#Female Artist Series

[yellowcrowindustry]

The love of my life 🩷

[elizabugz]

Little Red Riding Wolf - Jason Schneiderman / x / Black Iris - Leah Raeder / Gleinpir - Walton Ford / x / 940 Main Street - Erin Moran / Doctor Who s1e13 / Ghismomda With The Heart Of Guiscardo - Bernardino Mei / Friends Forever - Wayne McKenzie / The Beast - Frank Bidart

[imharmlessipromise]

She likes to kill with her tits out, no biggie

[msgexymunson]

Rumour Part 6: Rite

Description: Significant changes are happening, what with you moving in with Eddie, and his band taking off. But, are you both headed in the same direction?

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI you should know that by this point, Tiny angst, hella fluff, major smut, sub!fem!reader x dom!older!Eddie, spanking, slight anal play, oral fem receiving, p in v unprotected sex (wrap it folks!) established relationship

A/N: This was a challenge, I really hope I've given them a good send off. Thank you to everyone who has supported me, I'm really going through it right now so this was hard, but worth it! I hope you enjoy this Eddie as much as I do. Comments and reblogs are integral to my well being at this point, please let me know if you liked it! ❤️

7.7k words

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Wiping at the sweat beads gathering on your forehead, you gaze around the new room. The apartment smells wrong, like past people's lives. The hardwood floors creak under your feet as you move to collect the last of the boxes, sound echoing delicately through the high ceilinged space, along with the tinny noise of the portable radio playing some generic rock song. 

This is the biggest place you've ever lived in. The apartment was truly breath taking, such massive windows, an awe-inspiring view that took you by surprise each time; as well as a huge bathroom, and even a spare room for guests. Humming along to the radio, you stride towards the front door at the same time that Eddie walks right through it. 

"Leaving already?" He laughs, hauling two boxes under each straining arm. 

"I was going to get the last of it." You tilt your head at him, watching how his arms flex under the tension. 

"Well, this is the last of it. Come and get it, pretty girl." 

You smile and move to help him unload. The rock radio station suddenly changes tracks to an old Kiss record. 

Eddie smiles, and starts singing along, reaching towards you, dragging you into a reluctant dance. 

"I was made for loving you baby, you were made for loving me" he sings intentionally off key forcing a giggle out of you as he twirls you around. 

"Oh God, this song is so old!" Rolling your eyes you attempt to extricate yourself from his grip. 

"So? So am I. I remember when this came out, fuck." He looks almost distressed at that fact for a moment, before he recovers, spinning you on the spot and pulling you in flush to his chest. 

"So, roomie, what now?" You laugh, batting your eyelashes at his behaviour. 

Watching his face, you see his eyebrow raise, eyes squinting as in deep thought.

"Now? Now I take the moving van back. Then after that, well, we have sex in every room. Obviously. It's tradition." Nodding sagely, he states it like it's a well known fact. 

"Tradition, huh? Since when?" You smirk back at him. 

"Well, these things have to start somewhere, right?" He winks at you, pulling you even closer so he can mouth at your neck. 

"Don't, I'm all sweaty!" You giggle, his lips and tongue brushing over your glowing skin. 

"You say that like it's a bad thing." 

Flushing, you push futilely at his face, attempting to move it away from you. 

"Pervert." 

"We're moving in together, and you've only just realised that? That's on you, sweet thing." Searching for that sweet spot between your neck and shoulder he locates it with ease, biting down hard. 

"Oh Fuck, Eddie!" Fingers crunching uncomfortably into his hard biceps you bend your neck, uncontrollably twisting right into his spit slicked grip. 

"Yeah? Maybe I should take the van back a little later, huh?" His fingertips flirt with the waistband of your shorts, firm digits pressing into the soft flesh of your tummy. His strokes are soft and measured, mouth moving to nip into the tops of your breasts. 

"Eddie…" you try to say in a sing-song, warning manner; but, your voice comes out in a pathetic drawl, whining and needy.

"You want me to stop? Just tell me, pretty girl." He says as he pulls your shorts and underwear down in one swift movement, leaving you bare, exposed to the air and his ministrations.

"Oh Eddie" you breathe out, voice barely whispering, drunk on the mere thought of his touch. 

"That ain't a no" he chuckles, roughly pulling his sweatpants down. The hardness of his pierced length presses into your begging cunt, the dripping slick of your anticipation just pleading for his well endowed shaft. 

"Baby? Really?" You nearly giggle at his eagerness. That is, until he grasps you by the hips and presses your back against the wall. 

"Yes. Really." Rubbing his pierced dick through your folds to gather your slick, he spits down at where you both meet to aid the process, that act alone having you gasping breathily, biting your lip at the lewdness of his actions. 

Without another thought he's pushing into you, splitting you open with his imposing cock. You swear you can feel the steel balls of his piercing rubbing against your G spot. Eyes rolling back, you grasp at his arms, legs flailing helplessly in the air as you're suspended in the air by him, as helpless as a rag doll.

"Oh my God, Eddie, fuck." You salivate at the enormous stretch, cunt clenching around his girthy member. He has you pressed against the wall, back solid against the plasterboard and brick. 

Hoisting your legs around his waist, you lock him in place deep seated inside of you, your hands woven and tangled with the messy bun his hair is loosely tied up in. 

Foreheads touching, you can't help but feel a swell of relief blossoming in your chest at the feel of him filling you entirely. 

"You drive me crazy, pretty girl. I just need you, all the time." He huffs a gruff laugh, clinging to your hips. 

"I know, this just feels right" you breathe out, planting a soft feather kiss to his nose. 

Keeping your back firmly forced against the wall he thrusts into you, pushing you upwards with every stroke. Panting, your heat envelops him, hands grasping his hair desperately, unable to meet his thrusts like this. You're his to use. 

"Oh my God!" You moan brazenly, fingertips pressing minute bruises into his shoulders as you feel yourself being pushed to the apex of your concupiscence. 

 "Yeah? Fuck, you take me so well, such a good fuckin' girl." His drives into you increase, grunting with effort, large inked hands grasping you intensely; you, the object of his desires. 

Burning for him, the throb between your legs mounts and mounts, threatening to burst primitively through your nerves. 

"Oh Eddie, please," your tongue hangs out of your mouth uncontrollably, tongue stud glinting in the light. Eddie wraps your tongue in his own, rippling around it, licking into the soft heat of your mouth. 

Gasping hotly, soft whimpers masked by his lips, Eddie's presence overwhelms you, clambering into your very soul; warm provocative want disbursing throughout you. 

Wanton moans reach a crescendo when he pushes you over that precipice with his firm strokes. Your release antagonises every limb, forcing the true magnitude of your pleasure out through your very veins and beyond, the universe having to deal with being saturated with your violent delights. 

Coming down, your cunt quivering, you feel his thrusts get harder and more erratic as he spews filth into your ear, hot breath dancing over your skin making you gasp and shiver. 

"Fuck, my filthy angel, letting me use this pretty pussy, you drive me fuckin' crazy, with this tight wet cunt of yours, oh fuck!" 

With a long, drawn out groan. After a moment, in between panting breaths, you manage to struggle out, "you're feral, Mr Munson." 

Eddie laughs deep in his chest, you feel it vibrate through you. 

"Only for you, sweet thing." 

"I fucking love you baby" You say, lips dressing kisses to his jaw and throat. 

"I love you too, sweets." His hands massage into the fat of your hips, lips peppering saccharine kisses to your salty skin.

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

Nearly three weeks later and you're shoving whatever boxes that couldn't be unpacked on time into the muddle dump of the spare room, the panic of other people being in your space truly settling in. 

You hardly feel to blame, you were only given three weeks grace from moving in, to having a party. It was not only your moving in party, but also Eddie's birthday on the 30th, and Halloween on the 31st. The trifecta was a little difficult to ignore. 

Striding into the living room littered with black balloons, you move with purpose over to Eddie's weight bench, stifling a whimper at the sight that greeted you. 

"Eddie, is that enough decorations… Jesus Christ." 

You stop. And stare. 

It's been a learning curve, moving in with Eddie. Sometimes, it feels as normal as breathing. On other occasions, he makes your mouth turn dry and your thighs clench and he doesn't even realise what effect he's had on you. This is one of those times. 

Eddie's on his weight bench, shirtless, wearing a pair of loose sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips. He positively gleams in the light, muscles and tattoos catching shimmers of light; bending and twisting the glow straight back into your star struck eyes.

 It looks like a serious amount of weight he's benching; his torso is drenched in sweat. As he pushes the bar into the clips, he cocks his head and winks at you. 

Mouth gaping like a fish, all you can do is watch that self satisfied smirk smooth across those lips like a warm balm. 

"Hanging in there sweets?" He winks at you, shattering through your nerves like a freighter. 

"I- er, yeah. Just wanted to uh, know, er, if the decorations are ok?" you say, indicating the all black décor. 

Your own humming and stammering force your cheeks to blossom into an embarrassed glaze, eyes seeking submission, looking down and away. 

"Looks incredible, sweet thing. Are you ok?" He frowns, genuine concern coating his consternation.

You glance back to grasp his eye contact, trying in desperation to avoid gaping at his toned sweaty form. 

"I'm fine, just a little nervous you know?" Shrugging it off, you move to turn away, but Eddie's already grasped you firmly, fingertips biting into your upper arm.

"Are you sure? You know, we don't have to have a party if you don't want to." 

The furrowed brow, the frown, the grip he has on you; you almost want to cry from the sheer concern to your feelings. 

"It's fine baby, I'm ok, just a little nervous."

"You'll be great. You'll knock them dead. Hell, I'm sure everyone will like you more than me by the end of the night." His warm smile and coaxing strokes help to ground you. 

"Thank you. I'm gonna get ready, ok? Have you got everything you need so you can change?" 

"Yeah I think so, sweets. I put it all in the bathroom. Can I see yours when you're ready?"

You giggle and shrug your shoulders. 

"Maybe? It's a surprise." 

"Oh I see. Well, I'm sure it'll be hot. Can't wait, pretty girl." 

He brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, whilst his eyes leave fire bloomed trails across your skin; even breathing becomes difficult in the sheer strength of his presence. 

"Ok, love you." You manage in a huffed breath, planting a tacky lipped kiss to his full lips. 

Moving to the bedroom to settle down at your vanity, you apply the most innocent makeup that you can muster, knowing full well that Eddie was going to lose it when he saw you. All doll eyes and soft pink frosted lips.

It didn't take as long as you had left to get ready, but tactically you stayed alone in the bedroom just a little while longer.

You know, as sure as death and taxes, that Eddie will outstrip himself of all composure at the sight of your outfit. One of the many reasons why you felt it necessary to hide until just before the party commences. I mean, if he saw you before, you're well aware of how quickly you'd be pinned to the bed due to his desires. 

Five minutes to go, and you feel just safe enough to make your exit. You know he has no time to manifest his impulses. Stepping out of the bedroom, you move towards him in your white low cut strappy top, white pleated tennis skirt and trainers, complete with angel wings and golden wire halo. Your thigh high socks are pristine, a white glow of virgin material, matching the soft white feathers of your faux wings. Turning on the spot in a flirty display, you give out a small girlish giggle. 

"Holy fucking shit sweetheart. I mean, well. Fuck." 

Whilst he clambers for speech, you catch a moment to take in just how good he looks. 

As far as effort, it's not much. But you can't help but feel any more would be too much. Gilding the lily. Taking a deep breath, you attempt to steady yourself. 

Looking from his large feet upwards, it's standard Eddie attire. Clunky combat boots, black jeans, and a black belt with a custom devil's head buckle. Glancing upwards is where it gets interesting. A maroon button down shirt adorns him, the sleeves rolled up and so unbuttoned that the majority of his glistening inked chest is exposed. 

Fake blood makes its slow, antagonising drip from his neck down the rippling muscles of his torso. Fingertip smudges lay on his toned neck, drawing your eye to his stubbly chiselled jaw and cheekbones. His eyes look sunken due to the heavy eyeliner that sat there, enhancing his dramatic stare. The piece de la resistance lay in his curling mop of hair. Bone-like horns rose from his scalp into the atmosphere, so naturally they appeared to be a part of his body; you couldn't even work out how they were attached. 

The most dramatic part of all were the all black contact lenses that appeared to not only take over his irises, but also the whites of his eyes, making him look possessed. Pure inky black orbs stare back at you in a way that makes your thighs clench with want. 

Eddie's just about as lost in your looks as you are lost in his. 

"Did you- did you know, sweet thing?" 

"I saw the package arrive with the custom horns, I kinda knew from there. I had a school girl outfit, but I thought it would be cute to match, you know?" 

Watching Eddie intently you notice a heavy swallow; an attempt to compose himself. 

"A school girl outfit too? Which you have?" The shakiness of his voice ripples a chuckle through your chest.

"Yes, a school girl outfit. But you like this, right?"

"Oh you have no fuckin' idea sweets." 

Taking your hand, he moves to spin you in a slow circle. When your back is to him however, he can't help but flip your skirt up to flash your underwear to his perverted gaze. 

"Hey!" 

