moonylvs

[moonylvs]

reblog if people r allowed to send u asks as if theyre ur friend. wanna tell me how ur day went? do it!!! ask me for advice? sure! ask a personal question? go right on ahead!

[moonylvs]

ellie williams x loser!reader part 2 nsfw mdni

part 1 here

content : you went to tutor her but fucking hell she's high and hot and you both are alone in a room. (cw : 🍃 used, reader is an awkward sub, profanities, pound town in ✂️ city lesgo, she does the knee thing yep, horny wlw, reader is a virgin you really think her ass got laid before ????)

tags babies : @rbnvrnxoxo @velvetinkbym @hyperbabes @ur-sick-and-married @wtvm0m0 @evieutft @ferxanda @deafeninggalaxycheesecake @machetegirl109 @chuutu @livvietalks @eriiwaiii2 @usuck @m4c113 @eddiesdrummergf

You made your way towards Ellie's house. Even though you asked Ellie for her address at the cafeteria, you already knew the route of her house . It was purely accidental, you had to go to your aunt's house after school and you noticed the stoner group walking the same path. You kept your distance and got to know that Ellie lived only a block away from your aunt. So if anything happened that you didn't like, you could just go to your aunt's. Ellie didn't specify any timing so you assumed 6pm would be a good enough time, not too soon and not too late. As you got closer to the front door of her house, you heard laughs of multiple people.

Huh...

You knocked on the door and waited. And waited. And wai- what the fuck. You knocked on the door again. And again. And then finally the door opened and gosh that was one strong smell. Ellie looked at you confused with her bloodshot eyes, was she high? You scratched the back of your neck while trying to come up with words. You didn't know about weed but she definitely was looking smoking hot. She had a grey wife pleaser on which showed off her lean muscles with some loose pants. You put in some effort into how you dressed up coming to her house, with a white full sleeved shirt underneath a baggy tshirt and some baggy pants. You were trying to redeem yourself from the fit you wore to school that day.

"I didn't know you smoked pot. You're kinda late for the session."

Don't say...

"I'm here for the tutoring session? You didn't specify any time." It was literally only few hours ago, how the fuck did she forget that?

She narrowed her eyes, as if trying to remember and then- "Oh...right." there it was. She looked behind her when someone called her name. "Ellie, who is it?", Jesse screamed. Ellie opened the door wider for you and you stepped in, standing awkwardly infront the living room where Dina and the others sat with a bong and joints laid out on the table.

"Anime porn girl wanna get baked?"

"Guys continue with your shit, we'll be back down in an hour. I need to pass history." Ellie announced as she grabbed your wrist and dragged you upstairs. She was struggling to walk properly, she tripped a couple of times thanks to her very heightened coordination skills.

She locked the door behind her when you both got into the room. You looked around her room that had a lot of personality, her sketches pinned all over the walls, some band posters— was that Green Day?, and there in the corner of the room laid a guitar. Ellie looked at you observing her room and chuckled, "Already impressed by me? Trust me I don't suck all that much."

Suck something else- focus.

You sat down on her table that anything but books, and rubbed your hands against your pants. Ellie plopped down next to you and stared at you. No, she stared towards you.

"A-are you sure you can study right now...? I can come again any other time you know?" You nervously asked, that girl was most likely in a different planet. History was a subject boring to many, you were sure Ellie was a part of that bunch. So when Ellie quirked a brow up, you were second guessing yourself.

"You are doubting my ability?" She asked leaning forward and placing her elbows on the table. "Think I'm too stoned to figure out ancient civilization-" , she inched in closer, "Or to notice how you've been biting your lips everytime you looked at me-"

Fuck you didn't notice that.

"-or how you're rubbing your thighs against each other right now?"

Wasn't she an observant bastard.

You were literally shaking. From embarrassment or from being turned the fuck on? One could only guess. She picked up her hand and brought it to your cheeks, cupping it with her thumb caressing the apple of your cheek and you audibly gasped.

She's touching you she's touching you oh my goodness-

"You're trembling like a leaf sweet thing, someone might assume you're the high one here. Did you get high before coming here mhm?" She titled her head while asking.

"N-no."

"You don't need drugs to get high you know? There's other ways of getting high."

What...

"But you must be familiar with it already."

You looked at her dumbfounded while she simply let out a chuckle. She got up, went towards her bag across the room and pulled out a boo- wait a minute.

Your face felt like it was on fire when you saw the cover of the book Ellie was flipping through. You immediately turned your head away from her, how did she get hold of it? She placed the book on the table with a thud, grabbed your chin with her long fingers and brought your face near to hers.

"You're one nasty girl huh?"

"E-ellie-"

She was leaving behind kisses all over your neck, with your shirts thrown to the ground.

Hoky fuck shit hell fuck shit shit oh-

Ellie was a beast, those kisses are surely gonna leave behind marks. While she was making sure she sucked the skin out off you, her knees were dangerously close to your very bothered area. It took everything in you to just not rub yourself against her thighs. You were so flushed that you couldn't even look at her in the eyes.

Ellie noticed how you were holding yourself back, not wanting to embarrass yourself more than you did. She could see it in your face what you wanted and she wanted to let you know that she wanted it too. So she gave it to you.

She pressed her knees against your hot core and that was it for you.

You let out a pathetically loud moans that you tried to cut off by putting your hands on your mouth, shit you hoped the people downstairs didn't hear it.

The brown haired girl that had her hands roaming all over your body? She had never been so turned on before.

"Fuck baby, you're hot."

You weren't sure how Ellie had so much stamina while being high a kite in the sky but goodness she was making sure you were up there with her when she grinded her crotch over yours.

"That feels good right? Never had a girl over you ever huh? Ever seen this in those- fuck- p-porno comics you read?" She said as her clit brushed against yours.

You could only nod mindlessly when Ellie's hands were on your hips and groped your tits. The friction was intoxicating, and you were pussy drunk. Each hip roll had you gripping her bedsheets and biting your lips so that you didn't let out a moan like earlier. Ellie brought her lips next to your ears and said, "Let it out sweet thing, I wanna hear it."

