#awormwithproblems

“I’m not sure that’s how it works,” Tahani laughs.

“You don’t think?”

“I’m not sure. But there is something comforting, I think, in the choosing. That we chose each other. We chose each other, out of anyone and everyone who has ever died that is here with us right now.”

Something huge opens inside Eleanor at that. She never felt like someone had truly chosen her in her whole life. That someone wanted her for her and continued to want her.

If they were measuring time by Earth standards, it might have been millennia that they had been in the Good Place.

“Eleanor?” Tahani’s voice is soft in her ears. “Are you crying?”

Eleanor reaches up to her cheeks and finds them wet. “Oh, I guess so?”

Tahani pulls her tighter to her, sharing her warmth in the chill air.

“I wish I had met you when we were alive,” Eleanor confesses. “I wish we were the people we are now back then.”

“It never would have worked. We were too self-centered. We needed to be here, to go through what we’ve gone through to be who we are now.”

“I know. I know we’ve worked hard to get here.” Eleanor wipes her face. “I wish I hadn’t wasted my life.”

“Me too. But I’m glad I met you. I’m glad we’re here now.”

“Me too.”

“Maybe we could have been stars together,” Tahani says after a while. “On the astral plane or whatever.”

Betty was still shaking off the sleep, but the thought of the first snow of the season was very tempting.

It had gotten very cold in the night and they had lit a fire before sliding under the duvet, but now the fire had died and the chill was freezing the tip of her nose.

“Let’s go outside!” Veronica’s dark eyes sparkled with excitement.

Betty could hardly do no to her even if the cold gave her goose flesh all over when she finally threw the covers off herself. For warmth, she pressed herself along Veronica’s back, peaking over her wife’s shoulder to peer out at the frost on the ground.

“I need a coffee before we go anywhere,” Betty snarks, giving Veronica’s middle a squeeze before heading downstairs.

Finally, when they’ve both woken up and bundled tight enough, they ventured out into the snow. It hadn’t been going on too long so there was only a smattering of ice on the ground. Their boots crunched as they made their way into their front yard. Betty loved the first snow in Riverdale, the serenity that pervades the landscape.catching a snowflake on your tongue, the slight damp on your mittens when you pack a snowball to lob at your older sister.

She watched as Veronica spun around under the light flurry coming down, just feeling how in love she is with that woman. She reaches out and puts her hands on Veronica’s shoulders, pulls her in, and kisses her deeply.

“I love you,” she whispered against Veronica’s lips.

Their hands are all over each other by the time the door to Chapel’s room slides open. They immediately start kicking off their boots, kissing each other desperately between trying to peel out of their regulation stockings.

“Nyota,” Chapel moans into Uhura’s mouth.

“Christine,” Uhura moans back, pressing her body fully against Chapel’s.

She’s a little surprised not to feel Chapel’s arousal through the front of her blue dress, but it seems very clear regardless that Chapel is into it. At least, she’s pretty sure.

They get their dresses off, lifting up and over their heads, until they’re just down to their undergarments.

“You look so good,” Uhura says, her hands on Chapel’s hips.

It’s hard to say for sure in the dim light of the bedroom chamber, but it seems like Chapel blushes at that.

“You’re sweet. I can’t believe how lucky I am right now.” 

She sounds so genuine, Uhura’s heart swells.

“Can I take your bra off?” Uhura asks, searching Chapel’s face.

Chapel nods. Uhura reaches around and expertly unclasps the crisp white brasserie, exposing the pinky flesh beneath. She takes a second to just admire them, pulse jumping, before cupping them with both hands, massaging the soft tissue and tweaking the nipples lightly.

“Beautiful,” she tells Chapel before dropping her hands away.

“Can I see yours now?” Chapel asks, hands moving up but stilling at Uhura’s back where the clasp to her own bra lays, waiting for permission before moving further.

Uhura bites her lip and nods.

Christine fumbles the clasp just a second before freeing Uhura’s breasts and letting the garment fall discarded to the floor.

“Beautiful,” Chapel echoes Uhura, reaching up to cup them just as Uhura had.

“What about your underwear?” Uhura asks, eager, sitting on the edge of Chapel’s bed and looking up at her.

Chapel nods again, but looks more hesitant. It is not lost on Uhura that, despite what they’ve been doing, Chapel still is not aroused. Uhura’s hands pause at the hem of Chapel’s panties on either side of her hips.

“Are you sure?” Uhura asks, feeling insecure.

“Yes,” Chapel says, biting her lip.

Uhura pulls the panties down to Chapel’s knees, seeing that Chapel is mostly flaccid. She already knew that would be the case, but it still felt disappointing.

“Am I doing something wrong?” Uhura asks.

