Me: I Wanna Write, I Feel Like Writing

I’ve been watching a lot of Mad Men because Jon Hamm and I cant stop thinking of like a sixties AU with Gabe and Beez, or just switching out broody Don Draper for Gabriel so could I suggest a domestic 60s set Ineffable Bureaucracy thing?

I decided to do 1968 because of the Apollo 7 mission (I think Bee is just a huge space nerd) and also because I have no idea what Mad Men is (thank you for giving me a new show to watch though, holy shit!! Jon Hamm is a gift). I tried very hard to do this in a 60s setting but it may come off more as 50s themed- I pulled some familiar stuff I know from The Help and read up on some careers before I hopped into this. Bee’s name is Beatrice in this because reasons.

*

Gabriel loved his life. He had a good job working as a Creative Director in a big advertising company, made enough money to be comfortable, got the weekends off to do whatever he pleased, and had a lovely wife to go home to. 

Wife. The concept was still foreign, still made him shiver and smile and feel mushy as could be. Bee would tell him to shove a sock in it, if she were here.

He and Beatrice Romanov had gotten married only a month ago, but only because she had insisted she was going to finish her college degree before he was allowed to strap her down. Gabriel would have liked to have married her the minute he had seen her under those trees in the college courtyard, but she had put her foot down. 

It took a lot more to court her than just a charming smile and a compliment, he had learned very quickly. In fact, the first time he’d done that, he’d ended up with a milkshake in his lap. 

“I’m not a cheap whore,” the soon-to-be love of his life had snapped, her dark eyes blazing with hellfire. “Don’t treat me like one.”

Gabriel had never been spoken to like that by a girl — or anyone — before. At first he was offended, so he made it his duty to try and outdo her in each of the classes they had together. Unfortunately for him, he’d found his match. She was whip smart, mean as a junkyard dog, and took shit from absolutely nobody. Many men had walked away with tattered dignity and a broken nose after attempting to tame this wildfire of a girl. 

He quickly found that instead of wanting to defeat her, Gabriel wanted to impress her. He wanted her to give him that sharp little smile she got when she won. He wanted to hear that laugh, wicked and graceless, that she would let loose on occasion when she was around her friends. He wanted those dark eyes to be on him, always. He wanted.

That wanting turned into a game of cat and mouse very quickly, both of them doing things that had society frowning and the other taunting them to continue. Heated looks across classrooms. Stolen kisses against the bookshelves of the library. His hand on her thigh, her back pressed to the cold stone wall of her dorm building. 

One night, Gabriel took the bait, and had his world shattered by his name broken on her lips, her body bare against his, those eyes looking up at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the world. 

Gabriel woke up the next morning with his vessel of hellfire next to him in bed, her inky black hair spilling over his pillow and tickling his nose. The sunlight streaming in the window made her skin look like porcelain, her body ethereal and too perfect to belong in even Heaven. The frustration and pent up tension that remained in him quickly gave way to something that melted his insides, took his breath, and made him pull her closer and press a kiss to her hair.

Three years later, he knelt in front of her with a small velvet box and watched those beautiful dark eyes glisten with tears and love and the promise of a future.

And now he got to go home to his future every single night.

“Leaving already?” Comes a teasing call as Gabriel packs his things up for the weekend.

He looks up, then gives his co-worker a polite smile. “Ah, Sandalphon. Yes, it’s my night for the dishes and Bee wants to watch the Apollo 7 launch with me.”

“You’re whipped, you know.” Comes the predictable laugh, accompanied by others in the office who were bad at pretending to not listen in on conversations. “That wife of yours has you on a leash.”

Gabriel shakes his head, unable to help his smile. “What can I say? I like a girl who takes charge. Evening, gentlemen.”

He leaves with wolf whistling and whoops following him out, but his mind is focused on calculating how much more time it would be until he got to go home to his wife. If he stopped at the supermarket and bought her favorite bottle of wine and some flowers, it would only add another fifteen minutes…

*

“You’re late!” Comes the call when he closes the door. He winces — he had been trying to be quiet so he could surprise her. Nothing got past Bee. 

