#lesbians yall lesbians

[mikeymadisonsvibrator]

Marks

Tara Carpenter x Amber Freeman

Word count: 1277

Summary: What Amber and Tara were actually up to when "grabbing Tara's inhaler from Amber's room".

Warning: lesbian situationship!

Mild smut under the cut 🕺✂️

(repost cause something odd happened to the original post 🧟‍♀️)

As the last party-goers stumbled out of her house, Amber guided Tara upstairs, tugging at her hand, leaving their friends downstairs. Tara struggled, barely keeping up, with both her crutches clutched under one arm. "Don't worry, I'm pretty sure it's on top of my desk," Amber said, trying to remember the exact location of the inhaler Tara came here for.

Tara looked back at Sam, who was frowning at the sight of them. She tapped her watch while sternly looking Tara in the eye, signaling her to hurry. She had a bad feeling in her gut, like shit was about to go down, so she wanted to get out of here and back on the road as soon as possible.

Sam sighed, knowing they were gonna take their time anyway. She wasn't blind. She saw they had something going on. The lingering touches, the charged stares, and... Her mind traveled back to a few days prior, when she had visited Tara in the hospital. Maybe she had been better off blind.

---

As the elevator door to Tara's private floor opened, she heard whiny grunts coming from her sister's hospital room. Sam's heart dropped. She rushed to open the door, mind obviously jumping to the worst-case scenario. With wide, adrenaline-filled eyes, her gaze fell on Tara. Her eyes went impossibly wider as she saw Amber, pulling her hand from under Tara's hospital gown, fingers sticky. Tara was red as can be, surely a mix of embarrassment and the previous actions she was enduring. Amber, of course, just had that signature smirk on her face, shamelessly, no, challengingly staring at Sam. The older sister had mumbled something about them being unbelievable as she closed the door again, waiting in the hallway for Amber to leave. Tara had sworn they weren't dating, but that fact only made Sam more disturbed.

---

As the duo reached the top of the stairs, Tara simply shot Sam a soft smile and a thumbs up, though, she didn't look worry-free, either. See, deep down, Tara knows Amber's secret. But everytime she tries to gather her thoughts and actually try to confirm it, she feels ridiculous. Honestly, her head cannot wrap around any of her friends having the ability to murder people in cold blood.

Though, on those addictive nights, when the both of them are alone, with Amber knuckle deep inside Tara, she sees it. Even through hooded, pleasure-blurred eyes, she still sees it. The teeth-shattering clenching of her jaw. The horrifyingly psychotic grin on her lips. The narrowing of her cold eyes, as she studies every muscle in Tara's face, taking in the sight of her edging on the border of pleasure and pain. Amber is psychotic. Yet Tara can't help coming back for more. Amber's got her wrapped around her finger. Around multiple, on a lucky night.

Tara snaps out of her thoughts at the sound of the bedroom door closing. Amber's hand slips out of hers. "So," she starts, walking towards her desk, fetching the inhaler. She holds the device between her pointer finger and thumb, toying with it, wiggling it from side to side. "Were you really in need of this?" She steps closer to Tara, who is still standing in front of the closed door. "Or did you just need an excuse to... see me once more?" She smirked as she stood right in front of the smaller girl, looking down at her.

Tara felt the squeeze of her lungs, begging to be pried open again. She also felt the increasing dampness of her underwear, clinging to her skin. "Both," she muttered out, looking up at Amber's piercing eyes with her own, desperate, doe-like ones.

Amber hummed at the pretty sight, leaning in closer, hovering over Tara's lips after she licked her own. "Open up, baby," she spoke suggestively. Fully aware of Amber's habit of spitting in her mouth, Tara complied almost immediately, sticking out her tongue slightly. It was one of those more lewd things Amber introduced her to, and she eventually grew to love, now even more than Amber did, arguably so.

Amber scoffed and shook her head softly, smirking down at the younger girl. She looked down at her hand holding the inhaler as she brought it up to Tara's lips. She sighed, teasingly. "Always such an eager slut."

Tara blushed furiously at her slip-up and rolled her eyes at Amber's misleading games, but finding the humor in it nonetheless. She quickly wrapped her lips around her inhaler, looking back in Amber's eyes. The medication filled her lungs, and she let out a satisfied sigh. She felt the heat slowly move away from her cheeks. It traveled down to her core instead when Amber muttered out a soft, yet possessive praise, tucking the inhaler in the latina's back pocket, not missing the chance of giving her ass a good squeeze.