"Hey what?" He says, like it's the most normal thing in the world. 

"Creep." 

He laughs in his throat, lifting your skirt again for a final peek. 

"Can you blame me? I mean, look at this little white lace number, how I'm I supposed to control myself?" 

As you giggle, pulling your skirt down, the doorbell rings. 

"Ooh you're gonna get it later for this. I know what you're doing. You menace."

He takes long strides, aiming for the front door, and opens it with a single swing. 

"Eddie!" 

"Well, you would be first eh? Welcome, bro." 

Squinting at the doorway, all you can see is the shiny white plastic of a stormtrooper costume. 

A rather muffled voice emanates from the helmet. "Well, I've got to be on time, and meet this girl of yours. Good evening ma'am." He storms quite aptly into your apartment, sections of armour rapping with a dull noise. 

Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it. I'm gonna say it. 

"Aren't you a little short for a stormtrooper?" 

The man in front of you struggles out of the white helmet, shakes out a mane of curly brunette hair and announces to Eddie, "marry her. Immediately." 

Eddie laughs and swings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him so he can plant an affectionate kiss to your forehead. The stormtrooper pulls his white gauntlet off and gives you a keen but sweaty handshake. 

"Dustin. Dustin Henderson. I'm Eddie's best friend." 

"No you aren't." 

"Er, yeah I am. Duh." 

You laugh at their ongoing argument and gesture to invite him in. As he walks past, rambling about the size of the place and everything that Eddie's missed back home, you grip Eddie by the shoulder lightly, stealing his movements briefly. 

Keeping your voice low, just for him, you say "Just, before this all starts, I wanted to ask if there's anything you wanted later tonight? You know, special, for your birthday?" 

Eddie chuckles lowly as his hand engulfs your own. The other grips you firmly by the chin, forcing your doe eyes to meet his black steely glare, contacts magnifying his dominance. 

"Oh sweet thing, there's only one thing I want you to do tonight." 

Cocking your head with an unasked question, Eddie grins and bends to whisper hot breath in your ear. Just one word. One word is all he needs. 

"Obey." 

As quickly as it's said, he's gone, walking after Dustin with long strides, talking about back home. He's left you standing dumbly in the doorway; thighs clenched, mouth dry, with a hot blush creeping up your neck. 

Trying to take soothing, calm breaths, you walk back into the apartment on almost wobbling legs. That is until the doorbell goes again. This time, it's Eddie's bandmates and manager. 

The stream of party goers continues steadily and you spend your time meeting, greeting, dumping coats, and fixing drinks. The server within you goes on autopilot helping with every little thing. That is until you hear Eddie's laugh across the room, clear as a bell. 

He's standing with Dustin and some other guy you don't recognise. Thinking it was about time you checked in, you move to walk over when a snippet of their conversation stops you dead in your tracks. 

"So, I thought you were bringing Harrington? Haven't seen him in ages." 

"Well he was gonna, but Nance went into labour. Kid number six. Can you believe that?" 

"Six? Jesus H Christ, he doesn't mess around!" 

"Oh, he told me to ask you specifically, 'when is that freak gonna finally settle down and have kids?' His words, not mine, trust me!" 

Eddie chuckles. "Tell him, soon." 

It's as if someone had stabbed an icicle through your heart. All the blood drains from your face in absolute shock. Mouth gaping for a moment, you spin on your heel and make your way to your bedroom.

Closing the door to shut out the noise of the party, you perch on the end of the bed, trying and failing to gather your thoughts. 

Kids? Eddie Munson wants kids? There had been no inclinations, no hints at that at all. Honestly, you were so sure deep in the marrow of your bones that he didn't that you hadn't even thought to ask. 

Trying to gulp down the lump of panic that threatened to rise in your throat, you force yourself to stop your hands wringing and take deep breaths. This isn't the time to panic. This is the time to talk. 

Steeling your rattling nerves, you stand up in a false confident motion and make your way to the door, just as Eddie ploughs through it. 

"Sweet thing, I thought I saw you run in here. You good? Party too much?" A concerned hand cups your cheek in the gentlest manner, belying his outward demonic appearance. 

"I'm- I'm fine. Well, not fine, exactly." You huff, knowing it's too much for right now, but neither of you were going to feel peace until this conversation was had. 

"Come on then, what's up?" He perches lightly on the edge of your shared bed, patting the space next to him openly. 

You sit, hand automatically seeking his, entwining his digits with your own. Looking down at your conjoined hands you breathe, and breathe, and speak. 

"Listen, I get it, if you want kids I understand. It's just I know I've said I was good with marriage but kids are something I've never wanted myself and I know it'll come between us and if you want to end things I understand but I-" 

"Woah, woah there sweet thing, slow down. What are you saying?" 

You stop to breathe again, in an attempt to cease the incoherent rambling threatening to control your tongue.

"I'm saying if you want to break up with me I get it. I didn't know you wanted a family." 

A bubble of a chuckle spills out from Eddie's chest, making you flinch. How could he laugh at a time like this? You feel your cheeks flash with crimson fury. 

"I do not think it's funny Eddie." 

"Well I do, pretty girl." 

You whip your head to face him, rage threatening to broil over, staring incredulously. That is until he speaks. 

"I don't want kids sweets. Where's this come from?" 

You gape, mouth opening and closing like a caught fish. 

"I- what? You just said, to Dustin! You told him ‘soon’!" 

A full belly laugh consumes Eddie then, face creasing with the effort. You attempt to pull your hand from his in frustration but it just makes him grip on all the tighter. 

"I'm sorry, sweets, let me explain. I always say that to Steve. It's kind of an in joke. Any time he tells me I need to settle down and have kids, I always tell him 'soon'. He knows I don't want kids, I've told him enough times. I'm sorry, it's just a running gag. I didn't mean to upset you." 

"Well, now, now I feel stupid." You toss your head back to stare at the ceiling, willing the unnecessary tears to flee before they ruin your makeup. 

"Hey, you're not stupid. Look at me." 

Nothing could stop his ironclad voice gripping you and turning your head as if it were mechanical. 

"It's a misunderstanding. Glad we caught it before it got out of hand. I'm not letting you go sweetheart. You're worth way more than some imaginary kids." 

A weak smile dances across your lips. Eddie reaches out a calloused thumb to rub an errant tear away. 

"Look at you, pretty girl, getting all worried. C'mere." You crawl into his lap, swaddled in strong arms. Safe. 

Gripping your chin he tilts your face into an all encompassing kiss. The noise of the party lies forgotten outside, unimportant. Lips move sensually as one, tongues reaching out to stroke each other. 

Eddie pulls away gently, black contact-lensed eyes sparkling devilishly. 

"We best leave and get these presents out the way, or I'm never leaving this bedroom." 

He winks and helps you out of his lap gently, holding out a strong hand to help you to your feet. 

"Oh shit, sorry sweets." Pointing at your front, you follow his finger and notice the smudge of fake blood on the pristine white of your top. 

"Well, that was inevitable." Shrugging it off, you move your way to the door, turning to take in his taunt frame one last time in private, before you have to share him again. 

The next couple of hours whizz by in a whirlwind of Halloween music, pleasing platitudes and jaw aching smiles. The presents Eddie receives are vast and thoughtful, so much so that it makes you doubt your own gift.

Finally, he puts a 20 year old bottle of scotch to the side, a gift from John, his manager, and looks to open yours. Your heart sits heavily in your throat in anticipation.

Ripping the wrapping away, Eddie freezes in his tracks, hands hovering as if paused. 

Cringing at the awkwardness of the silence you can't help but attempt to fill it with meaning. 

"I know it's the same as the guitar you had to sell ages ago, and I just wanted it to be special, you know? So I asked John and he pulled some strings." 

The N.J series Warlock shines almost evilly in red and black, the erratically curved body glossily gleaming in the light. All apart from the matt black signature clearly on display. 

"Is this- is this Kirk Hammett's signature? As in, Kirk Hammett? Metallica's Kirk Hammett? How?" 

You blush at his piercing gaze, eyes looking down and away. 

"Well, I found the guitar, and John got in touch with their agent and I had a chat with their manager, told them how much of a fan you are, and sorted it all. Do you like it?" 

"You have no idea, sweets. That's the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. This is the best gift I've ever got. Thank you." He reaches out to compulsively stroke your knuckles with his rough fingertips, eyes glossing over. 

After another hour or so the party eventually dies down. The last to leave is Dustin, after several promises that you will both visit Indiana soon and participate in a Dungeons and Dragons one shot with the old Hellfire gang. 

At long last, the front door is shut, and all is silent. You let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding and walk towards the kitchen to start cleaning up. That is until a large hand wraps round the entirety of your wrist, stilling your movements immediately.

"What do you think you're doing, pretty girl?" 

A flush creeps up the expanse of your neck, threatening to spill out onto your cheeks. 

"I was- I thought I'd tidy up a bit, you know?" 

"Sweet thing, we can sort this out tomorrow, together. You need to get in the bedroom. Right now." 

For a moment you pause, a glass in each hand, halted in your activity. Eddie's large palm cups your cheek in the most delicate of manners. Hot breath permeates your space; a gust of suffocating heat that draws all air from your lungs. 

"Did I stutter?" 

You take in a sharp breath, eyes focusing on his firm gaze, his muscular frame, his horns. You place the glasses you're holding on the nearest sideboard and hustle your way to the bedroom. 

Perching feather light on the edge of the bed, you clench your thighs in anticipation, not daring to strip off any clothes, waiting for his say so. It's unclear exactly when Eddie's word became unimpeachable, yet here you were, unwilling to untie your shoe without his permission. If it were anyone else you may find it within you to be embarrassed, but it was Eddie. You trusted him with every fibre of your being. He had you listening to him without question, because of the respect you had both fostered for each other. Something about him giving orders pressed your thighs together with urgent need. 

The door swings open and Eddie strides in. You gaze up at him with wide eyes, staring at his muscular torso with inescapable want. Every nerve ending was singing with his previous word. Obey.

"Well look at you. Must be my birthday." Eddie smiles. It spreads across his face stickily, like warm wax and honey, drawing you in with its seemingly sweet demeanour. 

"What do you want from me baby?" You blink at him, eyes round and wet and innocent. 

"Well, I suppose you can make up for the teasing from earlier." He smirks and sits down on the edge of the bed, patting his knee in an effort to make you join him. 

Staring at him cluelessly, Eddie tires of your games and manhandles you into position. A gasp escapes your lips when you find yourself bent over his knee with your ass unceremoniously in the air, practically begging for his succour. 

Eddie flips your stark white skirt up to expose your lacy french knickers. 

"Well, look at these pretty, pretty things. Pity you were such a tease earlier. Five on each cheek, seems fair right?" 

A harsh breath expands your lungs in shock at his words. 

“You've never done that many before.”

“You’ve never deserved it before.”

"I wasn't, I wasn't that bad baby. Please." 

Eddie's laugh vibrates through the flesh of your thighs. 

"Oh sweet girl, I think you know how bad you've been. So just do what I told you to do and obey, or it'll be ten for each cheek, ok sweetheart?" 

Every fibre of your lower being threads together, tensing with the threat.

"Ok ok, I'm sorry baby." 

"Good girl. See, I knew you had it in you." 

He doesn't bother with further words, just spreads your ass over his thighs. 

The first is little more than a tap, a teasing gesture to warm you up to the idea. You lay across him as still as possible, trying to will your muscles not to clench. The second is harder, the third harder still. Then the fourth happens. A proper spank, you feel it deep in the muscle of your ass. As soon as his large hand makes contact an involuntary mewling noise escapes your lips, high pitched and whiny. 

“You OK sweet thing? Colour?” Eddie says, referring to your safe word system whilst rubbing softly over the impact, soothing away the sting. 

“Yes Sir, green.” 

Eddie lets out a self satisfied hum with the honorific. 

“There’s my good girl.”

The shock of the fifth strike rips a moan from your throat, laced with need. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you enjoyed that.” Eddie’s voice reaches you, laden with something akin to pride. 

“I mean maybe, a little.” You can’t escape the blush that reaches to the roots of your hair. 

“Maybe, huh? Want me to stop?”

“No!” You exclaim at once, all embarrassment forgotten.

Eddie’s deep laugh at your eagerness vibrates from his tensing thighs into the flesh of your stomach. 

“Atta girl, doing so good for me.” You try to control the way you want to squirm at the warmth of his words, face heating at the praise. 

Suddenly, he delivers two quick slaps to the other cheek making you tense up; a strangled shocked noise forces itself out of your mouth. Eddie chuckles, soothing the red mark with gentle touches. His hand slips under the fabric of your panties stroking at the tender skin. 

“Mind if I take these off, pretty girl?” 

“N-no, that’s fine.” you lift yourself in the air, allowing him to roll your underwear off. You can’t help but cringe at the way they stick to your aroused heat, clinging to your core with the evidence of your desire. 

“Fuck, these are soaked, sweet thing. I  knew you were into this.” He hums, pleased with himself, and delivers another sharp smack to your ass, eliciting a whine from you. “Just two more sweets. Are you gonna be good for me?” 

“Yes, please Eddie, please.” 