...they already have a terrible impression of you, might as well go all the way.

You were a loud, whining mess and she loved every second of it. You were so close to tears because you never experienced the real deal before. You have seen plenty on your incognito tab and your fingers have been your best friend, but to experience it in real life? Heaven, you were in heaven.

Your slick was all over your and her thighs and the bedsheets were drenched, but Ellie did not let that hold her back. You were panting, gasping and crying while she kept going on, kissing your tears that dripped down your face, kissing your neck and your tits. Her mouth all over you while her pulsing clit rutting against yours had you bucking your hips and letting out wanton moans.

"You're near right? Don't hold yourself back, come on."

That was all it took for you to arch your back and let out a loud moan and you were damn sure everyone and their grandma heard it. Ellie followed soon after as her hips twitched against yours. She buried her head in your neck as she panted from hitting her high. Her body was limped on top of yours as you both just took a while to catch your breath.

You did it. You had your first time and it was with Ellie fucking Williams.

"Oh how was your history session?"

Dina asked as the both of you walked into the living room. She had a very fuckass expression on her face which gave it away, they know what happened. Ellie simply grabbed your hand and made you sit between legs as she picked up a joint and lit it up.

"Do you know how loud history is?"

"Oh fuck me-" you were rolling your eyes when Ellie cut you off.

"I did, didn't I?"

... You handed her that opportunity to her on a silver platter.

note : fanart belongs to @nramv, was I mean for making y'all wait for a week for this? I'm sorry but my fuckass phone DELETED this draft so I had to rewrite it again and also my country is on the verge of a war??? idk weird times but have your scissor city dose I hope I did justice 🍒 now stop shouting at me to update 💔 do let me know if you liked it, it would mean a lot to me !

[moonylvs]

could you write something about loser!reader with ellie?

ellie williams x loser!reader mdni

part two here

content : you've been assigned to tutor the popular stoner and oh lord she's hot and you're wet. (cw: zaza🍃mentioned, anime and hentai mentioned, reader is teased a fuck lot but hah she's into that, reader is a freak oh lord, ellie lowkey digging it.)

tags babies : @robiceps @velvetinkbym @hyperbabes @ur-sick-and-married @wtvm0m0 @evieutft @ferxanda

"Ellie Williams right?"

You asked as you stood infront of the table in the cafeteria, hands clammy. Shit you didn't want to be a tutor to anyone in your class, especially not her. But when Mrs Park, who you definitely don't have intense feelings for, asked you to help her or god forbid she'll fail, you had no choice but to say yes. That's how you ended up standing infront the table of the obnoxious stoners of your year.

Everyone at the table stopped what they were doing to stare at you and it made you straighten up your back and shift the weight on your leg. Ellie lazily turned her head towards you and checked you out. You were rocking an old Attack on Titan t-shirt, your mom put all your shirts into the wash except that one, and skinny ripped jeans. The silence stretched on for too long and was broken by the dark haired girl sitting across Ellie.

"Aren't you the tentacle anime porn girl?" Dina asked.

Your head whipped towards her in shock, that can't be what they remembered you by... And that was one time damn it. You didn't realise that you put that hentai manga in your school bag and you tripped. With your habit of never zipping your bag up, all the contents in your bag spilled out and lo behold, the manga was out for everyone to gawk at.

"I'm also the one of the top students, you know..." You mumbled as you unconsciously played with the strap of your bag. You might have unconventional interests but you didn't play when it came to academics. That's the only reason why your mother didn't care about what you read or did during your free time, as long as she didn't get a call from the school about you.

"What do you want?" Ellie, on the other hand, has definitely gotten enough phone calls from the school. She quirked up one of her brows and waited for you to speak. Her shirt was loosely buttoned, allowing you to have a peak at her— is that a tattoo on her chest? hot. Her elbows laid on the back of the chair she was man spreading on. Hot, hot, hot-

Focus.

"Didn't you get an email from Mrs Park?" You asked as you readjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder. Ellie let out a chuckle as she pulled out her cell and leaned on the table. "Who checks email nowadays?" She snickered.

"She probably does that to check whether her porno got updated."

"I-I don't use my email to log into those websites. I'm... not an idiot." You were flustered beyond comprehension, Dina didn't back down when it came to making sure that no one forgot your interesting side. It didn't even help the fact that you had wedgie you were itching to fix. Fuck, it was uncomfortable.

"Look she didn't even deny watching porno."

"We share the same class? And you're gonna help me by tutoring me?" Ellie looked at you displeased as she dropped her phone on the table. The guy sitting next to Dina picked up her phone to double check. The way she looked like you as if you're the unexpected bone to her boneless chicken strip got you licking and biting your lips like an middle schooler. There was something in the way she looked when she was annoyed. It's been 2 years since you've shared classes together and one of those classes was gym and she's hot when she's sweaty. You've noticed the way she always had a half-opened-eye look to her, probably from the weed. You've noticed how she flexes her fingers or rubs them against her palms which never failed to make you imagine you both in unholy positions. Man, you sure do hoped she boned you-

It's hard to focus when your panties are wet. And you still got that damn wedgie.

"Yeah and I need to log in 5 hours per week." You spluttered that out, wanting to leave from her gaze as soon as it was possible. As much as you enjoyed being looked at like you were the scum on the earth, you still had hours of school to deal with later.

"Can't you just fake it or whatever? Surely you don't want to come over to my house all the way from your house just to teach me about Mesopotamia or some shit in your free time?" You were not sure if she said that to tease you or if she was completely oblivious to your very bothered being but regardless, you cleared your throat and said,"I can do that but your grades will not increase on their own."

Ellie stared at you for a very long and awkward amount of time while you were visibly fighting for your life to stand still under her intense gaze. She already had this effect on you with just staring at you, how the hell were you going to teach her history? She finally clicked her tongue and leaned back on the chair.

"Fine, come over to my house after school today or whatever. Don't care 'bout the time."

You scrambled to take out a paper and a pen from your bag and placed it on the table for her to write her number and address on. She looked at you in confusion.

"Jeez don't you have a phone or something?"

"It's broken."

