Three Internet Trends I Will (regrettably) Probably Never Grow Out Of:

kinda weird hozier asks

- Take Me To Church- Are you religious?

- Work Song- Is there anyone you’d sing a love song to, romantic or platonic?

- Someone New- Do you fall in love easily?

- Almost- Do you ever dance alone to music?

- Cherry Wine- Do you have a sweet tooth?

- Nina Cried Power- Do you participate in any activist movements?

- From Eden- Do you think theres “something tragic about this” life?

- Movement- Do you perform in any way?

- Angel Of Small Death and The Codeine Scene- Any addictions?

- Like Real People Do- Have you kissed people?

- Jackie and Wilson- Do you want kids?

- Shrike- What’s your favorite bird?

- Dinner and Diatribes- What’s your favorite food?

- Moment’s Silence- What do you find beautiful about the situation you’re in now?

- Would That I- Is there anything you wish you could change about the past?

- NFWMB- Is there anything you would protect with your life?

- To Be Alone- Do you prefer other people’s company or your own?

- Arsonist’s Lullabye- Do you ever feel lost?

- No Plan- Do you believe in a pre-determined purpose in life?

- Sedated- What time do you go to sleep?

- As it Was- Do you go to many parks and natural places?

- In A Week- How do you want to die?

- Be- Have you changed much as a person in the last year?

- In the Woods Somewhere- Have you ever had a supernatural experience?

- My Love Will Never Die- Are you dating anyone?

- It Will Come Back- Do you like to write?

- To Noise Making- Do you like to sing?

- Talk- What’s your best friend like?

- Nobody- Who in your life is important to you?

- Foreigner’s God- Do you ever talk to yourself or something above?

- Sunlight- Do you prefer sunny or rainy weather, or somewhere in between?

Thanks for playing!

Unconditional

Keith scowls down at the stick in his hands. The damn little stick that read negative. The third damn little stick he had taken that day. He stares at it a moment longer, then drops the test into the bin and gets up from his perch on the side of the bathtub to wash his hands.

It wasn’t common for Keith to be as infertile as he was. Omegas were supposed to practically oozing fertility and vitality! His alpha would argue that he wasn’t infertile, his uterus was just annoying, but Keith would definitely beg to differ.

The omega brushes his palms against his pants and decides to throw himself into baking something while he waited for Lance to get home. They’d been trying for the past three months. He’d gone through painful procedures, medicines that made him weepy or irritable, different positions, inducing heat. None of it had worked.

So his go-to was baking. That made him more of an omega, right? Maybe if he acted more like his secondary gender, he would get pregnant. His instincts were all screwed up anyways. He wasn’t like the other omegas. Lance always liked to tease that he was an alpha hiding in an omega’s body.

Maybe being an alpha would be easier, he thinks to himself as he aggressively rolls out the cookie dough. It would certainly save Lance a lot of trouble. Then they could get a surrogate and he wouldn’t have all of those weepy, jealous emotions that came with his instincts.

By the time Keith’s alpha does come home, the kitchen smells amazing and they have about six dozen different types of cookies. Keith is washing dishes, covered in flour and muttering to himself, his brow pinched.

“I’m home,” Lance calls, undoing his tie and slipping off his shoes. “Wow. You made a lot of stuff today.”

At his mate’s silence, Lance suspects that the tests had been negative again. Uh oh. Moody Keith and peanut butter cookies were on the menu tonight. He sets all his things down before going into the kitchen.

“Baby.” He hums, wrapping his arms around the omega’s waist. He buries his face in his neck, scenting him. He could almost taste the cloying anxiety and self hatred. Lance frowns, rubbing his cheek there to try and soothe his mate’s scent with his own. “What’s up?”

“The sky.” Keith replies tersely, still tense in his grip. He reached forward, grabbing the soap and pouring it over a dirty bowl.

“No,” the alpha snorts, kissing his cheek. He reaches over, turning off the water and ignoring Keith’s annoyed grunt. “I mean what’s up with you.”

“Nothing. I’m just baking.” He mumbles, reaching over to turn the water back on. Lance catches his hands, walking backward with him and turning his mate around to face him. “And I was trying to wash dishes.” He grumps, looking up at his mate.