Tara couldn't stop the little whine that escaped her lips. Her body was extra sensitive, still on-edge from the brutal attack she endured a few days ago. She wasn't sure if it was pleasure or pain she felt. Then again, with Amber, she never really knew.

Amber's hand traced the line of Tara’s jaw, fingers cold and firm, forcing Tara out of her own head again. The smaller girl's big, brown eyes looked up at Amber, who's smirk deepened, as she leaned in, her breath ghosting over Tara's mouth before she closed the distance. Their kiss was slow, almost teasing. Amber’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to the sharp edge of her demeanor, but her kiss held that same power, her dominance. It made Tara's knees buckle, her crutches dropping to the floor as she vulnerably steadied herself in Amber's arms, reaching up to hold her face.

Amber bent through her knees slightly, gripping at Tara's thighs, picking her up. Tara whimpered, feeling her body's injuries burn and ache as Amber's grip pulled at her skin. The pain slightly ebbed away when Amber's back met with her mattress and Tara now straddled one of her thighs. She immediately ground down, rutting her hips eagerly, sitting upright. She had one hand grabbing Amber's shirt, and the other against her mouth, biting at her nail. Finally, she had an opportunity to release some of the ever-growing tension for Amber between her thighs.

Amber loved the sight of the girl on top of her. She looked desperate and sensitive and vulnerable with her eyes rolling back into her skull. Her little, whiny, pained huffs were the cherry on top. Amber could feel the yearning between Tara's legs radiate through the multiple layers of clothing between them. It only riled her up more, angling her thigh perfectly for Tara to grind against. Her ears feasted on the pitchy, broken moans rolling off her lips. They reminded her of the ones Tara released a few nights prior, after Amber had slid the knife into her stomach for the first time, and she desperately tried to crawl away on her kitchen floor.

At that memory, Amber lifted up Tara's shirt, biting her lip at the sight of the stitches on her stomach, and the soft abs rippling underneath them as the latina continuously rutted her hips against Amber's thigh. She traced the forming scar tissue with her fingertip, admiring her work.

Tara frowned at the feeling, snapping out of her blissful state. Suddenly, the gut-wrenching reality of the situation dawned on her again. Killer on the loose. Friends dying. Organs ripping. Blood pooling. Stitches pulling. Grinding on her number one suspect's thigh.

She halted her movements, her eyes opening, immediately darting to that familiar, psychotic smirk aimed at her.

"You've always looked pretty, covered in my marks."

[cloudboundcritters]

"we need more weird queers!!"

you start parroting TERF talking points the milisecond someone says they are a lesboy or gaygirl

you cry when mspec lesbians/gays exist

you refuse to use neopronouns or it/its, even when those are a persons only set of pronouns

you expect a-specs to experience attraction in some way (yes, that includes platonic attraction)

you exclude intersex people

you can't even accept furries.

[angelsaxis]

I haven't seen this version anywhere so I made one!

[vampirafemme]

Sub who covers her face when she’s close and cumming only to have her domme pin her hands. Talking to her and pounding into her.

“Come on sweetheart, I wanna see my good girl’s face when she falls apart”

This post is about sapphic sex men/minors dni

[womanman]

“We need more weird queer people” Y’all can’t handle 90% of the ways multigenders label their sexualities

[femmefruit]

having your dom sit you in their lap with a vibrator pressed between your pussy and their thigh.

a simple enough variation to your usual routine of thigh riding, you let out a pretty sigh and rock your hips forward once before you feel their hands grip your hips to stop you.

“be still for me, baby. no grinding, can you handle that?” you know the sweetness behind the question is all for show, that it’s designed to make you feel small and disgustingly needy. it works. you’re nodding stupidly, already letting the vibrations between your legs overtake your thoughts. they appraise your expression, the way it starts to shift from attentive to blissed out, and turn the vibrator up one setting for good measure. “good, baby. i knew you could do it.”

it’s harder than you thought it would be, holding still through the pleasure. your brain, warm and gooey, keeps trying to urge you into your usual routine of humping away at whatever your partner puts between your legs. every time your hips twitch or shake, their grip tightens around you. you wonder if it’ll bruise. you hope it will. you know you’re getting close, drooling as you kiss and bite at any inch of their skin you can reach without moving your hips. a particularly insistent throb of your pussy threatens to drag you down into an orgasm, and you remember your manners at the last second.

“can i cum?” shakier than you would’ve liked, followed by a long moan. a beat of silence hangs in the air as you realize the answer, but it doesn’t stop you from pleading again, “can i? please?”

