#mail time

[lnfours]

Hi!!!

“Are you wearing my sweater?” Prompt 🥹 NEED this kind of fluff in my life. Like Lando stops by readers house to see her and she answers the door wearing his hoodie 😭ugh I can’t it’s making me MELT

anon, i don't think you understand when i say that i'm obsessed with this!!

jordan's birthday sleepover!

ever since you lando had started dating, you made it a routine that every thursday night was date night. even when he was in a different country, the two of you managed to watch a movie together while on facetime.

tonight was like every other thursday night, it was date night. your living room was set up, drinks and the snacks you had picked up at the grocery store sitting on the coffee table with a candle lit in the middle.

a knock on the door made you smile, running over to open the door. when you did, you were met with floppy brown curls and gorgeous eyes, a takeout bag in his hand as he smiled at you.

"hi," his smile was so contagious, making you smile back so wide you were sure your cheeks were going to hurt if you kept smiling.

"hi," you said, stepping aside to let him inside. he placed a kiss on your lips as he entered, the hand that wasn't holding the bag of food resting on your hip.

"are you wearing my sweater?"

you looked down, the black material wrapped around your frame. it was a tad too big, the hem of the hoodie falling at your mid-thigh and almost passing the hem of your shorts. a mclaren logo sat on the upper right side of your chest.

you shrugged, smiling as you looked back up at him, "huh, i guess so,"

"i was wondering where that went," he said, the both of you moving from the entry way and into the living room, "as long as it's in good hands that's all i care about."

"well, you're the one who left it here. what else was i supposed to do with it?" you teased.

he shook his head, laughing softly before continuing, "you look good in my clothes."

"you think?"

he nodded, "defintely. maybe next time you're over you could raid my closet."

it was true, seeing you in his clothes did something for him. made him feel a whole new level of love for you that he didn't think was possible. and if it meant you stealing every single hoodie and every single t-shirt, then so be it.

[feyhunter78]

Hi 💕

If requests are still open can you do something Elrond x reader where reader watches him duelling for sword training (or something similar)?

Can be as sweet or spicy as you want❤️

I know you sent this in ages ago, I'm so sorry!!! Also, I'm so bad at describing fighting, please ignore that

Sparring Sessions

You sit with your friend Taethrien on one of the various stone benches that line the outer circle of the training yard. The open space of packed dirt and training dummies, the sounds of sparring and instruction mingling with grunts of exertion from the younger elves.

“Again.” Elrond calls, his voice sharp, like a whip, his face set in stone, as he jerks his head towards the fallen sword of his sparring partner.

The younger elf, Narion, you believe his name is, picks up his sword, and settles back into a sturdy fighting stance, sweat dripping from his brow.

You know you should intervene, insist that your husband take more care with the younger elves, but you find yourself unable to. Your eyes drawn to his form, the graceful but powerful movements, the controlled strength behind his strikes and swings.

“Elrond is quite intense this morn, is he not?” Taethrien says, watching the pair as they begin, Narion lunging first, seemingly not learning his lesson.

You hum in response, captivated by the easy way Elrond deflects the blow. He has not even broken a sweat, but his hair is disheveled from him raking his hand through it.

There is a smirk, almost cocky, on Elrond’s face as Narion growls and tries to fake right and catch Elrond off guard. He sees right through it, striking Narion’s exposed side.

“Oh, poor boy, he must cease leaving his left side so open.” She continues, frowning as the flat of Elrond’s blade taps against Narion’s ribs.

You hum again, feeling your stomach flip when Elrond spots you and sends you a quick smile, a simple uptick of his lips, but it is enough to make a sudden warmth flood your face.

“Y/N?” Taethrien asks, turning to face you, her brows furrowed. “Are you listening.”

“Yes, yes, I agree, left side, much too exposed.” You say far too quickly, remembering where you are and tearing your eyes from Elrond.

She tilts her head, a catlike smile on her lips, but says nothing of your reaction. “My husband should be along soon, perhaps he will present a finer challenge for Elrond than the young ones do.”