“You never ‘just bake’ six dozen cookies.” He tilts Keith’s chin up, brushing his thumb over his cheek. Keith avoids his gaze.

“Baby…” The alpha pleads, leaning down and brushing his nose over his mate’s cheek, gently scenting him. “Please talk to me.”

Keith’s eyes flicker shut. He takes a breath, his throat suddenly tightening with emotion. He takes a moment, melting into his mate’s attention and closing his eyes. What had he done to deserve such a patient, loving alpha?

“The test was negative again.” He whispers, opening his eyes after a moment and looking up at him. He expected disappointment or guilt or… something. But instead, he was met with a smile and a kiss to the forehead.

“I know.” Lance murmurs against his skin, wrapping his arms just a bit tighter around his waist.

“You- what? You do?”

“Yeah,” the alpha laughs, peppering kisses along his face. “Yeah. You don’t bake unless you need to make yourself feel better. I’m not complaining!” He adds quickly at Keith’s guilty expression. “The guys at work love your cookies. They’ll be happy.”

The omega lays against him, thinking this through. He presses his cheek to Lance’s shoulder, brushing his fingers over his collarbone and staring off into space. “Are you happy?” He asks after a moment, his voice rough.

Lance blinks, pulling back slightly to look down at him. “What? Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because,” he takes a sharp breath, rubbing his stinging eyes. “Because you want a family. You want… kids and a home and… I’m not giving that to you. I just have- cookies! And negative pregnancy tests and fucked up hormones…”

“I have a family.” Lance hums, brushing a thumb under Keith’s eye. “My family is right here.”

“But I’m just… I’m just me.” Keith’s voice cracks.

“Just you is all I want. That’s all I could ask for.”

The omega sucks in a breath, looking away as a tear leaks down his cheek. How Lance - perfect, beautiful Lance - had chosen him, of all people, was beyond Keith. He was just a roughed up, foster kid, short tempered omega from the middle of nowhere Korea. It had taken two years for Lance to get him to say yes to going out with him, another year to break down the walls and figure Keith out, and six months after that to convince him that yes, the alpha wanted him as his mate.

They’d only mated a year ago. But Keith had known that Lance came from a big family and wanted at least three kids. So when they mated, he immediately went off his suppressants and had been trying to give Lance what he wanted ever since.

Twelve months of trying. You’d think by now that they would have at least had one pregnancy scare. But nothing. He could give Lance nothing. Nothing but cookies and emotions.

“Oh, baby, hey,” Lance pulls him back against him, burying his face in the omega’s hair. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying.” Keith protests with a sob.

“Okay, not crying.” Lance agrees, brushing his hand up and down his mate’s back. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.”

“I just want to give you a family.” He weeps, clinging to Lance’s shirt.

“I know. I know. We’ll just keep trying.” He soothes, kissing the scent glands on his neck, trying to calm him down.

“Okay.” Keith sniffs.

They sit there for a moment before Lance picks him up, hefting him over his shoulder.

“Lance!” He squeals, patting his back. “Lance, what’re you doing?”

“Trying again!” He laughs. “Gonna get you pregnant.”

“It’s less effective when I’m not in heat,” Keith flushes, kicking his feet.

“Okay, then I’m making you feel good.” He pats his ass happily.

The house echoes with Keith’s giggling as they head down the hall. Finally, the upset omega smell was fading, leaving the house peaceful and full of life once again. Cookies sat on the counter. The sun went down outside. Things were going to be okay.

Hello again! Back with another one-shot! Sorry for the dry spell- Writers block is a bitch.

Look!!! This is my arm now!!

Guess what I did.

Hey! I wanna write again! Send me prompts! Preferably fluffy ones because I need summery fluff!

No idea who's actually here from my fanfic lol, but I'm taking requests to line up for my next fics <3 vi x sevika only please! AUs, ideas, whatever suits your fancy. I do write smut as well :D

Galra AU Shidge... Not sure if that counts as a prompt but I can't think of anything to add to it

Hi! Let me say that I am so sorry that this took so, so long - but I really hope you enjoy this!

*

Ask to be Unbroken

The day Pidge met Takashi Shirogane was easily one of the worst days of her life.

