Author's Note:

Reflection-verse final fic is not coming to me, and apparently when I can't write one fic I write g!pElsa/Anna. Except this time I dithered away at the beginning like crazy because for some reason I usually have a hard time writing smut unless it's at least somewhat plausible. Apologies in advance if you were looking for a quickie. The inspiration for this came up on Pandora, so it gets a shoutout here. All changes to the original lyrics are from Anna utilizing them for her own purposes: the astute will notice the differences. Also I have proven that once again I can't name things for shit. Sorry.

Content Warning: Describes sexual acts between two consenting adults, discussion of gender identity issues. There is also some swearing. You have been warned.

Solving the Girlfriend Problem

Anna was frustrated.

She set her Pandora station to "Thinking Music" and brooded.

She had more than a few things to be thankful for. Nice apartment, cushy 9-5 job, quiet, or at least, respectful neighbors, and of course, Elsa. Sort of. Which was the whole problem, really.

Not that Elsa was a problem: far from it! She was great, really great. Elsa was whipped cream on the tip of her nose that Anna tried to lick away while she pulled back, giggling. Elsa was delicate hands smudged up to the wrist with pencil, little bits of eraser stuck to the fine hairs on her forearms, her fingers drumming against the tabletop as she considered angles and weight distribution and aesthetics all at once, the sketches growing like twisting vines across the paper. Elsa was warm nights filled with drowsy, stupid conversations about nothing at all that would be half-remembered in the morning over eggs and coffee. She was long legs and gorgeous hips and arching eyebrows that could tempt any woman into sin.

And yet here Anna sat, completely sin-free. But hardly by choice. What exactly was the problem?

Okay, so Anna had some idea. The problem had popped up more than once.

"You've got your trouble face on."

Anna threw an arm over the back of her chair and leaned over, yanking one earbud out. "My what?"

Elsa didn't even look up from her toothpick model. "And now you've got your angel face on."

"Probably because I'm so pure at heart." Elsa just snickered and put a little glue on the side of a toothpick, pressing it flush against another one. Anna eyed her current creation, a cathedral, estimating it at around ¾ complete. She'd asked her once about why Elsa didn't just use computer models when examining her blueprints in 3D, and had learned that whereas Elsa had begrudgingly learned to do just that for the sake of her career, she preferred to work with her hands, and this was her playtime. "There's something about working with the real thing, you know?" she'd said, and then launched into a story about building this enormous tanker ship as a kid out of Legos, and while Anna was sure it had been fascinating she'd spent most of it just watching the way Elsa moved when she spoke, so animated and free, her hands gesturing excitedly whenever she kept shifting in her seat towards Anna. That was their third date, and the third time Anna had ever left a date at her door without so much as a peck on the cheek.

"Very pure. So innocence. Much virginal."

Anna groaned and shoved the earbud back in, turning around. "Stop that: it wasn't funny when other people did it, and it's not funny now."

"Highway to Hell" began playing. She stuck her tongue out at the screen.

She stared irritably at the Word document, silently willing the words "Anna Lillian, associate reporter" to suddenly begin breeding wildly, filling the page with line upon line of text. Clippy blinked innocently at her. Elsa thought he was the ugliest thing she'd ever seen, but Anna liked having her own little cheerleader when she wrote.

"Anna Lillian, associate reporter, queen of the omelettes, princess of late-night karaoke, and duchess of sexual frustration." She held her finger over the Delete key until the words disappeared. She probably couldn't submit that, even if her job was to report the truth. Mr. Weselton would probably laugh for all of five minutes and then fire her ass.

It wasn't like she didn't know how to deal with the good ol' itch: man had already invented the vibrator, thus catapulting civilization into modern times in the sexiest way, and Anna was a modern woman, hear her roar. "Ribs McJibs" had a special place in both her heart and her loins.

But she kinda sorta maybe really fucking wanted to share that lovely feeling with someone. A specific someone. A someone who was currently trying to pull stray hairs out of the side of her mouth with her pinky, pulling a face that was simultaneously cute and hot.

Which, again, was a problem.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" She'd nodded instantly, and Elsa had sighed and wrung her hands together, her shoulders hunched, not meeting her gaze. "I know it's kind of unorthodox, but then, well…so am I, so…" Anna had grabbed her hands and squeezed them reassuringly. "I am totally, 100% cool with this."

Her and her stupid fucking mouth.