“No!” Chapel cries, bending down and kissing Uhura firmly. “No, no.” She gets on the bed and pulls Uhura down next to her.

“I’m sorry. It really isn’t you,” Chapel covers her eyes. “I had such a nice night with you. And I really like you. It’s just…I’m having some mixed feelings, I guess?”

“Oh. I understand.” Uhura tries to tamp down her disappointment. “Should I just go?” she makes to get up.

“Please don’t!” Chapel doesn’t pull her, but she does place a hand on Uhura’s arm. “I don’t want you to leave. It’s me. It really is me.”

Uhura gives her the space to keep talking.

“Before I joined Star Fleet, I was engaged. He was the only person I’d ever been with. One day…he was gone.”

“Oh, Christine…” Uhura’s heart breaks a little.

“I joined Star Fleet to find him. I never thought…”

“That you’d find someone else?” Uhura supplies.

Chapel nods, trying to hold back the tears brimming at her eyes. “I loved him. I was going to marry him. But then I met you and…” she hiccups softly.

“It’s okay to feel conflicted. I know I would if I was you.” Uhura rubs gently at Chapel’s arm. “We can take this as slow as you need. Or not at all, if you’d rather.”

“I want to try. I really, really like you.”

“I like you too,” Uhura admits. “Can we just lay here together for now?”

Asami, on the other hand, is still in her undergarments, applying makeup when Korra enters her chamber to escort her to the ball. Korra tries to avert her eyes from Asami’s exposed cleavage that she catches a glimpse of when Asami spins to see who came in, relaxing when she sees Korra. Korra realizes that this may take a while and goes to perch on Asami’s bed as Asami leaned into the mirror closer to make sure her eyeliner wings were perfect.

“How do I look?” Asami asks after fiddling with it for a few tense minutes, spinning on her heel to face Korra for inspection.

Korra uses all of her mental strength to focus only on Asami’s face.

“Symmetrical.” Korra jokes.

Asami rolls her eyes and turns back to the mirror. Korra definitely does not look at her posterior. Definitely not.

“I just can’t get this left eye to cooperate. She needs to bend to my will.” Asami clenches a fist for emphasis.

Korra can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of her.

“Asami, this thing is going to be starting pretty soon. It wouldn’t do if two of the guests of honor were late.”

“You can go on without me,” Asami says, waving a hand flippantly.

Korra tries not to be hurt by the dismissal. “No, we should go together,” she insists.

“Okay, well, I guess I’m giving up on this eyeliner. It’s just going to have to be what it is.”

“Really, Asami, I can’t even tell what you’re talking about. It looks perfect to me.” Korra has to stop herself from saying anymore. Something sappy about Asami being perfect to her.

Asami sighs. “Thank you, Korra. I really wouldn’t expect you to notice though.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just mean, uh,” Asami is suddenly flustered with embarrassment, walking away to where she has her formal dress hanging up. “You just don’t go for girly stuff like this, is all.”

“Oh. True.” Korra shrugs, conceding.

“Will you help me put this dress on? I need to be careful of my makeup and then I need help lacing it up.”

Korra’s hands suddenly go clammy. She gulps. “Sure.”

Asami already has it off the hanger, holding the silky white thing in her hands almost like she doesn’t know what to do with it. Then, without warning, she shoves it toward Korra. “Here.”

Korra fumbles around with it for a while, trying to figure out up from down, inside from out. Finally, she gets it situated and ready for Asami to slip into from the bottom.

It slides loosely over her body, draping down to her ankles. There is a tantalizing amount of cleavage that Korra pointedly does not look at. Then, Asami spins, revealing the alluring crisscrossed lace as the back.

“Can you tie it into a bow for me?”

Korra gulps but nods, reaching out to pull the laces tightly. “How’s that?”

“Just a little tighter, please?”

Korra could put more strength into it, but she doesn’t want to hurt her, so she doesn’t pull too hard.

“How about now?”

“Perfect, thank you.”

Korra tries her best to keep the tension and tie it to a neat bow. Her hands are shaking just a little. She hesitates, just a second, but decides to throw caution to the wind. She places her hands on Asami’s waist, smoothing them down over the soft fabric.

Asami gasps and spins toward Korra, eyes wide.

Korra pulls her hands back like she’s been burned.

“No, Korra, I…” she tries to explain. Then, her face sets, determined. She leans in and kisses Korra squarely on the lips.

Korra is shocked but doesn’t let it stop her from kissing her ardently. She knows it’s smearing Asami’s lipstick but she doesn’t care. She’s wanted this for longer than she even knew. Now it’s finally happening. Asami’s hand slides up to the back of Korra’s head, keeping her in place.

Korra has no idea how long they stand there like that, kissing each other desperately, hungrily. They finally separate, panting breaths mingling in the scant space between their mouths.