“I am sure it will be a worthy display of both their skills.” You smile, bumping your shoulder into hers. “And it will allow me to see this strength of his you are so very fond of.”

 “I told you of that in confidence.” She whispers, blushing all the way to the tips of her ears.

“It is nothing to be ashamed of.” You reassure her, patting her hand.

A sudden shout draws your attention back to the ring, where Elrond has Narion at sword point, the young elf on his back in the dirt. You grip your skirts, a flash of heat surging through you as Elrond sheathes his sword with a one-handed, fluid motion, before pulling Narion up from the dirt.

“It seems we both may have something, not to be ashamed of.” Taethrien teases, making a show of pretending to try and unfurl your fingers.

You do not tease her in return when it is her husband against yours, they are newly married, still in a phase of infatuation, still discovering much about themselves and each other. Besides, you are far too focused on Elrond as he and Iandor spar, their swords singing, sparking through the air, throwing bits of sunlight as it glints off their blades.

“Do keep up Elrond, I know you have not tasted battle in ages, but surely you cannot be this out of practice.” Iandor taunts jovially, a bright smile on his face.

Elrond throws him a devastatingly charming smile in response, the gleam of a worthy challenge in his eyes. “No, my friend, I am simply allowing you the advantage, I would not wish to embarrass you in front of your new bride.”

They spar for what feels akin to eternity as well as mere moments until they call it a draw, both men breathing heavily, clapping each other on the shoulder as they return their weapons to the rack.

You meet Elrond halfway, and he wipes the sweat from his brow, smiling at you, his chest still rising and falling harshly. “My starlight, I can only hope we did not bore you.”

“I never tire of watching you train.” You tell him, dusting the dirt from his training leathers, attempting to banish the memory of your wedding night from your mind. The way he looked hovering above you, his curls wild, his pupils blown wide, his bare chest heaving, the sound of your name on his lips. “I always find such interest in seeing more of this side of you. I know my husband the poet, the herald, the romantic, but I see seldom see my husband the warrior.”

“Truly, I prefer the quill to the sword, but I cannot deny a good bout brings a certain sense of joy to me.” He says, as you both wave goodbye to Taethrien and Iandor.

“You fight well, as you always have.” You compliment, leaning your head against his arm as you walk back to your shared chambers. You must cease these thoughts, stifle the heat, lest you become a lecher for your own husband.

“I am better with a bow.” He deflects, ever so humble.

“You are skilled with both, though I would not say you are a better archer than swordsman.” You tease. “That title belongs to Galadriel.”

Though you say it, your mind’s eye still conjures an image. His deft hands wrapped around the bow, his broad shoulder spread, his spine straight, his arms taut as he pulls back the arrow. Heat rushes through you once more, and you bite the inside of your cheek to clear your mind.

“Yes, I know it is your preference, but it is not…” Elrond stretches his arms behind his head, a small groan slipping past his lips, and you all but trip over your own feet.

“It is not what?” He asks, his hands flying out to steady you. His touch is lightning, striking through you, setting fire to the desire that had been bubbling within you since his blade had met its first foe in the early hours of the morn.

“Stars, Elrond, simply—” You grab him by the collar of his leathers and yank him down, your lips melding with his, frantic and fevered.

He melts into your touch, lips parting as his grip tightens on you, dragging you closer.

You press yourself against him, walking him backwards until his back meets the wall, a surprised gasp escaping him.

“We are still along the path; anyone could come upon us.” He breathes, loathe to separate his lips from yours.

“We will hear them before they do.” You assure him, though you doubt your vigilance and his, when your lips leave his own, trailing across his chiseled jaw, up to his ear, taking his earlobe between your teeth.

Elrond lets out a strangled moan, the sound shooting through you, warming you like Dwarven ale. “Fenedhis, y/n, please.”

You press a chaste kiss to the place beneath his ear, and return your lips to his jaw, your fingertips replacing your teeth, tracing the shell of his ear. “Of course, my love, anything you desire.”

