𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗲

“The neck? Your neck hurts?” you check, your hands coming to the back of her head to find the cold sweaty skin. 

You shift a little, careful not to jostle her too much and slowly guide her head until it rests right on your knees. Her blonde hair spills over your lap like strands of gold, even though it’s damp with sweat right now. Your fingers slide into it naturally, combing through the soft waves, then moving up to her forehead. You press lightly, rubbing small circles with your thumbs, hoping it eases some of the pressure building behind her eyes. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” you whisper, and she lets out a shaky breath. 

The outside world is bright and deadly for her right now, Kara’s face is still twisted up, those dark veins crawling under her skin, but she leans into your touch anyway.

“Talk to me,” she whispers after a minute. “Please. Distract me… your voice.”

You suddenly become aware of many things: she’s so close, her head heavy and warm on your knees, trusting you like this while she’s hurting. For a second you wonder if this is the moment. You could just say it, spill everything about how your crush on her has been growing for months, how every smile she throws your way makes your chest feel too tight, how you’d do anything to keep her safe even on this stupid hostile planet. The words are right there on the tip of your tongue, pushing to get out.

But no. Not now. She’s in pain, vulnerable, and the last thing you want is to make things weird when she needs comfort. You swallow it down, force a soft smile even though she can’t see it, and keep running your fingers over her forehead in steady strokes.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to bake cookies for the first time? I wanted to impress a girl at a party and it was a total disaster. I forgot the baking soda or something, I don’t even know. They came out hard enough to break a tooth.”

Kara makes a small sound that might be a laugh, or maybe just a pained huff, but her eyes stay closed. You take it as a good sign and keep going, your hands never stopping their gentle work through her hair and across her brow.

Your fingers trace down to her temples now, pressing softly, then back up into her hair. You can feel how tense she still is, the way her shoulders hitch every few seconds when another wave hits her. It kills you to see her like this. Kara is always the strong one and now she’s curled up depending on you. 

“Did you know that butterflies taste with their feet? They have these little receptors on their feet that help them determine if a leaf is suitable for laying eggs or if a flower contains nectar.” You stumble a little on the words but recover fast, laughing awkwardly under your breath. “Isn’t that cool?”

She shifts her head a bit on your lap, pressing her cheek more firmly against your thigh. “Keep going,” she mumbles. “It helps. Your hands... feel nice.”

That simple praise makes your face heat up, but you don’t stop. You card your fingers through her hair again, slower this time, letting the strands slip between them. Outside the cave the sun is probably still raging, but here it’s just you and her, the dim light filtering in just enough to see the way her lashes flutter against her cheeks.

“Alright… Well, my favorite ice cream flavor has to be caramel… sometimes salted caramel depending on which ice cream shop does it. What about you? No, don’t answer yet, just rest. I’ll guess. Something classic, maybe vanilla. Nah, you’re more adventurous than that. Probably pistachio, because you’re cool like that.” You chuckle quietly, your thumb brushing over her forehead again, trying to smooth out the furrow there. “When we get back home, I’ll buy you a whole tub. We can eat it straight from the container while watching bad movies. The ones with terrible special effects and lines that make you groan out loud. I know you secretly love those too.”

Time stretches out like that, your voice filling the cave with silly stories and half-baked thoughts. You talk about the dumbest things while your hands keep moving, soothing through her hair, across her forehead, down to rub the back of her neck where she said it hurt worst. Every little sigh she lets out feels like a tiny victory.

Deep down the crush is still there, but for now this is enough. Being here for her, distracting her from the pain, feeling the weight of her head on your knees like it belongs there. You’ll confess one day, maybe when she’s not hurting and the sun isn’t trying to tear her apart. For now, you just keep talking, hoping your words wrap around her until the worst of it passes.

bonus:

kara: it's bubblegum you: what? kara: my favorite ice cream flavor is bubblegum you *snorting loudly*: that's so lame kara my crush on you is over kara: YOUR WHAT

a/n: i needed to write some comfort and this is all i have to offer

“We have to be quick before they notice,” you tell her as she keeps kissing you down your neck. 

“Mhm, I’m all yours.” She squeezes your ass, the grinding growing needier. 

You smile against her skin and slide one hand down between your bodies, pushing up under her skirt until your fingers brush against her panties. She’s already soaked through them, desperate from all that grinding. 

“Yeah? All mine?” you whisper, hooking your fingers around the fabric and tugging it aside. 

Jean nods fast, her breath hitching when you press two fingers against her slick folds. You push them inside her nice and fast, curling just right, and start pumping in a steady rhythm that makes her thighs shake around your leg. 

“Ah!” she whimpers, biting her lip hard but it doesn’t stop the little noises spilling out. She gets so whiny like this, her usual cool attitude melting away until she’s just needy and soft for you. “Please… please, baby.”

“Shh, quiet,” you whisper, lips brushing her ear as you speed up your fingers, fucking her deeper. The wet sounds are loud in the tiny cubicle, but you can’t help it. “Can’t be loud, remember? The team’s right out there. Joseph would lose his mind if he heard you moaning like a slut for me.”

She whimpers again, louder this time, burying her face in your neck. Her hips rock down to meet every thrust, not thinking about anything except chasing your hand “I-I can’t… feels too good… please don’t stop!”