It was the day after her entire family — the entire town — had been killed. She was the last, hidden away in the blood and carnage and wreckage, waiting for death to come on swift wings and take her like it had taken everything else. Ash and soot clung to her bloodied, matted fur. The smell of smoke and death was heavy on her tongue, in her nose. Whatever wounds she had were caked with blood and dirt and she could feel infection and fever seeping into her body with each hour that passed.

The Galra Empire had arisen. Her town was not the first town in opposition, though they might have been the last. The people Pidge had grown up with, the people who she had loved — they had stood up when the Emperor had begun killing innocent outsiders and turning a blind eye to the wicked magic his wife had grown fond of. She had watched her father and the other men in the town gather around her kitchen table, pouring over notes and maps and hastily thrown together battle plans.

She had sat in the hallway with her older brother, huge ears trembling as she listened as intently as she could. She had been there, constructing weapons and helping enhance ships when her father had finally given in to her insistent pleas to help their revolution. She had watched families lose sons, daughters, brothers, mothers, and fathers. She had watched bond-mates get ripped away from their beloved as the war raged and the Emperor’s wiles grew and his humanity dwindled and then evaporated.

And just hours ago, she had watches troops of the Galra horde kill families in cold blood and set the town alight in flame. She had watched her family get murdered, narrowly avoiding death herself. She had only survived because her older brother, Matthew, had pushed her into a cupboard and told her to be silent for once, Katie, and she had listened. Matthew had been dead at her feet when she’d pushed the door open.

Now it was only her in the ash and soot and blood that was left of what had been her home. Only her and countless piles of bone and fur that had once been her family and her friends.

Pidge didn’t know how long she sat there among the death and rubble. After her tears had run out and exhaustion had set in, she had sat down in the middle of what had once been the main road, staring into the horizon and wishing for death.

What came, however, was not death. Instead, a beat up ship with a worn looking Rebellion insignia painted on the side kicked up a dust storm in the near distance, disturbing the morbid silence. Four figures stepped out after the engines had cut, and Pidge watched with distant interest as they surveyed the area around them.

There wasn’t much left for them here. Just blood and dust and bones and… and Pidge. But she wasn’t much more, either. She closed her eyes, hoping maybe this was all a terrible, terrible dream and she would wake with Matt pulling her ears and laughing in her face, and her mother at the stove, and her father tinkering away in the yard.

When she did open her eyes, it wasn’t to Matt. It was to an unfamiliar voice, accompanied by grey eyes and fluffy ears poking out a tuft of white fur. She realized distantly that it was a male Galra, and that he was speaking to her. She blinked dust from hazy green eyes, reaching up to adjust the broken spectacles that she’d taken from her brother’s body.

“There’s nothing for you here.” She found herself speaking, her voice unrecognizable even to her own ears.

Those grey eyes she was looking into brighten a bit into something hopeful, and she has to close her eyes. There was no hope here, not anymore. Hope had died with the rest of her family.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” The Galra asked, his voice a soothing timbre.

An ugly smile twisted her face, her eyes opening to narrow slits. “Leave me to die with the rest of them.” She hissed, her ears pinned back. Her body was trembling.

“I think that would be a terrible way to die,” he said, his voice low and soothing and conversational, like they weren’t sitting in the prime example of the genocide the Emperor was capable of. She hated it. She wanted him to feel her pain. She wanted him to hurt, to feel the fire burning in her lungs and the stiff knots in her belly and the trembling exhaustion in her body.

“Besides,” the Galra continues, oblivious to her anguish. “I think your friends would want you to continue their fight, don’t you think?”

Something in Pidge wanted to snap back, wanted to spit poison at his feet, rake her claws against his face. But the exhaustion won out the grief and she sagged forward, pressing her fingers to her face and letting out an ugly sob, one that made some part of her want to lean into this man and beg for comfort.

“Come with me.” His voice gave way to something pleading, and she doesn’t stop him when he cups her elbows. “Let’s make them pay for their deaths.”

Pidge looked up at him, her vision blurry, and took a breath. “What’s your name?”

He smiled, standing up and guiding her with him. “My name is Shiro.”

*

Pidge was taken to some sort of rebellion base after the Galra — Shiro — had coaxed her to join him and his crew.