“Sorry, my love.” He calls, slipping his shoes off and treading carefully into the kitchen. 

The sight that greets him is one he’d come home to for the rest of his life, but one that would always make his heart swell and his knees weak. 

His wife was standing at the stove, stirring what smelled like spaghetti sauce, a red gingham apron tied around her neck and waist. Her hair was pulled back from her face, piled messily on her head and stuck through with a knitting needle (his mother had gotten them for her, trying to insist she needed to be more ladylike. Bee wore them in her hair out of spite. Besides, they did well in a pinch).

“Hello,” Gabriel walks over, pausing to kiss her cheek before fetching a vase to put the flowers in. “I brought you something.”

Bee glances up, surprise flickering in dark eyes, before she smiles. “Sap. Put the wine on ice, we can have it with dinner. It’ll be ready in a little bit.”

“It smells good, Bee.” He does as he’s told, then pulls up a chair at the table to sit and talk with her while she finishes dinner.

His wife blows a stray hair from her face, her brows creasing. “Your mother sent the recipe to me. No, she showed up to my work to give it to me. Spent twenty minutes going on and on and on about how a good housewife always makes her husband’s favorite things…” Bee makes an irritated noise. 

“At work?” Gabriel sits up, frowning. “I’ll talk to her…”

“No need,” she says, with that grin she used to give him just before she dragged him behind a building at school and kissed him senseless. “I took care of it.”

“Bee,” he says, a rush of fondness and exasperation rolling over him. And maybe a bit of dread. “What did you do?”

“Oh, she’ll call you about it later.” She waves a hand, her smile growing. 

Gabriel didn’t even have it in him to be upset — his mother was insufferable about everything Bee did. About how she dressed, how she behaved, how she treated Gabriel. When Bee’d refused to marry her son in a church, that was when Gabriel accepted that he was going to be stuck in the middle of an eternal feud.

But watching his wife move around their kitchen and complain about her day, he found he couldn’t mind. It was amusing to see his wife come up with petty ways to get back at the people who annoyed her. It was definitely a good reminder that she would put up with none of his shit, not ever. 

“Are we watching the launch during dinner?” Gabriel asks when she turns the stove top off. 

She brightens. “Yes! And the newest Star Trek comes out tonight, too. You don’t mind if we watch both?”

Gabriel gives her a fond look, getting up to get them both some wine. “Not at all. Whatever makes you happy, darling.”

Bee grins, blocking his way and leaning up on her tiptoes for a kiss, her fingers snagging and wrinkling his work shirt. He bends to meet her, his hand resting against the curve of her spine and tugging her closer against him as their lips meet.

The chase had been well worth it, Gabriel reflects, as his wife hooks a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him down farther to her mercy with a wicked smile. He wouldn’t trade any of this for anything.

I just watched a kid break down in the bookstore because his books for the semester totaled $600 and that’s the american university system in a nutshell

Old Habits Die Hard

Keith and Lance’s New Year’s Resolutions:

1. Eat less sweets

2. Work out every morning

3. Go to bed early

4. Organize the basement

5. Spend more time with each other

One

Lance was very weak when it came to sugar. And of course, Keith had put ‘cut back on sugar’ at the top of their resolutions list, like some kind of monster. Maybe it would be better at the bottom of the list? Or in the middle? It was kind of insulting that he had put it at the top! And that knowing little look he’d given Lance? Ugh.

Keith’s unreasonable request was the exact reason why Lance was in the kitchen at 2:43am, sitting on the floor and halfway through a carton of rocky road ice cream. He was eating it out of spite. His boyfriend was being ridiculous, and Lance was not going to stand for it.

In retrospect, maybe eating a carton of ice cream just a few hours before he had to wake up and get ready for work had been a really bad idea. Lance groans, burying his face in his pillow and clutching his stomach.

“Should I stay home?” Keith frets, checking his forehead for the millionth time. “You seemed fine last night…”

“No!” Lance says quickly. Keith did not need to see him drown himself in pepto bismol and Sprite. Also, there might be a couple empty ice cream cartons he needed to dispose of. Just a couple. “No, go to work… I’ll be fine. It’s probably just a 24 hour thing.”

