#Focus on what you can control and don't sweat the rest

[twwcs]

the library scene warms my heart that they are still in each other’s side (lets just forgot the whole he needs my help with tutor and i need her help for tutor excuse cause i know they just have and neeeeddd to be close) ughh

"Dinner later?" He inquires, brow raising as he's starting to walk away. Walking backwards away from the table, his eyes on you the entire time. "Sure, I'll meet you there.." You rest your head on your hand, watching him go from where you're sitting. Watching that look on his face. A sort of satisfaction in that he's leaving but already thinking about when he gets to see you next.

just kiss already count : 1

"He's a great friend... isn't he...” He says it with a little bit of annoyance in his voice, thinking about how you two have gotten really close as friends and he didn't even know it. "Yeah he's really sweet," You smile, not really noticing his expression. You want Miguel to know that you can get along with his friends too and you can be a part of his life. "He's funny..." His brow twitches just a bit. He doesn't know how to feel about the fact that you two are friends in and out of the tutoring club. And that you're calling him sweet. And funny.

Oh honey you officially make this man brain restless with your wording😭. Just kiss already count : 2

Maybe you're just so focused on being his friend to prove to Miguel you can be part of his friend group. Miguel can feel his patience slipping. How you seem so oblivious to the fact that Peter is a huge flirt and that Peter was flirting with you earlier when he invited you to the bar. But he's been Peter's friend for years, of course he knows the girls flock around him.

LIKE WHATT JUST PLEASE DONT BE SO CRYPTIC GIVE THIS MAN HIS BREAKK

The topic change gives him some relief. Grateful to think about something other than the image of Peter taking you home tonight. He lifts his hand, flexing a few fingers. "It's fine. Doesn't really hurt much right now. It's a good reminder to not lose my cool again... " "Yeah, that locker room hates to see you comin'..." You joke with a smile. Shaking your head.

Finally just focus on you two, let’s start from there. Just kiss already count :3

Miguel can only listen and watch this interaction between the two of you. It's like a nightmare come to life. And he's feeling claustrophobic in this crowded place with all these people. He just wants to take your hand and go back to campus, go back to your dorm, go back to the library.

Okay sir respectfully why didnt you?. But for real it’s already written there but it’s so frustrating that the reader wanna be close and fit in with miguel’s circle but honey i know you meant well but didnt you see this guy right here is a bout to combust

'Well you all played very well..." You hum. Looking between the two boys. You can't help but notice Miguel's body language. Thinking he must just be upset that he didn't get to play because of his cast. But he did very well on the sidelines.

It’s not that ball you need to be concerned. You succeed on making them both oblivious on one another . Just kiss already count : 4

You giggle softly at Peter's joke and his obvious love for attention. Loving the way you can so casually hang out with Miguel and his friends for the first time ever. Miguel clenches his jaw, sipping his water and trying to keep his cool.

I cant defend you any more girlie, i cantttrttr

"Um..." You're thinking. You don't really do this that often and you're finally getting to hang out with Miguel and his friends. What the hell... "Sure!" Peter flashes that charming smile at you and Miguel can feel his control slipping again. Now he's buying you drinks?

Mig, jealousy looks good on you <3

"I'm sweating..." You huff, moving to get up off the bed and his arms come to steady you. "Woah woah slow down, sweetheart..." The words ooze off his lips.

Just kiss already count : 5

Your mind filled with the thoughts of being Miguel's again. You're friends with his friends like any girlfriend would be. So what's stopping him? What's stopping both of you from just being together again? Since you've proven to him, you can fit in.

Your hips slot between his legs, standing between them and getting closer. Fingers clenching into his shirt and smashing your lips against his. His fingers splay out, shock and surprise. His eyes wide and heart seemingly stops. You're... kissing him... you...

"No baby... you need to go to sleep... you're drunk.." He whispers, feeling so weak, his hands running up your warm bare thighs, like medicine. His cast is slightly scratchy on your thigh. Finally your body on his, your warmths feeding off of each other. "No please... say you want me, please you have to, don't you want to?" You whine. Leaning over him and kissing his cheek, burying your face in his neck. He's speechless. Doesn't know what to say or think. He thought you were done all this time. He thought you were pining after Parker.

"I want you... I do want you..." He whispers before his mind can even think. His hands falling from your thighs and flat on the bed. It feels wrong to touch you this way. His love for you overshadows his own selfish need. You won't remember this in the morning.

I HAVE BEEN SOBBING FOR THE PAST 30 MINUTES.

I Think I'll Keep You 5

a/n: Thank you again for your patience! I hope you guys enjoy and the next chapter is already underway and will come very soon! And some more art and bots coming out as well so look out for that!

w.c.: 10.2k NSFW MINORS DNI

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5

“...accurate and efficient methods of decoding… further aiding us in understanding… um… complicated genetic codes… pushing preservation and conservation. Uhh… yeah.” Miguel sighs, sitting up in his seat and peering over your arm as you type away on his laptop. Sitting at a table in the middle of the library during tutoring hours. Your fingers typing for him as he speaks what he wants written. He can’t type. Not with his right hand totally out of commission. So he’s come to your open tutoring hours. And now you have a student to work on so you can get paid and he can get help with his work. It’s Saturday and the two of you have been practically connected at the hip for the past two days.

You woke up beside him yesterday afternoon after that late night emergency room run. Lazily, sleepily taking the rest of the day slowly. Walking across campus to get food since all you both ate the whole night was a few pieces of candy. Smiling and talking, shoes splashing in shallow puddles along the concrete. A refreshing feeling having moved on from the mess of the last few weeks. The bubble has popped. That bubble of sex and ignorance that felt so great for the both of you. Sitting in the dining hall, among the hardwood and tall, ancient windows of your old university; looking over the school grounds turned fall shades and the autumn breeze blowing in through the window. Trying to talk about anything that won’t add any more stress or tension. No talk of friends, or family, not even school. Really just talking about whatever comes into your mind. And the conversation is just so easy. It’s different to spend time with him outside of the dorm room. It didn’t happen very often before. A lot of your conversations were pillowtalk. It’s different talking about the other parts of your life that don’t take place right after doing the deed. Miguel is funny. And he’s a good listener when his mind is clear and he’s focused on you. Only you. 

Feels like things are going back to normal. Well not how it was before. A new normal. 

“I think it sounds good… it’s a little awkward in the intro still but we can fix it up later…” You assure him, fixing a few typos and reading it over. The library is nice and quiet as always. You didn’t have any other students come this afternoon so you have time to focus on this and help Miguel since you know he can’t really do it himself right now.

“I don’t know… feels like I’m missing something. I’m gonna include the research but it doesn't feel like enough.” He sighs, leaning his elbows on the table, pushing his frames further up the bridge of his nose and looking over the notes in his hand. His knee is bouncing under the table and you can feel the vibrations of it in your seat. He’s applying to the Alchemax grant program. A huge grant with a long essay to go with it, multiple letters of recommendation and a personal profile piece. Tens of thousands of dollars for his research project. And he’d basically be an intern there. Able to use their facilities and labs to complete the job and create a brand new study of his own. It would start right after graduation and almost definitely lead to a great job at Alchemax Industries. He sighs, leaning back in his seat, draping his arm over the back of your chair. 

“You okay?” You hum, observing his clearly distressed behavior. His knee bouncing, his brow furrowed, the sighs. He looks over at you, in your eyes. Don’t lie. “Yeah I’m fine… just… want to get this right.” 

You nod. Knowing that’s not all there is to it. But accepting it for now. “Well, maybe you should include some of your… personality…traits…” You suggest with a small smile, knowing that it will be like pulling teeth with him, clasping your hands in your lap and looking over at him next to you. 

“Like what. I mean… Tyler knows me. He’s the one that told me to apply.” [Tyler Stone. President and Ceo of Alchemax Industries.] He sighs, pushing his glasses up on his head, his dark curls becoming a little messy with the metal pushed through them, and rubbing the sides of his nose with his fingers. The ache of wearing his glasses for a while when he usually doesn’t like wearing them at all. But he’s worn them more often the past few days. He can see you more clearly now.  

“Yeah but he’s not the only one who’s gonna be working with you or deciding if you get the job or not. You want people to know who you are… know the kind of person you are. More often than not, that’s more important than the research when it comes to something like this. I mean, you’re not just applying for a grant, you’re applying for a job…” You explain kindly. He looks up, in your eyes, his eyes raking over your pretty face. He loves feeling like he can be close to you again. He loves feeling like he knows what’s going on in your head. Or maybe that’s just his need for control seeping in. Like venom in warm blood. Just sitting next to you like this. Even if he hasn’t so much as kissed you since everything went down. It’s only been nearly two weeks but it feels like an eternity. He wants to so badly. But he reminds himself that this is how things are right now. He messed up and he’s getting a second chance. He won’t take your forgiveness for granted. “Yeah, you’re right.” He admits, dropping the graphs and charts on the table.

“Maybe talk about family… inspirations… personal goals. People like that kind of stuff. People also want to know that you can be a part of something bigger than yourself…” You say, fingers brushing over the keys and ready to type what he says. “Uh…” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, trying to pull this out of his brain. He doesn’t really want to talk about his family. Doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction of being considered inspiration. But his upbringing and his parents’ names alone have opened a lot of doors for him in the past. His fingers fidget on the back of your chair, catching a few strands of your hair, playing with it so softly that you don’t even feel it. And he watches the side of your face to make sure you don’t notice, your eyes focused on the computer screen. Curling the strands around his finger and getting lost in touching you. Hanging on desperately to this morsel of touch. Knowing he probably shouldn’t but he just can’t help himself.

“I guess… we could say I grew up watching my parents with their business. But that’s more… financial services. When I was born, OLI was just taking off and now… I’ve watched them build it into what it is today.” He explains. You keep typing, writing it down in the notes to keep it straight. You can hear the sigh in his voice like he hates to be talking about it. You don’t know why. Mostly because he’s never spoken about this before. But if he’s applying for such a big opportunity then it’s important to include.

“OLI, I’ve heard of that, I think…” You look over at him, unsure what that stands for but you know you’ve heard that acronym before, or maybe you’ve seen it somewhere? 

“O’hara Legacy Investments.” He says with a nod and sigh, a level of disdain in his tone. He leans forward, his mind still on this essay. On beefing it up with info that might secure him this grant. Even though he’s confident his connections will get him in. There’s always a chance things might not go his way. He wants to prepare for every possible outcome. He hates to feel out of control. You stop typing. That sounds like investment banking. Like the kind of thing that makes people billionaires. 

“Is that the… that tall building downtown?” You ask, looking over at him and he nods, a blank stare in his eyes as he’s looking down at the research notes. “Your family runs that?”

“Yep.” He sighs, not offering more information so you don’t ask for more.

“Okay sooo… how would that influence your work at Alchemax?” You prompt, trying to veer back on course. You can tell he’s losing steam, you’ve been at this a while. 

“So I guess it’s not really the same as what I would be doing at Alchemax but… Watching how that runs… how many people it takes to keep something running like that. I guess something about leading teams of people working towards a goal…” He keeps thinking out loud and you keep typing, interpreting his words into organized notes and ideas. “So.. maybe about you as a leader? You think you can be a good leader…” 

“Yeah. I think so… and soccer, we could include that too.” He says, perking up and sitting up a bit straighter. Although the topic of soccer does bring his anxiety levels up a bit. Watching you type while playing with a piece of frayed material on his cast. “Yeah, captain of the soccer team, sports is always something they want to hear. If you’re a leader… organizer. And coming from SU especially, they love to see it.” You agree, typing and compiling the thoughts that come to mind. “And to know you can work in a team…” 

Miguel nods. Feeling relieved that you’re able to help him with this. He did all the more technical notes for it over the past few weeks. Organized lots of thoughts and data to start the writing process. Then he broke his fingers and that put a wrench in the process. It’s due next week and without you he’d be screwed. But it works out sort of perfectly, and a little selfishly, that now he’s spending more time with you because of that. “I think also…” 

He starts. You look over, ready to type whatever he suggests. “I’m an older brother too… that’s… I don’t know…” He mumbles. You find yourself smiling. “I feel like… maybe being a leader in that way is different.” 

“It’s very different, yes…” You nod, looking back at the laptop screen, a smile dancing on your lips. “Maybe something about… protecting… looking out for those that are important to me. Or being a good role model I guess…” He sighs. Thinking. About Gabriel. About you. Pretty much the two most important people in his life. I guess I haven’t been a very good role model as of late. 

“Loyalty… role model…” You say and nod. Typing those words in the compilation of notes you’re making in the margins. His knee is still bouncing.

“I also think you’re very passionate…” You say. He looks over at you, the side of your face, watching you type more things in the notes. Trying to create a section of his essay that can portray him as not just another applicant. “I think I’m just generally angry… I don’t really think before I do things…” He scoffs, shaking his head and leaning forward, his arms on the table, his head resting down on his forearms, looking at your pretty face from this angle. You grin and nod, giving him a look. “Yeah but we don’t have to include that… passion works…” 

He laughs through his nose, blinking softly and admiring your face. Watching your pretty eyes, the light of the computer screen reflecting in them, making them especially sparkly. It’s quiet for a moment, just the clicks of keys and fingertips. He thinks, reflecting on all that’s happened in the past few weeks. That thing with Dana keeps coming to mind. That was really a moment of lost control. Is that the passion you’re talking about? That he loses control and can’t get it back until it’s almost too late? He worries about that. Not remembering most of it because he was so angry. It sort of feels like a dream. Especially since he fought with you right after that and then everything went right to shit. 

All he knows is that Dana made it back to his dorm. He knows for a fact nothing happened. He wouldn’t have wanted it anyway because he despises her and she was drunk off her ass. But she did lie on his bed. Her perfume was all over him. And he remembers standing over her and wanting to make her hate him. Just so that she would leave him alone. That’s a level of anger he never wants you to witness, or anyone really for that matter. It scares him a bit now to think of it. All he knows is that if you think he’s loyal, he’ll be loyal as a dog. If you think he’s passionate, he’ll be a raging, burning fire to keep you warm. You think he’s anything, he’ll be that. If you want him to be. 

He fidgets with the fray on his cast. Coming off the blue material. His gaze caught on the little cursive “mine” you wrote. That night in the drug store. When you were both so deliriously tired, sitting in the middle of the floor. Having this on his arm is like a reminder. Or a promise. That maybe you’ll be his or he’ll be yours again. He’ll just have to be patient. His thumb brushes over the word, like making sure the letters won’t fall off, making sure they’re stained into the blue permanently. Do you even remember writing this? He thinks. Or were you so tired it feels like a dream? His bouncing knee still vibrates against your chair. 

“Anything else for today? We did a lot…” You ask, looking over at him. Bringing him out of his thoughts. “No, I think that’s good, thank you… but maybe next week we can finalize things and you can help me edit it?” He asks hopefully. “Yeah definitely, I’ll block out some time for you…” 

He nods, sighing and pulling his glasses off his head. Folding them up in his hand and collecting his papers. You just save the document, debating in your head the words on your tongue. Closing the laptop so he can pack it up in his bag. 

“So… you wanna tell me what’s stressing you out?” You ask, turning in your seat to face him and leaning your elbow on the table, head in your hand. He stops what he’s doing, putting down the stack of notebooks. “You can read my mind…” He smiles. 

“No, you’ve just been bouncing your knee against my chair for the past hour.” You sigh, smiling soft but sympathetic at him. His shoulders slump. “Oh sorry…” He shakes his head, feeling embarrassed for being so obvious, pinching the bridge of his nose in his fingers. 

“It’s okay… Is it the grant? I think your essay will be good enough…” You hum. Noticing all of his distress and not wanting him to be freaking out over something he’s already spent so long working on. “No it’s not… I… I’m really glad you can help me with it. Thank you… I’m just worried about the game tomorrow…” He nods. And it dawns on you. “Ohh…”

“I actually should get going… have a meeting with the coach. Figure out how we’re gonna pull this off…” He sighs, getting up from his seat to gather his things. He’s been wracked with anxiety about the game ever since putting two and two together that he’s out for the next few weeks. It’s against the rules for someone to play with a plaster cast on and he’s nowhere near getting that removed. So the team will have to supplement him. 

“You’re not gonna play are you? You shouldn’t… not with your hand like that.” You insist, watching him get up, pulling on his jacket precariously with his one working hand. He can hear the concern in your voice. “I can’t. It's an instant disqualification… so I have to talk to Coach and maybe I’ll just assistant coach tomorrow, I don’t know…” He sighs, knowing it’ll be a struggle for the team to play without him. And they very well might not win. This is a university proud of its win streak so far. 

“If it hurts, let Coach know… you don’t have to do anything that’s uncomfortable.” You advise softly. Wanting him to be comfortable. Always. That look of care on your face makes him feel a little warm. Making him feel a little soft and fuzzy inside. He can’t remember ever being worried over like that. He clears his throat, trying not to let that feeling get to him too much, shoving his laptop in his bag and zipping it up. “I will… don’t worry about me…” 

He says it but he doesn’t really mean it. Although he doesn't want you to be anxious; he definitely doesn’t need to inflict any more emotional pain on you, he’s done more than enough of that over the past few weeks… he does want you to care. Or it’s more like… once he realized you actually do care, now he doesn’t want to lose that. 

“Just be careful… I know you’ll do well and the team will be fine…” You smile gently. Clicking your pen and watching him getting ready to leave. His bag slung over his shoulder. “Thank you… yeah I just need to chill.” He sighs, moving his hurt hand around absentmindedly to soothe the ache. “Well… the feeling you’re having just means you care. It’s a good feeling, even though it’s scary…” 

He looks in your eyes, down at where you’re still sitting. Feeling struck by your words. You’ve always been so good at that. You always know exactly what to say when he needs to hear it. He hopes to do the same for you one day. If only he can figure out how you manage to do it every time. He just nods in thanks, a renewed sense of relief inside. 

“Dinner later?” He inquires, brow raising as he’s starting to walk away. Walking backwards away from the table, his eyes on you the entire time. 

“Sure, I’ll meet you there…” You rest your head on your hand, watching him go from where you’re sitting. Watching that look on his face. A sort of satisfaction in that he’s leaving but already thinking about when he gets to see you next. He nods. Turning towards the library doors and smiling to himself, making his way out. Sneakers tapping on the hardwood floors of the academic building, sparing you one last glance. Finding your eyes still on him. A stupid sort of giddy feeling in his chest. Lopsided grin on his lips as he leaves the library.

“O’hara! Dude.” Peter’s voice brings him out of his flurry of thoughts. Watching his friend march down the rest of the hall to him. “Where you been? You disappeared again…” Peter chuckles.

“Oh yeah I‘ve just been… busy in the lab and stuff… and my application.” He lies. While it’s true he has been working on his application and piles of homework, he’s also been actively avoiding all of his friends ever since your fight. Unable to handle even the slightest of social interaction. His mind set on you and only you. But he won’t tell Peter that. 

“Dana said you were being crazy or something…” Peter huffs, his brow quirked in disbelief. Miguel’s heart starts to beat a little harder at that. Did Dana tell everyone what happened? Or her version of what happened? “What did she say?”

“Well… she’s kinda implying that you two hooked up after the party last week…” Miguel’s eyes widen at that news. It’s just not true. But that seems to be the story everyone believes so far. “MJ thinks she’s full of shit bu-"

“She is full of shit.” Miguel sighs. Pinching the bridge of his nose. Or trying to with his cast. It was a foolish thing to give into his anger and take Dana back to his dorm. But he didn’t sleep with her. He’s not surprised though that she’s spreading that rumor around. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

“Shit, what happened?!” Peter flips, looking down at the cast engulfing Miguel’s forearm to the tips of his fingers. Looking at the seemingly broken hand, his eyes scanning over Miguel as a whole. Feeling like he has no idea what’s going on with someone who’s supposed to be his closest friend. “I broke my wrist but it’s fine, doctor says it’ll be fine even without surgery.”

“It’s fine?! What about the game?” Peter asks in panic, running a hand through his previously neat light brown locks. It’s against policy rules to play with a hard plaster cast for the safety of the other players and teammates. But Miguel’s the captain, their top offense and shooter. 

“I’ll be on the sidelines and Miller and Durante can take care of it.”

“It’s Princeton, Miguel. We’re gonna get fuckin’ smoked out there…” Peter huffs, going on and on but Miguel just shakes his head, feeling that anxiety rising again. The anxiety you were able to dampen only moments ago. “I know it sucks… I know. But those new drills have been helping… I’m gonna talk to coach.” 

“Alright… but Marco and Santiago need to get their asses in order before tomorrow. I’m not playing defense because they can’t pay attention to the fucking ball.” 

“I know, I know…” Miguel sighs and nods. Knowing this is all bad timing. They’ve been preparing for this game for a while now and it’s a pretty big spectacle. The stands will undoubtedly be full to the brim. It makes him tense and anxious to think about.

“Okay…” Peter huffs, running a hand through his hair. “Well, text me what Coach says…” He sighs, lifting his fist. Their knuckles colliding as he’s starting to walk off to where he’s going. “No more disappearing…” Peter chuckles, looking back as he starts walking down the hall, pointing a finger at his friend. “Yeah, yeah…”

“Alright, I’ll see you later.” Peter says with a nod, his hands in his pockets as he rounds the corner, walking into the library. Miguel sighs, feeling that tension, that tomorrow might not go well and it’ll be all his fault. Because he can’t do more to help the team he’s supposed to be leading.

He jogs down the stairs, down another hallway and outside. The fall breeze and smell of the trees and crisp autumn air flows past his cheeks, blowing back the little curls by his ears. Hunching his shoulders up when the brisk air cools his neck, pulling his collar up and walking across the commons to get to the athletic building on the other side of campus. To meet with Coach about the game plan for tomorrow. 

“Come on guys, one more time!” Miguel calls out to the team. Dressed in his uniform, dark blue and silver stripes, school colors with the Sterling University crest on his arm, a C on his chest. Number 99 on his back. Cleats and his cast to match. It does suck he has to miss out on actually playing but he does a lot of assistant coaching as captain anyway so it’s nothing he’s not used to. Coach Dean is talking with the referees anyway. Schmoozing on the sidelines, convinced it’ll earn them less whistles through the game. 

