#lesbian fic

[roseloveswomen]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63364393

[milkglassghost]

Getting Under You, Getting Over You.

Chapter Two, Snowe’s Bend, South Carolina —2012

Avery

The first thing I noticed about South Carolina was the way the humid air felt like it was trying to hold me. Wrapping itself around my arms and legs, thick and damp, like something alive. Even moonlight looks different here, soft, slow, and syrupy when it pours through the trees and sticks to everything it touches. 

At night, the marsh feels like the edge of the world thinning out. Water threads through the lowcountry in a thousand different directions, carving paths through spartina before fading into dark corners of forest. 

The Mordecai’s pasture gives way gradually, firm ground softening beneath my sneakers. The sounds of the farm fading behind me, replaced by a nighttime chorus rising from the shadows. Critters chirping, croaking, rattling and singing from every direction all at once. 

“They’re more comfortable being themselves in the dark,”

Big Bubbe’s words follow after me, so I pick up my pace. I don’t need her strange ramblings bouncing around my skull tonight. I’m plenty lightheaded from the blood dripping down my chin.

Besides, I don’t know what she thinks she’s hinting at.

I have nothing to hide. The first time I crossed into the marsh, I wasn’t running away from nothing. 

Uncle EJ’s second, Ananiah had just spent all afternoon pretending he didn’t care about the action figure he’d dropped overboard the skiff earlier that day. I watched him poke at his mashed potatoes through dinner while everyone talked around him.

After the house went quiet, I slipped outside with a flashlight and a big can of bear spray, praying the shit worked on gators as well as it does on grizzlies. 

The toy was right where the four year old explained he dropped it, buried up to its little plastic neck in black mud. I rinsed it off in the creek, tucked it into my pocket, and started to head straight back.

When something moved.

My flashlight slipped from my fingers and hit the ground with a dull thunk. The beam spun wildly across the forest floor, bouncing off the hanging branches of a weeping willow before spearing deep into the darkness.

But my eyes never followed the path of the beam, no, they’d found a new light.

She looked like she’d fallen from one of those stained-glass windows above the church altar and gotten herself wonderfully, impossibly lost. Her eyes caught mine, and they were impossibly bright, like somebody had trapped two burning stars behind them. 

I opened my mouth—though to say what, I couldn’t tell ya.

She made the decision for both of us anyhow. Turned and ran like hell. 

“Hey, wait!”

The words tore out of me, and I lurched after her without a second thought. She slipped between cypress trunks and low fans of palmetto with supernatural ease. I, a human,  struggled to navigate the treacherous path. 

Mud grabbed at my sneakers. The witch’s knees reached up like crooked fingers to trip me. Greenbrier clawed at my shins while willow switches slapped across my face. Every time I caught another flash of white I pushed harder, convinced I was only a few strides behind. 

I burst through a wall of black needlerush into a little clearing, breathing hard and heavy.

Empty, without a trace that she’d ever been there. 

I remember standing with the action figure still stuffed in my pocket, trying to determine what I’d just seen.

An angel? 

A ghost? 

Some lonely swamp spirit that looked enough like a girl to lure curious idiots deeper into the darkness?

I briefly consider the possibility that I’ve been breathing in too much of the marsh at low tide. All that pluff mud stink, the rotten-egg sulfur breath rising off the black water, and whatever methane bubbles are breaking loose from the muck below. Maybe it’d finally gone and softened some important part of my brain.

But crazy off swamp gas or not, I’d seen her.

I knew I had.

The image of those impossible eyes lingered long after she’d vanished, bright enough to outshine the flashlight still lying face-down in the mud. 

I picked it up, brushed off the muck, and started the long walk back toward the house with the rescued toy in my pocket and a new secret lodged behind my ribs.

Before I’d even reached the pasture fence, I knew I’d be back tomorrow night. And the night after that. As many nights as it took to find her again.

And find her, I did.

I found her dancing through patches of blooming golden canna, arms thrown wide in total abandon. Found her kneeling beside a creek, inky mane piled over one shoulder as she watched minnows scatter from the shadow of her hand. 

Each time I found her, it was only for a moment, a single breath of a second, before she vanished with the first blink of my eyes. I came to know her by piecing together each stolen glimpse with the next, hoping that eventually I’d have enough to make a whole girl out of.

More often than not, though, I spent my nights studying the places she’d been. I watched the water settle after she’d passed through it. Ferns slowly unfurl where she’d brushed against them. Dragonflies returning to the cattails she’d startled into flight. I convinced myself the marsh was still saying something about her after she’d gone, if only I could learn its wild language.

So I learned.

I learned which patches of pickleweed hid little armies of fiddler crabs. Where barred owls liked to perch after sunset. Which turtles would let me count the rings on their shells before slipping beneath the water without so much as a splash.

The marsh gave itself over to me, and inexplicably she became more elusive. Every time I found her, she left me with a little less than before; a short laugh swallowed by the wind, the graceful line of her neck turning away before the reeds folded shut behind her.

By the tail end of the month, it’d been well over a week since I’d caught a peek of my swamp siren. I’d started convincing myself heaven had finally moved on from the marsh.

And that maybe that was for the best.

Finding that action figure had done wonders for my reputation with the Mordecai clan and their people around Snowe’s Bend. Church ladies stage-whispered about how I’d braved the marsh at night for a crying step-cousin. I’d been wrapped in warm hugs, smothered in kisses, and told by people with shiny, watery eyes never to do something so stupid ever again.

So every trip into the marsh after that had been different. Because every trip after that had been just for me.

Dad would have a heart attack if he knew I’d been wandering through alligator country after dark. Abigail would call it dangerous, that worried little wrinkle between her eyebrows digging in deeper. 

Now Brooks would be delighted, seeing as he already thinks I’m some feral hillbilly who should sleep outside in a dog pen.

Whatever this thing was, it had gotten under my skin. It had me lying by omission, slipping out after dark, sitting through dinner wondering if she’d be waiting for me once the sun went down.

