you can call me nie! | 23 | she/her | lesbian | blk | matcha lover despite my user | 18+
M.LIST RULES REQS: C L O S E D DIVIDERS: @cafekitsune
who i write for: ✮ abby anderson ✮ sevika ✮ vi
this blog is pro palestine, none of us are free until all of us are free. the same sentiment stands for all nations under occupation. transphobes, homophobes, terfs, racists, zionists and facists are not welcome here. go rot elsewhere.
nsfw 18+ gross, nasty shit that just never seems to end, afab!reader, nipple play, coming untouched?, dry humping, oral (abby + r rec), fingering, scissoring, groping, strap sucking, strap referred to as dick, ejaculating strap (y'all got that bad dragon special 🤪), slight voyeurism? brief cum eating? mentions of ovulation, no real explicit physical description but i am fat with a HUGE rack so i tend to allude more to that in the reader. not proofread, some horny ghost possessed my body idk where this came from. at some point it grew from a bullet pointed drabble to a deconstructed one shot. apologies.
꩜ sometimes you wished that the idea of cycles syncing would be an old wives tale. today is not one of those days. even in the soft morning light, in her light touches and quiet morning ritual, there's an overwhelming sense of neediness emanating between the two of you. easy good morning kisses lead to her leaving indents of her teeth on your shoulder, dark marks down your back. the hand resting innocently on your soft stomach works its way through the buttons on your sleep shirt, cold fingers brushing against your already pert nipples.
꩜ from that point on it's all systems go, her large hands squeezing and pulling at the soft fat on your chest, thumb glazing against your sensitive nipples over and over. your thighs press together rhythmically, underwear embarrassingly wet with each touch. her free hand curls around the back of your neck, thumb resting on your jaw as she pulls you back into a messy kiss.
꩜ its debouched, sucking on her tongue, her teeth grazing your bottom lip. the soft morning chill grows the more spit soaked your chin becomes, not that either of you care. finally her hands wander down to the waistband of your trousers, then your underwear, wasting no time swiping through your arousal. when she groans into your mouth it's downright filthy, and the heavy grind of her hips against your ass only amplifies it.
꩜ the rough pads of her fingers circle your clit with a delicious mix of urgency and softness, trailing down to your sopping hole; easing one and eventually two fingers in to the knuckle. she swears blind that she could cum from the way your warm walls suck her in. it's uncoordinated and messy and perfect, the way she curls her fingers, somehow reaching the deepest parts of you. her thrusts play off of one another, each grind of her hips pushing her fingers against that spongy spot inside of you.
꩜ she's anything but silent, quiet fucks and groans and shit baby whispered against your lips. she cums with her face buried in your neck, hips stuttering against the swell of your ass, fingers still curled inside of you, working you over until you've soaked her hand. even then it's not enough. clothes are quickly strewn across the floor, your shirt hanging off of you shoulders, her sports bra pulled between her teeth, eyes locked on the way your pussies grind together, the wet squelching sending little bolts of electricity through your stomach. ‘that’s it angel, make our cunts kiss’
꩜ her hands are splayed on your thighs, then your waist, and your tits, like she can't decide where to touch you. she settles on your hips, blunt fingernails digging into your supple flesh, pulling you harder, faster against her. she's mesmerised, watching your hips grind messily against hers, heavy tits bouncing in her face. your palms rest on her small, muscular chest, fingers pinching at her nipples in a way you know will send her reeling. you’re just as broken, chasing your high with fervour, relishing in the way her whimpers mix with yours ‘need you to cum- ngh, cum all over my pussy please baby. need it’. that breaks her, and wow is it a sigh. she's so pretty when she orgasms, cheeks flushed, freckles somehow more pronounced, her usually neat braid a mess of stray hairs. when you fall forward, the pleasure too much to withstand, she's quick to sink her teeth into your breast, softly dragging them across your nipple once, then twice.
꩜ you manage to keep your hands off of one another long enough to shower and get dressed. abby grumbling something about clothes being pointless. you're not sure you entirely disagree. the two of you muster some restraint long enough to eat, be actual functioning human beings. even then she's not too far from you, hands sliding under your shirt to run across your stomach, sneaking up to grope your tits for a few stolen seconds before you're smacking her hand away. and of course she's packing, because it's her. she makes sure you feel it, grinding against you for the third time, smirking against your skin when your breath hitches. it's inevitable really, when she pulls you down onto the couch you'd just finished tidying.
