The Raven's Den

| MINORS DNI | | 25 | She/Her It/Its | Siscon enjoyer | Weird little freak | Enjoy your stay 🖤

[willowsnpillows]

Intro

Heya, I’m Selene. This account is getting re-tooled to mainly be for my writing since I said fuck it and just started reblogging horny shit on main. (May still post pics from time to time).

There may be harder kinks here so if that’s not your deal you are more than allowed to block or unfollow.

Beneath the read more’ll be my tags and a list of my writing.

Writing:

Changing of Seasons - You have been living in your own apartment for years, you don’t really have many friends, your job is a bit shaky, and everything has settled into a boring routine. Transitioning helped, but you’re still everything that constitutes you, your world is and always has been grey and full of apathy. Until your younger sister shows up at your workplace without a place to stay.

End. - The world is ending, and you just want to spend time with your younger sister. You have been attracted to her for longer than you’d like to admit, you don’t know if you can tell her before you both die. (This one is going to be shorter than changing of seasons and likely will take a secondary focus for now.)

Tags:

#The raven’s quill - Writing

#Selene is preening her feathers - Nudes

#Selene is cawing - Horny Talk (might go unused now)

[willowsnpillows]

Another insincere smile, a hand on their waist, a joke that is returned with a reddening of their face, a kiss, a finished drink, an invite back to theirs, a gentle clumsy touch, all just to fill a gaping wound in your chest you’ve held since the day you were born.

It always follows the same cycle. You get lonely, you get desperate. You find a stranger, the sex is usually okay. But that void remains. Nothing again and again. A pit longing for something to be slotted into place. The pieces just don’t quite fit right. You feel nothing yet you wish for so much more.

You found the world to be so unlike the movies, starting with your best friend in the world admitting she had a crush on you early in high-school. You tried, she was gorgeous, brilliant, and so fun to be around. The pieces were there yet the picture remained fragmented.

This cycle repeated often. You would try desperately to make relationships work over and over and over. You would always find yourself back home. You would always find yourself sobbing in your big sister’s lap.

She would run her fingers through your hair, reassert that you didn’t have to be like the other boys, and that you’ll find your person.

Then you transitioned. You finally understood. You didn’t want someone else because you didn’t want you.

Your sister was there for you immediately, on top of your new name and pronouns, helped you get a new wardrobe with some of her own hard earned cash.

You started spending more and more time with her, little by little feeling something right. Coffee and lunch, movies and the bar. Exhausted evenings with a movie and pizza on the couch that would quickly turn to napping atop one another.

Your other relationships often failed, but there she was, your shining beacon in the dark.

You begin to realize, it’s her. It’s always been her. But, why did it have to be her. The one time you long for another’s touch in a way that simply isn’t physical and it’s her. Your older sister. Her gleaming smile, her cute freckles, her stupid sense of humor, and even all of the times she pesters you while you’re trying to rest.

You let it well inside your chest. There’s never going to be another for you, but she can’t be either. At least until one night where you both are drunkenly walking home from the bar.

Evening clouds over you like a soft blanket, once charted routes feel unfamiliar, with her the world feels sharp and bright. You stumble, you fall, and she catches you. The streetlights cast a halo over her soft skin.

Everything you have felt floods out of your chest.

She kisses you, and the world feels right.

[ifitbleedsbiteharder]

"my son turned ou-" shut the fuck up cunt thats my daughter not yours

[willowsnpillows]

Changing of Seasons Ch. 6 - Snowdrift

You stayed the night at your boss’ place. Deep down you really appreciate her. She also… pet your head, and called you hella petnames. You’re not sure what it means, but, the both of you have a long workday ahead, her especially. And, you need to get your uniform and laptop from yours first, which means yet again confronting Ivy.

You drift in and out of sleep the whole night. You don’t even end up using Kate’s tv, just kinda stare at the ceiling. You stir once or twice to the unfamiliar noise of her part of town, knock back out and repeat the process.

Around probably three in the morning you start to finally doze off. Your shift starts at noon and you hope Kate won’t mind you sleeping in. You had a long night after all.

Your sleep is dreamless.

You stir to the sound of footsteps. Your mind reaches for context but can’t quite seem to grasp it. Your first thought is Ivy. You find yourself disappointed as you open your eyes. You’re not in your apartment and you’re not with Ivy. Last night wasn’t a nightmare after all. Kate’s house is still draped in darkness, her kitchen appliances granting only the smallest bit of illumination. Kate is veeery slowly and deliberately opening the fridge. She probably didn’t mean to wake you.

You call out a half-yawned

Whatime issit?

She squeeks out a tiny startled noise, nearly jumping out of her skin. She then takes what you consider to be an overly dramatic sharp inhale.

Oh Autumn! You scared the crap out of me, sweetheart.

It’s four thirty, I’ve gotta finish getting ready for my shift. I’m sorry I woke you. You sleep okay at least? I know my couch isn’t the coziest place in the world.

You sigh, you really didn’t.

Nope.

Her shoulders droop.

I’m sorry honey, I knew that couch is, pardon my french, shitty.

It’s- it’s not the couch, like yeah, you need a new one, but, nah, just too much on my mind.

You still wanna talk about it later? It was about your sister right?

You’d have to admit to your incestuous kiss to paint a full picture. Not the least to mention that you’re so fucking garbage at lying. Guilt and shame always work hand-in-hand to shove the words out of your chest.

Yeah it is. And I- I dunno. I’ve got a lot to work through. I gotta talk with her today to get my uniform and my laptop, and my jacket. She kinda… hates me right now. It’s not gonna be easy.

She grants you a gentle smile. The way her nose crinkles and her smile lines start to show my prominently is just so… cute.

Well… you’ll get through it okay? You’re a strong girl. And I believe in you ‘kay?

She walks over and ruffles your hair.

H-hey, stop that!

She giggles and flashes you a mischievous little grin.

Sorry! Sorry. Always wanted to do that. Your hair is just so gosh dang soft. And your curls are downright enviable.

