#I need to know….. for a drawing I’m making

[kasieli]

Teen Titans portraits ft. my favorite birb babes!!!

[yugsly]

Do you have any advice for artists who so desperately want to create something- anything- but nothing they do feels or comes out right? To the point where it feels like a herculean task to even draft ideas out. I wouldn’t describe it as an art block because it’s been years now, in my case.

I know it’s a bit of a heavy question and the same advice won’t work for every body. I suppose I’m just curious if you’ve ever dealt with similar emotions. Your art plucks my heartstrings and makes me think in ways few other artists have, thank you for making such wonderful creations and thank you for providing the opportunity to engage like this.

It sounds like you need to find your voice. Or, find your Voice again. I have dealt with similar things. I was in a similar slump the past couple of months. ... Uh, like six months. It was Really Bad. Nothing felt right. I forgot why I did art and why I liked it, for a beat, and I felt very lost. Was incredibly hard to draw and think.

What finally took me out of it (I guess I'm still digging myself out, but) was revisiting things that lit my fire to begin with, reminded me what I was fighting for with my visions in the first place. Music, comics, movies! Talking with my friends about those things. Go to the library for a day and dig around. It sounds silly maybe but Trust.

And starting small. Don't start something thinking it has to be Your Big Thing. Something consumable. You gotta do it for yourself. Make something you want to see. Make comics on napkins. Doodle with crayons. You gotta let loose. It sounds silly but you gotta start with, "it ain't that serious." You're just you. Playing dolls. Draw what you WANT to play with. Share it with others if you want to, if that motivates you, but don't let others become the only reason you create.

I don't know if this helps.

Thank you, by the way!

[inactiveaccount-lovendeepsecrets]

Domestic + Intimate Headcanons

*Minus Caleb only because his myth and cards aren't out yet, and I don't feel confident adding him when there's so much lore and little quirks we still don't know about him. I shall make a separate post for him if this goes well.

But Hi! This is my 1st hc so please go easy on me. I believe some of the bullet points on here are canon, but I can’t help talking abt how cute this all is 🫠 I'm not the best writer and I tried so hard to be impartial, but you can probably still tell where my bias lies LOL

As always these are just my opinions!!

tags: headcanon, fluff, mostly gender neutral, but these lean towards an afab + fem!reader, 18+

***MDNI; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something nsfw despite the warnings and will be BLOCKED***

Disclaimer: I personally think all of them like praise, body worship and are humungous eaters. If the specifications aren't noted under your fav LI, it's because I didn't want this too become too redundant!

✵ ✰ ✷ ✭✮ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ ❅ ❆ ❃ 𓆰· 𓆃

Rafayel

SFW

• Has definitely set up a date where you do that TikTok trend painting portraits of each other

• Hates the caricature you two posed for at the amusement park

• On more than one occasion you've (jokingly) threatened to frame said caricature at his gallery to shut him up during an argument

• Is an escape artist. He has a long history of being captured/on the run. It’s no wonder he could easily untie himself from your ropes

• I don't think we talk enough about how rich this man is, but I think he'd be quite into second hand fashion. Think runway archives, vintage designer pieces, custom couture, etc.

• Always drives over the speed limit

• Will never tease you during your art lessons with him

• THE best bf to take pictures of you for your social media accounts. He’d suggest different poses while contorting himself in odd positions on the ground just to get the perfect angle

• Sings you to sleep

• Surprisingly good at doing hair. If you need help dying, braiding, or putting your hair in rollers, he'd actually do a pretty good job.

• Created an entire album on his phone of candid photos he took when you weren't looking

• Also made a scrapbook of polaroids from all your scenic dates and vacations together, most of them are of you

NSFW

• He’s a mermaid. He is the motion of the ocean. The hip movements? Stamina? Best (and prettiest) dick game goes to him, I’m sorry.

• LOUD, noisy, and talkative. Starts to ramble when he’s close

• Wax play? [in the submissive]

• Nipple play [in the submissive]

• Edging + Milking

• I think his open vulnerability makes people think he’s more sub leaning, but some of it’s for show

• Because of your bond, he’ll submit; but he’ll do it in such a way that you’re right where he wants you to effectively make the switch

• Make no mistake, he doesn’t mind subbing from time to time. He loves seeing you on top of him, using his body. He feels a sense of accomplishment being a vessel for your pleasure

• There was a tweet that explained how Raf would be a bit of a bully as a dom, but in the best way (recommended read)

• Chuckles and coos at you after each of your orgasms

• Isn’t into watersports, but gets a massive ego boost if you squ*rt

• Is sometimes overly arrogant about toys, but is also so obsessed with you, that he made you get molds of each other on the rare occasions you’re apart for too long

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚

Sylus

SFW

• Has asked his private chef for a one on one culinary lesson to impress you with a home cooked meal

• A patron and secret lover of the arts. Dabbles in the opera, theatre and certain musicals

• He’s*slightly* better at drawing and singing than he lets on, but loves taking the piss

• This man is so funny, but his life and profession is all too serious, making the small moments of banter more precious for the both of you

• Will also hum to lull you to sleep

• Secret polyglot

• His way of ending petty arguments with you is by throwing you over his shoulder and going to bed

• Retail therapy connoisseur

• Surprisingly handy

• He of course, only likes visiting Linkon to see you, but also likes your apartment. While it’s microscopic in his eyes, he slowly understands what small things make a home feel cozy and tries to replicate that at his

• He’s intrigued by your self care sessions and will often indulge, joining in with the sheet masks, aromatherapy, massages and waxing (he likes the heat of the wax lol). He’ll put on a brave face and deny the pain, boasting about his high tolerance

• Spoils you in general, but especially when you’re sick or on your period

• Will carry you around just cause -much like a typical cat owner who loves to randomly pick up and cuddle their cat LOL

• Would buy out a restaurant for the night and have the orchestra play a medley of some of your favourite songs you’ve discovered from his record collection

• There’s really no such thing as small gestures with him

NSFW

• Marking

• Nipple play (giving and receiving)

• Blindfolds

• Certified munch; almost loves it more than penetrative sex

• AND HE 10000% HOLDS YOUR HANDS WHILE GOING DOWN ON YOU— WHY ISNT THIS WRITTEN MORE IN FICS

• Pleasure dom. He’s not sadistic or a bully when it comes to overstimulation (unlike Raf), he’s the very definition of “will talk you through it”

• Absolutely the type to coo at the sounds and faces you make. You could not look more adorable in his eyes

• Likes watching you solo

• Your satisfaction is his priority, so he’s not intimidated by toys. That being said, he definitely owns a remote vibrator

• Phone sex. No question

• In addition to phone sex, he bought those long distance bluetooth couple’s toys that sync up with each other so it’ll react to both of your movements in real time

• In the submissive, he really loves to see you in control of your own pleasure. He’ll encourage you to use him (eg face sitting, leg humping, cowgirl, etc)

• Slight masochist; those cuffs, paddles and chains are for him 😭 he’s curious to see how far you’ll go. By the end of it all, he’ll use his evol to free himself of whatever restraint he’s under

•As far as a degradation kink, I don’t see it for him, sorry. He adores you too much to call his sweetie a “slut”, “whore”, “filthy,” and so on

• Not as rough as he appears. Really the only time he’s rougher than he realises, is when he’s biting you

• If you want it more aggressive, you’ll have to ask. Even then, he’ll be cautious not to overdo it. The last thing he wants is to hurt you

• It’s canon he loves praise. Giving and receiving

𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡ 𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡ 𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡ 𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡

Xavier

SFW

• Low-key likes to carry you around and his fav way is by piggyback ride (loves being physically close to you and the way you cling to him)

• Will fast all day just for Hotpot or Brazilian steakhouse

• Is much better at baking than cooking

• Leaves you Post-it note love letters in places like mirrors, cabinets, and drawers, before he leaves after spending the night

• Unintentional comedian. He's sometimes taken aback by your laughter, but it only encourages him to keep talking just to hear it again

• He honestly loves sharing things with you; food, books, (his) hoodies, etc. He just doesn’t like sharing YOU

• Would plan a scavenger hunt date

• Is always playing coy because he knows it triggers your cuteness aggression

• The pettiest of petty when he's upset or threatened (look up his affinity lvl 140 video call)

• Sometimes stricter than Zayne when it comes to your health & recovery. He hates to see you over-exerting yourself after an injury and has scolded you before about taking it easy

• Loves to get ready for bed with you at the same time. Showering together, doing skincare together, brushing teeth together; whatever you’re doing he’s either tagging along or sitting there watching you

• When he’s spending the night, he can't fall asleep without you playing with his hair and holding hands

• Learned your favourite flower and has been secretly sneaking into Jeremiah’s greenhouse planting and tending to a small bush of them to gift to you whenever

NSFW

• Thigh job

• Mating press

• Morning sex, specifically morning head (f receiving)

• While going down on you, he def seems like the type to keep going after you’ve climaxed, but he slows down his movements, giving languid kisses to your center to help ride out the wave of pleasure vs intentional overstimulation (though he isn’t against that either)

• It seems that the consensus on here is that he's the best eater of the LIs? I don't necessarily disagree; I'm just not completely sure if that title goes to him quite yet

• The most primal and rough of the LIs. Hair pulling, choking (safely), spanking, leashes

• Also likes it when you’re rough with him

[I know I said I wasn’t confident making any hcs abt Caleb yet, but I have a slight hunch he rivals Xavier for most primal]

• Goes feral when you say his name

• This man is a dom, don’t let the puppy eyes and bunny ears fool you 💀

• He's not as noisy as he is talkative, especially during foreplay

• BOSSY

• I don’t put it past him to feel like he’s in competition with vibrators. He’d rather him use one on you, but knows he’s being irrational

• While he’s not really into feet, he’d suck toes during missionary to see how you’d react

✵ ✰ ✷ ✭ ✧ ✸ ✮ ✵ ✰ ✷ ✭ ✧ ✸ ✮ ✵ ✰ ✷ ✭ ✧ ✸

Zayne

SFW

• Alternatively to Sylus, this man is comprised of small gestures that snowball (hehe) over time. One more meaningful than the next

• While he respects and admires your independence, he needs you to need him. He’ll never vocalise it, but he feels most useful and accomplished when you ask for his help

• Won’t let you carry any bags when you’re out shopping, not even your purse

• Like Rafayel, he also has an album on his phone with pictures of mostly you. Though he feels odd taking your picture when you’re not looking, he’s snuck in a photo or two when you were looking particularly lively mingling with the people at his work event

• Knows your go-to orders at all of your fav restaurants by heart

• Stargazing dates. When either of you are out of town for a while and are catching up on the phone before bed, he’ll tell you to go outside and look at the moon

• After a long shift at work, he’ll kneel by your side of the couch waiting for you to embrace him, hugging and nuzzling your waist

• He also secretly loves being the little spoon

• Subscribed to a delivery service that sends you flowers on your birthday every year

• There’s something about Zayne that makes me think dogs absolutely LOVE him even though he’s not particularly fond of their energetic nature

• Spoils you rotten when you’re on your period. Full princess treatment; plushie heating pads, full body massages, raspberry tea, and hand feeding you snacks. Basically Dr Zayne turns into Nurse Zayne

• He’s more lenient with your cravings, letting you have a small portion of desserts or snacks only after you’ve finished your meal

• Loves your laugh but knows his dry wit won’t always work, so he’ll just tickle you if the joke doesn’t land

• Fell in love with you after the Drunken Intimacy card. It made him realise how much he likes holding you and tending to your needs

• Doesn’t even bother lecturing you about how bad high heels are for your joints and muscles anymore. He now keeps a pair of slippers in his car just in case you start to complain

• He can never resist the urge to kiss your cheek or forehead when he sees you’re fast asleep (Canon 🥹)

NSFW

• Has a weakness for lingerie, lace and stockings

• In the submissive, he’d be just like the kitty butler in his card -the goodest of good boys

• …Feet? I’m not sure if it’s anything freaky. Kudos to whoever clocked that for sub! Zayne months prior to the kitty butler quad banner

• Soft dom, but not as gentle as his voice lets on. He’s already a bit strict with you in your relationship, and he’s the same way in bed. How is he supposed to know what feels good if you don’t vocalise it?

• The only time he’s pretty rough with you is when you provoke him. But he checks in with you to make sure he isn’t being too hard

• Once he loses his control, he gets a tiny bit greedy too (“We’re not done here. Quitting halfway isn’t something I would do” —Silent Poem Secret Times)

• His methods of brat “taming” aren’t anything over the top or domineering. Though he enjoys spanking, he thinks there are better lessons he could teach you to combat your brattiness

• Has definitely gone down on you and stopped altogether right before you climax as a form of punishment

• Shibari + Hitachi -girl run!

• Ice play

• Nipple play (giving and receiving)

• The size of your chest doesn’t really matter to him, he just really likes to hold and massage them. It’s his favourite way to keep his hands warm

• This man is so good with his hands and in more ways than one. The placement and movement of his hands in the Nightly Rendezvous card sent me into orbit. The body worship he’d do is insane

• Needless to say he’s the best at fingering

• You’re irresistible to him. He breathes you into every kiss, deepening as your bodies continue to merge. There’s no sex without passion, even the “quickies”

• Quickies usually only happen when you’ve teased or provoked him too far during (or on your way to) an event. Otherwise, he likes taking his time with you

• He knows your body like the back of his hand. He’s memorised what triggers the sounds, faces, and jolts your body makes

• Much like Xavier, he loves to hear you cry out his name

❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆

[luveline]

Hi Jade! (I’ve sent this before so ignore if you aren’t into it) just thinking about a bau!reader (maybe shy!reader??) who’s dating post-prison Spencer but didn’t know him before prison and she sees some footage of season one Spencer (maybe they need to refer to a recording of a previous case?) and she’s just dying at how cute he is 🥹

You’ve barely woken up with your face in a solid shoulder when Spencer’s turning around.

“Don’t,” he says when you whine, slipping a familiar hand over your hip. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Too early to make fun of me.” 

“Do you think I’m making fun of you?” 

His talking warms your nose where his head is angled down. Your skin smarts with goosebumps as he trails his hand lightly up your back, down again, the slowest, tumbling touch. You shiver, and Spencer, ever so slightly devious in love, says, “Oh, you’re cold?” with great pity as he pulls you closer. 

You rub your face against his shoulder. “Sorry.” 

“Why?”

“I smell.” 

He hums. “Sort of. Not like sweat, though. You smell like sleep.” His lips touch your cheek.

He lets you ‘warm up’ in his arms for a few minutes, then however long you doze for, lost and too comfortable to bother even trying to wake up properly. Your phone pings a couple of times after it comes out of sleep mode, a sure sign you’ve overslept, but Spencer doesn’t make you move until your stomach growls. 

“Come on,” he says, kissing your nose and slipping you back onto your side of the bed. “I’ll make breakfast.” 

“It’s nearly twelve.” 

“You just woke up, and it’s the first thing you’re gonna eat. You are breaking your fast. Breakfast.” He looks pretty even through achy, tired eyes, all the sleep crusted in your lashes no match for Spencer Reid. How you went so long without knowing him is a mystery. 

You get up only because he told you to and because he looked quite lovely when he did it, not because you want to. The bed is warm, that pit of his arms calling your name, but Spencer’s already rolling out of bed with an eager hand scratching through his hair. Sweat has made them tight and a little darker in the back. You’ll both have to shower at some point, preferably after he’s made you breakfast in bed. 

He can see your expectations on your face, and he laughs as he pulls a t-shirt on over his head. “Get up! I’m not bringing it up here, do you know how badly your sleep cycle is affected when you start doing the wrong things in bed?” 

“What counts as the wrong thing?” 

Spencer laughs again, softer now, and for a moment he traces your face with his eyes without speaking. “Fine,” he says, waving a hand at you as he makes for the bedroom door, “stay there. But only ‘cos you look so pretty!” 

“Thank you!” you call back. 

This time with Spencer isn’t enough. You need ten more years of this, thirty, fifty, you need to wake up in his arms and have him touch you and tickle your cheek with his breath. He’s too far to have him come back, so you resign to hugging him when he returns. 

Your phone pings again, drawing your attention finally. The first notification is a reminder to buy toothpaste today at the grocery store. The second is a text from a friend, the third an email. It’s one from last night that piques your interest, another friend, full capital letters: HELP. 

Her use of a laughing emoji defers any urgency. You click on the text thread and scroll up, puzzled by her previous messages, a link, and a caption: oh my god he was so dorky??? 

You open the video and feel your breath catch in surprise. 

Is that Spencer?

You're not stupid, you’ve seen photos of him and his friends together dotted around the apartment from over the years, and every time you come across that photo of him and Diana at a spelling bee with his huge black-framed glasses you have to laugh, but it’s different seeing him to hearing him. 

He’s so nervous. You can’t understand what it is he’s saying, something about mathematical components to profiling criminals. Jason Gideon stands in the background watching him closely. 