꩜ she's got you half sitting, one knee pushed up to your chest, the other lazily resting over her shoulder as she spreads you open, the cool air and heat of her stare making you shudder. ‘so perfect angel. such a pretty pussy and it’s all mine, huh?’ her thumbs trace your sensitive pussy lips one dipping slightly into your twitching hole, the other brushing your swollen clit. 'abigail stop being a tease-' shes quick with it then, swiping her tongue through your wetness pursing her lips over your nub, thumb still rubbing against your leaking cunt, thrusting in lightly. 'hn- fuck, abby- fuck' you're a wreck, broken moans of her name, her fingers gripping at your thigh, using it to pull herself deeper into you until you're gasping and barely forming sentences, hands laced in her loose locks. the whole while her own hips are moving, grinding against the edge of the sofa, the friction from the base of the strap perfect on her twitching clit, driving her need to make you finish. when you cum she's a mess, slurping at every drop, determined to not spill any. you eventually give a light tug at her hair, pulling her away from you, earning small pecks along your inner thigh in return. looking down at her, the flush in her cheeks and the slight stutter of her hips that has you leaning in just that little bit closer ‘did you just-' 'shut up'
꩜ her having to actually do some work (it's remote for the plot), sitting at the desk in the spare room you'd converted into an office, trying her best to look focused whilst you kitten lick across her clit. the strap is loose around her hips, giving you the perfect amount of access to bury your face between her thighs. every now and then she'd stutter, cough to cover a moan, flatten her palm against your head. every time she loses focus you're pulling back, slowing down, not giving her any leeway. there’s an unmistakable flush to her skin aside from her the bright white of her hands, her grip on the armrest knuckle white. your fist is wrapped around spit covered strap, grinding it against her, lips alternating between her sweet cunt and the bulbous silicone head, knowing either way she’ll get off. the second the call finally ends she's feral, something between a moan and a growl leaving her lips as her hands pull you fully against her, one thigh looping over your shoulder, heel pushed into your back. 'fuckin menace. swear to god- fuck' she's practically riding your face, clit rubbing across your lips; your nose and you love it. her hips stutter the closer she gets, yet she remains relentless whimpering your name. 'cu-cuming. fuck- baby, take- fuck take it. fuckin so good to me.' when you grin up at her, face glistening with her cum, tongue swiping over your lips, all she can do is groan.
꩜ thinking about the two of you sitting through dinner, laughing and joking about the most ridiculous shit as though you haven't been fucking like rabbits all day. you trying your best not to watch her moth every time she chews, licks over that pouty bottom lip. abby forcing herself to have some decorum and sit through the meal she knows you'd spent time on, never wanting you to feel under appreciated. you showing her the same respect though dessert, savouring the taste of the cherry crumble and cream she'd made the day before. you're definitely not focused on the slight red tint on her lips or the way her throat bobs every time she swallows.