She had heard her father talk of this place, once or twice, when she had snuck out of her room after bedtime to listen to the meetings. Somehow, it was nothing and also everything she had imagined. For one thing, there were many more people than she dreamed. Along with that, there were no maps and strategies planned by the light of the lamp — instead there were entire meeting rooms and holoscreens dedicated to that.There were differences, though. Many of the people looked to be close to her age. They functioned less like a military and more like a city, including the apartments and different shops.

Pidge didn’t get to see much of it at first. She was whisked away to the medical bay almost immediately after they had set foot in the hangar. Everything was so bright and clean, and she realized just how filthy she was when they pushed her into a private shower and gave her some sort of thin hospital gown.

Getting her brother’s blood out of her fur was easily one of the hardest things Pidge had ever made herself do. In some odd way, it felt like betrayal.

After she’d been scrubbed and poked and prodded, she was given a room close to the med bay, where they could monitor her. The room itself was lonelier than the dying city had been.

When Pidge was finally left alone to her own thoughts and devices, one thought took precedence over every other, and it was unwanted in the worst sort of way.

I am alive and my family is not.

What a cruel fate — outliving your parents and your older brother. Afraid of what was to come, Pidge bowed her head and cried for every lost life she had left behind.

*

Shiro was persistent in the worst way possible.

Every day, he showed up to accompany Pidge places; to the cafeteria, to the library, to the med bay, to her own room. At first, she’d done her damndest to ignore him. It was humiliating enough to have been found in the state she had been, but it was even worse to have to look at him and remember that he was also the one who had taken her away from the death she had wanted to die.

Nonetheless, he was adamant on staying around her. It became difficult to ignore the person who held doors for you or introduced you to people or put you in social situations where not talking was considered rude instead of necessary. Pidge was pushed from cold silence to grudging conversation in a matter of days.

(She tried to convince herself it wasn’t because when he smiled as she picked up the conversation to take it somewhere, he looked a little like her brother when he had found a flaw in a textbook. Gleeful and excited.)

But it didn’t stop there! Oh, no. He’d gone and introduced her to his crew, too, which meant now they came around more often. Tiptoe though they might around her, because she was still ticking like a bomb waiting to go off. Pidge became unwilling acquaintances with three more people.

Keith was Shiro’s younger brother, a hotheaded young Galra who shot off at the mouth and had a temper that often got him in trouble and in dangerous situations. He was the opposite of Shiro in so many ways, right down to his constant frown, that Pidge wondered if they could really be siblings at all. She and Matt had often been mistaken for twins, despite their three year age difference.

His mate, and partner in crime, was an Altean named Lance. He was just as mouthy, although his snark was more sass and often more playful in nature. He and his mate, Keith, often bickered, but Pidge deduced that it was how they showed their affection.

Her favorite by far was the Balmeran named Hunk. He was brilliant, whip-smart and one of the kindest people she had ever met. Although it was hard to get close to him, because they ran on the same wavelength that she and her brother had — and that was just too painful for now.

Pidge often found herself hanging with variations of the group — but Shiro was the only constant, like her solid shadow, a calming force beside her. It was overwhelming to be near such an easy version of family.

She tried to tough it out and be with them. She did. But after the second time they were all together, it became too much.

The trigger was sudden and unbidden. Lance and Keith had paused in their bickering to gaze lovingly at each other, caught up in some silly argument over what they wanted to eat for dinner. Hunk was talking, or trying to talk, mechanics with Pidge, and Shiro was sitting at her side, watching like an approving parent.

It was all too much. Too familiar. She could hear the screams echoing in her ears, could taste the blood and ash on her tongue. Her brother had let her borrow his book on Altean mechanics the night before it all happened. That same book had crumbled away to dust at her feet when she’d stumbled to crouch at her mother’s side.

Pidge stood with an audible, wet sort of gasp. Everyone stopped, but not her mind. No, her mind was filled with death and decay and the sickening sort of guilt that came with being the only one out of hundreds to survive.

“Pidge?” Hunk asked, trailing off. Lance and Keith look away from one another and over to her.

It’s all so much.

The overwhelming urge to flee hits her, and she stumbles in the direction where her room was, where she could hide and scream and beat her fists on the wall until her claws broke and she could bleed. Just like all of them had.