She scribbled down her number and address and without wasting a moment, you snatched the paper out of her hand and dashed out of the cafeteria.

You were so gonna touch yourself in the bathroom. And finally fix the damn wedgie.

"That girl is absolutely smitten with you, dude!" Jesse slapped Ellie's arm as Ellie smirked at you rushing way towards the hall with an unzipped bag. "Smitten? That girl was clenching her thighs everytime Ellie spoke- wait a minute what is that?" Dina pointed at the ground next to their table. Ellie bent down to pick up the book and oh lord.

"She has balls to bring this shit to school." She laughed while tossing the book on the lunch table. Dina picked it up and immediately put it down, "Why the hell is it damp and what the fuck is watersports?"

Ellie was smiling giddily 'cause holy shit you really needed to learn how to zip your bag up.

note : the fanart belongs to @nramv , i wanted this to be one big post but then realised I don't post long fics, so I divided it into two (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) part two is already written and is scheduled to be posted soon so the wait won't be too long and yes part two will contain sexy time. if you want to be tagged for the part two, do let me know ! also please do comment if you like this, it would mean a whole lot to me <3

[moonylvs]

femme that isn't used to being treated with softness x butch that handles her so softly she knows the feeling of comfort by their name. holding her hand even if there's nowhere to be lost in, keeping her close to their chest even when there's not much crowd around to divide them. letting her know that they're around even when they know she's well on her own, suggesting to do things for her more often through time, enamored with the way her eyes soften when she nods a 'yes' and a 'please'. balancing off each other's hearts when they pull in, the need of relying and the adoration of being relied on entangling the tightest bond through time and sweet adjustments.

[moonylvs]

I wrote over 4k words of an Abby fanfic and when I saved it and reopened it to translate, half of the fanfic was GONE, I swear I want to kill myself I don't know what to do, I want to cry rn

[moonylvs]

Ⅵ 𝔎𝔦𝔯𝔞𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔫 𖤐.ᐟ ─── Marine Encounters #002

tldr; You start to notice the orca in pain more frequently, and in an effort to help you buy her a gift. Unbeknownst to you, you've inadvertently convinced Vi that you want to court her.

cw `# orca!vi, killer whale, size difference, injured!vi, water pollution, deep waters, near-drowning, comfort, fluff

── note: good lord this is such a cute request, everybody say thank you anon!

𖤐.ᐟ ─── 𝔄𝔯𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔢 𝔐𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔱 | 𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔞𝔲 𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

It started with her pitching, whistles of discomfort as Vi rubbed her body along the rocks, any sort of surface to try and unknot her tense muscles. She was a large mammal, one made for wading and stalking. The problem, was that Vi loved to swim rapidly, to pick fights that had her wrestling against the ocean floor. It was fun for her, part of how she kept herself enriched. It was her human side that took the most damage, sore shoulders and a scuffed up back that she would cry until you kneaded out.

You were at a loss on what to do. No matter how many times you reminded her that she wasn't lithe like Jinx, that she needed to slow down and be more careful, all your warnings would be out the window in minutes. She'd get distracted or excited, threading thick waters that bet against her arms. Vi was muscular sure, large enough to withstand water pressure but not without strain when she pushed herself too hard. Part of you did feel sympathy for her, knowing that her tail wanted her to go, but that she also had a human half that she didn't know how to take care of.

Finding her waiting near the beach line, you decided she needed to learn more about herself. You sat on the sand, doing your best to explain how her joints worked with your own arm extended. You gestured to the different types of muscle, explaining how they connected up to her shoulder and than swimming too vigorously can cause the strain. Vi watched curiously, big eyes peeking above the water at your display. She was a little confused on why you were presenting yourself to her like this, but she swam closer nonetheless to lay her upper against your legs.

You pressed a hand to your shoulder, than to hers in an effort to make her realize that the two of you really were similar, she was just much bigger. Vi's eyes flickered down to your torso, eyes tracing along your arms that connected to your shoulders, to your head. The realization dawned on her slowly, and your relief that she was getting it was quickly blustered when she tugged up your shirt. Despite your protests and trying to push her big head away she was too busy trying to get a good look at your middle.

Sure enough. you had the same sort of stomach and navel that she did. You had those same mounds on your chest, they just looked a little different. Vi pitched quietly as she observed the small differences. You didn't have any blotch patterns or scales, but you had arms like hers, and she was fascinated. The large orca began to understand that perhaps she was closer to human that she had originally thought. She used to think people were just strange creatures that moved on a split tail, who went all red in the sun and wore silly eye shields.

You eventually manage to shove your shirt back down before anyone could spot you, now mostly drenched from her pressing into you. You don't go very far, as Vi follows along and clambers closer, large arms wrapping snuggly around your waist as she cuddled into your stomach. So much for learning. You reach down, gently massaging along the tense ridges of her shoulders, her tail swishing softly through the water. It was painful, you could tell that much, especially without how tightly knotted her muscles were. You continued to try and explain why she was getting these aches, but you had a feeling she probably wasn't listening. There had to be another solution, she was clingy enough already without the need for massages.

As you trudged back along the coast line littered with shops and stalls, you notice a spiritual lady selling bottled sand and other such trinkets. She had an assortment of jewellery spread out across the table, blue-topaz and citrine that glittered under the warm sun. Spotting a collection of copperware, you decided to approach. It was pseudoscience, naturally, but you'd heard that copper bracelets can help with inflamed muscles and joint pain. It couldn't hurt to try, but her dainty bracelets would be much too small for an orca.

"You got anything bigger?"

Vi's eyes were wide as you presented her with the copper circle, one that fit around her wrist perfectly. It was a little shiny in the water, but not enough to attract unwanted attention. She was barely listening to your explanation on why you'd gotten it for her, instead too focused on the fact that you were giving it to her. Only once had Vi ever received a gift, it was a strange looking sponge that she'd gotten from a humpback who was seeking to mate. Her cheeks blustered at the realization that you were hoping to court her.

The orca looked back up at you with puppy dog eyes, and your brow raised in slight confusion. For a minute you questioned if she had even listened to a word that you'd just said, but before you could ask she dove back under the water, leaving you splashed and sitting befuddled on the sand.