His boyfriend gives him an odd look, then rolls his eyes. “Does this have anything to do with the empty ice cream carton in the freezer?”

His blood freezes in his veins and he swallows very loudly. “No?” He says, very convincingly. Keith was going to be so convinced.

There’s a soft scoff and then a hand ruffling his hair fondly. “I knew it. I’ll call your work and let them know you caught a bug. Want me to have Hunk bring you some crackers and Sprite?”

“Please…” He moans, clutching his stomach as another wave of nausea hits.

“Will do,” Keith chuckles, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “And tonight when I get home, I’m getting rid of anything sugary we still own. I’ll find that secret stash of yours, McClain.”

There’s a sense of finality in his tone that both makes him nervous and turns him on a little. “Okay.” He mumbles guiltily, settling in to deal with his horrible mistake.

Two

“I don’t want to.” Keith groans, pulling the blankets up over his head.

Lance puts his hands on his hips, huffing. “Keith Kogane, you were the one who decided it would be a good idea to get up at the ass crack of dawn and go to the gym.”

“We did that yesterday.” The Korean whines petulantly.

“The list says every morning, so we’re going.”

The covers are pushed back slowly, revealing a mop of messy black hair and amethyst eyes narrowed to evil little slits. Surprisingly, Lance was the early bird in this relationship. It drove Keith absolutely nuts, which was why he had decided that if he was going to be disturbed by his boyfriend in ungodly hours of the morning, he might as well make the most of it.

But this morning, he was not having it.

Lance is unprepared for the sudden attack, squawking as his boyfriend launches himself at him, yanking him gracelessly back into the bed and aggressively koala hugging him.

“No.” Comes the verdict.

Lance almost wants to struggle, but then Keith presses a line of kisses over the exposed skin of his neck and tucks the warm blanket around them, and he’s weak. Leave it to Keith to play dirty.

“Okay.” He sighs.

And there went their second resolution.

Three

“We should go to bed.” Lance yawns, rubbing his eyes and looking at the clock. It read 10:38pm.

Keith glances up from his computer, where he’d been playing Poptropica for the past three hours, hoping lance hadn’t noticed (He had). “Can’t we stay up for another half hour? I’m almost done with this isla- uh… thing.”

Lane throws him an amused look, picking up the book on the coffee stable he’d been meaning to read. “Yes, finish playing Zomberry Island. We can stay up another half hour.”

His boyfriend gives him a sheepish, grateful little smile before turning back to his screen. The two settle into comfortable silenced, the sounds of clicking coming from Keith’s computer and the rasp of pages against fingertips filling the room between them.

Time flies past, neither of them really keeping tabs. Keith finishes Zomberry Island and starts on another one, completely engrossed in the screen. Lance loses himself to the plot of his book. Neither of them notice the time.

Well, not until Lance’s phone buzzes angrily, letting him know that it was well past the time for it to be plugged in for the night. He passes a hand over his face and marks the page, sitting up to see what it was fussing about. He freezes when he reads the time.

3:07am.

“Keith,” Lance says, staring in silent horror. “Babe, I think we should go to bed.”

“But I’m almost…” He trails off, falling back into his hyperfixation.

“No, Kogane, it’s bedtime.” Lance walks over, gently pulling his hands from the keyboard and stealing a kiss.

Keith gives him a dazed look, then glowers. “Hey, I was focusing.”

“I know.” He says, amused. He turns his phone on, then shows him the time. Keith’s eyes widen. “But it’s seriously time for us to go to sleep.”

Keith’s mouth twists into a wry smile as he lets Lance pull him from the chair and towards their bedroom. “We’re really bad at this whole resolutions thing, aren’t we?”

“The worst.” Lance laughs.

Four

“No.” Lance says stubbornly, standing at the top of the basement stairs. “Absolutely not.”

Keith kicks a box out of his way, wading into the piles of random and useless crap and the sea of boxes. “But we said that we’d do this.”

“The Lance that said we’d clean this monstrosity was also drunk and considering dying his hair bright pink. I am not that Lance anymore, Keith.”