She presses her hands to her ears. They’re all up on their feet before she can make them stop, make them stay, make them leave her alone. All of them are speaking, all of them are asking things of her — all of them, except for Shiro.

A hand comes up to rest on her shoulder, and it’s like all of the rest of the world goes quiet.

“Pidge,” Shiro said, and she can feel herself fracturing.

“I can’t.” She gasped.

She expects to be asked to explain herself. She expects there to be more words, but she can’t put words to the feeling of ash and blood and flame clogging her throat. She can’t make them understand the guilt that she wears like a second skin.

But then she’s being lifted up into strong arms. For a moment, she struggles, but then Shiro is nuzzling her ears and it’s so familiar that she relaxes with a wet sob into his chest. After that, the tears that have become plentiful in these few days return in full force.

Pidge is carried back to her room, but Shiro doesn’t put her down. Instead, he climbed his way into her bed, nestling her smaller body close to his and holding her the way a lover might. Her ugly sobbing turned to weeping, giving way to weak exhaustion.

“You will not feel this way forever.” His voice was close to her ear, making it flick back to brush against his cheek.

Good, she thought, because I am broken and if I break anymore I will turn to dust.

“You aren’t alone, Pidge. You will never be alone.”

“How aren’t I alone?” She argued, her gaze clouded with liquid anguish. “I have lost everything. Everything. I have no family, no home. I’d say I’m pretty alone.”

The male Galra was quiet for a time, rubbing his cheek against her ear. His silence was not malicious; simply thoughtful.

“I am here.” He offered after she had settled back into the horrible spiral of death and dead and dying and guilt.

“What?” Pidge was bewildered.

“I am here,” Shiro said again. She could feel his smile, soft and timid, against her head. “I will not leave you.”

“You cannot stop death, Shiro.” She said, resigned.

“No,” he agreed, pulling back a bit. His fingers caught just under her chin and she found herself looking up into the same grey eyes that had pulled her from her stupor the first time. “But I can promise to be here for as long as I can.”

Let me in, his gaze screamed, stealing the breath from her lungs. Let me show you how I will stay.

She didn’t want to. All of her instincts warned her to push him away, to turn him to the door and order him out. It was logic now. Get too close to people and it would kill you to watch them die. She had already died a hundred times over — one more would fracture her beyond repair.

But another part of her was drawn to his soft reassurance and his willingness to help her heal.

Put me back together, that part of her begged. Put me back together and ask me to be unbroken.

“You promise?” Her words are whispered, afraid to be loud in case someone heard and came to rip them away again.

Shiro’s smile is the soft sheets of her childhood bed. His eyes are the grey of the dusk in the summer in her village. His closeness is the balm to every ache that had seeped into her bones and weighed her down. “I promise.”

Pidge had never believed anything more in her life.

Vi edges Sevika or vice versa please?