Miguel sighs, anxious, shaking his head and directing his attention to the mobs of people filling the stands. The sun is setting, the field lights coming on and a slight chill filling the air. A buzz with that too. College soccer fans here as well as lots of students from both universities. People are excited. The team is excited as well as anxious without Miguel playing beside them. Knowing they’ll have to supplement him being out. Miguel huffs, stretching his arms and wincing slightly at the remnants of ache in his wrist, his breath fogging in the cold air.

“Come on… si yeah! ¡Mantén la posesión!" He shouts from the sides, watching the team warming up with the drills and keeping order, following them up and down their half of the field. “Marco!¡Sigue presionando! Call for it!" A mix of Spanish and English naturally leave his lips. Dark eyes follow their form and technique. Keeping everyone in order. They’re doing really well as always. But Miguel would prefer perfection. “Good! Alright break!” He shouts.

The team all relaxes, sighing in relief and collecting on the sidelines near the bench. Some passing the ball back and forth. The goalie is doing some technique in the practice nets with Durante and Miller. Others glancing at the opposing team warming up on their side of the field. “Marco, you’re gonna break you’re fuckin’ ankle doing that. Keep it light, it doesn’t have to be so fast. Slow down and go through the steps, alright?” Miguel instructs calmly, grabbing a ball and demonstrating on the turf by the benches. Marco nods, wiping his brow with the edge of his jersey. 

“Just like that… keep it loose and look at Miller, he’s the one you’re paying attention to. Don’t look at Durante, he’s gonna be looking at Miller for that pass down the field. But that was still good, keep it up..” 

“There’s a lot of people here…” Peter comments, squirting some water into his mouth, catching his breath. Miguel walks over from helping Marco, standing beside his friend and looking out at the people in the stands. It’s a little more than they’re used to. Little intimidating considering this stadium seats thousands of people.

“It’s a big game…” Miguel huffs, grabbing his water bottle. Wish I could fucking play… he thinks. Glancing at Coach, still talking to the refs near the midline. They have a little while before everything starts.

It’s the end of the first half and it’s been a good game so far. Princeton is good but so is Sterling. They’d be better if Miguel was on the field to help them. He finds himself getting frustrated on the sidelines, disagreeing with the refs calls and calling out to his teammates, trying to lead and instruct. The whistle blows and the team finally relaxes. Panting and walking over to the sidelines. 

“They’re fast…” Marco pants, plopping down on the bench to catch his breath. “We have to be faster… but we’re holding our own…” Miguel says, hands on his hips and looking over the team, trying to keep the edge from his tone. He’s here to lead, not berate.

“You good?” He sees Peter covered in grass stains. Peter’s the one that’s been scoring pretty much all the goals so far. Princeton’s defense is good. It’s one of those games where no one’s going to score very many goals, it’s all about making sure the other team doesn’t get too close. “That was really good, keep doing that. And if it works better for Marco to go up the right side, then do that.” Miguel says. 

“I will… they’re so fuckin fast…” Peter pants, grabbing his water bottle and squirting some in his mouth. Breathing heavy through his nose. The team takes a few minutes at halftime to refuel and plan for the second half. Peter and Marco will have to be smart about the next plays. They’re down by two and the other team just keeps getting closer and closer. 

“I got a girl in the stands…” Peter says with a lopsided smile, still out of breath, spraying some more water into his mouth. “Yeah?” Miguel’s brow quirks at that information. He knows Peter has a lot of girls around him and friends that are girls. Makes sense, he’s very smart, an athlete, loud and the life of the party. Everyone always trying to get a piece of him. Not a foreign concept to Miguel himself. Miguel grabs his water bottle too, raising it to his mouth. “Who is she?” 

“Her name’s y/n…” 

What?

“...yeah you should meet her… she’s really pretty and smart and funny...” 

What?

Peter keeps talking, tossing a ball to someone else across the bench. Not even registering the look on Miguel’s face. Like shock and something else. Something Miguel himself can’t put a finger on. And Miguel can only half listen to Peter’s words. “She’s head of the tutoring club… did I tell you I started doing that? Dude, I’m getting paid to do some freshman’s homework and get course credit. It's like the easiest shit in the world…” Peter laughs, talking on and on. 

Miguel doesn’t understand. It’s like his brain can’t process this. Staring at Peter silently and waiting for him to say it’s a joke. But how could it be a joke?

“She’s riiiiight… there-” Peter turns, pointing at the stands. Turning stiffly, Miguel looks out to where he’s pointing. His dark eyes searching the stands and looking for your face. Hoping to see some stranger who happens to have the same name as you. But no. It’s you. 

He watches your gaze snap onto them, seeming surprised to have both their attention now. How did he not notice? You’ve been here this whole time, sitting nearly 15 rows behind him and he didn’t know? But Peter knew?

He can’t help that his immediate reaction to seeing you is relief. Seeing you up there and he just wants to smile. Wants to disappear with you and forget this stressful game. You’re like… his best friend in the whole world. But then that relief is quickly quelled when he realizes Peter is the one who invited you, he’s the reason you’re here. 

Miguel huffs. Nearly getting hit in the face when Peter starts waving at you. Stepping back and trying to make sense of this. There you are, waving back their way. What is this? He wonders. Unable to help the scowl that appears on his face as he observes Peter waving. What is this happening that he doesn’t know about or had no idea could even happen? Another bubble has popped and he didn’t even know it. 

He looks back up at you. Your eyes looking his way. But are you looking at him or are you looking at Peter? He hates that he can’t even tell. He hopes it’s him but it’s too much distance to know for sure. He just holds up a hand weakly. Waving at you. Feeling like an idiot, a total fool. And here Peter is waving at you, thinking Miguel doesn’t even know who you are. Fuck.

“Alright boys! Let’s huddle up!” Coach yells, coming over to the bench and motioning for everyone to come over. Peter moves to head over, gently kicking a ball on his way. And Miguel can’t help but keep glancing at you. Feeling self conscious. You’ve been watching him and witnessing all of this, this entire time? He didn’t even know you were here and half of the game had already been played. And all he’s done is stand on the sidelines while Peter played big shot scorer. 

Your hands wave at him, mouthing something he can’t make out. His brow knitting together as you try to communicate something to him before Coach snaps again. 

“O’hara!” 

His eyes snap to the team huddled by the bench. Taking long strides to get over there. But his mind is a mess. He didn’t even know you knew each other. 

The second half, the rest of the game, it’s hard for Miguel to focus on coaching. He’s watching the team play but it’s like a delayed reaction in his mind. Like his body is here but his brain is trying to tap into some invisible signal stretching from you to him. Peter scores again and Miguel flinches at the sound of the stands erupting. Cheering and echoing through his head. Pounding the sides of his skull.

He can’t help but glance your way every chance he gets. But every time he’s able to spot you in the sea of colors and foreign faces, you’re looking at the ball on the field. Which is always in Peter’s possession. And he can’t focus on anything except what he doesn’t know. What he can’t control. 

…

“Wooooo!” Marco hollers, the team gathering in a huddle on the field and celebrating their close victory. They won, but it was a tough game. Miguel stares almost blankly as the team all slaps hands and says good game. And by the time he snaps out of it, turning to find you, the stands are already emptying out and you’re gone from your seat. 

“O’hara!” The team shouts, bringing him out of the mess of thoughts. The players crowding him in celebration on the sidelines. Cheers and loud voices. Talking about moments in the game, highlights, certain techniques that had Princeton on their toes. All in all it was an exciting match and Peter was definitely the savior, scoring more goals than anyone and making the game. And Peter is all smiles. 

The team heads back to the locker room. Showering and warming down from the game. Miguel stands at his locker. His new locker since the punched in door wouldn’t close properly on his old one. Pulling off his jersey carefully with one hand and hanging it up. Wiping down his broad chest with a towel and hearing Peter with some of the boys walking in from the showers. His movements slow, brow furrowing, grabbing his change of clothes and pulling a tank top on, the black material bunching down his toned abdomen against his deep skin. Listening to Peter’s voice. 

His mind races. Since when did you two become such good friends? And why wouldn’t I know you were coming to the game when I saw you all day yesterday? Does Peter know that? Does Peter know we spend countless hours together? Does Peter know we have this deep connection that I’m actually working really hard to repair? He ought to. 

He listens to Peter’s conversation, as if waiting for him to say your name to confirm he’s talking about you. But he can’t make it out all the way. Something about a party, something about his car, something about the game. He watches the rest of the guys leave the locker room. Peter walks by with the guys and he just subtly, silently glares as they pass, not noticing him. pulling his hoodie on and shutting his locker gently. Pulling his phone off the charger and slinging his sports bag over his shoulder, walking out. 

He slumps down the concrete steps, the hallway leading to the exit doors, opening out to the athletic parking lot. Raking a hand through his hair, his mind a mess. He’s not used to feeling so beaten down after a game. They won, he should be happy. He should be glad. But he just feels indifferent. Or he just really needs to see you. 

When the door swings from someone else leaving, he catches a glimpse of you through the opening. The bright lights from outside assault his eyes as the door swings again. Seeing you for just a moment. Just a split second. Talking with Peter against the fence. He stops. What is he walking into? What’s about to change? You’re gonna be there right when he goes through that door. He stands in the dim concrete tunnel, feeling his heart race. He doesn’t like this feeling. This is the loss of control.

“Miguel!” Peter smiles, making you turn to look back. And there he is, walking out the door. You want to just run into his arms and tell him how great he was. Even though he didn't get to play he still coached very well and played his part in the victory. But Peter is talkative and gets in there before you can. And you don't really want to interrupt when he's talking with his friends. Since this is the first time you've been around his friends with him. 

“We’re gonna get drinks, you have to come” Peter says, ushering Miguel over to where you’re standing. “This is y/n… y/n this is Miguel” 

“Yeah we know each other.” Miguel says immediately. Not a hint of a smile on his face. He’s annoyed with Peter. Annoyed that it’s not a known thing. He wants it to be known that you two are an item. Or… that there’s something going on… he’s not even sure of at the moment. At least that Peter should know to back off. “Oh cool, so drinks?” 

Miguel’s a little astonished with how easily Peter just brushed that off. Eyes flicking between you two and hoping to god you don’t accept the drink invite. But he bites his tongue. Friends. Really good… friends. 

“Uh… I don’t know, I’m kinda tired…” You sigh. Part of you not wanting to go since it’s not your normal scene but a bigger part needing to go so you can feel like you’re really one of Miguel’s friends. Not someone he has to hide. That you can get along with them and be a part of his life. That’s all you want to prove to him. 

“Come on… please?” Peter pouts. And Miguel wants to scream. Trying to tell you with his eyes that he doesn’t want to do this. Not right now. Maybe later when he’s had time to mentally prepare himself. It doesn’t help that you look adorable right now. In your Sterling Uni hoodie with a scarf to keep warm. He doesn’t want to do this. He’d rather just go to dinner. Like always. Talk for hours and maybe even fall asleep talking in your dorm like always. Not this. Please not this. 

His eyes burning a hole right through you, trying to communicate it without using the words since he can’t right now, not with Peter standing right there. Part of him wants you to come and show you off. The other part of him wants you all to himself, not wanting to share you with anyone. But he’s trying to be better. Trying to control himself rather than try to control everything else around him. 

“It would be fun, right Miguel?” Peter asks, bringing him out of his thoughts. He wants to say no. Wants to say fuck no and disappear, taking you with him. But he can’t do that now. So he just nods stiffly, forcing a smile. Almost painfully. “Yeah… come…” 

Your eyes light up and Miguel knows he’s done for. “Oh great!” You smile and Peter is instantly excited too. Talking about how great it’s going to be and how many people will be there. Miguel’s heart is pounding, seeing how easily Peter was able to get you to come. How Peter is smiling and looking at you. A sense of dread filling his chest.

It’s the usual bar. The college bar around the corner from campus where the sports teams usually congregate after a game. Or the general student body on a Friday night. Loud music and conversation, the place is packed. Football and UFC playing on the multitude of TVs hanging in the place. The team filters in all acting like they own this place. Playing pool and getting drinks, talking to girls in corners and at the bar. It’s a crazy night at least for you. Miguel’s seen nights like this before, but this time you’re here. And he won’t let you out of his sight. Even as people talk to him, trying to strike up conversation and catch up. Since everyone knows who he is and knows his name. He still keeps his attention focused on you. He doesn’t care about anyone else in this bar tonight. 

Drinks flow the second everyone is in there, laughter and loud voices, trying to be heard over the music. Miguel keeps his arm barred at your side to help get you through the density of people. Like a shield to make sure no one bumps into you. Not wanting you to be too claustrophobic or crowded. Staying nearby until you find two seats at the bar miraculously. As you sit down, Miguel quickly scans the room. Looking for one face in particular. No sign of Dana and he can relax a tiny bit. Sliding into his stool seat beside you. 

He sits down, watching how you observe the place, looking a little out of your element here. It’s clear you’re not a party girl. You’re a smart, intelligent tutor and it shows. It would almost be comical if Miguel didn’t have a fierce determination to protect you in this place. 

He leans over, getting closer to your ear to be heard over the noise. The smell of your shampoo mixed with your perfume, so close and familiar, filling his senses and almost making him dizzy. His mind flashing with moments of you in his bed. Your body under his and his face buried in your soft sweet smelling hair. He’s the only one in this bar that knows what you sound like when you come.

“Drink… Do you want a drink?” He asks, trying to be heard over the noise, his cheek brushing against yours. Pulling back to hear your response. “Yeah! Whatever is fine…” You smile, trying to speak over the chaos of people and stimulation. A bit out of your element but doing fine. Excited to be here with him and feel like you’re fitting into his world. 

He gets the bartender's attention, ordering you just a beer in a bottle. He doesn’t know if you’d want anything fruity, not that this crappy bar would have anything that good anyway. He’s never drunk with you before. He slides it over to you, watching you take a gulp and smile. You’re so out of your element here. He sighs. A swell in his chest. 

Even though he would normally be drinking a couple beers himself, he just has water in front of him. He wants to stay relatively sober. Enough to keep watch over you and make sure no one else talks to you. “Oh, I thought you were gonna get the same thing…” You chuckle, leaning your elbows on the bar and watching him sipping his water from a plastic cup. 

“Someone needs to be responsible for all these people right?” He chuckles. As captain of the team he actually does feel that responsibility. To keep people in line since he knows they’ll listen to him. “And I need to be sober if I’m carrying you out of this place drunk off your ass…” He jokes, teasing you. 

“I’m not getting drunk tonight, no way. No thank you…” You sigh, shaking your head. Looking down at the label on the bottle in your hand. Then your eyes dart around the crowded room a few times. He just looks at your face. You’re so pretty. Especially pretty in this low light. 

“Well how is the beer at least? I know it’s not something sweet but it’s probably the best thing they have here.” He huffs, keeping his eyes on you, studying you. He’d love to just be all over you and show people that you’re his. But you’re not right now. You’re his friend and that’s the boundary you both set. He’s trying his best to uphold that after his mistakes. “It’s fine… I don’t ever drink much anyway so I’m not picky…” 

He nods. Learning more about you all the time. The two of you have never been out to a bar or club before so this is all brand new. He can see how you’re a little nervous in this place. It’s not your usual hangout spot and he can tell. “Yeah, this place is pretty chaotic tonight…” He comments, looking around then back at you. “You’re okay though, right?” 

“Yeah I’m fine…” You smile. Clasping your hands in your lap. He’s attentive, more recently than ever. It’s true that he’s become like your best friend over the last month and a half. Even though it hasn’t been that long, it’s felt like a lifetime. And with how much time you spend together, it still feels like he separates you from a lot of the other parts of his life. Friends, family, everything else. You spot Peter across the way standing with some people. The only other person you even know in this place. 

Miguel follows your gaze over towards where Peter is and he can't help but wonder why you're looking at Peter or what you're thinking. He looks at the group of people around him, recognizing teammates and classmates, but notices Peter in particular.He tries to remain cool, looking back at you. "He's a great friend… isn't he… "

He says it with a little bit of annoyance in his voice, thinking about how you two have gotten really close as friends and he didn't even know it.

"Yeah he's really sweet," You smile, not really noticing his expression. You want Miguel to know that you can get along with his friends too and you can be a part of his life. "He's funny…"

His brow twitches just a bit. He doesn't know how to feel about the fact that you two are friends in and out of the tutoring club. And that you’re calling him sweet. And funny. He knows how charismatic and charming Peter is, knowing he could get any girl he wants. "He always gets the girls…  he's quite the flirt…" He mumbles.

"Oh really?" You smile and scrunch your nose up, looking back at Peter and seeing that yes, there are many girls around him right now. And he must be very popular with the girls, you think. You hadn't really noticed that Peter was a flirt but you think he's charming. Maybe you're just so focused on being his friend to prove to Miguel you can be part of his friend group.

Miguel can feel his patience slipping. How you seem so oblivious to the fact that Peter is a huge flirt and that Peter was flirting with you earlier when he invited you to the bar. But he's been Peter's friend for years, of course he knows the girls flock around him. It just annoys him that you’re completely oblivious to it. He watches you watching Peter across the room, trying not to let it show on his face how frustrated he is.

"How's your hand?" You ask, taking a sip from your bottle. Gesturing towards his cast in his lap. Trying to talk over the noise in the room. The topic change gives him some relief. Grateful to think about something other than the image of Peter taking you home tonight. He lifts his hand, flexing a few fingers. "It's fine. Doesn't really hurt much right now. It's a good reminder to not lose my cool again… "

"Yeah, that locker room hates to see you comin’…" You joke with a smile. Shaking your head. Punched his locker like some guy in a movie.

Miguel can't help but smile, knowing you’re referring to him punching the front of his locker like a crazy person. He sighs, knowing it was stupid and a loss of control. "That locker had it coming though…"

You laugh at his words, his eyes lighting up watching your head throw back a bit. The fluttering sound of your laughter carrying slightly over the noise in the room and hitting his ears. He wants to make you laugh like that all the time. Make you smile like this every day. And  Peter works his way through the room over to the bar. 

"There you guys are! I thought I lost you…" Peter's face lights up when he gets closer, excited to see his best friend and you, the pretty tutor. He stands behind both your chairs putting his hands on the backs of them. Miguel’s eyes flick back-and-forth between you two. You're still oblivious. Smiling at Peter like you don't know what he's doing. Every instinct inside of him telling him to make Peter back off. But he's trying to be better for you. Trying not to lose control or act impulsive. 

"Spending the night bragging, are you?" You smile and tease Peter lightly. Leaning over the back of your chair. He did score a lot of the winning goals tonight. Peter laughs and loves any attention from you. Miguel can only listen and watch this interaction between the two of you. It's like a nightmare come to life. And he's feeling claustrophobic in this crowded place with all these people. He just wants to take your hand and go back to campus, go back to your dorm, go back to the library.

"Well you all played very well…" You hum. Looking between the two boys. You can't help but notice Miguel’s body language. Thinking he must just be upset that he didn't get to play because of his cast. But he did very well on the sidelines. 

"Peter here was especially on his game today. Princeton is tough…" Miguel says with tension in his tone, finally joining in on the conversation. His eyes flicking between the two of you but landing on you mostly. Watching your reaction to Peter's words.

"It's all in the foot work really. Reading the opponent… Gotta think about 10 steps ahead." Peter says with a grin, in his element. Miguel has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. As much as he loves Peter, he wants him to fuck off right now.

You giggle softly at Peter's joke and his obvious love for attention. Loving the way you can so casually hang out with Miguel and his friends for the first time ever. Miguel clenches his jaw, sipping his water and trying to keep his cool. You take a sip of your beer finding it's the last one, putting the empty bottle back on the bar. It seems both boys take notice. 

"Can I get you another? "Peter asks, His eyes lighting up.

“Um…" You're thinking. You don't really do this that often and you're finally getting to hang out with Miguel and his friends. What the hell… "Sure!"

Peter flashes that charming smile at you and Miguel can feel his control slipping again. Now he's buying you drinks? 

"I got it." Miguel suddenly says, waving to the bartender for another round. If anyone's getting you drunk tonight, it's gonna be him. So he can make sure you're okay. “Okayyy…” Peter huffs softly, raising his brow at Miguel’s rivalry. But Miguel doesn’t care. Grabbing the fresh cold beer bottle and sliding it over the bar in front of you. Looking back up at Peter, a stern expression on his face. 

Over the next hour and your next two beers, Peter just won’t go away. He’s practically hanging on your chair, talking to you about whatever. And because you’re so nice and sweet you just keep giving into him. Smiling at Miguel too like you want him to be in on the conversation. But it just makes him feel worse somehow. Is he really losing you to Parker? Is that how this is gonna go? 

“So… you guys are like best friends?” You ask, your words slightly slurred, cheeks pink and flushed. You’re tipsy and Miguel’s watching you like a hawk. Your beer shined lips as you smile up at Peter. So damn cute and pretty. “We are… best friends…” Peter says in a cocky way. Grabbing Miguel’s shoulder and shaking it a few times, a beer in his other hand. Miguel might be the only sober one in this place and it’s getting annoying. 

He fidgets with the same fray on his cast, pulling on it and pulling on it. Watching you talk to Peter. Forcing a smile when you look his way. It’s getting unbearable. Eyes flicking around the crowded room and just wanting to get out of here. 

“One more round?” Peter asks and Miguel groans internally. You’re both drunk, everybody is drunk and he just wants to get you back somewhere it’s safer. Peter gets to chatting loudly with some other people down the bar.

“Do you wanna leave?” You lean over, getting closer to Miguel, right up to his face and he just gives you a soft look. Admiring your pretty flushed features. He can see you’ve been having fun. “No, I’m good, we can stay if you want…” He hums gently. 

“Don’t lie, Mig…” You whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear over the noise. And his brow knits together, hearing the nickname, your soft warm voice, wanting to reach out and brush your hair back, kiss your pretty pink lips. Anything. “I’m a little tired…” He admits. And even in your tipsy state, you know it’s time to go. 

“Let’s go then… it’s too loud…” You sigh, a distracted Peter now talking loudly with Marco and Miller down the bar. Relief, Miguel thinks. He does really want to make sure you get back to your dorm okay. 

…

“Wai-I ‘ave a question…” You slur, hanging onto him and pressed up against his chest as he’s trying to get you over to bed. His big strong arms around you and it feels so good, feels so right. What you’ve been missing all this time and now it just feels like everything is perfect and everything is good and… and your tongue still tastes like beer and… and he smells so good. 