The final smacks come down hard; the sting ringing across your skin in a ripple of white hot pain that borders on pleasure. Your fingers curl tightly shut, eyes squeezing small tears out of the corners. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, all done. Such a good girl, taking it so well.” 

You clamber off his lap, wiping at an errant tear. Moving to sit, you wince at the contact of your sore skin on the mattress. 

“I’m sorry sweets, is it too sore? Here, get on your hands and knees for me. I need to taste my favourite thing.” He grins at you. 

“Don't you want me to look after you? It’s your birthday.” You frown. 

“No need to worry your pretty head about it, you know I want to.” 

Easing yourself into position, you baulk at the sudden feeling of his tongue running through your folds. This position feels different and dirty; you’re entirely exposed to him. At his mercy. 

Arching your back, you can’t help but push into his tongue, feeling his piercing run across you, slathering your cunt with his spit, making it even wetter than before. He slides it inside, fucking into you, before slipping out and running his tongue up to your ass. The unexpected feeling shakes you; being entirely inexperienced with any anal play you're surprised at how much you like it, how much your body wants to chase the feeling of his tongue. Moaning and shamelessly pushing back into him, you feel your core begin to ignite, threatening to blaze throughout your body. 

Feeling the coarseness of Eddie’s fingertips rubbing against your clit, your ceaseless mewling grows louder, warmth pooling in your belly. 

“Oh yes Eddie, please, don’t stop!” You plead, as if he were about to halt his movements. Nothing could have stopped him at this point; he was just as intent at pushing you over the edge as you were in falling over it. 

Eddie’s tongue continues to tease and lap at your hole as you struggle to keep upright, knees wanting to buckle from the sheer volume of sensations coursing their way through you. Your sounds are desperate and hoarse; you’ve been so loud it's straining your throat. 

Finally, the cord snaps and a wave of intense pleasure flows out of you, rippling over each nerve, winding its way over and around you, engulfing you in its warm glow. 

Unable to keep your own head upright, your body sinks into the mattress, ass up, in an obscene mannequin’s pose. You don’t find it in you to care, still coming down from the intensity of your orgasm. 

“That good for you, pretty girl?” 

You make a noise, almost an ‘uh huh’. Eddie chuckles and begins stripping off his clothes. You hear his jeans and shirt hit the floor with a soft noise. 

“I didn’t know you were into that; you’re just full of surprises, sweets. My filthy fuckin’ angel.” 

You turn to face him, sprawled out unceremoniously on the bed. You fling your arm underneath you in order to hold yourself as upright as you can manage right now. 

“Honestly, I didn’t know I was into that. You’re corrupting me, Mr Munson.” 

Eddie smiles like the devil himself. 

“Say it again.” 

Furrowing your brow, you glance at him with a questioning gaze.

“You’re corrupting me?” 

“Fuck, why is that so hot.”

He shakes his head, almost with disbelief, as he discards his underwear and lays down. He’s still wearing the horns, protruding from his head like some demonic entity. Seeing him laying there, with the black contacts still in, positively smothered with fake blood, dark tattoos and a thin sheen of sweat, you could almost believe he was a demon. You certainly weren't thinking angelic thoughts right now. 

“So, angel, you gonna strip for me?” Eddie’s smile is encumbered with his desires, teeth flashing crudely. 

Face flushing scarlet, you move to start taking your wings off. It’s Eddie’s turn to blush. 

“Can- can you keep those on? I kinda like the idea of fucking an angel.” 

Giggling shyly, you strip off entirely, and put the angel wings back on. You leave the halo too. He may as well get the full experience. 

“C’mere.” Eddie gestures with grabbing hands, asking you to climb on top of him. 

“Eddie I don’t think I-” 

“Just come here. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. Just want a good view.” 

You scramble unsurely onto his lap on wobbly legs, soaking wet heat rubbing against his throbbing member. Eddie’s large, rough palms massage calming motions into the fat of your hips, making you feel more secure. 

Sinking down onto his massive length, you bite your lip at the stretch, velvet quivering walls swallowing him whole; besmearing his length in your sticky slick. 

“Eddie, I-I can’t, my legs-'' Your bottom lip shakes, knowing you don’t have the strength to ride him like he deserves. 

“Hey, pretty girl, I’ve got you, it’s alright.” Each of his huge hands engulf your ass as he picks you up bodily and slams you back down against his pubic bone, cock buried deep within you, knocking all the air out of your lungs with the sheer force of the thrust. Your fake wings shake as if they were attempting to flutter towards the stars. Only it doesn’t stop. Eddie keeps slamming you into him, coarse pubic hair teasing your swollen clit, the hard thrusts feeling heavenly; each singular movement hitting that spot inside so deep it’s making you see God. 

“Oh my- Oh my God, yes!”

Your mewling cries are proliferating with each heavy propulsion into your sopping heat. Struggling to keep your head upright, you feel it lolling to the side, overridden by the utter depravity of each drive into your begging cunt. 

“That’s it, fuck yes, I’m your fuckin’ God now. Take it, my filthy fuckin’ angel. So tight for me.” Eddie’s thrusts into you increase in power, propelling into you with an obscene squelching sound. The fluttering of your satin walls only intensifies at his filthy words, sending a deep shudder into the depths of your core. Your walls uncontrollably twitch around his imposing length, shattering any hope you had of keeping composure. 

Without further warning, the dam breaks. An intense flow of celestial light traverses throughout your every vein, your pussy desperately clamping around him, threatening to never let go. This feeling, this majesty of enamour, is something you wish to never see the end of. The intensity of it shocks you to your very core and washes away all previous versions of yourself, leaving you with you; here and now, a you that nothing else could ever contend with. A you that is his; owned by Eddie, through and through. 

A few quick thrusts and Eddie is following you, painting your insides with the throbbing mess of his release. Sinking onto his chest, you snuggle close to him; fake blood and all. 

“Well sweets, we’re a fuckin’ mess.” Eddie chuckles, gesticulating at the myriad of bodily fluids and Halloween blood that coats you both. 

“I know, baby. Five more minutes?” You gaze at him with expectant eyes. 

“Anything for you, pretty girl. Plus, we should shower together. We've not crossed the bathroom off the list." He winks.

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

Today’s the day. One year since your impromptu date with Eddie. One year since you were unable to get this man off of your mind. One year since your life had been turned upside down, in the best of ways. 

“Sound check! Come on guys, let’s get this rolling!” 

You’d been hanging out backstage with Eddie and the rest of the band, helping them set up for what looks to be their most popular show yet. It hadn’t been the plan for your anniversary, of course. Eddie had made a point of letting you know that; but tour dates had changed and you had felt that it was easier for you to make a compromise than it was for the rest of the band, not to mention the hundreds of people watching them perform. 

Their band, Tongue Tattoo, had braced the edges of obscurity and were suddenly thrust into the limelight with relatively no warning, as these things often develop. The pride you felt when watching him perform was unmatched. Unfortunately, you couldn’t help the niggling need to have him to yourself on your anniversary, but knowing Eddie, you had no doubt in your mind that he would make up for it with alacrity. 

“Hey, sweet thing” 

Turning to face him, you see your gorgeous partner Eddie, kitted out in leatherette pants and a mesh shirt, looking as delectable as ever. 

“Hey baby” you envelop his lips with the sweetest kiss. 

“Can you do me a favour, pretty girl? The crowd’s just getting too big. Can you stay backstage? On the sides is fine, I just don’t want you near the pit. It’s too much.” 

You frown, but nod your agreement. It was a lot, and you wanted to stay safe, if only for him. 

“Atta girl. I’ll be looking for you, OK?” 

“Sure baby, I’ll be there.” 

He smiles warmly at you whilst planting a soft kiss to your knuckles. You can’t help but watch him walk away, eyes trained on the expanse of his muscled back. 

Feeling like a spare part, you do your best to stay out of the way of everyone trying to set up for the show. The intense, out of order shout of everyone attempting to execute roles to little effect was draining on you. 

“Hey, Eddie said you were staying backstage.”

John, Eddie’s manager, called out to you, an unlit cigar clamped firmly between his teeth. There was something a bit too slick, too neat about him, but you suspected this was just a trend of band managers. He had always been sweet to you, especially when fixing Eddie’s most recent gift. 

“John! Thank God, I’m sorry, I think I’m in the way.” You shrug, heat blossoming on the apples of your cheeks. 

“Not at all girl, all these guys are in your way, OK? Come stand over here, stage right, you can still see the show, and not be bothered by all these sweaty roadies, OK doll?” He flashes a greasy grin, proffering a hand. You take it gratefully and stand in the pre ordained spot. 

“Thanks John, I don’t wanna be in the way.” 

“Nonsense, everyone else is in the way! You wanna make it in Hollywood, you remember that.” He flashes a grin and moves off to tell someone how to do their job.

Giggling at his confidence, you attempt to manifest some of your own as the lights dim and the rumble of the crowd is thrown into overload. 

Stage lights flicker into life, yellow and purple and red, and you glimpse the side profile of the love of your life. His cheeky side grin, the shimmer off of his hair. His pulsating aura, spreading out and hitting everyone it comes into contact with. 

No matter how many times you see it, how many slightly different manifestations there were, you remain utterly enamoured with their show. The sounds, the sights, the theatrics; it drew you in every time, until your focus was irrefutably on Eddie, and Eddie alone. 

He glowed. There was no other way to describe it. He was a luminous being, not this crude matter. Every pore of his seemed to exude this all encompassing sexual energy which quickly drew you in and made you impervious to any other energies surrounding him. 

The show, as predicted, was phenomenal. Towards the end of the encore, you look to make your way on pre-programmed legs to Eddie’s dressing room, hovering further back from your viewing spot. He's pulling his guitar strap over his head and placing it down reverently; except, Eddie’s not leaving. 

"Who wants to meet the prettiest girl in the building?" Eddie's gravelly voice projects into the microphone. You blush profusely as he gestures to you. Reluctantly, you wobble forward, taking a few unsure steps so you're just in view of the crowd. There's a rumble of applause and cheers from the fans, waving and shouting at your presence. Glancing out at a sea of faces you can't help but feel overwhelmed.

Eddie reaches his hand out to give you an encouraging squeeze which you accept gladly. 

"Our last song is dedicated to you, sweet thing." 

The band starts playing a slow number which sounds vaguely familiar; you can't quite place it at first, until Eddie starts singing. 

"When you were here before

Couldn't look you in the eye

You're just like an angel…" 

It's Creep, by Radiohead. One of your favourite songs. You didn't even know he knew that. Their version is heavier; it has a bite, an edge to it. Paired with Eddie's husky singing it quickly becomes your favourite version. 

He winks at you, half of the time singing just for you, the other half playing up to the crowd. 

"But I'm a creep

I'm a weirdo!" 

You giggle as he shouts into the microphone, harsh voice juxtaposing the melodic sound of the verse before it. Finishing the chorus, he strides over to you and grabs your hand, guiding you gently to the front of the stage. 

"Eddie, what are you-" 

Dropping his voice, low and quiet, he stares into your eyes. 

"Whatever makes you happy

Whatever you want." 

There's a sparkle to his eyes, a softness that threatens to spill down his cheeks for the world to see. Then, he kneels in front of you, pulling a ring box from his shirt pocket. 

Time stops. Nothing as crass as seconds can possibly take place in this undying moment. The roar from the crowd echoes; rippling off the soundless bubble encompassing you both. It's trivial; barely registering. The moment stretches and lingers; you know it'll remain eternally in some way, an ouroboros; always there in your mind's eye. 

Realising you're holding your breath, you take in a ragged gulp of air. It triggers the gathering tears that start to fall from saturated eyelashes. 

"Sweet thing, you're so fuckin' special. You've left your mark on my heart, more permanent than any tattoo. I need you with me, for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?" 

"Yes, yes, of course!" You hurl yourself to his level, knees buckling, throwing your arms around his neck with abandon. 

Kissing and kissing and kissing him, he breaks away briefly. 

"Do you want to see the ring?" He chuckles into the mic, eliciting a ripple of giggles in the hall. 

Holding out your hand, he slides the ring onto your finger. A beautiful piece; it has a  white gold, almost vine-like band, with a stunning ruby set in the centre. It reminds you of a rose. 

"It's beautiful Eddie, thank you." 

Eddie grins, says "Thank you and good night" to the audience before abandoning the mic and scooping you up in his arms, taking you utterly by surprise. 

"Eddie! Jesus-" 

"Hold on, sweets, I need you." He smiles deviously at you, making his way across the stage with large strides to whisk you away somewhere private. 

You smile at his antics and fling your arms around his neck, nuzzling close. Some things, you hope, will never change. 

Masterlist

Tag list Part 1- rest in the comments due to Tumblr restrictions!

@angelsarecallin @cutiecusp @pxrxcxa @spencerinmydrawls @munsquinns @sillypurplemurple @tiannamortis @walleloveseve @sinczir @biblichornerd @frogers @lauraasiain @madiisixx @leftdonkeygothgoop-blog @rafestarkeysblog @kittykatvenom @southside-serpent-bae @psychedelicsandsunsalutations @biblichornerd @angelina16torres-blog

[agelessphotography]

A Thousand Cuts series, Sujata Setia, 2023

Derived from the ancient Asian form of torture “Death by a thousand cuts” or “Lingchi”, A Thousand Cuts is a series of portraits and stories that present a photographic study of patterns of domestic abuse in the South Asian community.