He groans lowly, his fingers bunching in your skirts as he tries to calm himself. “My sweet starlight, do not torture me.”

You untangle one of his hands, and slide it beneath your skirts, a shiver running through you when he grips your thigh and drags you closer. “I would never. I want only to give you what you desire, remember?”

His chest brushes against yours with each breath, leather against silk, desire swirling between you, as he leans down to capture your lips, stopping a hairbreadth away. “Let us return to our chambers then, it seems you much to give me.”

TROP tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @elronds-pointy-ears, @elrondscalaquendi, @dilf-superiority, @jesticace, @emmyspov, @elrondswifey, @victoria-styles, @90angiex, @lucypaulette

[aromantic-diaries]

To expand on that other anon’s need for human blankets

Can we just normalise cuddle-buddies? FWBs are already a decently accepted form of relationship, can we just do the same thing where the benefits are pure non-sexual contact?

Because i have a bunch of guy friends that are touchstarved but they refuse to cuddle due to wanting to be respectful but overdoing it. And if some of them dogpiled on me and each other i think our souls might finally be pressed back into our bodies.

Doesn't need to be normalised! You can just be affectionate with your friends if they're comfortable with that and that's all there is to it

[hardcoregamer]

20 Amazing Games You Can Beat In One Afternoon

I imagine I'm not alone in this plight because adult life is relentless. So, in a bid to help all you reluctant grown-ups continue having profound and memorable gaming experiences, let's go over some of the best options when it comes to great games that you can beat in a single afternoon.

Check them out!

[chlorinatedseacow]

I GOT COOL MAIL!!

@fakewizard and I connected through @craftexchange ! I want to show you the COOL things he sent so I made a collage!!

I also love my scanner, so yes I am scanning all my mail!!

The Chincoteague bookmark is accidently a deep cut for me, because I was a horse kid and thus my family took me there as a young one! So loved that very much!!

BUT I loved everything and I'm really excited to be connecting with people and sharing art together!

I think the eyeball sticker might be my fave?? But it's so hard to pick!!

SNAIL MAIL WITH FOLKS! That is my message~

[tangerine-haus]

MAIL TIME!!!!!!!

Here’s the mail it never fails it makes me wanna wag my tail when it comes I wanna wail MAIL!!!!!

Circa 2003-2004

[autumnsaesthetics]

🍁 Cozy Video Games For Autumn 🍁

Part Two!

(Row One) 🍁

Costume Quest

Costume Quest 2

Lemon Cake

(Row Two) 🍂

Mail Time

Witchy Life Story

Strange Horticulture

(Row Three) 🍁

Garden Story

Kynseed

Botany Manor

(Whether the games themselves are Autumnal is up to you but these are just cozy games where you can curl up and (hopefully) you're not on edge while playing 😂)

[lnfours]

Lando making reader go from "don't forget to pull out, okay?" to "pleasepleaseplease come inside, i need it, i need it"

the switch up would be absolutely bonkers and i know it. also my friends and i just rewatched all the after movies and all i could think about was that one scene in the home gym but w lando and i need it.

smut (18+ please!)

lando thoughts? lando thoughts.

your nails digging into his biceps felt like heaven as his lips kissed yours, a soft moan rising from his throat. your head tilted back against the pillows, letting his lips travel down your jaw and your neck. he kissed all the way down to your collarbone, his hips meeting yours as you tugged on the curls at the top of his head.

“lando, fuck,” you sounded so pretty moaning his name. breathless, back arching off the mattress. a sight he never wanted to forget.

“yeah?” he asked, hands grabbing your thighs and wrapping them around his waist. the new position making him fuck you deeper. you moaned loudly at the feeling, fingers now raking down his back, “like this baby?”

“mhm,” was all you could manage to say.

“where do you want me to come?” his hands slipping between your bodies and finding your clit with ease. your mouth fell agape at the feeling, hips bucking up into his touch.

“fuck- in me. please.” you begged and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“thought you wanted me to pull out?”