“Yeah, what's your question?” He asks so soft and gently. His voice is like smooth melted butter mixed with sweet brown sugar. Bringing you over to your bed and sitting you down on the edge. Making sure you don’t topple over. “Hold still, I’m gonna take your shoes off…” 

“D’you think… that… um…” You sigh, the alcohol clouding everything making you instantly forget what you were about to ask him. But the thought is mixing around your brain just waiting to come out. After all, it’s all you were thinking about all night. “M-my shoe is stuck”

“I know, I’m trying to get it off…” He sighs, unable to stop the smile when he hears your little whine. You are pretty cute like this and he likes helping you. Kneeling down in front of you and taking your shoe onto his knee to undo the laces, slipping it off.

“Do you think that… all your friends… that they like-like it?” You sigh, wiggling your toes in your socks as he slides your shoe off. His hands on your calves, absentmindedly caressing up and down, having you in his hands like this is too good to pass up, but he looks up at you at your question. His brow furrowing, wondering what you mean. “Do they like what,-?” He almost called you baby right there. But stopped himself. Maybe it’s just being like this with you right now. Being close and finally being needy for his help, needing him in any way. Or the way you seem so soft and fragile right now he just wants to protect you. 

“That they like me…” You sigh. Pushing a hand through your hair and he pulls your other shoe off, your feet freeing and legs dangling off the side of the bed. 

He looks up at you, piecing together your broken sentence. Do his friends like you? Peter? 

“Like P-peter… does Peter like me?” You ask and his expression goes serious. Swallowing thickly and setting your shoes to the side. He knows the answer. He knows that Peter obviously has a thing for you. It’s becoming more clear you have a thing for him too. 

Miguel straightens back up, standing over you and listening to your drunken rambling. Your mumbles. “Cuz I think Peter is really nice and I think you and I can be friends… and I can be friends with your friends too…” 

He doesn’t understand what you mean. Towering over you and feeling so blocked up. Like he’s miles away from where he wants to be with you. He wants you to want him. Not think about Peter. 

“Uh… I think Peter likes you, yeah…” He mumbles. Looking down at your face. The way it lights up and his heart falls. “Really? So we can all be friends?” 

His heart hurts, looking in your eyes. So confused, not knowing what to think. But wishing he could just kiss you right now and make your thoughts stop. Or to fill your thoughts with him. If he kissed you right now would you forget Peter ever existed? If he kissed you right now, if he laid you down and pumped into you until you were a crying trembling moaning mess like all those times before, would you forget Peter and think about him again? 

“I’m sweating…” You huff, moving to get up off the bed and his arms come to steady you. “Woah woah slow down, sweetheart…” The words ooze off his lips. His hands guide you before you reassure him you can walk. He huffs, watching you walk over to your closet. He sits down on the edge of your bed, head in his hands. Feeling pathetic and so lost. Not even knowing what to do at this point. Has he actually lost you for good? Will he actually only ever be your friend now?

You’re sweating, pulling at the material of your hoodie and ripping it off over your head. Slipping your pants off and sighing in relief. Standing in your panties and bra by the dresser and looking for some comfy clothes. Your mind filled with the thoughts of being Miguel’s again. You’re friends with his friends like any girlfriend would be. So what’s stopping him? What’s stopping both of you from just being together again? Since you’ve proven to him, you can fit in. 

“Miguel…” You hum, his head coming out of his hands and looking up at you. Eyes widening seeing you in just your underwear. Gulping thickly. “Yes?” He whispers. Like beckoning to your call. Like a plea for you to just put him out of his misery already. 

You walk over to him, trying to half haphazardly pull on a big t-shirt. His hands unable to stop themselves, coming up to help pull the material down. You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re doing. This all just makes him feel somehow worse. Your body taunting him, teasing him with everything he needs and no way to get it. 

Your hips slot between his legs, standing between them and getting closer. Fingers clenching into his shirt and smashing your lips against his. His fingers splay out, shock and surprise. His eyes wide and heart seemingly stops. You’re… kissing him… you…

Heavy breath through his nose and his eyes flutter closed. Kissing you back, feeling your eager tongue tasting like alcohol come into his mouth. Letting it swirl against his lips and his tongue. His big hands snaking around you, holding you for the first time like this in so long. You gasp and hum against his lips and a chill goes down his back. He must be dreaming. 

But your hands go to his chest, pushing him back on the bed, and he’s so weak to you. His back hitting the mattress. He wants this so badly. Wants you more than anything in the entire world. You climb on top of him, clambering over his body, sitting on his abdomen and leaning down to kiss him again. 

“Wait-”

He’s silenced by your lips, trying to be dominant and licking into his mouth. You never did that before. That was always him. But right now it’s like you’re hungry for him in the exact same way he was hungry for you all this time. 

“I need you…” You whisper, pulling back from his lips with a smack. His eyes wide and breath heaving. It’s everything he’s ever wanted and yet it’s not right at all. “No baby… you need to go to sleep… you’re drunk…” He whispers, feeling so weak, his hands running up your warm bare thighs, like medicine. His cast is slightly scratchy on your thigh. Finally your body on his, your warmths feeding off of each other. 

“No please… say you want me, please you have to, don’t you want to?” You whine. Leaning over him and kissing his cheek, burying your face in his neck. He’s speechless. Doesn’t know what to say or think. He thought you were done all this time. He thought you were pining after Parker. 

“I want you… I do want you…” He whispers before his mind can even think. His hands falling from your thighs and flat on the bed. It feels wrong to touch you this way. His love for you overshadows his own selfish need. You won’t remember this in the morning. 

You won’t remember this in the morning. 

“I love you…” He whispers. Into your hair. Choking back a lump in his throat. 

“Mm?” You groan, pushing yourself up drunkenly on your hands, your hair dangling into his face under you. 

“Nothing…” He whispers. Swallowing thickly and wrapping his arms around you again. Pulling you to his chest and hugging you. Keeping you there, knowing you’ll pass out in a few minutes anyway and he can tuck you into bed safe and sound. 

To be continued…

Reblogs and comments very much appreciated!! Let me know what you think or your theories!

Taglist (thank you my sweets 🍬) :

@miguels-cock-piercings @queerponcho @club-danger-zone @bossva @softcrayon

@nommingonfood @bruhhvv

@jessies-unrelagated-thoughts @mauvecherie-writes @haveclayeveryday @kimivixen

@jadeloverxd @chiikasevennn @mvlanchqly @resident-cryptid

@x0tw0d57 @vampyboys @miguelspriscilla

@francesca-the-1st @migueloharasbbm @razertail18 @laysmt

@tojiragdoll @maiyart @wazawazooo @mun-2996 @marshhbs

@curious-randomlr @safixiovi @daddyfroglegs @theplaid-wearingmoose @reader-1290

@yeanika @elysiumsangel @rinnako @mangoslushcrush @twwcs

@izakopanyi2 @migueloharasoulmate @slut4oscarissac23

@miss-loomis @genny101

@aphinthestars @webshooterrr9 @m4dyy

@jdbxws @roserfz27 @ohara-whore @oharaslove @daisy-artfield

@mooreaey6yem @peachey-pie @migueloharacumslut @pxtched

@yougavemeyourheartyouknow @julia4today

[dogstomp]

Dogstomp #3302 - November 6th

[ros3ybabes]

🎀 Workout Youtubers

I currently do exclusively pilates and yoga workouts from youtube. However, I've done other body weight workouts with various youtube videos and seen results in the past. Here is my list of workout youtubers that you could check out! I will put a * next to my personal favorites! I will include a short list of my current at home workout equipment at the end as well as some items I plan on buying soon!

With any workout program or routine, always be safe, check with your doctor if necessary, and if something doesn't feel good or right, don't do it! No matter what your goals are, it's always important to be safe and stay healthy. Please always take care of yourselves and know how beautiful, worthy and valuable you are no matter what! I love you all <333

🩷 Pilates

Move with Nicole * (also posts occasionally barre and yoga videos as well! I love her videos so so much)

Madeleine Abeid

IsaWelly

Pilatesbodyraven

Lidia Mera

Lottie Murphy

Amanda Blauer

Margaret Elizabeth

Jessica Valant Pilates

Bailey Brown

Dansique Fitness

Flow with Mira

Sivi (she's began posting some pilates inspired workouts and to my knowledge is currently getting certified as an instructor)

🩷 Yoga

Yoga with Adriene *

Yoga with Bird

Boho Beuatiful Yoga

🩷 Bodyweight Fitness/Strength/HIIT

Chloe Ting * (I don't like the click bait, but I like the workouts)

Blogilates

Pamela Reif *

Madfit *

Lilly Sabri * (Some of her videos are titled with pilates, but the older ones I used to do were not pilates, so I categorized her here)

Emi Wong

Shirlyn Kim

Vivian Yuan

April Han

growingannanas

growwithjo * (I love her walking workouts)

Hinafit

Mish Choi

Sami Clarke

Elenifit

Coach Kel (she posts what looks like more barre, ballet, pilates inspored/fusion workouts it seems)

Caroline Girvan

TRAIN WITH GAINSBYBRAINS

Daisy Keech

🎀 Current At Home Workout Equipment I Own

Thick Yoga Mat - since I do mainly yoga and pilates my thick yoga may (amazon brand) has served me well. Even tho I am a heavier woman at the moment, I've never had pain or any issues with this mat, and it came with a carry strap which I love! A good, thick workout mat is definitely necessary for working out at home for comfort, safety, etc. Make sure to disinfect it on occasion, especially if you sweat on it a lot!

Resistance Bands - I have about 3 or 4 at different resistance strengths, and they're incredibly useful for a variety of movements, especially lower body ones. They add some extra resistance and make the workouts a bit more challenging when you need something more advanced. I also got mine from Amazon/Walmart a while back. I prefer fabric over rubber because I like to wear workout shorts instead of workout leggings.

Pilates Ball - not a necessity, but useful with some pilates workouts and movements. I have seen sole videos using this, but am not advanced enough to try it on my own yet. Will use for sure once I'm more advanced.

3lb dumbbells - I thought these would be useful for the pilates workouts that had some upper body focus, and as someone who wants to develop a lean and toned upper body, they are perfect for low weight high rep, controlled movements. Again, not advanced enough to use as I want to master my form, but they're gonna come in handy for sure!

Foam Roller - so so good for stretching and muscle recovery on rest days. I love mine but want one that has the bump things on it to help my muscles more. I can imagine how good it'll feel on my legs during a recovery day when I begin wieght lifting again.

Massage Gun - my holy grail for the days I am sore and needing some recovery. my body feels like jelly after using this, and it's just so nice for the days my muscles feel extra tight and super sore.

🎀 Equipment I Want To Buy

Yoga Blocks - these will help me get deeper into the yoga poses once I get more advanced in my practice

Pilates Ring - this honestly looks so fun and challenging to use, I'd love to add it to my collection of useful workout equipment!

Jump Rope - I used to love this as a form of cardio and as long as I don't move into an upstairs apartment, I'm definitely buying one

Pilates Bar - still iffy on this one, it's supposed to mimic a reformer but I want to get better at mat pilates and see if I even end up ever needing or seriously wanting to buy it, its on my list tho

Ankle/Wrist weights - these are gonna be so useful for workouts where hand held dumbbells aren't useful. Want to buy some low weight ones just to help with resistance and extra strength during pilates workouts

Kettlebell weight - I think this would be useful for a workout at home type situation if and when I switch to not doing just pilates and yoga. I know these are useful in their own right, but not needed in my current fitness stage of life.

Core Sliders - these look fun and interesting. They're on my lost for sure, but not sure about the practicality of their use in my life just yet.

That's all that's currently on my at home workout equipment list! As someone who primarily works out at home, the things I currently own are most useful and most of what's on this list is for fun or extra challenge. Just not necessary yet.

hope you enjoyed this list! if you have any questions about my favorite youtuber workout instructors or favorite videos, please feel free to ask, I've tried so many and can give some guidance from my own experience and research.

til next time lovelies 🩷

[redcherrykook]

ִֶָ── ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐ Kinktober D4- toys (fem rec.)

────☠︎︎────

content: JK spoiling oc with orgasms, he's so sweet in this awh, vibtator and dildo usage, penetration missionary, sweet dirty talk, praise, making out, jk comes on her tits <3

────☠︎︎────

Completely naked beneath your half naked boyfriend, you feel the burning need to be touched only increasing

"you can take it sweetheart, you're a good girl" carefully, his large hands run down your sides, rubbing small cricles when resting on your bare hip

"I don't know kook, what if it's too much?" Your little mumble leaves your lips shyly, arms wrapping around his neck to pull his face closer, burrying your face in the crook of his neck, protectively, one of his hands rubs down your back

"Remember your safe word?"

"mhm"

"Good", he says, "use that if you wanna stop. I promise you'll like it angel" soothingly, your fingers move in his hair, threading through the gentle strands

He lets you rest like that for a moment before grabbing the pink little nub from the bedside table,

"Gonna start with this, you know this one baby, easy okay? Gonna make you feel so so good, i'd never hurt you" he mumbles, running his unoccupied hand on your thigh while he starts kissing your neck, grazing your skin with his lips

The quiet buzzing noise fills up your ears before feeling the vibrations on your needy clit, stimulating you in the way you've been yearning for

"Mhh! yes, hmm.." your moans tumble out, making jungkook smile against your neck,

"Yeah? Feels good baby? You like this?" He teases, increasing the intensity on the little toy, slowly starting to rub it in small circles

Hands gripping on his shoulders, you nod frantically, whining little moans into his hair while he keeps pressing kisses to your neck,

Jungkook's left hand moves along your body, eventually finding comfort on your hips again, holding you in place

"Tell me angel, tell me how good it feels" he says, pulling himself off your neck to watch the blissfull expression on your face, bottom lip tucked under your teeth, face flushing a light shade of pink

He grins, taking your face in his large hand, still moving the vibrator against you with the other one

Suddenly, he presses the tiny button on the side, making it turn up to max intensity, your eyes roll back immediately, loudly moaning and whining for him to see

"So good kook! So so good- mhhh-yes, yes please- fuck" your rambles continue, tainted with need, legs shaking softly, the clenching in your stomach build up rapidly, having no control over the way it snaps when he speaks,

"Good girl, doing so well"

Finally removing the vibrator from your clit, he presses small pecks to your lips while you breath heavily, coming down from the sudden high,

"All nice and wet now baby, gonna be easy"

Your eyes wander over his hands, in them, a average sized transparent dildo, thick but not that long

He spits on it nonetheless, taking the thick tip to tap your inner thigh,

You open your legs for him immediately, too nervous to look down at what he's doing, your eyes focus on the boner inside his boxers, showing through the material,

His defined torso glistens with sweat, messy brown hair falling from his forhead, and his bicep flexes once he stablizes his arm next to your body, lifting the other one with the toy in his hand

"You're so pretty kook" you mumble, gasping when you feel him rub the toy along your folds, wetting it with your juices

He smiles, biting his lip at the sight between your legs, "thank you, you're so cute. Ready?" he asks sweetly, stopping the toy at your entrance

you nod, clenching the sheets in your hands,

"mhh fuck" you groan, the thick toy slipping into you with ease, slowly, he starts thrusting it into you and drawing it almost all the way back out before slamming it back in

"Doing so well, so fucking cute, cutest little pussy" he mutters, licking his lips as he starts pushing the dildo in and out of you faster, deeper,

"Taking it so well... good girl" you can barely hear his sweet voice through your loud moans, whimpering in pleasure with each harsher push back into your drenched cunt

His knees scoot to trap you between them, suddenly you gasp, whining loudly when the familiar buzzing returns, the vibrations meeting your clit while he keeps penetrating the dildo into you, moaning along with your loud cries,

"Fuck! nhh kook! so good oh god- fuck" you whine again, mouth gaping open, he watches you and crashes his lips to yours, letting you hastily kiss him with desperation

Your cries get muffled by the kiss, the pleasure adds up immensely, feeling yourself melting into the bliss, your legs pick up shaking again, clenching around the toy that's rapidly fucking into you

Swearing you loose your vision for a second, everything goes white, your mind clouded and completely blank at the same time,

"hmm baby, cum for me, sound so fucking good" he says, sloppily sucking on your neck while you keep moaning, finally coming undone on the toy, hasty gasps and whimpers leave your mouth

"Enough- nghmm.. please!" you whine and earn a chuckle from him as he puts the buzzing toy away from your oversensitive clit before pulling the thick dildo out of you,

"Awwh.. you're so cute.. did so so well for me didn't you baby? Fuck, you're such a good girl" the praise makes your cheeks flush even harder, his arms wrap around your naked form with a little giggle,

"Please kiss me kook" you mumble, cupping his face with trembling hands,

Without wasting another breath, his lips move to yours again, engulfing you in a warm kiss, his tongue pertrudes through your lips, slipping beneath to wrap around your own, groans of his get dimmed by the kiss,

His position makes you feel just how hard he is, pressed against you, slightly rutting into your skin for some friction

Muttering into the kiss, he speaks again

"Think my girl can handle another one?"

The words get caught in your throat, throbbing between your legs worsening with how he talks to you, so you just nod, biting his bottom lip

Jungkook takes that yes, pushing you down on the bed softly and quickly pulling his hard length out, only making you whimper slightly when looking at how good he looks like this

He enters you immediately, his hands gripping the inside of your spread legs and pushing them upwards, eyes fixated on where his cock rams into your pussy, dissappearing deep into you

"So fucking good, you hear that baby? Listen to how good you feel" he says, grunting and moaning sultry while he keeps fucking all of him into you,

You moan with him, eyes fallen shut from how good you feel, how sensitive your cunt is as he keeps fucking himself into you

"Look at that, taking my cock so well, fuck baby, so fucking pretty" he mutters through a clenched jaw, feeling how you tighten around him before coming down hard on his cock, desperately whining out his name

Pulling himself out, he looks down on your form, body covered in a thin layer of sweat, hair messy and cheeks bright red,

"Wanna come on your tits pretty, fuck- can i?" His hand wraps around him, pumping himself fast over your body

"Yes- please kook" you reply, scooting down lower so he's level with you

He keeps stroking himself until finally, his milky cum splurts down from his swollen tip, covering your chest with the white ropes

Both of you are breathing heavily, coming down from the intensity,

"You did so so well baby, my pretty angel" he mumbles, his lips softly moving against your own, fingers threading through your hair

"So tired kook.. but so good" you chuckle, a tired tone and a little sigh accompanying you

He hums, hoisting you into his arms, "let me bathe you, you deserve it. Did so so well baby"

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (II)

The two yokai men reach an agreement and you begin your journey together, searching for clues regarding the mysterious case of your incomplete reincarnation. You learn about the third of the Legendary Yokai, a gargantuan monster worshipped in times of war.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guide]

The next swish of the mysterious man's sword is parred by Kiritsubo, who managed to make his way to you in time.

"Wait! It's not entirely him, Murasaki, I can explain!" He shouts frantically.

"So you let him live. This is why you've never been good for anything." The dark haired man snarls in a low voice, disgust seeping through his sharp teeth.

It becomes obvious rather quickly that he has the advantage in terms of battle experience. You can only stare in fear, stuffing your wound with your jacket sleeve. What else can you do? You're bleeding profusely and if a demon of Kiritsubo's stature cannot compete, you'd be even less helpful.

"Listen to him, man, I genuinely don't know anything about your master!" You beg as your limbs are flooded with a prickling sensation. They're slowly going numb. "Please. I just want to go home."

Damn it. You have no idea whether the bleeding will stop anytime soon. Is this how you die? You won't even get a proper burial. Even worse, your family will live on thinking you vanished without a trace, unaware you've been stabbed to death by a crazy jackass in feudal Japan. You wish you could make them stop.

You squeeze your eyes tightly, trying to think of a way to escape, when you hear both men groan in pain. You look ahead to see them on the ground, clinging tightly to their chests, faces twisted in a grimace. Huh? They couldn't have killed each other in the few seconds they were out of your view. What is going on?

After a few agonizing moments, the yokai seem to calm down. Kiritsubo is gasping for air, clumsily pulling himself back up. Murasaki remains on the grass, forcing himself to appear collected despite the cold sweat coating his forehead.

"That's...what...I...meant..." The silver haired demon groans between hitched breaths. "Whew. You see it now, don't you? She doesn't emanate enough power to pull this off. It's coming from somewhere else."

Murasaki clicks his tongue in visible annoyance.

"So then, what do you suggest?"

"I don't know. But something is stopping you from killing her and there's a chance she's connected to the source."

"What are you guys whispering about?" You inquire, crawling closer towards the horned men. "And why did you suddenly collapse? You scared the hell out of me!"

"You didn't feel anything?" Kiritsubo questions you with raised eyebrows.

"Besides the, I don't know, stab wound? No, thankfully." You respond sarcastically.

Without a word, Murasaki stands up and approaches you. He crouches down to your level and nonchalantly slaps your hand away from your shoulder.

"Hey!"

"Have you ever tended to a wound in your life? You're shit at it." He uses his sword to cut off your sleeve and folds it over your gash with calculated movements. You hiss at the pain and glare at him. "Bite down on a stick if you can't handle it. Better than being dead."

The white haired yokai flashes you an awkward but reassuring smile.

"He might be an ass about it, but he knows what he's doing."

"Why are you helping me, anyways?" you point out, somewhat wary. "You literally tried to kill me a moment ago."

"I changed my mind. You'll help us find the damned bastard or whatever it is he's using to control us."

"What, the priest? Hell no, I'm going back to my world. I've had enough action for the rest of my life."

Murasaki finishes bandaging you and gives you one final press, almost as if messing with you, and you wince. He stands up and slides his sword back in its sheath.

"If you focus a little, you will find there was no question or request in my words. I'm not negotiating with a weakling like you."

Kiritsubo squats down before you and claps his hand together, pleadingly.

"Please think about it, (Y/N). I know you don't owe us anything, but there's a chance we could finally break the seal and be free. If you'd consider helping us. You can walk away, but that won't change the fact you're part of Abe no Nakamaro. He will want his powers back at some point, and we can protect you when the time comes."

You cross your arms and frown thoughtfully, pondering the options. He did save you twice already. So in a way, you're indebted to him. And if he's right, and you will have to deal with more crazy encounters in the future, it's probably better to have two powerful demons by your side.

"Alright, alright. I'll help you." You exclaim with a confident nod.