꩜ the restraint lasts all of 5 seconds once your plates are empty, her hand resting at the tip of your spine, keeping you perfectly flush with the counters she pulls your underwear to the side, sliding two thick fingers across your clit, pushing them . she has you drooling, grinding back against her desperate for some sort of release and then taking it away all together. you shine against the cool marble, in the brief absence of her touch, until her hand is gripping at your thigh, lifting it just enough to spread you open, the other hand slowly guiding the strap into your weepy cunt ‘biiiig stretch, there you go. my baby’s got it’ she eases you into it, but it doesn’t take long for her thrusts to become bruising. all she can hear is broken moans, ‘abby, abby, abby’ repeating over and over. her hand at your nape slowly travels to your nape, guiding you until your back is flush against her front. you let your head rest on her shoulder, soft breaths tickling her skin as that hand trails lower, squeezing at your softness, settling between your thighs rubbing tight circles on your clit. her hips meet your ass, smacking flesh and the constant plap plap plap of her fucking into you pulls you both closer to the edge. her muffled groans vibrate against the sensitive skin of your neck already littered in marks. ‘god she fucking loves it doesn’t she baby. swallowing this dick so well. keep making a mess, i’ll clean it up don’t worry, i’ve got you’
꩜ ending the night back in bed, folded into a mating press. her thrusts are slow and deep, hitting spots you didn't know she could. you're finally approaching that point of aching all over, somewhere between sated and overstimulated. her lips ghost against your neck, dipping for a moment to graze her teeth other your tit before resting her forehead against your cheek. 'feels so good baby, gonna cum in this sweet pussy.’ her fingers pinch at your overlay sensitive tits and all you can do is moan and whimper i her ear. ‘gonna knock you up. fuck- gonna look so pretty all round and swollen. and fuck- these tits. gonna be so good baby promise, gonna fill you up proper'
꩜ you cum with a loud cry, nails marking her up, panting heavy breaths against her lips, muttering quiet thank yous. her hips don’t stop moving, each thrust pushing you further and further towards oblivion. she’s babbling nonsense into your neck, grinding against the strap chasing her own release. you can’t help but squeeze her ass, nails digging into the supple flesh, guiding each push of her hips. the thick silicone stays buried inside of you its bulbous tip budging against your spot pushing you to the point of overstimulation. her orgasm hits like a tidal wave and my god does she sound broken, chasing it until she’s squirting, splashes of wet coating your cunt and thighs dripping onto the sheets. she squeezes the soft pump, filling you to the brim, getting lost in your soft whimpers and her heavy breaths. she pulls out carefully, dotting soft kisses against your inner thighs, letting out some sort of broken whimper at the sight in front of her. her eyes linger on the shining strap for a moment before she’s spreading you open, watching how it leaks in thick globs mingling with her own release.
꩜ you don’t have the energy to clean yourself up yet, and neither does she. the two of you fall beside each other curling into one another all sweaty and damp, sheets ruined skin covered in marks. her fingers draw slow circles on your thigh, lips leaving open mouthed kisses on your salty skin. her fingers dip between your folds and you accidentally bite a little hard against her neck 'abb-abby, m'too sensitive', a soft kiss on your forehead and then your cheek 'i know baby, just gotta make sure it sticks. don't wanna waste any.' her fingers circle your twitching hole, older hand drawing lazy squiggles up and down your spine. when you finally push at her hand, she relents, slipping her fingers between her lips, suckling them clean. your eyes follow every movement, half lidded just watching for a long moment before you're kissing her again. it's messy, your tongue swiping against hers tasting your sweet tangy musk and the nothingness of the faux cum. you just sigh against her lips, burying your face in the crook of her neck, the taste and scent of arousal clinging to the two of you, lingering, a quiet reminder that no matter how much you give each other, you'll never be able to get enough.
—
literally my face the entire time i was writing this
nsfw 18+, vibrators, edging, kinda harsh sev, voyerism?? forced eye contact?, afab!reader, r! referred to as 'baby', 'sweetness', i pictured like a somewhat modern take on councillor sevika for this one <3
꩜ thinking about sevika who has just about had enough of her job, her colleagues, being away from you. of course the work follows her home, binders filled with bills yet to be passed and unfinished proposals. but then she sees you, the way that her shirt stretches around the softness of your hips, the glass of whiskey with exactly 2 ice cubes ready and waiting for her, the way your body brushes against her when she leans down to kiss you. she doesn’t have to say much, just a quiet ‘missed you today baby’. she rolls her hips into yours once, and you know what the game is. know what kind of day she’s had, and you’re the only one who can make it feel better.
꩜ that’s how you end up splayed out on all fours, spread open to her. of course she has the best seat in the house, thick thighs spread wide, whisky glass in hand, shirt half undone. her tie, the one you’d gifted her on her first day, is no longer hanging from her collar, but wrapped around your thigh, holding the small wand vibrator against your sensitive clit. she doesn’t say much, just lounges back, watching the way your sopping cunt leaks onto the sheets, practically salivating each time your hips twitch. your whines are muffled by her drool soaked pillow, fingers gripping at the sheets as though they can help you right now.