[archandshri]

28th June ‘24 - [arch] One Page Limitation??? - My process for Traffic Zine #5

Hello All!

A couple months ago, I got accepted to @trafficzine, a digital anthology of pieces by a large group of artists and writers based on the most recent season of the Life Series. I made this piece back in April, but thankfully I kept some notes of my process. 

Heads up - this contains spoilers for Secret Life :D

We were able to choose our own prompt from a list! For this project, I wanted to push my comic making - especially how to communicate a lot of information in a small space. I went through and watched a few clips from the series to see which prompt would fit a comic and settled on Scott’s death.

As usual, I began by getting some reference images and going ham on some big paper. This gets me excited about the project and helps generate ideas. I go for whatever interests me in terms of medium and subject matter, but I try to use a process that doesn’t let me control too much (in this case brush and ink)

initial sketches for fun and vibes :D

During this, I also took the time to transcribe the scene - I wanted to use the dialogue directly, and see how much I could fit into the single page that I was allowed for the zine.

In these early planning stages I make sure to do warm-up sketches to remind myself of the energy I want to communicate. This also keeps things fun and fresh so I'm not ONLY thinking about page composition and making things 'good'. (the expectation for it to be 'good' kills a project prove me wrong)

Dialogue from the clip + warm up sketches

Next up, I started to plan what panels I have on the page. At this stage, some panels might just be a box with some words, and some may have a sketch if I have a clear composition in mind. This stage is mostly for pacing and plot, so instead of focusing on what the panel and page will look like, I will think about:

what will happen in the panel

it's purpose and

what it will communicate

Sometimes I'll illustrate a string of panels that tell the story and fit them on a page after - but this depends on the project and my confidence with the size of it.

After messing around with these and coming up with a pretty clear direction, I draw a bunch of boxes to see how the panels could sit nicely together. At this stage I might realise I have too many panels, and need to cut a few or come up with a creative solution. Nothing is set in stone at this point.

sketching panel layouts

Now begins the fun! I decide on the layout I prefer and I can start putting planned compositions into the boxes. I often do this digitally, or a digital editing process will be involved.

Once planned, I print these out to do a more refined sketch over. I find that my traditional drawings have a lot more life and character to them than digital ones, so I try to keep the majority of the process traditional, with passes of scanning and digital editing.

I tried a version with her looking out at the distance - ready to face the oncoming battle. But it still felt off. So I turned to my slides to ask myself some questions!!

I tried to think of more things that were working - but I really felt like it was lacking a lot. I was going for this slower emotional feeling because that came more naturally to me, but it just wasn't working for this image. The original clip is quite rushed and chaotic - which would be harder to communicate in a comic format but the challenge interested me. Either way, I knew I wasn't happy with this direction so... i decided to start from scratch! Back to the drawing board!!!

In the previous version, I had cut out a lot of the dialogue, but I decided to go back to the original clip and use AS MUCH as possible. Since passing the bow was my favourite part of that first composition, I really wanted to lean into it as the emotional height and final goodbye before Scott's death. It's a moment to slow down and absorb the vibes :D

I made a list of panels along with their descriptions to refer to when trying to figure out the order of panels. there were SO MANY and it was VERY CONFUSING when they were too small to read.

These thumbnails were super small and would not have made sense without my list, I swear.

I printed this tiny thumbnail out at A4, so I could sketch over it and get a clearer sense of flow. Then began a loooong process of printing out tiny photocopies and rearranging the panels to be legible. It was a difficult balance of communicating busyness while making sure the hierarchy/reading order made sense.

After some tweaking, i printed out an A3 copy to draw my panel borders and text.

Doing this on a separate piece of paper means I don't have to worry so much about messing up the text or borders when drawing the characters. This allows me to be more free and expressive with my illustration.

Woah! Quick trip back in time!! During the thumbnailing process I drew these warm up sketches! I looooved the way the linework came out. I drew this on an A3 piece of paper - and the shocked Gem would, in theory, be one of the smallest panels. So I decided to do a crazy thing.

I touched up the sketch digitally, compiling some of my favourite warm up sketches, some traditional sketches made for the panels, and filling the rest in digitally. Then I printed this image out in QUATERS at A3!! This meant the final sketch layer, printed out was A1!! (aka very large, considering the final file would be at A4, about 8x smaller)

I did this so I could get fairly small detailed lines with my pencil while being quite expressive and firm with my mark-making. Slowly, I dlined all of the panels traditionally and scanned them in. Then I assembled the finished linework on Photoshop, along with the text and panel borders and got to colouring :D

final linework :D

For colouring, I played a little bit with halftone but I found the texture made it feel a bit too busy - the panels are already doing enough. Because of this, I also decided to use a limited colour palette. Here are some images of the colouring process, which I won't go into today.

I'm really happy with how this came out - I think it captures the chaos of the moment, while taking time to linger on the emotion of it. Keeping that bow moment really made it, I think.

I think the last panel is still quite weak. Earlier in the process there was a low-angle shot of Gem about to kill Scott which may have been more powerful, but I think I was struggling with my actual drawing skill when it comes to perspective. A lot of learning how to draw, and in particular with comics, is about knowing where your skills are at, how to utilise them best and how to test and push them.

I'm glad that I started again, instead of finishing that composition I wasn't happy with. It was a tough project but I learnt sooooo much from it, and it's been essential skill-building for.... the current comic I'm working on (stay tuned!!! :0) Thanks for reading this incredibly long post! Go check out @trafficzine and look at all the other cool art Cool vibes and silly men,

Archie :D

[e-dubbc11]

i can already tell that baby boy dylan is gonna be a menace like his father before him 😭 i cannot wait for the toddler years where billy has to fight his own damn son for a snuggle with his wife 😂 and then baby raven just comes in snuggles with reader, totally ignoring her dad and baby brother 😂

alsooooo,i just thought about this but what do you think will happen if dylan grows up and adapts a heartbreaker reputation??? we all know the kids got good dna 😂 they look good and they know it 😂

Hello my friend!

I came up with a little something for you, I hope you like it and as far as the second part of your ask, I have something else that’s almost done as a part of another ask. But I hope you enjoy this! ♥️

The Fight for Her Affection

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Billy Russo x F! Reader, plus their little firecrackers, Anna Raven and Dylan

Warnings: maybe a swear word or two, pure fluff

Word Count: 1.3K-ish

Summary: Part of The Sweetest Pain Series. Rest of the series linked HERE. Someone in the Russo family is very possessive of you at the moment and it’s not your husband. Your baby boy just loves to snuggle with his mom and Billy is feeling a little left out.

You and Billy had a couple of rules when it came to the kids sleeping in your bed with you which was it was only allowed when they were sick or for a few minutes in the morning before getting ready for the day.

If they got scared or they couldn’t sleep, you or Billy would get up, put them back to bed, and stay with them until they fell asleep. They both needed to learn to sleep in their own rooms and beds but you’d always be there to help them if they needed it.

Most of the time, all it would take is a short story or a song to get them to fall asleep. But there were other times where you would end up falling asleep in their rooms before they did. Little Raven very rarely had nights where she couldn’t fall asleep or had bad dreams.

Dylan on the other hand when he was around two, almost three, years old was famous for wanting all of your time including when you all were supposed to be sleeping. That little boy would test your patience almost nightly between not wanting to go to bed and telling you he was “scared” to go to bed.

What made it worse was Dylan never wanted Billy to read him a story, sing him a song, or even sit with him in the rocking chair to try and get him to go back to sleep. “Want Mommy, not Daddy,” Dylan would say, shaking his head. It made Billy slightly upset for a couple of reasons; the number one reason being he wanted to be able to comfort his son but also he wanted to be able to sleep next to his wife at night, not wake up to find you out of bed and asleep with little Dylan, also asleep, on your chest.

But he did love catching those little mother and son moments where the warm soft glow from the lamp delicately showed off the angles and features of both of your faces which made him smile. As he leaned against the doorframe, he folded his arms across his chest and just gazed at the two of you fondly before trying to get you to come back to bed.

While Anna Raven’s physical features favored you and Billy equally, little Dylan was a carbon copy of his father from the wild ebony hair to the glass like obsidian colored eyes and he already had the heartbreaker smile perfected.

Some of the women that worked at the kids’ daycare commented to you that Dylan was already a little flirt and knew exactly how to smile to get his way every time which made Billy proud and nervous at the same time.

He would always watch you for a few minutes before gently waking you by kissing your temple and whispering, “Our son gets to cuddle with you more than I do, ya know. Come back to bed, sweet girl.”

Billy’s tone is lighthearted and fun but you know there is some truth to it and feel bad that your husband feels a little neglected lately. After you gingerly placed Dylan in his bed, you turned to Billy and said, “I’m so sorry baby. Come on, I’ll make it up to you.”

You both feel better after a decent night’s “sleep.” Finding time to be alone with each other after having two kids was a little more difficult but with the help of family and friends, the two of you seemed to make it work.

Waking up to Billy’s kisses on your shoulder always brings a smile to your face but he has to stop because you hear the sounds of four little feet bolting down the hallway. Little Raven helped Dylan out of his crib/bed every morning so they could jump into bed with you, mostly on weekends when you could sleep in a little.

Without a word, she would wedge herself in between you and Billy, silently demanding her own snuggle time with you. Your little girl was very smart and she figured out that Dylan needed your attention at night so she would get her hugs, snuggles and love in during random times of the day. And in the evening, she loved spending time with her father reading, coloring, or watching a movie.

Watching Dylan develop his personality, Billy mentioned the traits he had picked up from you like he had a very big heart, he loved all animals, he was funny, and actually both of your kids had the tendency to be “little firecrackers,” a term of endearment he called you when you were being a little bit feisty.

One of Billy’s traits that he thought he had passed on to his son was that Dylan had a tendency to be a little possessive whether it be with his toys or his mother. You could never force Billy to talk about things if he didn’t want to but you always knew that it bothered him slightly when Dylan preferred you over Billy.

“It’s almost like he doesn’t want me near you, baby.” Billy had finally said in a frustrated tone when it bothered him enough. “Which I guess I understand because I don’t like other men near you either. So this is my fault, really.”

You called Anna over, “Little Raven, can you play with your brother for a minute please? I need to talk to Daddy.”

“Ok Mommy, come on Dylan.” Anna Raven took Dylan by the hand and brought him over to her little table where she liked to draw and color.

You laced your fingers with Billy’s, led him into the kitchen and made sure Anna and Dylan were playing nicely before starting a deep conversation.

Cupping his cheek with your hand, you looked up at him through your long dark lashes and brushed the bristles of his beard. You could feel the tension in his body and watched his jaw clench in frustration as he tried to avoid looking at you.

“Billy…look at me please.” You said affectionately. “Baby, Dylan is a toddler. He’ll learn just like Anna learned to share. All little ones go through that stage, my love. Are you upset because he’s doing it to you?”

Billy nodded. You could see that he didn’t think he would have fight for your affection with his own child and he felt guilty that he was having these feelings.

“I swear he has the same look in his eyes that I get when I see another man checking you out. I’m his father!” Said Billy.

You inched closer to Billy, snaked your arms around his neck and he pulled you in close by your waist. Touching your forehead to his, Billy closed his eyes to relish in the physical contact with you, his wife, and the love of his life.

“You’re right Billy. You ARE his father and it’s your job, well our job, to teach our son to be a decent human being just like we’re teaching Anna. WE are the boss of HIM. If he’s old enough to start pushing back, then he’s old enough to start getting punished for his actions. So it’s time to start teaching him that kind of behavior is not acceptable, ok?” You said, holding his gaze.

“I will say, it’s a little funny, I’m a grown man being iced out by my toddler who won’t let me near my own wife.” Said Billy with a slight chuckle. “We’re the boss of him, huh?”

“Yes, we are…to both of our children. I’m not raising them to be little assholes.” You said with a warm smile. “And Billy?”

“Yeah baby?” Asked Billy.

“It’s not always a bad thing to be possessive of the ones you love.” You said, gently pressing your lips to his. “I love you, handsome.”

“I love you too, sweet girl.” Billy whispered, returning your kiss. Parting your lips with his tongue, you dissolved completely into his kiss as your tongue intertwined with his.

From the living room, you heard Anna calling for you.

“Mommy!! Dylan took my cray-on!!” She yelled.

You and Billy laughed.

“Well, time to go give him a lesson in sharing. You ready? Dad?” You asked.

Billy winked at you and replied, “Let’s do it, baby.”

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @fakehappy27 @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @celestialend @nutmeg17 @k-marzolf @vaguekayla @rosaleenablack @danzer8705 @qu1etwolf @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @aoi-targaryen @rachlovesactors

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[thecitybee]

Meat-eating orchids Forgive no one just yet

portrait study of The Female of the Species

✨ 🐝 Commissions | Instagram | Buy Prints 🐝 ✨

[msgexymunson]

Rumour Part 5: Ready

Description: After your love confession, you're wondering if Eddie feels the same. Something happens to make him see how special you are to him.