Kiritsubo grins, satisfied, and Murasaki huffs and looks away. There's a prolonged silence as you wait for them to continue with further instructions, but the men remain quiet.

"So...what now?" you eventually speak up.

"Oh. I thought you knew where to go next." the silver haired man retorts, confused.

"Idiot. She's not a compass." Murasaki scolds him. "Can you stand?" He adds, turning to you. "There's a shrine a few kilometers away that belonged to him. If we leave now, we should make it before sunset. Maybe we can find something there."

You try to prop yourself up, but Kiritsubo promptly scoops you with his sinewy arm and throws you on his back again.

"I'll carry you. Just hold on."

A faint blush dusts your cheeks, but you don't have the energy to argue it. You clutch onto his broad shoulders and nod.

The walk is uneventful and both yokai seem to be distracted. The gentle swaying is causing you to be more comfortable than you'd like to admit and your eyelids become heavy with exhaustion. Before you know it, your head drops against the toned back and you fall asleep.

By the time you open your eyes again, you've already reached your destination. You yawn and stretch, lazily scanning the surroundings. A heavy shadow looms over you and you glance up. Still groggy from your nap, you scream before you can fully process the object towering above.

It's a statue. A colossal statue of some sort of monster. A demon with thick, wide bull horns sprawling out imposingly, almost eclipsing the ridiculously muscular build. The creature has four arms, flexed in a threatening manner, with one hand gripping a heavy spear and the other a skull. The crimson light of the sunset creeps through the windows and reflects against the chiseled clay, giving the statue a devilish glow. You feel insignificant.

"That's Suma."

"W-what?" your head tilts to Kiritsubo.

"He's one of us. You might meet him soon, if he's been alerted of your presence. This is a shrine built for him, to bring good fortune during times of war."

You cannot help but gawk at the structure.

"Is it, uh, life sized?"

"Heh, almost. He's a little taller than this." He chuckles, slightly nostalgic.

You swallow dryly. Just a moment ago you thought Kiritsubo was unusually big.

"I'd rather not meet him, to be honest." You shiver at the idea.

"Don't worry about it. Now that Murasaki has joined us, you're pretty much safe from anything. He's the strongest of us." The yokai remarks with a sad smile.

"Really?"

You peek at the dark haired man, currently flipping through dusty manuscripts, and briefly observe him. Compared to Kiritsubo, he's quite slender, with noble, elegant features. And he'd be able to defeat this enormous beast? Then again, the glimpse you've caught of his swordsmanship is enough of a convincing argument.

What a bizarre gathering of creatures beyond your understanding.

You remember to look away when Murasaki grunts and throws the remaining scroll of paper. His lips form a thin line as he rakes his mind for the next step.

"Nothing here. But I'm rather certain he has to be at one of his hideouts. We'll check each and one of them if we have to." 

"Wait, are you saying he's still alive? We saw his body before Sekiya and Sakaki took him for the embalming and burial."

Murasaki scoffs at his partner's gullible nature.

"And you believed it? That parasite spent his entire life searching for ways to prolong his reign. He's probably hiding somewhere, waiting for his renewed part of the soul to return to him." 

He rests against the wall and points a clawed finger at you. 

"This must've been his solution. Releasing his remaining energy until it found a proper vessel to grow stronger, and patiently awaiting the body swap. Then we go back to being whipped dogs fulfilling his whims."

It's your turn to be outraged, twisting your mouth downwards.

"No way, I'll pound that old man into sand!" You bark and throw a jab against the air, emphasizing your threat. "As if I'd just hand myself over."

"I'm not sure if it'll be that easy, (Y/N)..." Kiritsubo glances at you with a hurt expression. "He's a terrifying, vengeful bastard."

"Not if we find him first and take him out." Murasaki counters with a glint of determination in his eyes. "Humans need to rest, don't they? We'll spend the night here and tomorrow we head out. Kiritsubo, find me a map so we can keep track of the locations. I'll bring the wood for a fire."

And with this, he marches out. Kiritsubo scurries to his duty and you quietly follow his movements. He seems to be used to executing Murasaki's orders. You hadn't considered their group dynamic much, but it appears to have some rather complex hierarchies involved. You almost wish you could witness all of them together, wondering how they'd interact with each other. 

Who knows? If you stick around, it could happen eventually. Murasaki was surprisingly easy to convince, so the other yokai might as well agree to keep you alive until you find their source of misfortune. Heh. Almost like a harem, or something. You snicker to yourself.

Which reminds you...

The fire has been lit and Murasaki mumbles something about guarding the perimeter. This time you hurry outside after him. You reach out to the dark haired man and pull on his kimono sleeve.

He turns to you, mildly irked.

"What?"

"Teach me how to use a sword." You state with the assertiveness of an order.

"Why? I can assure you I'm more than enough. I've never been defeated." He stares at you, incredulous.

"I don't want to rely on you all the time. You're already this close to being unbearable", you explain, pinching your fingers together. "Besides, if I'm going to be stuck among beasts, I'd very much prefer being the one doing the cool stuff."

And with that, you pretend to slice through an invisible enemy, whistling the sound of your sword cutting through the air. You furrow your eyebrows, imitating the engrossed expression of a seasoned samurai in the middle of a battleground. Murasaki quickly lifts a hand to his mouth - did he chuckle just now? - and responds, the faintest amusement in his voice:

"As you wish. But I'm warning you now, I won't hold back."

"I've been injured twice in less than 24 hours, I'm sturdy enough." You answer, patting your chest proudly.

Next time one of the Legendary Yokai comes for you, you won't be as vulnerable. That's for sure.

[artdcnaldson]

ok remember when I said that last ask was the horniest thing I'd ever written? Well scratch that bc this is a new record. (Obligatory disclaimer if you don't like it feel free to delete/ignore it)

Imagine- if you will- tashi bringing you to one of arts games. And you're in a sweet little tennis dress and you sit next to her and watch art, not even paying attention to the game just taking in his form, the shine of sweat, the concentration on his face, the little grunts and moans. And obviously you start shifting around in your seat, because, what are you supposed to be??? Dry???? No! So, it's the last break and tashi takes you to the bathroom and makes you lean over so she can check on the situation, and your white panties are so wet they're basically see through (in an ideal world she would've banned you from wearing any just to torture you but unfortunately they're famous and with the press and everything it's too much of a risk 😞 ) and you're really hoping she'll help you out but she just goes "hmm" and takes you back to your seat. And the breaks not over, arts noticed that yall were gone and he's making eye contact with tashi and she just. Nods at him. And he's already winning but for the rest of the match he's on fire, practically wiping the floor with the other guy.

After it's over and he's won and done all the press and stuff, you ride back to their hotel, with tashi in the middle bc she's the only one who can be trusted to keep control of herself. You and art are practically vibrating, with desire and exhilaration respectively. So you get back to the hotel room and tashi tells art to go sit on the couch. Then finally, she gives you a little jerk of her chin and you scramble to put yourself over his knee bc you know that he's always antsy after a win but tashi will want to go over everything while it's as fresh as possible, so you just hang out there and let him play with your sopping cunt and ignore you, just feeling him hard against your stomach but satiated for now since he has something to do while he listens to tashis critiques. When she's done she'll give you further instructions and maybe reward you for good behavior.

(am I gonna become a smut writer this is kinda fun)

I’m so fucking obsessed. I’m on my knees. Anything to keep Artashi happy 😁🫵 just look at them

Rating: E(18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v, face sitting, fingering, mild mommy/daddy kink, mild dom/sub dynamics) that’s it that’s the story. Just porn without plot

your brain is just sooo fuzzy and mindless while art’s playing with you. The cute shorts you wore beneath the dress tugged to the side, his fingers stuffed inside of you, your own juices smeared down your thigh, spilling more with each slow thrust of his fingers. It could be a few minutes, or an hour. You just know that you lose yourself in the rise and fall of Tashi’s voice as she runs through her notes, in the warm pressure of Art’s thighs pressing against you.

You must’ve gotten too loud, because Tashi’s kneeling in front of you— holding your chin in her hand, forcing eye contact. “Baby, how’s Art supposed to focus when you’re acting like this, huh? Tomorrow’s match is important, he needs to hear this.”

You whine. Big mistake. Tashi meets Art’s gaze, makes a face you don’t understand. And then Art’s slipping his fingers from your warm, needy cunt. “Clean him up,” Tashi instructs.

You wrap your lips around his fingers, sucking on them, cleaning any evidence of your arousal off. You take them deeper, feeling the brush of his fingers at the back of his throat. You moan softly— Tashi grabs your hair and pulls you off.

“Do you have any critiques for Art?” She asks. You blink slowly. Critiques?? What was there to critique?? “You were at the game. Show Art that you were paying attention.”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times as you looked into Art’s eyes. God, he was so pretty. And then your eyes traveled down, and he was so hard in his shorts that it was tenting the fabric. You just wanted to mouth at him through them, make him feel good. “I— I don’t.”

Tashi sighed, almost disappointed, but not really. Tennis critiques weren’t what you were there for. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” She patted your thigh. “Go lay down on the bed.”

You obey so sweetly— hands by your sides, fisted in the duvet so you won’t be tempted to touch yourself. Your thighs rub together as you seek friction, need pulsing between your thighs, adding to the mess of wetness.

It’s five minutes (which you know, because you count) until Tashi and Art join you. Art’s down to the fucking obscene briefs Tashi makes him wear, straining against the fabric obscenely. And Tashi’s wearing fucking agent provocateur, so beautiful that you could die happy just at the sight of her.

“If you paid attention to the match, we would’ve been really sweet to you,” Tashi hums as she takes off your dress. The shorts are soaked so badly that she practically peels them away from your cunt. “But all you could think about was getting fucked, huh?”

You nod as she presses two fingers between your lips, pushing all the way until she hits the back of your throat and you gag around them. She stays like that, thrusting her fingers between your lips, smiling every time your eyes fill with unshed tears and your throat constricts. “It’s been a long day. Just let mommy and daddy use you.”

And you do, because that’s all you can really ask for. Tashi slips off her lingerie, putting on a show without even trying. She straddles your face, knees planted on either side of your head, and sinks onto your waiting mouth.

You moan at the taste of her on your tongue, hands eagerly grabbing at her ass to pull her closer. Usually she would scold you for being greedy, but it was the farthest thing from her mind while she was benefiting from said neediness. You eagerly alternated between lapping at her dripping center and giving her clit the attention it needs.

And then there’s Art. He pulls apart your thighs and pushes into the tight, wet heat waiting for him there. You moan against Tashi’s cunt as he sinks inch after inch after inch inside. He groans at the feeling of your pussy gripping him, pulling him in, in, in. His grip on your hips is so tight it feels bruising.

You lose yourself in the two of them— brain going fuzzy and empty. All you knew, all that mattered in the moment was Tashi, and Art, and how good you felt.

And Tashi’s moaning above you— relishing in your need to please. Even with her husband balls deep inside of you, even with your mind so fuzzy, you keep your attention divided so fairly. You were so fucking nice, she didn’t even have to take the reins— she just got to sit there and let you work her with your tongue.

You were in fucking heaven. Art wasn’t content just using— it feels better when you cum while he’s inside of you. He moves you like a pretty little doll, adjusting you just right. He puts your legs over his shoulders so he gets deeper, kissing your cervix with each deep thrust. His thumb presses against your clit, rubs in slow circles.

Tashi cums first— hips stuttering as she grinds against your face. You relish in it, licking at her center as she comes down, until the lightest brush against her clit makes her twitch with overstimulation. She moves off of you, kissing you with slow, sweet laps of her tongue. You give a shuddery gasp into her mouth.

“Is daddy making you feel good?” Her words are cooed against your ear. You nod wordlessly, only capable of pretty moans or needy whines. She turns her gaze to Art, who’s already close as is, without the attention of his fucking perfect wife.

“Close,” Art groans, meeting her gaze. Her lips turn into an amused smirk as she pushes his thumb off of your clit, and replaces it with her own lithe fingers.

Your back arches as she works you with her fingers, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. Art continues to fuck into you. Each thrust is accompanied by lead, near pornographic sounds— the squelch of your soaked cunt swallowing his cock, the slap of his balls against your ass, the fucked-out moans passing his lips.

Your climax overtakes you suddenly. Your back arches off the bed as you cum. Your pussy clenches around Art’s cock as he continues to fuck into you, and your release leaves an obscene, creamy ring around the base of him. Tashi’s lips are on yours, swallowing down the moans and cries falling from your lips as Art fucks you into overstimulation.

Art buries himself within you as he cums, spilling into you with a few shallow thrusts. You whine when he finally pulls out and some of cum dribbles out, making an even bigger mess of the duvet.

Tashi pets your hair sweetly, kisses your sweat-sticky forehead. Art leaves to grab a towel— you hear him dampening it in the fancy en-suite bathroom. “By the way, I thought you shouldn’t get to cum.”

Art laughs lightly as he returns, cleaning you up between your thighs. “I told her I’d throw the match tomorrow, it always works.” He kisses you deeply, and you moan against his mouth. God, he was a good kisser.

“I can always just stop believing you,” Tashi reminded him. “Maybe I was in a giving mood.” Art snorts, you meet her gaze through narrowed eyes.

She’s right where she belongs. Art’s head is on her shoulder, yours rests on her chest. You’re all just a tangle of sweaty limbs.

TASHI DUNCAN I WONT U SO BAD 😚🫵

Sorry to Art he truly is a racket and a dick in this fic

[gojoscinnamonroll]

thinking about messing with ino! while he’s in the middle of a video game; he has been playing on that stupid game for what feels like hours and even though he’ll ask you every 10 minutes or so, “baby, are you okay?” “princess, do you need anything?” etc etc, you were still annoyed on how his video game had more of his attention than you.

so, when you finally got fed up and bored of lying on his bed scrolling mindlessly on tiktok, pinterest, instagram, and twitter on rotation for what feels like eons, you set your phone down and with a mischievous grin, walked over to him in his gaming chair and got on your knees. “whatcha doin’ pretty baby?” he asked with his eyes still glued to the screen, “oh, nothing… don’t mind me, just go back to playing your game ‘kay?” you looked up at him with a innocent smile. but in your head, you were thinking about how you were going to punish him for giving his attention to a stupid game on a tv than you being right in front of him and in his presence.

you started caressing at the bulge in his grey sweatpants and his breath hitched. ino was trying really hard to lock in and focus on getting his victory royale but he also wanted to just throw his controller across the room & watch you take him. “what’s wrong baby? thought you were too focused on your game? hm?” giving him a playful smile as you pull his length out of his sweatpants, pumping it a few times before pressing a kiss to his swollen tip already oozing with pre. "I- I am baby.." he exhaled as you felt him melt into your touch. you licked along the vein trailing down his cock slowly before enveloping him with your soft lips. he let out a low whine as you slowly take him whole. he didn't realize his character in game was dying over and over from being shot at because it wasn't moving until you stopped to look up at him with doe eyes and glossy lips, "focus.." you purred. "your game isn't going to win itself now is it?" he snapped out of his daze to focus on his game again, "y-yeah, you're right" he stuttered with flushed cheeks. you went back to stroking him again with delicate hands and your pretty mouth.

"f-fuuck mama, you f-feel so good" ino moaning as your head goes up and down him and gently playing with his balls overstimming him as he tries to concentrate on winning his game. teasing him, you trail a few kisses up and down his length as you murmured against him, "I'm sure I do..." still leaving kisses. "too bad you don't give your poor little girlfriend the same amount of attention as your silly little game."

whimpering, he starts to profusely apologize, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry baby, I'll get off the game and give you all my attention, I p-promise, you're making me feel so good, I-"

you interrupt him. "win this game for me and I'll let you be a good boy and cum down my throat" tapping his tip onto your pink, glossy pout with a pretend thinking face.

his eyes light up like a kid in a candy store and starts spamming all types of buttons on his controller eager to win this game as you continue to bobble down his cock, drool spilling from the sides of your lips and getting so sloppy that you can practically blow bubbles on him.

VICTORY ROYALE!! pops up and takes over the screen of the tv and he starts blabbering as he starts thrusting himself into your mouth, "baby baby baby baby can I- mmph.. can I c-cum please, please can I cum?" he throws the controller to the other side of the room and starts gripping onto the armrests of the game chair until his knuckles started turning white. "c'mon you nerd," you looked at him with lust in your eyes, "give it to me." as you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out for him to release his load down your throat.

"thankyouthankyouthankyou" he rambled as you milked him for all he had. "learned your lesson? you goof." you laughed.

"yes. yes i did." getting up from the chair and kicking the rest of his sweats off and throwing them to the side to lean down and pick you up princess style and laying you down in the bed.

"now i'm going to make it up to you, your highness" kissing your hand teasingly and sliding your shorts off.

likes + reblogs appreciated <3 please don't steal/copy/modify my works!

[sugar-plum-writer]

Box Me Hard Tonight Boxer <3

Tags: Crazy sex; Nanami losing his mind; NSFW and more NSFW; Boxing terms not used the way boxing terms ought to be used cough; Nanami in a rut being hard and rough; is it even Nanami anymore? what have you done to him?; Fem!reader x Boxer!Nanami Kento; established relationship; marriage; MDNI; (18+)

A/n: I had the most delusional Nanami imagination. Normally I don't write him as I cannot write him properly. But today he summoned me to write on him. And thank you for 200+ followers! I am so happy and am kicking my feet right now! I have opened my asks feel free to check out the pinned post in my blog for more info on asks~

Synopsis: What happens when the promised surprise is you riling him up and breaking the control over himself he had so carefully crafted?

Word count: 1.8k

[Pic not mine I randomly found it on the internet; I'll change it the owner requests ]

Kento Nanami was a boxer turned UFC Champion-infamous worldwide for his tactics and combos, calm demeanor, polite nature but brutal and efficient fighting tactics.

Nanami focuses only on you as you rush towards him screaming in happiness, throw yourself over him and he holds you tight burying his head in the crook of your neck and inhales your scent god you smelled delicious

He had hustled towards you immediately once he was free from the press; had the seats specifically saved for you. You only deserve the best: the front row seats, the closest to his corner as the love of his life.

"Baby" he smiled at you softly compared to his ruthlessness in the ring as the reporters crowd around you and him trying to capture your pictures. He is a star, the sole focus- the champion the only "Kento Nanami"

His muscles flexed as the sweat dripped making his body glisten under the lights.

"Kento! we won! yay!", you kissed him excited unbothered by the people around wrapping your arms around his neck

"Yes, we did" he hums and melts under your kiss with a slight groan as he kisses you back, "So sweet- I can never get enough"- his fingers dig into the fabric of your shirt not wanting to let you go.

As the mob gets more violent trying to click pictures, the bodyguards around you struggle to keep them away. Seeing the crowd he immediately scooped you in his arms, "Let's go home, love", he smiled softly as he carried you effortlessly

"Yes Darling let's go home~", you chuckle as his bodyguards in a matter of seconds have you two inside the car through the back door.

"You were so amazing Kento!", you look at him your eyes beaming with happiness, "It's all because of your love and support darling", he kissed you softly as the car started moving

"Kento~ haha!" you laugh as he kisses you and you kiss him back, "Love let's go for a vacation, where do you want to go hm?", he looks at you lovingly. Every time Kento had his match; after the match, you guys would go to for vacation to relax and unwind.

The car ride continues peacefully as you and Kento keep chatting, "Kento you know~ I have something special prepared for you today", you look at him playfully as his eyebrows arch intrigued

"What is love?", he chuckles as he looks at you amused, his hand finds its way to your thighs, caressing small circles into it as he hums softly. Squeezing your thighs.

"It's a surprise~ be patient Kento", you giggle as you rest your head on his shoulder and pat his crotch area making him hard, "Be good for me won't you?"

Let grunted and looked into your eyes hotly as if wanting to stuff you full with him right this instant, "Fine- I'll behave for you love…", his hot breath making you shiver as he whispered, "If only I get a reward later"

Soon you guys arrive home; Nanami gives you his hand to take as he helps you get out of the car and kisses your knuckles lovingly but- the moment the door opens and shuts behind the two of you, he's on you immediately- pinning you against his large frame on the wall.

His hand finds you on your cheek, tilting your face up as he kisses you deeply; your tongues intertwined. Wanting to taste you like a man who finally found an oasis in the desert; he kisses you even harder.

"I cannot be patient"- he looks at you in the eyes hungrily, his hands touching and squeezing your body as he fondles your breasts; wrapping your thighs around his waist- picking you up into his arms as he walks to your shared bedroom

"Ah-Nanamin" you moan as he kisses you hard biting your lips and nibbling on them, "Nanamin hah-" you look at him breathlessly, "Box me hard in the bed won't you?" you whisper as you wrap your hands around his neck making him freeze

"What?", his eyes darken, "Is that a proposal love?", his breath gets heavy as his lips hover above yours

"Do you like it?", you cheekily kiss him and smile teasingly making him lose his composure, "Love it to the ring baby", he whispers making you blush;

He pulls you into another kiss making you moan this one being rougher, hungry, and, full of carnal desire; "Ah- hah Kento ah", you moan against his lips as his hands slide under your shirt taking it off you, his teeth graze your neck before leaving bites leaving a hickey as you squirm

"Kento", you moan as he kisses you deeply once again and pulls away leaving a string of saliva, "Yes darling?" he chuckles as he removes his shirt gazing at your body, his toned muscles flexing themselves under the dim light- a confident smirk is on his lips- a completely different look than how he normally looks at you, what happened to him?

"I wonder", You look at him up and down as you touch his v-line making him groan, "Baby this is a dangerous game you are playing", he whispers with his cock twitching in his pants- oh how badly he wanted to touch him their and milk his cock with your pretty hands

"Hah~", you smirk as you look into his eyes, "Really? well, I wonder how hard my boxer can knock me out tonight~", you smirk with your words instantly sending goosebumps up his spine

"You are just asking to be punished aren't you?" he groans as his fingers dig deeper into your waist your words stirring something carnal inside him- he always likes to be gentle with you- loves you and treats you like the treasure you are, but your words are slowly eating away his control bit by bit

"Punish?", you smirk determined to break his composure to see what animalistic desires hide behind his calm demeanor. You have seen him when he boxes- that hint of insanity in his eyes makes you squeeze your legs together so tight- making you desire him so much it's embarrassing

"Why? will you box my pussy till it's stuffed and knocked out all sloppy?", you smirk and say as you spread your legs open making his breath hitch and his cock harden even more as he gazes at you and that damp spot on your panties- the spot so reserved for him and his dick

"Baby.." he leans in close so fast making you jump back, "Do you know what you are saying huh?" he whispers as he lowers his head and with his teeth rips your panties off throwing them off god knows where animalistically officially losing it; making you shudder as goosebumps spread all over your skin.