“There’s actually a good joke that–”

“Spencer,” Gideon reprimands. 

You watch in awe as Spencer stammers an apology, his cheeks a little pink. You’ve seen Spencer blush, but this feels different. He looks so young. His hair is straight as a pin. 

“Spencer, did you used to straighten your hair?” you call, hoping he can hear you over the sound of a frying pan popping in the kitchen. “Or do you have a perm now, or what?” 

“What!” 

“I’m confused on the logistics of your hair!” You feel something weird in your chest as on screen Spencer tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. It’s a mixture of wanting to eat him and wanting to reach through the screen to stroke his cheek with your thumb. 

Spencer treks back into the bedroom with his pink and white pinstripe apron over his shirt and sweatpants. He smells like cinnamon sugar already. “What are you talking about?” 

“My friend found a video of you and Jason at one of those lectures you did.” 

Spencer presses his lips together. For a moment, he doesn’t speak. “I didn’t do any lectures.”

“Uh, yes you did, liar, and you looked so cute.” You turn your phone to him. “So sweet.” 

He marches to the bed. Before you can stop him, he’s taking the phone from your hand, giving you the world's silliest, tiniest shove when you try to get it back. 

“Cruel,” you quip. 

Spencer stares at the phone screen, then you, “Sorry,” he says, turning pink, “I don’t know why I did that, just– I just–” He frowns deeply. “Can you stop smiling like that?” 

You climb onto your knees, a morning disaster, but when you wrap your arms around Spencer’s waist he looks at you like you’re perfect. His eyes soften, brows relaxing, his irises like dark dimes that slowly dilate as he looks you over. Your phone presses into your back, his arm wrapping around you. 

“You were adorable,” you say sincerely. 

“Not anymore?” 

You rub your cheek against his apron. “No, you still are. Let me watch the video again.” 

“Not a chance.” 

[slutzforbueckers]

one more — p.b x fem!reader

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

warning: smut;nsfw

synopsis: a quickie before bed turns into more.

‎♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

you and paige had been going at it for almost an hour. it was only supposed to be a quick fuck before bed since the both of you were already worn out from the game, which you won of course, but that quickly turned into more after the first time she made you cum. you figured one more wouldn’t hurt but the second the words “one more” came from your mouth, paige was no longer tired and she was ready to fuck you until you tapped out.

“fuck, paige. i’m so close.” you gasped for air, your back arched up into her above you while your hips rocked forward into her hand. her fingers were buried in your leaking cunt. you loved her fingers for how long they were and even more because of how well she could use them, truthfully they’re your favorite part about her.

paige let out a hum of acknowledgment and buried her head in the crook of your neck. she started to scatter kisses along your heated skin, her fingers still maintain the same rhythm as before. her breathing was just as heavy as yours, her own eyes fluttering closed at the sound of your moans and whines.

“gonna cum for me, hmm? you feel so good.”

she absolutely loved the feeling and sound of you cumming on her fingers, she loved knowing that she was the one making you feel that good. she prided herself in it. there were times when she didn’t even need you to return the favor, pleasuring you was enough.

your cunt tightened around her fingers and a cry of her name left your mouth. paige lifted her head to watch as you unraveled underneath her. the sight beneath her was enough to have her letting out a moan of her own.

“you’re so pretty. all mine.” she muttered, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. the palm of her hand was soaked and she was enjoying every second of it. her fingers only slowed slightly, she wanted to see how long she could go before you pushed her away, which wasn’t long.

“okay- okay!” you gasped, reaching down and pushing at her forearm. paige slowed her fingers to a stop and sat back on her legs, her gaze immediately dropping to watch herself pull her fingers out. she cursed under her breath and quickly glanced up at you, a stupid grin breaking out on her face.

“damn, ma.” she shook her head a bit, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. she couldn’t help but to smear your slick up to your clit, just to see your thighs jump from how sensitive you were. “she loves me, huh?”

you scoffed at her arrogance but still couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. you sat up on your elbows to watch as she pulled her fingers to her mouth. she held eye contact with you the entire time she cleaned her fingers from your cum. the look in her eye was evident that she wasn’t yet done with you.

“one more?” she wiggled her eyebrows jokingly, her hands coming to rest on your thighs.

“that’s what i said the one before this.” you weren’t sure you could take another one but you’d gladly return the favor. “i’ll give you one, though.”

“you already know i’m down.”

‎♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

taglist: @jnkbueckers

a/n: this is just something short to get started, i haven’t written for paige before and it’s been a while since I’ve written smut so hopefully this was decent enough!!

[tragicrevenge]

THIS. I was diagnosed with ADHD about 3 months ago, and I remember having a conversation with my therapist about potentially starting medication shortly after the diagnosis. Now, I didn’t start medication right away (kinda regret that ngl) because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to take that route, because the psychiatrist complimented me on how high functioning I was and how she wasn’t going to require medication for me because she was impressed with the coping skills I had and the ways in which I started accommodating myself without even knowing what I was accommodating.

Anyways, I was talking to my therapist about it, because I decided that I would like to try medication. I explained to her that yea, I’m “high functioning,” but it’s so exhausting being that. I have to do mental gymnastics in order to keep the house of cards that is the life I’ve built for myself from completely collapsing. My therapist then pointed out to me that yes, I have struggled because of my ADHD, but the fact that I went undiagnosed and untreated for so long could likely be WHY I’m so creative. Because I HAD to get creative to figure out ways to make my brain work. She said that that creative thinking could be what led me to choosing a career in art, and she warned me that with medication, I could potentially be tampering that creativity if I’m not careful. She didn’t say it outright in a way of “no you shouldn’t need meds,” but still, I thought about it again and have since shared my thoughts with her and she’s supportive of them and my choices regardless, but I’m gonna share those thoughts here.

Yes, my ADHD HAS contributed to my ability to be creative and imaginative a TON. BUT at the same time, it hinders my creativity and my ability to DO something with it. I can never finish a drawing or painting without practically pulling my own teeth, otherwise it can take months to finish just one drawing because I can’t stay focused on most tasks for longer than maybe an hour. I have immense difficulty in organizing my own thoughts in a way that is cohesive enough TO put on paper, which, again, hinders my ability to create. And that’s not to mention the way my ADHD affects my life OUTSIDE of my artwork.

Haven’t started medication yet because the appointment isn’t until next month, but I’m hoping that it can help with this. But, anyways, having ADHD while being a creative person oftentimes feels like wielding a double edged sword.

Being a creative with adhd is so weird because you want to make things so badly but your brain is just refusing to, so you’re just stuck there replaying the exact scene or piece of dialogue or drawing or cinematic shot in your mind while not actually being able to do anything. But at the same time the adhd is actively giving you unique creative experiences and ideas and it feels like a fundamental part of you as an artist. It’s such an interesting dichotomy of feeling the thing that you want to make so strongly and wanting nothing more than to just pour it all out but also being completely unable to do it, and that coming from the same source. But then also you have to live through said dichotomy and it just becomes completely and overwhelmingly exhausting.

[demonic0angel]

Hi!!! I just wanted to tell you thank you!!! Like, every time you post a dpxdc something, I just go feral. I come here after screeching at one your posts like a pterodactyl....inna good way I mean! Your writing just makes days better and brings a smile on my face when I need it. So, thank you for feeding my gremlin brain and sustaining my dark soul!

Anyways! My ask is if the recently posted 'Tim thinks Danny is a vampire but cute' would get a 2nd part????

Thank you!!!!!!!!!😄😄😄😄

(Wahhh tysm! I’m glad you like my stuff :D)

Part 1, Part 3

Tim leaned on a fist as he watched Danny doodle on his notebook instead of taking notes. He was drawing constellations and cartoony stars everywhere, his face dazed even through the camera screen. Tim stared at him, knowing that no matter what Jason said, he was still extremely suspicious and needed a careful eye.

A figure suddenly approached Danny, a tall boy with red hair, freckles, and a face that oddly looked similar to Danny’s. He gathered Danny’s stuff without another word, even as Danny jumped up with a start to protest.

Danny floundered. Tim began reading his lips with narrowed eyes. ‘What! Hey, what’re you doing?’

‘We have to go,’ the boy said tugging on Danny’s wrist. His familiarity with him made Tim bristle as he opened another tab to look into the school records and use his face recognition program to find out whoever the hell this was.

A girl with a bandanna pulling back her curly hair then strode towards Danny. She reached over to hold Danny’s hand and pulled him away from the other boy, both of them urgent. Danny asked her something, his face tilted away enough that Tim couldn’t decipher his words.

Hissing, Tim hurriedly changed perspectives so he could catch the tail of his words. When did Danny have so many friends?! After weeks of watching him, Danny hardly interacted with many people at all! These two people were ones that Tim had seen often lingering about, but how did they know Danny?! And why were they so close to him?!

‘— see something?’

The girl nodded hurriedly, her eyebrows furrowed. ‘Someone’s watching you. We need to get you to safety.’

Tim’s heart dropped into his feet. He stood up from his seat to focus as he clicked on his mouse, trying to figure out what was happening. Were they onto him? But how? His cameras were the state of the art in tech and none of it should’ve been detectable!

Unless they were all vampires…? Or maybe his hypothesis was wrong and Danny was even worse than a bloodsucking creature.

In the cameras, Danny froze. Then he turned and all three of them looked at the camera that Tim had chosen to watch them, making direct eye contact with Tim behind the screen.

In an instant, Tim self destructed all of his cameras, listening devices and trackers (which honestly hadn’t worked at all since he attached them to various belongings of Danny.)

He was sweating as he erased all of his tracks expertly. When he was done, he cursed. All of his tech was destroyed completely and none of it could be traced back to him, but now he didn’t have a way to observe Danny.

He sighed and drew a hand through his hair. He picked up his phone and gave a call.

“Hey, Steph? Can you find a way for me to get into Gotham University right now?”

[eatfishies]

your touch sets me ablaze | 🔞

summary: Rafayel is determined to make all your worries go away.

or

Rafayel giving his "Miss Bodyguard" the time of her life.

word count: 3.5k words tags: NSFW, rafayel x reader (afab), porn without plot, oral sex (cunnilingus), clit play, swearing, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, squirting and vaginal ejaculation, exhibitionism, overstimulation, public sex (or semi..? idk), pet names, breeding kink, creampie, established relationship fish notes: rafa fingers owo .. that’s it . i jus have an obsession w his pretty fingers ok . hehe hope all of u enjoy <3 ── ao3 link ★ ˙ ̟ | my twt !

The long-awaited day of Rafayel’s exhibition is finally here. She smoothed out her dress, ensuring that there is no speck of dust or any creases. The dress hugged her curves like second skin, a dark blue shade that matches the ocean — she heard it faintly as she fixed herself on the mirror. The tidal waves swished around with fluidity as the birds chirped merrily, giving her a sense of peace despite the gnawing anxiety bubbling up inside her. She sighed, biting her lip as she mulled over her thoughts when the door opened, revealing Rafayel. 

Dressed in a white buttoned shirt, paired with a dark blue suit jacket and black tailored slacks. He looked mesmerizing as he always does whenever she sees him. Many people claim that Rafayel’s paintings are beautiful, each brushstroke has its own story and together, mixed with the soft colors is enough to draw someone in. It was easy to get lost in his artworks hence why his buyers are eager to get their hands on the latest pieces of his art. Every art dealer was entranced by the beauty of it. One could say, if you gaze at his painting, the sight of it could linger in your mind even as you slumber, dancing around and luring you into the depths of the ocean.

He smiled at her, his eyes roaming over her figure appreciatively, “Hey cutie, looking good there.” He walked towards her, placing his hands on her hips, “Why the long face…? It’s my exhibition, not yours.” She knows he was just teasing, trying to quell her dwelling thoughts but she can only give him a faint smile.

“I know that… I just…” She sighed, unsure of how to properly form her sentence. Her mind is constantly racing, overlapping each fleeting thought. “I’ve just been… overthinking about all sorts of things, I suppose. Maybe it’s just the stress of everything…” She trailed off, her gaze drifting to the side.

The Lemurian hummed, studying his lover’s face with deep concentration, “Well, we still have some time left to kill. Do you wanna do something to take your mind off things?” His hands cupped her face gently, making her stare at his handsome face. 

“Uh… I’m not sure.” She responded, still preoccupied with her troubles. 

Rafayel’s hands fall to the side before grabbing her wrist and leading her out of the bedroom and into the center of the studio. He gently pushed her down to the couch, “Stay here.” He said before stalking off to grab something from the desk. She could only watch with curiosity, wondering what Rafayel had planned to distract her. 

When he came back, he was holding a box of Pile It Up. She couldn’t help but smile, already feeling a surge of competitive spirit bubbling inside her. “Oh, you’re so on!” She grinned at him.

And yet, after a few minutes of playing, she felt the same thoughts resurfacing. Rafayel didn’t need to be told twice to know that his partner is deep in her worries, he could see the frown etched on her features or the way she subtly tapped her fingers repeatedly against the block. 

He sighed, standing up and taking a seat next to her, “I hate seeing you like this.” He paused, searching her face before caressing her cheek tenderly, “We don’t need to talk about it but I wished I could take all your troubles away. It makes me sad to see you look so blue.” 

A small hint of guilt crept up, she forced herself to hold Rafayel’s gaze. “I’ll be fine, really. Just… stress, the usual.” She spoke tiredly, relishing the feeling of his hand on her cheek. 

Suddenly, an idea popped up inside the painter’s head. “Then… let me put your mind at ease, yeah?” But before she could inquire, the Lemurian pulled her into a soft kiss, effectively drowning out any single thought she had previously. Their lips moved languidly in a passionate yet loving kiss. His hands slid down to feel her curves, swallowing her needy whimpers as his fingers hiked the hem of the dress up, exposing more of her skin. 

He gently laid her down and pulled away, hovering above her, admiring the way her lips are now swollen and glistened with his saliva. No doubt that the lipstick has smeared onto his mouth as well but he couldn’t care less, slowly inching closer to her most intimate place. She bit her lip, growing impatient at his deliberate and sensual movements but the words of protest died in her throat when Rafayel finally touched her clit, feeling the wet patch growing as he kept stroking her.

“You’re already so wet for me… you sure are eager, aren’t you?” He smirked as she gripped his arms and bucked her hips. “Come on, let me hear your pretty sounds, cutie.” He purred, effortlessly pulling her panties to the side and rubbing her slick folds. A string of moans and whimpers fell from her lips as Rafayel continued to touch her, staring intently as her expressions contorted to one of pleasure. The worry lines on her face, the frown and the anxiousness emitting off of her earlier are all gone, replaced by fervent lust and desire. 

With a swift motion, Rafayel plunged two fingers deep inside her wet pussy. Her velvet walls clamping down tightly as he curled his digits, “Ha…! F- fuck! Raf…” She moaned out, it was the sound that he could never get tired of hearing. Her body writhed beneath her lover’s skilful ministrations. 

“That’s it… keep feeling good around my fingers. You’re doing so well for me, baby.” He uttered sultry and low, pressing kisses on her neck before biting onto the flesh. He knew that once she was clear-headed, she would scold him for leaving a mark, especially when they were both due to attend his exhibition later. But Rafayel couldn’t care less, he was addicted to her scent, her taste, her sounds and everything about her makes him want to lose himself completely, surrendering himself to the woman he holds dear to. 

The heat in her stomach coiled, the tell-tale signs of her climax approaching her as Rafayel fingers her faster and deeper, noticing the pitch of her moans getting louder. Her wet cunt squelched obscenely around his long digits as he worked to bring her close to her release. He licked her earlobe and nipped at it, “Be a good girl and come all over my fingers. Come on, you can do it, can’t you?” 

Spurred by Rafayel’s encouragement, she squeezed her eyes shut as her pussy clenched tightly around his plunging fingers. “I’m… I’m close! I’m gonna come!” She cried out, her cunt clamping down on his digits as she came hard, pussy juice gushing out and all over his hand and wrist. 

“Good girl. You did so great, my little conch.” He pulled his soaked fingers out and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Rafayel felt a swell of pride at seeing the state of his lover like this, she’s no longer concerned with troubling thoughts or anxieties. Only a look of pure bliss. 

He brought his fingers up to his mouth and licked them clean, savoring the taste of her. “You taste divine, my love.” A blush spread through her cheeks as she stared at the sight of Rafayel delightfully tasting her essence. 

“But… I’m not done yet. Not even close.” His voice drops an octave lower as he spread her legs wide and tugged her damp panties off, tossing them on the floor. Her cunt fluttered around nothing, dripping with slick from her orgasm earlier. “I can’t wait to devour you.” And with that, he leaned in and lapped her pussy tentatively, keeping his gaze fixed on her face as her fingers tangled in his purple hair, gripping it. 

Debauched cries and moans bounced off the walls along with the erotic sounds of Rafayel eating her cunt out with vigor, like a man starved. “F- feels so good!” She whimpered as the Lemurian held her thighs, spreading them wider, giving him more access to her sopping core. 