Really? It’s embarrassing, but you stopped taking care of your hair as much in recent years. It’s simply been too much effort. Dollar store shampoo and washing every 3-4 days is about all you’ve done for ages.

I- thank you.

She wanders to the connected kitchen and taps her foot as she impatiently waits for the coffee machine.

How do you still drink that stuff?

She keeps herself laser focused on the slowly churning machine.

C’mon I gotta go sooon. Hm? Oh yeah, it’s good I dunno. Do I need another reason? Why did you stop?

Because we get a free drink every shift, and I’m the only employee there other’n you more than half the time. Of course I’d start to hate it.

She looks genuinely awestruck. Out of all of the times she has caught you sobbing in the break room, nearly fighting customers, and heard about you breaking down about some new hookup that went sour this is what catches her off guard?

But, how else do you get your caffeine in? I need mine to function.

You shrug half-heartedly under your blanket cocoon.

Energy drinks exist. So does caffeinated tea.

She chuckles.

Fair enough.

She goes about her morning routine, packing herself a lunchbox, sipping her coffee, and jumping from little task to little task. You just quietly observe her from your spot on the couch. It’s kinda nice seeing this sorta thing. It’s a peek behind the curtain, the parts a person doesn’t always show on bare display. And it certainly makes her seem less infallible than what you pictured. She keeps getting distracted with her phone, and random little spots of cleaning, it’s nice to know she’s just another woman same as you. Makes the idea of being her friend way less terrifying.

She almost vaults herself out the door before remembering your presence in her home.

Feel free to take a nap if you’ve gotta okay sweetheart? Don’t want you coming to work with no energy. The house is all yours, well, mostly, my room’s off limits right now but help yourself to anything you need okay?

You give her a timid little nod, right as you’re about to lay back down on the couch and get some shut-eye, she rushes over and squeezes you in a massive hug, she rubs her thumb along your back and holds you tight. It feels like the second sip of hot cocoa, warm, comforting, but no longer painful.

I’ve seen you in some bad places, it seems like this one hit you harder than usual. I’m here if you need me okay?

Your whole body flushes, sex is nothing usually, it’s not a big deal, and admittedly for you it comes easily, but touch like this? This breaks you so gently.

Mhmm.

She ruffles your hair, and rushes out the door without another goodbye.

You double-check that you actually set an alarm for ten so that you can grab your shit from yours and hopefully get to work on time.

You find yourself drifting back to sleep gracefully quick.

You dream of Ivy grabbing your hips, of her biting your lip, of her finding her way to the hem of your pants and slipping underneath. You dream of her gently rubbing your clit while you moan out her name into her shoulder. And you dream of cuddling up next to her.

You make an exasperated groan of dismay as your alarm wakes you.

Fucking hell brain, that was cruel.

You sigh, audibly talking to yourself.

Well, now you just have to confront her alongside that new image in your mind, no biggie. You don’t even have her number to let her know you’re coming over and that you need your shit. Will she even be there? You can work a shift without your laptop but you need your uniform.

This sucks. This really sucks. Hopefully you can just get it, get out, maybe ask for some form of contact, and go to work.

The drive back to yours is fraught with creeping anxiety. You just can’t quite seem to swallow your fear around seeing Ivy. You still need to fix everything but there just isn’t enough time, you have no words to say other than just “sorry.”

You creep up to your usual parking spot in a desperate attempt to put this off. One of your main defining traits seems to continually be avoidance. Another reason to hate yourself to chuck in the ever growing pile, oh well.

You put on the bravest face you can, wander over to your door and knock.

The silence that follows upticks your anxiety by quite a bit, you need your uniform to work and you need to work this shift. Well, you don’t, you don’t have a replacement, however, you’d feel like a dick leaving Kate high and dry especially since you’re most likely going to be asking to crash at hers again.

After a few minutes of stabbing nervous thoughts Ivy opens the door.

Why are you here, Autumn?

She shows you little emotion, her chest is puffed out, and she keeps scanning every inch of your body. You need to do everything in your power not to take your usual path of mulched earth where you fuck every little thing up.

I… need my stuff for work. Uniform y’know?

She gazes daggers into you.

Ugh. I knew this would happen. Why didn’t you grab your stuff last night?

You breathe in slowly, and exhale.

I didn’t want to make all of it worse than I already had. And… for what it’s worth I’m sorry Ivy. I hate myself for this. I was so fucking stupid.

She steps aside from the door, giving you an unobstructed view of your newly cleaned apartment. She not so gently nudges you inside.

I don’t know if sorry is gonna cut it… I need more time to think. Please get your things and go. Pack for a few days at least, please.

That stupid little flame that eternally burns inside you is begging you to pick a fight. If being meek won’t work, maybe pushing back will.

Oh come on. Ivy. This is bullshit. I said sorry, I let you stay in my goddamn apartment and that still isn’t enough?

Don’t. Autumn. Don’t.

Or what? Genuinely how do I even earn your favor at this point? I was trying. I was trying to make sure our relationship wasn’t gone forever. I didn’t realize that you turned out like this.

Red hot frustration and anger pour down Ivy’s cheeks. You have not heard her raise her voice but she screams.

I don’t want to fucking lose you again!

She chokes up a sob.

Do you think I genuinely wanted this? You did this Autumn, you did. Not me. My entire world crumbled under me do you think I really wanted to watch it happen again?

Ivy helplessly throws a fist against your apartment wall.

Do you know what will happen if anyone finds out? It doesn’t matter that I didn’t know, you did. I barely have anything and if anyone learns about what happened between us I will lose everything. You will lose everything. Why didn’t you just think, Autumn?!

She grabs you by your shirt collar, making you flinch more than you meant to.

So please.

Please.

Give me some space so I can figure this out.

She turns around, walking towards your bathroom.

Get your shit and go. Now.

You feel your heart ripped in twain. Fuck you’re a monster.

I- okay.

You halfheartedly grab your clothes, some essentials, your favorite bat plush Marty, all whilst Ivy hides in your bathroom. You scramble to find a sticky note and a pen.

“I’m sorry Ivy. I screwed up again. I want to make things better between us, I want to keep the sister I didn’t even know I had around. I’m sorry.”