Oh shit- Oh shit you fucked up big time, you have never seen Nanami like this

But you aren't done yet hell you planned all kinds of vulgar things just to rile him up with a sharp breath you look at him and he notices as a devilish grin spreads across his lips

"Hah" you lean in and hotly whisper near his ears as his grip hardens on your hips bruising them and making you wince in pain, "Ya know… How about… You give me a fast jab with your dick-", you moan, "Then flip me over and do an uppercut as you fill me up-", his nails dig even deeper and he bites your shoulder bruising you like an animal in heat, "You slut you will be the death of me" he whispers and groans

"Then a side punch into my pussy from your dick as you fuck me from the side…and" your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes because of the pain but it felt so good, "Make me sit on top of you and do fast combos of uppercuts huh?"

Without any warning he stuffs his dick into your pussy roughly making you clench hard- your cunt desperately cries sloppily not used to harshness as she's always been treated like a princess not like a whore; working hard to adjust to his dick as he ruthlessly bullies his length inside you "Fuck" he groaned, "You are driving me crazy"

"Ah-hah-" you moan desperately, your nails digging into his back as he thrusts deep inside of you- hard, fast, and deep wanting to feel every inch of you around him, "Shit Kento! ahhh-", tears spill out of your eyes as you moan; your body aches with every insane thrust

"Hah-", he pants "You're absolutely mine, split so prettily on my dick my darling wife" he hungrily kisses you as his dick keeps moving, his one hand pinning your wrists above your head

There was not a hint of rationality behind his eyes as he was in a rut and just kept fucking you, even after you orgasm he kept going, fucking you through so many orgasms you'd lost count god he was treating you like a prostitute

Your eyes roll back at the sheer intensity wondering how you are even alive right now, "Kento- ah…hah~" you moan as your voice cracks, "Fuck- so perfect, so dirty and wet all for me hah", his hand bruised your skin where ever they touched

Your brain is so cock drunk you drool as he keeps going. He flips you over burying your face in the pillow roughly, his grip hard on your head and neck choking you all out as your vision goes white, "Kento- ah…I love you so much…I love your dick so much ah", you blurt out and choke even more as his grip on your neck makes you faint as you clench around him desperately not wanting to let go

"Oh yeah? Do you love my dick? Then take it like a good bitch! Don't dare let a single drop go to waste", his pace increases even more, making you go numb from sheer pleasure as your hands mindlessly scramble to grip the sheets to hold on for dear life as moans spill out from your mouth like a porn actress

"So fucking good!" he grunts and tosses his head back pussy drunk, you felt so good around him he can fuck you for days and nights just like that.

"ah- hah Kento-" you moan crazily as he and you reach the peak of your animalistic rut and desire, "Naughty girl.." he moans as he shudders with his climax approaching and he cums inside you hard painting your insides white, filling you up to the brim inside your womb, "You'll break my dick" he groaned as he panted heavily

"Hah…Kento…'tis so full ah…" you feel your brain short circuit as you knock yourself out dumb oozing out cum

Looking at you so fucked up, so messy, aroused him even more, his eyes darkens again with insanity behind them, "Don't knock yourself out now…you asked for this..I'm not gonna stop until you're a quaking mess" he whispers hotly near your ears nibbling on it as he sees his cum drip out of you; making his dick still hard enough to keep you up all night.

A full hand-on session of 'Technical Knockout' live; all by Nanami Kento for the love of his life

Link to masterlist!

[blackleatherjacketz]

Shadow and Sin: Chapter 9

Elijah Mikaelson, Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: Having recently moved to New Orleans, you get intimately acquainted with both Mikaelson brothers, but don't find out who they are until it's too late.

This Chapter: Klaus pleads his case as you wrestle with guilt, while Elijah attempts to ease your mind the old fashioned way.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, Love Triangle, Infidelity, Klaus Pinning You Against the Wall, Shoving, Neck Kissing, Licking, Elijah Undressing You, Kissing, Massage, Nipple Play, Vaginal Fingering, Lying, Manipulation, Compulsion, Blood, Sweat, Tears, ANGST

Word Count: 3.2k+

Read the rest of the story HERE

His brother? Elijah? Did you really just hear him correctly? No. No, that can’t possibly be true. They look nothing alike! And can vampires even BE brothers, especially if Klaus is over a thousand years old, like he said? Maybe it’s just some weird figure of speech and not an actual term. Or maybe it’s just part of the vampire lore that only the elder insiders know about? You can’t…no… this can’t be happening! Either way, you can’t deny that you’re in deep trouble here. It’s only a matter of time before you get found out, and you can’t imagine that either of them will take it very well.

Time to put that guard up.

“Well, half brother, if you want to get into the specifics, but that’s a story for another time, love.” Klaus’ blonde lashes flutter across your cheek as he kisses the skin of your chin and jawline while you tremble with guilt. He doesn’t seem to be worried about the idea of Elijah right now, so you welcome his continued seduction with a sigh of relief as it helps throw him off the scent. You force a smile as he slowly releases the vice-like grip he has on your wrists only to ghost his hands down your forearms, forcing you to shiver.

“Oh, really?” you whisper as your bloodstream plays host to an increased supply of oxytocin, chemically connecting your body to his no matter how badly your brain wants them to separate. “So do you have, like a whole family of vampire siblings living under one roof?” You jest, only to be met by his thumbs playfully digging into your axilla before squeezing their way down your sides.

“Maybe I do, but it looks like we both have surprise siblings that neither of us knew about until today. It really begs the question though, are there any other secrets that you’re hiding from me, hmm? A husband, a wife, a child?” His mouth moves down to your neck as you shake your head in response, licking the path of your pulse as it continues to throb against his tongue.

“Klaus,” you groan, trying to focus solely on the mental image of your brother instead of Elijah rocking his hips into you, those gorgeously lust-blown eyes of his nearly blacking out completely. That’s something you could never forget, but you shove it into the back of your mind for the time being, anyways. “Klaus, we can’t do this, I’m at work!”

“Oh don’t worry, love. I’ve compelled everyone on this floor to forget that I came here tonight, to forget that you ever left your post.” He pulls back just enough to look you in the eye with a reassuring wink.

“Compelled?” You push your palm against his chest to put some distance between you, secretly hating yourself for cutting off that rush of hormones that set your skin on fire. “What do you mean, compelled?” You need more of an explanation than just the context clues he’s barely giving you.

“Well, if you must know, it’s one of the many gifts that comes with immortality; a sure fire way to get others to do what we want, to cover our tracks.” His hands rest gently against your hips, his thumbs rubbing the skin beneath your scrubs as he explains himself.

“Like mind control?” You had dated some seriously manipulative men in your day, but this really takes the cake. If he can really do that, can they all do it? Can Elijah?

“Think of it more as… the power of persuasion. I could compel your boss to give you a raise right now, Marjorie to give back your favorite pen that she stole, or your patients to stay in bed. But instead I chose to compel every last one of my men to protect you, to keep you safe from any harm that may come your way. You won’t have to worry about any more attacks in the quarter, love, you or your brother.”

Damn. Well, that’s a relief, you guess.

“Wait, have you ever compelled me before?” Your logic finally kicks back in, trying it’s best not to get led astray by his silver tongue and good looks, which isn’t as easy as it sounds.

He pauses and takes a breath, smirking while he chooses his next words very carefully. “The thing I love most about you is that I’ve never felt the need to compel you before.” He weaves his web of words with such eloquent precision, it’s almost impossible to tell if there’s any bit of truth in them. “I’ve compelled people in the past to lie, cheat and steal for me, even to kill for me if the occasion calls for it, but in the end it’s just not as fun as earning their loyalty the old fashioned way.

“Compelling you to act any differently, to be anybody else would just be too boring, and you’re anything but boring, love. You find death just as beautiful and vibrant as I do. It’s apparent in your art and your choice to work here as your patients tiptoe that flimsy tightrope between life and death. You get off on the power you hold over it, the power you have to stop it, to prolong it. In the end, you and I aren’t that different after all.” He strokes your hair affectionately, looking longingly into your eyes as he waits for you to respond.

“You think so?” You reply dumbly as if you’re blown away by his words, trying to really sell the idea of being on board with his ethics of compelling people against their will.

“I left you a note at the nurse’s station next to a cup of chicory coffee from your favorite cafe. Meet me at that address tomorrow night, then we can really begin to flesh out our epic masterpiece… but only if you want to.”

————————

Klaus’ words haunt you well into your much needed shower after work as you try to wash his scent out of your hair and off of your skin. You scrub the wash cloth over your body more times than you care to admit, letting the soap lather up to a ridiculous level before rinsing off in the steaming stream of water. Once you finally reach the level of cleanliness that you desire, you step out of the shower and dry your hair, switching the towel around before wrapping it around your body.

You rotate your scrubs over from the washer to the dryer, making sure to eradicate any of Klaus’ scent from them as well, hoping that Elijah won’t catch on to your surprise visitor at work. You’re sure that he would take the news better than Klaus would, but there’s no telling how merciful a ruthless vampire like him could react when he’s betrayed, no matter how refined he seems so far.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Elijah’s voice is just above a whisper as he enters your apartment through the balcony, your purple curtains surrounding him in the breeze of dawn, staging him to look like your beloved phantom. His suit is littered with streaks of crimson, the truth about his nature staring you right in the face as he slowly takes a step toward you with an outstretched hand.

Perfect timing, as always.

“I just had a really rough day at work.” You mutter, letting your hand instinctively slip inside his fingers as he draws you near. You aren’t necessarily lying to him, but you can’t bear to tell him the whole truth yet either. “That’s all.”

Had he been with Klaus earlier tonight? Had they killed someone together? Compelled them to stay calm, not to scream or run away before they drank their blood until there was nothing left? Had they done it so many times in their endless lives together that they don’t even register it as something bad anymore? How could someone so calm and considerate like Elijah be related to someone so fiercely aggressive as Klaus? Even worse, how could someone like you who claims to be such a good person be attracted to both of them despite it all?

The reality of your situation slowly begins to set in now that you’re free of Klaus’ pheromones, the brutal truth of what you have to do now more obvious than ever. You have to leave. It’s the only logical course of action. If you stay and choose Klaus, you’ll have to deal with seeing Elijah every day, and you’ll be heartbroken as you keep that secret between you… if he’s even kind enough to keep it. If you stay and choose Elijah, you can only imagine what maniacally violent punishment Klaus might dole out to you in retaliation… and to his brother. And if you stay and choose neither of them, well… the odds just aren’t really in your favor, are they?

Damn your libido!

“Are you alright?” Elijah asks softly, placing a single chaste kiss on the nape of your neck as his other hand holds onto your waist, calming your nerves somehow. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I umm…” You try to disguise the weight of your dilemma as best you can, all while telling him something along the lines of the truth. “This patient of mine, she doesn’t know how much time she has left. She thought it was just a simple stomach ache, maybe a food allergy or a survivable chronic illness like Crohn’s, but now they’re testing her for something more serious, for something fatal.”

“I’m so sorry.” His free hand undoes the loose knot of your towel, setting your naked body free as he sends the terry cloth falling silently to the floor. “She must be terrified.”

“She is,” you admit, relishing in the comfort of his touch as he navigates his palms over your breasts and belly as if they’re precious jewels to be treasured. “But the choices she’s made up until now can’t be taken back, can’t be erased no matter how hard she wishes they could be.”

Elijah’s lips part as he takes you in, his features softening before shrugging out of his jacket and tie. “Even those of us who live forever wish we could turn back time, that we could take back certain decisions.” He sets his clothes on the back of a chair and unbuttons his collar. “Your job has to be filled with people who are shrouded in regret.”

“It is.” You help him unbutton the rest of his shirt, recognizing that this may be the very last time he holds you in his arms before the truth comes out, before it’s all over. That bittersweet realization fills your eyes with tears that aren’t quite heavy enough to fall onto your cheeks as you look down at his navel before pulling his perfectly pressed shirt off his torso.

Good God, you’re going to miss this. You’re going to miss him.

Elijah takes your hand as his shirt falls to the floor next to your towel and guides you over to the couch, setting you in between his legs with his chest against your back. “And what are your patient’s options? What can she do?” He kisses his questions between your shoulder blades as his fingers massage your aching muscles, releasing the tension in your body the way that only he can. You swear that one of his immortal gifts is the strength in his magical fingers, and you can already imagine how many tears you’ll cry the next few nights in your bed without them. But for now, you’ve got to put on a brave face.

“She could make a drastic life change that might give her a sliver of a chance at survival.” You blink your tears into your lashes before closing your eyes as he continues to knead his thumbs against your skin, replacing your sorrow with a deep somatic pleasure. “But she wonders if it’s too late, if she’s in too deep to even make any kind of a difference.”

“That sounds very bleak, little Lotte.” He rubs his hands over your shoulders and up the back of your neck, collecting your hair at the top of your head to better massage your scalp as you languidly drop your chin to your chest. He grins as your rapid breathing eventually slows to a cool, measured rhythm with each pass of his fingers, the pressure slowly increasing before his hands finally venture down toward the peaks and valleys of your chest.

“I know, I feel terrible.” You mumble as he pinches your nipples, twisting them hard enough for your muscles to tighten back up, ruining all the work that he’d just done to get you relaxed. You lean back against him with a needy moan, your head resting on his shoulder as you feel his heart beating faster, his own arousal grows against the expensive fabric of his pants.

“Why don’t you let me take your mind off of it for a while?” His hand travels down your stomach as he whispers into your ear, sending tingling waves of warmth up your spine as it wastes no time in settling in between your thighs. He kisses your lips with a smile as he feels your body writhe against his, urging him to continue as his fingers take the hint and eagerly glide in between your dripping wet folds, building those waves even taller than before.

“Mmm hmm,” you moan your stuttered approval, suspending your fear for one more night as you practically fall limp in his arms. “I think I’ll let you do that.”

————————

You wake the next morning without him next to you, without his arms to wrap around you with a sleepy groan that you’ve almost gotten used to, without his chin nuzzling into the nape of your neck, pleading for five more minutes in bed with you. Those five minutes almost always turned into ten more of him thrusting inside you, working each and every muscle awake the old fashioned way as sweat dripped down his chest and melted between your thighs and his hips. But not today.

Today starts with you reluctantly opening your eyes, reaching over to the empty spot on your bed that he’d recently filled as his smoky scent lingers on your sheets and pillowcase. You inhale his aroma one last time before forcing yourself upright, greeted at least by a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen and a note next to it saying that he has business to tend to today. You pick it up and sigh with a sad smile, wishing you were awake enough to watch him walk out your door one last time, but decide that it’s all for the best, and get dressed for the day with a heavy heart.

After waiting a few painstaking hours in a cafe down the street for your phone to finally get fixed, you decide to drop by your brother’s place to see how he’s doing, holding your breath in anticipation as you wait for him to open the door after you knock three times.

“Hey loser, what’s up?” Austin seems rather surprised to see you, his expression more tired and worn than usual.

“Oh, thank God!” You wrap your arms around your brother as if your memory of being concerned for his life suddenly returns just by seeing his face. That’s funny, you don’t remember being worried about what happened to him after the night of the attack, but that doesn’t really make any sense, now does it? “I’m so glad you’re okay! I didn’t know what happened to you after…”

“Of course I’m okay, and what are you talking about?” He looks you up and down like you’ve lost your mind, like you have lobsters crawling out of your ears. “And you usually call first before you come over, are you sure everything’s alright?”

“No!” You pause, studying his features to see if he’s attempting to play some kind of prank on you or something. How could he not remember? “My phone got shattered the other night, remember? I just got it fixed.” You barge into his apartment like you own the place, shocked that he even has to ask you about it. Was he feeling alright? Were you?

He continues to stare at you as you wander aimlessly around his living area, completely bewildered.

“You mean to tell me that yours is fine? That your phone survived the attack without even a crack, a dent, nothing?! They roughed both of us up pretty bad that night, I can’t believe you don’t even have a scratch on you.”

“Doing what? And you should talk, you don’t have any marks on you, either, sis.” He seems genuinely confused as he hurriedly shuts the door behind you and locks it behind you. “Look, is everything alright? Did you hit your head or something? Are you talking about the night that we had dinner together? When you ran into your buddy Elijah and I had to walk the rest of the way home by myself?”

“Yes!” You nod, folding your arms across your chest. Now you’re getting somewhere.

He rolls his eyes. “You were supposed to be my designated walker that night, by the way.” He walks over to the couch and plops down with a loud, disappointed sigh, a sound you know all too well. “Thanks for nothing, I guess. I hope you at least got laid, or some free drinks. That guy reeks of money.”

Holy shit, Elijah compelled him to forget everything about the attack that night. It really does work. Fuck, you’re in trouble!

You sit down on the couch next to your brother, looking him deep in the eye. “You really don’t remember anything else about that night, do you?”

“No.” He sits up straight and looks at you solemnly, placing a steady hand on your shoulder. “Sis, what the fuck is going on? You’re scaring me.”

You consider telling him the truth about everything you’ve been through these past few weeks, about Elijah and Klaus, about vampires and witches, but all the sudden you see the benefit of compulsion. You see that wiping someone’s memory of an event or a person isn’t always necessarily a bad thing. It can keep your brother safe and in the dark while the creatures of the night lurk around the corners of the city feasting on the innocent while he remains none the wiser. Maybe it’s better if you leave him like this, to continue on believing only in the things that he can explain with laws and logic.

“Maybe it was just a bad dream.” You whisper softly, looking down at your feet before glancing back up at him. “Sometimes they just seem so real, you know?” You bite your lower lip as a mixture of guilt and futility washes over you, almost triggering those tears to come back with a vengeance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” You take a deep breath and ruffle his hair before standing up from the couch, realizing that you’re on your own with this from here on out. It’s probably better to keep him out of the mess you’ve created for yourself. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Alright, but… don’t be a stranger, okay? And if you need anything, anything real, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I promise.” You hug him before seeing yourself out, walking down the street toward the bus station before everything goes black.

--------------

Tags: @hcqwxrtss123 @hayleym1234 @derangedangel @spnaquakindgdom @natalie668 @arbesa-mind

[queercoshon]

A Kept Play Thing Pt. 2

(You can read the whole story at once on my deviantart, feedtheboi)

Now the tray contains 6 breakfast sandwiches on vanilla glazed doughnuts instead of english muffins, enough hashbrowns to feed 4 people with no other sides, a container of strawberries with yogurt dip, and 2 milkshakes that you don't know are spiked. The pineapple coconut has 3 shots of rum and a shot of coconut liqueur, and the chocolate one is infused with THC.

You get to work right away. You suck down half the pineapple milkshake and 3 of the sandwiches in the blink of an eye, completely overwhelmed by the need to consume. You throw back more beer and use the carbonation to dislodge a string of heavy burps.

Now you are so drunk things sway a little. You giggle as you reach for the bong and miss it the first time before lighting up and taking a long draw. Olivia was so good at keeping it clean and freshly packed for you. You manage to grab the tin tray of hashbrowns and load them with ketchup and cheese curds. Then you turn what little attention you had to the TV that was constantly on, putting your eating on autopilot.

You mindlessly shovel loaded potato after potato into your mouth, sometimes taking a good drink of either milkshake, and of course more beer. Your head is sooo fuzzy and your body so warm. You feel like you were watching your body expand with every bite. You couldn't stop yourself from eating when in a trance like this.

You hit your first wall with maybe a fifth of the tray left. Your gut gurgles testily, absolutely stretched out and burbling with fatty foods and booze. Your upper belly juts out further than the bottom of your belly hang and is as hard as a rock under the inches of flab. Your breath hitches and your pray you didn't get hiccups. Those were painful at this stage.

You sit back and moan, rubbing your gut as gingerly as possible. In your state, it is not very gingerly. And this far gone, you can't help give it a few jostles to bounce it on your crotch. You gasp and automatically reach for a milkshake, finishing off the chocolate flavour entirely.

Now you're so inebriated you feel like you phase in and out of existence. The weight of your stomach pins you down, and all you can do is stare at the ceiling, glassy-eyed and drooling a little. Your hands keep working at your flabby gut, releasing belches that just fall from your mouth.

Some amount of time passes, you have no idea how much, and you start to come back to earth a little. You look back at your tray and light another hit of your bong. Your mouth should never be idle.

You look at another beer, but the thought of it makes your belly flip, so you suck back almost all of the last milkshake. A new round of drunk washes over you, and you start working through those sandwiches and strawberries.

Now you're much sloppier. You have to really focus on getting the next bites into your mouth. Some yogurt dip ends up on your face, but it's impressive you can even you can coordinate picking up the strawberry, dipping it, and bringing your hand to your mouth at all.

You get through all of the strawberries, the last of the milkshake, the rest of the potatoes, and 2 of the sandwiches. One sandwich left.

You feel like you can hear your stomach creaking now. Every breath is a struggle. Every burp and drunken hiccup makes you fear vomiting everything back up. Sweat drips down your forehead, and you find you can't lean forward to get the last sickly sweet sandwich. Once again, you are pinned to your spot.

Your eyes feel swollen they're so dry, and cottonmouth is taking over with the milkshakes gone. You only have beer left, but you're so drunk your chin has started falling to your fat chest if you stop focusing on keeping your head up. Your overburdened body feels so light and so heavy at the same time. You try several times to reach for the beer, but you can't lift your arm much higher than the crest of your belly before you lose control and it falls back down. You are truly gone. Stoned out of your mind, too drunk to form a coherent thought, and so stuffed one wrong move could make you burst. Completely helpless.

It can't have been more than five minutes of suffering in your semi-catatonic state when you somehow register the click of the front door. Like a summoned angel, Olivia has arrived in your time of need.

You can't look up without the world spinning, but you know she's entered the room by the sound of her chuckle.

"Oh, piggy. You were so close. A little bit too full?"

You let out a rumbling burp in response.

She starts dragging her nails over your taut flesh, and it's like sparks dance across your skin. You try to hold back a high-pitched gasp, but it's jostled out of you along with several burps as Olivia adds pressure to your gut. You devolve into pained and desperate moans burps and hiccups, making all of your fat jiggle constantly.

