Everyday I Wish For A Dyke To Do It Right There Out On The Deck, Put Her Canine Teeth In The Side Of

i love hot girls who are obviously weird as fuck

ARIANA GRANDE and CYNTHIA ERIVO by HELEN MURRAY for NATIONAL YOUTH THEATER, JANUARY 2025.

౨ৎ literally me <3

18+ mdni

that reality check hitting after reading smut

i present you with the dynamic of

bossy femme x butch following/listening like a good puppy

Why can hot girls (me) never sleep?

IDC IF ITS A STRAP!!! I SAID NUT IN ME.

IDC IF ITS A STRAP!!! I SAID NUT IN ME.

IDC IF ITS A STRAP!!! I SAID NUT IN ME.

IDC IF ITS A STRAP!!! I SAID NUT IN ME.

IDC IF ITS A STRAP!!! I SAID NUT IN ME.

fav parts of my gay ass room🎀🎀🎀

Ariana Grande via her Instagram handle, 31th December 2024.

Sevika when she’s having a bad day.

⋮ ⌗ ┆BUT IT'S WARMER IN YOUR ARMS ּ ֶָ֢.

Happy ones tonight 'Cause it's warm ('cause it's warm) In your arms

The door shuts softly behind her.

No slamming. No grumbling. Just the soft click of tiredness. You hear the sound of her boots being kicked off, the low groan as she shrugs off her coat, and then her footsteps—heavy, slow—moving toward you like gravity is tugging at her bones.

You’re curled up on the couch with an old book of recipes that once belonged to your mom in one hand and a mug of tea in the other. It’s warm, gentle, quiet.

Until she drops onto you like a boulder. All strength and sighs and the kind of exhaustion only Sevika knows how to carry.

You set the book aside without a word. Your tea too. Her head finds its way to your chest, resting right in the middle like it belongs there—because it does. You feel her breathing, steadying against you.

Your fingers slip into her hair, slow and gentle, nails scraping softly against her scalp. She melts under your touch, that hardened tension she carries everywhere uncoiling piece by piece.

Nothing needs to be said. You know she’ll tell you later, maybe. Or maybe not. Some days, she just needs this—your skin, your heartbeat, your hands in her hair.

Eventually, with a kiss to her forehead and a promise of warmth, you nudge her toward the bathroom. The bath is already ready—steam curling in the air, water just how she likes it. She presses a kiss to your cheek before disappearing inside, stripped down to just skin and weariness.

While she bathes, you warm up the food you saved her. It’s simple, hearty. You plate it carefully, setting it on the table just in time for her to emerge—clean, warm, her hair still damp and around her face.

She eats fast. Not like she’s starving, but like she’s eager. Like every bite gets her one second closer to being back in your arms. You watch her with a small smile, heart quietly blooming. And once the plate is cleared, she returns to you.

Curling up on the couch with you again, her arm thrown over your waist, her face tucked in close. She exhales. This time it’s not weary. It’s peaceful.

You press your lips to her temple, and she hums low in her throat. Content.

No words needed. Just the warmth of home, Just the quiet love you hold her with.

☯ - 𝓣ag list.' : @princess-ish-shit , @marieeeluvsyou , @caitviana , @abbysdollie , @watermelonshine , @diouna , @boomhellokitty3141 , @zombieeepup .