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI this isn't for you bbys, the usual trifecta of angst, smut and fluff, brief violence (not between reader and Eddie) L bombs, brief male and fem oral receiving, p in v unprotected sex

A/N: this is the penultimate part!! I'll be sorry to see this version of Eddie go, I'm so happy you lot liked him as much as I do! If you enjoy this, please comment and reblog if you like it, it seriously makes my day reading your comments ❤

5.8k words

Masterlist    Part 1    Part 2    Part 3   Part 4

Sitting at your dressing table, you claw your hair into a sensible ponytail, fussing with the fluffy bits that stick out the sides. You really weren't in the mood to put a full face of makeup on, so you just apply mascara and lip gloss. It helped with tips.

Sighing into the room, you pout, attempting to stare down your own reflection, your mind wandering to the sticky dark cloud that clung to you. Intrusive thoughts had grabbed you and refused to let go for a week now. Black tar thoughts; slow moving, bitter and impossible to remove.

You hear your front door open with a rustle of leather and a creak of boots.

"Hey baby." You call out of the door frame, still fixated with your countenance in the mirror.

"Hey sweet thing, you good?" Eddie's voice is higher than usual and bursting with barely concealed excitement.

You don't trust your words, sensing they'll betray you, so you settle with a nonchalant "uh huh. You?"

"Pretty girl, I've got something to tell you."

You're sure your ears would have swivelled towards him if they could, heart suddenly inflating in hope. You turn to him, taking in his beaming face.

"What is it?"

He's pacing your room at this point, telling you what's clearly been dying to burst out of his chest, words manifesting with undeniable glee.

"Well, you remember that band we saw?" You nod, shoulders dropping, heart sinking again.

"The guitarist came into my shop for a tattoo, right, and told me they've had a falling out with the front man, Bill or Buck or whatever. Anyways, we got talking and I told him I could sing, and one thing lead to another- well guess where I just came from? Their managers office, I'm in! They want me as a front man! They're going to change the name, and obviously we need to practise and stuff, but I'm gonna be in a band! With a manager! Isn't that awesome?"

He squats by where you're sitting, grasping your hands in his. You've never seen his eyes more alive. His coarse thumbs rub circles into the backs of your delicate hands.

You do your best to swallow the lump in your throat, the disappointment bitter on your tongue. This clearly means the world to him, and you are pleased for him, truly. A smile adorns your face, warm and loving, even if it doesn't reach your eyes.

"I'm so happy for you Eddie." Leaning forward  you press a soft kiss to his mouth as a distraction. He smiles against your mouth.

"It's gonna be great sweets, for both of us." You can't help but scoff slightly at his comment but he doesn't seem to notice, instead moving to mouth at your throat, nibbling at your ear.

"Eddie what are you doing?"

"I'm happy," he says, sucking at the pressure point in your neck, making you stifle a moan, "I need you."

You laugh mirthlessly "well, do you know what I need?" The words have more bite than intended, an edge to your voice that's razor sharp, cutting through the room and changing the ambiance in a heartbeat.

Eddie's taken aback, leaning on his heels. "What do you need sweets?"

"I need-" not now, not now, he's so happy, just drop it. "I need to go to work." You finish lamely.

"I can drive you, I'm not working tonight."

"It's fine, Eddie, I could use the walk."

You stand, wrenching yourself away from him and his soft eyes. Marching into the living room you perch on the sofa to put your shoes on. Eddie's propped up in the doorway, frowning at you.

"I don't like you walking at night on your own."

You laugh at him, the sharp sound nipping; it has teeth. "Eddie it's 7 o'clock. I'm a grown ass woman, I'll be fine. Can't you trust me to look after myself?"

"It's not like that sweets and you know it." Long strides cut you off from the front door, his arms folded.

"I just need some space. Fresh air." You stand up to leave, but Eddie's about as immovable as a mountain; all rocky arms and stony glare.

"Can I leave? I'm gonna be late."

"I said, I'll drive you." He's towering over you, broad and intimidating.

You stick your chin out, mustering your courage.

"And I said no." You push past him but he holds your upper arm with a firm hand.

"Sweet thing what's this about?" He ducks down to your height, searching your face for clues.

Your eyes are glossy, vision beginning to blur. "You know exactly what this is about."

Eddie steps back, releasing your arm. "Sweetheart, I..." he trails off, arms falling to his sides. "I don't know what to say."

"Then don't. Lock the door when you leave."

You ignore further wordless protests from him and pull your front door open, not bothering to close it as you march into the biting cold, struggling to put your coat on as you go. You refuse to look behind you, knowing he's outlined in your doorway, watching you leave.

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

The bar is a bustling, chaotic mess when you get there. It's unusual, but you're very welcome for the distraction. You serve drinks, run around collecting glasses, and make yourself as busy as possible.

Nothing can quiet the dark voice inside your head.

You're an idiot. Why didn't you just talk to him? You're acting like a brat. No wonder he doesn't treat you like a woman.

As soon as you push any of your self deprecating thoughts aside however, more comments run through your head like a freight train.

Him not treating you like a woman is not your fault. He said it already, he called you a play thing. Maybe that's how he sees you? But why would he do all that for your birthday if he doesn't care about you? Why won't he just say it?

You stop for a second behind the bar, pinching the bridge of your nose. Maybe if you pinch hard enough the thoughts will go away.

"Hey darlin', you ok?"

Looking up, you're met with the ashy mop of hair and concerned eyes of Matt.

"Hey, sorry just real busy tonight, what can I get you, the usual?"

"Yeah, and a glass of red for the lady."

You look over his shoulder and see the unmistakable blonde hair and, well, physique, of Estelle.

"Oh, are you two-"

"Together, yeah." He beams at you.

"Aw that's real sweet, happy for you," you smile back, "hey you know there's a free booth over there, there's a reserved sign on it but it doesn't look like they're coming. Just, collect some glasses for me, ok?"

"Sure thing sweets." You flinch at that; continuing to get him his order.

After a while the hubbub dies down and your manager leaves you to lock up. It's just you and four drunks, and Matt and Estelle sucking each other's faces like there's no tomorrow.

Shouting last call, they're ushered out of the bar, leaving you to lock up. You think about calling Eddie to come get you, then remember how you left. Guilt twinges your stomach.

This is stupid.

You pick up the phone and call his number, nerves bubbling in your gut. After four rings, it defaults to voicemail. There's no way he's asleep already. He clearly doesn't want to speak to you.

Grabbing your belongings you leave, locking the front door behind you. You stomp briskly in the direction of home, trying to move fast to avoid the cold, your breath fogging in the air.

You're so lost in thought that the first time you see the two men in front of you is when you walk head first into one of them. Shock shakes you; a sharp cold breath shoots into your chest. Nearly falling, you teeter until one of them grabs you by the arm.

"Woah, falling for me are you?" He laughs perniciously, helping you get your balance. You look up at a tall, gruff looking man, wearing a dirty Demin jacket. A rough, wanton demeanour radiates from him. Dangerous. He keeps his hold on your arm despite your pleading eyes.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."

The other guy speaks up, moving to stand behind you. Crowding you; a silent threat, an escape blocked.

"You ought be more careful." Every word seems heavy and considered, like it was an effort to string a sentence together. You could smell the booze from here.

"Look, I'm sorry ok, I've got to go." You go to pull your arm free but he just grips you tighter.

"Seems you owe us a proper apology. Hot young girl like you, you should come with us."

Fear stabs you in the stomach; a red hot knife falls through your guts, twisting and cauterising as it goes.

"Yeah, we're havin' party." The man behind slurs out. You feel an unwelcome hand travel to your waist, flesh crawling with horripilation.

"Hey, let go of me!" You move to punch with your free arm but it's instantly pinned to your side by the gruff man in front of you. Hot alcohol breath is in your face, making you cringe and scrunch your nose up, panic gripping you as tightly as his hands.

Suddenly the hand on your waist is wrenched loose and you hear a dull thud. A shadow is cast over your shoulder, blocking the street light. You try to open your mouth to ask for help when a familiar low voice growls out.

"Don't you dare lay your fuckin' hands on the woman I love."

You see a blur, and hear a sick thud. It sounds wet and crunchy. Unable to process what's happening you stand there, frozen in shock. There's a scuffle, but it sounds underwater; after a while a firm hand guides you to an open car door. You smell cigarettes, and weed, and Aramis aftershave. Eddie.

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

The next thing you're aware of is Eddie's apartment, Eddie's couch, safety; a blanket over your shoulders and a mug of something hot being placed into your waiting hands.

Eddie's crouching in front of you, hand with roughened bloodied knuckles stroking your arm so, so gently.

Your eyes refocus and there he is, chiselled jaw clenched, brown eyes filled with worry, blood running down the side of his face.

"You're bleeding Eddie." Placing the mug down with shaking hands, your fingers come up to his face.

"Fuck, you're ok." He collapses to his knees, pulling you in for a tight squeeze. Both of his arms encapsulate you, hands splayed against your back, holding you close.

His voice is muffled as he continues, speaking into your abdomen. "I was so worried when you wouldn't say anything, I didn't know what to do."

He pulls back enough so you can look down at his face. To your shock, tracks of tears run down his cheeks, shining in the light.

"Baby, you're crying." Your brows knot as you stare in the face of this dishevelled man in front of you.

He wipes his nose with the back of his hand and half laughs, "yeah, seem to be doing a lot of that tonight."

Your heart breaks at that remark, splintering at the thought of causing him pain. Standing up, Eddie stands too, holding onto your shoulders.

"What are you doing sweets?"

"Sit down I need to clean you up."

"No don't worry you sit-"

"Eddie, you're bleeding."

He finally sits down, holding his hands up in submission.

Fetching a first aid kit, a wash cloth and a bowl of warm water, you sit next to him on the couch and clean the blood off of his face, grateful to have something to do.

"I think you need stitches baby." You frown at the cut on his eyebrow.

"No it's fine, eyebrow cuts just bleed a lot. Trust me, I used to get beat up all the time." You give him some cotton wool so he can hold it against his eyebrow to try and stop the bleeding.

Taking his bear paw of a hand in yours, you gently take his rings off and dab lightly at the blood marks with the cloth, water in the bowl turning murky.

"Did you mean it?" Practically a whisper, knowing your voice will break if you say it any louder.

"You remember that huh?" He chuckles, still holding the cotton to his brow.

"Pretty hard to forget Eddie." On cleaning his hand it looks like most of the blood isn't his.

"Pretty shitty way to hear it for the first time. I'm sorry, I'm a stupid asshole." He huffs, looking down.

"Hey," his eyes meet yours, red raw and soft. "You're not an asshole."

"So I'm just stupid yeah?" He flashes a lopsided grin.

"Hey, you said it not me." He chuckles at that.

You gesture for him to move the cotton wool. The bleeding has stopped. You go over it with an antiseptic wipe and bandage it for him.

"You know, I tried to call you, for a ride. And I felt awful. I'm sorry. I should have spoken to you."

"Well, I felt awful too. I thought you didn't want to see me, so I waited outside the bar and tailed you home."

"Wow," you giggle, impressed by his chivalry, "I'd call you a creep but you saved me. So, thank you."

"Anything for you sweet thing." You blush at that.

"You're so fuckin' cute. I just, I'm sorry. And for the record, I don't fight, not really, but I saw them touching you and I just lost it. Can I explain a little?"

You nod, feeling your eyes already start to fill with tears. He takes your hands in his, looking at you dead in the eye.

"I'm not used to people wanting me. I'm not used to people staying, you know? Everyone always leaves me. I thought if I distanced myself a little, it would help, when you realised you were too good for me and left. When you realised I was too old for you."

Your heart swells, filled with love for this soft, vulnerable boy.

"Eddie, when have I ever mentioned your age? Or mine? I don't care. You are good, you're spectacular. You're mine. I love you."

"Pretty girl, I love you too."

Rough hands meet soft cheeks, chapped lips meet smooth. Crushing your lips together, you sigh in contentment, kissing the man you love.

His tongue laps into your mouth, softly massaging yours. You feel the chime of steel against steel. He quickly pulls away.

"Shit can I kiss you yet, I'm sorry I forgot-"

"It's fine Eddie, please." You press your mouth against his eagerly, tongue pushing into him. You take turns massaging each others tongues with your studs. It's sensual in a way you can't describe, an infinite connection, the sensation leaving you both breathless. Every movement conveyed with a lasting passion, an adoration for the ages.

His fingers start fumbling at your shirt, unbuttoning it slowly. He breaks away from you so he can start trailing hot little kisses all over your collar bone.

"Can I take you to the bedroom? I want to take my time with you."

You nod, biting your lip in anticipation. He doesn't scoop you up in his arms, like he does when he's desperate. He simply stands up and holds his hand out to you. You take it, allowing him to lead you gently to the bedroom.

You both perch on the edge of the bed, hands sweeping over torsos, ridding each other of your shirts. Each inch of skin displayed earns a kiss, each kiss earns another. Soft fingers trace tattoos, calloused hands rub warm flesh.