She'd told herself, at the time, that having Elsa as a girlfriend, to have and to hold until death or opposing football teams do you part, was far, far better than just letting her go, where she would either be snatched up by some other lovestruck fool (Anna was nothing if not completely self-aware) or go join a nunnery. Which was all right for God, but c'mon, Anna was only human; there was no way she could give up wonderful, talented, occasionally snarky, goes to bed with the covers on and gets out with them at the bottom of the bed Elsa.

It wasn't like she'd really lost anything when Elsa had moved in, either. Yes, the toothpaste got used up more quickly, Anna's "Fern Gully" DVD had been stuck under Elsa's drawing table for four months before either realized it was there, and Anna had a sneaking suspicion that her cleverly hidden stache of chocolate was the victim of covert raids, but everything else had been a plus. She now got to wake up beside a warm body, one that didn't complain at all about drool or bedhead (but did refuse kisses until she'd brushed her teeth) cuddle beside someone as they watched cooking shows, taking a shot at every tablespoon of butter used (Anna had nursed a month-long grudge for Paula Deen after a particularly bad hangover) and hold hands with a gorgeous woman as they walked to the library, where they often split up, Anna picking up books on how to write, how to write good, and how to write well, and Elsa avoiding the LGBT section like the plague, drifting over to the historical fiction when Anna wasn't looking, as if it was some guilty pleasure. When they were together, though, they tended to pick up soundtracks to musicals: she had fond memories of blasting "Wicked" songs as the two of them lip-synched on top of the coffee table. The poor thing probably wasn't long for this world, but it'd been worth it.

Vienna Teng was singing about hearing her upstairs neighbors 'moving furniture around'. If only.

Elsa hadn't touched her once.

Well, okay, that wasn't true. Elsa hugged her, caressed her hair, snuggled into her stomach when they crashed on the couch, and kissed her with every inch of her being, which was a lot. She laid her head on Anna's shoulder when they sat on the balcony and watched the sun sink beneath the tops of the buildings, and Anna knew now to wait until she'd stopped nuzzling before she laid her own head on Elsa's soft blonde hair. Her hands stroked her cheeks, held her sides, and massaged her shoulders, sending little electric shocks along Anna's hungry skin.

They just didn't do anything besides that because Elsa, who wore ankle-length skirts to work, who once called Anna in from the front lines of the gentrification story she'd been pursuing to engage in a deadly battle with a spider, who actually, not ironically, drank tea with her pinky out, who always sat with one pale, shapely thigh crossed over the other, who insisted there was a difference between "verdigris" and "teal", had a penis and was more than a little sensitive about that fact.

Or maybe she was insensitive? It'd explain some things.

Like how Elsa could talk happily to her parents, spending hours describing her day, and how she was doing in the big city, and how much she missed them and couldn't wait for Christmas or New Year's or some other time when they could be together, even though Anna was certain that they still had boxes filled with boy's clothes that "Elton" had long since grown out of. Or how she had been quietly banned from more than one trans discussion board for talking about how much she wanted to meet and talk to other people with "genetic errors" like hers ("Have you ever heard of Klinefelter's?"): not that she'd ever have the guts to do the same to a face-to-face group. Elsa could be stunningly blunt, hidden behind a computer screen or text, as confident and focused as her designs were, her pencil drawing dramatic lines without hesitation. Or even how she could put that ugly thing on every day, to keep her equipment snug against her, insisting that while she wasn't interested in ever mutilating her body (her first warning on TransFriends) there wasn't any reason she couldn't appear to be the woman she was at heart. Anna had done a good deal of reading on her condition, and had learned that apparently Elsa a) did not have a micropenis, as was a distinct possibility, b) was the odd one out, in that usually the boys that grew up slender, with wide hips and some breast development, became men with mastectomy scars and poor prospects for facial hair, not women who put their forks down gently when they were done eating, their elegantly manicured nails painted whatever color Elsa decided this month was the girliest.