“not anymore,” you panted, “i want you to fill me up.”

his eyes rolled back, hips suddenly slamming into you a little faster, “shit, you’re sure?”

you nodded, the familiar warm feeling spreading through your lower stomach, “please. i’m so close.”

“me too, baby,” he said, “gonna fill you up. just like you want.”

you moaned at his words. thighs shaking as he worked you up, “i’m gonna come.”

“me too,” he said, “come for me, love.”

you moaned as you squeezed him tightly, body convulsing as you let your orgasm wash over you. he followed in pursuit, his orgasm getting buried deep inside you as he rode out his high.

you whimpered softly as he pulled out, eyes locked to where your bodies were previously conjoined. he watched the way your thighs shook, spreading your legs and watching his cum drip from inside of you. he moaned at the sight, damn near hard again as he leaned down.

you gasped as his tongue gently licked a stripe up your pussy, his fingers replacing it shortly after as he fucked the remaining fluids back into you.

“fuckin’ hell,” he mumbled, kissing the inside of your thigh as you grasped at his curls, “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

[feyhunter78]

I’m sorry I never ask for writing requests but your Elrond fics have stolen my heart. I was wondering if you could write about him and a reader who had been through some trials (bad parents preferably but whatever you’d like is good) and he talks about how brave she is? Like how he loves her because of it? And possibly some sweet smut if you could? If not that’s all good, I love love your writings!

So my requests areeee closed, but I do have a soft spot for Elrond and comforting people, so I thought I'd make an exception, there is no smut though I didn't feel like it would flow naturally

Courage and Comfort

It is strange the bonds that bind, the joys, and sorrows that collectively inhabit and pass down a family line, tainting one, honoring the other. An endless cycle of shared traits and habits, a history that one cannot blot out no matter how hard they endeavor to, and Valar knows you have endeavored for years upon years to cleanse yourself, to rewrite the past. But you can no more do that than the sun can refuse to rise in the morn.

Though when you hear news that your parents were in Lindon, to visit your sister, you feel as if the sun has refused to rise, darkness overwhelming you, choking you. The news is delivered by a young elf, who looks appropriately concerned when the scrolls you are holding clatter to the ground, stooping low to retrieve them for you. You take them gratefully and dismiss him, your feet taking you away from your previously chosen path, and back to your shared chambers with Elrond.

But fate did not favor you, and you passed by your parents in the gardens. You kept your head held high as you made brief conversation with them, moving about as if it had not taken all your strength, until you were blessedly at the door to your chambers, scrolls clutched tightly to your chest.

Elrond, your sweet husband who no doubt will be buried in his work with the High King, you do not wish to bother him with your fear, your sorrow. He has spent so very long comforting you, the last time your parents had deigned to visit Lindon. Your vision blurs and you wipe your eyes, angry. You will not cry because of them; they did not deserve your tears. And yet when you cross the threshold, depositing the scrolls on your desk, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and cannot stop them from flowing. How in such a short span of time have they wrecked you? They barely spoke a few words to you, and it has affected you so greatly.

Sinking down into a nearby chair, you bury your face in your hands, breathing slowly as you attempt to calm yourself. Attempt to push your fear and grief far from your body, to let it evaporate into the air and disperse, no longer plaguing you. After a while it works, a lightness replacing the heavy weight on your chest, the sunlight returning, the birds singing, and Elrond is there seated in the chair across from yours. You startle, having not heard him come in, your cheeks heating as embarrassment flushes through you.

“My love, apologies, I did not realize you had returned.” You say, giving him a weak smile.

Elrond shakes his head, reaching forward and taking your hands in his. They are warm, gentle, calloused more now that he has returned to training with his sword. “The messenger came and found me; he was concerned for your wellbeing.”

You give a soft, half-convincing laugh. “What a sweet boy, he simply surprised me, but it was very kind of him to be concerned.”

Elrond’s thumbs smooth over the backs of your hands, his oakwood eyes focused entirely on you, pulling you in, paging through your defense like they are a children’s book. You have never been able to hide your true feelings from him. “It brings me no joy to hear your parents are visiting, even if it is not to see you.”