The Korean lets out a snort of amusement, looking up at a stack of boxes that was taller than him. “Well… somebody’s gotta do it.”

Lance crosses his arms, leaning against the banister. “That somebody is not going to be me. And knowing you, you’re going to get through half of this and I’ll find you at four in the morning sitting in a pile of old clothes and covered in dust because you found an old toy and you’re playing with it.”

Keith gives the boxes a reproachful look, but even he can’t deny that. “Yeah…”

“We can bribe the Holts and Hunk to do it with pizza and beer.” Lance shrugs.

“Yeah.” His boyfriend nods, hardly taking a second to agree. “Yep. Okay. Let’s do that.”

“C’mon, mullet.” Lance chuckles. “Get outta there before I lose your short ass to dust and spiders.”

“Spiders?!” Keith shrieks, immediately jumping away from the boxes and bounding up the stairs.

“You fought intergalactic space monsters and you’re afraid of spiders?” Lance laughs, switching off the light and closing the basement door.

“It’s different, Lance! They have too many eyes and legs!”

“Whatever you say.” Comes the amused reply as they leave the messy basement to debate arachnids.

Five

“So I bought all of the movies you texted me because I couldn’t pick. Also I got Mike and Ikes, licorice, Reese’s, Twix, and a shit ton of other stuff. And Chinese.”

Lance looks up as Keith dumps the haul down on the counter, smiling fondly and nursing his cup of tea. His boyfriend looks up, then walks over and tips his chin up, giving him a soft kiss.

“How’re you feeling?” He asks quietly, his amethyst eyes searching Lance’s.

The Cuban gives him a wobbly, wet smile, shrugging. He’d forgotten a dose of his anti-anxiety meds and had called Keith at work in the middle of a panic attack. Keith had immediately packed his things, talking to Lance as he headed to the store to pick up things for a relaxing evening.

“C’mon.” Keith says, his tone soothing, leading Lance to the couch. “You relax and I’ll put a movie in.”

Lance settles himself on the couch while Keith slots a disney movie into the DVD player, bustling about to get their food and snacks ready for the night. It was going to be a long one. Keith was determined to calm his boyfriend down so he could sleep easily tonight.

The two settle into a cocoon of food and drinks and blankets, ready for their night.

“Thank you.” Lance says quietly as the opening credits of their movie start rolling.

“Of course.” Keith gives a soft look and an even softer kiss. “We’ll make Friday nights movie nights, okay?”

“Okay.” Lance whispers, pillowing his head against Keith’s shoulder, smiling to himself.

Maybe they were bad at keeping trivial resolutions, but they excelled at the ones that meant the most. And, really, that was all that mattered.

why don’t you ever finish a fic

Procastntion

y’all… u dont understand how much writing in the tags of someone’s creation means to them.. whether it’s fanart, a graphic, fanfic..,, there’s a 99% chance that person looks through their tags and a single opinionated comment in the tags can rlly brighten their day it’s just a rlly wonderful thing to see

in a constant state of ‘how dare you assume i know what i’m doing’ but also ‘don’t you dare question me or what i’m doing’   

This idea isn't mine, I couldn't copy the link. User is anonymous. Keith gaining a weight from all of Hunks cooking and baking. He's really embarrassed at first but Hunk is in love with his bodies changes. To show him he loves his body he buys him new Lingerie, gives him a good fucking, makes his favorite cake, buys him flowers and cuddles him.

I’m finally back at it! For now, anyways. Have some soft heith :) I picked a bit of what I wanted to write from the prompt, I hope you don’t mind.

*

Keith stared into the mirror, his gaze dull as his hands run down his sides. There were new stretch marks around his belly. His shirts had to be continually tugged down to cover the slight pudge that had developed. His leggings rolled down underneath his belly and hardly stayed up due to the extra weight he was carrying in his waist and ass. But now, standing in front of the mirror in his and Hunk’s room, clad only in his boxers, he felt so much worse than he did when he was in his clothes.