You scribble down Kate’s address just in case she wants to reach out, but you’re not sure there’s any coming back from this.

You know Ivy, she will sit on something that hurt her for days and just when you think you and her are better, everything she bottled pops and little can be done to mend the wound.

You used to take her to nature trails when you were both teens. You hated leaving your room but it was worth it to see that smile. It became routine. Every Friday you would drive out to somewhere pretty just her and you. That went on for two years. The second year however, you got a stupid idea. You thought it would be funny to ditch her and come back 10 minutes later to scare the shit out of her. She didn’t talk to you for a week after. The both of you never went on those hikes again.

You leave the note on your nightstand, hoping she’ll see. Your shift is going to be hell.

[sweetestsixshooter]

One Heart

It's almost the anniversary that you used to share with your ex-wife, and you can't help but miss her, even after everything. Your sweet daughter asked to take you out to the club where you met her mother all those years ago.

🎵 One Heart - Kaskade

You walk into the nightclub, early enough in the night that people haven't crowded the dance floor yet. Vague nerves pluck at your fingers, trying to make you adjust your clothes, but the dim lights and the smells of the venue wash you in nostalgia whose tides soak away the anxiety of coming back after so many years. She takes the lead, tracking to a bartop on the far end of the main room, bypassing a few that she clearly doesn't care for as much.

A quick glance back at you, and then she's ordering the drinks. You finger around for your slim wallet in your bag, but by the time you pluck it out she's tapping her card on the reader. It's adorable, she feels like she's treating you to drinks, but your birthday gift to her would cover a month's worth of overpriced drinks, and her voice acting commissions don't cover what other parents would charge their adult daughter in rent. Yet. The expensive microphone and sound canceling foam panels were worth every penny, her voice is gorgeous. She took to voice training with an enthusiasm rarely seen outside of the pressures of olympic parents pushing competition on them, and you're dead certain she could make a career out of it if she wants. Singing too, maybe.

'You can do anything you put your mind to' is usually just a phrase, material for motivation if it gets through someone's insecurities, but success is in Chanté's heart and those dedicated eyes. She turns to you with a wink, a drink, and an excuse not to think. Either she perused the bottles of liquor on top of the cabinets at home to figure out a simple cocktail you'd like, or her mother dropped a detail about what you like to drink before she left. Her other mother. You're just you, so Angelica got 'mother' in your mind and you got 'mom' in Chanté's voice. She just calls your ex by her name, in the rare times that your daughter even refers to her.

The fog machine is timid this early in the night, and you watch its wisps eddy and swirl in the air a foot off the ground and take in the moment. It smells like a Halloween costume store, but heavier, nights of neon sweat instead of autumn days of latex masks. The drink kicks, and the first swallow is a threshold, but she got a flavorful liquor mixed with sweet soda, so a quick stir with your finger, a surreptitious suck of the liquid off it, and the drink goes down smoother. Your daughter sidles up next to you, leaning on the bar, flicking a glance at you, and then she peruses the 'crowd' with you. You just might be eyeing the same girls, though there's still a little sting at being here. You picked up her mother at a place like this, twenty-three years ago. Nearly to the day, it's only a week off.

Chanté doesn't know that. She knows it was a club, she knows it was this club, but your anniversary was always an overnight babysitter visit while you and your danced, and then a cheap motel where you and your wife paid for replacement sheets on checkout.

Your daughter starts to bob along to the beat beside you, hips already moving more than the other nearly sober people in the venue. You have to wonder how many times she's been here before. She invited you out because you'd been looking down for a few days, or maybe a few weeks. The anniversary feels different every year. Sometimes rueful, mad that Angelica left, sometimes regretful, that you let your daughter grow up without her other parent, sometimes depressed that she never tried to reach out and contact you or Chanté again. This year it was mourning - you still miss her, even with the anger and spite that play tug-of-war with your heart.

The music started industrial, and as it drifts into hip hop your daughter switches the elbow she's leaning on to catch your eye and twitch her head to indicate a solitary dancer already enthralled by the music. She's got your dark hair and your flat shoes, and you can see someone in her that you used to see in the mirror a long time ago. There was a little reflection of that old self in the mirror earlier when you checked your makeup for the last time and adjusted your bra straps to be a little tighter, for better support when dancing.

You smile and make a little gesture with your shoulder. You doubt your daughter would try to get with someone that reminds her of her mom, and you doubt you could wing-woman for her even if you tried, but maybe she'd like dancing with her. You'll probably dance too, eventually. It's what you came here for, not the nostalgia that keeps making every flash of the lights feel like a flicker from the past.

Chanté smiles and bobs along with the music, apparently unconcerned. The first round of drinks ends and you turn to ask for another. The music is loud and you have to ask for a double four times before the bartender nods and turns away. You gesture wordlessly to your daughter to place her order as well, and after conferring with the topless man behind the bar she leans up to your ear to tell you that he needs to check your ID again.

Tedious, but you already had your wallet out to pay, so you pull out the plastic card to flash at him. He gives you a dismissive smile and waves you off. You shrug and turn to the card reader, and-

She paid again. A coy little smile dances across her face, and she playfully takes a sip of your drink before she hands it over. It twinkles in your head again, the symmetry.

You take the lead this time, heading over to an empty corner of the floor, and you start to move your hips, mostly glancing at the stage the paid dancers will climb onto once the night really starts to get going. The drink in your hand abates any emphatic movement, so you're left with a few songs to ruminate again.

Your daughter has the same eyes. Her mother only saw a year of them, and she was gone before they shifted from blue to green. It was a fight, because your daughter deserved for you to put up a fight. Son back then, and it was why your wife left. Her ex-girlfriend moved back from Canada, and she had a newborn daughter with her. It took a year for you and Angelica to concieve, and she was the one who really wanted to not know the baby's sex before their birth, ready for anything.