She understands herself already, flicking her eyes over to Ty Lee wistfully and digging her feet into the sand. Why has she even been entertaining Zuko at all? All she’s really allowed with the royal family. Azula, for all of her flaws and for every reason Mai should hate her, has her heart. Mai knows it’s stupid. At least her crush on Ty Lee makes sense. There’s no redemption for her affliction. Carrying a flame for your two closest—and only—friends really was like shitting where you eat.

She sees Azula’s visible jealousy at the male attention Ty Lee is getting and she wonders if it’s only about the boys. She lets herself imagine the jealousy is the same bubbling up inside Mai right now. She lets herself imagine Azula is longing for Ty Lee herself, her nimble circus performer’s body, and not for the fickle attentions of boys who only see a pretty face and a small waist.

Ty Lee is harder to read. Mai knows—knows to not be jealous—that Ty Lee is, as Ty Lee does, just using those poor stupid boys to her advantage. They will receive nothing in turn, except for the ability to gaze upon her. Perhaps, for some of them, that is enough. Ty Lee has learned, in her time, for someone so young, to let other people do things for her if they want to do them. It’s not manipulation—the services were offered and the services will be rendered.

It’s the perfect excuse to sneak Amity into her dorm. Especially when her roommate, Mel, isn’t around. Luz has memorized Mel’s schedule and they always make sure that Amity is gone before she gets back.

Of course, they’ve kept it very PG still. Luz wouldn’t lie that she’s thought about more, but she’s focused on her studies for now. Maybe next year? It doesn’t mean she isn’t tempted when they are lying on her bed, kissing and holding each other under the blanket Luz’s mom crocheted for her to take to college.

“I love you,” slips out of Amity’s mouth.

Luz wants to be surprised. They’ve been together years now and never said it. But Amity has been down bad for Luz even longer than they’ve been together.

“Well shucks!” Luz exclaims, because she can’t help being an absolute dork.

Amity is blushing something profusely, but can’t help but laugh at her girlfriend. “You always did have a way with words, Luz Noceda.”

“Do you not know how to knock?” Ivy snarls.

“Sneaking around is kind of…my thing,” Selina says with a hand wave.

“Who’s there?” Harley calls out, the vines blinding her, and her knees automatically trying to slam together to try to recoup an ounce of her modesty, though the vines spreading her legs keep it from happening.

“I’m so sorry,” Selina says in an unusual act of remorse. “I didn’t think…”

“No, you didn’t think.” Ivy snaps. “You need to go.”

“Can I stay?” Her tone of voice is surprising. Not at all her usual cocksure lilt.

Ivy is momentarily stunned. “What?”

“Can I stay?” Selina repeats, a little more confident.

“Selina? Is that you?” Harley calls out.

“It’s me, Harley.”

“You can stay!” 

“Well.” Pamela shrugs. “You heard the lady. You want tied up too or are you going to help me fuck her?”

“I’ll help.”

“Oh goody!” Harley squeals. “I get two whole ladies to take care of me.”

Ivy uses the whip she had been holding to gently dangle them over Harley’s hard nipples. The contact gets a small moan from Harley.

“Let’s see what you got, Selina.” Ivy didn’t hide her disdain. She needed Selina to prove herself before she really believed her.

After a moment of hesitation, Selina finally steps forward into this personal sanctum of Harley and Ivy’s. It is clear she doesn’t feel comfortable being there, but the lust in her eyes betrays her. The bed dips below her as she kneels onto the bed between Harley’s legs. The vines there flick out and wrap around Selina’s left ankle for just a few seconds, a warning.

Selina puts her mouth on Harley’s exposed center, lapping first slowly then languidly, eliciting Harley’s moans and hips bucking, then much more insistent, spurred on by the immediate reaction.

“Oh, that’s a good girl,” Selina says, her mouth shining with slick from Harley’s cunt. 

“Isn’t that little pink pussy so pretty?” Ivy coos, one of her vines at Harley’s knees forking off to reach up and flick at her clit, circle her entrance where Selina just was.

Harley bucks her hips again, moaning at the teasing touch. The vine retracts.

“Proceed.” Ivy instructs, using the whip to flick at Harley’s nipples.

It’s a double assault of Selina’s mouth and the teasing leather.

“I’m close,” Harley breathes out.

“Not yet,” Ivy instructs, putting the whip down. “Selina, stop.”

“Oh,” Selina sits up, dazed from the pleasure.

“Oh, you dirty little whore,” Ivy smirks. “I want you to fuck her while I ride her face.”

Ivy goes to a bedside dresser and opens one of the drawers. She pulls out a dildo, rigid, but double ended. “This goes inside you,” Ivy explains, pointing to the more curved end, “and this goes in her.”