Unable to resist, Rafayel delved in deeper, sealing his lips around her clit and suckling the sensitive nub. He flicked his tongue faster, determined to bring his dear bodyguard to her peak once more. The needy sounds spilling from her lips were like music to his ears, urging him on, to give her the pleasure that she so desperately sought. 

“D- don’t stop, Raf! Please!” Her hips bucked wantonly as she ground her slick cunt against his mouth. Rafayel smirked in response, letting her tug on his hair fiercely as he thrust his tongue deep inside her clutching heat, fucking her with his mouth, feeling incredibly turned on and eager to watch her fall apart beneath him. 

He could feel her juices flooding his mouth, could taste her arousal coating his tongue. Rafayel could go on for days burying his head in between her legs, couldn’t ever get enough of her sweet essence. “Come for me. Come on my tongue like the good girl that you are.” He spurred, the words vibrating against her sensitive flesh. 

The all-too familiar sensation coursed through her body as she moaned out, “I’m gonna come! Raf, I’m gonna come!” At that, Rafayel vigorously sucked hard on her clit, feeling her walls starting to flutter and clench around his plunging tongue. He could feel the heat of her core climbing, threatening to spill once more. The Lemurian easily slipped in two fingers, knuckle-deep into her dripping cunt. He pumped them in and out, curling them just so to hit that spot that made his lover writhe in utter bliss. 

It was too much, the stimulation was overbearing as her body tensed, her thighs clamped around his head as she teetered on the brink. Rafayel gripped her hips tighter, holding her in place as he ate them out with wild, desperate abandon. 

“Rafayel!” She cried out, arching off of the couch as her orgasm crashed over her for the second time. The painter moaned as he felt the flood of arousal coating his tongue and chin, lapping it up greedily as she shuddered and quaked beneath him. He could feel the way her walls gripped his fingers, sucking in and reluctant to let go, milking his hand for all it was worth. 

“P- please… too much…” She whined, riding out the intense wave of her climax. Rafayel gave her dripping wet pussy one last lick before pulling back slightly to catch his breath. “I could just drown in your taste for the rest of my life.” He spoke breathlessly, slowly withdrawing his fingers and bringing them up to his mouth to lick them clean, just like he did earlier.  

Just as Rafayel was about to lean down and kiss her, the unmistakable sound of his ringtone snapped both of their attention. Rafayel stared down at her, a look of surprise on his face, “Let me get it.” He stood up and walked over to the desk, grabbing his phone. Frowning, he reads the message and pockets it away, looking back at her with a sigh. “It’s Thomas. Says we need to be at the exhibition in 20 minutes.” 

A small part of her felt disappointed at the fact that they would need to go out soon but she wasn’t just the only one whos’ feeling it. Rafayel gazed at her with a slight pout, he had hoped to fuck her silly before they were called to the gallery. But alas, duties calls and if they stalled any longer, Thomas would suspect something was up, even though Rafayel is known for arriving late to his exhibitions or not even appearing at all. 

“Should we just ditch this and not go?” He said exasperatedly, crossing his arms in annoyance. She smiled softly at him, sitting up straight and pulling her dress down, still panty-less underneath. She could feel her own slick running down her inner thighs, a faint blush spread through her cheeks as she briefly recalled the way Rafayel had brought her to climax twice. 

However, her gaze lowered to the sight of Rafayel’s painfully hard and obvious bulge, straining against his pants. Biting her lips, she quickly squashed down any lewd thoughts, refraining from losing her focus by daydreaming about sinking her tight wet cavern onto Rafayel’s thick cock. No, she needs to get it together and actually drag her Lemurian lover to the gallery, lest they face the wrath of Thomas. 

With a reluctant smile, she stood up and bent down to pick up her panties, slipping them on. “I guess it’s time to go. Come on, you pouty baby.” She pinched his cheek, earning a glare from her lover but it lacked no malice, instead filled with tenderness and love. Rafayel sighed dramatically, intertwining their fingers together, “Fine, fiiiiinee.” 

As they began to walk towards the front door, she paused, “Ah wait, I need to grab something.” But Rafayel wouldn’t budge, clasping her hand tightly as he stared ahead. He leaned in and whispered hotly in her ears, “Just keep your panties on. Don’t think this is over just because we’re going somewhere.” Heat rises up to her cheeks at the suggestive implication, was Rafayel planning something? It was a risky move, she knew she should go and grab the short pants to wear beneath her dress but Rafayel only gripped his hold on her, sensing the slight confusion. “Trust me, cutie. I know a way to make the exhibition waaaay more entertaining.” 

Alas, she gave in and nodded, “No funny stuff, alright!” She warned but Rafayel only smiled cheekily at her in response. “I’ll be a good boy and behave, dontcha’ worry, my darling.” He gave her a wink, a silent promise to be on his best behavior, yet there’s a hint of mischief in his eyes.

‧───────────────‧

The gallery was filled and buzzing with prestigious art dealers and other VIP guests, mingling around and admiring the exquisite artworks that were displayed on the walls. She stood to the side, a glass of champagne in her hand as she glanced at Rafayel who is, no doubt, forced to converse with the guests by Thomas. She hummed, taking in the scene before her, it was clear that Rafayel has always been popular but to witness it entirely was a different feeling. It warms her heart knowing that Rafayel is loved and cherished by many people here – a respected artist in his own field, earning awe-struck stares and quiet excited cheers. 

She took a sip of her drink, enjoying her solitude when Rafayel sauntered over to her. “How is my princess doing?” He smirked, standing next to her, his gaze briefly flickering down to the hem of her dress. She could tell a thing or two about what he’s thinking, all of the thoughts are most likely inappropriate. “I’m doing okay.” She replied casually, “Shouldn’t you be talking to your esteemed guests? Wouldn’t want Thomas to come hurling complaints again, hm?” 

At the mention of Thomas’s complaints, Rafayel grimaced and looked away, “Puh-lease, I’m his boss here, not him. He can’t control me, no matter how much he wants to.” His hand found their way on her hips, pulling her close. “Besides, I’m bored. Let’s go somewhere private, yeah?” Before she could voice out her objections, Rafayel immediately dragged her to the quieter, lonely 

 side of the gallery. There were no artworks framed on the walls nor are there any people here to disturb the couple. “Raf honey… are you sure we're allowed here? Isn’t this section of the gallery closed off?” Her voice tinged with uncertainty and maybe a little bit of unease at the blank and empty part of the gallery. 

“It’s fine, no one ever comes home.” He reassured her, letting go of his hand and cupping her face, “Now, it’s just the two of us here.” Rafayel captured her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all of his pent-up desire from before into it. She could taste the remnants of her pussy juice, rendering her completely into a puddle of mess as Rafayel’s fingers trailed down and slipped underneath her dress with ease. She whimpered against his lips as Rafayel rubbed her clit through her damp panties, soaked from the pleasure she received back in the comfort of his home. 

“R- raf… ah! Mhmm… we- we can’t” She murmured helplessly as Rafayel began to nip at her neck, licking the hickey he left there. It had bloomed beautifully, his mark on hers – a sign to everyone that she was his. Only his. 

Of course, she hadn’t been a fool, she did try to cover up the hickey before they stepped into the exhibition but Rafayel wouldn’t stop pestering her and telling her to just leave it be. In the end, she caved in and proudly showed off the mark, albeit with much reluctance and embarrassment. Rafayel rasped, “Need you… need you here, right now.” 

Swiftly, Rafayel tugged her panties aside and unzipped his pants, freeing his throbbing cock from the confines of his pants. He pressed her against the wall, her back facing him, “N- now?!” She sputtered but Rafayel was already stroking his aching shaft on her sopping wet mound. 

He lined himself up, the broad head of his cock nudging insistently at her entrance. Rafayel wanted nothing more than to slam inside, to consume her entirely, his body blazing with need but he knew she was still sensitive from the overstimulation. “Keep quiet, okay?” He whispered hotly before thrusting deep inside her slick walls, burying himself to the hilt, feeling it tighten. 

“You feel so fucking good.” He gripped her hips, staring intently at his lover, biting her lips to stifle the moans and cries of pleasure. Without wasting any time, Rafayel set a brutal pace, hips snapping forward as he fucked into her dripping cunt with deep, powerful strokes. Anyone could walk in on them, going at it like rabbits in heat but all caution and care was thrown out of the window. Rafayel could only feel her wet, clasping heat, determined to bring her to the edge and make her feel good. There was no denying the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, if a guard were to catch them, they would no doubt be in trouble.

Then again, the risk is what makes it exciting. Rafayel groaned softly, nuzzling into her neck as she held back her cries of ecstasy, the familiar coppery tang of her blood sinking into her tongue from biting her lips too hard. Rafayel’s hands slid up to cup and knead her breasts through her dress as he pounded into her. The sensation was too much, her brain was all mushy as her pussy fluttered around him, sucking him in deeper, wanting more. 

Her hands pathetically scrambled to hold onto the wall, squeezing her eyes shut as she desperately tries to not let a single sound fall off of her lips. Rafayel’s voice was low, “You're clenching me so tightly baby. Ha… what a dirty girl, taking my cock like this out in the open. You love this, don’t you?” 

A whimper escaped from her throat as Rafayel slammed his hips forward fast and deep into her dripping, clinging heat. He noticed the way her breath quickened, her face etched in a fucked-out expression, losing herself to the overwhelming pleasure. Her pussy clenching around him, velvet walls fluttering wildly as he drove her closer to the edge. 

Rafayel withdrew from fondling her breasts and gripped her face, turning her towards him as his lips met hers in a messy, desperate kiss, all tongue and teeth as he fucked her towards her release. “Come for me, you can do it. Come one more time for me on my cock.” He murmured against her lips, feeling his orgasm nearing.

He felt her body stiffened, coming undone as he drowned out all her cries with a wet, sensual kiss. Rafayel grunted, his hips stuttering and with one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside her soaked cunt. His cock jerked and pulsed as he pumped her full with his seed. Rafayel pulled away and panted, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, a sheen of sweat trickling down from their coupling. He gazed at her with adoring eyes, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before he reluctantly pulled out of her cum-filled cunt. Rafayel tugged the panties to the center of her clit, covering her as she caught her breath. 

Wordlessly, Rafayel scooped her into his arms around her, letting her rest her head against his chest. Her eyes shut closed, her mind dancing around cloud nine from the intensity of it all.  

“Let’s go home, my love.” He said softly as he made his way towards the exit, ignoring the curious stares and ogles from the people in the exhibition. When Thomas tried to question him, Rafayel dismissed him and continued to walk to his car, gently putting her down onto the passenger seat.

Once they were home, Rafayel put on a bath and scrubbed her clean with much affection. Afterwards, he prepared dinner and cuddled her, staring down at her peaceful expression as she slumber. 

“I love you, my treasure.” He spoke quietly, kissing her forehead before falling asleep with his lover in his arms. 

[thoughtdaughtersworld]

Silent Lullabies Pt 2.

Azriel X f!reader

Summary: Y/n grapples with overwhelming grief and emotional turmoil.

TW!!: miscarriage, suicidal thoughts, emotional turmoil

Pls don't read if these things trigger you. Thank you guys for reading!!

*******************************************************

Azriel’s heart sinks as he realizes what’s happening. “No, no,” he whispers, his voice breaking. The shadows around him swirl in panic, mirroring the storm raging inside him.

"Rhys," Azriel says desperately, dropping his mental shields, his voice frantic and uneven. "Get Madja. Now. Something’s wrong with Y/N."

"On it," Rhys replies immediately, his tone sharp and firm. But it offers little comfort as Azriel turns his gaze back to you.

“We need to get you to Madja,” he says urgently, his hand moving to your stomach again, fear tightening his grip.

Without hesitation, Azriel lifts you into his arms and takes off, running as fast as he can toward the House of Wind. The wind whipping through his hair and stinging his eyes, but his only focus was on you.The way your body trembled, the way your breath was too shallow, too weak. You were in a state of shock, your mind reeling in denial and confusion..

By the time he reached the House of wind, Madja was already waiting, Rhys and Cassian close behind, their worry palpable.

“What’s happening?” Rhys demands, his eyes darting between you and Azriel.

 “She’s in pain. There was blood. She just-” He exhales sharply, trying to steady himself, but the terror gripping his chest makes it near impossible.

Madja wastes no time. “Put her down. Now.” Her sharp gaze sweeps over you before she turns to the others. "I need everyone out. Except Azriel”.

Azriel gently lays you on the bed, brushing damp hair from your face. His touch is tender, his hands trembling slightly as he grips yours. “I’m here, love,” he murmurs, his voice soft yet resolute. “You’re not alone.”

Madja crouches beside you, her experienced hands moving quickly over your body, assessing, analyzing. Then she looks up, her face grave.

“You’re in early labor, Y/N,” she says, her voice urgent. “And you need to start pushing. Now.”

The words crash over you like a tidal wave. Your chest tightens, panic flaring in your veins.

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head, denial wrapping around you like a vice. Your body feels too weak, too broken. “I-I can’t.”

Azriel’s grip on your hand tightens. “You can,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “You have to. You’re stronger than you know.”

Tears spill freely down your cheeks as you shake your head. “It hurts..I can’t-”

Azriel leans closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. “I know, love,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “I know. But you have to push.”

A sob rips through you, but you nod weakly, drawing in a ragged breath before forcing all your strength into one final push.

And then relief. But the room was silent.

You wait, gasping, heart pounding, but the sound that should follow—the sound of your baby’s first cry never comes.

Madja doesn’t speak right away, her focus entirely on the unmoving infant in her hands. She taps his back, firm but gentle. Nothing.

“No,” you whisper, your vision blurring with fresh tears. “No, no—”

Azriel is frozen beside you, his entire body rigid with shock. The shadows around him stutter, unsure, lost.

Madja tries again, rubbing the baby’s back, willing him to move, to breathe, to live.

But the silence is deafening.

Finally, she looks up, her expression something you don’t want to name. Something you refuse to accept.

She doesn’t have to say anything. You know.

A strangled sob tears from your throat as you reach for him. “My baby.”

Madja hesitates only a moment before gently placing him in your arms. His tiny body is still warm, impossibly small against your chest. You cradle him, a raw, guttural wail escaping you.

Azriel wraps himself around you, his arms holding you together even as you shatter completely. His own tears fall freely now, his breath uneven, his hands trembling as he presses his forehead to yours.

“Azriel,” you sob, your voice desperate, broken. “Help. Please.”

He holds you tighter, his whole body shaking, his wings curling protectively around you as if he can somehow shield you from the unbearable weight of this loss.

Madja steps forward, hesitant. “Y/N…” she says softly, her voice thick with sorrow. “You have to let go.”

But you can’t.

You clutch your baby closer, pressing gentle kisses to his forehead, willing him to wake up, to cry, to do something. But there’s only silence. Only stillness.

Azriel's grip on you tightens, his heart breaking as he watches you unravel. He doesn’t tell you to let go. He doesn’t rush you. He just holds you through it, taking your pain into himself, as if by sheer will alone, he can carry it for you.

But when your arms finally loosen, when the last of your strength ebbs away, Madja gently takes the baby from you.

And the moment his small weight leaves your arms, you collapse against Azriel, your entire body shaking with grief so consuming it feels like drowning.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice raw and broken. “I’m here, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere.”

Madja steps back, giving you both space to grieve.

The silence that followed was unbearable, broken only by the sound of your quiet sobs and Azriel’s whispered reassurances as the world seemed to crumble around you.

*******************************************************The next day, you wake up with a heavy heart, the pain so overwhelming that you had passed out. You find yourself staring at the ceiling, a strange numbness settling over you like a suffocating fog. Your eyes wander the room until they land on Azriel, asleep in the chair, his face contorted with worry even in his dreams. His brows are furrowed, a sight you were always so used to smoothing away with a gentle touch.

You lay there in bed, the weight of your loss pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe. All you wanted in that moment was to hold your son, to feel his warmth in your arms, to hear his tiny cries filling the silence that now seemed unbearable.

Slowly, you push yourself up, careful not to wake Azriel, and make your way to the windowsill. Fresh tears spill down your face as you climb onto it, the cool night air biting at your skin. The city stretches out before you, but it feels so distant. The thought of ending it all whispers through your mind, soft and enticing. It would be so simple, so painless. Just an escape from this unrelenting agony.

You close your eyes, letting the wind whip against your face, and for a fleeting moment, the idea feels like a release.

"Y/N?"

Your eyes flutter open, and you turn to see Azriel standing there, his body tense, his golden eyes wide with fear. He’s careful as he takes a step forward, his hand reaching out as if afraid you’ll slip through his fingers.

Azriel could never put into words the terror that gripped him in that moment. Waking up to his shadows in a frenzy, only to see you perched on the edge, it was a sight he knew would haunt him forever.