She wasn't sure if she would describe it as "overcompensating". Usually that was applied to men, and since that was a label that Elsa wanted to avoid, Anna tried to be supportive. She knew that Elsa had been confused by Anna's interest in her, arguing that she couldn't identify as a lesbian if her lover-to-be didn't have a vagina. Or rather, she'd said as much tearfully after their fifth date, when Anna had cheekily stolen a kiss in her living room and Elsa had broken down and started crying about how much fun she'd had and what a nice person Anna was and how she hated lying to her. It'd taken a few more weeks for Anna to coax more out of her, and she'd slowly put the pieces together: a sobbing young boy going to his parents, clutching a doll to his thin chest, so much smaller than the other boys but already a head taller, saying that he didn't want to be Elton anymore; the sudden transfer to a private, all-boys school, where Elton wore navy blue khakis that revealed his skinny legs everyday as the boys bullied and jeered; the hidden women's fashion magazines under his standard issue bed; the group of old women at the local sewing club that Elton befriended, who grew up in a different time when men were men and women were women, who nodded to him over their bifocals and brought him cookies and sweets and lists of names to choose from, calling him their "little darling" who just needed some room to stretch her wings; the trembling acceptance of her diploma, sent to her home by mail, where she was safe to open it; the strained hugs from her parents as they wished "Elton" goodbye and good luck; the arrival in a big city where she could wear dresses and high heels and no one would point and laugh at "Elton" being a freak; and then to the more recent present, where Anna was drunkenly crooning a lewd song to her while Elsa dragged her to her apartment, depositing her on a scruffy couch and informing her charge that yes, she'd stay, but no, not to "get jiggy with it", but because Anna's attempt at loading up on liquid courage should've ended about seven beers before. It was either the best one-night stand Anna had ever had or the worst: no sex, but she'd wound up with a girlfriend after all was said and done.

No sex. Again, problem!

It wasn't like Elsa's penis didn't work. Anna had seen ample evidence of that whenever she got up to the sound of her boss on the phone going on about "scoops" and "early bird gets the worm" and "I am your nemesis and you should call me evil names because you know you want to, Anna" or things like that. And since she had a penis Anna figured it was only a matter of time before Elsa would uncross those ungodly hot legs of hers and they would christen every single flat surface of her tiny apartment. She'd taken the batteries out of her vibrator the day Elsa's boxes had been dropped off, breathless with anticipation.

Elsa didn't bite.

Okay, fine: she'd wait until masturbation wasn't enough for her. Anna knew she was a hell of a lot hotter than "Jill", if Elsa's appreciative, if furtive, glances indicated, and she figured at some point she'd catch her in the act and then buh-bam! One-way ticket to Sex Town, population: 2.

Elsa didn't masturbate.

An impossibility just as confusing as a square circle, but she could be flexible. So very flexible.

The yoga mat still sat rolled up and leaning against the corner of her closet. Downward facing dog had not helped her at all, and she couldn't stand the sight of the useless thing anymore.

She'd even tried for a little phone sex. Just a little bit of meaningless conversation while she stroked herself to arousal, her little sighs and moans slowly growing in volume until even dense as a block of ice Elsa had realized what she was doing.

Elsa had panicked and accidentally set her on speakerphone, an action that had not helped her usual train anxiety. On the other hand, free high fives. Elsa hadn't found that very funny.

So here they were, or rather, here she was, staring at the hypnotically blinking black line, while Elsa was off in her little corner, probably affixing a tiny flag to the top because "flags are cool, Anna, I don't have to explain it". And certain parts of Anna were a little more upset than it was probably okay for them to be. Pandora kicked her into an ad.

"Shut up; I don't want to buy your stupid shoes," she groaned, dropping her head to the keyboard and rolling it around belligerently. She picked her head up when her forehead began to hurt, only somewhat amused to see her character count had increased tremendously.

"I'm not sure I can pronounce that; are you writing a story about Iceland's city life?" Elsa was leaning over her shoulder, her long hair draped over Anna's hoodie, the hint of chocolate on her breath stealing into the space between them. Anna's eyes narrowed as she filed that information away for later.

"Yeah, it's a post-modern take on how the effects of La Nina have been upsetting fishing along Iceland's coast, disturbing its trading relationship with Australia and forcing them to engage in increasingly radical nationalist town-naming sprees in order to drum up support for a land invasion. It's gonna be my big break."

"…Iceland is the one in the Northern Hemisphere."

"Journalist. Not geographer." Elsa hmmmed and withdrew. Anna scrubbed her forehead. She swiveled around in her chair and looked at her girlfriend, pulling both earbuds out. "What're you up to?" Elsa shrugged.

"Nothing, really. Just kinda bored." Elsa had an annoying habit of finishing work at work, when any modern city dweller knew that worktime was playtime and hometime was also playtime, except it was a little harder for your boss to catch you at home. She hoped. Oh God that was a terrifying thought.

"Hey, did you ever remember to put out the trash?"

She watched, amused, as Elsa's shoulders slumped guiltily. Wonderful girlfriend, really, but sometimes just a tad forgetful. Never in being attentive to (most of) her needs, but cleaning up used coffee grounds and orange peels? Yeah.

