..... then post them


Here, have a couple more - Todoroki and Bakugou might as well have my favorite friendship outside of the squad tbh

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Sanvers passionately making out. Like, intensely. Not like, penetrational sex. But like, intense. Catch my drift?

She needs Maggie’s lips on hers like she needs oxygen.

Nothing bad happened – not today, at least – but she had to leave extra early this morning, had to leave when Maggie was still wrapped up in their blankets, in their bed. 

She still can’t quite believe it’s their blankets, their bed.

But it is – theirs – and their blankets were warm, their bed was warm. Hell, Maggie’s mostly naked body was warm, and that was the part that was so damn hard for Alex to leave.

So now? After an eighteen hour shift and a six hour text chain of how badly they missed each other, wanted each other, needed each other?

Alex needs Maggie’s lips on hers like she needs oxygen.


More than she needs oxygen.

“Can I kiss you?” she asks the moment she opens the door to her home. Their home.

“Of course, Danvers,” Maggie’s response is immediate, but her brow is furrowed and her head is tilted in confusion.

“No,” Alex clarifies, kicking off her boots and putting both guns in her waistband down. “I mean like… really kiss you.”

Maggie bites her lip as her breath hitches, her pupils suddenly dilating, her body suddenly melting.

“Please do,” she husks, and Alex doesn’t wait another moment, because after receiving Maggie’s invitation, she doesn’t think she’s capable of waiting another moment.

They both part their lips almost automatically, but there’s nothing automatic about the way Maggie makes her swoon, the way Maggie’s palm cups her elbow, her comfort spot, her passion spot, her stabilization spot.

Stabilized, that is, until Alex urges her body back until the backs of her thighs hit the couch, and when Alex hesitates to check if the progression is alright with Maggie, it’s barely for a full second, because Maggie is suddenly moaning into her open mouth, and her hands are suddenly everywhere.

Alex’s hips, the hem of her shirt. Her elbows, her shoulders. For a moment, her ass. For another moment, her breasts.

Alex writhes with each movement, with each time Maggie can’t make up her mind, because she wants to touch Alex everywhere, everywhere, all at once.

And Alex wants the same.

She doesn’t take Maggie’s shirt off – she doesn’t want to take their lips apart long enough to do that – but she does murmur into her mouth while her hands cup her cheeks, run down her shoulders, the small of her back, encouraging their bodies closer together.

“I missed you today,” she whispers, and Maggie’s mouth turns upward into a smile even as she flicks her tongue across Alex’s bottom lip.

“Mmm, did you, Danvers? I couldn’t tell,” she teases, which has the exact affect she wants it to.

Alex practically growls, and Maggie lets herself be putty in Alex’s hands, one of which suddenly finds hers, interlacing their fingers as she softens their kiss, slows their tempo, but somehow increases their intensity.

“I love you,” Alex tells her now, and this time, Maggie has no sass. Because this time, Maggie swoons as hot tears spring to her eyes.

She rises to deepen their newly slowed kiss, trying to put everything she feels for Alex into the contact between their bodies, the intermingling of their breath.

She succeeds.

Alex swoons, this time.

“I love you back,” Maggie tells her, and they don’t stop holding hands until long after they’ve stopped kissing.