It is an opening for you to speak your mind without judgement, a way to ease any guilt you may have for expressing reluctance, or anger for he has done it first. It warms your heart, how he cares for you, how he strives to make expressing your more difficult feelings and emotions easier.

“I ran into them, on my way here, I know it would bring them great pleasure if I hid while away for the rest of their visit, but I cannot—will not let them win. I have done well for myself, risen above their contempt, this is my home, I should not have to hide.”

“No, you should not.” He affirms easily, his expression steady but sorrowful. 

“I know I should not.” You look down at your joined hands, swallowing hard. “But why do I feel so afraid of the very idea?”

“Because you have never done it before.” He says simply, his voice calm, soothing the fluttering of fear in your chest.

You cannot meet his gaze. “Perhaps I am not courageous enough.”

“You are. Courage is not the absence of fear, but the act of looking past it, persevering even when you are afraid.” He reminds you, releasing one of your hands to gently tilt your chin up, your eyes meeting his. “You are very brave, my starlight, you proved it today. You did not run, you faced them head on.”

“I had no choice.” You deflect, though his words pull your heart further into the light.

“That does not negate the fact that you stood your ground, you could have run.” There is a smile tugging at his lips, one that makes you wish to smile as well.

You give a slight shrug, looking away. “I guess you are not wrong.”

Elrond chuckles and brushes his thumb across the center of your lips. “I am never wrong when it comes to the bravery of my starlight.”

His touch makes you shiver, all fear, and sorrow banished, replace by a warm, glowing feeling. “Oh?”

He nods and sweeps a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Your courage is one of the many things I love so dearly about you.”

“Is that so?” You ask, your head tilting up instinctively seeking out his lips.

“Yes, your courage and kindness, your beauty, your intelligence, it all ensnared me for the moment we met.” He says, his lips brushing against yours with each word.

Your heart skips a beat, even though you have heard these words hundreds of times, they still affect you all the same.

You loop your arms around his neck as he pulls you into his lap, his lips meeting yours with slow languid movements, soft and sweet, he tastes of sunlight, banishing any lingering darkness from your mind. Your body and mind align, tuning your senses to Elrond, losing yourself in his very existence. The scent of him, the taste, the feel of his hair, his hands, his lips against yours. You can certainly continue to be brave if this is your reward.

TROP tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @elronds-pointy-ears, @elrondscalaquendi, @dilf-superiority, @jesticace, @emmyspov, @elrondswifey, @victoria-styles, @90angiex, @lucypaulette

[aromantic-diaries]

It's not that you 'can't' do those romantic things with your friends, but that allo people don't WANT to do that sort of thing with people unless they make their brain go 'ping' with romance. It's like how you only want to be friends with certain people and not literally everyone in existence. You have the friend 'ping' but they have more pings. I have only the 'family' ping but I am fascinated by romance so I've studied it a while. It's like having a favorite food. You don't just eat any food for comfort when you're feeling cold and lonely, do you? You probably have at least a CATEGORY of foods that you take the most comfort from. So, romance exists as a category of person you want to do romantic things with that your brain has decided upon based on all the bits of your brain you've shuffled around while growing up.

I don't get the 'friend' ping so much as I am selective about people I befriend, but it's similar enough to other people like me that I can tell they're pinging even though I'm not.

So, romance, as a concept- doesn't exist. Romantic partners that fit the profile your brain wants for romantic stuff, does.

This is actually the most understandable explanation I have ever received

[nukashine]

Patroling the mojave almost makes you wish for a nuclear winter.

thank u

[maxmoer-foe]

Little Max doodlz

Blue shirt max is from old Japan vlogs and red hat (as you can see) is from mail time :3

I LOVE HOW MAX LOOKS IN MAIL TIME VIDOES HES SO CUTE AND I LOVE HIS HATS HE WEARS EACH VID <33

[sanchomps]

IK you’re the eliksni enjoyer person, but will you be making mini standees of any of the other characters? Theyre so cute I need a whole army

i forgot to answer this 😭 i don't have any plans for other d2 characters than the eliksni and ghosts u_u

[weebz182]

Infinity Nikki- Check your Mail!