Vi had no idea what to gift you, she'd given her fair share of shiny rocks to barracuda ladies, but she wasn't sure what a human would like. She raided the den, causing a ruckus that earned some tired grumbles from Jinx who rolled over on her sea moss bed, trying to go back to sleep. Jinx preferred to meet with human folk at night, and it was a mystery to her how Vi could make her way up to the surface each dawn to see you. The flustered orca wracked her brain, trying to think about the things you admired. Maybe something shiny, like the decorations you often wear in your ears, or something glowy like the rectangle you used to take pictures.

In the end she'd settled on a little glistening pink clam that held a pearl, and she'd practically stalked the beach until you were off duty. You approached her in your lifeguard uniform, sitting along some shallow rocks as she swam up to your legs, big head peeking above your knees. She was still wearing the bracelet which was a relief, and she hadn't complained about any pain thus far so maybe you owed that spirit lady back on the shore. You raised a brow when she gently pushed a small clam up onto your lap.

Vi waited with nervous eyes as you lifted the clam, prying the mouth open gently and seeing the pearl. Her tail flicked beneath the current, hands poised against the rock that you sat on. Her heart raced when you smiled, thanking her and saying that the pearl was lovely. She felt a small swell of pride, waiting expectantly for you to give her a kiss or initiate the next stage now that you'd received her gift. When that didn't happen though, and you set it into your bag and continued to talk about your day, the orca was left confused.

Did you not accept her gift? Was it not enough to prove that she would be a good mate to you? The orca below you had a furrowed brow, wondering what she'd done wrong. Usually, once gifts were exchanged there would be prodding and kissing, but you'd brushed over her offer. Vi was way too attatched to let that slide, instead it moved her to try harder.

For the next few days you received a plethora of items from her, pretty shells, old coins, she'd even tried the shiny rock approach that had worked on that barracuda, but still nothing happened. Vi was a little frustrated, confused on what she was misunderstanding about your human courtship. She was running out of things to give you, hoarding anything she could find like a magpie to bring to you the next day.

After receiving your fifth pretty seashell, you had started to wonder what was going on with the orca. The first time sure, you'd assumed it was her way of thanking you for the bracelet. The second time, it could be brushed off you figured she got a kick out of the praise. However, now you had a pile of treasures in your bedroom that you were starting to run out of room for. It was behaviour you didn't recognise from an orca, they weren't typically collectors.

On this cooler morning you waited for her by the coast, and when you were presented with another glittering coin that she had found on the sand floor, you let out a small sigh. You set the penny aside, wanting to clear this up.

"These are all.. lovely, sweetheart, but why-.."

As you looked up at her, Vi's mouth was slightly agape, big puppy eyes furrowed with worry when you'd set her gift aside. The orca was assuming the worst, was this you having made your decision? Were you rejecting her attempts at courting you? An echoed pitch left her lips, her cold tough hands holding onto your legs as she tried to nudge up to you. For a moment you were exasperated, confused. Then, it hit you.

She was gifting.

When it dawned on you that this was the orca's attempts at courting you, it was impossible to stop the small amused smile that began to twitch as your lips. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head and patting her shoulder. Vi's head thrust up at the sound of your laughter, the sight of you smiling giving her another fleeting chance of hope. You cupped her big wet cheeks between your palms, leaning down to press a small kiss to her forehead, nuzzling in close to her.

Vi's large tail bats at the water eagerly, pitching in excitement as you returned the affection she's been trying to win over for the last few days. Before you can even register it, she's smushing her wet lips against your face and dragging you under the water, leaving nothing but a splash as the two of you disappear beneath the foam.

[moonylvs]

love downloading a pdf to never read. just in case. like lol. you’re coming home with me

[moonylvs]

Is It Casual Now?

internalized homophobia!abby x lesbian!reader

Warnings: lesbian sex (abby!receiving)

I lost the request to this but if you were the anon who requested this, here ya go!

You still remember the first time Abby Anderson looked at you like you weren’t normal.

It was sophomore year, outside the locker room after gym. You were laughing with a girl you had a crush on—nothing big, just flirting, the kind you thought no one really noticed. But Abby did. She stood a few feet away, arms crossed over her chest, watching like she’d stepped into a room that smelled wrong. Her jaw clenched. Her eyes narrowed. And then she said it—loud enough for everyone to hear.

“No wonder no one wants to change next to you.”

You froze. The other girl laughed, awkward and sharp, and peeled away from you like she’d touched something dirty.

You didn’t respond. You didn’t have to. The damage was done.

That was how it started.

⸻

Abby never hit you. Never shoved you into lockers or called you slurs. Her cruelty was quieter, more calculated. Snide comments in the hallway. Avoiding group projects when your name came up. A pointed roll of her eyes when you answered a question in class. Loud whispers of “Jesus” or “disgusting” when she passed you holding another girl’s hand on campus.

And she had a following—friends who mirrored her disapproval with mocking stares and muttered jokes, like she gave them permission. It didn’t matter that she was smart, respected, even admired. Her words were always sharper around you. Her tolerance thinner. Her discomfort obvious.

You learned to ignore it. Or you tried to.

It wasn’t the worst bullying you’d faced. But coming from her, it hurt more.

Because before that moment in sophomore year, Abby Anderson used to smile at you.

Just once or twice. Passing in the hall. When you said something funny in class. There was a flicker of warmth there—confusion, maybe, or curiosity. You remembered thinking she had kind eyes.

But now you’re used to Abby Anderson looking at you like you’re something she wants to scrape off the bottom of her shoe.

It’s a stare you’ve come to recognize: a cold, disdainful sweep from head to toe that lingers a beat too long, like she’s cataloguing everything she hates about you. Or maybe everything she doesn’t understand.

She doesn’t talk to you anymore. Which is weird, because you’ve had at least three classes with her over the last two years. You move in the same social circles, even if they rarely overlap. You’ve been at the same parties, stood feet apart at campus rallies.

But she acts like you’re radioactive.

Like if she got too close, she might catch whatever makes you… you.