Time is inconsequential; nothing as crass as time could possibly invade this moment. You explore each others bodies as if it were the first time; touching, stroking, kissing.

Dragging your nails down his naked chest procures you a hiss through his teeth. You smirk, planting open mouthed kisses over every patch of skin, guiding him to lie back with your delicate palm. He complies, resting one arm under his head, the other hand stroking softly at the back of your head.

Unbuttoning his jeans, you pull them down slowly along with his underwear, stopping to kiss at the apex of his toned thighs. No matter how many times you see it, you can't help but think how pretty his dick is. Huge and girthy, resting against his stomach, flushed nearly purple at the tip, leading to the heavy steel bar though the slit.

You press little teasing kisses up the shaft and down the sides, watching it twitch at your ministrations. When you lick all the way up and circle the tip he practically whimpers; the steel of his piercing hitting the metal ball in your mouth.

Moving to rid yourself of your jeans he stops you to do it himself. Laying you down just where he was, he inches them down so, so slowly, kissing and licking at each inch of your exposed skin. The sensations building are progressing straight to your molten core, lava threatening to bubble out at all his small, careful, gentle touches.

Kneeling between your legs, thick digits trace the outline of your heat, spreading around your growing wetness. He leans over you, lips brushing your own, leaving paper trace kisses, his nose whispering against the side of yours.

"You're so beautiful like this. My beautiful good girl. I love you so much it fuckin' hurts."

With that, he sinks two large fingers into your pussy, gliding through your slick easily. You grasp at his biceps, mouth forming a silent gasp, heavily lidded eyes seeking his.

"I love you Eddie, you're- you're everything."

Eyes shining, he kisses the tip of your nose, the movements of his hand slow and soft.

You whine at his touches, gasping breaths escape your lungs as you stare into his eyes. He quickens his pace but you still him with a squeeze of your hand.

"Please, baby."

He knows what you need. Moments later he's between your legs, hard length rubbing against your folds.

"Like this, ok sweet thing?" A rough thumb pad strokes against your cheek as your breaths intermingle.

"Yes, please."

He smiles and pushes into you, diffusing the gentlest kisses over your forehead, cheeks, lips.

The feeling of being filled by him never ceases to amaze you. You feel him, in every pore, every cell. You open to him, exposed and vulnerable. Staring into his eyes you see him, really see him. He's just as exposed, just as vulnerable. Stroking at his cheek, you peck him lightly on the lips, allowing him to move.

Your bodies meld together, hips meeting in perfect unison. You feel his muscles tensing against your own; inked skin rippling against you, rose hip tattoo sliding against his skin.

Hooking your legs around him, you pull him deeper, and deeper. Your moans crest in a wave of longing, loud and lascivious. He smirks at the volume of your want, giving you exactly what you need. The bubbling heat of your release overflows, pouring out of your heat and into the universe, the feeling stretching and lasting forever; you and Eddie, an eternity in a moment.

Quivering and gasping, you make it back to this plane of existence, grasping at the roots of Eddie's hair in fear that you'll float away, begging with your eyes for God knows what. He takes one of your shaking hands in his own, lapping at your fingertips with his pierced tongue, deft kisses bringing you back to the here and now.

Smiling against your fingers when he sees you've made it back to him, he cages you in the unassailable fortress that is his arms; safe and warm and loved.

He holds you, large hand nearly encompassing your thigh, keeping you close as he moves against you. Both of you are glistening, the very aura around you pulsing in a crimson cloud of passion.

You're surrounded, engulfed and taken by him. There is nothing else except Eddie; this beautifully broken man, with his barely contained ardour, and his fragile soul.

You feel him speed up, mouth beginning to hang open, chasing his release. Pressing soft kisses to him, you map out your love over his cheek and jaw. He presses his forehead to yours, wide eyes locking, as he releases inside of you. Burly arms cling to you as he falls from that precipice, a tight embrace of consummation. The steady panting of his chest presses into you, wordless for a moment.

"Well, that was... intense" he chuckles softly into the skin of your neck, overridden by sheer joy. You stroke the back of his head.

"Yeah I know baby, same."

"Can we just stay like this? For a while?" The roundest doe eyes gaze at you.

"Of course we can. Just like this."

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

Three months later and you're squeezing your way past giggling girls and denim clad men trying desperately to get to the backstage area, clutching a bottle of Jack Daniels to your chest. You're honestly impressed, this is the biggest crowd you'd seen them play for; there had to be a couple hundred people in this place at least.

After a few starter shows in dive bars, and a lot of practises, they were playing their first official gig as their rebranded band, Tongue Tattoo.

When Eddie had first told you the name you were very confused, staring up at him with an empty furrowed brow, wide eyes innocently gaping.

"But Eddie, you don't have a tongue tattoo."

"That's not what it means sweets."

"But what could it possibly-" Eddie flicked his tongue in an obscene gesture towards you, making you blush profusely.

"Eddie you can't call your band after-"

"-eating pussy? Why not? You seem to enjoy it." All smug grin and wandering hands as he pulled you in.

Thinking about it, it did seem appropriate. It was filthy, and sexy, and very Eddie.

Finally wiggling your way past some biker types in leather jackets you see two bouncers in front of you. Thankfully they remembered you, allowing you to pass with a nod and a wink.

You shuffle through the door, pulling down the front of your too short skirt with one hand, desperately clinging to the bottle with the other. Smoothing down the wrinkles in your top you let out a sigh of preparation and move down the narrow corridor into the back stage area.

If you could call it that. Bare brick and old sofas, a broken amp being used as a side table in the corner, cigarette butts on the floor. The room was swamped in smoke and noise; music playing from a beat up stereo, guitars being tuned, a couple of giggly girls hovering near the drummer trying to get his attention whilst he was in deep conversation with Anthony, the bass player.

Eddie's hunched over his guitar, fiddling with the strings, when Rich the guitarist nudges him. He looks up and sees you, eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree.

"Well, my pretty girl, holding a pretty bottle. What you doing fetching drinks? You don't need to do that sweets." You're drawn in to the warmth of his smile, hands grabbing to pull you in by the flesh of your hips, guitar pinched awkwardly between you both.

"I wanted to. It's a gift for you and the guys. For good luck." He grins whilst you pull yourself away for a moment, grabbing some loose glasses on the side and handing out a shot for each of them.

"Hey, don't forget yourself sweet thing."

"Oh I'm not-"

"-part of the band? Pretty girl, you've been to every practise, every dive bar, helped with equipment. Come on." You flush at his words but pour yourself a drink anyway.

Toasting to the band, you knock the bourbon back, relishing the burn.

The band are called and you move to leave to support them front and centre of the crowd, but Eddie has you by the wrist.

He pulls you in roughly, and speaks low and sultry in your ear.

"And don't think I didn't notice this tiny skirt," he says, grabbing you by the ass. Then his voice lowers further, almost a growl, just for you.

"When the show ends I'm going to fuckin' ruin you."

His words flood through you, leaving chaos in their wake. You're all wide eyes and clenched thighs.

Flashing you a grin and a wink as if nothing happened, he allows you to leave. You gape for a moment, then remember yourself and find your way out of the room and to the front of the crowd, elbowing your way to your place.

A couple of fans notice you and move out of your way. One guy even pulls you in front of him so you can see. No one wants to upset Eddie.

And suddenly it's all lights and noise as they come on stage and you see your beloved once again in all his glory. This is where he's supposed to be. You knew it the first time you'd seen him perform. He prowls across the stage as if he owns it, as if it were made for him.

They whip the crowd into a frenzy, playing a mixture of original songs and covers. The style you recognise from that night you'd seen the band without Eddie leading them, but now they had an edge. It was darker, sexier. As always he brought this undeniable sin to the table that sent the crowd crazy.

And that was all before he unbuttoned his shirt.

Girls screamed. Hell, some guys screamed. Eddie laughed deep into the microphone, and you noticed a splash of colour on his chest, deep red, that wasn't there before. There's an unnatural shine to it. You squint and finally figure out it's a plastic layer; he must have gotten a new tattoo, just over his heart. It's not until he finishes a song, taps the pop of red twice and points directly at you, that you see what it is.

It's a rose, almost identical to your own. The permanence of the act makes tears prickle behind your eyes, a gush of feeling flooding your heart.

Almost as suddenly as the show starts, it's over. The energy in the room is palpable, electrifying. It was definitely a good gig; you're certain the band are going to be pleased.

Pushing and shoving your way backstage, you get there just as Eddie does.

"Baby that was incredible!" 

He picks you up in his large hands and spins you around making you squeal like a school girl.

"Yes it fuckin' was! Incredible. C'mere."

Before you can blink he's pulling you in for a devastating kiss.

"Hey, come on guys, get a room!" You hear Anthony groan.

"We have a room Tony, you just happen to be in it." Eddie bites back, grinning carnivorously.

"Seriously? Not cool!"

Eddie laughs, but nods at the guys and pulls you through a door, down a hallway, and into what you can only assume is a supply closet. You haven't exactly got much time to take in your surroundings before Eddie's biting at your throat.

"Eddie, wait just one second!" You giggle, pushing his head away. Wild eyes meet yours. You can feel the post show glow practically vibrating through his system; you know you have a small window if that.

You hold your small hands to his shoulders, ducking your head to actually look at the new ink he has.

It's nearly identical to your own rose tattoo he gave you about nine months ago, just a slightly different style. It's a little more illustrated, slightly less realistic. It's still beautiful, a perfect accompaniment to your own.

"Eddie, its beautiful. I don't know what to say."

He gives you a lob sided smile, stroking at the apple of your cheek with his thumb.

"I love you sweet thing."

"I love you too baby."

You're about to lean forward to give him a sweet kiss but your mouth hits nothing but air.

Eddie's fallen to his knees, reaching under your skirt to pull your panties down. You kick them off and away. Expecting to feel his tongue, your eyes half close in anticipation.

The world falls downward. Suddenly, Eddie's picking you up, your head advancing towards the ceiling. He's lifted you with ease, bear like hands grasping at your ass, your thighs either side of his head. Pulling your heat towards his waiting lips; he's holding you in the air like a rag doll.

Abrupt slam of your back into shelves; Eddie's dexterous tongue laps between your folds. A guttural moan winds its way out of your lungs, tinged with animalistic need. The heat of his mouth is igniting the fire within you, hips rolling into him as nature intended.

You want to tell him he's making you come. You want to tell him how much he means, how good this is. All you manage is a broken scream and a muttered "Eddie, oh fuck!"

Eddie knows. He forces his face into you, ferocious intent clearly exhibited. His tongue is wickedness personified; fiendishly flicking into your core, so evilly it may as well have been forked.

Fire bubbles deep within you, an unearthly lust boiling just under the surface of your skin, waiting to lash out with all the force of hellfire.

Eddie sucks on your clit like the devil himself and forces your release out of you. Your thighs clamp around his head as your orgasm flies through every nerve ending with a cleansing fire. Your moans ricochet through the tiny room and probably out to the rest of the band. You're past caring at this point.

Panting and sweating, you want to take a moment to centre yourself but there's no opportunity. Eddie's pinning you to the shelves with one arm, as if you were his toy. The other is frantically pulling at his belt and fly.

Pushing his pants down just enough, he slides you down his sweating torso and towards his waiting dick.

You feel him breach you and bite your lip to control the burning sensation. Even in this elevated state, Eddie knows he's a lot to handle. He bottoms out, grunting with the feeling of finally being seated inside of you, but gives you a moment to adjust.

"You ok sweet thing?" His words are heady and husky, barely containing the predatory want, devious desire spreading into his very vocal chords.

"Yeah baby," you manage in a small voice.

That's all he needs. Eddie's huge hands are grabbing you by the flesh of your ass, pulling you up and down his length. He's using your  body, his puppet to control; a burning effigy for his desires.

"My fucking good girl, letting me use her like this. Fucking pussy beginning to be used." He's growling, low voice shaking slightly with each heavy thrust. 

You moan, clenching at his filth, slick from your cunt dripping down your thighs.

"Yeah? That good huh? So fucking filthy for me, so ready for me to fuck you. Shit, hang on."

He pulls you off bodily and places you on your feet, only to spin you around and force your front into the wall, kicking your legs apart.

The tip of his solid cock is teasing your entrance, breath of his words ghosting your ear.

"You can take me like this, huh? My good girl."

You're about to scream your submission to the heavens when he pushes back into you with no warning, turning your scream into a whimper.

One of his hands twirls into your hair, forcibly pulling your hair back so he can plant burning open mouthed kisses to your throat. His thrusts are unyielding, pushing his entire length into you, leaving dull bruises deep inside. Gasping at the relentless onslaught you tighten around him, feeling another orgasm about to race through you.

"You're gonna come, I can feel it. Don't you fucking dare. You wait, you come when I come. You come when I tell you to come."

You tighten your muscles, cunt constricting his cock, eyes tight shut. Your impending release is held on a gossamer thread, grasped by the fingertips of his threat.

"Eddie, please please please-" it's just babble at this point; inane, needy noises.