“no, baby. wait.” your ensuing cries are hushed, one hand coming up to stroke your hair gently as though you’re not being tormented. you wind up to object again but you’re silenced by a tug on your hair that forces you to look them in the eye. “quit, baby. you know you like how it makes you feel, so wait.”

your cheeks flush hot at the accusation, knowing how much truth it held. your eyes start watering as you try to look for a way out, knowing just by their tone that this will not be a time where you could get away with cumming on accident. you drop your head to their shoulder and try to lift your hips, only to be forced back down onto the toy. your brain vaguely registers the instruction to “sit your ass down and be still,” but it’s nearly drowned out by the wail you let out as you connect with the vibrator again. you start shaking your head, pushing back against their chest in an effort to separate yourself from the overwhelming pleasure while your hips stay locked in place by strong hands. how long have you been holding this orgasm? a few minutes? seconds? it feels like it’ll never end, like you’re letting them dangle you over a cliff for their own pleasure, watching you fight and cry while you try your best to follow the instructions given.

they pull back again to admire the distress on your face, letting out a pleased hum at the state you’re in. you’re whimpering constantly, head resting pitifully on their shoulder. they know they could stay there forever, keeping you desperate and pliant as you pant into their neck. they give an experimental bounce of their leg that sends you into another fit of moaning and begging.

“please, please! i need to cum, daddy. i wanna be good but i’m going to cum, can’t hold it anymore. need you to say yes,”

the grin that spreads across their face could only be described as lecherous, listening to the way they’ve absolutely ruined you. they have to get in close to your ear to ensure you hear, holding you still through the fight you’re still putting up as they press a kiss against your temple. “go ahead baby, give it to me,” they groan out, hearing your moans start to pitch up before they even get the sentence out. as if you needed any help to ride it out, they press you down harder against the vibrator, coaxing out sob after sob as your orgasm tears through your body.

“shh, baby, i know. it’s good isn’t it? why don’t you do it again for me since you were so well behaved?”

[insertdisc5]

Play @ofthedevil Episode 0 Before Episode 1 Drops On February 6th. I Am No Longer Asking

[eldritchichor]

also hate that people are dismissing 911 entirely and bemoaning the queer representation on the show cause of the BT breakup like Hen and Karen aren’t MAIN characters on the show. bye let the door slam on your way out

[thuesdaynightdykelife]

Here's to the femmes whose expression lies in grandmas florals and a vintage cut. Smelling like thrift stores and books and dried flowers.

Here's to the femmes whose expression lies in the macarbe. Art filled red with blood, and wardrobe filled black and silver. Jars of bones and hair and herbs.

Here's to the femmes whose expression lies in nature's song. The howl of the wind. The bold heat of the sun on their skin, and the smell of eucalyptus and petrichor.

Here's to the femmes whose expression lies in the sweat on their brow and the strength of their lift. The rush of adrenaline and endorphins. The beauty in their form and focus.

Here's to the femmes whose expression lies in the tap of their heels on tiles. The way their voice commands a room. Warm printer ink, signature signed.

Here's to the femmes whose expression lies in the paint on your apron and the beadwork your mother taught you. The songs you made up with your cousins over your childhood summers will be the lullabies your children fall asleep to.

Here's to the femmes whose expression lies in the layer of fat on top of your soup, the bubbling of yeast and the smell of onion, garlic, and rosemary.

Here's who the femmes who's expression lies in the strum of the bass and the bang of the drum. Grimey venues with sticky floors, full of screaming, sweat, and fiery passion.

Here's to the femmes whose expression lies in decedant fabrics galore. Velvets and satins and ruffles and lace. Rhinestones and ribbons. Leather and linens.

Here's to femmes whose expression lies in enjoying the simplicities of life. The smell of the jasmine tree on the walk home from book club. The changing of the leaves. The way their barista knows them by name.

Here's to the femmes whose expression lies in comfort and care. The softness they've carved for themselves. Matching pajamas and mismatched socks. Home is where the heart is, and where goldilocks finds her "just right."

