Hold On To Your Heart for polytropic for purimgifts

[alexseanchai]

Hey, look, it is still Femslash February!

Title: I Can Hear This Beat
Rating: R
Summary: The first time is an experiment.
Pairings: Annie/Britta
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 520




The first time is an experiment.

"I've never had a lesbian experience," Annie mentions offhandedly. "Isn't college the time for sexual experimentation?

"My only lesbian experience is an awkward kiss with a straight girl I barely knew," Britta reminds her. "And..." A long pause; Britta nerving herself up, Annie thinks. "Maybe it's different, when it's friends."

"Sex usually is," Annie says. She puts down her Uno cards, moves the deck and discard piles out of the way, and scoots across to Britta. Her kiss is hesitant at first, but then so is Britta's.

"How am I doing?" Annie asks.

"All good," Britta reassures her. "Just say if you want to stop."

She doesn't want to stop.

Kissing is nice, but Annie is no longer a teenager, no longer satisfied with kisses alone, and she wants to know what Britta's breasts feel like. Annie slides Britta's jacket off her shoulders, lets Britta reciprocate with Annie's cardigan, and then Britta is unbuttoning Annie's blouse which isn't quite how Annie envisioned this proceeding but okay.

"It doesn't have to be perfect," Britta points out. "Trying for perfection—especially on something new!—is just setting yourself up to fail."

"Therapize less, sex more," Annie says, and slips out of her blouse. She fumbles at the back of her bra, plain tan because she hadn't expected to be having sex today, and Britta undoes it for her, and for the first time since high school gym Annie is bare-breasted in front of another woman. For the first time—for the first time ever, Annie realizes—someone is looking at those breasts as though—

"You're beautiful," Britta says.

(Yes, that. Not not-good-enough.)

"You're overdressed," Annie says. "Let me see you." She takes the bottom hem of Britta's top and tugs upward, and Britta's bra is simple white, front-close easy-open, but no more 'I meant to have sex today' than Annie's.

Britta's gorgeous.

Annie says so, and Britta smiles. "You can touch," she says, and Annie's all over that: they're soft, and tweaking Britta's nipples doesn't seem to do much but a little fingernail around the areola makes Britta gasp. Annie checks and Britta's still smiling.

Britta's hands are on Annie's back now—"Ow!" Annie yelps.

Britta pulls back. "Sorry," she says. "No scratching you?"

"No scratching me," Annie says. "You seem to like it, though...?"

"Scratch me all you want," Britta confirms, so Annie digs in her fingernail a bit more, tracing a wobbly line down to Britta's jeans.

It's suddenly absurd that they're both half dressed, but Annie has done the masturbation-while-clothed thing before, and the angle's weird but unzipping the jeans cures that, and now Britta's feeling up Annie's breasts while Annie's feeling up Britta's vulva, Britta pinches Annie's nipple and Annie retaliates by thumbing Britta's clitoris and Britta reacts by pinching harder, a happy vicious cycle, a virtuous cycle even, and that thought sends Annie into giggles, collapsing against Britta. There's nothing wrong with what they're doing. The CJLS says so. The CCAR has said so for years.

"Ticklish?" Britta asks.

"Happy," Annie says.

They get around to getting Annie's skirt and Britta's jeans off. Eventually.




Title: Between Two Lungs It Was Released
Rating: R
Summary: The second time is almost accidental.
Pairings: Annie/Britta
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 460




The second time is almost accidental.

Britta wakes with a warm body against her, which is always postlude and often prelude to sex. She gets up and brushes her teeth while running the water to warm it for her shower, which is horrific waste of water she knows but the other choice is wasting gallons while she shivers under the spray. She's spat and rinsed and stripped down and is about to turn the shower on when Annie comes in, eyes half open.

"Oh," Annie says. "Sorry." She turns to go.

"Stay," Britta says before she realizes she means to. Annie blinks at her. Britta tries to pull together what she means, and it comes out "We can shower together."

Annie smiles.

There's certain things that need to be done first, of course, but it's only a few minutes of Britta standing outside the door trying not to feel self-conscious about her nakedness before Annie opens the bathroom door and tugs her inside for a long hard kiss.