She wasn't though. Something changed when the doctor announced it. You didn't see it in her eyes right away, but you caught her staring out the window more often, found her more hesitant to participate in parenting than she should have been. The ex came back, they caught up in a coffee shop once, and then things changed for Angelica. She was more affectionate with her son, and everything seemed right, until she dropped a 'she'. Something washed through your soul when you heard it. There was one minute, one brief period of ambiguity, and then she admitted it. 'Maybe she'll be trans, like me!'

That was the first part of the fight. You couldn't accept her raising her child as though he were a trans girl before his first birthday. No matter how much you tried to make her see that statistics said that the odds were better that he'd be cis, and that raising him as trans could be bad for him, she insisted. Wouldn't take gender neutral parenting either, and it broke your heart.

You tried to hold the glue between you together as long as you could, but she dissolved it the night she came home and told you she was leaving to be with her ex. You didn't even have to ask. It was because she always wanted a daughter, and she'd rather parent a step-daughter than her own son.

Your eyes drift to your daughter again in this dark room, and she's like a mirror of her mother. Taller, lucky enough to get HRT early in mid-adolescence instead of in her early adulthood, but those round cheeks, happy eyebrows, imperfect teeth, racy clothing choices. Confident from a life spent well supported and loved. Your drink is done, you point to hers, and she hands it over.

The crowd has grown alongside your buzz, and seemingly Chanté's has as well. Her movements are more emphatic, she's turning and stepping further, a little smile is curving her lips. A pop remix on the speakers, adding reverb to some lyrics and dropping out others, just enough to make you wish it were your daughter's voice on the track instead, giving her a chance to make her love for the song heard somewhere outside the echoey shower you share at home.

Maybe she is actually singing to it a few feet in front of you, or maybe you're just hearing what you want to. Someone called you a cougar the last time you came here, and though it felt unfair, she wasn't wrong. You can't help being attracted to youth, the energy, the spark, the candor. It never changed as you hit middle age, and you like to think you can still get away with the short shorts and low cut shirt you dusted out of hiding tonight.

Your daughter is certainly pulling off her miniskirt, and you can't help but let your eyes linger on her legs, for too long. You blink away. Another drink maybe.

The first has settled in, the second was good company, and the bite of the third washes away the stress from two weeks of nonstop work. Chanté seems to be enjoying dancing on her own, so you lean on the bar and close your eyes to let the trance music spin your feelings around in time with the colors pulsing just outside your eyelids. It could have been two songs or two years before a hand touches yours. Soft and tender, not demanding. It's her again, a smile on her face and body language clearly inviting you to join her again.

You can feel the alcohol in your steps as you follow her through the crowd, your hand held resolutely in hers, unshakeable even through the bumping bodies. She grins at you as she turns around, and she was right. Right to bring you here, for you to come here with her. To join someone as happy as her, happy to be herself and to share her company with someone that she loves. She starts to move with that smile, carrying it in each of her movements and through every song, fully present, letting everything outside of this room fall away.

You follow her into it, letting the drinks and the movement of the crowd take you deeper alongside her. You have more energy for this than you've had for most of your life over the last few years, and though you know it'll be a tired morning, it's a night for life and living and being. Blue light flashes, and it catches your daughter in a perfect freeze-frame with a joyous grin, eyes closed, nowhere else but the present, right here, right now, with you.

Just like her mother was, right here, in this very club. Same blonde hair, same rhythm, same hands above her shoulders in violation of the tenets of dancing you'd been told decades ago. Too much joy in her to hide, to obscure behind social convention, to shy away from out of social pressure.

You thought about calling Angelica when your daughter came out as trans. She'd been right, in the end. Maybe she'd visit, try to be in Chanté's life again. But she didn't earn that. You raised her, you supported her, you were on top of her new pronouns within days, and she asked you to help her find a name. You recalled stories of how your ex-wife found her name, and suggested that your daughter look for a character that felt like her 'trans awakening'. She picked an alternate spelling of a video game character she'd liked since she was a kid.

She always knew her mother was trans, and maybe that was why she transitioned herself. She never asked you to contact her mom after she came out, and she never asked for contact info herself. Maybe she always considered herself yours alone too.

Her eyes open and a glint from the disco ball catches her green irises, flecked red by the glitter on the ornament spinning above you. The DJ makes a smooth transition from one trance song to the next, and the crowd pulses around you, pushing you closer to your daughter. The drinks have kicked in and her energy is infectious; your arms are moving as much as hers, hips swaying and feet tapping, losing yourself in the moment with her like you've always been able to do in this place.

A few beats of darkness and your eyes open again, and she's so close, eyes on yours, energy matching, just the right distance to put your hands on her-

She reaches up and wraps her arms around your neck. You match her timing on the beat unconsciously, and she takes a half step forward that invites your hands onto her waist. So chaste a place compared to everyone else in this club, right now and in years past, yourself included. There's no time to be self conscious, because her eyes are hot and unwavering, and she's mouthing along to the lyrics of a song that was contemporary when you first danced here. The glitter in her lip gloss is bright in your peripheral vision, a shining beacon you're too entranced by green irises to see.

As the moments pulse past, you're drawn further and further into the moment, and it all feels perfect again, you belong in this building, in this night, in this life. A shiver runs through you as the time stops and it's just you in the moment, dancing with a gorgeous woman who wants to be close, even closer to you as your hands drift down to her hips and you can feel her plush curves. Your exerted breaths get hotter and she steps closer, swaying with you, touching her chest and hips against you, so close you could kiss.

You can feel that desire within you now, and it dawns on a soul watered by drinks and years of knowing this girl for who she is and everything she wants to be. Maybe some of it is the possessiveness of hiding her away from someone thousands of miles north pulling you too close into your daughter's embrace. Maybe some of it is the fact that your daughter just happens to be exactly your type. Maybe some of it is loneliness, maybe some of it is lust, but it doesn't feel like that, you know her too intimately to see her as some one-night. After decades of being the one to show initiative with younger women, you feel all the pressures of desire withheld by an invisible net across your lips, forbidding you from leaning closer and touching your lips under the strobing lights like you're drawn to.