"So tell me, baby, why is there food left?" She plants kisses on your belly, and the feeling lingers on your skin, making every nerve jolt awake. You can barely think as it is, and now she expects a verbal answer.

"I -hic- couldnn reachit -hicURP-" your chin lulls back down, and your hiccups start in earnest. Your gut moves as one giant orb now, bouncing on your crotch. Had you tried, you would have realised this was the first time you couldn't reach around your belly to get off.

Her eyes glint as she kisses up your many necks and flicks a nipple, making you gasp and throb.

"Oh? Did piggy get beached? Did I put it too far away?"

You try to nod, but you get one head motion before it falls back down. Fuck you are so drunk your body won't follow any direction at all.

"I'll put it closer to you next time. Now, let's get the rest of this in you." Olivia shoves the last sandwich in your mouth as you once again fire off a burp. You're taken completely by surprise, and while your body won't obey you, it will certainly obey her, so you take a massive bite and swallow. Your moans and grumbles of weak protest are silenced by another bite.

It takes about ten minutes, but she gets the rest of the sandwich in your mouth. You pant, hiccup, and burp, a cacophony of hedonistic indulgence.

Olivia straddles one of your meaty thighs and begins to rub your belly in earnest, but letting her hands wander to whatever fold of fat she felt like fondling.

"You've been such a good piggy today. Look at you. Completely stuck. You could burst." She lifts your chin up to meet her gaze, and her eyes are dark. "How do you feel, pig?"

She wants you to answer verbally. Your slurring and struggling is enough to make her start dripping. Right now you don't know if you can form even a full word.

Her nails dig into your stomach and you wince.

"Answer me."

You moan and try. "I'm sho -hic- full, Liv. It -burrp Hic- hurts to -hic- breave." You belch and she drops your chins. As your head falls to the side, she becomes ravenous, and suddenly her rubs, grabs, and kisses get desperate.

"You're such a desperate hog. Always gorging. You haven't been sober since the day you moved in."

Her tongue traces along your purple hued stretch marks, and she grabs your love handles and shakes, making your entire body wobble. Your gut slaps your thighs and crotch, and you see stars.

"Liv, -UUrapp- pleash -hic-"

She rubs your fat chest, her eyes glinting. "What do you want, pet?"

"I want...-hic- mae me huuge. Just a -hUrrp- ball... urr plaything."

Olivia moans and grinds down on your meaty leg, pressing her lithe body into your pillowy excess. Every movement is shaking burps out of you. Heat pulses from your crotch, to your finger tips and toes, to the tip of your head and back of your eyes, to the center of your beyond aching gut.

"Fuuu...me"

She breathes in your ear and her hands work down your flab. "What was that, pig?"

"Mmmm, fuck -urrrp- fuck me!"

Finally, she obliges.

[dark-and-kawaii]

─ ⊹ ⊱ The Realization ⊰ ⊹ ─

Prt. 1

Summary: Zevlor awaits for Lofn to return, and as she returns he finds her collapsing into his arms~

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ Pairing: Zevlor x F!Tav/Lofn

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ Content: Hurt/Comfort - Injury - Worried Zevlor - Realizing Feelings

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ Notes: Please Enjoy xoxo

The sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over the druids grove, and the forest was growing quiet as all the animals and insects settled in for the night. Her steps were unsteady, and she nearly fell several times as she made it to the gates that kept those inside safe, but still she pushed herself forward, knowing that it was not much further.

Lofn leaned her hand against the wall next to the gate, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, her vision blurry before she steadied herself, wiping the sweat that adorned her head with a shaky hand. Her entire body ached, and the exhaustion threatened to overcome her at any moment, but she was not weak, she wouldn't allow herself to give into that feeling… not when she was so close to telling Zevlor the good news.

As she made her way into the grove, she saw Zevlor standing at the ready, the worry on his face clear. He opened his mouth to say something, but she put up her hand to stop him, “I'm fine, please. Don't worry about me.”

He swallowed whatever he was going to say and simply nodded his head, “I assume you have something to report then...?”

“I do,” She smiled, her body slowly moving towards him, her hips swaying with that powerful, yet confident walk of hers, “The goblins... The goblin camp…” each step feeling heavier than the last, her words getting more strained as she pushed herself, “it's clear. You and your people... you can start your…”

“Lofn, are you well?” Zevlor's voice was filled with disquiet as he reached out to steady her. She tried to nod, to reassure him, but her body betrayed her. With a stuttering “yes,” her knees buckled giving way as her vision finally faded. The last thing she remembered was the warmth of Zevlor's arms around her as she collapsed.

Catching her just in time, his strong arms cradled her gently as he lowered Lofn to the ground. Her head came to rest on his knee, and he bent over her, his eyes searching her face for any sign of what was wrong. She was pale, her skin cold and clammy to the touch, “Lofn! What is it? What's wrong?” his voice urgent, but she didn't respond-

“Lofn!?” His voice cracked with the sudden realization of her condition.

Her hand slowly came up to grip her side subconsciously, and as his gaze followed the movement, that's when he saw it- blood, dark and ominous, pooling around her fingers, seeping through her clothes... the mere thought of losing her made his stomach churn...

“Oh Gods... No…” he whispered, his hands trembling, “no…” Being the commander of the Hellriders, Zevlor had seen many things, been on the battlefield countless times, but this- this was different... Zevlor had been trained to remain calm, to focus on the situation, to stay in control... But right now he couldn't, and he didn't care, the thought of her dying- “Tilly!” he shouted, cutting off his own thoughts, his voice carrying through the grove.

“Commander!-“ Tilly responded, rushing up to him, her gaze shifting from Zevlor to Lofn, “Oh- Oh Gods, Sir, I- what happened-?!”

“She's been injured.” Zevlor spoke quietly, the emotion clear in his voice. He couldn't look up, couldn't meet her eyes, far too afraid that if he looked away Lofn's heart would stop beating, “Badly.” he replied, his voice tight with fear as he quickly began to work on Lofn's leather armor, careful not to cause more damage. When he pulled the leather corset away, it revealed a gruesome wound. The edges were dark and swollen, purpleish green veins pulsating beneath the skin around the wound as if she had been poisoned... This was out of either of their hands, and they both knew it.

Zevlor's jaw clenched, they'd need one of the druids... But the druids all looked at the them like foulboods now too... No, they would save her- after everything she had done for them...

“Tilly…” He hesitated for a second fearing the worst should they deny their plead, “Fetch one of the Druids.”

“But! The druids hate us and wish to see us leave! They will not listen to-“

“Explain the situation. They can't ignore this nor will I let her die because the Druids are blinded by their pride- Or whatever it is that's going on with them.” He growled, the frustration and anger evident in his tone.

Tilly's mouth shut, and her expression softened as she realized the situation. With a quick nod, she turned and ran, disappearing down the path towards the center of the grove, leaving Zevlor alone with Lofn.

“Lofn, stay with me,” his hand pressed gently against the wound, hoping to slow the bleeding. She winced at the contact, and her face twisted in pain, her mouth gasping, “Forgive me.” he murmured, “Help is coming. Just hold on.”

“I'm sorry…” her voice was barely audible as she took a shallow, ragged breath.

“Don't be," he replied, his voice firm, You risked yourself to help us- to protect and save us. Now let us save you.”

A small smile touched her lips, before she faded once again into unconsciousness.

Zevlor watched her silently, his gaze fixed on her.

Minutes felt like hours as Zevlor held Lofn, his hands slick with her blood until finally Tilly returned, a druid in tow. Rath's expression was grim as he knelt beside Lofn, his hands glowing with healing magic, “Poison, and a nasty one too.”

“Can you save her?” Zevlor asked.

Rath looked up at Zevlor, “It will be difficult, but yes. I can save her.”

Zevlor moved his hand, allowing Rath to place his over the wound... The older tiefling watched anxiously as the druid worked, his heart in his throat.

After what felt like an eternity, the glow of his magic faded, and he looked up at Zevlor. “The poison was strong, but I've done what I can. She needs rest and time to heal. Keep her warm and let her sleep.”

“Thank you, Rath.” Zevlor nodded, relief flooding through him. Gently and attentively, he picked Lofn up, cradling her in his arms as he carried her back to where he slept, away from the others where she could get some rest and privacy. She had sacrificed her safety for them all, so sacrificing his bed roll was a small price to pay.

As he laid her down carefully, he pulled the blankets over her, his hands delicate so as not to wake her, “I know you can't hear me, but thank you… For everything.”

Pulling up his wooden chair, Zevlor sat by Lofn's side, his eyes heavy with exhaustion but unwilling to leave her for even a moment. The night had grown quiet, the occasional crackle from the candles, water dripping the caves walls, and the faint echo of the wind in the trees the only sounds to be heard.

For a moment he pressed his face into his hands, the weight of blaming himself for all the suffering that had come to pass heavy on his soul. As his eyes were shut an image of Lofn flashed across his mind, the smile on her face, the way her body swayed as she danced with the children, her eyes bright with wonder. The sound of her laugh filled his ears, and the feeling of her warmth as they sat together on the edge of the water. She was a light in the darkness that had been cast over their people…

And then he saw her laying before him, bloody and beaten, and the tears welled in his eyes. It wasn't her fault, he is the one who told her about their struggles. She had nothing to do with this, and yet... She refused to leave, choosing instead to stay and fight for those she didn't even know.

Hours passed, and Zevlor could feel how his eyelids grew heavy, how his mind had grown so weary, so lost in a labyrinth of thoughts, that the world around him had blurred into a hazy dream. He blinked, suddenly aware of a gentle touch on his cheek. Lofn's face materialized before him, her soothing voice whispering, “Don't blame yourself.” his own subconscious reaching out to console him. He wasn't sure if this tender moment was real or merely a product of his fatigued mind, but the warmth of her hand on his skin felt achingly real.

But as his head began to nod, and the illusion faded…

A sudden sound caught his attention- a deep breath from Lofn. His hand moved of its own accord, reaching out to gently press against her brow, checking for any sign of fever. As his calloused fingers brushed her skin, Lofn stirred, her lips parting as a single word escaped in a barely audible murmur.

“Zevlor...”

The sound of his name, uttered with such tenderness and vulnerability, sent a shiver coursing through Zevlor's body. His tail twitched, the spaded tip rising and quivering as a flush of warmth suffused his cheeks, darkening their hue. The melodic quality of her voice, even in slumber, was alluring, drawing him in closer to her. His hand poised to brush a stray lock of hair from her face, but just as his fingers were about to make contact, he froze, realization dawning upon him like a bucket of icy water.

What was he doing?

This was highly inappropriate, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. Lofn was so young, her life stretching out before her like an endless road, while his own had already traversed so many winding paths. He had responsibilities forhis people, while she had no ties, no allegiance, her destiny hers to choose. She had a future ahead of her, the whole world, and he-

Zevlor closed his eyes, taking a deep, calming breath as he tried to quell the emotions that raged within him.

He was old enough to be her father, the voice whispered.

The realization hit him like a blow to the chest, stealing his breath and causing his heart to stumble in its rhythm. He had caught feelings for her- feelings that ran deeper than mere gratitude or camaraderie. Somewhere along the way, his admiration for her bravery, strength, and beauty had grown into something more. It was a dangerous path, one he hadn't intended to tread, but now that he was here, he couldn't deny the truth of it. These emotions, unbidden and unexpected, had taken root within him, blossoming in the fertile soil of her unwavering courage and selflessness.

Zevlor's hand fell away from Lofn's face, his fingers curling into a tight fist. How could he have allowed this to happen? He was supposed to be a leader, his priorities getting everyone to Baldur’s Gate, not a lovestruck fool pining after one so much younger than him.

Yet, as he gazed upon her peaceful features, bathed in the soft glow of the candles, he knew that denial was futile. His heart had betrayed him, surrendering to emotions he had long thought himself incapable of feeling.

With a heavy sigh, Zevlor settled back into the chair, he knew he had to be careful, to keep these feelings in check. Lofn deserved better than to be burdened with the affections of an older tiefling. She deserves someone who could provide for her, who would not put her in danger and endanger her life- a non foulblood. He laughed, the bitterness evident, he was a fool for even thinking she could care for him the same…

With a deep breath, Zevlor would be there for her, as a friend, a protector, whatever she needed. And perhaps, in time, he would find a way to reconcile his feelings, to find peace in simply being part of her world. For now, that was enough.

As the first rays of dawn crept over the horizon, their warm light filtered through the cracks of the cave, gently rousing Lofn from her slumber. Her long lashes fluttered open, blinking away the lingering haze of sleep as her vision slowly came into focus. Disoriented, she leaned up on the bedroll, her brow furrowing as she took in her unfamiliar surroundings.

This wasn't her tent.

Lofn's gaze darted around the dimly lit space, recognition dawning as she realized she was in the cave where Zevlor had been staying. Her heart skipped a beat as she glanced down, noticing the bedroll beneath her- Zevlor’s bedroll. A flush of heat crept up her neck, blooming across her cheeks as her pulse quickened, hammering in her ears.

Her eyes were drawn to the stark white bandages wrapped around her torso, and the pieces fell into place. Zevlor must have tended to her wounds, removing her leather armor to... A wave of embarrassment washed over her, her face darkening to a crimson hue as she buried her face in the thin blanket, trying to hide from the realization.

How foolish she must have looked, collapsing into his arms… She was stronger than that, she was a Thay! The ancient red dragons bloodline coursed through her veins! The humiliation stung more than her injuries, the wound to her pride far greater than the cut across her ribs…

Yet, as the fabric enveloped her, a familiar scent enveloped her senses- a warm, earthy aroma mixed with a hint of sweat that was distinctly Zevlor. Unbidden, her mind conjured images of him carefully dressing her wounds, his calloused hands gentle yet firm as they worked. Heat pooled in her chest, spreading through her body like a slow burn, and she found herself clinging to the blanket, breathing in his lingering essence.

Lofn couldn't help but remember the warmth of his arms as he held her… Her eyes softened, and she slowly lowered the blanket, her gaze catching on Zevlor's sleeping form. He was slumped in a chair beside her, his head lolled forward, a few stray strands of hair escaping his ponytail to frame his ruggedly handsome face. Even in repose, his grip remained firm on the hilt of his sword, a silent testament to the vigil he had kept over her.

Slowly, carefully, she shifted, creeping up next to him on the bedroll. Her knees pressed into the soft fabric as she steadied herself on all fours, leaning over to get a closer look at him. Every crease and ridge that adorned his handsome face seemed to tell a story, each one a testament to the life he had lived.

He was right there, just a few inches away, and the closeness made her heart flutter. Her fingers itched to reach out, to trace the contours of his face- to commit every crease, every ridge, to memory.

And so she did.

Settling back on her knees, her breath caught in her throat as she extended a tentative hand. Her fingers brushing gently against his hair as she tucked the stray strands behind his ear, the touch as soft as a whisper.

Lofn's fingers lingered, tracing the curve of his cheekbone, her thumb grazing the corner of his lips as she marveled at the depth of her feelings for this man who had become so much more than just some tiefling. She realized with a startling clarity, he had become the very beating of her heart.

A subtle tremor ran through Zevlor’s body, rousing him from the depths of slumber. His eyes fluttered open, blinking slowly as Lofn's radiant visage came into focus, “Lofn?” his voice thick with sleep. Her hand paused mid motion, caught in the act of tucking his hair back, the rebellious strands once again falling across his face.

His eyes widened slightly, his pulse quickening, and his cheeks darkening. He hadn't expected her to wake so soon, much less to find her so close. His mouth opened, then closed again, his tongue tied, as if he wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come.

Every ridge and contour was a temptation for her fingertips as they danced along his face, the touch feather light. And his lips... so full and inviting, so perfectly kissable. They seemed to beckon her closer, whispering of untold pleasures that awaited.

“Good morning~" she whispered, her voice soft and breathy, a melody for his ears alone before she leaned closer, her eyes drifting shut as she pressed her lips to his. The kiss was chaste, a fleeting touch that seemed to last an eternity, and the sweetness of it nearly brought her to tears. It was as though she had found her home, despite being a princess- heir to the Thay throne, he felt more like home than anything had ever been.

[mandos-mind-trick]

Lollipop

Summary: You're doing it on purpose. He wholeheartedly believes it.

Pairing: Crosshair x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Crosshair's oral fixation, sexual tension, oral sex, lots of teasing, cum swallowing, finger sucking, Crosshair is kind of rough but what do you expect, language, slightly possessive Crosshair, eating candy but make it sexual.

A/N: *Sweats nervously* Uh yeah. I don't have much to say about this one. Please enjoy my fellow Crosshair simps.

MASTERLIST

You’re doing it on purpose. 

He wholeheartedly believes it. 

You’re sitting there in nothing but a shirt and your panties, relaxed back in the pilot’s seat. One bare leg is propped up on the console, the other spinning the chair back and forth. Back and forth. Your panties offer just enough coverage, but one wrong move and he would be able to see everything. 

You’re certainly not shy. 

His eyes trail up your body, focusing where your fingers are wrapped around the stick of the candy you liked. It was some specialty from your home planet, and you kept a whole crate of it on board. You’ve finished this one off, instead absentmindedly chewing on the stick as you read something on your datapad. 

You’re a pain in his ass, but you’re a talented pain in his ass. 

He had quickly gotten bored on Pabu. There were only so many fish he could catch before he started to go crazy. So he had made the decision to leave, to join Echo and Rex and fight against the Empire that had controlled him for so long. It wasn’t long before he was partnered with you, a highly skilled bounty hunter turned rebel. Rex knew you and trusted you, and you have yet to prove yourself unworthy of that. 

Even if you do drive him insane. 

He watches the way your tongue darts out, shifting the stick from one side of your mouth to the other. He can see the way your tongue moves, flicking the stick back and forth. His eyes narrow, hands closing into fists where they rest on his thighs.

“Why don’t you take a picture or something?” You say, putting down your datapad. 

He narrows his eyes even more, glaring at you as you stand. “Why don’t you put on your pants?” 

“It’s my ship.” You say, flicking the candy stick at him. It bounces off his chestplate with a quiet tink. You lean over his shoulder, resting your hand on the computer console. “Have you found our location yet?” 

“Yes.” He answers simply, glancing at you from the side as he leans slightly away. It’s not that he’s repulsed by you. No, in fact you smell good. You bathed religiously, imbuing yourself with some expensive soap from Naboo that made you smell like some sort of dessert. 

Good enough to eat. 

“He’s not exactly hiding.” You say, your tongue popping out to press against your upper lip as you read the screen. It’s what you do when you focus. 

He hates it. 

“You ever been to Nixor?” You ask, turning to face him. 

“No.” He says simply. 

“Well, you’re not missing much.” You say, pushing yourself off the console and back to the pilot’s seat. “We’ll be there in an hour or so.” 

***

You’re good at your job. No, you’re great at it. You’re more than happy to let him handle things from afar, waltzing right in without fear. Many quarries have been surprised to find not only are you not helpless, you’re also not alone. You’re good in a tight spot, making him feel like he’s only there to watch sometimes. 

Sometimes he thinks you mess up on purpose just to give him something to do besides stare at you. 

Which he does. 

A lot. 

“Come on, toothpick.” You say as you lower the ramp to the ship. “I need a bath.” 

He jumps as you pat his ass on the way up the ramp. His eyes narrow, waiting a moment before he follows you in. You weren’t overly touchy, but sometimes you liked to push boundaries.

Sometimes he wants to grab a handful of your perky little ass. 

“About three hours to Coruscant.” You say as the ship jumps into hyperspace. “You wanna fuck or something?” 

He nearly inhales his toothpick as his head snaps towards you. You stand from the pilot’s seat, sauntering over to him. It’s the same walk you use on some quarries. You bend down in front of him, plucking the toothpick from between his teeth, slipping it into your own mouth. 

“Why would I want to do that?” He manages to grit out, eyes narrowed at you as you hover over him. 

“Well, you have to constantly be staring at me for some reason.” You shift forward, planting yourself in his lap. You wrap an arm around his shoulders, fingers grazing the back of his neck. “If it’s not cause you like the way I look, then why is it?” 

He’s not sure how to answer. You are attractive, for a nat-born. He’s not stupid, he knows it, and he knows you use it to your advantage. He rarely lets anyone that close, unless out of boredom or necessity. He wonders how many others have found themselves in this position, how many others have fallen victim to your confidence. 

Thankfully you don’t give him time to answer, plucking the toothpick from your mouth. Your tongue traces your lips, his eyes following its every path. “I don’t know how you chew these things. Pokes the shit out of me.” You slip the toothpick back into his mouth, pulling a candy out of your pocket instead.

You carefully unwrap it, tossing the wrapper on the floor before slipping it into your mouth. He watches you, the way the stick moves outside your lips. He can picture the way your tongue swirls around the candy, coating your mouth in sticky sweetness. You stare back at him, unwavering under his gaze. Your nails rake against the back of his neck, a shudder running down his spine.

He reaches a hand up, fingers wrapping around the stick of the candy. He pulls it from your lips, watching the way your lips pucker around it. He holds it up between you, your eyes meeting his. You stare at him for a moment, searching his gaze. You seem to find whatever it is you're looking for as you lean forward, staring up into his eyes as you stick your tongue out. You run the length of it along the candy, flicking the tip across it before pulling back with a smirk. 

His gaze darkens, and he pushes the candy back between your lips. You take it eagerly, lips turning up in a grin. You lean closer, hand dropping to rest on his thigh, right in the gap between his thigh plate and codpiece, thumb just centimeters from the bulge. His blacks are starting to feel tight, his cock pressing against his codpiece almost painfully. 

You push the candy to the side so you can speak, smiling playfully up at him. “So? We’ve got three hours.” 

He curses himself silently, lifting a hand to tangle in your hair. Your lips part in a gasp, the candy nearly dropping from your mouth. He tugs it from between your teeth, flicking his toothpick onto the floor before he slips it into his own mouth. It’s sickeningly sweet, some flavor he doesn’t recognize. 

He slips his finger between your lips, pressing against your teeth. “Bite.” 

You sink your teeth into the tip of his glove, and he pulls his hand free. He takes the glove, tossing it to the floor. You’ve never seen any of his skin besides his face. He always wore his armor, always covered, going into the bathroom and leaving it. He slept in it too, on the rare occasion you had to make longer trips. 