꩜ you can practically feel the mischief in those grey eyes seeping into your skin each time your thighs start shaking and your pussy spasms on the verge of an orgasm. the amusement she feels from building you up so close to release only to shut the vibrations off all together for third or fourth time, you lost count a while ago.
꩜ she lets out a quiet tsk, her movements slow and measured. fingertips ghost your skin dancing through the slick on your thighs, spreading your cunt wide for no other reason than to watch you tremor. you’re beyond half way to brainless, bordering desperate for anything she’ll give you, dangerously close to just taking it.
꩜ her knuckles continue that bruising slow path, skimming over your spine, pausing for just a moment when an amused huff escapes her lips ‘c’mon baby you’ve been so good for me. don’t ruin it now’. her thumb strokes soft patterns into your skin, a stark contrast to way she moulds you to her liking, nudging that arch into your back.
꩜ when she finally drags those fingers up and over your shoulder, your chin is wet with drool, eyes half open. her wide, rough palm cups your chin with even more gentleness, her grip tilting you to look up at her. god she’s too much. all hard lines and rough edges. from your position, her already impressive height and build seems to take on a new sense of grandeur.
꩜ as much as she loves you like this, brain turned to a soft pile of mush, body on the edge of breaking, you know she’d never push you too far. your gentle giant. her eyes sparkle with each sweep of your shining chin and wet eyes, practically light up when her gaze sweeps back down your body, back arched, ass soft and round ready for her to seek her teeth into. ‘my baby’s a wreck. gonna keep being good? give me what i want?’
꩜ a lazy nod is all you can muster, but that’s not good enough for her. another tsk, though it carries no real bite. ‘can’t hear you sweetness.’ your fingers twist in the sheets, as though that will return any of your lost strength. ‘please vika- need it so bad. let me cum please-‘ her grip on your chin doesn’t soften, the angle forcing you to look into her eyes and nowhere else. she doesn’t speak for a long moment, and then the soft click of a button sends your eyes rolling. a light tap on your chin bring them back to hers, right where she wants them.
꩜ she foregoes any sort of build up, she’s already pushed and pulled you through god knows how long of that, just pushes the vibrator up higher and higher until all you can muster is high pitched squeaks. impossibly perspective, she picks up on it, the way the sounds shift into open mouthed silence and your hips buck. the way your arms shake as you struggle to hold yourself up.
꩜ she’s there with you, dipping low, eyes never leaving yours, hand still enveloping your jaw, bright eyes sweeping over your wrecked expression, the way your body tenses and then shakes. ‘shiiit- there we go-‘. she relishes in the sound of your overworked cunt soaking the bed, those whines she loves so much like music to her ears. her thumb strokes your soaked cheek, slowly lowering the vibrations to an eventual drop, working you all the way through it.
꩜ ‘my perfect baby. always so good to me’ her voice is equal parts soft and roughened by years of too much smoking as she coos against your lips, pressing soft kisses to them, and then your cheeks, salty from sweat and overwhelmed tears. the two of you stay like that for a long moment, her hands wandering, carefully pulling the knot out of the satin tie, resisting the urge to dip her fingers into your sopping hole.
꩜ she plants one slow and final kiss on your lips before she lays your head on the pillow, eyes never leaving yours, thumbs making light work of the tiny buttons on her shirt, her expensive leather belt. the coarse trail of hair peaking above her boy shorts makes you perk up a little, and when she slides them down her thighs, small strings of her own arousal shine against her bush.
꩜ it’s always at this point that you understand her a little more. get why she’d sit back and watch you fall apart over and over, because all you want is to bury your head between her thighs and suck on her engorged clit. pull her off an over the edge, curl your fingers until she’s coming on your tongue. a new sense of want, some strange revitalisation courses through you at the thought of tasting her. the hungry look on her face transforms into something almost cocky as she lifts your head once more, watching you push yourself onto all fours once more, just for her.
18+ just super soft mushy lovely all the feels!! whilst this is written with an afab / fem presenting reader in mind, I don’t think there’s any descriptors of the readers anatomy / any gender specific pronouns! that being said this isn’t proofread. It might be ass idk it’s 2am and I’m yearning. MINORS & MEN DNI
She's everywhere.