That wasn’t who I came here to be. It couldn’t be.

I’d been stupid to even think of her as an angel.

Angels don’t tempt you to sneak out windows when everybody who cares for you is asleep inside. Angels don’t have you spend all day promising yourself you’re done, only to have you standing at the pasture fence the second the shadows get long.

A will-o’-wisp.

Venus dressed up as the North Star.

She’d almost had me.

Lucky for me, a senile witch gave me fair warning about pretty things shining in the dark.

So tonight, I was done. Officially. No more marsh.

I’d play basketball until dinner. Keep my hands busy. Keep my feet planted on concrete. Go inside when Uncle EJ called, wash up, sit at the table, and be normal.

No marsh. No ghosts or angels or wisps or whatever. No waiting for sundown like it had anything to do with me.

Then she crossed my pasture.

Not half-hidden in the saw-edged green of giant cordgrass and marsh elder, or veiled behind wild rice and the ghost-white mouths of spider lilies. She was out in the open, cutting across the field in the last wash of twilight like she belonged to both worlds.

On my side of the fence. On my home court.

And suddenly it wasn’t about wanting to follow her anymore. It was about snuffing out that light, for my own salvation.

Blood slicks my upper lip, hot and coppery, but I swipe it away with the back of my wrist and keep moving. Behind me, I know the house glows warm through the windows. Dinner-time light. Family light. Good light. 

The wisp dips quickly into the wetland, but she can’t shake me so easily anymore. I follow the ripple in the grass stalks, a soft parting where her body has passed.

No crashing through the trees blindly this time. No yelling like a fool. I know better now.

I slip between the foliage sideways where the path narrows. Step over the unruly roots waiting to hook my ankle. Duck beneath the fallen branches. The swamp is dark around me, but not so strange anymore. It opens in pieces I recognize.

A frog croaks close enough to make me flinch.

“Not now!” I whisper-yell, pressing two fingers under my nose to check if I’m still bleeding. I am. Fantastic.

The trail bends toward the creek and I see her through the trees; only the edge of her tan shoulder, the swing of black locks down her back, the pale hem of her nightgown catching gently on an outstretched branch. 

My heart kicks hard.

There you are.

I slow down.

Big Bubbe’s voice drags through my head.

The only way to deal with a will-o’-wisp is to give it a real good shock.

I don’t want to hurt her, I just need this to be over.

She stops at the water’s edge. So, I stop too.

The creek widens there, the last blue light of evening gathered on the surface, broken only by the slow drift of her hand skating across the top. 

I creep closer, one careful step at a time. My sneakers sink soundlessly into the mud. My breath turns small in my chest. Every part of me narrows down to the space between us.

Five feet. Four. Three.

I lift both hands but I don’t know what I plan to do with them. Clap? Shout? Grab her shoulders and yell boo? Fuckin’ hell. 

Big Bubbe’s horrible cackle flashes through my mind, “Well that’s what worked for me!” 

Oh.

Oh, absolutely not.

The wisp turns.

Not startled. Not caught. Not even a little bit surprised.

She turns so fast I nearly swallow my own tongue, and suddenly we’re face-to-face.

Up close, she is less light than girl.

And what a girl this light is.

Honey-brown eyes too big for her heart-shaped face. Long lashes shiny and damp in the humid air. Her skin is browned and shining gold in the dusk, her cheeks soft, her hair fanning wild around her shoulders. 

She looks me over with a slow draw and frowns, her doll-face contorting around the small offense of finding me standing here. Her brows pinch together, her full mouth pulling into a pout like I’m the strange thing in the marsh. Like she hasn’t been haunting every corner of my life for over a month.

“Huh,” she says.

I freeze. Wisps can talk?

Her frown deepens as her eyes flick from my bloody nose to my muddy sneakers, then back to my face.

“My dreams are getting wayyyy too vivid,” she says slowly. “It’s actually kind of creepy.”

I blink at her. 

She tilts her head. “At least you’re pretty.” 

All the air leaves my body. 

For a terrible second, I forget she’s a demon trying to ruin my life and become aware of my own face in a deeply upsetting way. My swollen, bloody, crooked face.

Then, because God made me brave and stupid in equal measure, I have to respond. 

“Well,” I say, voice cracking only a little,“y-you’re not too hard to look at yourself—ma’am.”

Her mouth twitches. My whole chest goes tight around the mico-movement, and for one dangerous second, I forget all about wisps and warnings and pretty lights meant to ruin you.

Then I feel Big Bubbe’s fingers tugging my braid. Her hand cupped around my ear, shielding the answer from every cow gathered at the fence. Wisps are used to being chased, she’d whispered. They don’t know what to do when something comes right at ’em. 

Something like a kiss.

She laughed hard as hell when I stumbled back, cackling, “Well that’s what worked for me!” like she hadn’t just told me to do something unspeakable to a holy creature!

My face burns at the memory. Fuck no. There has to be another way. Except I’m standing close enough to see the damp shine on her bottom lip, and I can’t believe she’s not running away. Not vanishing. And I have no other ideas. Maybe that’s the trick of it. One tiny stolen piece of what I want before I get rid of her for good. A lovely sendoff, really.

So before I can lose my nerve, before she can vanish into the mire or the water or whatever corner of heaven she crawled out of, I lean forward and press my mouth to hers.

It’s barely a kiss.

More of a nervous, bloody, panic-driven peck delivered by a shaky novice.

But her lips are warm. So soft. And real. Real?!

A jolt shoots through me so sharp I jerk back like I’ve touched a live wire.

The wisp gasps.

Not an airy ghost gasp either! Human and startled and terrified!

“You’re real?!” she exclaims. 

Before I can say anything, she stumbles backward, her heel slipping off the bank. Her arms windmill once, twice, and then she drops back into the creek with a spectacular splash.

Water flies everywhere. All I can do is stand there with both hands over my mouth, my face frozen in total shock. 

Then she pops back up, soaked hair plastered to her cheeks, white nightgown clinging to her shoulders, eyes huge with horror.