"Ah, no. I guess I'll go do that, then."

"Remember," Anna said, turning back to her computer, "I do the dishes, and you know I hate that."

"Just for the record," Elsa called over her shoulder, heading into the kitchen, "we do not actually own, and I quote, '8,000 salad plates'."

"Yeah, well," Anna grumbled, and squished the earpieces back in, wincing as she caught a few hairs. A new song was already playing. She blinked at the screen, confused for a minute, before comprehension set in, and she had a sudden idea. A sudden crazy, no good, idiotic and just plain silly idea. You know, the best kind.

The garbage bag crinkled as Elsa tied the top in a knot before hefting it with a soft, feminine grunt. Anna slowly peered around the doorframe, eyeing the young woman, particularly her backside, and coughed lightly.

"Yes?"

"Say, um, Elsa. You wouldn't happen to be free the rest of tonight, would you?"

"Yeah. Did you want to go somewhere?"

"No, just figured we could have a girl's night in; y'know, tea cozies and gin bottles, that sort of thing."

Elsa gave her a withering look. "I will not be responsible for your demise at the hands of a man shorter than you."

Anna threw up her hands in mock exasperation, so of course Elsa just smirked at her. "Oh come on! I already have-" she checked the screen "-seven words-wait seriously?"

Elsa didn't respond, already out the door. Anna chuckled to herself and rubbed her hands together. Sometimes she was just too good for words.

This plan required a little preparation. For once she was thankful they lived on the 16th floor and the elevator was a clunky, tired old box of bolts. It gave her time to get started. She clicked open a new tab to a time-honored site and began.

Elsa punched the button again and leaned back, and the elevator let out an exhausted groan and began to chug upward slowly. This would be right around the time where Anna would crack a joke about the gnomes on bikes sleeping on the job again, and how she was being rude for disturbing their sleep. Anna always called her "sassy", but there was definitely some spunk in Anna herself, not to mention a huge heaping dose of silliness.

She smoothed a hand over her mouth, noting her upturned lips. Thinking about her girlfriend (sometimes she was still stunned by that fact) had that welcome effect on her. That and other, less pleasant effects.

She looked down at her crossed arms, at the tops of her breasts, visible in the sharp V-neck shirt. Hans had made a disparaging comment about how she'd got it backward; it was "business up front, party in the back", and not the other way around, when she wore it to work along with a very modest skirt, one she'd swapped for a pair of jeans now. She'd imagined every step of hers that day was over his stupid face and those idiotic sideburns. He was probably right, in a way, but she liked wearing lowcut shirts: she'd claim it was for the confidence booster that being sexy brought, but really it was because she liked the sight of her breasts whenever she glanced down, so soft and feminine. If Anna heard the real reason, she might've gone quiet and adopted a patient posture in the way that she always did when Elsa stumbled through another explanation of her mind and how it related to her body, her accepting silence so comforting that Elsa just kept talking. It was nice not to be faced with someone who nodded and jumped in with "so why don't you get bottom surgery?" at the first hint of her…condition.

It wasn't like she was afraid of her genitalia, or hated the sight of it, or didn't like it at all. It just wasn't a vagina. Which is what true women had, true women like Anna. She'd grown up with it, because that's what boys are born with, and had been too young to really explore herself before she realized that, for all she loved playing with Legos and Erector sets, she had noticed a difference between her growing body and those of other boys. Other boys were getting taller and broader, and while she was shooting up, her voice remained higher, her limbs like sticks, and her nipples had become puffier and puffier. At the same time, the differences between the girls and the boys, besides their names and the clothes their parents gave them, had begun to show, and Elsa no longer felt like a tomboy: she now had to be a real boy, even as she watched the girls run off, giggling, away from the boys, while Elsa wished she could join them. Maybe her parents didn't let her grow her hair out, so she couldn't style it, but she saw them play around with their mother's and older sister's makeup kits, saw them bring in old magazines filched from the coffee table, saw them begin to wear jewelry and designer clothes and flirtatious expressions when they looked at the boys, and Elsa wanted.

Her parents had done their best, but it wasn't their fault: she was unfixable. She was the boy who grew up to be a woman, and whereas she was happy in that regard, she couldn't help but feel there were places where she was lacking. Or packing, as the case may be.

She shifted uncomfortably, her shoulder blades digging into the cool metal at her back. Okay, that might not be totally true either. Her body was entirely her own, it just wasn't all woman. No one who saw her walking down the street would think twice if she was wearing her cup, but if she took it off they'd stare, oh how they'd stare. She could be free and uninhibited at home with Anna, but not out in public.