She’s the salt lamp she'd gifted you for no apparent reason, now sat on your desk, the peach light casting a glow just bright enough to make out the pretty edges of her face. In the sheets she'd sent you a link to one random Sunday evening, the hair tie around your wrist, hastily pulled from the end of her braid.
Her heart beats a strange rhythm beneath your ear, somewhere in between contentment and anticipation, soft breaths tickling your ear. The lingering scent of pine and sweat, a cinnamon cookie candle sweetening the hint of sex. Another thing she'd picked out for you, excitedly handing it over, basking in the glow of your grin over the smallest things.
You trace something unintelligible along her stomach. All hard ridges and soft edges. Everything about her is soft, unbelievably so. The way her breath dips when you graze the hard earned muscles of her stomach, with no agenda other than to feel her. The slight tilt of her hips when you brush the hair at her navel, a quiet gasp when your nails flutter across her hips, hard muscles turning soft and supple.
You indulge in it, being like this with her. No matter how tired, how many times your kisses turn heated or wind down into soft snores, you love the way your legs become a mess of tangled sheets and limbs, no clear start or end to either one of you.
You press a feather light kiss to her collar bone, fingers still dancing, mapping out each dip and curve.
She doesn't say anything, doesn't need to, just presses a languid kiss to your lips, equal parts begging and thanks, dulcet whines breathed into your lungs when you shift, never wanting to untangle to knot of you and her and her and you. You move to where she needs you, slotting a thigh between hers, welcoming her warmth.
You can't help but smile because it's you and only you who gets this from her. You get to see that pinch in her brow, no longer a fault of tension but rather a result of quiet concentration of taking what she wants, what she needs.
You get to touch her, hear her, feel her.
"So strong- all for me- god I could watch you for the rest of my life." A whimper is all you get in return, but it's more than you could ask for. Her hand slides from your lower back, callouses tingling against your skin as she cups your supple flesh, gently kneading you against her.
Light kisses and silent promises to yourself, that one day you'll press your lips to every freckle that dances across her skin, but for now, this will do. The way she arches when your lips close around her soft pink nipples, stiff peaks begging for attention.
She's always been quiet when she gets like this. Never one to scream, or plea. But she has her moments, where her whines crack a little in her throat and her groans become subtle hitches, no longer confined to the reverberations of her chest.
"I've got you, c'mon Abs. S'all you." You trail a slow line of kisses back up to her lips, desperate to see her, watch her.
"Take what you need baby, all yours." God she's beautiful.
This exchange is entirely selfish, whether she knows it all not. The sheets below taunt you, the promise of just enough friction to get you off, but you don't need it. Not when she's this pliable beneath you.
"You wanna get off like this? Grind your cunt on my thigh until you cum" Your lips brush the corner of her mouth, "Or do you want my mouth, want me to eat your pretty pussy? Suck on your clit til you can't speak."
She whimpers against your lips, pouting a half formed kiss, brain too rattled to commit to anything but her orgasm. But then her eyes were rolling and she's muttering hurriedly.
"Please give me your mouth, need it so bad- fuck baby please-"
You sink a little lower, arching against her, lips seeking out every inch of her you can take, blowing soft bouts of cold air against her slick skin. You kiss along her stomach, tongue swirling in the divots of her abs, sharing in her disappointment as you move your thigh from between hers, your skin covered in her slick.
Your hand threads into hers, a mutual anchor as you sink between her thighs. Your touch on her wrist isn't commanding so much as it it guiding, fingers slipping across the veins and scars, pulling her palm to settle in your hair.
Taking. That's her biggest burden. She has so much to give, and so much want to give it. Not just in moments like this where her eyes sparkle with warmth, trying so hard to stay open as your tongue swipes through her slick. She'd give you the breath from her lungs if it meant you got to live a second longer, pay for a strangers meal if they're short on change.
So when, slowly but surely, her hand curls through your roots, and her warm palm ghosts your scalp, you smile against her. When she finally closes her fist in a tender grip, you can't hold back the muffled groan of your own.
You give her just enough to make her feel it, slow but heavy traces of her clit, but you never give her too much. You want her to take it. To decide that she wants it and she's going to get it. You need her to realise that she can have anything she wants from you.