It's been a long time since Britta showered with anyone, and that was more fast wet sex, then soaping up individually afterward. Annie goes straight for the shampoo bottle, lathering up Britta's hair. It's like a head massage.

Britta squirts body wash onto her loofah and scrubs Annie into jasmine-scented quivers and moans. Slowly. Slowly, to maximize the erotic potential of the scratch of the recycled-plastic mesh. Britta's familiar with that feeling, but—oooh—not with the feeling of small hands rubbing body wash onto her skin. Slick and smooth and oh oh oh.

The apartment didn't come with a hose between the shower head and its mount; that's Britta's installation (she'll replace the head with the original when she moves out), and Annie clearly sees its usefulness, because she takes it down to spray Britta from all angles. There's a brief, slippery tug of war over who gets to rinse Annie, ending with Annie sitting on the edge of the tub with legs spread, the shower curtain half out and water getting all over the floor, and both of them laughing helplessly while Britta holds the spray on Annie's clit.

Annie's laughter turns soon enough to gasping, to clutching at Britta's arm and hip for support through the shudders. "Okay," she says, pushing aside the shower head and leaning against Britta, "put that on the bucket list and then check it off."

"Why do you think I put it in?" Britta asks. She tries to get the shower head back on the wall without moving Annie, fails, and lets it hang, spraying water almost straight down the drain. She'll send an apology donation to water.org later; right now she slides down to Annie's level to kiss her like right now will last forever.




Title: It Seems You've Set It Running Free
Rating: R
Summary: The third time is not an experiment or an accident. Nor is it the third time.
Pairings: Annie/Britta
Warnings: None. Content notes: BDSM, LARP
Word Count: 480




The third time is not an experiment or an accident. Nor is it the third time.

"So what exactly were you doing with the Inspector that week?" Geneva asks Lily, smirking at the woman. "Because I simply cannot imagine how the Sergeant could have come by certain information if not from someone close to the Inspector..."

"I don't have to tell you a damn thing," Lily snarls, tugging fruitlessly at the (padded) cuffs keeping her wrists and ankles together. "Not one single thing, you hear me?" Her hair (too long for the part, but Britta won't cut it for roleplay) falls into her eyes, and Geneva tucks the lock back behind Lily's ear. "Don't touch me!"

(Annie pauses for a moment. It's hard to read Britta like this. But 'don't touch me' isn't 'pepperoni'.)

"You're quite pretty," Geneva muses. "I don't think I'm seeing enough of you." The quantum spanner, carefully calibrated (that is, scissors), can cut through (Goodwill) clothing but not skin. Geneva cuts along the left side of the blouse so that it falls open off-center, then decides that's still not enough and cuts the right side so the front comes off altogether, baring Lily's breasts but not shoulders or back. Geneva takes Lily's chin in her other hand and tilts it up so Lily has to look at Geneva while Geneva's looking at her, and Geneva likes the view. She'll pay for it if Lily gets out of the cuffs, of course, but Lily has nothing on her that could serve as a lockpick. Geneva checked. (The key's on Britta's bedside table.)

Geneva runs the tip of the spanner in a circle around Lily's breast, leaving a thin white line behind. "Stop it," Lily says, her breath coming harder. "Stop."

"I don't think I will," Geneva answers. "I think I like you like this. Entirely at my mercy." She shoves Lily down so Lily's right side is on the floor of the BOOTH and Lily's left leg is easier to get at, to cut the leggings off her. Lily squirms, yelps—

"Pepperoni!"

Annie drops the scissors and accent and dives for the handcuff key. "What do you need?" she asks Britta, already popping the cuffs open.

"Check if that drew blood," Britta says, and more carefully Annie picks up the scissors and cuts a little further so she can see.

There's a little blood, and Annie says so. "Sorry," she adds.

Britta props herself on an elbow to look at it herself. "I've had worse paper cuts," she says. "Get me a bandaid and pay more attention for the rest."

Annie jumps up, heading for the first-aid kit she knows Britta keeps in the bathroom. "There's a rest?" she asks, finding the right size bandaid.

"Hell yes there's a rest," Britta says. "You got me this worked up, you're getting me the rest of the way."