Anna.

She had felt terrible, at first. Anna, poor thing, hadn't known anything about her besides "holy shit yours are the bessht boobs I've ever scheen" before serenading her in the karaoke bar to a Journey-Nickleback-AC/DC medley (she still wasn't sure how that worked). Elsa had laughed loudly in an uncharacteristic display of mirth, and Anna had winked at her over the microphone in what she probably thought was a smooth way, and that translated into real life as a drool-free seizure, before suddenly transitioning to a warbling, if passionate rendition of "I'll Cover You", and Elsa had felt her heart flutter. Screw flowers and romantic walks along the beach: if someone sang to her, her heart was theirs. She'd had an embarrassingly huge crush on Celine Dion for years for that exact reason.

And then came the reveal, where she cried and Anna stared before asking if someone had hurt her and how she was so sorry, she should've waited, and the both of them had been trying to calm down the other in what was probably the stupidest conversation of Elsa's life. It was worth it, though, because when she came out the other side, Anna was there, beaming at her, asking when she planned to move in so she could bug her boss for some free time, and did Elsa prefer coffee or tea in the morning? Elsa, being the rational one, had informed her that coffee was for the morning and tea for the afternoon, and Anna had laughed before shyly asking her if she could kiss her for real this time. Elsa hadn't wasted a second, just leaned in.

And yet she spent so much time leaning away. Not because she didn't function (Anna thought she spent her long showers cleaning her hair) or didn't desire (Elsa had once deliberately spilled a beer all over Anna's newest catch, a stunningly low-cut blouse and skin-tight black legging combo, because she knew that if Anna had put it on Elsa would be trying to take it off in seconds) or didn't know how things worked (she'd had sex ed; the wooden dowel goes in the wooden hole, okay?) but because of two big reasons.

She felt guilty and scared.

Guilty that she was something that was neither woman nor man, but some odd combination of both, and yet greedily clung to the term "woman", even if those chat boards were full of people talking about "bodily autonomy" and "identify as" and "socially designated" genders and how she didn't have to be afraid to be a woman. Scared because she knew that the instant Anna saw her without her clothes on, she'd come to the sudden realization that hey, that's right, she was a lesbian, and what on Earth was she doing with Elsa in the first place?

So she hugged, and kissed, and held, and every time things got too carried away she'd invent an excuse to leave, to hide behind whatever lockable door she could find, knowing that Anna was just on the other side, waiting for her quietly, and yet unable to open the door herself.

The elevator doors twanged open, startling her. The sound had been a ding at one point, but she suspected a mouse infestation had changed that years ago.

She stepped out of the car and fished her keys out of her pocket, twirling them around a long finger as she strode down the hallway to their door. She unlocked the door and turned the knob, pushing the heavy door open with some difficulty. She toed her slippers off, leaving them by the front.

"Hey, so I was thinking maybe we could watch…" Her voice trailed off at the sight of Anna sitting dejectedly on her chair, hair out of her braids, one shoulder of her tank top drooping, one hand rubbing her shorts and the other her shoulder, bare foot dragging lightly across the carpet.

"Are you okay?"

Anna gave a heaving sigh and shook her head morosely. She looked at Elsa tiredly.

"I've been feeling done in." Elsa bit her lip and took a step forward.

"I'm sorry; is there something you want to talk about?"

Anna stood, rubbing her arms, as if to ward off a chill.

"I just can't win."

Elsa blanched; where had this come from? Her mind flashed back to her earlier thoughts, and she felt her stomach plummet.

"You…Anna, is there…"

Anna looked her dead in the eye. "We've only ever kissed before," she said, and there was something odd about the way she'd said it, almost…melodically?

"…well yes, and I'm sorry about that…"

"I thought there's no use getting, into heavy petting," Anna sang, walking forward, her hips swaying, and Elsa stared at her.

"It only leads to trouble and…" She dipped her hand beneath her shorts, cupped herself and rubbed, sighing as her eyes slipped closed, her head tilting back. She opened her eyes and grinned lavisciously. "…seat wetting."

Elsa's keys thumped on the floor.

"Now all I want to know," and now Anna was almost up to her, lifting her eyebrows suggestively, "is how to go," Elsa drew in a trembling breath as Anna strutted up to her, wrapping her arms around her neck and drawing close, "I've tasted you but I want more."

She leaned in to Elsa's ear and panted, "More, more, more," and Elsa had to bite her tongue to keep from repeating her words right back at her.