He speeds up his powerful thrusts, one hand holding you against the wall by your throat.

"You do as I fucking say. You want to be my good girl, don't you?"

You attempt to nod, head lolling to the side, only held upright by his firm grip.

Hot breath, a low whisper on the shell of your ear, "I asked you a question."

"Please, please, I'm your good girl!" So high pitched; you'd think you sounded pathetic if you were aware of anything other than Eddie's thick cock penetrating your entire being.

"Ok, fuck, I'm gonna come, come with me, please, oh fuck-"

Eyes tight shut, you do as you're told. Your release cries out, speeding through you, ripping out of your very soul and beyond, leaving your decency and sense of self in tatters, torn by Eddie's hands. Every bone turns, changes, now slipping into useless puddles, muscles unresponsive and uncaring. You'd sink to the floor if Eddie wasn't pinning you to the wall, with not a thought in that pretty head of yours.

Eddie gently pulls his member from you and softly sits you down on a nearby stool, pulling up his pants. He kneels in front of you, palms pressing into your thighs.

"Fuck, I'm sorry if that was a bit much pretty girl." Half a laugh huffs out his chest.

"It's ok, it's fine, baby." You want to sound sure, confident. Your voice is a whisper, a shadow of itself.

"Shit sweets you know what to say if it's too much." He frowns, palm coming rest on your chin as if he was inspecting your face for damage. 

You hold his sure hand in your trembling fingers, softly kissing at his skin.

"I'm ok, I know what you needed."

He laughs, pulling you in for a crushing hug. Voice in your hair, you hear "the fuck did I do to deserve you."

"Something really good?" You smile, relishing his hold on you.

"Seems unlikely but I'll take it" he grins, "you're an angel."

Preening at his praise, you soak up the feeling of Eddie pressed against you, the love of your life holding you as tightly as he can.

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ALL TIED UP - FIVE

Previous ⊹ Series

summary: Steve's night is made when his barista ends up sharing a class with him. But Steve's paranoia gets the best of him– can he really trust his gut?

pairings: Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!Reader

word count: 2.66k

warnings: flirting, fluff, hand holding, closeness, steve is adorable when he's nervous, paranoia, unease, cursing, barista lore™

a/n: had fun writing this one as we build up to friday! i might be switching the days/chapters around in the next few, but we'll see. depends on the depravity of my brain 😈

gif by @paliaphrodite | additional graphics + dividers by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist | all tied up masterlist Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

Last Thursday.

Learning how to draw, when he already knows how to draw, makes Steve feel bad at drawing.

Sitting in the lecture hall of the art school, he doodles over the half-assed notes he manages to take during the first thirty minutes of class. Usually, he loves Drawing 101; it’s his easiest, only late-night class each week and one of the only times he can relax without worrying about one of the brothers barging in with another stupid homework question. Usually, it's just him, his earbuds turned up a touch too high, and whatever subjects the instructor places in front of him. On Thursday nights, nothing stands between him, an easel, and two straight hours of sketching pots and people. 

Except when a said-Thursday night happens to fall on ‘mandatory lecture’ day.

It hasn’t been an hour when Steve gives up trying to force himself to focus, instead choosing to mindlessly doodle over and around the page. The Drawing 101 guest professor continues to drone on about different types of graphite in the pencils kits Steve and twenty-odd other kids in the course were forced to buy. Steve doesn’t understand– nor does he particularly give a shit– as to why a 3H pencil is better over a 3B pencil, or how using an 8B pencil isn’t preferred over a 7B pencil.

A pencil is a fucking pencil.

Steve sighs, failing to stifle a yawn. No amount of coffee– not even the triple espresso concoction his barista had him try earlier that day– could save him from falling asleep in this godforsaken, decades-old room with dimmed lights and sporadically-filled seats scattered amongst the vast sea of empty ones. Honestly, nobody ever came to monthly lectures, save for when their usual professor mentioned the material would be part of their written midterms. Guest lecturers result in a lesser turnout, too, and Steve partially wishes he’d chosen to spend it back at the café or in the library. As the professor continues on to the next type of pencil, the double doors at the back of the room creak open. Still dazed in a bored stupor, Steve cranes his neck over his shoulder to see which unlucky bastard is almost an hour late to the snoozefest. 

He immediately wakes up, shooting up in his seat as if a bucket of ice water were splashed on him. He can’t believe what he sees: it’s her. Her. His barista. 

Mouth agape, he stares as she slowly closes the doors, careful not to draw too much attention to her late arrival. When nobody bothers to acknowledge her, she makes her way down the carpeted steps of the lecture hall in search of refuge in an empty seat. Her eyes dart across the aisles, desperate for just one, inconspicuous place that will draw the least attention. 

As she combs the rows with a furrowed brow and bottom lip slipping adorably between her teeth, Steve realizes he’s got some sort of a chance. Eyes dart to the professor, then back to her. Steve subtly raises a hand, waving to get her attention. Locking eyes, she finally sees him. Relief and surprise replace her bitten lip with a beaming smile. Steve’s heart soars, skipping far more than several beats. He doesn’t– he can’t– take his eyes off her as she quickly shuffles through the row of seats, plopping down next to him and dropping a tote bag at her feet. She pulls out a purple notebook and pen, slouching back into her seat with a relieved sigh, knee brushing gently against Steve’s. A ghost of the sweetest-smelling perfume drifts into his nostrils and he has the urge to replace his oxygen supply with it.

Steve feels like he’s dreaming. Cloud nine, light as a feather, the whole fucking nine yards. He skims over her features in the dim light of the lecture hall– the curve of her lips as she whispers to herself, flipping through the pages of her notebook, trying to find a blank spot; her eyelashes that flick up and down as she copies down the date and class number. He trails down her neck, crossing over the gold bar necklace she wears every day, to her shoulders and arms, her hands. When his eyes drift back up to her face, she’s staring back. Heat blooms in his cheeks and nerves constrict his chest in embarrassment. She smirks, shaking her head and turning her attention to the professor’s current ramblings on B and HB pencils. Steve opens his mouth to speak but quickly shuts it.

What would he even say? How would he get away with trying to talk to her in the middle of the lecture? The professor would hear him, he’d get called out, everyone would see him–

She huffs, turning to another blank notebook page. Steve side-eyes her as she quietly tears the page out and scribbles something on the first line. Side-eyeing Steve, a small smile pulls at the corners of her lips as she discreetly slides the paper over to him.

hi stranger.

Steve can’t help but grin. It spills across his lips as more heat blooms, trailing up his ears and down his neck. Trying not to seem too eager, he clicks his own pen and scrawls a response. The professor’s voice fades into background noise, going through one ear and out the other. He’s a goner and so is Steve.

YOURE THE STRANGER, STRANGER

He slides the paper back to her. She scoffs a laugh, smile growing wider. 

last minute class drop + switch. u know how it is.

TRUE. DIDNT KNOW YOU WERE AN ART KID

She shakes her head, quickly scribbling when Steve cocks his head, mouthing a ‘what?’

film kid. have to take art class for credit. only one available.

Steve’s surprised at her response, nodding once he thinks it over. It makes sense. 

She makes sense.

It fits her. It fits the way she moves, the way she carries herself, the ease in which she comes up with witty comebacks. It’s then and there Steve really thinks about the contrast between the two of them– the way he’s perceived versus how he perceives her. He’s a frat brother, a six-foot-two guy with muscles he doesn’t know how to use yet, and a lifelong artist who doesn’t fit in– no matter how much he tries to claw and fight his way out of the hole people dig and throw him in.

If anything, he doesn’t make sense. 

Brow furrowing and jaw set, Steve’s caught in the downward spiral he’s been fighting to keep at bay since coming to Richards– since he pledged his life away to Sigma Theta Beta and the never-ending identity crisis the brothers force upon him every waking moment. But, it’s with her that he feels more like himself than anywhere else in the goddamned world. It’s with her he wants to– willingly– be himself. He wants to be himself with her.

He, however, doesn’t realize the hack job he’s performing on his poor cheek tissue until a soft hand covers his, squeezing lightly. Warmth spreads like wildfire across Steve’s skin, breaking him free and bringing him back to the real world. Concern veils over his barista’s expression; her soft, searching gaze jumps between his baby blues.

‘You okay?’ she mouths, studying him, hand still on his. Her brow twitches upwards when he still doesn’t respond. Steve holds up an index finger and goes back to responding on the paper. 

SORRY. LOT ON MY MIND

She nods heavily in agreement. 

same. pencildick up there is putting me to sleep. how do you even do it?

Steve bites a laugh back. 

DRAWING, COUNTING THE CLOCK

Before she takes it back Steve adds,

AND NOW YOU.

Her smile is bright enough to light up the darkened lecture hall. 

Two whole pages are filled by the time class lets out. Front and back. 

Steve allows his barista to take the lead in following other students out of the lecture hall. Buzzing conversations reveal a shared eagerness to get the hell out of there and go spend the rest of their Thursday night doing something else more worthy of their precious time. Steve slings his bag over his shoulder as he follows close behind, verbally continuing their written conversation about her shift from earlier in the day and swapping ridiculous ways on how they’ll manage to work every type of pencil into their midterm.

As he plods next to her, Steve fights an innate urge to place a light hand on her lower back to guide her out on their way to the parking lot. Instead, he gets the door, jokingly half-bowing with an outstretched arm to the second set of double doors. Continuing out of the building, Steve takes a breath, deciding now is the perfect time to ask if she’s busy tonight. Instead, though, she stops abruptly. Steve runs directly into her, arms jutting out instinctively to steady both of them out of sheer instinct. Grabbing her shoulders, she spins around to face him, closer to his chest than either realized.

Steve feels his ears turn red again. She looks up at him, blinking before taking a step back, lips parting slightly. An awkward beat hangs in the air before Steve clears his throat and rubs his neck.

"You, uh,” he swallows, preparing himself for the inevitable, “You maybe wanna go grab a bite t’eat, or somethin’?" 

Her eyes widen, lips twitching at the corners. She looks like she’s about to answer before quickly realizing something, as if internally scolding herself for even looking excited. Pressing her lips together, her eyes dart back to her phone.

"Shit, I–" she quickly types a response and shoves it back in her pocket, exhaling in frustration. 

"What is it?"

"I would love to, Steve. I really would, but," she closes her eyes and sighs, "I can't. My sisters need me back at the house. They said it’s an ‘emergency.’" She adds sarcastic air quotes, rolling her eyes. 

"Oh!” Relief fills Steve’s chest, thankful she’s not purposefully blowing him off with some shitty excuse. “Okay, no yeah, I–I totally get it, family can be-"

She smiles softly, shaking her head and taking his hand to run a thumb over his knuckles. The gesture is so casual, so soft, yet it sends goosebumps up Steve’s arm. 

"Oh, no. No, they're not my actual sisters. They're, um, my sorority sisters." She flinches as 'sorority' leaves her lips.

Steve blanches, swallowing a disbelieving laugh. He can't help the lopsided smile spreading across his face. He can’t help taking both her hands in his and holding them in excitement. The odds of it– all of it– all the things, of all the people, she’s the one to make him feel less alone. She’s the one that understands everything.

He tries, and fails, to contain his excitement.

"No, I– I completely get it. My frat brothers are insufferable and I'm the newest pledge, so–"

It’s her turn to blanche. "You? You’re a new pledge, too?"

"Yeah, I, uh, I’m required by my scholarship–"

"Oh thank God it's not just me!"

"There's one for sisters, too?" Steve gawks. He’s truly in shock at the audacity of Richards to make any student required to endure the circle of Hell that is Greek life. He squeezes her hands. She matches him.

"Of course there is, meathead,” she snorts. “Title nine, or whatever the hell."

Steve nods. "I can’t tell you how glad I am not to be alone in this. It's fucked up, but maybe not as much now that I know you're in the same boat as me."

He pulls her ever-so-slightly closer. She lets him.

"Guess that makes you the Jack to my Rose."

Steve furrows his bro, cocking his head like a confused puppy. 

"Oh God– Don't tell me you've never seen Titanic," she gasps, feigning offense and sending Steve off course, thinking he’s fucked up somehow.

Sarcasm isn’t his strong suit.

"I, uh– no, not that I know of. I–I mean I've heard of the Titanic, but I don't remember the– well I know there's a movie, but I–" 

She laughs, full and genuine, stepping forward as her hands leave his, placing one on his shoulder. Her touch is soft, gentle, more comforting than anything he’s ever felt. 

"I'll show ya some time. Don't worry."

Squeezing his bicep, her fingertips glide down to his hand, grazing his fingers for the slightest moment before slipping between them, lacing them together. Electricity shoots up Steve's arm. Without another word she leads him out of the building, walking down the sidewalk lit by the moon rising overhead and scattered street lamps illuminating the parking lot. 

Steve decides then and there he’ll go wherever she takes him. Anywhere. Everywhere.

She stops at the edge of the parking lot and turns to him. "This is where I leave ya, my car’s over yonder.” She nods to a blue sedan with a Richards sticker on the back windshield sitting underneath one of the street lamps. “Plus, I’d like to save you walkin’ me to my car for another night.”