His voice is rough with desperation. “What are you doing?”

Tears stream freely down your face as you whisper his name, your voice hoarse, broken. “Azriel… I should have died instead of him. I—I can’t live without my baby.”

Azriel feels something inside him shatter at your words. The raw, aching agony in your voice slices through him like a blade, leaving him bleeding and helpless. He has faced war, endured centuries of pain, but nothing, nothing could compare to the feeling of watching the person he loves teetering on the edge of despair.

Azriel’s breath shudders as he takes another slow step forward, his hands trembling at his sides. His wings twitch as if ready to propel him forward at the slightest sign that you might fall. His voice, usually so controlled, is laced with pure, unfiltered desperation.

“Please,” he whispers. “Come down, love. Just—just take my hand.”

You shake your head, your entire body wracked with silent sobs. “How can you even look at me? You should despise me, he was meant to be alive” you croak, your voice barely audible over the wind. “We had all those plans for our family. And now—” Your voice cracks, and you let out a choked sob. “Now there's nothing.”

“There is something,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “There’s me.”

Your eyes snap to his, and for the first time, he sees the true depth of your pain. It’s a black hole, swallowing everything in its path, pulling you further and further away from him.

Azriel takes another step forward, so close now that he could touch you if he reached out. “I know it hurts,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. “I know this pain feels like it’ll never leave. But if you go,if you let this grief take you…I’ll lose you too.”

He shakes his head, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. “And I can’t, Y/N. I won’t survive that. I need you.”

Tears stream down your face as you stare at him, at the way his body trembles with the effort of holding himself together. Your lips part, but no words come.

Azriel moves then, ever so slowly, reaching out his scarred hand. “Take my hand,” he pleads, his voice raw. “Please, love. Let me hold you.”

For a long, agonizing moment, you don’t move. Then, with a broken sob, you let go..not of life, but of the ledge.

Azriel moves faster than a breath, his arms locking around you, pulling you off the windowsill and against his chest. He stumbles back onto the floor with you in his grasp, his wings flaring to keep his balance.

And then you’re both on the ground, tangled together, his arms wrapped so tightly around you that it’s as if he’s trying to hold you together with his own strength.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers into your hair, rocking you gently as you sob into his chest. “I’ve got you, and I’m never letting go.”

You clutch onto him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to this world. And maybe, just maybe, he is.

The next day, a soft knock echoes through your room. You don’t respond. The door creaks open, and you hear the quiet footsteps of Rhys and Feyre entering. You don’t look at them. Your gaze stays fixed on the ceiling, the emptiness in your chest mirrored by the blankness of your stare.

“How are you feeling?” Feyre’s voice is gentle, barely above a whisper, as though she’s afraid to break the fragile silence.

You don’t answer immediately, your throat dry, your heart heavy. Finally, your voice comes, flat and devoid of emotion. “Like my son just died.”

The words hang in the air, sharp and jagged. Feyre flinches at the raw honesty, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Normally, you might have softened your response, tried to cushion the blow. But today? Today, you didn’t care. Today, you had a pass.

Rhys shifts uncomfortably, his usual confidence gone. He stands quietly, his hands in his pockets, his jaw tight as if he’s holding back his emotions at seeing you so broken.

Feyre takes a step closer, her face filled with anguish, but she doesn’t push. She doesn’t tell you it will be okay. She doesn’t try to offer empty platitudes. Instead, she kneels by your bedside, her hand resting lightly on yours.

“We’re here,” she says softly, her voice breaking just enough to reveal her pain. “For whatever you need. Whenever you’re ready.”

You don’t respond. You can’t. 

After a long, heavy silence, they seem to understand that words won’t reach you right now. They exchange a quiet glance with azriel before leaving to attend to court matters, Not long after, Azriel approaches you. His presence is familiar, grounding in a way that should comfort you, but it only makes the ache in your chest deepen.

“Do you want something to eat?” he asks gently.

You shake your head.

“Love, you have to eat something,” he presses, his voice thick with concern. “You haven’t had anything since…” His voice trails off, as if saying the words will make them more real.

You finally turn your head to look at him. He looks exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, his usually sharp features dulled by grief and sleepless nights. The sight makes your heart clench with guilt. He was breaking too.

“Soup,” you whisper.

Instantly, the House prepares it, a warm bowl appearing on the nightstand. Without hesitation, Azriel takes it and settles beside you, spoon in hand. He feeds you in quiet patience, his free hand brushing against yours between bites, as if reassuring himself that you’re still here.

When you’re finally full, you murmur, “You should get some sleep, Az.”

His brows furrow. “I’m fine.”

“You’ve been up here with me this whole time.” Your voice is weak, but insistent. “You need to eat too.”

Azriel exhales, his jaw tightening like he wants to argue, but the exhaustion weighing down his body betrays him. He reaches for your hand, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. “I’ll eat,” he promises softly. “But I’m not leaving you.”

A week had passed, but nothing had really changed. The pain hadn’t dulled, and neither had the emptiness inside of you. It felt like the world was moving on, but you were stuck, frozen in time, haunted by the grief that weighed down your every step.

You had lost weight. The energy it took to even get out of bed some mornings was overwhelming. Most days, you were distant, a part of you dissociating from the reality around you. It was like you were watching everything from behind glass, everyone’s worried faces, their desperate attempts to help, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything but the void that was slowly swallowing you.

There were days when you couldn’t even look at Azriel. When his eyes would meet yours, you’d look away, guilt gnawing at your insides. You didn’t deserve his love, his devotion. Not when you had failed him in the most unimaginable way. He deserved happiness, and you had robbed him of it.

Azriel noticed. Of course, he noticed. He was always there, sitting by your side, his presence unwavering, but even he couldn’t reach you anymore. The words he whispered to you, the soft touch of his hand, they didn’t seem to matter. His eyes, once filled with love, now carried a sorrow of their own. 

He had tried to coax you out of the silence, to talk, to share your pain, but you wouldn’t let him in. It was like there was a barrier you had built, an impenetrable wall that refused to break. He didn’t know what to do anymore.

******************************************************

Azriel quietly slipped out of the room, careful not to disturb you. You had finally fallen into a restless sleep, though he knew it would be a long while before the weight of grief would allow you the peace of a true rest. His heart ached as he watched you, wishing there was more he could do to take the pain away. But for now, all he could do was give you space, even if it felt like everything was falling apart around him.

He made his way downstairs to the kitchen, his steps heavy, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders. The hunger gnawing at his stomach barely registered, his appetite long gone in the wake of everything that had happened. But he knew he needed to eat, if only to keep himself moving, keep himself strong. Even though he could barely muster the energy to lift a fork, he forced himself to sit down and try.

As he stared at the food in front of him, Cassian walked in, his usual energetic presence subdued. The concern in his eyes was impossible to miss as he took a seat across from Azriel.

"You okay, brother?" Cassian asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

Azriel looks up, his eyes heavy with exhaustion, though he hides it behind a mask. He offers a small, tight-lipped smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m fine.”

Cassian doesn’t buy it, of course. He studies his brother’s face, sensing the unspoken pain and the weight Azriel is carrying. “You’ve been up there all day with her. How is she really doing?”

Azriel’s gaze drifts down to the empty plate in front of him. His fingers absently trace the edges of the porcelain. “"I don't know," he admits quietly, the words more fragile than he intended. “I feel like I’m failing her," he says, his voice barely audible. "She’s hurting, and I can’t fix it. I can’t fix this... any of this."”

Cassian’s expression softens.. "You’re not failing her. You’re with her, Az. That’s what matters. She needs you here, now. And when she’s ready, you’ll be there to help her heal. But you’ve got to take care of yourself too."

Azriel’s jaw tightens. He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “I just feel like I’m losing her Cass,”he finally admits, the words slipping out before he can stop them. “I don’t know how to help her through this. And it scares me.”

“I know you can’t. But sometimes... just being with someone is enough. That's all you can do right now.” Cassian’s voice is quiet but firm, understanding the depth of Azriel’s emotions. “You’re not alone in this, you know. We’re all here for you both.”

Azriel nods, but the words feel hollow, unable to fill the ache in his chest. He leans back in his chair, the silence between them heavy. He knew Cassian was right, but letting himself rest felt like a luxury he couldn’t afford..not right now.

[saturnscafe]

I’m desperate to know about “big bad wolfs” first rut plz ill beg 🙏🏾

I’m here to please lol.

͙˚ ༘✶Big Bad Wolfs First Rut

Smut Below

He was avoiding you, he wasn’t responding to texts or calls. He wasn’t showing up for classes either. You were starting to think he just dipped and dropped out or something.

You stood at his door knocking before you heard rummaging behind the door. When he opened it he looked almost worn out. His face was a bit red, hair sticking to his forehead. No shirt on just bare in his boxers. “What are you doing here?” He asked his voice thick.

“I was worried about you” you said meekly.

His face softened realizing how he must have made you feel. “I’m sorry beautiful, I’m-“ he said exhaling loudly. “I’m in a rut and I don’t wanna hurt you” he admitted.

You remember learning about heats and ruts before, you knew he had to have been hurting.

“Let me help you” the words blurting out.

He cocked his head to the side, studying your face. “Y/n- I don’t think that’s” he started to say before you cut him off.

“I trust you, plus” you said before moving closer to him “I think it’ll be kinda hot” you said that smirk making him groan.

When you were finally inside he cupped your face staring into your eyes. “If at anytime you need to stop. Tell me got it?” He said sternly. You nodded and with that he leaned in kissing you hungrily. His hands gripped at your thighs and ass as his tongue prodded at your mouth.

He started walking you backwards body hitting against the couch you could feel a grin creep across his face. He swiftly turned your body bending you over it. Before you knew it he had your pants and panties off. His head pressed between your legs. His arms hooked around your legs pulling your body down on him. He had your cunt pressed so nicely against his mouth. His tongue lapped at your folds, groaning loudly.

His cock was peeking from his boxers dripping pre cum. His hips moved on their own moving upwards trying to create some friction. He was eating you out like a man in death row and you were his last meal. His tongue found its way into your sopping cunt, moving erratically. Your hands gripped at the gripped at the couch trying to keep yourself ground but to no avail. He was driving you closer and closer to your first orgasm cumming hard around his tongue. He licked you clean nipping at your inner thighs. He wanted to keep going. Wanted to draw another or two from you but he needed inside of you.

He stood up licking his lips as he rid himself of his boxers. His body pressed against you before kissing your shoulder. “I love you” he said against your ear before pushing into your warm cunt. The moans that left both of your mouths was almost pornographic. His big muscles arm wrapped around your waist before he started moving. He wanted to go slower for your sake but he couldn’t help himself. His hips snapped back in and out of you as his leaking tip kissed your cervix.

“Fuck- ah- y/n I love you. You’re my beautiful mate- can’t get enough-“ he groaned into your neck.

“God- you feel somehow even bigger” you moaned out.

You were already seeing stars another orgasm growing close. “Gonna cum again already? Seems like you wanted this just as much as I did” he smirked.

“Fuck who wouldn’t want- want their hot mate to fuck them like this-“ you babbled but those words. You calling him your mate. It almost made him cum then and there. Sure you guys have been dating and you call him your boyfriend but you’ve never used the word mate. It ignited something primal in him.

He growled against your skin “say that again” he demanded. His thrusts becoming faster, harder- deeper. Your mind almost went blank before he nipped at your neck, his hand finding its way to your face. He turned it making you look directly at him “say it.”

“My mate” you choked out. You swear his eyes almost went black at the sound. His grip around your waist tightened, the couch slightly moving from how he was pounding into you. “Yeah I’m your mate. No one else can have you. Your mine. Mine.” He kept repeating like it was the only word he knew. His hand left your face bringing it down to your ass before smacking it hard. You moaned loudly at the slight sting. His nails gripped into your hips as he let out a long low groan.

“Who do you belong to? Huh.” He growled.

“You! Only you!” You almost screamed your orgasms ready to flow over.

“That’s right. Me. No one else’s. Me and only me.”

He pulled out before pushing into you with a powerful thrust. Your orgasm toppling over you, it was intense making your body shake. “Gonna take my knot- fuck gonna give me a litter yeah? You want that? To be stuffed full of all of me-“ he was babbling at this point but you didn’t care.

“Yes- fuck yes please- please want all my mates pups” you said incoherently.

He let out a loud growl before sinking his teeth deep into your shoulder. He pulled out one last time before pushing back in hard. You felt his knot push in with almost ease at this point stuffing you full. You could feel him twitching inside you as his hot cum painted your walls.

He was panting, you were panting. No one spoke for a few moments before he kissed your back softly. “I love you, you know that right?” He said sweetly.

“And I love you” you responded.

The rest of the night was filled- or you were. With him fucking you in every room of his apartment on any surface that he could. You gave him a run for his money though, being just as greedy for him as he was for you.

[steddieas-shegoes]

you and all of your new perspective

for @steddiesongfics using 'new perspective' by noah kahan

also on ao3

rated m | 3,513 words | no cw | tags: rock star eddie munson, good uncle wayne munson, mutual pining, yearning, post-vecna, love confessions, idiots in love, first kiss, implied sexual content, getting together

🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻

He’s looking down at the letter and wondering how the hell he’s supposed to be normal about Eddie visiting him.

In Hawkins.

Where Eddie swore he’d never come back to the moment he got his ticket out of here.

“Starin’ at it ain’t gonna make him not come,” Wayne says from across the counter. “Surprised he didn’t call ya to tell ya.”

“He…he left a few messages,” Steve explains, setting the letter down and resting his face in his hands. “I just figured he wouldn’t come if I didn’t call him back.”

Wayne raises a brow, gives him a look that Steve’s perfectly familiar with by now. Four years of weekly dinners with a man that’s well aware of your feelings for his nephew leads to some knowing looks and light teasing.

“Only reason he’d ever step foot in this town again is for you and you know that,” Wayne says as he opens another beer. He has three every Friday night, but no longer indulges during the week. Ain’t so young anymore, son, and I gotta stay active to keep up with all your chores, he’d told Steve when he asked. Steve thinks the doctor told him to take it easier. “I don’t think he even told the kids.”

“Don’t see why he would. They’re all over. He’s probably seen them on tour.”

Steve tries not to sound bitter. He woke up in his own bed or whatever the saying is. He can’t blame Eddie for doing exactly what he said he would, following his dreams, getting the hell out of Hawkins the moment he could. The kids did the same, but at least they visited.

“Well, they’ve been houndin’ him to come visit you.”

Steve lifts his head. “They what?”

“They just worry ‘bout ya,” Wayne shrugs. “So do I.”

“I went on a date last week! Robin visited two months ago! I see you every Friday!” Steve stands and starts pacing. “I’m gonna go visit Dustin at school in a month. And Will has his freshman exhibition that we’re all trying to meet up at. It’s not like I’m lonely.”

“Son, I think the only person lonelier than you is Eddie,” Wayne gives him that sad smile he gives whenever they talk about Steve’s social life. It’s like he knows it’s pitiful, and he knows Steve knows it’s pitiful, and he’s making sure Steve knows that he knows. “And he’s stubborn as a mule, but he cares too much about ya to let you suffer.”

“Who said anything about suffering?”

“It’s implied by the way the kids talk about you.”

“How’s that?”

“The word hermit has been used a bunch,” Wayne explains. “Now, I’m gonna finish this beer and you’re gonna stop workin’ yourself up over something that’s still days away.”

Steve rushes over to his calendar, holding up the letter, then checking the calendar.

“He’s gonna be here in three days!” Steve yells. “I can’t be ready by then!”

“What the hell do you need to be ready for? It’s just Eddie,” Wayne is smirking again and Steve’s tired of his teasing, but he’s not gonna say anything because it doesn’t do any good to draw more attention to it. “He ain’t expecting a welcome committee. Maybe a balloon or somethin’; You know he likes the show of it all.”

Steve groans.

He does know. Eddie loves dramatics, that’s what makes him such a good performer on stage. That’s what makes him a great DM.

That’s what made Steve fall in love with him.

“I don’t even know where to get balloons,” Steve says, resting his forehead against the wall.

“The new Wal-Mart should have some,” Wayne pats his shoulder. “We watchin’ the game or standing around havin’ a crisis in your kitchen?”

Steve breathes in. He breathes out.

“I’ll have a crisis tomorrow, I guess.”

“That’s my boy!”

++++

The crisis does come the next day, but this time Wayne isn’t there to make it worse or better. He considers calling Robin, but he knows she’ll just tell him to use his good cologne and try not to be weird. He even thinks about calling Dustin, but immediately shuts that down when he remembers that Dustin is the one who called him a hermit to Eddie’s face.

He finds balloons at the store, and adds streamers to the cart on a whim. He’s sure Eddie will love it. Eddie loves that kind of shit.

He also grabs a pie crust and apples because he remembers Eddie saying how much he loves apple pie with vanilla ice cream one time nearly five years ago.