"I'll put up no resistance," she whispered, as she trailed her fingers down Elsa's chest, tapping at the buttons on her shirt.

"I want to stay the distance." Now she was dipping her fingers underneath Elsa's beltline, just a tease, dragging along the edge.

"I've got an itch to scratch," she breathed, which was probably something Elsa should be doing too, as she dug her fingernails into the meat of Elsa's thigh, dangerously close to another part of her.

"I need assistance." Anna winked at her and drew back, holding Elsa's hands (when had she grabbed those?) and drawing her back into the apartment, into the bedroom, towards the bed. She dropped Elsa's hands, and they fell down against her front, and she flinched when they hit her prominent bulge.

"Toucha toucha touch me," Anna sang, crawling backward onto the bed, wiggling her shoulders and hips. "I wanna be dirty." Elsa heard someone make a pained whimper, but it was only the two of them. Anna crooked a finger at her, her nearly bare legs dangling off the side of the bed. "Thrill me, chill me, fulfill me, oh you creature of the night."

Elsa was suddenly on the bed with her, hovering over her, her arms shaking with strain, but not fatigue. Anna slid her hands over Elsa's shoulders, to her chest, to the first of her buttons, sucking her lip into her mouth as she slowly popped one open. She was going to have a hard time with the rest of them; Elsa's breath had returned to her, in heaving form.

"Then if anything grows, while I repose…" At this Anna's other hand, the little devil, cupped Elsa's groin, and she gasped, shoving her hips forward, further into Anna's grasp, and her girlfriend wasted no time in pressing her palm against her erection.

Anna licked her lips. Elsa felt like she was either going to die or cum, and she had a very strong preference for one of them.

"I'll oil you up and drop you down." Anna surged upward, nipping at Elsa's neck briefly, sampling the damp skin, before again panting in her ear, "Down, down, oh down…"

"Guck," Elsa managed in response. Anna chuckled. She gave a squeeze and Elsa ripped her hand from the bed and fumbled frantically with her zipper, trying to ease the pounding pressure. She swore as she realized she'd forgotten the button, but blessed Anna was there with nimble fingers, and suddenly Elsa had that much more room to breathe.

"And that's just one small-well, big -fraction…" Anna tilted her head and kissed Elsa's neck, and Elsa began rolling her hips into Anna's touch, hissing under her breath. Oh God, she was done for.

"Of the main attraction…" Anna drew her shorts off with one hand, a feat Elsa should probably ask her about as soon as she remembered how to remember anything at all. She brought her hand underneath her underwear, closing her eyes and groaning as she touched herself, and Elsa gave a drawn out whine at the sight. Anna's fingers, considerably damper, reappeared, and she brought them to Elsa's lips. This was the best present she'd ever been given. Elsa immediately dipped her head and sucked them into her mouth, her hips jerking forward in response.

"Do you need a friendly hand?" Elsa's free hand flew to her mouth, holding Anna's in place so she could suck and nod fiercely at the same time. Her skin felt like it was blistering in the roiling heat in her veins.

"Well that's good," Anna purred, "because I need action."

Her fingers were clean. Elsa turned her head, releasing them and panted, "Oh God, yes, yes please."

"Well? You know how it goes. Aren't you going to join me?" She was smiling much too sweetly for someone who was actively driving Elsa insane.

"To-toucha-toucha…oh fuck please just touch me!"

"I am, babe. But you're not touching me, are you?"

"C-can I?" Anna gave her a look. She looped her arms around Elsa's shoulders and rolled them over, and suddenly it was Elsa staring up while Anna stared down at her. Her normally teal eyes were almost black. She lowered herself down, and Elsa tried not to scream when the damp spots on their underwear connected. The sound came out of her as a trembling cry, which was the best she could ever hope for.

"Here's what's going to happen," Anna said, leaning back, but not before grinding down in what was a clear effort to remove every single thought from Elsa's head, "I'm going to strip, and you're going to watch, and if you want to do the same well…I wouldn't mind one damn bit. Okay?"

"Okay," Elsa whispered. Her body felt like it was frozen except for her penis, which was throbbing in angry need. Anna stepped back off of her, and Elsa quickly came to a sitting position, wondering if this was what it was like to lose a limb, but before she could share this idea with her girlfriend, Anna was smoothing her hands down her tank top and around her pantyline.