You have to wonder what Chanté is thinking, why she came here with you. She loves you, of course, she wants to see you happy, but she could have gotten you drinks and found you a nice corner and a dance partner, then looked for one of her own. She could have danced side by side with you or kept in front of each other a few feet away, like earlier. A mother and daughter sharing an activity, not making much eye contact, just being mindful of each other's movements to not step on toes.

But she's all the way on you, those smoky eyes tracing over you every moment that passes. You've never known the difference between attraction and love, not properly, and right in this moment, there's something made of desperation inside of you, begging an unspeaking reality to let you understand, to be able to see what she's feeling properly and not misread it, to know why she's choosing to be so intimate with you every beat that goes by, why she's staring at your lips now, why she-

Kisses you.

Years of practice and symmetry with past moments here over the years keep you moving in time with the music, but suddenly everyone else in the club has disappeared into blackness, all that's left is the beat and her soft body under your hands. Her arms wrapped around your neck, the strands threaded between your eyes and hers as she pulls back but stays close, paying attention to see how you're responding, if it was unwanted, if she just crossed a line, but to you right now, you're just two women on a foggy dance floor sharing attraction and unignorable physical chemistry.

You don't flash a yes in your eyes, you don't wait for her to try again, you definitely don't pause enough to let her pull back and think she's made a mistake. You move into your role in this and lean forward in the scant space to kiss her again. It feels just like kissing her mother, only now the sheath of vulnerability you were wrapped in when Angelica left you is a shelter, a tight copse for you to share with someone that you're sure will never leave you, not like she did.

Chanté's next kiss is greedy, but the one after she holds, hips bouncing, eyes closed, savoring the touch and losing herself in it just like you do. You can feel the love in her body and soul and how she's caring for and offering it to you when she knows you need it. You'll never know if she planned this the whole time, if it was an impulsive mistake, if it was the alcohol or the confident woman that she is that made this happen.

You release your lips first, and the club is back, the throng of people moving around you, the lights and sensations and smells, the alcohol buzz in your body and mind and under the aroused blush on your cheeks. You want to tell her that you love her.

You do, even though saying you love someone after your first few kisses is too soon. You mouth it for her to see, you say it with meaning, knowing that it's not coming from the correct place for a moment like this, that even though it's made from her beauty and life and your need and want, that its core is coming from your love for her as a mother loves a daughter. One that loved the person she was before she transitioned, that watched her grow and find herself in your care. She's found you now, and she pulls even tighter to you, foreheads together, her nose clumsily bumping into the bridge of your glasses on the offbeat.

She didn't say it back, maybe she missed it in the overwhelming music, maybe she didn't understand what you mouthed, but you can feel it in her all the same, the way her body moves with yours perfectly, in sync and in love, no matter whatever kind of love she holds for you or what it might grow to be beyond this moment.

You know you want it to grow into something new. You don't want to replace your ex with her daughter, but dear god she'd be an exquisite fit, completely your type and completely yours and you could be completely hers if that's what she wants. Entwined in your shared sensation of abandonment, but maybe she can show you the way out of that with her bright attitude and pure heart. A path for you two to walk and dance down together, in the club and out of the club, in your home and in your bed. Hers, yours, both, neither, the couch, the kitchen, the car, wherever and whenever you feel it for each other, and you know you'll feel it everywhere.

There's a part of you trying to calculate, to be responsible, to be a parent, to do your best to figure out the situation and see if there's anything you need to do right now to make things turn out right for her after this night, but instead you wrap your arms all the way around your daughter's waist and hold her to you, selfish in your need to feel this moment and let it cleanse all the years of loneliness.

After an eternity of moments far too short yet eternal in their expanse, the overhead lights kick on. Two hours danced by with soft, passionate kisses and warm, knowing smiles, and now this night is over, ready to shuffle on into the next, a new night, totally different than the one it was when you walked in the door. Still hours from the sunrise, there's an uncertain dawn in your heart that rises with the brightness of the room, and you selfishly hold your daughter to you, still now, foreheads still together, afraid to pull away and see her eyes, to let her see yours, to see how much you need this and what it'll pull out of your heart if she rejects you.

Strangers all around you, sweaty and tired and slow to obey the directions to leave. Witnesses to a moment technically incestuous, but pure of heart and love. Her arms retract slowly, and cold creeps in in their absence, the sensation an unwanted phantom in a stuffy room, but real to you all the same. You can't look at her, you won't pull back. She tries to pull away a few millimeters and you wordlessly push forward.

You feel fingers on your cheeks, gentle and considerate, ready to reject you with the sweetest words from the sweetest lips and the sweetest heart. She guides your head away from her and you give a long blink. You have to face her eventually though. She started this, but you're the one responsible for it, for accepting and needing it more than she knew. You're going to open your eyes and be her mother again, too close with your hands where they don't belong, savoring a body that isn't yours to touch.

"I love you Camille."

You open your eyes, and her tears match yours. Just on the verge of falling, but ready to be caught by each other.

She didn't say 'mom' like you would have subconsciously expected. She loves you, Camille, the woman she brought here and kissed and shared this night with.

You need her to kiss you again, right now, to seal whatever this is between you, to bind the two of you together forever as something new. It's not your place to push it on her, to offer it gently, or to ask for it. You need her to kiss you because she wants to, because she wants you and she means it.

You can feel from the way she presses her lips to yours again, cradling your face in her palms, that she needed to kiss you too, that this moment was everything to her too.

You'll live together in this memory forever. In your lips, in your hearts.

No matter what comes next.

[willowsnpillows]

Since we're all doing this, 23?

23. I’m gonna be real this is a boring-ass answer but I don’t think I have

[willowsnpillows]

I have been informed this is incorrect by my partner, there was one time he was biting, scratching, and squeezing my tits and I came from the pain, so uh yea, more for y’all to know, ya pervs <3

[willowsnpillows]

Since we're all doing this, 23?

23. I’m gonna be real this is a boring-ass answer but I don’t think I have

[willowsnpillows]

50

50. Oh god this one is actually kinda hard, I guess I’ve got a cute dorky face, my tits are absolutely fucking divine, I’ve got cute hips, my cock is adorable, I’ve got hella nice thighs, my hair is pretty, and I’ve got an an overall pretty adorable frame.