He presses his waist in with his hands, stifling a sniff and blinking past the burning sting in his eyes. Wow. What a childish thing to cry over - gaining weight. Keith stares at himself, self hatred rearing its ugly head. Not only at the image in front of him, but the reaction he was giving.

This whole thing was partly his boyfriend’s fault. After coming back from space, they had all been a little malnourished and battle weary. So Hunk had taken it upon himself to feed Keith better than he had been since he was a kid and his dad was still around. This included a lot of baking, traditional American cuisine and also the typical Korean and Hawaiian dishes that the two were natively accustomed to.

It was only supposed to help him fill out a little, but Keith had gotten lazy with training and working out now that it wasn’t exclusively required on a daily basis; thus the weight gain. He’d been ignoring it valiantly. Today, though… He had wanted to put on the lingerie that Hunk had bought him a while ago, surprise his boyfriend when he came home from bringing food to the others.

It hadn’t fit. He’d hardly been able to squeeze into it when the delicate lace had ripped and he was stuck staring down at the ruined outfit. Now he was here.

Keith is crying when Hunk comes home, not at all noticed by the former red paladin. “Hey babe, I’m - Keith? Keith, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Keith shakes his head, scrubbing at his eyes and reaching for his clothes quickly, like a cat spooked back into hiding. “I’m fine. Nothing.”

Hunk’s eyes scan the room, taking in everything. The ripped lingerie, the discarded clothes, the ashamed flush on Keith’s chest and ears. He sighs softly, walking over and tugging Keith away from his clothes. “Hey,” he murmurs. “C’mere.”

Keith doesn’t have time to dispute his boyfriend as he’s pulled into a warm hug. Traitorous tears threaten to spill again, but this time he doesn’t even have energy to push them back down. He sniffs thickly, melting against Hunk when he passes a massive hand over his spine.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Hunk asks, the question rumbling deep in his chest.

“I’m disgusting.” Keith answers after a moment, his voice dull and weepy. “I ripped the lingerie you bought me because I wanted to surprise you but I’m - I’m too fat.” His voice cracks.

The Hawaiian pulls back, frowning and holding his boyfriend at arms length. “That’s okay. We can buy you new lingerie. That set is kind of old, anyways.”

“But that isn’t the point!” Keith cries. “I wanted to feel beautiful, to dress up for you and make you feel good. But now I’ve ruined it.”

“Keith,” Hunk sighs, slightly put out. “It isn’t ruined, baby.”

Keith rakes his hands down his face with a shaky breath. “Yeah, but it was supposed to be about you. Now it’s about me.”

“I think maybe you need it.” Hunk soothes, pulling him back and kissing his forehead. His hands wander down his sides, firm and careful. “Let me take care of you, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” Keith says grudgingly. “But I’m making it up to you.”

“Later.” Hunk agrees, reaching down and squeezing at Keith’s ass, earning a soft squeak. He walks them backwards until his boyfriend is sitting on the bed, looking up at him. His gaze softens at the remnants of tears on those pale cheeks, the self doubt and guilt and shame lingering in those amethyst eyes.

“Lay down, baby.” He requests. Keith obliges, settling down on the bed and avoiding his gaze.

Hunk kneels over him, pressing soft kisses over his cheekbones, raining them over his nose, placing them over his lips. The Korean lets out a soft sigh, his eyes flickering shut, a crease between his eyebrows the only indication of being stuck in his head. Hunk planned to change that.

He spends the next few minutes lavishing kisses over as much of Keith as he has the boy writhing underneath him, slowly worked up, before he moves on to making him feel good. Hunk seals his lip over a nipple, flicking his gaze up and sucking slowly. The Korean gasps, tossing his head back, clinging to the sheets.

“You’re so beautiful,” Hunk murmurs, kissing his way to the other one, teasing it to a flushed and tender point with his tongue. Keith mewls his pleasure, quiet and shaking.

The Hawaiian shifts down, pressing his face into his belly for a moment, his hands stroking the insides of Keith’s thighs before tugging his boxers off, leaving Keith bare and open.

“So eager for me.” He coos, pulling away to look down at him.