You chuckle softly, pressing a kiss to her temple while your thumb finds her clit and rubs tight circles. “My pretty girl gets all stupid when I fuck her, huh?” You praise her in the same breath. “Doing so good for me too. Taking my fingers like that… getting them all messy.”

Jean’s legs tremble harder, her tits pressed tight against yours with every shaky breath. She’s clutching your shoulders now, nails digging in as she tries to stay quiet, but the little “please, please, please” keeps tumbling out between gasps. You curl your fingers again, hitting that spot that always makes her fall apart, and she sobs against your skin.

“That’s it, cum for me,” you coo, mocking her gently. “But be good and stay quiet, okay? Don’t wanna get caught with my hand between your legs.”

She nods frantically, but the second you pick up the pace, pounding your fingers into her fast and deep, she cums hard. Her whole body jerks, thighs clamping around your hand as she soaks your fingers and drips down your wrist. A choked moan escapes before she bites your shoulder to muffle it, trembling through every wave.

When she finally sags against you, breathing heavily, you pull your hand free and bring your shiny fingers to your lips, tasting her with a little grin.

“Good girl,” you whisper, kissing her softly. 

“I-I’m sorry hah tried not to be loud, I promise,” she says quickly, still breathless. 

You kiss her lips again, then her cheek and nose. “It’s okay, baby. C’mon, lemme fix your skirt before someone knocks.”

“The neck? Your neck hurts?” you check, your hands coming to the back of her head to find the cold sweaty skin. 

You shift a little, careful not to jostle her too much and slowly guide her head until it rests right on your knees. Her blonde hair spills over your lap like strands of gold, even though it’s damp with sweat right now. Your fingers slide into it naturally, combing through the soft waves, then moving up to her forehead. You press lightly, rubbing small circles with your thumbs, hoping it eases some of the pressure building behind her eyes. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” you whisper, and she lets out a shaky breath. 

The outside world is bright and deadly for her right now, Kara’s face is still twisted up, those dark veins crawling under her skin, but she leans into your touch anyway.

“Talk to me,” she whispers after a minute. “Please. Distract me… your voice.”

You suddenly become aware of many things: she’s so close, her head heavy and warm on your knees, trusting you like this while she’s hurting. For a second you wonder if this is the moment. You could just say it, spill everything about how your crush on her has been growing for months, how every smile she throws your way makes your chest feel too tight, how you’d do anything to keep her safe even on this stupid hostile planet. The words are right there on the tip of your tongue, pushing to get out.

But no. Not now. She’s in pain, vulnerable, and the last thing you want is to make things weird when she needs comfort. You swallow it down, force a soft smile even though she can’t see it, and keep running your fingers over her forehead in steady strokes.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to bake cookies for the first time? I wanted to impress a girl at a party and it was a total disaster. I forgot the baking soda or something, I don’t even know. They came out hard enough to break a tooth.”

Kara makes a small sound that might be a laugh, or maybe just a pained huff, but her eyes stay closed. You take it as a good sign and keep going, your hands never stopping their gentle work through her hair and across her brow.

Your fingers trace down to her temples now, pressing softly, then back up into her hair. You can feel how tense she still is, the way her shoulders hitch every few seconds when another wave hits her. It kills you to see her like this. Kara is always the strong one and now she’s curled up depending on you. 

“Did you know that butterflies taste with their feet? They have these little receptors on their feet that help them determine if a leaf is suitable for laying eggs or if a flower contains nectar.” You stumble a little on the words but recover fast, laughing awkwardly under your breath. “Isn’t that cool?”

She shifts her head a bit on your lap, pressing her cheek more firmly against your thigh. “Keep going,” she mumbles. “It helps. Your hands... feel nice.”

That simple praise makes your face heat up, but you don’t stop. You card your fingers through her hair again, slower this time, letting the strands slip between them. Outside the cave the sun is probably still raging, but here it’s just you and her, the dim light filtering in just enough to see the way her lashes flutter against her cheeks.

“Alright… Well, my favorite ice cream flavor has to be caramel… sometimes salted caramel depending on which ice cream shop does it. What about you? No, don’t answer yet, just rest. I’ll guess. Something classic, maybe vanilla. Nah, you’re more adventurous than that. Probably pistachio, because you’re cool like that.” You chuckle quietly, your thumb brushing over her forehead again, trying to smooth out the furrow there. “When we get back home, I’ll buy you a whole tub. We can eat it straight from the container while watching bad movies. The ones with terrible special effects and lines that make you groan out loud. I know you secretly love those too.”

Time stretches out like that, your voice filling the cave with silly stories and half-baked thoughts. You talk about the dumbest things while your hands keep moving, soothing through her hair, across her forehead, down to rub the back of her neck where she said it hurt worst. Every little sigh she lets out feels like a tiny victory.

Deep down the crush is still there, but for now this is enough. Being here for her, distracting her from the pain, feeling the weight of her head on your knees like it belongs there. You’ll confess one day, maybe when she’s not hurting and the sun isn’t trying to tear her apart. For now, you just keep talking, hoping your words wrap around her until the worst of it passes.

bonus:

kara: it's bubblegum you: what? kara: my favorite ice cream flavor is bubblegum you *snorting loudly*: that's so lame kara my crush on you is over kara: YOUR WHAT

a/n: i needed to write some comfort and this is all i have to offer