You tell yourself you don’t care. You roll your eyes when she glares. You smile brighter, laugh louder, flirt more when she’s in the room—just to spite her. If she’s going to judge you, then she might as well have something to look at.

But when your professor calls out your name alongside hers for the upcoming group project, your stomach drops.

You don’t hate her. You wish you did.

⸻

She sits next to you in the library like it’s a punishment, her legs splayed wide, arms crossed, a hoodie pulled low over her face like armor.

“I’m not doing the girly stuff,” she mutters before you’ve even opened your laptop. “No pink fonts. No cutesy transitions.”

You arch an eyebrow, smiling tightly. “You think I use pink fonts?”

Her lips press into a line. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I really don’t.”

She finally looks at you. Her eyes are sharp, blue-gray, too intense for someone who’s always pretending not to care. “Just… I’m not putting rainbows all over the slides.”

There it is.

“Right,” you say, teeth clenched. “God forbid someone think you’re not aggressively straight.”

Her jaw ticks. “I’m not doing this.”

You lean back in your chair, folding your arms. “Then don’t.”

But she doesn’t move.

⸻

You meet again the next day. And the next.

She doesn’t say much, but she shows up. Brings notes. Stares hard at the screen and refuses to make eye contact.

You catch her looking, though—always out of the corner of your eye. A flick of her gaze to your lips when you chew your pen cap. A second too long staring at your hands when you scroll.

She’s not subtle. But she wants to be.

You don’t say anything. Not yet.

⸻

It happens on the fifth day, when you offer to get her a drink from the café downstairs. She grunts something like approval, and when you return with a coffee just the way she likes it—black, two sugars, you remembered—she stares at the cup like it’s a trap.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she mutters.

“I know,” you say, shrugging. “But you look like you’re gonna bite someone if you don’t get some caffeine in you.”

She doesn’t smile. She never does. But her eyes flick toward you—curious. Conflicted.

She doesn’t thank you.

You don’t need her to.

⸻

The breaking point comes when you’re at her dorm. A last-minute cram session. Her roommate’s gone, the place smells like cedar and something faintly floral���body wash, maybe. You sit on the couch, notebooks scattered between you.

It’s late. You’re both tired. And something in the air has shifted.

She’s quieter tonight. Less combative. She leans back against the cushion, legs stretched out, her knee brushing yours. She doesn’t pull away.

You glance at her profile—sharp, defined, so fucking beautiful it’s painful. Her lips are slightly parted. Her throat works when she swallows.

And then she says it. Out of nowhere. Like it’s been boiling under her skin for years.

“I don’t hate you.”

You blink. “Okay…?”

“I mean, I act like I do. I know. But I don’t.”

You set your pen down. Carefully. Slowly. “Then why do you treat me like shit?”

She doesn’t answer right away. Her jaw clenches, and her eyes stay fixed on some spot in the distance.

Then, quietly—so quiet you almost miss it:

“Because you make me feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Silence.

You shift toward her, cautiously. “What does that mean?”

She exhales, long and shaky. “It means I don’t understand how you can just be so… open about it. Like it’s not a big deal. Like you don’t even care.”

You stare. “About being gay?”

She flinches at the word. Doesn’t answer.

“Abby,” you say softly, gently, “are you—?”

“Don’t.”

Her voice is sharp. Defensive. But not angry—scared.

You reach out, almost instinctively, your hand brushing her wrist. “It’s okay. Whatever it is you’re feeling—”

“No, it’s not,” she snaps, and finally looks at you. Her eyes are wild. Shining. “I wasn’t raised to think this was okay. I’ve been trying to ignore it for years. But you—”

She stops herself. Breathing hard. Her whole body trembling.

“You make it worse,” she says, voice breaking. “Because when I look at you, I can’t pretend anymore.”

Your throat tightens. “Then don’t pretend.”

You reach up. Touch her cheek.

She freezes. Eyes wide. Lips parted.

And you kiss her.

Soft. Questioning.

She doesn’t move for a heartbeat. Then her hands rise, uncertain, and she kisses you back.

It’s messy. Desperate. Her mouth moves like she’s starving for it, like she’s been craving this for years and never let herself feel it. Her fingers clutch your sides, your shirt, your hair—anything she can anchor herself to.

She moans into your mouth. It’s raw. Vulnerable. Scared.

You pull back only enough to whisper, “Are you sure?”

“No,” she breathes. “But I don’t want to stop.”

You pull back just a little, only to catch your breath—and hers.

Her lips are still parted, flushed from the kiss. Her chest rises and falls like she just ran a mile. Her eyes—those sharp, guarded, unflinching eyes—are wide now. Uncertain. Open.

“Abby,” you whisper, one hand still at her jaw, thumb brushing her cheekbone, “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Her breath stutters.

“I want to,” she says quickly, then—softer—“I think I want to.”

You nod, slow and steady. “That’s enough.”

She leans forward again, not quite kissing you—just pressing her forehead to yours, her breathing shallow, her hands trembling at your sides.

“I’ve never…” she starts, then stops. “Not with a girl. Not with—someone like you.”

You smile, small, just for her. “I’ll go slow.”

That gets a little exhale out of her. A nervous laugh, almost bitter. “You’re too good at this.”

You shake your head. “I’m not trying to be good at anything. I just want to be with you.”

That word—with—makes her shudder.

But she nods. Swallows hard.

You kiss her again, slower now. Less desperation, more depth. Her hands roam your sides like she’s learning you, memorizing every inch she’s never allowed herself to imagine touching. When your tongue teases the seam of her lips, she lets out a soft gasp, surprised at how natural it feels to open up to you.

Your hands slip under her hoodie, fingertips brushing her waist. She tenses—but doesn’t stop you. Just breathes harder, like every new inch of skin you find sends a shock through her spine.

You murmur, “Can I take this off?”

She nods, barely. So you do—pulling the hoodie up and over her head, revealing a plain gray tank top beneath that clings to her chest, rising and falling with every breath. You trace your fingers along the hem of it, and she closes her eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper.

She laughs again—nervous, shaky. “Don’t say that.”

“I’m not saying it for your sake. I mean it.”