Elsa's mouth was suddenly dry. "I wanna eat you out," she blurted, and Anna grinned. "I love that idea, but I'm kinda interested in something else right now…" She gently pulled her panties down, revealing a gorgeous patch of trimmed pubic hair and flushed, glistening lips, and Elsa hardly realized what she was doing before her hands were at her chest, popping buttons open in time to the course of Anna's underwear over her beautiful legs. She didn't bother waiting to take her shirt off before she opened the clasp on her bra, loving the way Anna's eyes widened and she stroked a hand through her curls.

"Now the pants." Elsa obeyed hurriedly, almost cutting herself on the zipper, and the jeans crumpled to the floor.

She'd never been this naked with another person before. It felt simultaneously terrifying and achingly personal.

Anna stepped forward, still wearing her tank top, but Elsa's eyes were glued to her chest, at how her breasts moved far too uninhibited for her to be wearing a bra.

"Looks like we're in a Mexican standoff, eh? We've both only got one piece left."

"No," Elsa choked. "I give." And then she ripped her underwear off, revealing her naked penis to Anna.

Anna knelt between her legs, and Elsa thought her eyes would fall out of her head. "Y'know," Anna drawled, "you had an excellent idea just now: mind if I borrow it?"

"…what idea?"

Anna laughed, and kissed the head. Elsa shivered. Oh, that idea. "Yes, yes, please."

"And what're the magic words?"

"Toucha…toucha…touch me!" Anna licked up the base of her shaft, from the root to the tip, and Elsa's hand shot to her hair, fingers sinking into fiery strands, as Anna smirked up at her. "Need something?"

"Yes please oh my God," got her another slow, toe-curling lick, while "oh oh oh fuck yes" had Anna sucking lightly on the head, fingers curling around the root of her shaft and tugging gently, and at "Anna, A-anna please!" she bent her head and took more into her mouth, tongue and fingers working together like the best team that ever was. Elsa collapsed against the bed and panted.

"You're brilliant, you're perfect, you're amazing…WHY DID YOU STOP?" Her voice cracked on the last word, staring desperately at her girlfriend, who was licking her lips. Anna shrugged.

"Because I thought we could fuck instead." Elsa's head fell back.

"Oh. That works too," she informed the ceiling, breathless. She heard Anna laugh before she straddled her hips. Elsa brought her hands to Anna's sides, gripping the edge of her top and pulling it over her head. Anna shook her hair back into place, and Elsa laid trembling hands on Anna's naked breasts. Oh wow. There was a God.

Anna laughed at her, but it was more of a light chuckle than a deep belly laugh; it seemed she was having the same trouble that Elsa was. She palmed Elsa's breasts like a reflection of her, and when she flicked a thumb over her erect nipples Elsa sucked in a quick breath and rolled them over.

"Please, please, God, can I?" She panted over her, gripping her hips hard, her own hips jerking slightly, so close to Anna's pussy that if she just thrust forward once…

She grunted at Anna's sudden grip on the base of her penis. "No."

"Wha-what? No? No? But, but, I thought, I thought we…"

"You are way too wound up: if I let you go, you'll blow your load in a second, and I'd really rather you didn't."

"I wanna be dirty," Elsa whined. Her eyes widened. "N-not that you're dirty! I just…I just mean that-"

"I know what you mean, now shhhhh." Anna pulled her down, maneuvering her just above her entrance, groaning a little as Elsa's penis slid over her clitoris, sending a shiver running through her body. She pulled Elsa flush against her, which was so not helping her calm down any, and kissed her.

Elsa thrust her tongue down inside Anna's mouth desperately, and Anna just kissed back so slowly and tenderly that eventually Elsa did the same, their hands stroking in order to soothe, not excite. Elsa tilted her head, sliding her tongue against Anna's, their nude bodies marking a sharp departure from kisses of the past, in a good way. She pulled back and smiled sheepishly at Anna.

"Sorry, I…kinda got worked up." Anna stole a quick kiss, clearly forgiving her. She released Elsa's erection, which, despite the slow treatment, hadn't flagged an inch, and nodded down at her mound. "You gonna get dirty?"

"Yes," Elsa breathed, and guided herself inside Anna, filling her with one swift push.

"Oh shit, oh shit, I-I….oh shit." Anna, glorious Anna, with her cute freckled skin and her dancing eyes and her ringing laugh, Anna was silk and steel and heat all at once all around her, and Elsa felt her legs shake. Anna groaned, mumbling something about "finally", but Elsa's heartbeat was roaring in her ears at a sudden realization.