Okay, maybe it’ll be weird that he remembered that.

He goes to put the apples back when Joyce bumps into him as she’s reaching for a bunch of bananas.

“Sorry honey!” She throws her hands out to catch him, even though she’s the one who almost falls. “I wasn’t paying attention. You doing okay?”

“Yeah, how’re you?” Steve gives her a small smile, trying not to show how panicked he is.

“Sweetie, you look stressed. Is something wrong?”

“No! No, just preparing for a guest,” Steve says, unsure if Eddie’s told anyone else in Hawkins he would be visiting and not wanting to ruin any surprises if he intended on doing that.

He doesn’t even know how long Eddie’s staying; He didn’t say in his letter or voicemails. Wayne hasn’t mentioned it either, which means he probably knows exactly how long he’s staying.

“Oh, is Eddie staying with you?” She asks, brows furrowing. “I assumed he was staying with Wayne. I helped him find an apple pie recipe for his visit.”

Steve looks down at the ingredients in the cart, the evidence of what he’s going to make even more obvious now. Joyce’s gaze follows his and she bites back a knowing smile.

“Ah.”

“Ah?” He asks.

“Uh huh,” she says, nodding. “I would make sure to get the green apples. He likes sour more than sweet when there’s ice cream.”

Steve looks over at the green apples and back at the red apples he was planning on buying. Joyce winks at him before she grabs the bananas and starts to walk away.

“Enjoy the visit!”

Steve doesn’t respond.

He grabs six green apples and shoves them in a plastic produce bag.

He’ll make the damn apple pie and Eddie will love it. Steve will pretend the apple pie isn’t filled with the love he can barely contain for the man, and maybe Eddie will enjoy it and leave as if he never came.

Maybe Steve can make it through this visit with dignity.

****

Eddie shows up at three in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Technically, it’s 3:03, but Steve wasn’t watching the clock or anything. That would be ridiculous.

He looks just like he always did, just like Steve expected. He’s smiling, and playing with the ends of his curls. Steve is never gonna make it through this visit with dignity.

“Stevie!” Eddie rushes in for a hug, and it should be more awkward than it is. Eddie didn’t exactly leave on the best of terms with Steve. They really only spoke a handful of times over the last few years, and most of those were forced by Wayne or Dustin. But it’s like he never left, like he’s been hugging Steve every day for years.

Steve soaks it up, falls into it and doesn’t care how it looks. If Eddie has a problem with it, he doesn’t say so. He holds Steve tighter, his breath warm against his neck.

Eventually, Steve invites him inside and it does start to feel awkward.

Eddie’s a rock star now, and despite how normal he looks, he’s different. He’s here to see Steve, but is he here out of guilt that it took him this long to visit or because he actually wants to?

Steve talks about work, and his dinners with Wayne, and spends more time than he should explaining Robin’s degree program even though he knows Robin already talked to Eddie when she got accepted. He goes on and on about what everyone else is up to because his life is pretty boring in comparison and he doesn’t want to bore Eddie away.

“Sounds like everyone’s doing good, but I already knew that,” Eddie eventually says when Steve’s rambled for much longer than he planned. “How are you?”

“I told you, I’m fine,” Steve says. “Kinda boring around here, honestly. How’s the tour been?”

Eddie laughs and Steve tries not to let it hurt. He doesn’t think he means it in the way Steve’s taking it and that’s a Steve problem, not an Eddie problem.

“I called you 37 times,” Eddie says instead of answering him. “Every city we had a show. The first few I figured you were just busy or asleep. I didn’t think about time zones. But then I started to realize you were avoiding me.”

He isn’t mad, or at least he doesn’t look mad, but Steve feels like he needs to apologize anyway.

“Yeah, sorry. After a while, it kinda…”

“Seemed worse to call since it was so long?” Eddie asks, small smile falling from his face when Steve nods. “It’s never a bad thing to hear from friends, though. You could’ve called the bus phone anytime. Left a message. We got an answering machine because Gareth’s mom always calls when we’re on stage.”

“Right. Good to know,” Steve says. Which, it is good to know, but he doesn’t plan on calling unless there’s an emergency. He can’t look as desperate as he feels and if he calls once, he’ll call twice, and then a hundred times. “What city was your favorite so far?”

Eddie tilts his head, looks him over for a moment before responding. “I liked Boston. All the kids were front row. Except El, she somehow got backstage. Still not sure how. Missed you, though.”

Steve feels his face heat up at the words. Eddie always said things in a flirty way, even though he doesn’t really mean it that way. Steve can’t let himself think that he means it that way.

“It’s a pretty big trip, so. I couldn’t miss work.”

It’s a shit excuse because he absolutely could miss work. It’s a grocery store in a small town, and he doesn’t care that much about it.

“They couldn’t find someone to cover a couple days for you?” Eddie sounds hurt now, and Steve can’t let him think that he’s the problem.

“I didn’t ask. I-” Steve has to be brave now. Wayne’s voice is in his head telling him to just tell Eddie why he’s been so distant, why he hasn’t been the one to reach out. “I was scared to go.”

This seems to throw Eddie off balance. His eyes squint and forehead wrinkles adorably as he tries to do mental gymnastics to find out why Steve of all people would be scared to visit him. Steve is known for throwing himself in the line of fire, being the first one to step in when everyone else is scared. Too bad this type of courage is different.

“Are you scared of flying? I didn’t know, maybe we could have figured out a hired car.”

“No, I don’t mind flying,” Steve admits.

“Then…why were you scared?”

“Because if I let you in, you’ll see how much I miss you and if you see how much I miss you, you’ll see how much I love you. And then you’d never wanna have me around and it would be just like everyone else I love who leaves because I’m not enough to keep them around,” Steve lays his head back against the couch. The Wayne voice in his head is suspiciously quiet.

So is Eddie.

Steve isn’t going to talk anymore; He’s said enough.

Eddie’s hand covers Steve’s. It’s warm and surprisingly soft, and bigger than Steve’s. He never realized that before, not even when he held his hand while he was in the hospital after Vecna or when he watched him play guitar for hours while he was trying to gain his confidence back.

“People don’t leave because you aren’t enough, Steve. They leave because the world is big and they want to be a part of it. Everyone wants you to do that, too,” Eddie says softly, carefully. “I think most of the kids hoped you’d leave Hawkins once they did. Dustin thought you’d come on tour with me.”

“Why would he think that?” Steve doesn’t remember ever having a conversation with Dustin that would make him think that, but his memory isn’t the best.

Eddie’s lips curl up into a smile and he leans forward.

“You know you’re incredibly obvious, right?” Eddie whispers even though they’re alone and there’s no need to be quiet. “You’ve always been easy to read.”

“What does that mean? Read what?”

“You wear your heart on your sleeve and it’s been right there with Eddie written across it since I was in the hospital, sweetheart.” Eddie points to Steve’s arm. He looks down as if he would be able to see the heart Eddie’s talking about. “You’re an open book.”

The timer in the kitchen goes off and Steve jumps up. He rushes to the oven, grateful for the distraction.

“Is that apple pie?” Eddie asks from a few feet away. Steve really should’ve known he would follow him.

“Yes, it’s gotta be perfect.”

“You made apple pie for me?”

Eddie’s right behind him now, and when he turns, there’s no space between them at all. Steve smells the airport on him, the rental car, the cologne he’s worn since Steve bought it for him before he left Hawkins.

He looks up and sees the years that have passed in smile lines on Eddie’s face, in a single gray hair that Eddie’s probably keeping because it makes him look cool. Steve hasn’t found any gray hairs yet, but he’s only 25. Eddie always said Wayne went completely gray by 30, so his genetics wouldn’t be as kind to him. Steve kinda hopes he’s right. Eddie would be beautiful with gray curls.

“Just like I said: heart on your sleeve,” Eddie whispers, leaning in until his lips are just barely brushing against Steve’s.

He’s waiting for Steve, to see if he’ll finally give in after years of near-silence, after whatever flirty and semi-codependent friendship they had before Eddie left to be a rock star.

Steve’s spent enough time waiting, and he thinks Eddie probably has, too.

His lips press against Eddie’s, sure of their movements despite the anxiety crawling through his chest and the unfamiliar taste of him on his tongue.

It’s full of hunger even though it only lasts a few seconds. Steve’s wanted this, wanted him, for so long, he puts everything he has into this moment. If it’s all he gets, he wants it to be perfect.

“You’re kissing me like you’re sending me off to war,” Eddie says when they’ve caught their breath.

“Feels like I am,” Steve admits, corner of his mouth turning up in a sad smile. “At least a little.”

“I think the odds of me dying on stage are probably extremely slim,” Eddie laughs. Steve doesn’t laugh with him. “Steve? What’s wrong?”

Steve pulls himself away, ignoring the way his chest aches at the separation. He’ll have to get used to that when Eddie leaves.

“You have a whole new life. You’re a rock star, Ed. I can’t force my feelings on you now.”

“Who said you forced anything on me?”

“I made you apple pie!” Steve exclaims, pulling away so he can breathe again. Having Eddie in his space alters his brain chemistry, maybe his DNA. “I bought all your favorite things so I could try to convince you I’m worth staying for, even though I can’t compare to going on a world tour with your band. I cleaned out the guest room and made sure I put your favorite shampoo in the shower as if you would even notice that. As if it would be enough to keep you around.”

Eddie steps closer, but Steve steps back.

“Your life is different now. It’s good. I wouldn’t add anything to it, and I don’t know why I even tried to make it seem like I would.”

Eddie steps closer, and there’s nowhere for Steve to go. He’s boxed in against the counter, and Eddie’s face is red with anger. He’s not scared– he could never be scared of Eddie– but he does swallow around a lump in his throat and try to take a deep breath to calm his racing heart.

“My life is different now, you’re right about that. My life doesn’t even feel like mine most days. I belong to fans, and the guys, and the record label. But you know what does feel like mine?” Eddie leans in close enough that his breath is hot against Steve’s face. “How much I love you. How much I have always loved you. You’ve always felt like mine, Steve.”

It’s a hell of a confession, and definitely not what Steve expected from this visit.

The Wayne voice in his head decides to speak again. Except this time, it’s something he’s said to Steve in person before.

He’s surrounded by people, but he seems pretty lonely. Kinda like he still needs a certain someone.

Steve’s brows crinkle as he thinks about the words Wayne said after a phone call with Eddie during the first part of his first tour nearly two years ago. The words were accompanied by a look that Steve has since come to recognize as his sad puppy look.

The same one Eddie’s giving him now.

Steve can’t help it; He laughs.

“You and Wayne could bottle that look and sell it to people who need someone to feel bad for ‘em,” Steve says. He cups Eddie’s cheek in his palm, rubs his thumb against the angry red that turns into a flushed pink. “I don’t know how you could love me-”

“Steve-”

“But!” Steve interrupts. “I know you wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it. And you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to be. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have taken the time to come back here at all, let alone stay with me. I won’t understand it, but I’ll believe it.”

“That was easier than Wayne said it would be,” Eddie’s smile grows slowly, lighting up his face and the room.

“He’s been buttering me up for years,” Steve shrugs.

“Doing all the hard work, more like,” Eddie leans forward, rests his forehead against Steve’s. “He must’ve been sick of hearing me yearn for your love.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You know, you could have come back sooner. You didn’t have to wait until I was convinced I’d be alone forever.”

“And you could have called me to let me know I could visit sooner.” Eddie pokes the tip of his nose with his finger, smirking as he leans away to look back at the apple pie on the oven. “Especially if I could’ve been having apple pie on every break.”

“It might not even be good,” Steve says as he wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist.

“Is there vanilla ice cream?” Eddie pecks his lips.

“Mhm,” Steve kisses his cheek. “And you can have some if you promise to sit down and tell me everything about the band.”

“You wanna waste time hearing about Gareth drooling over every woman who looks his way? We could be making love on the couch.”

Steve raises a brow. “We won’t be making love anywhere but my bed. And it won’t be until we’ve talked more.”

“Fiiiine,” Eddie rolls his eyes, but grabs for the pie cutter on the counter. “Cut me a piece of pie and I’ll do my best to resist taking all your clothes off.”

“I never said you couldn’t do that,” Steve grabs the pie cutter.

“So I can take your clothes off?”

“Shirt only. And after pie…we’ll talk.”

“I thought after pie we’d be done talking.”

“How long are you staying?” Steve asks as he puts the slice of pie onto the plate and hands it to Eddie.

“Four days.”

Steve tilts his head side to side, considering what he can accomplish in four days.

In any other situation, he might be worried about how quickly he throws off his shirt. In any other situation, he would probably insist on talking to Robin before throwing his heart on the plate next to the scoop of ice cream Eddie just put next to his steaming slice of pie. In any other situation, he would take things slow and get to know rock star Eddie who left Hawkins to be someone.

But he’s finding that he’s okay with speed-running things.

He’s got a new perspective on Eddie’s visit, and maybe a new perspective on what their future will look like.

Steve drops his pants. Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Eat your pie. We’ll talk while we make love on the couch.”

[idontactuallyremember]

Thanos x fem!reader PART ONE

- You assume Thanos flirts with you in an attempt to get you to vote O next round. He comes to you late at night and offers you something. At first, you think it's only so he can manipulate you. However, he asks you something that changes your assumption of him and what he wants.

- TW! Y'all both popping pills!!!

- Sad boy/ sorta soft boy Thanos :( Fluff, essentially SFW (Next part might be spicy 🤪)

- He's kinda a jerk at first (it's a defense mechanism, he's hurting)

“Why not? You think you’re better than us?” Thanos says, a sarcastic smile sprouting on his lips, “You think you’re better than Thanos, girl?”

“I don’t need a team. I don’t need friends.” You say, simply, “I don’t need a group.”

This is not your first time explaining to Thanos you didn’t want to join his team. Each time he offered, he had a different, new and improved reason as to why you had to join them.

“Last game… I saw you struggling. The bitches you’re with now won’t help you if the next game is another team game. You’re lucky you survived the Pentathlon.” Thanos replies and Nam-Gyu, his pet, bobbles his head in agreeance.

“Remind me, why do you even care?” You smile.

“We want to protect you, baby. You think such nasty things of us… We also need an extra vote for the O team and if you join us, I know you’ll vote O next round.”

“I don’t need your protection. I think you need my help more than I need yours.” I give an exaggerated, sarcastic, sad glance to the voting results- a tie until we re-vote tomorrow, “Anyhow, even if I joined your team- I’m still voting X.”

“Well, if you joined my team and voted X that’d be like betrayal to me, girl. Why can’t we both benefit from this?”

“Right, how am I benefiting?"

“Well, we’d be protecting you like I said! If you don't join us someone else will and if you’d rather die with those bitches-”

“Stop calling them that!” You interrupt but he ignores you.

“-than go right ahead.”

There’s a moment of disapproving silence- you and Thanos simply stare at each other.

He glances you up and down and stalks closer to you, closing the space to mere inches- “I could protect you and I could also get my dick wet, yeah? Make you feel good?”

“Fuck you.” You say.

“She’s just playing hard to get.” He says to his group as you walk away.

Later that night, you lay in bed, unable to sleep. A bad feeling creeps up your chest- the feeling that you might die here.

You also think about what Thanos said. He's been flirting with every girl here but he won't leave you alone specifically. He’d fuck anything that walks, surely. It sort of made you mad- but deep down- part of you liked that he chased you.

You stare at the ceiling for minutes, maybe half-an-hour. You hear movement coming from below you, only, it’s too dark to see anything. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself so you stay as still as possible.

Someone is climbing up your bed to the top bunk. You already know who it is. The sight of purple hair only solidifies what you already know to be true.

“I will kick you down the fucking bunk and laugh when you break your neck- get the fuck out of my bed.” You say.

“Woah, woah, I just saw how tense you were earlier, I figured: why not offer you something?”

“You’ve offered enough, no?” You ask, cheekily.

He says nothing, only sits himself down (uninvited), removes the necklace from his neck and opens the cross. An array of colorful tablets lay in a hidden compartment.

“You want one?” He says, a smile on his face.

He waited, expectantly. You’d never seen him this happy or this excited. Maybe only when he murdered three people during Red Light, Green Light.

You think about the consequences of taking one. He probably wanted to drug you and get you to vote O, or worse.

He notices your hesitation and states, “Look: I’ll take one, too. We could get high together, okay?”

He picks a green one and places it on his tongue, then, lingering for a moment, “What’s your favorite color, baby?”

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, maybe it was the excessive trauma of the last few days but- fuck, he is hot. Sitting here in the dim-lit room, him in your bed, you only notice now. The tattoos; running down his neck, down his arm, to his long, slender fingers. The ear piercings, the purple hair, the colorful nails- he was sexy. Especially the way he looked at you; looked at those pills. Like a kid on Christmas. You can’t help but think about what his tattoos look like in full; what he looks like without his shirt.

“Pink.” You swallow, thickly, clearing your head.