That makes her open her eyes.

Something flickers there—pain, longing, disbelief. Like no one’s ever said that and meant it.

You lean down, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. Then another. And another.

When you kiss just beneath the strap of her tank, her fingers tighten in your shirt. Her head falls back, and her mouth opens in a quiet, breathless sound that goes straight through you.

You shift to straddle her lap slowly, giving her time to react. She watches every movement, frozen in place, lips parted. You sit over her, chest to chest, your thighs on either side of hers.

“Is this okay?” you ask.

She nods—quick, almost frantic. “Yeah. Fuck—yeah.”

Your hands trail under the hem of her shirt, up over her stomach, feeling the solid muscle underneath. When your fingers graze the bottom of her bra, she flinches—but not from fear.

“Can I…?” you ask.

She swallows. “Yeah.”

You pull her tank up and over her head. Her bra’s simple—black, cotton, a little worn at the seams. She looks down, arms twitching like she wants to cover herself.

“Hey,” you whisper, taking her hands gently. “You don’t have to hide.”

She exhales through her nose. “I’m not hiding.”

“No?” you smile. “Then let me see you.”

She nods, just once, and drops her arms.

You unclasp her bra slowly, sliding the straps down her shoulders, watching her the whole time. Her chest is flushed, rising and falling rapidly.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Abby.”

She closes her eyes like it hurts to hear. Like it’s too much.

But when you lean forward and kiss her breast—just above the nipple—her back arches slightly, breath catching in her throat.

Your tongue teases her nipple, slow and deliberate, and she moans—soft, almost like she’s trying not to. Her hands grip your hips hard. You take your time, sucking gently, kissing lower, worshipping her like she’s something sacred.

When you look up at her, her eyes are glassy. Her mouth slack. Her thighs are shifting under you like she’s already aching for more.

You slide one hand down, under the waistband of her sweatpants.

She freezes.

You pause immediately. “Too much?”

“No,” she says, voice hoarse. “Just—no one’s ever touched me there.”

Your heart swells at the vulnerability in her voice.

“I’ll be gentle.”

You ease your hand down, fingers slipping beneath her underwear. She’s already wet—soaking, warm, and trembling under your touch.

“Oh my God,” she whispers, half horrified, half amazed.

You laugh softly, kissing the side of her neck. “It’s okay. You’re allowed to want this.”

She doesn’t answer—but when your fingers find her clit, she gasps and grabs at your shoulders like she’s falling.

You circle it slow, barely-there pressure, watching her come undone piece by piece. Her hips lift. Her breath stutters. She bites her lip so hard you have to kiss her just to make her stop.

“Let go,” you murmur. “I’ve got you.”

She moans into your mouth, louder this time, and grinds against your hand. You slip two fingers inside her—slow, careful—and her entire body jerks.

“Holy fuck,” she chokes.

“You’re doing so good,” you whisper.

She clutches you tighter, rides your fingers like she’s chasing something she’s never let herself feel. You keep your pace steady—deep and slow, thumb brushing her clit, her breath getting more ragged by the second.

And when she comes—God, she shakes. Her body stiffens, legs trembling, her mouth falling open in a desperate moan she doesn’t even try to stifle. Her eyes squeeze shut. Her head drops against your shoulder.

You hold her through it, whispering softly into her hair.

When the tremors stop, she collapses back into the couch, breathless, wrecked.

You kiss her temple. “You okay?”

She nods. Barely.

Then, quietly: “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”

You smile, pressing your forehead to hers.

“That’s just the beginning.”

⸻

[moonylvs]

the idea of playing with a butch's hair and scratching their head as they lay their head in your lap and hug your thighs

[moonylvs]

I LOVE BEING LESBIAN I LOVE BEING A DYKE I LOVE BEING A GAYYYYYY LIKE NOTHING COMPARES EVER

[moonylvs]

what NOT to do with your brother's best friend

by: someone who absolutely did all of these things

꩜ pairing: modern!au abby anderson x female reader

꩜ warnings: explicit content, language

꩜ word count: 700 (ish)

꩜ synopsis:  a cheeky, steamy confessional from a girl who’s broken every rule in the book. 

(i) Don’t flirt with Abby Anderson.

Even if she could probably bench-press your car. Even if she’s got that annoyingly sexy jawline and calls you "pretty" in a voice that makes your brain short-circuit. Especially not if she’s stretching in front of you after sparring with your brother and lifts her stupidly tight Henley to wipe sweat off her face.

That was the first time you imagined her between your legs. Certainly not the last.

(ii) Don’t let her stay the night.

Her apartment’s getting fumigated. You don’t question why she asked you instead of your brother. She offers to sleep on the couch. You’re not an idiot—her legs don’t even fit on that sad excuse for a sofa.

So yeah, she ends up in your bed.

No. 

No, it’s not like that. Except... you’re still panting from when she rolled on top of you at 2 a.m. and asked if you were dreaming about her. And then her thigh had slotted between yours.

You don’t remember how it started, just how it felt when her hand slipped under your shirt as her teeth found your neck.

She made you come with two fingers and her lips over yours. You clawed the sheets and came again five minutes later when she pushed your knees back and murmured, “Wanna see how loud you really get.”

(iii) Don’t let her teach you how to fight.

“You’ll feel safer walking alone at night,” she says. What she really means is: “I want an excuse to pin you to the mat.”

You’re on lesson #3 when her legs bracket your sides. She leans close, smirking, “Giving up already, pretty?”

You buck your hips and somehow manage to flip her, but make the mistake of getting too cocky. She flips you right back.

When your brother unexpectedly walks in, you’re red-faced, trying not to look like you’re seconds away from jumping his best friend.

Later, after he’s gone, she keeps you under her, eyes twinkling mischievously. “You like being tossed around, huh?”

Lord give you strength.

(iv) Don’t drink with her alone.

You pour one glass of wine. Then another. You're laughing too much, sitting too close, your fingers brushing hers. She traces your collarbone with her thumb, "You always get this flirty when you're drunk?"