"I-I oh no, I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Naw, I got myself ready earlier." Anna bit her lip and wrapped her arms snugly around Elsa's back, and winked at her before drawing back and thrusting her hips experimentally. Elsa choked and matched her thrust with a far more forceful thrust of her own, making Anna's head lean back and her neck arch with a soft sigh. "Fuck yes."

Elsa whined and began to move her hips slowly, trying not to go too fast, knowing that as soon as she sped up she'd never be able to stop. Anna let out another sigh.

"Elsa, I love you, you are amazing, but Ribs is bigger; do you want me to feel you tomorrow or what?"

She was going to break that fucking vibrator, but first…

Anna cried out and dug her fingernails into Elsa's back as Elsa slammed into her, barely pausing a moment before drawing back and slamming into her again.

"Oh YES, just like that, oh fuck!"

"Is this hard enough for you?" Elsa growled.

"So hard, so good, fuck yes, you're perfect."

Elsa groaned and dropped her head down for a kiss, which Anna returned instantly, their panting harsh when they parted.

"Touch me, touch me please Elsa, I need it…"

Elsa reached down and pressed her thumb down hard on Anna's clitoris, causing her to sob and move faster. Oh God she was really going to hurt tomorrow. The thought was thrilling in a dangerous way.

"I knew, I knew, I always wanted to…to touch you, and you to touch me, and fuck yes just like that just like that!"

"You knew," Elsa cried in reply. "Oh fuck I've been dying for you, I just…I was afraid…"

"No, never, no, wh-w-why be afraid; I love you."

Elsa's eyes widened, her mouth hanging open as she stared down at Anna's face, full of naked want and desperation and love.

"I'm…I'm gonna…I-I…" Anna pulled her so tight against her own body that Elsa's breasts slipped against hers, their stomachs sliding over one another.

"Oh God do it! Fill me, just let go, fill me up, fuck me, Elsa!" Elsa was so close to crying she felt her eyelashes dampen. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately to hang on for just that extra moment, her muscles straining as she held her own pleasure at bay, waiting, waiting, waiting, for-

Anna screamed as she came.

"You're beautiful, you're so beautiful, I love, I love-!" Elsa sobbed, still shoving frantically into her as Anna quaked through her orgasm, utter bliss written on her face.

She dropped her head to Anna's neck and shuddered, her wordless cry muffled against Anna's sweat-streaked flesh as she finally released. It was the culmination of months of desire packed inside years of regrets rolled up in dark looks and needy touches and aching denial, and it was perfect.

Anna held her as the tears slid soundlessly down her face, making shushing noises and running her fingers through her hair. After a long moment where Elsa struggled to regain her breath, she slowly rolled over, settling Anna against her chest. Her softening shaft slipped out of her, and both gave a shallow groan, for different reasons.

Anna reached her hand over her chest and grabbed the edge of the blanket, wrapping it around them as best she could, Elsa chuckling at her and helping her tuck it against them. "Well I'm not moving, so I hope you don't mind half a blanket."

"Not at all," Elsa murmured, and rubbed her girlfriend's back. Anna sighed and laid her head against Elsa's neck. Elsa swallowed and stared at the ceiling, marshaling her strength.

"Can…we do this again in the future? Not like the near future – I love you dearly, and seriously that was just amazing, but there's no way I'm moving anywhere for a while – but just…sometimes. Often. A lot."

"Mmmmhell yeah."

They lay in silence for some time, Elsa's fingertips drawing random designs on Anna's naked back, Anna's breath starting to whistle through her nose tellingly.

Elsa frowned. She'd just thought of something. "Should I have used a condom?"

"I'm clean, you're clean, we all scream for ice-cream," Anna mumbled into her chest, making a soft purring noise when Elsa's nails scratched her gently. A good point, and between Elsa's hormone use and her endocrine disorder, it wasn't at all likely that they needed birth control. Still, "not likely" wasn't a good idea...

"On the off chance that I'm still fertile, though...?"

"'M on the pill, remember?" Anna yawned, nuzzling into her.

"You're gay. What for?"

"Periods, mostly. You ever feel like eating a whole cake while you're nauseous, bloated, and you've got cramps like someone's kicking you in the kidneys?"

"…suddenly I'm glad I have a penis." She felt Anna's teeth against her skin as the girl smiled.

"That was kinda the whole point of this, so…"

Elsa tightened her grip around Anna's waist and kissed the top of her head. "I don't deserve you."

"Probably not. But in the meantime I'm pretty damn happy; how about you?"

Elsa laughed, shaking her head. "Great. I'm just great."