“You’re not a dream!” she sputters.

“I thought you were a wisp!”

“What is that!?”

“This is what my step-mama’s grandmama told me to do in this situation!”

“To go around kissing on strangers?!”

“I was trying to shock you!”

“You kissed me!”

“That was supposed to be the shocking part!”

She stares at me.

I stare back.

Her mouth trembles. Her brows pinch together. For an awful moment, I think she’s about to cry, and guilt punches clean through my ribs. 

“I’m sorry,” I blurt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were a person. I mean, obviously I knew you were person-shaped, but I thought you were, like, a spirit. Or an angel. Or possibly a demon, but not in an insulting way, more in a biblical temptation kind of—”

My foot slides in the mud. Both her hands fly out like she might catch me, which is very generous considering the circumstances, but ultimately useless since I’m already tipping sideways. I have just enough time to make one deeply undignified noise before the whole world drops out from under me.

Then I’m in the creek too. 

Cold water closes over my head. I come up spluttering, choking, and furious, with marsh grass stuck to my cheek and one shoe halfway off my foot.

The girl takes one look at me. One look.

Then she breaks.

A loud, bright laugh folds her in half right there in the water. She laughs so hard she grabs my shoulders to keep from going under again, and despite the blood on my face, the mud in my mouth, and the pure, soul-obliterating embarrassment of this being my first kiss, a grin spreads across my face before I can stop it. Big and stupid and toothy. 

When she finally gains some control over herself, taking big gasps of air that keep breaking apart into little bursts of giggles, she leans her forehead against my shoulder. My entire body goes stiff with the new contact. Her laughter hums through the soaked cotton of my T-shirt, and her touch is warm.

“Christ!” She jerks back like I’ve burned her. “Please forgive my overfamiliarity,” she apologizes, both hands flying to her chest. “I forget myself.”

Her funny way of talking catches me sideways, and a small snort slips out before I can stop it.

“You talk funny,” I mumble. Everything is fuzzy right now. My manners aren’t quite at their peak.

“I talk funny?” she repeats, recoiling like I’ve reached over and flicked her between the eyes. “Well, you act pretty funny, Miss—uhm”

“Moore,” I blurt. “Avery. Ay—Avery Moore is my name.”

She giggles. It’s not the cackle from before. That wild, helpless one that folded her in half, but a smaller thing. Softer. Like a secret slipping out before she can catch it.

“Miss Avery Moore,” she says, trying my name in that soft careful voice of hers. The sound of it does something horrible to me. She says my name like she’s placing it somewhere delicate. Like it’s a pressed flower tucked between the pages of a Bible. Like it matters that she gets every piece of it right. I decide immediately that I like it. A lot.

“I really like your funny way of talkin’.” 

I turn my face toward the dark, praying there’s enough night between us to hide how stupidly red I’ve gone over giving out one little compliment. At my words her eyes drop from mine, and a flush blooms high beneath the warm brown of her cheek. I decide I can live with her seeing my blush, so long as I can keep staring at hers. 

“I only meant I shouldn’t grab on a stranger like that,” she explains, smoothing both hands down the soaked front of her nightgown like dignity might still be hiding somewhere in the ruined cotton. 

“It’s not very ladylike.”

I nod very seriously, like I know anything about that shit.

I think everyone gave up on me being ladylike a long time ago. Bubbe, not Big Bubbe, just the regular one, says all I need to do is focus on being a gentlewoman and I’ll be fine. That mostly seems to mean opening doors, keeping my nails clean, and not calling Brooks a bitch where other people can hear me.

Clearly, I’m a work in progress.

“I can’t believe you’re real,” she says suddenly. Then, before I can respond, she moves in closer. Drifting through the water, nightgown dragging behind her in pale, ghostly ribbons. She plants one hand in the mud beside my hip, then the other, crawling into the space between my legs with the unsettling confidence of a person who has quickly forgotten again about overfamiliarity.

Christ, her face is so close to mine.

Close enough for me to see the gold threaded through the brown of her eyes. Close enough to notice the tiny beauty mark near the corner of her mouth. Close enough that the damp heat of her breath touches my chin when she speaks.

“That night you chased me,” she says, eyes bright and wild, “I could’ve sworn you were something from a bad dream.”

Then she giggles again. It’s devastating.

She peeks up at me from under her lashes, like she’s all shy or something, “I thought you were divine punishment for disobeying my Mama.” 

I let out a sharp laugh at that. 

“I can confidently say I am not in the business of policing this marsh for your Mama.” I lift one hand, solemn as a preacher giving testimony. “And I ain’t no snitch.”

Her mouth tilts, all skeptical, “then how does your stepmama’s great-grandmama know about me?”

My entire brain trips over itself.

“She doesn’t,” I say too fast. “I mean—not because of me. I didn’t say anything to that old bat. I swear!” 

The girl blinks.

“Haven’t you heard what folks say about her? She’s a witch, and she’s got cow spies, which sounds like a joke until you see them all standing there listening with their big wet eyes, and anyway, she was wrong about you!”

I stop so suddenly my teeth click together. Land the plane Moore, try to not sound absolutely off your rocker. 

“She said you were a wisp,” I finish, voice coming out smaller than I mean it to. “But you’re just a girl.”

Her gaze drops to my mouth. A slow, terrible smile pulls across hers.

“A girl you kissed.”

Heat rushes so fast to my face I’m surprised the creek doesn’t start steaming around us. Behind her, water drips steadily from the ends of her hair, except the strands don’t fall smooth and straight anymore. Curls spring loose at her temples and along her cheeks, the creek washing out whatever had kept them flattened into that long black curtain I’d spent a month chasing around. She doesn’t seem to notice. I do. I can’t stop noticing.

“Does that girl have a name?” I ask.

“Isla Marie Kingfisher.”

The name lands somewhere in my memory. Not familiar exactly, but not new either. Something I might’ve heard passed across the dinner table with church gossip and field reports. Somebody’s daughter. Somebody’s niece. 