Mail time - April 8: Server Maintenance Compensation

[Diamond] * 100

[Resonite Crystal] * 1

[lnfours]

i could imagine how soft lando is after a fight and maybe you could write something about lando and reader had a lowkey big fight, and lando decided to join her to the shower (GWSJZHHAHZ) and apologize under the shower before finally creating a steamy scene with the reader

ooooh my god. oh my god.

smut (18+ please!)

send in your lando thoughts

the argument was something stupid. a result of exhaustion and frustration on his end. he hasn’t meant to upset you, or yell at you for that matter, but he had. and he felt guilty when you turned on your heels, walking away and leaving him in the kitchen.

you two hadn’t seen much of each other the past week and a half. between his traveling, his training schedule and your own calendar, it felt like you were always just missing each other. it felt like you didn’t get to spend so much time with the other recently, which was a big deal to you beings he’s hardly home to begin with.

you knew he hadn’t really meant to go off, maybe you had caught him at the wrong time. you knew he was tired, wanting nothing more than a simple break. but you couldn’t help it. you missed your boyfriend. plain and simple.

he walked into the bedroom, hoping to find you, but instead heard the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. he cracked open the door, stripping off his shirt.

“lando?”

“hmm?”

“what’re you doing?” you asked, but you knew what he was doing. he wasn’t being very subtle about it.

the shower door opened and he step foot inside with you, curls sticking to his forehead as the water fell onto the two of you, “joining you, is that alright?”

you nodded, letting his hands find your hips.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled, letting your back hit his chest, lips brushing against the skin of your shoulder, “for yelling and getting short with you. i shouldn’t have yelled.”

you hummed softly, “‘s okay,”

“let me make it up to you.”

his words lost into the skin of your neck and the sound of the shower water pouring down around you. his hands rested on your tummy, holding you against him as you felt his teeth gently nibble at the skin where your neck meets your collarbone.

“how do you plan on making it up to me?”

his hands moved down, fingers dipping between your folds as he teased you. you gasped, head falling back against his shoulder as he smiled down at you, “‘ve got a few ideas.”

“lando,” his name on your tongue sounded heavenly to him.

“yeah, baby,” he said, “tell me what you want. i’m yours.”

you moaned, his teeth gently pulling at your earlobe.

“fuck,” you swallowed, grasping at his forearm. wet from the warm water and his muscles and veins peeking through his perfectly tan skin, “i need you. please,”

he was quick to move his hands to your hips, the two of you finding yourselves situated with your hands on the glass, his one hand on your hip as the other teased himself up and down your slit.

“this what you want, pretty girl? want me to fuck you up against this shower wall?”

“please,” you said. and he would’ve been lying if he said he could deny you like this. spread out and vulnerable, waiting for him to take care of the aching between your thighs that was simply his fault.

“c’mere,” he mumbled, hand wrapping around the base of your throat to pull your head back, your mouth opening in a gasp as he pushed in. no matter how many times he’d have you like this, the stretch and feeling of tightening around him was never not delicious.

“fuck,” he mumbled, slowly moving his hips once you had fully adjusted, “missed you.”

“i missed you too.” you managed to choke out. his hand was still around your throat and as he picked up his movements, the pressure against the points in your neck became greater and greater. your eyes rolled back as he moaned into your ear.

“i love you,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the skin below your ear, “so much.”

“i love you too,” you could barely speak, too drunk off of the way his dick was slamming in and out of you. how good it felt to let him have his way with you.

“so good for me,” his free hand traveled, finding your clit with ease as he began running tight circles against it, “come for me, baby. you deserve it.”

you moaned his name, making him pick up the pace just a little more as his hips met yours in a consistent pace. the pace that drove you crazy.

soon the coil in your lower belly was threatening to snap, “‘m so close, lan.”