You answer by climbing into her lap. She drinks you in like it’s the only thing that’ll actually get her intoxicated. Your fingers tangle in her hair. Her hand slips under your skirt, and she hisses when she finds you soaked through. She eats you out on your balcony. Your climax hits you with your back arching to the stars and her mouth still on you.

She doesn’t let you go down on her until you beg.

You do. Twice.

(v) Don’t go with her to that weekend cabin trip.

You think: Separate rooms, separate boundaries. She thinks: One bed. No clothes.

By the time Sunday rolls around, you’ve had sex on the porch, in the shower, and bent over a countertop while she whispered, “When I'm done with you, you’re not gonna be able to sit right for a week, baby.”

You thank her by dragging your tongue down her abs until she forgets her own name.

(vi) Don’t fall for her.

This. This is the most important.

Because it's not part of the plan. You were supposed to just have fun and sneak around. 

But, it’s her bringing you your favourite snacks without asking. Her hand drawing circles on your lower back when you’re anxious. Her grin when you make her laugh so hard, she snorts.

She tells you that you look good in her hoodie and you almost black out.

It’s the way she kisses you like she’s trying to remember every inch of your skin. The way she touches you like she’s memorising every bit.

It’s you realising she’s the safest place you’ve ever been in a long time.

It happens slowly. Then, all at once.

You fall. Good thing she catches you.

(vii) Definitely don’t tell your brother.

You do.

He only blinks, much too smugly informing you that "the way you two look at each other" made it plenty obvious from the get-go.

“Just don’t make me walk in you guys dry-humping or something gross,” he groans, then goes back to his video game.

Abby kisses you breathless later in your apartment that evening and says, “Told you he’d be cool with it.” You punch her arm with a glare, embarrassed. She kisses you harder and happily lets you drag her to your room.

[moonylvs]

. ݁₊ 🦢 . ݁˖ sevika being a grouchy husbutch who, even when she's pissed because of conflict you guys are having, will still begrudgingly drive you everywhere and do everything she always does for you.

she'll huff about it, sure, but she'll still clasp on any jewelry you need to put on before work. she'll sigh extra hard when you call her for a ride home, but avoid mentioning that she was already on her way since minutes ago. she'll still fold your laundry with hers, and pick up the food you like when she hears a catch in your voice. when she's done her half of a crossword puzzle after dinner, she'll slide it over to you without a word.

and when you come to the bed that night with a frown, clearly aching for her, she'll sigh and extend her arm out. when you bury your face in her neck, apologizing or saying you want to fix things, she'll hold onto you tighter, kissing your head and telling you firmly that you guys will be fine.

because, despite any hiccups you two have, she's not one to resort to petty actions to prove her point. she'll make it clear she's annoyed by a situation through telling you as much, but she's not gonna let that give her a free pass to no longer treat you like a partner. to her, the stuff she does for you isn't a privilege, but something that's innate in a relationship. so, even if you piss her off, even if you guys are bickering, she'll still engage in every ritual, every little habit that's built the safety and comfort that that wraps around the two of you when together.

she'll still be unwavering in her efforts to show that no matter what you guys go through, no matter what conflict you need to resolve, you're hers and she's not about to drop that fact just because of a mood.

[moonylvs]

𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎

[moonylvs]

⋮ ⌗┆FA$$HION KILLA .ᐟ ( PART II )

— OLDER ! RICH ! SEVIKA × MODEL ! MOTHER ! READER ( HCS ) —

౨ৎ - 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒' : " Here it iss !! I writed 2 times and tumblr deleted 😓 but thank God i have a big patience and writed it again, — angst, baby blues implied, and a lot of fluff (･ω･) . ".

𖹭 - Sevika knew she wanted to marry you the second she saw you doing shoots for the bridal collection of Vivienne Westwood, specially on the last dress.

𖹭 - "How would you feel about keeping one of those dresses?" You didn't understand until she pulled a ring from her blazer pocket, unmistakably the one that once belonged to Sevika's mom.

𖹭 - When you walked through the aisle, Sevika let herself cry a little in front of people, for the first time in years.

𖹭 - Honeymoon in Italy. You both barely left the room, too busy making love all day and night.

𖹭 -Sevika bought a new property-lush land, a greenhouse, a marble kitchen filled with cookbooks.

𖹭 - You started sleeping in, missing fittings without guilt—You stopped walking for a season, turned down four campaigns, and didn't feel bad about it.

𖹭 - You began documenting your domestic life privately-film photography, garden photos, table settings.

𖹭 - At night, Sevika would read the newspaper while you journaled on the sofa around the left side of the pool, while sometimes looking at the sky full of stars, sometimes she would stop reading a bit to massage your legs.

𖹭 - You started feeling the difference in your body- heavier breasts, longer naps, sudden cravings.

𖹭 - Sevika notice before you did, She held your hand the moment the test turned positive, barely blinking, just whispering "Okay."

𖹭 - Your bump showed faster than expected, and so did the press commentary.

𖹭 - Many brands of luxury tried to get a piece of the cake, trying to surf on the hype of one of the biggest supermodels being pregnant, sending gifts 24/7.

𖹭 - You began being tagged in "before/after" photos on Instagram, which led you to delete the app and all your social media.

𖹭 - She rubs your back when you throw up and kisses your hair even when you smell like ginger, massage your feet, make your breakfast with help of chefs.

𖹭 - She kissed every new stretch, every soft swell. "You're making something holy", " isn't so graceful that you are bringing another life to this world?" she whispered in soft nights.

𖹭 - Time to time, you realise how much your image was built over validation and numbers everywhere; your height, your weight, how many calories you consumed per day, your number of followers, or even how many runaway shows you got to.

𖹭 - You spent most days on the terrace in robes, drinking ginger tea, reading books about motherhood, so did sevika.

𖹭 - She took over the kitchen. The first time she made soup, she FaceTimed her aunt. You sat on the counter and laughed for twenty minutes at the story of Sevika's short childhood.

𖹭 - Your baby came fast. The labour was simple, you felt bad about the mother beside your room that screamed for hours after you finished your labour, and Sevika was there, holding your hand the whole time, crying as you screaming of pain.