[willowsnpillows]

Number 7 for the asks?

7. My three nsfw wishes would likely be firstly for more people to be chill with nudity, secondly the ability to shapeshift so I can swap between a pussy/cock whenevs (and live out monsterfucking fantasies), and finally just to have the chance to fuck all my friends at the same time at least once

[willowsnpillows]

39?

39. Probs oral (at least on cocks, don’t have as much experience w/pussy) I really like to slowly work my way down or up, with a lot of use out of my tongue, obviously it varies from person to person, but I know for myself the underside of my glans is hella sensitive, so I like to focus around there. Basically just a lot of teasing and licking, at least until my partner decides to just facefuck me :3

(Tho I have heard from a few girls that penetrating me feels pretty fucking good)

[willowsnpillows]

17 and 20 for the ask game?

17. Compliments on my waist, tits, or tongue are huge for me, if I had to choose one it’d probs be my tits tho.

20. Teasing, some of my closest friends and partner all have permission to bully me a little because it drives me crazy

[peachykinky-deactivated20240712]

Detailed NSFW asks!

What is your most tame kink, and why do you like it?

What is your most extreme kink, and why do you like it?

What kink are you the most embarrassed by, and why?

What kinks have you tried with other people? Did you both enjoy it?

Have you got any kinks you haven't tried yet but really want to? If so, what are they?

Did you enjoy your first sexual experience? Why or why not?

A genie has granted you 3 nsfw wishes, what are you wishing for and why?

You now have a superpower of your choice, with the condition that it must be only used sexually. What power do you have and how are you using it?

You can only perform 1 sex act for the next month, what would you pick? Why? Would that change if it was a year?

You can only receive 1 sex act for the next month, what would you pick? Why? Would that change if it was a year?

What is your favourite sex toy? How do you normally use it?

What is your go-to fantasy? Why do you think you enjoy it so much?

Do you have a favourite sexual memory? If so, what is it?

Do you have an outfit that makes you feel sexy? If so, describe it.

Would you ever make porn of yourself? Why or why not?

What type of porn do you usually prefer (pics, videos, audio, etc), and why do you prefer it?

What is your favourite nsfw compliment to receive?

What is your favourite nsfw compliment to give?

What is the funniest sexual thing that has happened to you or someone you know?

Is there anything completely non-sexual that always turns you on?

What was the best orgasm you've had recently? Why was it so good?

Do you have something sexual that you are really proud of? What is it?

Have you ever had an orgasm without meaning to? Describe what happened.

What is your perviest confession?

What is the most unusual place you have had an orgasm? What led to it?

What was the most recent not porn thing that made you horny?

Have you ever masturbated to something that was not porn? If so, what was it?

Do you have different tastes in sexual vs romantic partners? if so, what is different?

Have you ever had an inappropriate crush? What made it inappropriate?

What is your definition of having sex?

Have you ever been naked around other people in a non sexual situation? Would you do it again, and did you enjoy it sexually?

Have you ever had an orgasm in your sleep?

Describe your ideal romantic evening.

Describe your ideal sexual evening.

Describe your ideal sexual partners body.

Describe the ideal nude that someone could send you.

Describe your favourite sexual position.

Are you satisfied with your sex life? What would you change?

What sex act do you think you are best at? Describe how you do it.

Describe how you usually masturbate.

What nearby object, that is not a sex toy, would you use to masturbate with? How would you use it?

Describe your most recent sex dream.

Describe your ideal genitalia. Is it the same for your ideal partner? If not describe theirs too.

Describe your orgasms.

Describe your favourite sexual position.

Describe the most recent time you had sex.

Where on your body do you enjoy being stimulated, that is not typically used for sexual stimulation? Have you ever had an orgasm from it?

Describe your favourite nsfw body part that you have. Why is it your favourite?

What is you favourite nsfw body part on other people? Why?

Describe your body as positively as you can.

[willowsnpillows]

Hiyaaaa!!!!

If you're still doing nsfw asks, 13, 14, and 37?

Heya yea sure! It’s pretty fun so I’ll keep doing it long as ppl keep asking!

13. My favorite sexual memory would probably be how I ended up with my nesting partner, not sure how much I’m allowed to share so I’ll just say that night was not intended to turn into sex at all, could have been a threesome but was not, and having been crushing on him I was awkward as fuck, and it was wonderful.

14. Okay there’s two options for this one so I’m gonna cheat a little, one is literally just a too-large tanktop paired with ripped jeans, I fucking adore that outfit and wear it as often as I can. The second is this long-sleeve mesh crop top that shows off my tits like crazy, I tend to pair it with one of my smaller skirts and knee highs.

37. Giving someone head on my knees. No notes, it’s the best.

[evilgirlmechanicock]

Some friends and I decided to have a fun little writing jam, and we started

THE FIRST GREAT SISCON-OFF

Linked above is the collection of 6 anonymous stories written by myself, @maolong, @kitsunedollie, @sweetestsixshooter, xX_sister_bliss_Xx, and one anonymous author! The theme is CORRUPTION. We're going for glory, so after you've read all six (one author opted out of the voting), you can vote on your absolute favorite below! Enjoy six new siscon stories from a variety of really lovely and crazy talented authors :)

Which is your favorite?

Golden Rule

Blood Ties

Faith is NOT a Siscon

Kitsune's Cunning Stunt

A Special Kind of Safety

Remaining time: 3 days 10 hours

(One of these can only be read with an account, so make sure you're logged in if you want to see all of them. Also, we'll definitely be doing this again in the future, this was just a fun little friend server jam ^^)

The authors will be revealed in ONE WEEK after voting is done, so enjoy these anonymous fics until then!

[sweetestsixshooter]

I participated in this fun little writing jam with some other amazing and talented writers! Check these stories out, and pick your favorite!