Keith is a sight to behold. His ebony hair spills over the pale yellow sheets, his amethyst eyes hooded and darkened with arousal. His pale skin is flushed with it, his cock already hard against his belly. Hunk takes a breath, wishing he could do nothing more than devote his life to worshiping the deity spread out underneath him, the best thing he had been blessed with. He sends a silent thank you to the holy Pele, as far from her as he was.

“Hunk,” Keith begs, reaching for him, needy and wanting.

“I’ve got you, koʻu lani.” He settles between his legs, taking Keith into his hand and stroking him. Keith’s mouth falls open in a breathless cry, his head tilting back and his eyes closing underneath the ministrations of his lover. Hunk drinks it all in, filing it away underneath the place he kept when he wanted to remember just how beautiful his boyfriend truly is.

It doesn’t take much to bring the Korean to the brink. Under Hunk’s gentle hands and loving gaze, he doesn’t stand a chance. With the gentle murmuring of come on, sweetheart, that’s it from his boyfriend, Keith comes undone at the seams with a breathless little gasp.

The afterglow is heaven, especially when he’s cleaned up and wrapped in a loving embrace.

“Do you feel better?” Hunk whispers into his hair, his body curled around Keith protectively.

“Yeah,” he answers, his throat thick with emotion. “Yeah. Thank you.”

He can feel the press of Hunk’s smile in his hair. “I love you, Keith Kogane.”

“I love you, too.”

*

Requests are CLOSED for now.

I just wanted to say I really love your Children of the Sea story!! I cant wait to see what happens next!!

Thank you!! I have yet to decide what happens next, haha :) I've got a few ideas going but I'll update it soon! Thank you for reading ❤️

Unaware touch starved Sevika x (un)surprisingly observant Vi

Slight NSFW! I made it into a 5+1 :) hope that's okay, anon <3

~~~

One

Sevika grunts softly as she disconnects the hydraulics that connect her arm to the harness, setting it down on the kitchen table with a louder clatter than she means. She stares blankly at the limb, mouth pressed into a thin line, before she sits down heavily at the chair in front of it. 

Vi pokes her head out of the kitchen, blinking, then smiles. “Hey, baby.”

“Hi.” Sevika grunts.

“You hungry?” Vi comes over to nudge the discarded limb further on the table so it doesn’t continue its slide down toward the floor. 

Sevika grunts again, watching Vi, tense. 

Vi softens. She brushes a hand through Sevika’s hair, ignoring the initial way she tenses. Her fingers massage her scalp gently, pulling a low groan from her girlfriend. Sevika’s eyes close and she drops her head back, bumping against Vi’s chest and staying there. 

“Yeah?” Vi murmurs. 

She gets another grunt, softer this time, as Sevika relaxes into the feeling. 

~~~

Two

Sevika had little tells. She tended to loom, when she was pissed off. She grit her teeth, ground them a little each time someone pissed her off enough. It left her jaw sore and her teeth pulsing painfully, which usually led to a headache. 

She also has a habit of slamming things around a bit when she’s coming down from the dregs of anger. It’s quiet, but she’s firm and sharp with every inanimate object around her. Vi can usually hear muttering from the bedroom when Sevika argues with a dresser drawer or negotiates space with the bathroom counter.  

It isn’t until they’re settled in on the couch to watch a movie that Vi can urge her to lay down in her lap. Sevika usually goes with another little grumble, but she doesn’t bother to hide the way she shoves her face in Vi’s thigh when she finally settles. 

She grunts softly when Vi reaches down to gently massage her jaw, her thumb pressing gently to the juncture of her temple and jawbone, rubbing the pressure from it. Sevika melts, eyes slipping shut as Vi picks through their option of reruns and shitty romcoms. 