𖹭 - She held the baby first. Then she gave the little girl to you like an offering, the little one was identical to Sevika's baby pictures, for a moment, you thought that the photos had materialised inside your womb.

𖹭 - You bled for weeks, and no one told you how lonely it would feel. The world celebrated the baby but forgot the woman who brought her into

𖹭 - You loved your baby. But sometimes, when the crying didn't stop, you had to put her down and sit on the floor, whispering "Please, please, please."

𖹭

- 𖹭 - 𖹭 - You stayed off the runway for five years. Not because you couldn't. But because you refused to miss her first laugh, her first tantrum, her first step, and all these things.

Some nights, you sat outside on the garden steps and asked the stars for forgiveness for not being glowing, grateful, or the best mom that your daughter deserved.

𖹭 - You and Sevika barely fight, but now you're in a bad mood almost all the time due to the lack of sleep and tiredness, you and she started having little fights till... they weren't little anymore. "I gave up My LIFE for this baby, Sevika! And what did you give up? Nothing! So don't tell me what to do with my daughter." After the fight, she kept silent and slept in the living room.

𖹭 - You cried almost all night that day, at midnight you went to see her awake with the strong brightness of the TV illuminating her face, by your expression she already knew that you were feeling guilty for the words so sharp as a knife earlier. "Lie here love, sleep on my lap, then we'll go to the bedroom, okay?"

𖹭 - Sevika posted photos rarely. The back of your baby's head. You're stirring soup. You asleep against her chest. Always faceless, always sacred, like the world doesn't deserve to see you and your baby.

𖹭 - Your child giggles uncontrollably when Sevika blows raspberries on her little and soft belly, and Sevika grows a habit of treating her like royalty. Some days, the little girl even chooses Sevika’s clothes for work.

𖹭 - The photo Sevika took of you sleeping with the baby on your chest became her phone background for a year ( she changed it for a photo when the little girl took her first steps, you looking at her like this 😮 )

𖹭 - The hate comments stopped mattering when you saw your child run to you, arms open, calling you "mama" and climbing into your lap.

𖹭 - Your daughter painted your nails with Sevika one lazy Sunday. She chose pink. Sevika let her paint hers too. The mess stayed on your hands all day.

𖹭 - You caught her once sitting on the nursery floor alone, staring at the toys. You asked what was wrong. She said, "I never had this. Not even close. I didn't know what it looked like until now." You kissed her temple and told her, "Now you're building it. That's the point." She didn't say anything, just pulled you into her lap and held you like she was grateful you ever existed.

𖹭 - When the fashion house begged you back, you almost said no. Until you looked at your daughter and thought, She should see what it looks like when her mother chooses herself, too.

𖹭 - You worked out until your legs shook, counted almonds, cried over a single croissant, habits thay you got when was just a teenager looking to follow your dreams career, and they're back. But you weren't chasing beauty, you were begging to feel like yourself again, before the world carved judgment into your skin. Sevika found you on the bathroom floor once, scale beneath your feet, and said, "No body is worth this war." But you were already deep in it.

𖹭 - You practice your walks again, more than satisfied when you notice that you still remember perfectly how you used to walk, that was already a part of you, was engraved on your brain—in a way you never forget

𖹭 - The first show you did after five years, you cried backstage. Sevika stood behind the curtain, hand on your shoulder. "You never stopped being a goddess," she said.

𖹭 - After the runway, you went straight home. You didn't want the afterparty. You just wanted to kiss your baby's forehead and check if she was fine.

𖹭 -Interviews started pouring in. You declined most. Until one day, you said yes. It was in your garden. Just two chairs, tea, and wind. The interviewer asked, "How are you so calm now?" You said, "Because I stopped needing approval, the only one I need is from my daughter."

𖹭 -You told her about the hate, the body talk, the way motherhood was romanticized and weaponized all at once. You and the interviewer cried. Not because you were broken. But because healing had finally arrived, The clip went viral. Not for drama. For its stillness.

𖹭 - Sevika watched the interview ten times. "You looked like the woman I fell in love with," she said with a big smile kissing your forehead

𖹭 - Every night, Sevika kissed you like it was the first time. Because in your softness, she found her strength, too.

𖹭 - You started hosting dinners with no phones. Just stories, music, and laughter. You read poetry again. You began to write your own.

𖹭 - When storms hit, Sevika insists you all sleep in the same bed. "Just in case," she says. In case of what, you're never sure. But you never fight it. You like the way she tucks the baby between you two, how her arm curls around both of you like you're precious cargo. You fall asleep to the sound of rain and Sevika's breath, like the world could end and you'd still be safe.

౨ৎ - 𝐓aglist ; @prettyinpink69 , @abbysdollie , @marieeeluvsyou , @littlelovelunette , @madzorwhatever , @zvmbitegirl , @salsalsusu , @kataranda.

[moonylvs]

Cait is a Seraphiftie)

In LoL Caitlyn is a fan of Seraphine, who can ‘hear the souls of others’ and makes her music from it, so to me she’s basically Runeterra’s Taylor Swift, and here’s a messy smth I couldn’t help making with that in mind)

[moonylvs]

[moonylvs]

abby who always has a finger through readers belt loop, pulling them into her side subconsciously because she just loves physical touch🙏🏽

thanks for this request anon!

Abby doesn’t even realize she’s doing it half the time.

You’ll be walking beside her—down the hallway, through a crowd, across campus after a late lecture—and her fingers will find that one belt loop on your jeans like muscle memory. A little tug, not rough, not possessive. Just enough to reel you in, to make sure your hip brushes against hers. Like she can’t stand the idea of space sitting between you for too long.

Sometimes she does it while she’s distracted—talking to someone else, scanning the shelves at a store, arguing over which snack to get at the gas station. Her hand reaches out without thought, hooks you into her orbit, and keeps you there.

“Do you know you always do that?” you ask once, catching her in the act. She looks down, fingers still curled in the loop, then up at you with a faintly sheepish smile. But she doesn’t let go.

“I like having you close,” she says simply, shrugging, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

⸻

a/n: this is super short but I hoped you enjoyed! Send more requests I love them!!💕