“Isla,” I repeat, and her eyes flick up to mine when I say it. 

Then her expression changes. Her gaze drops to the creek water lapping against her waist, then to the white cotton nightgown plastered dark against her knees, streaked with mud and grass stains, one sleeve sagging off her shoulder. 

“Oh,” she whispers. Her hands fly to her hair next. She grabs one soaked handful, pulls it where she can see it, and freezes at the sight of the curls springing wildly between her fingers. All the color drains from her face. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“My nightgown. My hair.”

“Looks fine?” 

Her eyes go huge. “Fine?”

“Good fine,” I say quickly. “Like really nice fine. Like—”

“My Mama is going to kill me.” She says it so quietly I almost don’t hear her. The panic gathers piece by piece, tightening her mouth, widening her eyes, making her whole face go terribly still as another curl slips free against her cheek.

I look at the curl. Then at her. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It was pressed,” she says, like this should mean something to me.

“Pressed where?”

“My hair, Avery.”

“Oh.” I nod like that clears things up. “Right.”

“It took hours.”

“Hours?!” What kind of nonsense are they doing to pretty girls’ hair these days? She makes a strangled little noise and clutches another handful as the curls keep blooming around her face, bigger and wilder by the second. “It had to last.”

“For what?” I ask, figuring church. Maybe pictures.

Instead, she looks down and mutters, “For my visits.”

“What kind of visits?”

“The kind where Mama makes me sit real still and real straight in our parlor while some boy from a good Carolina family tells me about his latest hog hunt.” Her eyes roll heavenward, slow and suffering. “Naturally, I am expected to act impressed.”

“Boys?” I do not like the sound of that.

Isla’s expression turns sour at first, but then her eyes catch on my face, and the corner of her mouth twitches like my disgust has improved her evening.

“Yes, Avery,” she says, almost laughing. “Boys.”

Sick.

“Mama says I have to practice how to be pleasing,” Isla says, and the word comes out like something bitter she’s trying not to spit. “And modest. And feminine. And not”—she gestures helplessly to the creek, the mud, the puff of curls escaping around her face—“this.”

I look at her, all wet and irritated. I’m not sure what could possibly be more pleasing than the view in front of me, but I’m not a boy from a good Carolina family, so what the hell do I know?

“I just wanted to swim again,” she says, and her voice cracks on the last word. “Mama says swimming makes my hair too difficult, and my skin too dark, and my manners too loose.”

Something hot and ugly twists in my chest.

“She sounds like a real joy.”

“She is—” Isla starts, but then she looks down at herself again. The ruined nightgown. The mud on her knees. The curls springing loose around her face, bigger and wilder by the second. Whatever defense she had ready dies before it leaves her mouth.

“I can’t go home like this.” 

“Well, you can’t stay here,” I state the obvious. 

She wrings water from her hair and begins studying the wooded bank like she’s deciding where to camp for the night.

“There are gators,” I press, “Copperheads.”

“I’m well acquainted with the locals.”

This fucking girl. I exasperatedly drag both hands down my face and immediately regret it when my nose gives a bright, mean throb.

“C’mon.” I stand and hold out my hand.

She looks at it, then at me. “I’m not going anywhere someone might call my Mama, Avery Moore.”

“I have a place you can stay,” I say. “Just for the night.”

Her eyes flick back to mine. “What kind of place?”

“An old deer stand. Nobody uses it anymore.” I shrug, trying to make it sound like less of a big deal than it is. “I’ve been fixing it up.”

“For what?”

There is no casual way to explain that I’ve been slowly turning an abandoned hunting platform into a private castle in the woods because everybody needs somewhere to be strange in peace.

So I just shrug again.

“For me.”

Isla studies me for a long second. Then she looks down at the creek water moving around her legs, the ruined nightgown, the ruined hair; all the evidence of her disobedience clinging to her at once.

“Are there spiders?”

“Probably.”

“Avery!”

“It’s the woods, darling. They were here first.”

She fixes me with a little glare and pouts hard enough to make her whole face go round and wounded. It is precious as all hell, so I concede a little. I am a gentlewoman after all. 

“Jesus—quit your pouting precious. Swear I’ll sweep the joint before your highness goes in.” 

“I am not a child, therefore I do not pout,” she huffs, still pouting. I shake my head at her and climb out of the creek first, shoes sinking into the soft bank with a wet suck. Then I reach back to help her over the slick tangle of roots by the shore.

My deer stand is just beyond the trees, raised on four thin legs, with a roof patched together from tin sheets and warped plywood. Kudzu has swallowed one side clean up to the railing, and beneath it I’ve strung every glass bottle I’ve found half-buried in the marsh. They hang from twine and fishing line around the base, clinking whenever the wind moves through, like the whole crooked thing is trying to sing. 

“It’s not much,” I say quickly.

Isla looks up at the crooked ladder, the moss, the little square of darkness waiting above us. 

“If I was a spider,” she says softly, “I’d be awfully honored to live here.” 

I expect her to laugh after that, but she doesn’t. Her face has gone open and faraway in the dark, fixed on the little stand like she’s recognizing something.

“I dreamt about this place before,” she says.

My throat tightens. “You did?”

She nods. “A little house in the trees. The vines. The bottles underneath.” Her eyes slide back to mine, careful and wondering. “I thought I dreamt you up, too.”

“Well,” I say, giving her a crooked grin, “You should dream bigger dreams—with way prettier castles.” With prettier girls. 

Isla doesn’t smile back.

“You’re real, though,” she whispers. “I hope.”

“I’m real.”

“Good.” Her smile trembles at the edges. “Because gosh Avery, I’ll be mighty disappointed if I wake up tomorrow and this was all a silly dream.”

That shuts me up. 

Isla glances back at the stand. “If this is real,” she says, quieter now, “and you’re still here in the morning—”

“I will be.”

“—will you go swimming with me?”