"Fuuuck- baby, shit! Please don't stop" It's a whisper, carried by the winter wind. So easy to miss, so quick to pass by, yet it's all you hear. All you'll think about for days. The deep, sweet musk, the slight clench of her thighs around your head, the way she finally pulls you harder against her. It's burned in your brain and you want it there forever.
She's got the hang of it now. Pushing you closer when you refuse her pressure, guiding you in her vice grip when you skirt the edges of her soft pink nub. She's taking, and you're an endless well, all for her.
Quiet hitches turn to equally as quiet whines, but you know her, know what it means. The heavy rush of breath, the roiling stomach. Her thighs, a perfect contraction of all muscle and suppleness lightly trembling against your ears. You purse your lips, suckling, rolling your tongue, pulling sounds deep from within her.
You're surrounded by her and you love it, held taut against her gushing cunt, every side flooded by her. Her warm skin, the taste of her cum as you lap at her unable to stop, the sound of her ragged breaths and delicate whimpers.
Delicate. Maybe that's a better word to describe her. Broken in half so easily, and put back together twice as quickly by you. She's delicate in the way she unthreads her fingers from your hair, the way she releases you from her bucking thighs. She's delicate in the way she looks at you, eyes rimmed as red as her flushed cheeks, tears like leaking amber in that soft golden glow.
You piece her back together delicately, a kiss on each hip, her stomach, her chest. A peck on her jaw and a thumb brushing against her cheek. Her nose brushes yours and all she can do for a few quiet moments is breathe against your lips, inhaling the lingering scent of herself and breathing it back into you.
You curl yourself around her, not smothering, not seeking; giving. A grounding weight, hanging off of her just enough so that if wanted to create a gap, she could. But she doesn't. You become a mess of tangled limbs again, warm, sweaty, satiated. A half formed rat king of flesh, and cotton, and slick.
"Are you okay?" Your thumb doesn't leave her face, but you try not to give her too much to think about. You keep your touches light. Soft and delicate. She breathes for a few quiet moments, finally opening her her eyes, casting them across the ceiling and finally down at you.
"Turned my brain to mush." That smile. That's all you needed from her. You smile back, though it dissolves into a quiet chuckle.
"Compliment and a half that."
She laughs breathlessly with you for a moment, soaking in the warmth of you against her, the tingling in her thighs and butterflies in her stomach.
"Didn't mean to make you cry like that- is it gross to say you looked pretty?"
She grins at that. There's a smug edge to it, one that says she knows. Knows that she did in fact look breathtaking whilst telling you no, it's the furthest thing from gross. Her smile settled into something gentle, pensive, her brow furrows in that all too familiar way for a moment then unfurling, as though whatever though she'd mulled over had dissipated in a singular breath.
"I've never- not like that. Not like I do with you." She kisses you properly this time, now that she can put her mind to it. Hums at the taste of herself on your tongue, pours all of her thanks into soft nips against your lower lip, tasting, taking.
✰ if your ‘views’ have a direct and negative effect on anyone, especially marginalised communities, leave. if you’re just here to spread hateful rhetoric, fuck off.
✰ i love my trans siblings. you are safe here. queer, neurodivergent people are my people. transmasc / nb / gnc lesbians, i love you!! c’mere!!!
✰ men if you’re here leave now. my writing is for lesbians!! on that note, i mostly write afab reader just because it is my lived experience, however i’m open to learning the nuisances of writing for gnc/nb/transmasc lesbians!
✰ if you are under the age of 18, for the love of god, go. away. i do not write for you. explicit, adult themes are a common thread in everything i write, minors are not welcome here. you will be blocked. the same goes for ageless blogs. if i can’t identify you as a legal adult in some way, shape or form from your blog, you’re not coming in.
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✰ i don’t like committing to requests simply because the pressure makes me not want to finish them, however, i am a chronic yapper and will absolutely talk any ideas (within my guidelines) that y’all have. maybe it’ll turn into an actual piece of writing. maybe it won’t.
✰ i will disappear. maybe for months at a time. i write when i write, its all very sporadic.
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✰ i do not write: r✰pe, age play, cnc, incest / step-cest, anything even remotely paedophilic, scat / pee,, pet play or anything within that realm / sexu✰l vi✰lence