NSFW

~~~

It wasn’t very often that Vi got to be in this position. 

Sevika was beneath her, wanting and willing. She’d taken her arm off, set it on the bedside table, leaving her more vulnerable than she usually bothered to be. Vi had her undressed, clothes tossed to the side. She was beautiful, so Vi tells her so. It earns a scoff, a flush. 

“I mean it,” Vi murmurs, shifting to settle between her legs, burying her face against Sevika’s neck to press a kiss to her pulse. She smiles when Sevika tilts her head a little, unable to help herself. “Let me make you feel good?”

“Yeah,” Sevika breathes, her breath rustling her hair, and Vi presses one last kiss to her neck before she pulls back. 

“I’m in charge,” she tells Sevika, who had a terrible habit of getting impatient and taking over. 

Sevika narrows her eyes. “We’ll see.” She says. 

This is how Sevika ends up exactly where she should be, if you asked Vi. Her hand tied to the bedpost, flushed and panting, her chest heaving with every breath. She was a pleasant pink color in the cheeks, her eyes hazy. 

Although, right now, she had her teeth grit and was glaring daggers at Vi. 

Vi, who lay between her legs with a smug expression, lips smeared with Sevika’s arousal and fingers hovering just above her aching clit. 

“Violet,” Sevika’s voice was breathless, wanting, and Vi’s eyelashes flicker. 

“Hmm?” She hums, teasing just her fingertips over the hood of her clit, gaze flicking up to Sevika when she chokes on a breath, thoughts interrupted. 

“You - are teasing,” Sevika’s voice is wrecked. Vi licks her lower lip. She wanted to see how much more ruined she could make it. 

“Am I?” She murmurs, leaning in and pressing her lips just to the left of her clit. She chuckles softly when Sevika kicks a leg, lifting her hand to press her thigh into the sheets, holding Sevika firm. 

“Ye - es, oh fuck,” 

Vi’s tongue traces a circle around the very tip of her clit, her gaze sliding back up to watch her lover writhe and moan softly. Hm. That wouldn’t do. Her tongue slips against the underside, and she sucks gently, closing her eyes when it earns her a full throated moan. 

Sevika was so close. Vi could feel it in the way she shakes, in the way the muscles in her thighs flex, in the way her abdomen trembles with each breath. She waits until Sevika is grinding into her tongue, until she’s starting to lose herself in the slow slide toward orgasm - and then she pulls back. 

Vi licks her lips, grinning when Sevika’s sweet little moan turns to a growl of frustration. 

“Violet!” Sevika snarls, and her grin only widens. 

“Yes?” She asks, innocent and sweet. Any lesser woman would have shriveled beneath the withering glare Sevika fixes her with. 

“Knock it off,” Sevika growls. 

“Alright, alright,” Vi laughs, pressing a messy kiss to her thigh. She feels Sevika relax again, giving a pissy sigh, and she bites back another snicker. 

Instead, she kisses her clit once more, earning a sensitive jolt, and traces two fingers through her folds. Sevika was so wet, so soft… Vi faces no resistance as she pushes two fingers into her. She’s warm and aching, squeezing around Vi like she could keep her there if she tried hard enough. 

“Fuck, baby,” Vi murmurs, nipping her thigh gently. She revels in the little gasp she earns, in the slight gush down her wrist it gives. She makes a wanting noise, resting her cheek against a muscular thigh to watch herself fuck Sevika open on her fingers. 

“Look at you…” Vi breathes, watching Sevika drip, feeling her flutter around her fingers when Vi curls her fingertips and rubs against the sensitive little spot she knew drove Sevika crazy. “Fuck, baby. So pretty for me.”

“Vi…” It’s a moan now, it’s full of desire and pleasure. Sevika cants her hips into Vi’s fingers. “More, Violet. More,”

Vi smiles to herself, shifting to angle her wrist, adding another finger slowly and thrusting her fingers in and out. Slow and methodical. She wanted to feel Sevika come apart around her fingers. 

The slow pace drives Sevika crazy faster than Vi expects, and soon her moans are higher in pitch, breathier, her head tossed back. Soon she’s shuddering, warning Vi with a broken moan that she’s close, she’s almost - 

Vi pulls her fingers out, watches her clench around nothing, and nearly gets kicked right in the face. 

“You fucker!” Sevika howls, fury blazing in her gaze as she sits up a little, glaring at Vi. 

Vi laughs, hanging off the side of the bed, narrowly avoiding getting kicked out of orbit. “You want me to fuck you, baby, you just gotta ask.” 

Sevika stares at her, chest heaving, still flushed and worked up. Dripping and needy. Vi drinks it in, desire darkening her gaze, and she gets the privilege of watching Sevika falter beneath it. She gets the absolute wet dream of watching Sevika lay back down, spread her legs, and beg softly, “please, Vi.” 

Vi sucks in a breath, climbing off the bed to get the strap. “Fuck, Sevika, the things you do to me,” her laugh is disjointed. 

It takes two minutes to pull off her clothes, toss them aside, and wriggle herself into the strap harness. She picks an attachment at random - although the soft noise Sevika makes at the sight of it confirms her choice - and climbs back into bed. She settles between those thick thighs again, wrapping her hands around wide hips, and nudges the head of the dildo against wet folds. 

“Don’t tease,” the plea is soft and on the verge of breaking. 

Vi softens, leaning down to kiss Sevika, cupping her cheek with a soft noise against her lips. Sevika melts beneath her, and Vi nibbles her lower lip.