[holyblanchett]

I used to pray for times like this

[pixieplushe]

over the course of watching arcane, vi absolutely stole my heart in more ways than one. her character is one of the most complex, misunderstood, and realistic out of the entire show

vi was shoved into prison at 15 years old, getting out 7 years later with nothing. every character in the show had somebody and moved on. ekko had the firelights, caitlyn had her family, jayce and viktor had each other, jinx had silco, sevika, then even isha. vi had no one. being locked away in such an environment, knowing full well you're the reason why your sister got taken by an evil man, does a number on you. vi had no chance to develop a sense of self, it is very prevalent in both seasons.

vi has little direction unless it's for someone else (which in turn is why i believe cait had a negative impact on her in s2 act 1, influencing her into being an enforcer + vi rationalizing it as a lesser of two evils, using the grey on chembarons vs allowing enforcers to storm the undercity). almost, if not every action she made was to help others, because she is so beyond selfless. it's her fatal flaw. like vander said to her, "you have a good heart". vi clings to people like glue because she cannot bear being alone again, letting the ones she loves slip through her fingers like sand.

she's just as traumatized as jinx, but her trauma is displayed in more subtle, self-destructive behavior as we see in episode 5 when she truly believed she lost everything again. which in turn is why I point to her being realistic, in real life it isn't obvious to spot when someone has trauma, it isn't supposed to be obvious. vi is the perfect example of that she finally got to choose for herself in the end, not be everyone else's plot device to make their lives better. i feel like she was written beautifully, everyone wants to dog on her for choosing to be in love? the past 2 seasons she chased jinx through every crack in the earth. she tried her damn hardest! jinx chose to cut the rope and let her be happy, let her go. much to vi’s dismay, we all know that was the last thing vi ever wanted. i love her so dearly, my favorite girl :(

(also, caitvi being canon makes me as a lesbian feel represented, i love them a lot. no more burying your gays trope! yay!)

[sleeepying]

Its lesbian sex friday 💥💥💥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[imsofreakingtired]

need sevika x femme!reader hcs😭💔

yes ma'am🫡

sevika x femme!reader

genuinely gay panics over you every hour of the day. she wants to tell you how pretty you are and how weak you make her but is too embarrassed to, so she’ll just stare at you lovingly when she thinks you aren’t looking

likes it when you hang onto her arm when you walk down the street together. also likes opening doors for you, pulling out chairs for you, because you teasingly say “thank you my gentleman” every time and it makes her blush

it takes her all of 5.03 minutes to get ready to go out, while you’re still choosing an outfit fifteen minutes later. she’ll mope around and grumble about how you don’t need all that prep because you look fine but secretly enjoys watching you put on makeup and do your hair. it’s like an art form to her. tries to kiss off your lip gloss the minute you put it on because she says you look so yummy

on that note. she loves the smell of your products and will find every conceivable excuse to bury her nose in your hair, kiss your lips, your neck, just to be close to your scent

never buys any maintenance products for herself (3 in 1 soap n she calls it a day) but she’ll hear you briefly mentioning something you want—a new lip gloss, a skirt, a skincare product—and she'll just place it in front of you the next day without a word 

any hetero who sees the two of you would assume she’s the stone butch top and you’re the femme bottom and only sevika knows how friggin scary you can be when she makes you mad, like when she comes home late without telling you and scares the shit out of you, or when she gets into a fight and puts herself in danger

(she doesn’t fear anything except the sound of you clicking your tongue)

will follow you around on shopping days and carry the bags. enjoys intimidating the other boyfriends and husbands waiting for their partners to finish shopping

you hold the reins in the relationship and she knows it. she loves it when you boss her around and call her your puppy 

carries you on her back on date nights when your heels start hurting your feet too much. she always teases you about them- “why the hell would anyone want to walk on plastic toothpicks?” but secretly thinks they’re sexy 

always in dangerous protective lesbian boyfriend mode when you go out and you’re wearing something low cut. keeps a hand on your thigh or around your waist at all times and shoots venomous looks at any man who so much as glances at you. 

loves it when you’re dressed up, but also loves it when you’re just chilling in the house in sweats, hair down without any makeup. she loves the way you look in the mornings with messy hair and sleepy eyes. once when she thought you were sleeping you hear her whispering “my princess” as she stroked your hair

now it’s an ongoing joke between you. she’s your knight and you’re her princess

whenever you consult her on how you should do your nails next she’ll close her eyes and pick randomly like it’s a multiple choice test. this annoys you to no end. when you tell her to pick seriously she just smirks and says “honestly? my favorite kinds of nails are short nails.” 

likes to plop down on the couch and pull you onto her lap after a long day of work and turn on the tv, nuzzling her face in your hair. she’ll fall asleep cuddling you in front of the tv five (5) minutes later but she’ll jolt awake as soon as you start to disentangle yourself from her  ~~~ thank you @arcaneisundermyskin for the req :)

[slitherysrpent]

the urge I have to come up behind her and slide my hands under her top and gently feel her up is becoming unbearable

[eatingsomegreeneggos]

My uh- My hand slipped 🌟

[snailification]

Is it too much to ask for someone to make a Caitlyn assassin AU?!