I think about Dad and Abigail asleep inside the house. Big Bubbe’s warning. Isla’s mama, who sounds mean as a snake and half out of her mind, but will still wake up scared sick over her missing daughter. Every sensible thing in the world tells me to march this girl right home.

So I hold out my hand. 

Isla looks down at it and without pause slips her fingers through mine, but her eyes bore into me, waiting for my answer. I give my head a forlorn shake. 

Sensibility be damned I suppose. 

“Clearly,” I sigh, “I can’t say no to you.”

[lilypadd23]

Mood board for the latest fic, Woman Inside My Soul for @ohnogotafeeling

[lilypadd23]

If you’re looking for sapphic yearning, McLennon outsider point of view, 1970s New York, daydreamy character studies, Beatle wives yuri…

Come meet us in Chelsea 🤍🫒🌇

New Fic: Woman Inside My Soul (I Wish I Knew What It Means)

For @ohnogotafeeling

[callmeazu]

And there we were, both soaked from the rain outside, drenched to the bone and ready to walk back. Outside the elevator, the rain pounded against the building's walls, rattling off the windowpanes. I lost myself in her green eyes. She couldn't decipher the thought running through my mind at that moment, and after asking me, all she got in response was that I closed the short distance between us, pushed her against the elevator wall, and kissed her passionately... 💋

-

Y ahí estábamos, las dos empapadas por la lluvia que caía fuera, caladas hasta los huesos y dispuestas a caminar de vuelta. Fuera de aquel ascensor, la lluvia golpeteaba fuertemente las paredes del edificio, repiqueteando en los cristales de las ventanas. Me perdí en sus ojos verdes. Ella no supo descifrar el pensamiento que me recorría la mente en ese momento y, tras preguntarme, todo lo que obtuvo por respuesta fue que recorrí la leve distancia que nos separaba, la empujé contra la pared del ascensor, y la besé apasionadamente... 💋

[horror-sapphic]

CATE DUNLAP THOUGHTS - Nsfw Headcanons (18+)

Cw; smut/sexual themes: mentions of Sub Cate, strap on, Dom Cate, G!p Cate, G!p reader, squirting, mommy kink, oral, butt stuff, sub reader, lactating, impact play

a/n: rubbing my hungry little hands together like a horny fly

Sub cate likes when you slap her around, leaving your red handprints on her pale perky ass that hurts when she sits, the pain lingering throughout the day. Or when you spank her greedy cunt if she begs too much/cums when she's not supposed to, or when you give her a swift slap to the face while she's on her knees in front you being her usual naughty self, sometimes slapping her so hard you end up splitting her lip which she rolls her tongue over -- collecting some of the blood on it with a smile on her face.

Sub cate, along with being slapped around, loves when you're really rough with her, calling her names like a whore and slut. When you fling her around on the bed or other surfaces you fuck her on, she'll whine, but deep-down loves how it makes her feel. "Say it" "I l-lovee beeeing ugh f- hmf fucked like a whoreee" she whines while having four of your fingers stuffing her cunt from behind while she's arched on all fours.

Cate loves when g!p reader pins her head to the bed with her rear in the air. Spreading her cheeks apart to spit on her fluttering ass hole before fucking it raw, making her grip onto the sheets as she moans and wails for more. "Mhm fuck baby, s-so deep i-in my ahh", "Shut. up" you cut her off, placing your palm over her pouty lips to quiet her cock drunk mumblings. Fucker her harder, your entire length disappearing into her tight hole, fucking her so she has trouble sitting for a day and sometimes the day after, she loves the reminder of it.

Cate loves when g!p reader makes her swallow the length of your thick cock; she loves the feeling of gagging around you. Her own saliva covering her lips, leaving a messy trail. Her face turning to a peachy pink from her lack of breath, which you only give her access to between several pumps. The gurgling, slick sounds that fill the room from her skilled mouth, continuing to swallow and gag around your cock. A nasty smile on her face as it gets fucked out, reminding you how much of a cock whore she really is and how much she loves the feeling of you in her throat, the same throat you call one of your favorite fuck holes.

G!P Cate loves watching you fuck yourself on her cock, sinking down on her again and again until you're creaming and cumming hard around her cock. The skin slapping sounds filling the room while her eyes of locked onto the strings of cum forming from you riding her hard.

G!P Cate loves cumming in you, she loves when you let her fill you up, or when you forget to tell her to pull out. Laying in missionary, locking your legs around her thrusting hips to keep her stuck inside you. "Want me to fill you up baby?" she teases, leaning forward to make out with you while positioning her hips faster, desperate to watch her cum slip out of your twitching hole.

Dom Cate loves tying you down to the bed so she can play with you however she wants, keeping you cumming and cumming again as she presses the vibrating toy on your clit hard. When she wants to be really mean, after a few orgasms when you're sure to be sensitive, she'll pull your clit back to reveal more of it and press the vibrator on it harder and on a higher setting. Forcing your body to thrash around and wail as she just laughs and degrades you "look a

Sub Cate loves when you slip fingers in her ass while you eat her out, lower half of your face dripping with her slick from her slutty cunt, while you tease a finger in her ass-- gently fucking her to the rhythm of your flicking tongue. Or when she's riding you, you'll just slip a finger or two in her tight hole to make her orgasm hit a bit harder, making her squirt all over you.

You love fucking Cate into the meanest mating press with your thick strap on, her legs up to her ears as you pound your cock deep into her squelching pussy. Pounding her tight cunt so hard her filthy mind goes blank from the stretching, completely cock drunk off the strokes you're giving her. Slick skin slapping fapping noises filling the room as her upper body goes slack as her orgasm approaches, speeding up and going harder, and her cunt can't hold it in anymore, squirting all over your lower half, and dripping down her thighs.

Cate with a lactation kink loves latching on to your perky leaky nipple, leaving you smiling to yourself when her hungry lips wrap her favorite drink, flicking her tongue at a hungry pace. The warm liquid filling her mouth with a soft hum coming from her pink lips. "Thank you, mommy," she sighs after draining both of your tits for the night, a string of saliva following her lips.