“me too, baby,” he said, “gonna come for me? come all over my dick, hmm?”

nothing could compete with his dirty talk and he knew it. watching the way your body convulsed against him, your moans and the way you tightened around him sending him over the edge.

he came with you, moaning into your ear as you tried catching your breath. chest rising and falling as he pulled you back from the shower wall. he carefully slipped out of you, letting you turn around before he placed a kiss on your lips.

between kisses he mumbled against your lips, “how about we get cleaned up and take this to the bed, hm?”

you nodded, hands finding his curls, “please.”

[feyhunter78]

This new sweet, nerdy Miguel has me FERAL!!!!! HE'S SO CUTE I CAN'T —😩😩😩😩

I need some jealousy from him~ How do you imagine he acts when he feels jealous? He gets quiet and aloof, trying to avoid y/n so she don't notice? Or he gets angry and tries to mark territory? Hehe

AHH THANK YOUUUUU

I definitely want to write a full jealousy fic for him but I’ll give you a sprinkling of my thoughts while I plan for a full fic🫣

So, in the beginning before y’all get together he’s very quiet, really draws into himself, tries to act normal but is just a lot more reserved.

He’s afraid to voice how he feels because he doesn’t want to creep you out. (Gabriel got in his head. Bless his heart the poor boy is trying to help his brother, but he’s going about it the wrong way)

Very much a situation where he’s absent from class for a week or so because he gets sick and when he comes back he realizes another guy in class has been helping you with your notes.

You smile at the new guy, thank him in that sweet way you always thank Miguel and his stomach just churns and his chest starts aching. For a second he thinks he’s still sick, but when you smile at him and ask how he’s feeling the pain in his chest disappears.

He brushes it off, thanks you quietly for your concern, and throws himself into his work. For the first week you shrug it off thinking he’s still not feeling well, but after a while you end up confronting him which leads to:

“I just—I saw you and Brett, and, I’m glad you got help with your notes but you know you could’ve come to me.” He’s leaning against the wall, the wall you’ve trapped him against with your determined attitude and your inability to register when you’re invading his personal space.

“Miguel you were home, sick, and I didn’t want to bother you.” You remind him, your voice soft, tinged with concern.

He looks down at his feet, his shoulders hunched, his whole body curled in on itself. “You’re never a bother, not to me, so don’t—please don’t go looking somewhere else.”

But, when y’all get together???? Game changer. He’s still shy and he’s still the same Miguel you knew before but he’s more confident, he knows you won’t find it weird or creepy that he feels territorial over you. Now when a frat guy looks your way a bit too long in the courtyard he simply tilts your chin up with one finger and kisses you.

Of course his face is bright red after that and he buries it the crook of your neck, his big strong arms crushing you to his chest, and every time he does this you think it’s so cute.

If y’all are in private though, and say you have to go to a party or you’re going to be doing some joint event with a frat, he definitely likes sitting you in his lap and mouthing at your skin. Nothing too crazy on your neck, but he does leave a few large hickeys on your breasts, ones that sticks out from beneath the neckline of your shirt.

Just a bit of:

“Miguel! Come on, you know I didn’t bring any concealer.” You whine, your fingers tangled in his hair as his warm lips ghost over your skin, his tongue tracing the blossoming marks that trail down from your pulse point, dipping beneath the neckline of your shirt.

“I’m sorry mi dulce, I couldn’t help it, you look so pretty.” He says, as he dips his head biting down on the soft flesh of your breasts, his large hands holding them, pushing them up, his fang-like incisors scratching against your skin deliciously.

“I have to go, I’m going to be late for the mixer.” You try to tell him, your hands leaving his hair to lightly push at his chest.

One of his hands leaves your breasts, and spans your upper back keeping you pressed against him.

“Just one more? Please?” He asks, looking up at you with such adoration in his eyes you nearly grab your phone to text your sisters you’re not going to make it.

You sigh, but it’s halfhearted, playful, indulging. “One more.”

He smiles and captures your lips one more throughly distracting you as he lays you down on the couch under him.