His fingers are rough and calloused as they slide across your skin, his thumb tracing your lips before tugging at the bottom one. You part your lips, his thumb pressing into your mouth. You immediately close your lips around it, tongue darting out to lick the tip. He tastes like blaster residue from holding his rifle. 

He presses his thumb further into your mouth, your tongue flattening against it. You hold his gaze as you suck his thumb, swirling your tongue around it. He releases your hair, taking the candy from his lips, letting it drop to the floor. His own tongue darts out to lick his lips, your eyes following it. You hum around his thumb, shifting in his lap. 

He pulls his thumb free, gripping the back of your neck to pull you closer to his face. You’ve never been this close to him, close enough you can see the texture of his skin, all the little blemishes. Your lips part, breath heavy as he leans even closer, licking at your lips. Your hands grip his shoulders, eyes fluttering closed as he traces your lips with his tongue, tasting the remnants of the candy. 

Your lips part more, your own tongue darting out to lick the tip of his. His grip tightens on you, tugging you as close as he can as he smashes his lips onto yours. You whimper against his lips, his tongue invading your mouth. You taste sweet like candy, melting into him as he explores your mouth. The sound is loud in the quiet ship as he practically devours you, licking and nipping at your mouth and lips. 

You try and press yourself closer to him, grinding against his codpiece. He licks at your lips as he pulls you back slightly, holding the back of your neck. He brings his fingers back to your lips, pressing two of them into your mouth. You take them eagerly, relaxing as he pushes them all the way in to the knuckle. 

You whine around his fingers, tongue pressing against the digits as he lets them rest there. Your eyes flutter closed, one hand raising to grip his wrist. He releases the back of your neck, your head beginning to bob as you suck the length of his fingers. His free hand drops to tug off his codpiece, letting it drop to the floor with a clang. He passes a hand over the bulge in his blacks, eyes focused on you. Your own eyes crack open, staring at him as you suck his fingers. 

You tilt your head back, pulling yourself off his fingers. You tease the tips with your tongue for a second before meeting his gaze. “I wanna suck your cock.” You pout, using the stare you often did on quarries, the male ones, the easy ones. 

He falls just as easily, pushing you as you lower yourself to your knees between his legs. He wonders how many others have been in this position. None of the quarries have ever gotten this close. At least, not the ones you’ve caught since he joined you. He doesn’t let his mind wander, jealousy beginning to bubble within him. He wants your mouth. He wants your mouth to be his. He wants your body to be his. He wants you to be his. 

You’re a pain in his ass, but he wants you to be the pain in his ass. 

You rub his bulge through his blacks, tongue darting out to press against your top lip. He groans, gripping the sides of the chair as he watches you. That sinful mouth that’s spewed teasing banter his way since you met him. You never backed down, meeting him toe to toe in ways no one had been brave enough to, besides his brothers. 

What would they think of him now? 

You open his blacks, hand wrapping around his length. He’s hard and leaking already, just the sight of your mouth enough to elicit such a response. He’s not going to last long. Not with that little pink tongue sticking out, so close to touching him. Not with those lips, swollen from his kisses. 

He refrains from touching you, wanting to see what you’ll do alone as you lean in to him. Your tongue flicks along his head, pulling a shaky breath from his lips. He watches enraptured as your tongue traces a circle around him before trailing down his length. Your hand holds the base of him, squeezing gently as you lick him like your candy, your eyes lifting to his face to watch him. 

His eyes are dark and lust blown, the normal glare gone as he stares down at you. He looks fucked out already and you’ve barely touched him. You smirk, opening your mouth to take his head between your lips. You flatten your tongue against him, sinking onto his length. He’s so thick, his precum salty on your tongue. You breathe through your nose as you take as much of him as you can, whimpering quietly as he presses close to the back of your throat. 

He groans out a curse, tangling a hand in your hair. You release him, taking a deep breath before taking him back in your mouth. Your other hand rests on his thigh plate as you sink back onto him, taking him as far as you can before pulling back. You set a rhythm, keeping your head lifted as much as you can to stare at him as you suck his cock. He’s close, you can tell by his breathy groans, the twitching of his cock between your lips. 

You moan as he tugs at your hair, the sound vibrating around him. He holds your head still, fucking into your mouth as he cums with a loud moan, spilling into your mouth. 

You pull free from his cock once he finishes, staring at him as you swallow his load. His lips part, chest heaving as he stares at you. He swipes his cock against your lips, your tongue sticking out to clean him up. He leans back in the seat, watching your mouth. He’s far from done, and he knows you are too. 

Maybe this partnership isn’t so bad after all.

Taglist:

@kaminocasey, @rosechi, @mxkyrie, @bobaprint, @star-trekker-0013, @padawancat97, @bamfahsoka, @rain-on-kamino

[supercorpkid]

Powergirl Should Die - 2

Supergirl, Powergirl, B!D. Kara Danvers x BabyDanvers!Reader, Alex Danvers x BabyDanvers!Reader, Lena Luthor, J'onn J'onzz.

Word Count: 2840.

Part 1

Kara is the sunshine. It irradiates through her skin and you don't think there's a single soul that would be able to deny that. Your sister is always bringing good light wherever she might go. But you-

You were born to rain clouds. Always almost but never enough. Power, yes. But never Super. Even back in Krypton, you were always blessed in her shadow.

And that was fine, for most of your life. You didn’t care to hide away behind her at school. Didn’t care that when she moved to National City, you had to follow her too. But then she got you inside a skin tight suit, gave you a superhero name, and that was a little too much for you to bear.

Because now you are sleep deprived, too tired to function properly. Haven't rested a bit in days. Patrolling the city, watching everyone's step, listening to every heartbeat and shaky breath. Waiting for the worst.

It's not even that you can't rest because you don't have the time, that is only partially true. You have to go to the Museum and work. You haven't let anyone patrol the city ever since you saw that flash of red in Lena's surveillance camera. Even so, you would still have a couple of hours to nap, if only you could. If only you wouldn't wake up drenched in sweat from your nightmares.

All of them are about what's happening right now. You watch from afar seeing her blonde hair and red cape flying behind her while she writes the words that are now rooted in the depths of your mind. 

Powergirl should die. Why won't she die already?

"That's enough!" J'onn stops the arguing. His deep commanding voice is enough to make everyone shut up, including both of your sisters that had been yelling at you until a minute ago. "You are in a government space and some of you are public figures. I expect at least a little bit of decorum, and if that's not possible then the three of you should go talk somewhere private. Preferably at home."

"Fine by me." Kara says, hardening her jaw. "We're all going home." She speaks almost out of greeted teeth, only one eye blinks, so laser focus on you, it sends shivers down your spine. 

She picks Alex up, ready to fly away, but looks back at you before she does so, almost daring. You don't want to go home with them. All the previous yelling already made clear what their point was. You are getting obsessed with this 'Powergirl should die' thing. You're getting fixated, absorbed, borderline manomaniacal about it. Throwing blame around, wary of the people who are there to help you, snapping at your own flesh and blood. 

Yeah, yeah. No shit.

"Y/N, would you stay behind for a second?" J'onn says, and Kara furrows her brows at him. "She'll catch you in a moment, Kara. You and Alex can go."

"Alright." Kara leaves, but it is clear it wasn't ok by the way she said that. 

He starts walking and you follow him silently throughout the corridors of the DEO, and only stops in front of a lead covered room. "For privacy." He explains, pointing inside and you agree with your head walking in. "Would you like to tell me what the problem is?"

"Besides someone wanting me dead?" You snap. You can't really control how you sound right now, even though you wish you could. You're tired, scared, and suspicious of the very one person you should rely on the most. That makes everyone around you untrustworthy by default.

J'onn agrees with his head. And you bite the inside of your mouth to keep you from spilling the truth.

"Seems enough of a reason to me."

"You think Kara wrote it." He explains it further, saying what you've been thinking. At least someone had the courage to say it out loud. You sigh, looking down. 

It's wrong. Thinking your sister is the one writing all these terrible things about you. But what else would you think? It’s the only lead you have. The only one you need.

"It's a pretty big accusation."

You can't look him in the eyes. Even though you haven't directly said it, he could read all the messed up thoughts you were having about it. "You didn't say I was wrong."

"I didn't say you were right." J'onn counters, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "You're going to end up doing something you regret if you don't rest. I'm not going to argue you on this, Y/N. This is not a suggestion, it's an order from a superior. I am not giving you a shift tonight, and I hope that means you won't be on duty."

"What if the writing comes up again?"

"Then we clean it." 

"What if something more than the writing comes up this time?" You can't help the watery eyes when you say that.

He gives you a long pause, "Then we fight it."

Alright, well. You can't argue with that logic. And you also can’t argue with the fact that you are so tired, you might end up doing something stupid. 

So you agree that you won’t patrol tonight, trusting him on this, and leave the DEO. You are well aware that your sisters are waiting for you in Kara’s apartment, ready to tell you what to do. So before you face them, you send Lena a text.

You: Hey! You, me, Love Actually and Thai food tonight?

Lena: Yes, please. All of it sounds perfect ❤️

You smile at her text. Your heart doing a small loop inside you. Alright, now onto the hard part.

You fly in through the window and the second Kara notices your presence, she picks up the conversation from where it was left. 

“How long has it been since you've slept?” She asks, crossing her arms and Alex mimics her action right after. They look like two angry parents, and it makes you even more annoyed. They are not your parents. Your parents exploded 20 years before you even stepped foot on this planet, so. 

“I don’t know.” You mutter, knowing they wouldn't like the honest answer and having no energy to fight them.

“If you would just let me take over for you, mini me. I could patrol the city tonight. I promise I'll call you the second I see something suspicious and –”

“Yeah, ok.”

“What?” Kara and Alex stare at each other.

“I have direct orders from my superior to stay put. And I also have a date – I mean, a movie date – a movie thing with Lena tonight, so yeah. If you want to patrol the city, you do it.”

“Oh.” They stare at each other again, confused about your approach to this. You’ve been very demanding the past few days about how this is only about you and that no one else should get involved, and just one conversation later, you're quick to give up that control? Sounds weird. But they're not going to fight you on this, since it's exactly what they want. "Great! I'll do the patrolling and you do the date."

"And sleep." Alex adds. "Don't forget you need to sleep."

"Sure thing, mom." You force a smile then fly out of Kara's living room, and go back to work.

It’s a lot later that night when you give Lena the empty container of your already eaten Thai food, and snuggle up on her couch, throwing the blanket over your legs and trying to get as comfortable as possible. “Mmm, just FYI I might fall asleep during the movie.” You warn her. “I haven’t had a good night in a while.”

Lena hums her agreement from the kitchen, but soon she is back to her place next to you. “Something’s been worrying you?”

“I guess. But I don’t wanna bore you with that, it’s not something fun to talk about.” You smile when she gets under the blanket too, body so close her warmth irradiates through her skin. 

“You couldn't bore me if you tried, honey.”

“Au contraire, darling. I think everyone at the Museum would say I’m the most boring person alive.” You give her a side smile.

Lena shoots her head up, comically fast. She blinks at you, head clearly going one thousand miles an hour. She is thinking so hard, it's almost loud. You furrow your brows in confusion, while her mouth drops with a 'oh' sound. 

"You're ok?" You pat her leg.

There's no verbal answer. Lena's shaky hands make their way to the collar of your shirt and you sit up straighter trying to understand what's happening right now, and trying to predict what's going to happen next. 

“Lena?” You question her movements when she undoes the first button of your shirt. You swallow. It's not like you never once imagined this happening, but not like this. Not without love confessions and a whole lot of prior conversation.

“Lena, what are you doing?”

Lena doesn’t answer, doesn’t blink. Hands still shaking, but decisively making their way to the second button.

“Lena, please.” She undoes that one as well. And that's when it hits you. You are always wearing your supersuit attire under your clothes, so it's faster when you have to run out from work and such. Panic shoots through your body as you realize that if she unbuttons one more, she’ll be able to see your supersuit. You hold her hands to stop her. “Lena,” you try to smile even if your mouth is completely dry and your breath is stuck in your lungs. “Darling, shouldn’t you kiss me first, before trying to get me naked?”

Lena finally looks back at your eyes, a smile dangling on her lips to match yours. And then she gives you a smirk. “You’re not naked, though. Are you?” 

“Under my clothes? Yeah, I’m naked.” You lie with a fake chuckle. 

She untangles her hand from yours, places it behind your neck and brings your face closer. You hold your breath. Widen your eyes. This is happening. It's happening! You and Lena, it's finally happening!

“What’s going on with you tonight?” You stare down at her mouth. “I’m not complaining, I’m just confused.”

And that’s enough of a distraction for her to move her other hand and unbutton one more. Lena looks down at the white of your supersuit and the little bit of gold from the House of El crest. And you? You panic.

"I, um, I can explain." While your heart beats strongly into your ribcage and there's a loud buzz inside your ears. How do you explain yourself?

Lena seems to be inside her own little world while both hands now make all the way down undoing all of your buttons, opening your shirt to have the House of El crest staring at her in all its secrecy.  

"I'm sorry." You whisper, one tear rolling down your cheek. Because there's no explanation, really. Nothing you can say for yourself to stop Lena from hating you now.

She finally looks up to you, eyes tearing up as well, mouth agape to her recent discovery. You can see it all playing out in her eyes. She has the most expressive ones. Betrayal and anger, sadness and confusion. And then, a few seconds after two tears drop from her eyes, she raises her eyebrows at you. Eyes widening when something hits her.

"Powergirl should die." Lena whispers, swallowing deep. "Oh my God, Y/N. Someone is trying to kill you." 

She launches herself onto you, holding you tight. Her hand entangles on your hair, holding your neck strongly. 

"Oh, darling." She whispers, her body even closer now. You feel a kiss being planted on the side of your head, while you seek comfort on her arms, face buried on her neck. "No wonder you've been so careless."

"What?" 

"Au contraire, darling? Please, Y/N, I've never heard anyone say that except for you. And Powergirl, apparently." 

"Lena." You whine, embarrassed. Can't believe you made it that easy. You guess J'onn was right, you were about to do something stupid from the lack of sleep. "Someone wants me dead." You try to justify, earning a smile from her.

"You really are tired, huh?" She brings you closer again, kisses your temple. "You thought I was trying to get you naked, honey."

"Lenaaaa." You whine harder, face burning red from embarrassment. God, you're such a loser. "Can you please ignore everything I said tonight? I haven't slept an inch in four days."

Lena smiles fondly at you, while she strokes your cheek delicately. She plants a kiss there, then a light one on your lips. It's so soft, it holds no sexual implication. Just pure comfort. "Come on, Powergirl. You need a power nap."

"Oh God." You complain again, but soon Lena hugs you tight, and with your head on her chest, and Love Actually playing in the back, you're fast asleep. You don't even care if the writing shows up all over town tonight. There's no other place you'd rather be.

You wake up from your place on Lena's chest. Sometime last night she laid back on the couch and you curled yourself around her, not ready to let go. It was the first night you haven't had any nightmares.

You hear a few knocks on the balcony door, and you and Lena raise your heads at the same time to the intruder on the other side. Kara. She is smiling and waving, then she widens her eyes and turns around quickly. X-ray vision. You look down to Lena's body under yours, and your leg slotted between hers. 

"Oh my God. I'm sorry." You get up in a flash, shirt still hung open with a clear view of your supersuit. "Shit, fuck."

Lena gets up as well, trying to look less disheveled to your sister's eyes. And after you button up your shirt, you finally open the balcony door and clean your throat, so Kara can look back at you.

"Hi!" She tries with the biggest, most awkward smile ever. "Just, um, wanted to say that there's nothing new for me to, um, report?" 

You look back at Lena who knows exactly what Kara is talking about, but is looking down pretending she doesn't.

"I didn't mean to interrupt –"

"You didn't." You both are quick to say.

"Oh-kay?" Kara raises her eyebrows, a smile reaching her eyes, and you know exactly what she is insinuating. And sure, you thought the same thing last night, but you're both wrong.

"Can I get a ride?" You ask and Supergirl eagerly agrees. You turn back at Lena. "Thanks for –" You bite your tongue. You don't want to say anything in front of your sister. "Lunch later?"

"Lunch." Lena agrees with her head. And you smile before letting Kara pick you up and fly out of her balcony with you.

When you're out of sight, you untangle yourself and start flying next to her. "So no writing last night, huh?"

"Nope. Not even a kitten to rescue to keep me entertained." Kara grins devilishly at you. "You, on the other hand, was well entertained last night."

"Yeah, well. I slept for the first time in four days and had no nightmares. I'd say I was very entertained."

"Nightmares?" Kara stops flying, and you have to fly back a little, so you can talk face-to-face. "You haven't had nightmares in years."

"That's not true. I've been having them for… I guess, months now?" 

"Months?" Kara's eyebrows furrow so hard, her crinkle shows. "When did they start?"

"They're just nightmares, Kara." You argue, annoyed. But she looks at you with an expression you almost couldn’t read. It's a midst of worrisome and distrust. 

You furrow your own eyebrows, looking back at her. And then it hits you. The only reason you recognize this look, is because it's how you've been looking at her for the past four days.

"When did they start?" She repeats, strongly this time.

"I don't know." You lie. You know exactly when they started. Right after she gave you a superhero name and your first mission. Ever since, you haven't been able to sleep right.

"Let's make sure you don't have them anymore." Your sister finally breathes out. "Maybe you should try sleeping more times with Lena. It looks like she helps."

Wouldn't she like having you back at no patrolling so she can go back to the new way she found to be passive-aggressive and make you question your every single step?

"I'll pick up some extra shifts and I'm sure J'onn won't mind picking up some as well. That way you can rest your head a little."

You narrow your eyes at her, questioning her intentions. "Why don't you worry about your own enemies, and let me deal with mine?" 

She doesn't answer and you're certainly happy you rendered Kara Zor-El speechless for the first time all your life.

[neuroprincess]

I would love it if you can write some elle greenaway praise kink smut <33

Hi sweet anon, hope you enjoy it <33

My Good Girl - Elle Greenaway/Female Reader

Captain!Elle Greenaway/Detective!Female Reader

Summary: Your boss has an unknown effect on you since the first moment, but when Elle praises you, you could get down on knees for her. But you never imagined that your most impure dreams one day would come true.

Classification: +18, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Swearing, fingering, oral sex, mild overstimulation, dirty talk, praise kink, soft!dom!Elle

Word count: +3200

Unrevised

Tall, defined mouth, flawless hair and big brown eyes, which are glazed across the lobby as she watches the interaction between her co-workers and the new addition, in this case you. The brunette raises an eyebrow and smiles, it's not every day that the precinct admits rookies, having a great team of veterans and mostly composed of men among them many with your age in years of career, it was a total surprise to see such young woman there, with an obvious face of someone who just started. You stared at her and could feel your ears burning, and swear you were red, so you turned the face away not wanting her to notice that you were blushing with just a quick exchange of glances. The conversation keeps going on and, no matter how hard you try, you can't concentrate on what they are talking about, you still feel her gaze on you. One of the younger detectives enters the hall carrying with him a handcuffed man, his build is strong and tall next to the also rookie, admitted only a few weeks before. The criminal knows this and uses this advantage when the second detective leaves his partner alone, elbowing him directly in the nose, knocking the boy to the ground instantly. Everything happens too fast, the man tries to run towards the door, managing to knock down two more people, you are in the way and before he can do anything is already on the floor. You hit him with one punch, sharp and strong enough to stun the guy. The detectives in charge of the arrest gather him up, the rookie still trying to control the nosebleed. They are both mortified and surprised, then thank you, and the place explodes in applause from co-workers. So sure you are blushing like a tomato. 

"Good job, rookie." one of the older men compliments raising his coffee cup as if toasting.   

The other men agree and stare, one winks and opens a big smile that wants to show more than just sympathy or possible pride. You just ignore him, but smile at the rest of them, not knowing exactly how to react. It was a reflex, instinctive, something you learned in self-defense classes and never thought to have to use on the first day of work.  

A minute later everyone is dispersed working on their respective cases, except him. Daniel, as he introduced himself, continued talking to you, gradually getting closer, almost invading your personal space without realizing it, with the possibility that he was just ignoring your visible discomfort.  

"Get out!" the woman on the other side suddenly appears beside you, soon he moves out of her field of vision, seeming to accede to her "He can be very... pushy."  

"And unpleasant."  

"I'm Elle Greenaway."  

"The Captain? My boss?" you get more nervous than you were around her already, her fame haunts and intimidates anyone, one of the few people selected for the legendary BAU when she was just a detective, sure, there are rumors about her leaving and how she went back to work on something more... civilian, but you don't care. She's the fucking Elle Greenaway "I'm sorry... I...Well, I'm Y/N Y/L/N."  

"So, Y/L/N, you did a great job. You know, it's hard to see such young and skilled detectives, seems I got right to ask you with us." Elle blinks, a mischievous smile opens as she realizes you blush again, more than that, a heat hits you hard, tingling sensation and sweat in the palms of the hands "Welcome to the team, darling." she extends a hand and the only thing you can focus on is the word she used.  

"Thank you, Captain." you shake her hand quickly, you could swear it was even too quick "It's nice to meet you!"  

"I say the same! Just call me Elle."  

"Right, Cap- Elle." 

And that's how it all started. Every time the woman compliments or says something positive about you it's like the world is rotating slower, that feeling taking over again, getting worse and worse. Two days later the first case came up, there were many obstacles and a twist when your clinical eye didn't let a detail go unnoticed, this detail changed the course of the case, what matters is the case was completed in almost record time and the right way. Minutes before the shift ended she called you into her office, which terrified you a little since your intervention was on top of her theory, but Elle smiles and praises you again, this time on how perceptive and courageous you were to stand against her word. You thanked her and walked away, not wanting to let her see you blush again, that heat took over again, more intense and aflame, so when you got home and entered the shower, you realized what that means. Her words resounded like a voice over the shoulder, suggestive, sexy, and each praise blurred your mind to the point that you barely realized you were putting a hand between the legs, masturbating thinking about Elle Greenaway. For this reason you barely face her for a week, just can't when sinful thoughts come over you.  

"We're really lucky to have you here." she comments on a wednesday morning, approaching you at the coffee pot in the kitchen, cup in hand as she stares at you like an eagle "Besides being skilled, brave and observant you also have good taste? You look really great in this sweater."  