Dom Cate with Sub reader telling you how she likes her pussy ate, legs spread with you between them -- on your knees with your hands tied behind your back. Cate is gripping the back of your head, pushing you against her slick pussy while your tongue slips over her clit again and again. "Mhmm jusst like that" she sighs, rolling her head back with her eyes locked shut. Gently biting her lips while slightly humping your face. "Put your tongue in me, hmhm fuckk, like th-that" she instructs. Groaning at the feeling of your tongue fucking her hole while your mouth in practically suctioning onto her raised clit. "Mhmm gonna cum in your mouth hmm, you want that?" she teases, earning a hum from your mouth still attached to her. With your movements being sped up with her instruction, she finally cums on your tongue, your chin covered in her juices. "Stick your tongue out, let mommy see her cum on your tongue." "Ahhh." "Good girl"

Cate, who loves eating your ass out, spreading you open and licking your sweet rim, getting it wet for her before sticking her pink tongue in your ass, thrusting it in and out. Using her hand to force your back to arc deeper for her to get in farther while using her parting your twitching cunt. Using her thumb to toy with your slick clit. Switching back and forth from thrusting her tongue in and out of you and licking your rim, all while playing with your leaky pussy, pulling a quick orgasm out of you, your asshole tightening around her tongue.

[horror-sapphic]

For my baby! | Sub!Jinx x Mommy!fem reader

Synopsis: A steamy morning with subby jinx

this was supposed to be a drabble, but I can never help myself

cw; smut (18+), breast feeding - lactation kink, anal is teased, nothing happens, jinx squirting in her panties from humping your leg > <, jinx is sooo subby (mdlg undertones I guess??). morning sex, squirting mentioned as pissing and reg squirting, reader using vibrator on jinx, milk squirting?, a bit of somno at the beginning

wc:1k

a/n I love writing sub jinx x mommy reader ugh it just fills my soul, also like 50% edited -- sorry for any errors

Most mornings with Jinx usually started the same, her waking up before you, creepily watching you sleep. Waiting for you to get up just so she can have her morning fix. Her fix being your milk to be exact.

Jinx had expressed an interest in wanting you to take supplements to be able to produce milk so she could drink it from you a few months ago, and to her surprise, it didn’t take much for you to be down with it. You found it hot, and as a good way to get closer to your girlfriend in order to give her whatever “healing” she would get from doing this.

But on this particular morning, Jinx just can’t seem to help herself. She woke with a heavy ache in her chest and leaky cunt, an ache that she wants to be put out by you. She doesn’t have time to wait for you to get up, she’s hungry now!. 

And who was Jinx to wait for something she wanted?

She slowly crawled over to your sleeping body in her baby pink cotton panties and baggy gray band tee, straddling your legs and reaching forward to place both of her hands on the swell of each of your breasts. The warmth from them fills her pale palms as she begins to squeeze them gently before playing with your nipples, squeezing both buds until they become hard, until milk starts to leak onto the white tank top you went to bed wearing. Creating a somewhat clear patch on your shirt, Jinx’s eyes go wide from this. Licking her lips before leaning forward to place her mouth on the spot. 

“Hmm” she hummed softly, licking the sweet liquid up before wrapping her lips around your clothed nipple. The taste of your milk and clean fabric filling her mouth and senses. ‘Moreeee’ she thinks to herself, lifting your now stained top for straight access to what she’s craving. Your peaked nipple, staring her back in the face, so inviting. She began to lean forward to latch on until-

“You really couldn't wait baby?” a rocky voice murmured out; the cool sensation of your wet nipple being met with the morning air filling the room -- giving you slight chills. “Mnmmgg, you know I hate to wait” she whined with a squeak, her lips poked and pouted as they do whenever she doesn’t get what she wants.

“Brat” you huff, motioning her to lift her hips up so you can sit up with your back against the headboard, taking your shirt off completely. “C’mon baby” you coo, motioning her to sit on your leg again. Jinx’s pout quickly shifts into a smile, crawling back to straddle on one of your legs. “Drink up”.

She wastes no time in latching on to your leaky nipple, eager lips wrapping around the supply of her favorite drink – sucking and flicking her tongue at a gentle yet hungry pace. The midly sweet and warm liquid filling her hungry mouth. “Hmm.. needy much?” you ask, feeling her soaked cunt lips pressing on your thigh. “Leaking from your panties?” you tease. “What do you need from Mommy baby?” your voice gently rolling off your tongue to her mischievous ears.

You take your hand that was loosely laying by your side to tuck a strand of blue hair behind her ears, before finding its place on the back of her head gently holding her head that’s leaning on your chest. Jinx doesn’t say much, with her mouth at least. “Mhmm” she groans around your nipples, her drinking pace coming to a pause as she pulls away to have her big begging eyes looking up at you boring your low lidded ones.

“Hmm? What do you need from me?” you ask as softly as you did the first time. Jinx doesn’t answer, she just begins to slowly rock her hips while her eyes don’t leave yours. “Ohhh, you just wanna hump mommies' leg? Is that it?” you ask, cocking your head to the side while brushing her hair out her face. Jinx nods, rolling her hips deep and slow. Leaning back to your chest to drink from your other swollen tit while palming the other one she just drank from, “Take what you need” you hum, bringing your hand back to the back of her head.

Jinx closes her eyes before speeding her hips up a bit more, “Fuckk. Do you know how fucking wet you are? I can feel your leaky little pussy dragging up and downnnn my leg baby” you groan, using your other hand to put on her tailbone helping her hump faster. Jinx squeaks around your nipple, taking the bud between her teeth to gently bite and tug while still sucking. “Mhmm such a good baby for me, you gonna let me stuff that cunt after? Or fill your ass? Which one?” you tease, moaning at the thought of stuffing your girlfriends' holes full.

Your tit falls out of Jinx’s mouth from your words, “Yes pleaseee. I-I want you t-to pound my pussy a-and my ass mommy” she whines, her mouth hung open as she pants like a dog at the friction. 

PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP PALP

The lewd sounds coming from her wet cunt being slapped against your thigh again and again– filling the room, making your slick trail onto the sheets under you. “Finish” you instruct, guiding her head back to your nipple that has milk trickling from it still. “Let me help you baby” you coo, reaching beside you to the dresses that houses a few toys. The buzzing from a mini-Hitachi wand adding to the messy sounds of the room as you place the buzzing toy on her clit while she’s still humping your leg like a dog. “Mhmm fuck mommy” she cries, pulling away from you, snapping her hips against the toy. 

“S-so fucking, mhm ngughhh” fleshed out in pleasure, her wandering hands go to grab the tit she was just drinking from. Sticking her tongue out of her mouth before squeezing your tit so milk squirts out from it onto her face and chest. Sucking down the beads of milk that lands on her tongue and cleaning the remainder of what reached the sides of her mouth off with her greedy tongue.

“So fucking greedy” you moan, your eyes taking in the dirty sight. “C-cloose,m-mommy” she mumbles, leaning back on her hands placed for balance as her hips snaps against you faster, the vibrators setting goes up higher as your eyes are locked in on how soaked she is, her cotton panties clinging to her puffy lips with a gooey patch in the middle as your breast milk still drips down her slim torso leading to her clothed cunt.

“Hnghhh, fuck” she wails, she quickly rips off her shirt, a smile dawns on your lips as you enjoy the sight of her perky pink nipples rocking and bouncing into one another as her hips buck harder against you and the toy. You reach a hand up to one, pinching and pulling on her pink buds hard. Pulling it towards you, then back in to her again and again, even twisting it.

“F-fuck. m’cumming, m’cumming mommy mhmm g’nna squirt for you fuuuckk” she cries as you press the toy on her slicked clit harder. The humping, the nipple pulling, and the vibrator filling Jinx’s senses, overwhelming her. “Do it, do it for mommy baby”.

“Fuckkkkk” she wails, her rough hip motions coming to a halt as her orgasm approaches, her head hangs back while her mouth opens with no sound coming out, her face scrunched in pleasure as she cums.. hard. “Shit baby. Look at you pissing all over mommy like this” you tease, her squirt trickling from her panties onto your leg. “Mhmm, shiiiit” she hums, her hips stuttering as you wiggle the toy side to side on her clit making her squirt more.

“Sooo good” you mumble, turning the setting up to the highest and being met with a gurgled moan coming from the blue-haired girl that’s trying to come down from her orgasm. “T-too much” she cries, her hips involuntarily twitching from the overstimulation. “M’sorry” you whisper, turning off the toy and putting it to the side. 

You reach for her fucked out face, pulling her into a deep kiss,hungrily rolling your tongues onto one anothers. The feeling of her pissy cunt still straddled on your thigh clouding your mind, the soaked patch from her panties makes you want to take her again. “Thank you mommy” she whispers, pulling back from the warm kiss as her arms reach to wrap around your shoulders to pull you closer. Her warm pussy still pulsing on your leg, you can tell she’s still sensitive. 

“Anything for my baby”

[horror-sapphic]

Midnight lover | G!P Sevika x fem reader

Summary: cheater!Sevika’s wandering eyes catches a new face at her favorite brothel, good news for her — bad for you.

Cw: nawstyyy smut (18+), infidelity (Sev claims that she isn't cheating on her wife if she does it with paid whores *her words not mine* in the bum!) Sevika has a huge cock, rough fucking, spit for lube, rough anal --barebacking in this bitchhhh, prostitution, reader loses anal virginity, Sev makes reader push her cum out whoops..

a/n: MY HALLOWEEN TREAT FOR YOU ALL!!!

probably errors but oh well, this has been burning a hole in my drafts for a WHILEEE

Wc- 1k+ (this was literally supposed to be 300 words omg)

Everyone needs a break from their nagging wife every now and then, at least that's what Sevika thinks. Every once in a while, she’ll take a quick fuck at the filthiest brothel she can find, which has recently been a place she’s very familiar with. Filthy as in what goes on behind the shimmery curtains or stained red doors, the place itself is very pristine and well kept. Sevika isn’t that desperate to fuck in a dirty ditch, she’s a lady after all.

Yes, she does in fact pay to fuck these willing women by the hour. Giving up marital money for brief moments of grimy infidelity, of course felt very guilty at first. But that guilt quickly washed over her the moment her body went slack from the messy orgasm caused by two women sucking and gagging on her cock and balls, while another was on her face riding her skilled tongue. 

She was known to be a mean, rough, and nasty fuck. Quickly pounding into the women from behind, as time and her money was ticking. Only fucking them in the ass since to her, fucking another woman in the cunt only counts as cheating. Not getting sucked and jacked off by one or multiple women at a time or eating another woman’s cunt / her own cum out of their ass counts.

So technicallyyyyyy… she wasn’t cheating - cheating. She was doing something that she thought would be forgiven by her oh so sweet wife at home.

She’s even fucked her way through all the workers, fucking them again and again, sometimes mutiple at a time. She’s quite known there, even getting discounts from her frequent visits there. 

But you. 

You were a new face, a face she hasn’t fucked to the point of drooling, a face she hasn’t stuffed into soft cotten sheets as she assaulted your tight hole, a new face she has yet to toy with. She ‘must have you’, she thinks to herself. Watching as you give out drinks to the other members, faking a smile and dragging out convos for bigger tips. Sevika finds herself sitting down on a barrel seat at the bar, finishing her favorite dark whiskey, with a gentle slam on the dark wood bar table. Sevika spots the owner and makes a “come here” motion with her two fingers.

“How much for her?” her voice mumbles to the 'Madam' of the brothel. “For her? C’mon it’s her first day Sev, go for your regulars” the slightly pitchy woman pouts at Sev, whose expression is hard as stone. “T-Ten then” the Madam whispers, taking a slight step back. “Thousand?” Sevika’s voice growing noticeably irritable by the roughness in her tone.