He meticulously shuffles the tablets around, digging for a pink one, his hands hovering over the piece of jewelry.

“Open.” A simple demand- he doesn't even look at you to see if you do. 'Cocky fuck', you think but your legs feel weak from his commanding tone, anyway.

You do as he says and he places the tablet on your tongue.

“Good girl… chew it.” He purrs. Your insides feel like jelly.

“It will hit hard and fast, okay? Should I stay here?” He asks.

You remember that feeling you had, laying awake before Thanos crawled up here. The feeling that death is imminent, that you will die here, maybe in this bed.

You still didn't trust him- not as far as you could throw him- but if you may die anyway…

“Stay here with me.” You decide, quietly.

“Okay.” He lays down next to you instantly, stroking your hair.

It’s silent as he twirls your long hair between his fingers.

“Thanos?”

“Yes, pretty?”

“Why won’t you leave me alone?”

“I want you.”

“Why? Why not someone else?”

He thinks for a long time.

“The other people here... they treat me like an object. I'm some rapper- not even anymore- who they just want to say they met. Say they were friends with... whatever. You saw the way they all wanted a picture with me? Those people admire me but they don't like me. Plus, I always want things I can’t have. You don’t like me, either. It makes me want you more. At least you don't lie to me."

Maybe it was the drugs talking.

Maybe it’s only because he won’t give up. Maybe you liked that he wanted you so bad.

“I do want you.” You say, barely above a whisper.

“Why do you act like you don’t?”

“Because I don't agree with you in this game. I need to leave. Fuck the money, at this point. I’d rather have my life.” you say.

“I wouldn’t.” He says, glumly. You don’t ask why; you don’t say anything.

It's silent for so long, you wonder if Thanos fell asleep. You feel the drugs working through your body, your feet and hands tingling, the room spinning. You wonder if he’s feeling it by now, too. You wonder how many he takes- Do they even do anything for him anymore?

“Life sucks out there…If everyone else around me is pretending... pretending to be my friend... I want to just pretend- even for a minute- that things are okay.” He admits, sleepily, “I can't… do that out there. Here I can pretend.”

For a long time, you don't know what to say.

“I understand.” You say. Because you do.

You feel him push against you closer.

“Pretend with me?” He asks.

More silence. Is this his way of trying to convince you to vote O? He plays the sad-boy card?

“Please?” His voice desperate; he grips your shirt as he cuddles you, pulling you close. He sounds genuine.

“Okay. We can pretend, Thanos.”

“Thank you.” He says, seemingly relieved. You feel the grip on your shirt loosen after a few minutes.

“Thanos?” You whisper.

No reply- he’s asleep. You relax into his arms until you think about what he said, just earlier:

"You don’t like me, either. It makes me want you more. At least you don't lie to me."

When you recall him saying that, all you can think about is how he isn't asking to be wanted or loved- he's not even asking for the truth, whether he appreciates it or not. He's asking, desperately, to pretend.

You realize how much a person needs to have been lied to to beg to be lied to, again, only, under their own terms.

For him to beg for an ounce of kindness, sympathy, connection: even if it's not real... that must hurt.

Your stomach turns; you feel like crying. You stare at the ceiling more.

Thanos snores softly beside you.

[revelboo]

Hi Revel! Not a request or anything but I just wanted to send in an ask telling you how much I appreciate your works! There’s such variety to choose from and I’m constantly impressed with the storylines that you craft and everything you come up with! I love how much you’ve thought about each character and it really shows in your work. For example, you’ve gone into little bits here and there about how each of your Starscreams’ are different and you are just superb at showing it! (Your take on Armada Starscream is my absolute favorite!!) It’s really inspiring honestly and makes me want to get back into fanfiction again. I can’t tell you how much I look forward to checking your blog each day and seeing what you’ve been up to! Also your blog is so accessible! I cannot imagine all the links you have to put in and kept up with but I’m so grateful for it! Ah, sorry for the rambling but I hope life treats you well. :^] <3

Here’s a silly little photo for you! He is so little <3

Thank you! I’m glad you like my nonsense and go out there and write the things you love! 💕

Bee’s just a tiny bab.

Even If It Kills Me Pt 14

Armada Starscream x Reader

• Head lifting from where you’re idly drawing on his datapad, you go still at the smell of food. Actual, hot food not chips or cookies. And Runway chirps holding up a brown paper bag. Watching the other two try to seize it from him before Starscream huffs through his vents and picks you up to set down on the floor with the mini-cons. “How did you get fast food?” You ask as Runway pushes the bag in your hands and then drapes himself against your back when you sit crosslegged on the floor and open it, the other two creeping closer and openly curious.

• Wings lifting and falling as he retrieves an energon cube for himself and smaller ones for the mini-cons and joins you on the floor, he watches you remove little wrapped packages from the bag. “The mini-cons found it,” he says and you shoot him a look. “A human set it on an outdoor table in the park and Runway snatched it,” he admits with a grimace. You don’t look angry, though as you grab a fistful of little yellow sticks and shove them in your mouth, eyes closing. Watches Sonar and Jetstorm lean over to vent curiously, recoiling when you offer them a bit. “They can’t eat that. Unless you want them purging on you later.”

• “Thank you for taking care of me,” you whisper to the mini-cons and Runway affectionately butts his helm against you before seizing one of the mini energon cubes Starscream is holding out for them. Because you’ve been wanting real food rather than the junk food Star keeps bringing you. Know he’s trying his best, keeps stealing things for you and he’s been working on something lately in a corner of his habsuite, the paneling of the wall and floor pulled up over there. Not sure what he’s up to since he gets flustered when you ask, making you think it has to do with you.

• “I’ve told you that you don’t need to thank me or them for that,” he mutters before taking a deep drink. Aware of you grinning up at him before you turn your attention back on the food, eating much quicker than you normally do to make him feel guilty. Because he’s almost certain he’s doing a terrible job caring for you and you’re just too nice to say anything to him. You seem happier at least with him. When you have your nightmares and he remembers the bruises on your face when he’d found you, the resignation, he thinks about returning to that home he’d found you at. Wanting to find whoever scared you so bad you still can’t shake the fear. Knows he’ll likely never be able to get revenge on his tormentor, but he could remove yours from the face of this world. But if he does and you ever find out, you may not look at him the same way anymore and he can’t risk that. Wants you to keep smiling for him. To be worthy of your trust.

• “I know,” you say, looking up to find him frowning at nothing like he sometimes does. That little show and tell of scars was the most he’s let his guard down and had been enough to understand that he understands you, because he’s suffered at someone else’s hands, too. That he’s been through not exactly the same thing, but something similar enough and he’d not been completely broken by it helps you keep smiling for him. He’s gruff and awkward, but he’s kind. And you want to protect him and that kindness, because it means everything to you.

Previous

[sinnabarmoth]

Taking Care

Pairing: Rafayel x Fem|Reader

Prompt: Mini fic of Reader being a soft!dom with the lads. (Not necessarily sexual, just sweet 'let me take care of you' vibes)

Word count: 1k

Links to the other lads: (Sylus) (Xavier) (Zayne)

You hadn’t heard from Rafayel in a couple days which was…concerning. For someone that got upset when you forgot to text him at least once a day his radio silence was baffling. You texted, you called, but nothing. You even tried asking Thomas but he just shrugged and said that sometimes when Rafayel was working on a new piece he went full hermit mode. No one but the food delivery driver was going to see him.

You decided that just wouldn’t do. You knew how Rafayel was and you would not put it past him to forget to eat or sleep because he was too in the zone while working. So you went to the store to buy some ingredients for a home cooked dinner and went to his place. You let yourself in using the spare key he had given you and wandered in. No signs of life in the living room or kitchen. You put the groceries away and went to the studio.

Sure enough, there he was. He was sat in the middle of the floor hunched over a canvas. There was some old half eaten food containers shoved off to the side and various sketches scattered around the floor.

“Raf,” you said, “Still alive over there?”

He sat up straight and you could hear his bones crack as he straightened. You could see him wince as he stretched and turned to look at you. “Oh hi,” he said, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone, I came to check on you.” you got closer and noticed that his entire person was covered in smudges of paint both fresh and dried. His hair was greasy and lank, and there were huge bags under his eyes. There was also an undeniable funk coming off of him that made your nose wrinkle. “Good thing I did too. What on earth are you doing?”

“Inspiration called and I had to answer.” he gestured to the painting. “She’s nearly done. I’ve been adding the finishing touches.”

“Okay. Glad to know you’ve been working hard but this is too much. You smell terrible and when was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t need sleep.”

“Yes, you very much do.” you held out your hand, “You can finish your painting tomorrow. You’re mine tonight.”

“Oh really?”

“Not in that way. Come on.” you hauled him to his feet and pulled him into the bathroom.

“Cutie, this really isn’t necessary--”

“Raf, sweetie,” you cupped his face, “You don’t look well. I knew there was a chance you weren’t taking care of yourself but I didn’t realize it was this bad. Now come along, we’re gonna get you cleaned up, I’m making us dinner, and then you are going to bed. Got it?”

“I know better than to say no to you.” he smiled. “What do you want me to do first?”

“You can start by brushing your teeth and having a shave, you’re stubbly.” you turned him to the sink. “I’m gonna draw you a bath.”

After he had finished you ordered him to strip and get in the tub. There was a cheeky offer to join him but you shook your head and told him he wasn’t getting anything like that until after he had a full night’s sleep. You did however sit at the edge of the tub and reclined his head back so you could wash his hair and massage his scalp. A deep sigh of satisfaction left him as you gently lathered the grease out of his hair. You left him to dry himself off and went to the bedroom to grab a change of clothes and threw his dirty clothes in the wash.

He looked so much better. “There’s my clean soft boyfriend again.” Without having to worry about his bad breath you pulled him down and gave him a kiss, little droplets of water from his still wet hair dripped onto your hands. “Feeling any better?”

“Much.”

“Good. Now come along. I’m gonna get dinner started.”

“Want any help?”

“No. You’ll just slow me down. You can pick out a movie for us to watch though.” you pulled him into the living room and sat him down on the couch. “Stay.”

“Yes ma’am.” he gave a little salute and turned on the TV. You went into the kitchen and started cooking. It wasn’t anything extravagant, just some simple porridge that was filling and hearty.

As you were cooking you kept glancing over at Rafayel just to make sure he was still doing okay. It broke your heart seeing how little he was taking care of himself. Was this what he was like before? How many times had he done something like this? Did Thomas pull him out of his spirals or did he end up just crashing and took care of himself after he got some actual sleep? You didn’t want to know. He had you now and you weren’t going to let him keep up these kinds of bad habits. Inspiration be damned! His health mattered more to you.

Once the food was ready you handed a large serving over to him, threw a blanket over your laps, and settled down to watch the movie he had picked. “Thanks for doing all this. It wasn’t necessary though. I was fine.”

“You were most decidedly not fine, Raf.” you ran a hand through his hair. “You looked like death warmed over and smelled just as bad. It’s not just you anymore, you have to take better care of yourself, doesn’t matter about inspiration. I want you healthy. And if you can’t be trusted to take care of yourself then I’ll do it for you.”

“I’m glad to have such an attentive caretaker.” he leaned his head on your shoulder. “I might just fall asleep right here.”

“Not until after you eat.” you picked up a spoonful of porridge and brought it to his mouth. “Eat.”

“You’re also a very no nonsense kind of caretaker.” Rafayel sighed but happily opened his mouth to accept the porridge.

“I don’t mess around when it comes to caring for what I love.” you kissed the top of his head. “Now keep eating, we’ll go to bed in a bit.”

After dinner was eaten and the movie finished Rafayel was really close to nodding off. He had started slipping about three quarters of the way through the film. When you asked him if he wanted to go to bed he shook his head and said he wanted to finish the movie first. You figured he was just too comfortable curled up next to you to want to move. But when the credits started rolling you dragged him off to the bedroom so he could have a sleep in a proper bed.

You snuggled in next to him, holding him close. “Good night, Raf. Sweet dreams.”

“So long as you are here, I know they will be.” he sighed, his eyes slipping closed. “I love you.”

You smiled and kissed his sleeping face. “Love you too.”

[lewdlepoodle69]

Ara and Eule, deep underground.

Another drawing that surprisingly didn't take as long as I was expecting! It's always wonderful when that happens, and I’m very happy that it did. I've been very excited to explore this style I've happened to fall into: being very noisy and detailed; but I’m also trying to practice enjoying the process and not being too serious or hard on myself. And I feel like I succeeded because it was fun! But I've certainly felt the pull of getting serious and planning a lot of future stuff which I know burns me out severely. So for the sake of my workflow, and because I want to make more things this year than the last, I'm trying to be easy on myself.

But as with most artists probably, I want to draw so many things but have only so many hours in the day, so I want to plan around that so I can draw as much of the stuff I want to as I’m able to, but I know when I get in that mindset I start to burnout. It's a balance. And I'm not in equilibrium yet. Which annoys me, but It's not going to work if I'm not patient.

I also need to learn that often working on something new takes some effort to get off the ground before I’m fully into it and can just blast it out. Now that i’ve finished this, I’ve started working on something new, and it frustrates me because I knew pretty much immediately what I was going to do with this one. Which isn’t happening with the new thing. Patience, me!

Anyway, I really like this one. I think the detail of the planet framing their heads is very fun. And I really enjoy the concept of the whole thing!

[szariahwroteit]

Doll House: A Jude Bellingham + Orginal Character Erotic Series.

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 11

Although Tori was thankful for the life she was currently making for herself in Madrid, as optimistic as she tried to be, sometimes she felt a little lonely. She had friends in Spain, shoulders to cry on if need be, but it was in moments like these where the loneliness she felt was a void too big to patch over.

Despite the undeniable chemistry she shared with Jude, she couldn’t sit and talk with him about problems that revolved around him.

The weather outside seemed to reflect Tori’s inner turmoil, the rain had been non-stop since the early hours of the morning and based on the forecast showed no signs of slowing down.

Tori watched a particular raindrop as it meandered down the glass of Jude’s bedroom window overlooking his sprawling backyard.

A soft knock sounded against Jude’s open bedroom door, causing Tori to startle slightly, breaking her focus from the rhythmic dance of the raindrop. She turned to see Jude standing there, a quizzical look on his face, flooded with concern. The dim light from the overcast sky illuminated the sharp lines of his jaw, making him appear even more ruggedly handsome.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, his voice low and soothing, as he stepped further into the room. The way he cared, yet remained distant, left Tori feeling both comforted and conflicted. She took a deep breath, quickly brushing aside her swirling emotions.

“Yeah, just watching the rain,” she replied, forcing a lightness into her voice. “It’s so peaceful out there.”

Jude followed her gaze to the window, his brow furrowing slightly. “It is. But it’s also a bit gloomy. How about we find something to cheer you up?” He stepped closer, leaving just enough space for her to feel at ease while also making her heart race.

Tori smiled, trying to mask the heaviness inside. “I’m fine, really. Just a little nostalgic, I suppose. It happens.”

His piercing eyes searched hers, a mix of understanding and concern glistening in their depths. “You know you can talk to me, right? Even if it’s about… what happened with Eliza at dinner last night.” He gestured between them, the unspoken tension radiating like electricity across the room.

“I’m okay,” Tori smiled, hoping the gesture was enough to convince him.

Deep down, she was far from okay. A storm of emotions swirled within her, each one more tumultuous than the last. She felt as if she were walking on a tightrope, teetering on the edge of despair. The idea of allowing herself to truly open up filled her with dread; it was as if unleashing her thoughts and feelings would cause her to shatter like fragile glass. The tension coiled tightly within her, a constant reminder that one misstep could lead to a complete collapse.

Jude stood there for a moment, the silence stretching between them like an unbroken cord. The rain tapped relentlessly on the windowpane, almost in sync with the rapid heartbeat in Tori's chest. She could feel him weighing his next words carefully, an unspoken understanding lingering in the air.

Finally, he stepped closer, the warmth of his body radiating into the cool space between them. “Tori, come here.”

With an internal battle raging in her mind, Tori felt the pull of Jude’s invitation wash over her like a warm tide. She hesitated, torn between the urge to retreat into her shell and the simple longing to be near him. The very idea of letting him in was terrifying; on the other hand, the comfort of his presence offered a reprieve from the solitude that had clung to her heart.

As she crossed the room, each step felt both exhilarating and terrifying, a delicate dance of anticipation and fear. When she finally stood before him, the heat radiating from his body was undeniable.

“Tori,” he murmured, gently placing her hands on her hips, drawing her body against his so he could wrap his arms around her, pulling her into a comforting hug.

She melted into Jude’s embrace, the world outside fading into a distant murmur. His warmth enveloped her, and for a moment, the heavy weight of her loneliness dissipated. She could feel the steady beat of his heart against her cheek, a reassuring rhythm that grounded her amidst the chaos swirling in her mind.