Harley’s whine is desperate as she hears what’s going on. She is pleading, but the words are so quiet and insistent, it’s hard to tell what she's even saying.

“Oh, and it vibrates. Just press this button here.”

Selina experiments with the different settings and intensities for a few seconds while Ivy strips. She doesn’t miss the lust in Selina’s eyes when they rake over Ivy’s naked form. Selina sets the dildo down and strips herself, still seeming a bit shy. Ivy makes sure to give her an approving once over as she climbs onto the bed, hovering herself over Harley’s face.

The dildo slips inside Selina easily, indicating how wet she must be, and her eyes roll back into her head when she turns on the vibration.

“Oh, neither of you are going to last long.” Ivy observes, lowering herself down onto Harley’s waiting tongue.

Selina fucking into Harley has Harley’s head game a little erratic, but the woman still knows Ivy’s body so intimately that she could get her off with her tongue in her sleep. And watching Harley be fucked by Selina with their dildo is certainly helping matters. Selina’s strokes are erratic, clearly close from the vibrations. Who will come first?

It’s Harley, the poor little pet. But Ivy doesn’t get off her face, instructing her to keep working, and Selina keeps fucking into her overstimulated pussy. Until Selina comes and has to take the dildo out, slumping on the bed next to Harley. Ivy lets herself come and releases Harley from the vines so that all three of them can fit on the bed.

Harley’s mouth has the delicious taste of pussy that Ivy loves, kissing her partner gently before slotting into place next to her. She caresses Harley’s skin, pressing her body to hers.

“Good night, Princess,” she says as Harley starts to drift off. “And Selina, you can stay as long as you don’t disturb Harley.”

Sadie wants to ask more. She wants to know if Abigail loves John. She wants to know if this is just sex, if it’s going to happen again, but Abigail’s hand is rubbing against her through her jeans and her brain is short circuiting.

“I want you out of these pants,” Abigail growls, low, clawing at the belt keeping her from Sadie’s hidden mana, her sweet ambrosia.

As soon as the belt is unbuckled, Sadie starts to shove the pants down and off, desperate for Abigail to get that access she so desperately wants.

“Please,” Sadie whines when her pussy is exposed to the cool night air.

Abigail chuckles, hand stroking softly, teasingly, at Sadie’s clit.

“Abigail,” Sadie whines, breathing hard at the shock of pleasure that runs through her.

Finally, Abigail gives them what they both want, pushing Sadie’s thighs farther apart so she can slot her face right between Sadie’s legs. She gives a few tentative licks, savoring the musky taste she hadn’t had in so long. It’s enough of a turn on that she moans louder than Sadie at that.

“Fuck, you taste so good, Sadie.”

Sadie is flushed, panting and undone after just a few licks.

“I don’t think I’m going to last long at this rate,” she admits breathily.

“Just last enough for me to enjoy this, okay?” Abigail says with a smirk before diving back in fervently, lapping and sucking like it’s her job.

Sadie lets an unintelligible sound at what Abigail is doing to her. Her hands find Abigail’s dark locks, held up in her usual messy bun, gripping almost painfully at how intense it is. Abigail reaches a hand up to squeeze one of Sadie’s breasts over the loose shirt and brasserie.

To Sadie’s amazement, while still deftly circling and flicking Sadie’s clit with her tongue, Abigail manages to unbutton several of the shirt buttons, peal the fabric back, and lower one cup of the brasserie so that Sadie’s breast is exposed for Abigail’s amusement. She chuckles into Sadie’s cunt as she pinches and circles the nipple.

Sadie has never felt so laid bare in her life. Did she love her late husband? Of course. But this feels so different. Like something missing had slotted into place. What does this mean about her feelings for Abigail?

She doesn’t have time to think about that too much, because suddenly, that pressure that had been building low in her belly suddenly explodes through her entire body, a breath she’d been holding releases, and she cums hard on Abigail’s tongue.

“Fuck, Sadie. You’re such a good girl.”

Sadie slumps, sweating and shaking, boneless.

“Can I return the favor?”

“Maybe later. Right now, I just want to enjoy a job well done. And I want you to enjoy the feeling.” She climbs from between Sadie’s legs and lays next to her, pulling her in close.

No one could blame Sadie if she drifts into sleep for a bit.

When Sadie wakes up, she’s still in the same state of undress she was before, clutched close to Abigail.

“I do really like you, Sadie,” Abigail says softly when she sees Safie is awake. “John and I just have an arrangement. He knows I miss women. And well…let’s just say that he misses men too.”

Sadie fixed Abigail with a stunned look at that. “Wait…Arthur?”

Abigail smiles fondly at that.

“So, you think we can do this again?” Sadie dares to hope, her chest swelling.