“I’m done teasing,” she breathes, promises, and sinks into Sevika slowly and gently. 

She stays close, and gets to feel the breath that comes with the sweet moan that tumbles from Sevika’s lips. She gets to kiss the tail end of it from her lips, feel her muscular thighs tighten around Vi’s waist, holding her close so she won’t run again. 

And, true to her word, she doesn’t tease anymore. She sets a slow, driving pace at first, just to let Sevika adjust. She was the one to give, usually, and Vi didn’t like being mean. Mischievous, sure, but never mean. She kisses the slight crease from Sevika’s brow, murmuring praise (good girl, so pretty, relax for me precious) as she picks up the pace little by little. 

Soft whimpers become whines become full throated moans. Vi stays close for all of it, drinking it in, letting it drive her crazy. Sevika was making a mess of their thighs, pressing her chest up against Vi, moving her hips for more, better, harder. 

Then Vi gets clumsy fingers on her clit and Sevika doesn’t even have a moment to process that she’s coming before she does. It pulls a throaty moan from her, eyes pricking with tears, and Vi slows down enough to let her feel how she squeezes around the toy as she comes. 

“Good girl,” Vi breathes against her jaw, slowing to a stop, kissing away the beginnings of tears. “Yeah. How was that, baby?”

Sevika laughs, shaky and unmoored, blinking tearfully. “You’re so mean,” she complains, and Vi laughs too. 

“No way,” She grins, pulling out gently. She soothes the wince she gets with a kiss to the side of Sevika’s lips. “You loved it, didn’t you?”

“Fucker,” Sevika mutters. 

Vi snorts, pulling back to climb off the bed and take the strap off. She deposits it on the floor to be dealt with later, climbing back in the bed to sit and look at Sevika. 

Sevika, who now had her hand free from the ties on her wrist. 

Vi’s eyes widen, and she gets two seconds to process the sharp grin and glint of warning in Sevika’s eyes before she’s suddenly being pinned to the bed, a yelp startled out of her. 

“Your turn, you little bitch,” Sevika purrs against her lips, and Vi laughs, succumbing to her fate.

religious experience

Sit down in the waves

Let the water wash over you

Let it crash over your head

Surround you

Fill your lungs

Let it whisper sweet truths to you

Let it promise you eternity

Feel the sand scratch over your legs

Feel it beneath your fingernails

Let the salt sit on your tongue

Hang on your breath

Sting your throat

Let the ocean wash away your worries

Feel the tide drag you into deep solitude

This is your place now

Sat at the bottom

Safe in the sand

Singing songs of worship

With salt-rasped words

No need for oxygen

Let the ocean fill you with peace

As the days drag on into sweet oblivion

Come and sit with me

Safe and sound

Come and sit with the crabs

Come and feel the rocks on your feet

Come worship with me the haunting harmony of the waves

A never ending eternity

Your klance fics give me life

Thank you :)

weird asks that say a lot

in

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

7. earbuds or headphones?

8. movies or tv shows?

9. favorite smell in the summer?

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

12. name of your favorite playlist?

13. lanyard or key ring?

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

18. ideal weather?

19. sleeping position?

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

21. obsession from childhood?

22. role model?

23. strange habits?

24. favorite crystal?

25. first song you remember hearing?

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

28. five songs to describe you?

29. best way to bond with you?

30. places that you find sacred?

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

32. top five favorite vines?

33. most used phrase in your phone?

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

35. average time you fall asleep?

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

38. lemonade or tea?

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

41. last person you texted?

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

44. favorite scent for soap?

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

47. favorite type of cheese?

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

51. current stresses?

52. favorite font?

53. what is the current state of your hands?

54. what did you learn from your first job?

55. favorite fairy tale?

56. favorite tradition?

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

62. seven characters you relate to?

63. five songs that would play in your club?

64. favorite website from your childhood?

65. any permanent scars?

66. favorite flower(s)?

67. good luck charms?

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

70. left or right handed?

71. least favorite pattern?

72. worst subject?

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

82. pc or console?

83. writing or drawing?

84. podcasts or talk radio?

84. barbie or polly pocket?

85. fairy tales or mythology?

86. cookies or cupcakes?

87. your greatest fear?

88. your greatest wish?

89. who would you put before everyone else?

90. luckiest mistake?

91. boxes or bags?

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

93. nicknames?

94. favorite season?

95. favorite app on your phone?

96. desktop background?

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

98. favorite historical era?