"Really?" you ask surprised that someone has noticed your newly purchased outfit "Oh, thank you so much! It was on sale."  

"When you wear looks like it cost over a thousand dollars, darling." Elle winks and walks out of the kitchen, oblivious about what she had just said.  

"Shit!"   

Controlling yourself can be kind of hard after your beautiful and powerful boss praises you like that, your hand tingles, a wave goes through the body and you squeeze the thighs together feeling the arousal take over... again, a wet spot forming on panties. You are sure and ashamed of it, but you have to pull yourself together as soon as a co-worker walks into the kitchen, confused to find you practically writhing near the table. 

The next day she praises the way you styled hair, followed by how delicate and thoughtful you are with the victims, your earrings, eyes, technique, your brownies when you bring that to work. On this day she also asks you to teach her how to bake/cook, revealing that she survives on frozen food and the pizza delivery guy that is already her friend from how much they see each other. This is the reason you are standing in the middle of her kitchen with a pot in hand and trying not to look directly at her. Feeling extremely shy, after weeks of being praised you can barely describe all that you feel every time she praises you, but you can describe how amazing it feels to enjoy at the end of the day with the simple memory of these praises.  

"Wine?" Elle offers taking two glasses from the cabinet.  

 "Yes, please."  

"Here, darling." she hands you the glass after pouring.  

The brunette steps behind you, slender fingers rubbing across your body as she walks over to the other side to grab something from the fridge. You shudder audibly, an involuntary moan escaping between the lips and legs instantly weakening. She stops in place, her hand in the same place it stopped, waist, and you feel her warm breath against the neck.  

"New perfume? You smell wonderfully good." she whispers, lips close to exposed skin.  

"Yes..." is all you can answer between a sobbing sigh, legs coming together as a twinge hits you in the belly, pure arousal coursing through body at the mere words. The whole wine is drunk at once "Thank you..."  

"You really liked the wine, I knew you had a good palate." the woman smiles and puts her other hand on your waist, holding you gently, sending shivers down the spine "Or you like me."  

"Captain..."  

"You know you can call me Elle." she whispers rubbing her fingertips across around, you almost pass out feeling her toned body and soft breasts against your back.  

"Elle..." it's strange to call her like that in this situation. Your cheeks become even more flushed, there is no doubt that arousal has gotten the best of you, because all you can concentrate on is how wet your panties are and so you miss the rest of the sentence, a second time "I..." 

"It's okay, babe. I know." she smiles against the exposed skin of your neck and leaves a soft kiss, a smile on her lips as she hears the pot pop out against the countertop, your hands clenching the surface "No need to be nervous, you're with me." her fingers run from your waist to forearms, the tip tickling and making you flinch, an involuntary moan slipping through trembling lips "Turn around!" the brunette commands and so you do "Good girl! Of course you are, you're my good girl." 

"Yes, I am." all that feeling becomes numbness, as if your body is in some kind of ecstasy or one of your recurring dreams, only more realistic, much more "Elle, am I dreaming? Or where are the cameras? Is it a prank?" of course, insecurity had to kick in.  

"Darling, it's not a dream and neither is a prank." she moves even closer, faces inches apart, and raises her arms to caress your cheeks, those two chocolate spheres showing all the sincerity aside from mutual desire "And I can prove it."   

You feel the softness of her lips as it touches yours, soft and slow, almost delicate. Her hands grip the waist pulling you in and your bodies are closer than they have ever been before, there is no distance at all, fingers squeeze the skin and after the initial shock you take both arms to land on the woman's shoulders. It's synchronized, tender and full of passion, you move naturally, her tongue entering your mouth. Both of you moan, melting into each other's arms. Strong hands wander from waist to behind your thighs lifting you onto the countertop, placing herself between legs as she caresses your edges and then squeezes when finishing the kiss.  

 "I'll take care of you, you just need to be obedient and please me. Will you do that, darling?" you nod positively, eagerly, pleasing her is something you love to do in every way "Words, princess."  

"Yes, I will."  

"Perfect, I knew you would be, after all, you are my good girl." 

She smiles and kisses you again, this time it's hungry, desire expressed in every touch and movement, your legs going wobbly in seconds, tongue exploring your mouth with ferocity. Skillful fingers wrap themselves around the fabric of your social blouse, pulling without patience and with enough force to open it, buttons flying everywhere. It was your favorite, but doesn't matter now. All that matters is the woman undressing you on the kitchen counter and the cause of all the spicy dreams that have taken your sleep away for weeks, also ruined several panties. This is another one ruined, completely soaked with your arousal and it makes Elle smile when she sees the pretty damage as she removes your pants, legs spread, center pulsing and completely exposed. A finger runs along the inside of your thigh, gathering the clear liquid and she brings it to her lips, eyes glazed on yours and sucks vigorously. It's too much for you to handle, the arms you use to keep yourself half seated on the countertop wobble, like you're about to pass out, and you almost fall against the cold marble.  

"Let's take that somewhere more... safe."  

You both laugh and she grabs you in her lap, strong hands squeezing your thighs to carry you from the kitchen to the bedroom, your legs wrapped around her waist. You can barely register the path, how the apartment looks, nor how long it takes, her lips are on yours the whole time and the next thing you know you're lying on a soft bed. The tall toned body above yours, your eyes are clouded with lust as you watch her shed her own clothes. Piece by piece, taking time to pull the blouse up over her arms, finally giving you a view of beautiful boobs covered by a black bra, is torture worth every second. It's impossible not to touch the defined lines of her belly, your finger running across the tanned skin, down to the ribs and then to the still covered boobs, being stopped in the path by her hand, entwining your fingers together. Elle kisses you again, both of you falling back against the mattress, her knee on your soaked center, rubbing slowly, it's another tease that makes you melt from the inside out.  

"Please... Elle, I want you." the words come out in a soft moan, you can't think of anything but this woman "Like hell."  

"I know." she whispers and rips off the only fabric that keeps you from touching her the way you want, the shredded panties are thrown into some corner of the room, soon the bra joins the mess "So beautiful, so smelly, so sweet, so mine." 

What you've imagined and dreamed about finally happens, the long and thin fingers slide through your folds, building up arousal at the tips, when it passes your clit your head falls back in pure excitement, the knot of sexual tension undoing itself in a millisecond. Uselessly you try to hold back the moan when she finally enters you, two fingers sinking into your intimacy easily, it's slow and gentle. As if you are made of glass, the most precious thing her hands have ever touched. Your lips part and she smiles, analyzing every feature, any expressions or reactions she pulls out of you as she begins to move. The pace is slow but precise, her palm caresses the bundle of nerves with each thrust, soft lips leave gentle kisses down your neck, occasionally sucking on exposed skin, enough to leave hickeys. Marks of love that will be present for days or maybe weeks. Elle makes a trail reaching for your boobs, grabbing one between her lips and tongue circles the nipple, you could cum with just that if she didn't abandon moments before you reach the apex and turn to face you.  

"I've been waiting for this since I saw you for the first time." the brunette whispers in your ear and kisses the cheek affectionately, only to give a hard thrust that makes you jump on the bed, an interesting contrast "You're just amazing, warm, responsive, beautiful, smelling, fucking sweet." you try to restrain yourself with each praise, body burning inside and out "And hot, accepting me so fucking well."  

Her fingers curl up reaching that sensitive spot that makes you shiver all over, a long sigh precedes several moans she causes while she does it a few more times, alternating between thrusts that get faster and faster, stronger and deeper. What started out in a slow and gentle pace becomes more constant and frantic, sloppy movements that make you clench the sheets until your fingertips turn white, an attempt to handle all the pleasure she gives you. Elle's lips caress and kiss the length of your neck, breasts and belly to reach hips, where her free hand already squeezes possessively, bruises sure to be present the next day. Soon the skillful tongue joins in, it's your doom, there's no turning back after that and almost immediately an orgasm runs through your body overwhelmingly. Your scream is cut off by a twinge of pleasure with a hint of pain, the sensitive clitoris feels like it's on fire, your walls tighten around her, as the woman continues to fuck you during the orgasm, trying to get a second one out of you in a row. 

"Come on, babe. I know you can do it, give me one more, be my perfect girl and hold on." she whispers in encouragement, piercing brown eyes staring at you sweetly before returning to between your legs  

"Fuck." you let out in a sob as you feel her tongue caress your bundle of nerves again, this time it's slow and teasing of course, Elle wants you to feel every touch, caress and glimpse of pleasure she is giving you, wants to make you cum like no one has ever done before "OHHHH ELLE!" and so you cum again, the intensity of two sensations running through every part of your being, leaving a completely clouded mind falling completely into the moment, enjoying every second.  

"See, I knew you would make it, you did, darling. God, I have perfection in my arms." the brunette speaks in a low and sly voice, crawling on top of your body, kissing you softly "Are you okay? Do you feel any pain? Want some water before we continue?"  

"Continue? Goodness, I really believe I'm dreaming." is all you can think of as you stare at her, every detail of her face carved into a gentle and loving expression, totally directed at you, just "Captain, am I having another spicy dream? But very, very, realistic?" and in an attempt to prove whether or not it's real you pinch your own arm, jumping on the bed in pain, drawing a genuine laugh from the other woman.  

"It's not a dream, I confess I'm not surprised to hear about your dreams. That explains why you blush every time we get close to each other, wait, do you do anything about it?" the question is practically rhetorical, anyway, your blushing face answers everything, trying to look away "Awn, you don't have to look like that, darling. I did the same thing. In my defense, how could I not with someone like you around me every day?" she winks and caresses your face, kissing you again.  

 You barely have time to register the information or fully get over the last orgasm, gentle hands are on you again, stroking your hips softly, moving down to thighs, instinctively your legs wrap around her hips and taking advantage of the movement you use body strength to reverse positions. Now she's under you. Both of you smiling mischievously. For a moment you think you can top her, only to find you are totally wrong, strong arms circling your waist pulling you closer to her, sweaty bodies pressed against each other, skin to skin. 

"Cute, thinking you'll get over me so easily, you have to earn it..." she murmurs bringing your lips together again, tongues moving slowly and it's delicate, she slides her hand between your legs, massaging gently as she slips her lips down your collarbone, then looks up at you with eyes shining in desire and affection "But today I'm in control and it's all about you."  

"Elle..." her name comes out in a sobbing moan as you feel her fingers increase the pace on your clit, irregular movements pressing masterfully, you hold onto her and nails run down the length of her muscled back, she moans between pain and pleasure, but not caring about the scratches that will form.  

"Oh my good girl, just so perfect." she growls arching her hips and your lips meet in a fierce kiss, your hand reaches for brown hair, pulling her even closer deepening the touch, tongues entwined and ravenous moans "And only mine." 

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[yandere-paramour]

Hey Asteria, would you have any idea what position to be in if you want to turn a pretty boy into a sobbing mess in the bedroom? And by sobbing mess I mean the good kind where they enjoy it.

Asteria, thinking intently: Jamie has a lot of anxiety and fears that he battles daily, even now. He is so delicate and fragile that I try to focus the most on his pleasure and taking care of him rather than anything else. He deserves it, but if I have to think specifically about our intimacy...

Jamie, sweating: A-Asteria, you-you can't...

Asteria, kissing his forehead: Relax, dear, let me tell them. Anyway, my darling husband responds the best to prostate stimulation, so I tend to use positions that assist with that more. Whether on his stomach or his back, a small throw pillow tucked under his hips helps keep him relaxed and at a comfortable and painless angle. As for his legs, them both spread wide or resting on my shoulders work, anything that makes him feel more comfortable for me to move and truly give him what he needs. However, if I don't plan to move and he is just warming me, I like us both on our sides with him tucked against my chest so he can rest and simply enjoy the sensation of being filled. I find he is more anxious when he is empty, but he disagrees (she kisses his forehead again) If he is penetrating me, which is not particularly often, I usually take control and ride him. That's how Atalanta was conceived, you know.

Jamie, mortified tears beginning to brim in his eyes: Asteria, please...

Atalanta, teacup frozen halfway to her mouth: ... what?

[steddieas-shegoes]

I have a request: Steve has emetophobia, but also suffers from chronic migraines that are almost always accompanied by nausea and vomiting. Eddie helps support and soothe Steve through a really bad migraine attack.

(As someone who has both emetophobia and chronic migraines, it is a hell combination.)

PLEASE DO NOT READ IF READING EVEN A LITTLE BIT ABOUT VOMITING OR NAUSEA BOTHERS YOU! I am also a migraine sufferer, and as much as I hate throwing up, I wouldn't put myself in the emetophobia category. I don't go into extreme detail, but it would definitely be enough for someone who is sensitive to even the discussion of it to be bothered by it. There's a lot of comfort in this fic, so hopefully that makes up for it all. Eddie is such a good caretaker for Steve. I hope you love! - Mickala ❤️

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Sometimes, Steve gets warning signs before a migraine: light and sound sensitivity, a dull ache in his neck and jaw, blurry vision.

But sometimes, they come out of nowhere. He’ll be perfectly fine, and then he’ll be doubled over in so much pain he can barely breathe.

The doctors said that it’s normal for cases of head trauma like his, that there’s not much that can be done except keep pain medication on hand, that this could get worse as he gets older.

But the pain is better than the accompanying nausea.

Nothing makes that better. In fact, sometimes his meds or laying down make it worse.

He hates throwing up. The moment he gets that fluttery feeling in his stomach and his mouth starts to build up too much saliva, he’s ready to beg for someone to sedate him so he doesn’t have to throw up.

Once he does the five or six swallows in a row, he knows it’s game over.

His heart starts racing, his whole body breaks into an instant sweat, and he feels his legs go numb.

He usually makes it to the bathroom just in time, but he’s had instances where it all came on so quickly he had to get to the kitchen sink or the trash can, or one time, the floor of the hall.

He hates the way it feels so much, losing control of his body even temporarily while it expels whatever he’d dared eat or drink, he’s become genuinely afraid of it happening.

So when a migraine hits him out of nowhere while he’s cooking dinner for the Hellfire Club meeting in his dining room, he just knows he’s in for it.

He’d been lucky for the last three weeks, not even a hint of a headache to be felt. The sharp pulse of the sudden onset migraine made him nearly buckle at the knees at the counter where he was cutting up vegetables that he was hiding in the sauce for the kids.

He held back as much of a whimper as he could, but the second pulse of pain coursed through his head, down his neck, into his shoulders, and he couldn’t keep quiet.

He heard the group in the other room get quiet, and then heavy footsteps, Eddie’s boots, on the floor.

“Steve? What happened? Did you cut yourself?” Eddie asked from the doorway.

Steve couldn’t quite answer, his eyes squeezed shut and his whole weight against the counter in front of him, all focus he had going to not screaming out in pain.

“Jesus. Okay.” Eddie must have realized what was happening. He hit the main light switch off, only the stove light remaining on. He walked over to Steve and gently wrapped an arm around his middle, shifting him away from the counter so he could lean against him. “C’mon Stevie. Let me get you to your room.”

“Can’t,” Steve managed to say through gritted teeth.

“Okay. Um. Okay. How about I carry you?”

Steve and Eddie both knew he couldn’t carry him upstairs. To the other room, maybe, but Eddie wasn’t built with the type of muscles it would take to get them both up the staircase.

“Okay, you’re right.” Steve hadn’t even said anything, but Eddie must have realized how crazy that sounded. “I’ll carry you to the stairs, then we’ll make our way up slowly, and then I can carry you the rest of the way.”

That didn’t sound impossible, but Steve knew the moment he was jostled, he’d start dry heaving.

He could feel the way his stomach was turning, the heat of the zing of pain in his belly making him wish he could pass out before he vomited.

He tried to get Eddie to stop moving him, maybe if he stood still for a minute, he could mentally convince the nausea to go away.

He couldn’t speak, though, and it was already too late.

One, two, three, four, five swallows.

He started gagging before he could even warn Eddie.

“Shit. It’s okay, sweetheart. Take in a deep breath, hold it, then let it back out.” Eddie was doing his best to get him over the sink or the trash can before anything came out, but he was already dead weight against him and could feel his body heaving. “Alright, let it out, I’ll clean it up after.”

Steve was crying silently, his body curling over the sink that he’d just put a few dirty dishes into, his mouth drooling the excess spit out.

Eddie’s left hand was rubbing his back and his right was pushing his bangs off his face so he could feel the cool air against his forehead.

It still didn’t help.

Steve was throwing up into the sink, tears streaming down his face, his stomach clenching every time he tried to catch his breath.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. It’ll be over in a minute,” Eddie was saying quietly next to him.

It felt like time dragged on, and the smell and sight of everything was making it worse.

Eddie was doing his best to run water to rinse the sink, but it wasn’t enough, and Steve kept thinking about how he would have to touch it to get it all out.

“Is Steve okay?” he overheard Dustin ask quietly from the door.

“Yeah, bud. Just got hit with a migraine. Can you call Nancy and see if she can bring you all home?”

Steve didn’t know what Dustin responded with, but he assumed he agreed because Eddie turned all of his attention back to him.

Steve’s stomach rolled again, another set of smaller, almost dry heaves making fresh tears roll down his cheeks as he tried to reach a shaking hand over to cover Eddie’s hand on his hip.

He felt weak, which was almost worse than everything else. Being unable to hold himself up, or walk, or even talk was terrifying to him.

“Hate this,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, rough from heaving for the last three minutes.

“I know, sugar. Do you think you’re done?”

It was hard to know. Sometimes, it was one and done and he just had to ride out the migraine in bed for however long it took to go away. Sometimes, he’d be heaving into a toilet off and on for hours. The nausea usually didn’t go away either way.

Eddie didn’t wait for a response; he knew Steve didn’t know for sure.

“Let’s get you in bed,” he said as he used a wet paper towel to wipe Steve’s face. “Might be better if you aren’t standing.”

Logically, yeah. But physically, if Steve had to go up the stairs right now, he would probably end up worse off.

“Bath?”

“You want a bath down here?”

“Mm.”

It would be much easier, and keeps him close to a toilet just in case he has to throw up again. Plus, Eddie would wash his hair to help him relax and he needed that.

“Mkay, love. Let’s get you in the bath, then,” Eddie kissed his temple, letting his lips linger for a few seconds.

He slowly moved Steve down the hall, towards the only bathroom on the ground floor, designed for guests and remodeled in the last year to be a haven for any of the kids who stayed over with him.

He’d made it a stipulation when his parents signed the house over into his name, that they paid for the bottom floor bathroom and guest room to be made over completely. They felt just bad enough about leaving him in a desolate town that they agreed.

Eddie went through filling the tub, stripping Steve, and pouring the peppermint oil that helped Steve’s migraine and his nausea into the water.

He helped Steve get in, his legs shaking like a newborn calf standing for the first time, and made sure he got settled all the way back.

“Let me get you some water and make sure the kids are getting picked up. Yell if you need me, I’ll come running.”

“I know.”

He always did.

The moment Steve needed him, didn’t matter what time of night or day, or what they were doing, or where they were, if Steve needed him, Eddie would come.

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, the peppermint cleansing his nose of the vomit smell from before.

He couldn’t hear anyone, but he knew they would all be doing their best to keep quiet since he had a migraine.

They were good kids.

And Gareth, who apparently had a secret crush on Steve for a while and only got over it when he met a girl at one of their shows, and wouldn’t dream of disrupting him.

He let his mind slow, the nausea mostly going away for now, but the sharp pain of his head keeping him from being able to fully relax.

He felt hands on his shoulders soon enough, guiding him forward so Eddie could slide in behind him.He loved this bath for this exact reason: being able to comfortably rest against Eddie’s front.

“Any better?” Eddie whispered, his breath fluffing Steve’s hair.

“Tiny bit.”

“Want me to wash your hair?”

“Soon.”

He just wanted to relax for a few minutes, enjoy the hot water keeping him warm, his boyfriend’s hands gliding across his chest and arms to keep him safe.

“Tell me when you’re ready, love.”

“Stay forever.”

Words were hard when he had a migraine. Everyone, especially Eddie, was used to the broken words and barely-there sentences.

That was a hell of a sentence to get out though.

“Not going anywhere, sweetheart. You’re stuck with me forever.”

“Mm.”

Eddie kissed his shoulder when he turned his head to rest it further against Eddie’s shoulder.

Eventually, he knew he needed to get out, or he’d end up falling asleep and Eddie wouldn’t be able to get him out of there easily once that happened.

“Wash?”

“You got it.”

Eddie was so careful, his fingers gently gliding through the ends and scratching his scalp softly. He applied just enough pressure along his hairline for Steve to feel temporary relief, the intense pain turning to a dull pulsing sensation while he worked.

“Lean back to rinse, I’ll hold you,” Eddie slowly guided him back and down into the water, one hand on his back to hold him steady, another running through his hair to get the bubbles out.

“All set, sweetheart.”

Eddie got out first, wrapped a towel around his waist, and then helped Steve out. He wrapped a towel around Steve’s waist, and another one around his shoulders to keep him warm. He kicked his foot out to drain the tub, and then let Steve rest his head on his shoulder while they walked to his room upstairs.

Eddie threw on a pair of boxers, ignoring the fact that he was still a little damp. He started slowly drying Steve off, patting along his skin as slowly as he could get away with without Steve getting too cold.

“No clothes.”

Sometimes, migraines made every touch of something against his skin unbearable. It was rare, but it made even his softest and comfiest clothes feel like sandpaper.

“You’ll get cold,” Eddie reminded him.

“Got you.”

Eddie sighed, but gave in. He’d try to bundle him up in a blanket once he was asleep so he didn’t catch a cold.

He helped Steve get into bed, and quickly got in next to him so he could cuddle into his side, using his arm to block out any light from the lamp in the corner.

He hated darkness, but the migraines made it nearly impossible to keep lights on. They’d finally found a lamp that had a dim orange glow, and it was known as his migraine mood lighting.

Steve lay naked in the bed, the cool sheets under him providing some relief, his body curling into Eddie’s side.

Eddie placed a hand on his head, just a light pressure to let him know he was there.

“Got me?”

“Got you, love. Always. Just go to sleep. It’ll be better when you wake up.”

Eddie couldn’t quite kiss him, not at the angle they were laying, but he felt him pull his hand away for a moment, heard him kiss his palm, then place his hand back on his head.

He sighed contentedly, or at least as content as one can be with a migraine, and let himself fall asleep. If things got bad again, Eddie would be there.