“Fi-Five then. I can’t go any lower, she’s new. You know all the new girls' prices are always a bit out there” the woman pleads. “Mhm” Sevika huffs, standing up to pull her wallet out, throwing a wad of bills onto the table, in front of the older woman. “I want her ready for me”

 “She’ll be in room 5, we’ll have her prepped for your…. preferences”

…….

“They said you wanted me ....ready” your soft voice coos out, already in the position she wants you in. Topless with just panties on, on all fours with your ass waving high in the air, your face stuffed in the sheets, only pulling up to be able to talk clearly. “Are you? You know I have a cock right?” she grumbles. “Yes ma’am” you answer, shoving your face back into the sheets. “Good” was the last thing she said before beginning to have her way with you. Pulling your baby pink thong down your legs to get a look at the puckered hole she was going to fuck raw tonight, her pants falling to her ankles leaving just her plain top on. 

‘TUH’ a glob of spit sitting on the rim of your hole before sliding through the slit of your untouched cunt (who sevika glances at, the urge to play with it crossing her mind), Sevika angles your hips better as she aligns her thick brown cock to your asshole. “I don’t do warmups, you know that right. Say red if you want me to stop” she stills, waiting for your response. “Yes ma’am”.

“Fuuuuuck” she rasps out, the feeling of your tight, warm asshole snug around her as she slowly splits you to accommodate her length and thickness making her heavy balls throb. “They prepped your virgin hole good, s-shit” she whines, slipping out. Her heavy leaking tip back at the entrance of your hole again, you shift on your knees before she shovers her entire length into you this time with one thrust. “AHH, mhmm ” a whine slips out of your mouth, the brief sharp pain of your ass being filled like that for the first time makes a thin layer of sweat bead on your hairline. 

“Taking me so well, y’hungry for it?” she mocks, referring to her cock, slamming into your ass harder, at a steady speed. The feeling of her balls slapping against your cunt from this angle makes you grip the sheets a little tighter. “Y-yes ma’am, I need it so bad” you whine out, truthfully. Looking over your shoulder with a desperate pout on your lips, you take this opportunity to take her looks in: her tall, muscular built frame, her chiseled pretty face, and low lidded eyes.

“Tell me how good it- it fucking feels… ahh Fuuucking hell” a loud moan slipping out her mouth as she picks up speed. “You cock feels so good in my ass ma’am” you mewled in front of her, taking her like a real cockwhore. “I can feel you s- fuckkk. I can feel you stretching around me” Sevika moans, her rough hands spreading your cheeks apart, completely lost in the sight of your creamy hole meeting her cock all the way to the base with every thrust.

With a proud and lazy grin, she gives a sharp smack to your ass, enjoying the ripples from it. “Mhmm, just keep sucking my cock in your little ass like that” she rasps, her thrusts becoming harder and faster, drilling into you. The sight of your ring squeezing her length as she pounds into you makes her mouth hang open in desperation to fill you up.

Slick from your cunt begins to slip down your legs, “Fuck- you’re sooo wet” she teases. Her fingers wiping it up before tasting you. ‘Mhmm, I know what I will have you do on the next visit’ she says to herself.

Her thrusts speed up, getting rougher with each smack of her pelvis to your ass. “Right t-there” you squeak. The wet slapping sounds coming from her drilling your tight hole filling the room, getting louder, and wet sounding. “Such a good fuck hole for me mhmm”, this new hard pace making you lose your mind, your face going slack from how good it feels.

The deep stretch of her fucking you deeper, the slapping of her balls grazing your clit from the mean arch she has you in, and her eager words make you lose it. “Mhmm nguh fuck, I’m close ma’am” you wail, Sevika begins slip her fingers under you to rub your clit hard and fast as the amount of slick coming from your ass grows. A smile growing on her face at how fucked out she’s made you. Taking pride in her work.

Your asshole begins to tighten around her cock as your cunt still drools onto her balls. Your pussy becoming a slippery mess.. “So- so fucking good, mhmm don’t stop, p-please. I-need- need it - I’ve never, nghnn please” you’re babbling at this point, rocking your hips to match her thrusts (as she lets you), seeking your own orgasm. The slick from your ass and leaky pussy collecting itself onto her slightly trimmed pubes (she tries....sometimes), slicking the hairs down. Creating a soaked slapping sound from how fast she's pounding into you.

SHLP-SHLP- SHILP-SHLP-SHLP-SHILP

You’re so close to cumming it’s making your head spin, “Almost there, just-just hold it” she mutters. “Mhmm aw- ah, ohh fuckkk… now” her hips stuttering while trying to keep the pace, the strength behind her thrusts being the nail in the coffin. “Cumming,i’m cuuu fuckkk” you wail out into the sheets.

“Ah, mhm— fuckkkk” she huffs as her seed begins to fill your stretched hole with her big load. Her thrusting comes to a halt, pulling her cock out with a loud squelch. Sevika bends herself down to your level, having her soft plushy lips lay right by your now pinkish ear. “Push it out” she instructs. Sevika brings herself back up to watch from behind, spreading your cheeks to get a look at your used hole, she taps a finger on it, as a way of saying ‘now’. You do what you’re told and begin pushing her cum out of your ass.

"Nguhh" you whine out. Her thick load slipping from out of your puckering hole and down your crevice at a slow pace, Sevika being as greedy as she is, she spreads more of you open. Giving her access to view your fucked out shithole and your spasming cunt. “More” she taunts, you begin pushing out more, a glob creamy cum slipping out of your pussy as well– globing down onto the sheets below you.

You had come from both holes, “How greedy” Sevika hums. “Mhmm, fuck” you grunt, still pushing her load out. “Enough” she tuts, paired with a final slap to your ass.

“You will hold the rest of it in until your next visitor, let them know who was here before”

a/n: could've made the ending part filthier but... didn't wanna scare yall

anyways....part 2??? — check the comments for more info

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