If she dozes off before Vi can pick one, nobody needed to know.

~~~

Three

Vi’s favorite thing to do was watch Sevika melt. She’d found a couple ways to do it, but her favorite way was when they were getting ready for bed. 

It was usually when Sevika was grumbling about work, or recounting a new cool fact she’d learned, or just generally listing off their schedule for the upcoming days. This was Vi’s favorite time to interrupt, turning to look at Sevika and reaching up to cup her face. 

It always made Sevika stutter a little, pause, her long eyelashes flickering. She always pressed her cheek into one of Vi’s palms, eyes slipping halfway shut. 

“Yeah?” Vi murmurs every time, her free thumb brushing over Sevika’s cheek, tilted up in offering for every affection Vi could give. 

“Mmh.” Sevika hums softly, melting, nearly purring like a happy kitten. 

Vi often stayed right there, letting Sevika cup her wrist and hold her there. 

~~~

Four

Kiss attacks were something Sevika had no knowledge of before Vi. 

It came when Vi got tipsy, and went as such; Vi squinted at her from across the bar, or beside her on the adjoining barstool, and pouts. Her cheeks were always a little flushed, her gaze bright with her alcohol of choice. 

Didn’t matter if Sevika had a full cup in hand, if Sevika was in the middle of a conversation, if Sevika was trying to appear put together in front of some visitors for work - nope. Vi got that gleam in her eyes, and Sevika was helpless to do anything but wait to catch her girlfriend in her arms and get smothered in kisses. 

Sevika liked to wrap her arms around Vi’s waist, hold her flush against her body, even if she groaned and complained and pretended to hate it. Vi liked to finish with a kiss to the tip of her nose, noisy and sweet, and lean heavily against her to steal her drink. 

Sevika was always left grinning afterwards. 

~~~

Five

The best kind of touch, in Sevika’s opinion, came when she decided to give in and let Vi do as she pleased in bed. 

Vi was so gentle with her; the cocky tendencies and teasing went right out the window the moment Sevika either gave in to Vi’s request or asked outright for it. She spent so much time pressing kisses to every inch of Sevika’s skin, murmuring soft praise against her skin, pausing to pay special attention to every scar. 

Orgasms were more intense when Sevika let Vi take her time, working her up gently and slowly, somehow following every cue Sevika gave or didn’t give, doing exactly what her body wanted or needed with hardly a breath. Sevika always melted easily, making noises she hadn’t known she was capable of before Vi. 

It always ended with tears; Sevika overwhelmed to the point of crying once she did topple over the edge into pleasure with an intensity she’d never thought was possible. Vi always curled up against her side, kissing her tears away and stroking her hair until she calmed and settled, head tucked beneath Vi’s chin. 

Sevika never returned the favor those nights, but Vi never seemed to mind. She was happy to pull the blankets around them and murmur praise until Sevika fell right to sleep against her.

~~~

Plus One

“Vi,” Sevika says one morning, while she’s sitting at the table, reading an article on her phone. 

The smell of bacon and the sound of grease popping filters from the kitchen, where Vi was making them a lazy weekend brunch. “Yeah, baby?”

“I’m reading this article,” Sevika pulls her reading glasses off. 

“Okaaay..” Vi hums, waiting for her to elaborate. 

Sevika is silent for a moment, before she clears her throat and asks, “Do you know what being touch starved is?”

There’s the sound of… maybe laughter? Before it’s choked off and Vi coughs. “I, uh - yes. Yeah. I do know. Why?”

Sevika squints suspiciously at the noise. “...I think I may be that.”

Vi chuckles this time, unable to help herself. “Yeah. Yeah, baby, I think you are. Figure it out finally?”

“You knew?” Sevika yelps, heat rising to her cheeks. 

Vi comes out of the kitchen, leaning in the doorway, fond. “Yes, love. I knew.” She goes over, smelling of bacon and coffee, pausing to kiss the top of Sevika’s head. Sevika melts, and then <em>realizes</em> she was melting, and scowls. 

“Oh.” She says instead, and Vi sighs fondly and kisses her forehead. 

“I’ll make sure you aren’t starved, Sev. Just lemme do my thing, okay?”

“Okay.” Sevika grumbles, and leans into the playful scratch to the short hairs on the back of her neck.

I GOT A TWITTER

Everyone say thanks to my girlfriend.

What am I doing there??? You tell me!

Anyway, go follow me 😂 my handle is twineustogether and you get the bonus of me figuring out how to Twitter and also you get to see my face so? Does that count?