“It’s okay to not be okay,” Jude whispered, his voice soft and steady. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

Tori closed her eyes, a single tear escaping down her cheek. It surprised her, the sudden release of pent-up emotions, but she couldn’t hold back the floodgates any longer. “I just… I feel so lost sometimes,” she admitted, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. “I thought coming to Madrid would be this amazing adventure, but it’s not always like that. I miss home, I miss my friends, and I miss feeling like I belong somewhere.”

Jude tightened his grip as if he could shield her from the weight of her worries. “You belong here, Tori. You’re not alone in this. You have me, and I… I care about you. A lot.”

His confession hung in the air, charged with meaning. Tori’s heart raced a mix of hope and fear swirling within her. Could she let herself believe that? Could she allow someone in when she had built up so many walls to protect herself from hurt?

“What if I can’t be what you need?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “What if I’m just a mess?”

Jude pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, his gaze unwavering. “Then we’ll figure it out together. You don’t have to have everything sorted right now. Just take it one day at a time.”

Tori nodded, her heart swelling with an overwhelming mix of gratitude and fear. She realized how desperately she wanted to trust him, to believe that she could lean on him without the weight of expectation. But the scars of past disappointments whispered doubts in her mind.

“Come downstairs,” Jude suggested, breaking the heavy silence. “Come and watch a movie with me.”

“Okay,” she finally replied, managing a small smile that still felt laced with apprehension.

As they made their way to the cozy living room, the atmosphere shifted away from introspection and into something lighter. Jude dimmed the lights and handed Tori a neatly folded blanket, instructing her to get comfortable on the sofa.

Tori wrapped the soft blanket around herself, feeling its warmth envelop her like a gentle hug. She sank into the cushions of the couch, her body relaxing as she settled into the space.

Jude took a seat beside her, his hands immediately finding her waist as he pulled her body on top of his wanting to be closer to her.

Despite Tori’s lack of clothes as she lounged on top of him, sex or anything of that nature was the furthest thing from his mind. Her legs rested on either side of his as she straddled his lap, her face pushed into the warm curve of his neck as she allowed herself to be held.

The feeling of Jude's body beneath her was both comforting and electric, a mix of intimacy and safety that left Tori's heart racing in a way it never had before. She felt enveloped in his warmth, like a blanket that shielded her from the chill of the outside world—all the loneliness, the hesitation, the fear. For a brief moment, her concerns faded into the background as she savored this closeness.

Jude's hands rested gently on the small of her back, his fingers tracing patterns that sent shivers coursing through her. As she nestled further into him, Tori inhaled deeply, breathing in his scent—a rich, earthy aroma that felt like home.

"It's nice to have this moment," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just us, away from everything else.”

Tori nodded against his shoulder, a quiet acknowledgment of the sanctuary they had created together at that moment. She could feel the tension within her begin to unravel, each heartbeat synchronizing with Jude’s soothing presence. Yet, a flicker of worry crept in—was it too good to be true?

“What are you thinking?” Jude asked, his tone gentle but curious as he tilted her chin up so their eyes locked. The intensity of his gaze sent her pulse racing.

“I don’t know,” Tori admitted, battling the mix of emotions swirling inside her. "I just feel… overwhelmed, I guess. It’s like I want to open up to you but I’m scared.”

Jude’s expression softened, his eyes searching hers with a depth that made her feel seen. “You don’t have to share everything at once. We can take our time, and I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her, brushing a strand of hair back from her face.

Tori felt the familiar ache of longing deep inside her, the gnawing desire to let him in. But letting him see her vulnerabilities felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to plunge into waters unknown.

“Sometimes I think that if I open up too much, I’ll just drown in my own mess,” she confessed, her voice quivering slightly. “And I don’t want to burden you with all of that.”

“You are not a burden to me,” Jude replied firmly, his hands sliding to her waist, thumbs gently rubbing circles that calmed her racing heart. “It’s okay to be messy. Life is messy. But you don’t have to go through it alone. You’ve got me.”

His words wrapped around her, comforting yet intimidating. The sincerity in Jude's eyes and the warmth of his embrace made Tori feel fragile yet strong all at once. In that moment, she could almost see herself in a different light, not just as the girl struggling with her loneliness, but as someone deserving of connection and understanding.

Tori swallowed hard, taking a breath that felt deeper than the ones she’d taken before. “What if I end up drowning you too?” she whispered, the vulnerability of her words hanging between them like a delicate thread.

“Then I’ll learn to swim,” he replied, his voice steady and unwavering.

Tori felt something shift within her, that weight of doubt giving way to a glimmer of hope. Maybe Jude was right; maybe she didn’t have to navigate this storm alone. Just the thought was enough to coax a small smile out of her, and she leaned into him a little more, grateful for the strength of his resolve.

“Okay, just… be patient with me, okay?” she asked, her voice softer now, almost shy.

“Always,” he promised, his thumbs now brushing lightly over her hips in a soothing rhythm that sent sparks dancing beneath her skin. “Let’s just enjoy each other’s company for now. No expectations.”

Tori nodded, feeling lighter as she took in that promise. The tension that had held her captive began to dissolve, and for the first time in a long while, an unguarded smile broke across her face. She could let herself be in this moment, to let Jude’s presence seep into her layers of worry.

As he leaned back against the couch, Tori settled against him fully, her head resting on his shoulder. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her, grounding her in the present. The faint sounds of rain pattering against the window melded with the rhythm of their breathing, creating a serene soundtrack that enveloped them.

Jude reached for the remote, flicking on the television to find a movie that would serve as a backdrop to their emerging intimacy. But the film was less significant than the arrangement of bodies—her small silhouette resting snugly on top of him, feeling both helpless and enveloped in his strength.

Tori let out a deep breath as she felt Jude's hand come to caress her bare thigh, the pad of his thumb gently tracing circles that ignited warmth beneath her skin. The touch was innocent, yet it held an unmistakable tension, a teasing promise of something more that lingered in the air around them.

The movie flickered to life, but Tori found it hard to focus on the screen. All of her senses were heightened; the way Jude’s fingers brushed against her thigh sent shivers along her spine, making her heart race in a symphony of exhilaration and uncertainty.

"What's on your mind now?" he asked, his voice soft and smooth like silk, drawing her attention back to him. His eyes were warm and inviting, and she could see the underlying desire swirling just below the surface.

"I'm just… thinking how nice this is," Tori admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Being here with you."

“Just here, no pressure. Just us,” Jude repeated, his fingers still dancing across her skin, each stroke igniting something deep within her that she had kept suppressed for far too long. The touch was light, almost feather-like, and she wished he would press a little harder.

She swallowed the knot of uncertainty in her throat, allowing herself to lose herself in the moment—to indulge in the feeling of being desired, understood, and safe all at once.

As if sensing her thoughts, Jude’s hand slipped beneath the blanket, his fingers moving higher, brushing against the curve of her hip. Tori gasped softly, a thrill running through her as his hand explored her body with a delicate yet possessive approach.

"What if you could let go of everything outside this moment?" Jude murmured, his voice thick with tantalizing urgency. “What if just for now, you focused only on us?”

Tori’s breath quickened at the suggestion, her heart pounding against her ribcage as the reality of his words began to seep in. The noise of the outside world—the rain, the chaos, the loneliness—faded further into the background as she considered his offer.

She shifted slightly on his lap, a flush creeping up her cheeks as she tested the waters of intimacy that surrounded them—so foreign, yet alluring. There was a potent mix of excitement and fear, a sweet tension that had both of them teetering on the edge of something new.

“I want that,” she confessed softly, her voice trembling with honesty. “I want to forget everything else.”

Jude’s eyes darkened, filled with an intense warmth that made her heart flutter in her chest. “May I?” he asked as he reached for the hem of the T-shirt she wore.

Tori’s breath hitched in her throat as she felt the gentle tug of his fingers. It was both thrilling and terrifying, the weight of the moment grounding her as she considered his request. “Yes,” she whispered, barely able to meet his gaze, her heart racing with a mix of eagerness and fear.

With a carefulness that felt intimate in itself, Jude lifted the shirt, baring her skin to the cool air. The contrast sent goosebumps rippling across her body as her nipples stiffened, each touch igniting a fire that pumped through her veins. He took his time, his hands gliding over her bare waist, exploring her curves with reverence as though she were a fragile piece of art.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his voice steady, as his eyes lingered on her breasts for a few ticks before finding hers again.

As beautiful as her body was and as much pleasure as he took in it, in this moment Jude wasn't looking for sex. All he wanted was to be close to Tori, to have her understand that she was wanted.

The intensity of his gaze sent her heart racing, and Tori felt a warmth envelope her that had little to do with the blanket. The weight of his admiration made her feel vulnerable—exposed to the very core, yet wrapped in layers of tenderness.

Each brush of Jude's fingers aainst her skin felt like a promise, a gentle exploration that ignited the building desire within her. Tori's breaths quickened, the air thick with anticipation as she let herself succumb to the moment. She wanted to memorize the way he looked at her—like he could see into her soul like every inch of her was beautiful.

“While your with me the last thing I want is for you to feel alone, I know our situation is the furthest thing from normal as is my life, but I am here for you if you let me be.” Jude leaned closer, his breath warm against her skin, a soft caress that sent tremors through Tori’s entire being. Each word he spoke felt like an invitation to unravel the walls she had meticulously erected around her heart.

Tori shivered as she gazed into his eyes, trying to decipher the sincerity that lay within. There was a magnetic pull between them, one that threatened to ignite the spark of something deeper, more profound. Yet the ghost of her insecurities whispered doubts, urging her to stay guarded, to retreat into the familiar shadows of solitude that had become her refuge.

Tori’s arms instinctively went to cross over her chest in an attempt to cover herself only for Jude to gently catch her wrists, pressing them down to her sides. “Don’t hide from me,” he encouraged softly, the warmth that radiated from his touch sending trembles along her skin. “You’re breathtaking.”

She met his gaze—a mingling of intensity and tenderness, an invitation wrapped in a promise. The vulnerability washed over her in waves, and she fought against the instinct to shield herself. Instead, she pushed back against her insecurities, allowing herself to revel in his admiration.

“Look into my eyes,” Jude whispered, his voice deep and resonant. Tori swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest as she obliged, gazing into the depths of his eyes.

“Trust me,” he murmured, his gaze unwavering, the sincerity in his expression inviting her to step further into the unknown. “You’re safe here with me.”

With each heartbeat, she felt the barriers she had so carefully constructed begin to crumble, loosened by the unwavering strength of his presence. She couldn’t deny the way her body responded to him—how every brush of his fingers, every whisper of his voice sent her senses spiraling.

“I want to trust you,” Tori admitted, her voice filled with a mix of longing and vulnerability. “But it’s hard for me.”

“Then let yourself feel,” Jude encouraged gently. “Let this moment be about you and me. No past, no expectations—just two people finding their way.”

The intimacy of his words wrapped around her like a soft embrace, and she allowed herself to breathe in the moment. Tori’s heart raced as she leaned in closer, feeling the heat radiate from both their bodies.

Tori clung to Jude as his body relaxed into the plush sofa, his fingertips gently tracing invisible patterns along her bare skin. Each stroke sent shivers down her spine, a reminder of the fragile line they were treading between trepidation and desire. His touch was tender, yet ignited a fire within her, a longing for something deeper than mere connection.

Her eyelids fluttered closed as she surrendered to the sensations pooling within her, the warmth of Jude's body cradling her own. It wasn't until she had to fight against tiredness to keep her eyes open that she realized how drained she truly was.

She'd spent the previous night in Jude's bed struggling to put her racing mind at ease. Now in his arms, chest to chest it was as if her body was finally exhaling the tension that had been bottled up inside her since the night before.

When Tori's eyes fluttered open a while later, she was in Jude’s living room alone, her body snuggled beneath the blanket he had given her earlier.

The warmth of the blanket engulfed her, a stark contrast to the chill of the rain still tapping against the window. The soft glow of the television flickered in the dim light, a reminder of the movie she’d half-watched before sinking into an unexpected slumber. Tori blinked groggily, the remnants of sleep drifting away as she registered her surroundings.

Sitting up, Tori held the blanket against her chest as she looked around for the T-shirt she previously wore before being disrobed by Jude.

She noticed Jude lounging in an armchair across the room, his attention captivated by the flickering screen. He had a pair of sweatpants on, the fabric clinging well to his toned legs, and despite the casual attire, he exuded an effortless charm that made her heart race.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he said, a hint of a smile dancing on his lips as he caught her gaze. “You gave in and fell asleep on me. I didn’t want to wake you.”

His voice was warm and inviting, a soothing balm against the remnants of her earlier anxieties. Tori stretched, trying to shake off the drowsiness, but as she did, she became acutely aware of how the blanket slipped to her waist, leaving her exposed.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep,” she stammered, blushing slightly as she tugged the blanket back up to her chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious about her half-clothed state. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

Jude chuckled softly, the sound melting away her embarrassment. “No need to apologize. You looked peaceful. I could tell you needed the rest.”

As she settled back into a more comfortable position, a peaceful silence enveloped the room. Tori’s heart fluttered with a mix of vulnerability and warmth as she took in the sight of him—the way the dim light accentuated the contours of his face, the way he watched her with a glimmer of something deeper in his eyes.

“What are you watching?” Tori asked, her curiosity piqued.

“A classic,” Jude replied, shrugging slightly, seemingly engrossed by a young Denzel Washington on the screen.

“Enlighten me,” Tori said with a playful grin, eager to distract herself from the flutter of nerves in her stomach as she leaned forward slightly, making her way to the edge of the couch so she could grab her top from the floor and slip it back over her head.

Jude chuckled, his gaze shifting back to the film briefly before landing on her once more. “It’s Man on fire. He’s pretty phenomenal in this role.”

With a shy smile, Tori settled back down, her curiosity piqued as they both turned to watch the movie together.

As the film played on, the distance between them seemed to evaporate. Jude moved from the seat he sat on back over to the sofa Tori occupied, settling in next to her.

His presence was magnetic, and she couldn't help but lean into him, seeking the warmth and safety that filled the air between them. As he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, Tori felt a rush of comfort wash over her. The tension from earlier had faded, leaving behind just the two of them and the flickering screen.

“If you're willing to brave the rain, we could go to dinner later?” Jude suggested as he nuzzled closer to her, his breath warm against her hair. The invitation hung in the air, both enticing and daunting, like stepping out from under the protective cover of their shared moment into the chaotic world outside.

“Or we could stay in?” Tori suggested, hoping he'd be okay with the latter.

Jude's eyes sparkled with a playful glint as he turned his head slightly to look at her. “You’d rather stay in, huh? Just the two of us?”

Tori bit her lip, feeling the warmth of his gaze. “I mean… it’s cozy here, and we still have the movie. Plus, the rain is relentless outside. I wouldn’t mind staying in and making dinner for ourselves, unless I'm ruining any plans you made.”

Jude's smile broadened, a hint of mischief lighting up his eyes. "No plans ruined at all," he said, his voice low and inviting. "I like the sound of that. Just us, cooking together ...a bottle of wine?"

Tori's heart fluttered at the thought. The idea of being in the kitchen with him felt warm and intimate, a natural progression from the cozy moment they were sharing. “That sounds perfect,” she replied, a smile spreading across her lips as she settled deeper into the embrace of the blanket and his arm.

Jude's fingers lightly skimmed her back, a gentle touch that made her skin tingle. “Do you have anything in mind, we can make a grocery list.”

“A few nights ago I was in bed salivating over a homemade pizza recipe I saw on tiktok,” Tori grinned, feeling a spark of excitement.

Jude chuckled, his eyes brightening at her enthusiasm. “Pizza it is, I’ll even let you pick the toppings. Just promise not to go too wild,” he teased, waggling his eyebrows playfully.

Tori giggled, her earlier worries beginning to fade as the warmth of the moment enveloped her. “I can’t make any promises! Although I am not a Pineapple on pizza girl.”

“It's not that bad,” Jude retorted with mock seriousness, prompting a laugh from Tori.

“Debatable,” she replied, playfully grimacing.

“We should probably go and grab what we need now before the sun begins to set,” Jude said with a hint of practicality.

Tori nodded with an eager grin. “Let’s do it! I’ll just throw on some clothes and be ready in a flash.”

As she stood, the blanket slipped off her shoulders, reminding her of the carefree intimacy they had shared moments ago. She hurriedly went upstairs to Jude's bedroom and rummaged through her things, locating her leggings and a cozy sweater. After quickly changing, she felt more grounded, thougha rush from earlier still lingered in her chest.

“Ready?” she asked as she joined Jude in the living room, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending the evening with him.

“If you are,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with warmth as they headed towards the door.

Before stepping out into the cold, damp air, Jude stopped Tori in her tracks, gently taking her hand in his, grabbing her attention.

“Kiss me,” he murmured as he bowed his head to her lips, his breath just a whisper away. The invitation hung in the air, electric and charged with possibility.