[willowsnpillows]

Changing of Seasons - Index

Chapter 1 - Autumn

Chapter 2 - Carotene

Chapter 3 - Rainfall

Chapter 4 - Downpour

Chapter 5 - Frost

Chapter 6 - Snowdrift

Orange/Autumn - An overly pessimistic depressed trans girl, lost most of her friends and support networks and now is a jaded if messy woman. Drinking and impulsiveness are a constant. She accepted a life of jumping from bar hookup to bar hookup while working her dead-end job. Desperate to find someone to drag her out of the depths.

Green/Ivy - Your sister, recently booted out of the house when she came out as trans, not knowing that this all happened once before with you. Skittish, traumatized, desperate attachment issues, all mixed together with trying to seem more mature than she is. She’s a sweet girl, but doesn’t know her place in the world.

Blue/Kate - Your boss, cis woman, really likes birds, anime, drawing, camping, backpacking, and really shitty romcoms. You honestly don’t know much about her but she’s been a caring person in your life for ages now. She seems to have a bit more care than you would for a coworker but you’re too oblivious to notice.

Edit: awlso forgot, wanted to say I was heavily inspired by the amazing works of @sisconvention @sweetestsixshooter and @gentlelovingsiscon go check ‘em out if you like this ^-^

[willowsnpillows]

Finally wrote chapter six, I lowkey hit writers block like crazy, but hey, next chapter will have actual smut! Hope y’all enjoy :)

[willowsnpillows]

Changing of Seasons Ch. 6 - Snowdrift

You stayed the night at your boss’ place. Deep down you really appreciate her. She also… pet your head, and called you hella petnames. You’re not sure what it means, but, the both of you have a long workday ahead, her especially. And, you need to get your uniform and laptop from yours first, which means yet again confronting Ivy.

You drift in and out of sleep the whole night. You don’t even end up using Kate’s tv, just kinda stare at the ceiling. You stir once or twice to the unfamiliar noise of her part of town, knock back out and repeat the process.

Around probably three in the morning you start to finally doze off. Your shift starts at noon and you hope Kate won’t mind you sleeping in. You had a long night after all.

Your sleep is dreamless.

You stir to the sound of footsteps. Your mind reaches for context but can’t quite seem to grasp it. Your first thought is Ivy. You find yourself disappointed as you open your eyes. You’re not in your apartment and you’re not with Ivy. Last night wasn’t a nightmare after all. Kate’s house is still draped in darkness, her kitchen appliances granting only the smallest bit of illumination. Kate is veeery slowly and deliberately opening the fridge. She probably didn’t mean to wake you.

You call out a half-yawned

Whatime issit?

She squeeks out a tiny startled noise, nearly jumping out of her skin. She then takes what you consider to be an overly dramatic sharp inhale.

Oh Autumn! You scared the crap out of me, sweetheart.

It’s four thirty, I’ve gotta finish getting ready for my shift. I’m sorry I woke you. You sleep okay at least? I know my couch isn’t the coziest place in the world.

You sigh, you really didn’t.

Nope.

Her shoulders droop.

I’m sorry honey, I knew that couch is, pardon my french, shitty.

It’s- it’s not the couch, like yeah, you need a new one, but, nah, just too much on my mind.

You still wanna talk about it later? It was about your sister right?

You’d have to admit to your incestuous kiss to paint a full picture. Not the least to mention that you’re so fucking garbage at lying. Guilt and shame always work hand-in-hand to shove the words out of your chest.

Yeah it is. And I- I dunno. I’ve got a lot to work through. I gotta talk with her today to get my uniform and my laptop, and my jacket. She kinda… hates me right now. It’s not gonna be easy.

She grants you a gentle smile. The way her nose crinkles and her smile lines start to show my prominently is just so… cute.

Well… you’ll get through it okay? You’re a strong girl. And I believe in you ‘kay?

She walks over and ruffles your hair.

H-hey, stop that!

She giggles and flashes you a mischievous little grin.

Sorry! Sorry. Always wanted to do that. Your hair is just so gosh dang soft. And your curls are downright enviable.

Really? It’s embarrassing, but you stopped taking care of your hair as much in recent years. It’s simply been too much effort. Dollar store shampoo and washing every 3-4 days is about all you’ve done for ages.

I- thank you.

She wanders to the connected kitchen and taps her foot as she impatiently waits for the coffee machine.

How do you still drink that stuff?

She keeps herself laser focused on the slowly churning machine.

C’mon I gotta go sooon. Hm? Oh yeah, it’s good I dunno. Do I need another reason? Why did you stop?

Because we get a free drink every shift, and I’m the only employee there other’n you more than half the time. Of course I’d start to hate it.

She looks genuinely awestruck. Out of all of the times she has caught you sobbing in the break room, nearly fighting customers, and heard about you breaking down about some new hookup that went sour this is what catches her off guard?

But, how else do you get your caffeine in? I need mine to function.

You shrug half-heartedly under your blanket cocoon.

Energy drinks exist. So does caffeinated tea.

She chuckles.

Fair enough.

She goes about her morning routine, packing herself a lunchbox, sipping her coffee, and jumping from little task to little task. You just quietly observe her from your spot on the couch. It’s kinda nice seeing this sorta thing. It’s a peek behind the curtain, the parts a person doesn’t always show on bare display. And it certainly makes her seem less infallible than what you pictured. She keeps getting distracted with her phone, and random little spots of cleaning, it’s nice to know she’s just another woman same as you. Makes the idea of being her friend way less terrifying.

She almost vaults herself out the door before remembering your presence in her home.

Feel free to take a nap if you’ve gotta okay sweetheart? Don’t want you coming to work with no energy. The house is all yours, well, mostly, my room’s off limits right now but help yourself to anything you need okay?

You give her a timid little nod, right as you’re about to lay back down on the couch and get some shut-eye, she rushes over and squeezes you in a massive hug, she rubs her thumb along your back and holds you tight. It feels like the second sip of hot cocoa, warm, comforting, but no longer painful.

I’ve seen you in some bad places, it seems like this one hit you harder than usual. I’m here if you need me okay?

Your whole body flushes, sex is nothing usually, it’s not a big deal, and admittedly for you it comes easily, but touch like this? This breaks you so gently.

Mhmm.

She ruffles your hair, and rushes out the door without another goodbye.

You double-check that you actually set an alarm for ten so that you can grab your shit from yours and hopefully get to work on time.

You find yourself drifting back to sleep gracefully quick.

You dream of Ivy grabbing your hips, of her biting your lip, of her finding her way to the hem of your pants and slipping underneath. You dream of her gently rubbing your clit while you moan out her name into her shoulder. And you dream of cuddling up next to her.

You make an exasperated groan of dismay as your alarm wakes you.

Fucking hell brain, that was cruel.

You sigh, audibly talking to yourself.

Well, now you just have to confront her alongside that new image in your mind, no biggie. You don’t even have her number to let her know you’re coming over and that you need your shit. Will she even be there? You can work a shift without your laptop but you need your uniform.

This sucks. This really sucks. Hopefully you can just get it, get out, maybe ask for some form of contact, and go to work.

The drive back to yours is fraught with creeping anxiety. You just can’t quite seem to swallow your fear around seeing Ivy. You still need to fix everything but there just isn’t enough time, you have no words to say other than just “sorry.”

You creep up to your usual parking spot in a desperate attempt to put this off. One of your main defining traits seems to continually be avoidance. Another reason to hate yourself to chuck in the ever growing pile, oh well.

You put on the bravest face you can, wander over to your door and knock.

The silence that follows upticks your anxiety by quite a bit, you need your uniform to work and you need to work this shift. Well, you don’t, you don’t have a replacement, however, you’d feel like a dick leaving Kate high and dry especially since you’re most likely going to be asking to crash at hers again.

After a few minutes of stabbing nervous thoughts Ivy opens the door.

Why are you here, Autumn?

She shows you little emotion, her chest is puffed out, and she keeps scanning every inch of your body. You need to do everything in your power not to take your usual path of mulched earth where you fuck every little thing up.

I… need my stuff for work. Uniform y’know?

She gazes daggers into you.

Ugh. I knew this would happen. Why didn’t you grab your stuff last night?

You breathe in slowly, and exhale.

I didn’t want to make all of it worse than I already had. And… for what it’s worth I’m sorry Ivy. I hate myself for this. I was so fucking stupid.

She steps aside from the door, giving you an unobstructed view of your newly cleaned apartment. She not so gently nudges you inside.

I don’t know if sorry is gonna cut it… I need more time to think. Please get your things and go. Pack for a few days at least, please.

That stupid little flame that eternally burns inside you is begging you to pick a fight. If being meek won’t work, maybe pushing back will.

Oh come on. Ivy. This is bullshit. I said sorry, I let you stay in my goddamn apartment and that still isn’t enough?

Don’t. Autumn. Don’t.

Or what? Genuinely how do I even earn your favor at this point? I was trying. I was trying to make sure our relationship wasn’t gone forever. I didn’t realize that you turned out like this.

Red hot frustration and anger pour down Ivy’s cheeks. You have not heard her raise her voice but she screams.

I don’t want to fucking lose you again!

She chokes up a sob.

Do you think I genuinely wanted this? You did this Autumn, you did. Not me. My entire world crumbled under me do you think I really wanted to watch it happen again?

Ivy helplessly throws a fist against your apartment wall.

Do you know what will happen if anyone finds out? It doesn’t matter that I didn’t know, you did. I barely have anything and if anyone learns about what happened between us I will lose everything. You will lose everything. Why didn’t you just think, Autumn?!

She grabs you by your shirt collar, making you flinch more than you meant to.

So please.

Please.

Give me some space so I can figure this out.

She turns around, walking towards your bathroom.

Get your shit and go. Now.

You feel your heart ripped in twain. Fuck you’re a monster.

I- okay.

You halfheartedly grab your clothes, some essentials, your favorite bat plush Marty, all whilst Ivy hides in your bathroom. You scramble to find a sticky note and a pen.

“I’m sorry Ivy. I screwed up again. I want to make things better between us, I want to keep the sister I didn’t even know I had around. I’m sorry.”

You scribble down Kate’s address just in case she wants to reach out, but you’re not sure there’s any coming back from this.

You know Ivy, she will sit on something that hurt her for days and just when you think you and her are better, everything she bottled pops and little can be done to mend the wound.

You used to take her to nature trails when you were both teens. You hated leaving your room but it was worth it to see that smile. It became routine. Every Friday you would drive out to somewhere pretty just her and you. That went on for two years. The second year however, you got a stupid idea. You thought it would be funny to ditch her and come back 10 minutes later to scare the shit out of her. She didn’t talk to you for a week after. The both of you never went on those hikes again.

You leave the note on your nightstand, hoping she’ll see. Your shift is going to be hell.

[willowsnpillows]

Changing of Seasons - Index

Chapter 1 - Autumn

Chapter 2 - Carotene

Chapter 3 - Rainfall

Chapter 4 - Downpour

Chapter 5 - Frost

Chapter 6 - Snowdrift

Orange/Autumn - An overly pessimistic depressed trans girl, lost most of her friends and support networks and now is a jaded if messy woman. Drinking and impulsiveness are a constant. She accepted a life of jumping from bar hookup to bar hookup while working her dead-end job. Desperate to find someone to drag her out of the depths.

Green/Ivy - Your sister, recently booted out of the house when she came out as trans, not knowing that this all happened once before with you. Skittish, traumatized, desperate attachment issues, all mixed together with trying to seem more mature than she is. She’s a sweet girl, but doesn’t know her place in the world.

Blue/Kate - Your boss, cis woman, really likes birds, anime, drawing, camping, backpacking, and really shitty romcoms. You honestly don’t know much about her but she’s been a caring person in your life for ages now. She seems to have a bit more care than you would for a coworker but you’re too oblivious to notice.

Edit: awlso forgot, wanted to say I was heavily inspired by the amazing works of @sisconvention @sweetestsixshooter and @gentlelovingsiscon go check ‘em out if you like this ^-^

[willowsnpillows]

Finally wrote chapter six, I lowkey hit writers block like crazy, but hey, next chapter will have actual smut! Hope y’all enjoy :)