Tori felt herself blushing furiously as she looked into his eyes, searching for hesitance after their earlier conversation, but all she found was a deep desire that mirrored her own.

“Now,” Jude urged softly, closing the distance between them, his eyes holding hers captive.

Tori's heart raced, anticipation pooling in her stomach as she felt a magnetic pull towards him. “Okay,” she breathed, her voice nearly a whisper. She leaned in, feeling his warmth envelop her as their lips finally met.

The kiss was soft and hesitant at first, a gentle exploration that sent a spark racing through her. Tori felt herself melting against him, utterly consumed by the moment. Jude’s lips were warm, and as he deepened the kiss, she felt a rush of emotions flooding over her—an intoxicating mix of exhilaration, relief, and a sense of belonging that she had been longing for.

Tori wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his hands slide to her waist, pulling her closer. Time felt suspended as they lost themselves in each other, the outside world fading away until all that existed was the warmth of their connection.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally pulled away, foreheads resting against one another, panting slightly. The intensity of his gaze held her captive, and she could see the tenderness reflected back at her—a promise that they were in this moment together.

Tori laughed quietly, feeling giddy from their shared moment. She had been nervous about letting him in, but with each passing moment, she felt her walls melt away.

Taking her hand so he could lead her towards his car, Jude grinned at her, his eyes sparkling with an energy that ignited her own excitement. “Let’s go make some pizza,” he said, his voice buoyant.

As they stepped outside, the cool, fresh air brushed against their skin, invigorating and alive. Tori could hear the rain gently tapping against pavement, a steady rhythm that felt comforting, almost like a promise of a cozy evening ahead. She glanced at Jude, who was shaking off an umbrella from a quick jog from the car, and couldn’t help but smile.

The car ride was filled with laughter, the rain blurring past the windows in a hazy dance. The tension of their earlier conversation slipped away, replaced by the familiar banter that had pulled them together in the first place.

“Okay, what toppings do we need?” Jude asked as they navigated through the aisles of the grocery store. He was pleasantly charming, his hair slightly damp from the rain, while the low lights of the store highlighted the attractive angles of his face.

“Definitely cheese dnd maybe some mushrooms?” Tori replied, her voice bright as they browsed the selections.

“Mushrooms?” Jude teased with a playful grimace. “What else?”

She giggled, feeling light-hearted. “I feel like I’ll just grab stuff as we go, but I am definitely having mushrooms on my pizza.”

As they continued down the aisle, the mundane task of grocery shopping grew into an intimate experience, each shared laugh and playful argument over toppings deepening the bond between them. Jude would sometimes reach out to brush against her arm or lightly bump her hip with his, and each touch sent delightful jolts through her.

“We need a bottle of wine, right?” he asked as they neared the wine section, his eyebrows raised suggestively.

“Absolutely,” she replied, her heart racing at the idea of sharing a bottle with him while they cooked. “I’ll choose it, but if we’re cooking, it has to be something light.”

“You choose, I trust you,” Jude said with a grin, stepping aside as Tori searched the shelves for a suitable bottle.

After a few moments of perusing, she grabbed a crisp white, satisfied with her choice. “This should pair nicely with our culinary masterpiece,” she said, holding up the bottle triumph.

“I’ll take your word for it, wine is never my first choice.” Jude smirked but accepted the bottle from her, giving her a playful wink.

Continuing on through the store, they gathered ingredients: a mix of colorful bell peppers, spicy salami, and two types of cheese—mozzarella and a sharp cheddar that Tori claimed would elevate their pizza to gourmet status. The excitement bubbled between them, an undercurrent of flirtation and shared joy that was impossible to ignore.

As they approached the checkout line, Tori glanced at Jude, her heart flickering with a mix of affection and vulnerability. “Thanks for doing this with me. I really appreciate it,” she said, her voice sincere.

“Of course,” Jude replied, his expression softening. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I like seeing you happy.”

A warmth blossomed in Tori’s chest at his words. She was starting to believe that he genuinely enjoyed her company—more than just a diversion from his own life.

After they paid for their groceries, they loaded the bags into the car, the rain pattering steadily on the roof. Tori couldn’t help but smile as Jude turned the key in the ignition and the car roared to life, a backdrop to the comfort that was beginning to feel like second nature between them.

As they drove back to his place, the rain created a serene ambiance, the world outside a blur of colors and sounds. Tori felt a lightness in her chest, the growing familiarity between her and Jude felt like something she had been craving for but hadn’t known it.

When they returned to the house, Jude and Tori rolled up their sleeves, washing their hands so they could begin to prepare their dinner.

What started out as what was supposed to be a simple relatively fun task had quickly taken a flirtatious turn.

Jude paid more attention to his lips on the crease of Tori's neck and the skin behind her ear as his pizza base lay half done on the counter. Each kiss ignited a spark within her that sent a wave of heat flushing through her body.

“Are you sure this is how you make pizza?” Tori teased, trying to keep her voice light despite the butterflies swirling in her stomach.

“Absolutely,” Jude replied with a playful smirk, leaning in closer, his warm breath brushing against her skin as he placed gentle kisses along her neck.

“Your pizza is not going to make itself,” Tori pointed out as she continued sprinkling toppings onto her pizza base.

“You can make it for me,” Jude said hotly against her ear as his hands reached down to caress her waist, tilting her body just ever so slightly towards his.

Tori felt the breath hitch in her throat as his hands roamed playfully, teasingly, exploring the curves that lay bare under her sweater. The warmth radiating from him was intoxicating, and she found it hard to focus on anything other than the delicious tension simmering between them.

“Was this your plan all along?” Tori asked, her tone playfulas she looked over her shoulder at him.

“Maybe," Jude replied with a smirk, his gaze locking onto hers with a teasing intensity that sent shivers down her spine. "I thought if I got you into the kitchen, I might get a bit more than just pizza."

Tori felt her cheeks flush with warmth, the air between them thickening with a pleasurable tension. She turned back to the counter, trying to concentrate on the task at hand, but Jude's presence was all-consuming. His hands continued to roam, trailing along her sides, sending waves of warmth cascading through her.

"You're distracting me,” Tori playfully protested, her voice slightly breathless as she tried to focus on the pizza dough now spread out on the counter before her.

Jude chuckled, the sound deep and inviting, and she could feel him moving closer behind her, his warmth radiating against her back, before he stepped away from her allowing Tori to making his pizza for him before he helped out them into the oven and set the timer.

Dinner went by in a blur of laughter and good, hearty food. When they were done, Jude offered to clean the kitchen while sending Tori upstairs so she could begin to unwind for the evening.

Tori took a deep breath, feeling a mix of satisfaction and warmth as she leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Jude work. He moved with a casual confidence, wiping down the counters and washing the dishes with ease. It was an everyday scene, but to her, it felt special—a glimpse into a life she never knew she wanted.

As she made her way upstairs, Tori felt a flutter of excitement in her stomach. She had enjoyed their time together, the intimacy they shared over cooking, but the night was still young, and she wondered what else lay ahead.

In Jude's bedroom, sheremoved her clothes before making her way into the bathroom, stopping in her tracks as her mind went back to the warmth of Jude's embrace, the way he had kissed her so softly that it felt like time itself had paused. She could still feel the heat radiating from her skin where his fingers had danced, igniting a fire within her that was hard to ignore.

As she stood there, the steam from the shower began to curl around her, creating a soft fog in the mirror. Tori looked at herself, the reflection showing a girl who was both scared and exhilarated. Never had she allowed herself to feel so vulnerable with someone else. The thought of being naked—both physically and emotionally—made her heart race.

She knew she could easily slip into the shower and wash away the day, but something tugged at her, urging her to reach out to Jude. A wave of spontaneity washed over her, and she couldn’t shake the idea of inviting him to join her. The thought sent a thrill through her; the intimacy of sharing such a private moment felt like a natural progression of their connection.

With a determined breath, Tori stepped out of the bathroom, her heart pounding as she made her way back to the bedroom. Jude was still in the kitchen, his back to her as he wiped down the kitchen counter.

“Jude?” she called softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He turned at the sound of her voice, his expression shifting from concentration to surprise as he took in her appearance.

“Shower with me,” Tori murmured softly, her gaze intensely fixed on Jude's. She stood before him in his kitchen, completely bare, the warmth of her skin glowing under the soft lighting. The hint of vulnerability that once flickered in her eyes had vanished, completely replaced by a palpable, electric desire that filled the air between them. Her confidence radiated, inviting him closer.

“Baby,” Jude breathed out as his hands found her hips, his brow slightly furrowed as his eyes drank in Tori's figure as she stood before him, her caramel skin glowing under the soft lighting of his kitchen as she offered herself to him.

The words hung in the air, charged with an undeniable chemistry that made every nerve in Tori's body hum with anticipation. She could feel the heat radiating from Jude’s body as he stepped closer, their proximity intensifying the moment.

“Come on,” she coaxed, tilting her head slightly, a teasing glint lighting up her eyes. Tori turned on her heel, a playful sway to her hips as she led the way to the bathroom, glancing over her shoulder to catch Jude’s gaze filled with both desire and awe as she led him upstairs.

Jude followed behind her, his eyes glued to the soft jiggle of her ass with each step she took, the curve of her hips that gave way to her petite waistline. He was simply in awe.

Unable to stop himself, Jude raised his hand and sent a rough, stinging slap against the curve of her backside. The sound echoed in the stillness of the house, a sharp contrast to the soft whisper of the water running in the bathroom.

Tori gasped, her eyes widening in surprise, but the flush of excitement that spread across her skin was unmistakable. She turned to him, her breath hitching at the mix of pleasure and pain at that moment.

Her lips curved into a smirk, a challenge glinting in her eyes as she stepped closer, her body itching for contact.

Before she could form another lust-filled sound from her mouth, Jude lifted Tori into his arms carrying her the rest of the up the stairs and into his bedroom, using the door to kick the door shut behind them.

Using one hand to hold Tori’s body, Jude used the other to rip his t-shirt off, carelessly throwing it to the floor as they made a rather messy beeline towards his en-suite bathroom, a clash of lips and teeth as they indulged in one another.

After spending most of the day with such heightened emotions, all Tori wanted to do was forget. She wanted to allow herself to get lost in Jude as he took her to heights unknown.

Placing Tori down on the bathroom counter, Jude sunk down onto his knees as he pushed her legs open, coming face to face with her warm, slick pussy.

Tori's breath hitched as the cool marble of the countertop kissed her heated skin, her heart pounding in anticipation. Jude's rough hands gripped her thighs, parting them wide to reveal her most intimate place. His hungry gaze raked over her, and she could feel his eyes drinking in every inch of her exposed flesh.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me already," Jude growled, his voice low and rough with desire. His thumbs parted her slick folds, exposing her swollen clit to his heated stare.

Tori whimpered, her hips canting forward seeking more of his touch. "Please, Jude," she breathed, her voice heavy with need. "I want your mouth on me."

With a groan, Jude leaned in, his breath hot against her aching core. Tori's head fell back, her eyes squeezing shut as his tongue delved between her slick folds, lapping at her essence.

"Oh fuck, yes," she cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair. Jude's tongue was sinful, his mouth hot and gluttonous as he devoured her.

His talented mouth was relentless, his tongue delving deep to stroke along her fluttering walls, drawing out more of her sweet nectar. Tori's hips bucked against his face, desperate for more of that delicious friction.

"Just like that," she panted, her thighs clenching around his head. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

Jude hummed against her, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure shooting up her spine as he roughly pushed her thighs apart, his head thrashing as he feasted on her.

Their eyes met as Jude lifted his gaze to hers, his eyes dark with lust and his lips glistening with her juices. Tori's pulse jumped at the intensity of that look, her body burning under his heated stare.

She watched, awestricken as Jude puckered his lips allowing a bead of spit to fall from between them onto her pulsing clit.

“Play with it,” he instructed hotly.

Tori's eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and arousal at Jude's command. She swallowed thickly, her pulse jumping as she reached down to circle her clit with the pad of her finger, her slick essence mixing with his spit.

"Good girl," Jude groaned, his voice low and gravelly. His praise sent a fresh gush of wetness to coat her fingers, her touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting up her spine.

Tori's breath came in shallow pants as she worked herself, her hips rolling in time with the movement of her fingers. The obscene sounds of her arousal filled the bathroom, mixing with the sound of the shower running in the background.

"Show me," Jude demanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Fuck yourself for me."

A whimper fell from Tori's lips as she complied, sinking two fingers knuckle-deep into her aching core. She fucked herself hard and fast, her fingers pumping in and out of her slick heat as she chased her release, unable to keep her eyes from rolling shut.

"That's it, baby," Jude encouraged, his fingers tangling in the back of her hair as he raised her head a little, making sure she was also audience to the show she was putting on for him between her thighs.

Tori's breath came in shallow pants as she worked herself, her fingers pumping in and out of her slick heat as she chased her release. The obscene sounds of her arousal filled the bathroom, mixing with the sound of the shower running in the background.

"Look at you," Jude groaned, his voice low and rough with desire. "Fucking yourself for me. You love this, don't you?"

Tori's eyes clenched shut, her hips bucking wildly against her hand as Jude's nasty words pushed her closer to the edge. "Yes," she whimpered, her voice broken and needy.

"Fuck, baby, you're so perfect," Jude growled, his praise sending a fresh gush of wetness to coat her fingers. "Come for me. Come all over those pretty fingers."

Tori's back arched, her body tensing as her orgasm crashed over her. "Jude!" she cried out, her inner walls clenching around her fingers as she came undone. Her vision went, stars exploding behind her eyelids as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

Before Tori had the chance to come back to reality, she was under the showers spray, clinging to Jude as he pinned her overstimulated body against the shower wall, rolling a condon down his thick cock.

He had no intention of rushing anything beyond this point, his eyes drinking Tori in as he towered above her, taking his length into his hand.

Tori's body trembled, her skin flushed and tingling with postorgasmic bliss as Jude pinned her against the shower wall. The hot spray of water cascaded over them, steam rising around their entwined forms. She gazed up at him through hooded eyes, her chest heaving with shallow breaths.

Jude's eyes raked over her, taking in every inch of her glistening skin, his own chest rising and falling rapidly with desire. His large hands gripped her hips possessively, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh.

"Are you ready for me, baby?" Jude murmured, his voice low and rough with need. He positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock nudging against her slick folds.

Tori whimpered, her hips canting forward seeking more of that delicious friction. "Yes," she breathed, her voice heavy with want. "I need you inside me."

With a deep, guttural groan, Jude thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt inside Tori's tight heat. "Fuck," he hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes squeezing shut at the exquisite sensation of her walls gripping him like a vice.

Tori cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders as she was stretched and filled by his impressive length. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, drawing him even deeper.

For a moment, they remained still, savoring the feeling of being so intimately connected. Jude's forehead rested against hers, their ragged breaths mingling in the steamy air between them.

Slowly, he began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained before slamming back in, setting a deep, powerful rhythm. The wet slap of skin against skin echoed obscenely in the shower, mixing with their moans and gasps.

"Baby, look at me," he grunted as his eyes bore into hers, his hips snapping forward to meet hers. Each powerful thrust sent sparks of pleasure shooting up Tori's spine, her inner walls clenching around his thick length.

Jude's hands gripped her hips hard enough to leave bruises, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pounded into her. The water cascaded over them, steam rising around their entwined forms.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Jude groaned, his voice low and gravelly. "Tori, you’re so fucking tight around my cock."

Tori whimpered, her head falling back against the shower wall as she lost herself to the sensation of Jude's merciless strokes. "Harder, baby," she panted, her nails raking down his back. "Fuck me harder."

With a feral growl, Jude obliged, his hips snapping forward with a boundless force. The wet, nasty sounds of their coupling filled the bathroom, mixing with the patter of the shower spray.

Tori's body trembled, her skin flushed and tingling with building pleasure as Jude pounded into her. She could feel her climax building, coiling tighter and tighter in her core.

Tori's body trembled, her skin flushed and tingling with building pleasure as Jude pounded into her. She could feel her climax building, coiling tighter and tighter in her core.

"Jude," she whimpered, her voice broken and needy. "I'm gonna cum."

"Cum for me, baby," Jude growled, his hips snapping forward with a boundless force. "Fucking soak my cock."

Tori's inner walls clenched around him, her body tensing as her orgasm crashed over her. "Fuck, Jude!" she cried out, her vision going white as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

Jude groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. "Fuck, I'm cumming," he grunted, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside her. Tori could feel him throbbing inside her, his hot seed spilling into the condom that sheathed his length in thick ropes.

They remained like that for a long moment, clinging to each other as they rode out the aftershocks of their release. Slowly, Jude lowered her legs, holding her up as he pressed soft kisses along her neck and shoulder. “I want to cum inside you so fucking bad,” he breathed, the revelation surprising him as much as it did Tori.