Butterflies. Steve nods. She scoffs a laugh.

“Text me, meathead. I'll see ya tomorrow?"

“Tomorrow.”

She releases his hand in slow motion and Steve hopes she’s relishing every bit of physical contact with him as he is with her. He heads to his own car parked in the darker side of the lot under the shadows of the perimeter trees and dimmer lamps, swaying languidly and ambling across the pavement in a trance. Steve makes a note to himself: watch more movies, because he sure feels like he's in one. 

The trance is broken when a split second of what sounds like a scream echoes over the lot and is snuffed out just as abruptly as it started. 

Steve freezes, key halfway into unlocking the driver’s side door. Ears prick up, breath held firm in his chest. Turning over his shoulder, he gasps, startled as a blue car– her car– slowly backs out from under the streetlamp and exits onto the road casually. Steve watches it disappear from view. The sound of the engine gunning it down the road leaves Steve alone in the dark, a sick uneasiness pooling in his gut.

He gets in his car, tossing his bag into the passenger seat and pulling out his phone.

You okay? Did you hear that?

Steve turns the engine over and throws the car into drive, foot hard on the brake before checking her text back. 

Hear what? I’m okay! :)

The uneasiness doesn’t leave him. She doesn’t usually text like that. 

“Fuck, get a grip, Steve,” he mutters to himself, resting his head against the steering wheel. He takes a second to gather himself and calm his nerves. The paranoia he’s been trained to feel thanks to his brothers, in combination with the fear of fucking everything up with his barista tonight, must be mixing together and clashing against every active nerve in his body. He’s fine. She’s fine.

She’s obviously driving right now, of course she wouldn’t fucking text how she normally does. She’s probably using voice text. Calm. Down.

Steve sends another text before tossing his phone into the passenger’s seat, the unease refusing to dissipate. He turns on the radio, turning up the song blasting from the speakers in a sorry attempt to silence his racing thoughts. 

No big deal. Get home safe.

His phone stays silent the rest of the night. It stays silent as he gets home, as he throws a bowl of ramen together, as he throws himself onto his bed and flips open his laptop to watch some random brainrot he finds on Netflix. 

He nods off, letting himself be taken by exhaustion as the uneaten bowl of ramen sits on his desk, growing colder, while the dim computer light and hum of dialogue pull Steve further and further into a dreamless sleep.

His phone dies silently in his hand. 

[morganhopesmith1996]

Invisible Major by Shirow Masamune

[isobellenoire]

Is the Dragon Age fandom still alive, or are you all romancing another traumatised elf in BG3?

I'm still hung up on Solas...

Maybe I'll make this into a series?

[fiatluxillustration-portfolio]

Eye Trios - Anakin Skywalker / Darth Vader

[x]

[itzalbedo]

Some of my sketches!!

[e-dubbc11]

Son of the Sea

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, few swear words (courtesy of Little Raven and her godfather🤣), pregnancy, morning sickness, little distress but it all turns out alright.

Word Count: Around 5K-ish

Summary: Part of The Sweetest Pain Series This little family of three is getting a new addition and Little Raven is very excited for his arrival

A/N: I never thought this little series would turn into what it has become and I’m so happy everyone that has followed along from the beginning continues to follow and watch this family grow. Thank you!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The familiar wave of nausea washed over you as you stood at the stove trying to cook dinner without running to the bathroom. You learned quickly when you were pregnant with Little Raven that morning sickness didn’t always strike in the morning and that it basically showed its ugly face whenever it wanted to.

There were only a couple of scents that triggered your morning sickness and continued to bother you even after you had given birth. You had a favorite perfume that you wore every day before you got pregnant with Anna and now you couldn’t stand the smell of it on anyone and had to get rid of the nearly full bottle Billy had given you as a gift because it made you sick to your stomach.

The aroma of any meat cooking was what was bothering you at the moment but you weren’t positive you were pregnant yet. It was a very high possibility though. Just a handful of weeks ago, you and Billy had a wild romp in his tattoo chair.

He had even made mention of another baby after your intimate moment but you had put it out of your mind until right now as you pushed the ground beef around in the pan, trying to keep your stomach from retching.

“Maybe I am pregnant….” You thought to yourself before moving the pan to a cold burner, dropping the spatula, covering your mouth and running for the bathroom.

Billy and Little Raven were quietly drawing at the dining room table as you raced past them, into the bathroom, and slammed the door shut behind you. The porcelain cooled the inside of your wrists which brought your body temperature down a little. Even after everything was out, you continued to dry heave and that’s when you heard a slight knock on the door.

“You alright, sweet girl?” Billy asked softly against the door.

You couldn’t answer him right away as your stomach continued to do somersaults.

“Baby? I’m comin’ in ok?” He said in his familiar gentle tone.

Slowly, he opened the door and found you sitting on the bathroom floor with your back against the bathtub and one hand covering your eyes in embarrassment.

Without looking at him, you replied, “You shouldn’t have to see me like this.”

“Oh I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you worse than this, my love. Remember your last birthday before you got pregnant with the little miss? At one point, I had to make sure you were still alive.” He flashed his million-dollar smile at you. “I’ve also watched a baby come out of you too soooooo…” Said Billy, leaning up against the door frame with his arms folded across his chest.

“That was a good birthday though.” You said, returning a gentle smile. “Riiiiiight up until I had that last shot of tequila.”

The two of you started to laugh.

Billy planted himself across from you on the floor, his long legs extended and feet resting at the sides of your hips with his knees bent. He took your hand in his and gently pulled you away from the bathtub so you were sitting upright and he swept a stray hair out of your eyes. His smile made you weak in the knees every time so you were happy you were already sitting down.

“Do you think maybe you’re…?” Billy asked, glancing at your stomach then back up to meet your gaze.

“It’s very possible, my love.” You replied, the corners of your mouth curled into a slight smile.

Just as you said that, you heard little feet running down the hallway.

“Well, we know she’s never gonna sneak up on anyone.” Billy said with a wide smile.

You started to laugh when you saw her little face in the doorway.

“Mommy, ok?” She asked. Her carbon colored eyes that were just like her fathers were full of concern.

“Awww, of course baby. Mommy’s ok.” You replied.

Billy looked at Little Raven and said, “Mommy just has a bit of an upset tummy.”

Anna glanced at her father and then looked over at you, satisfied with that answer and said, “I go get you my dinosaur, ok?”

Then she took off again down the hallway, and back into the dining room. She carried that stuffed dinosaur Shortcake had given her everywhere she went, and held it extra close when she didn’t feel well.

Billy pulled you in close so he could wrap his long arms around you. He leaned in to give you a kiss but you held up your hand to stop him.

“Uh, you might wanna hold off on that, lieutenant.” You said, covering your mouth.

With a wide smile, he kissed your forehead instead. “I’ll go finish dinner, sweet girl. You sure you’re ok?” He asked.

You nodded. “I’m ok, handsome. I’ll take a test in the morning.”

When you were pregnant with Anna, the perfume was really the only scent that triggered your morning sickness. Every other time, it just came out of nowhere but it was different this time. You noticed there were a few scents that bothered you aside from the meat.

Eggs, onions, and trash were bothering you a lot in the past week. Billy was constantly taking out the kitchen trash because you couldn’t stand the smell of it so even though you hadn’t taken a pregnancy test yet, you had a strong feeling of what it would say.

You heard little feet run down the hallway again followed by a little voice.

“Here, Mommy! My dinosaur make you feel better.” Said Anna, handing you her stuffed toy.

A loving smile stretched across your lips as your sweet little girl gave you her favorite stuffed animal to help you feel better.

You replied, softly, “Thank you, baby girl. I feel better already.”

**********

The Next Morning

You opened your eyes slowly, allowing them to adjust to the early morning sun spilling in through your bedroom window. The space next to you, Billy’s space, was empty and cold. He was probably sitting in the kitchen, drinking his coffee like he did every morning. Lately, you had been feeling more tired than usual so you didn’t feel him get out of bed.

You were ready to head to the kitchen to see him when you remembered there was an important test you had to take this morning. Digging through the cabinet under the sink, you found the box of pregnancy tests, took a deep breath, and opened the package.

The edge of the tub felt cool through your thin pajama pants as you sat there waiting for the timer on your phone to ring. The flashback of waiting to find out if you were pregnant the first time played in your head.

You remembered how nervous you were at the thought of becoming a mom, how scared you were to tell Billy the two of you were going to be parents and it was probably the most terrifying but exciting news you had ever received.

After what felt like hours, the timer on your phone went off. Timidly, you stood up and craned your neck to see what the results were. Two blue lines…you were pregnant…again. A sense of warmth flushed across your cheeks as your lips curled into a smile.

The tears that stung the back of your eyes were almost like a reflex; you didn’t mean for it to happen but it did anyway. You and Billy were going to have another baby and Anna Raven was going to be a big sister.

But the smile quickly disappeared from your face when you felt the familiar turning of your stomach. It was a good thing that you were already in the bathroom.

As soon as you walked toward the kitchen, a familiar sight was in front of you. Your handsome husband sitting at the breakfast bar, with a cup of coffee in front of him, and a pencil in his hand.

Billy was always drawing something.

“What are ya workin’ on, handsome?” You asked in a cheery tone.

Billy replied, “Well g’mornin’, beautiful.” He quickly turned the paper over so you couldn’t see what was on it. “You’re not allowed to see that yet.”

Slightly disappointed, you said, “Oh I’m not, huh?”

Biting down on his lower lip, he shook his head and replied with a wink, “It’s a surprise, sweet girl.”

You had the pregnancy test hidden behind your back.

“Well…speaking of surprises but not really. Surprise!” You said, chuckling as you showed him the positive test.

“We’re gonna have another baby?” He asked, softly.

Pointing at the test, you replied, “Well, according to this we are. I’ll have to make an appointment to find out—“

Billy cut you off when his lips collided with yours as he cupped your cheeks, tongue gently pressed against your teeth wanting to tangle with yours. His hands dropped from your cheeks to your belly. Billy was always very gentle with you when you were pregnant with Little Raven.

No matter how many times you told him you weren’t going to break, he was always very careful. Gently touching your stomach, he looked down then back up to meet your gaze and your tattooed hand rested on top of his. A wide smile stretched from ear to ear on his face; he just looked so happy.

Snaking your arms around his neck, you pulled him in close to touch your forehead to his, and you lightly scratched his scalp with your fingernails.

“You ready for another little Russo…Dad?” You asked with a warm smile.

Billy leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours.

“Even though we’ve done it before, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.” He said, as he glanced down at the floor. “But we’re doin’ ok so far with Little Raven, right? We can handle another one.”

Biting down on your lower lip, you nodded and replied, “I’m sure we can, baby. We’ll wait a little before we tell Anna and then we can tell everyone else too.”

**********

“What my shirt say, Mommy?” Asked Anna, looking and pointing at the shirt she was wearing.

Helping Anna put on her jacket, you replied, “It says, ‘I’m going to be a big sister’ Remember what Mommy and Daddy told you yesterday? Mommy has a baby in her belly so you’re going to have a little brother or sister.”

With pure innocence in her voice, she asked, “Do I get to pick? I wanna sister.”

Chuckling, you replied, “Afraid not, baby girl. We don’t get to pick.”

Scrunching her nose, she asked with slight disappointment in her voice, “Are you sure?”

“We get what we get, Anna. You ready to go see Uncle Frank and Auntie Maria?” You asked, zipping her jacket.

The three of you were getting ready to have dinner at Frank’s house along with Billy’s friends/employees from his tattoo studio. After seeing Little Raven’s t-shirt, they will know you’re pregnant and you couldn’t wait for everyone to find out your big news.

“I see Shortcake today, Daddy?” Asked Little Raven.

Billy smiled at his daughter.

“You sure do, little miss. You bringin’ your dinosaur?” He asked.

You answered for her.

“Oh she already packed it, baby. It’s all ready to go.”

You said with a wink and a smile.

**********

Frank cooked on the grill no matter what time of year it was. He’d stand out there with an umbrella or in snow boots if he needed to but it was a beautiful sunny day in April.

The late afternoon sun warmed your faces as you pulled up in front of the Castle’s home, Frank was already outside prepping the grill, and the excitement on Little Raven’s face when she saw her godfather made your heart swell. They loved each other so much.

After getting out of her car seat, Anna took off running toward Frank. Scooping her up, he tickled her stomach and playfully bit at her neck while she laughed uncontrollably. Frank was the only one outside at the moment, everyone else was in the house.

“Show Uncle Frankie your t-shirt, Little Miss.” Said Billy.

Anna had a problem undoing the zipper on her jacket.

“Help peeease, Uncle Frankie.” Anna begged.

Frank pulled the zipper down on Anna’s jacket, read the t-shirt, glanced at you and Billy then back to Anna with a sly grin stretched across his lips.

“You’re gonna be a big sister?!!” Frank asked.

Biting back a shy smile, Anna nodded.

“I wanna baby sister, Uncle Frankie.” She said.

Frank chuckled.

“Well, we don’t get to pick what we want, Little Raven. That’s not up to us.” He said. “Go show your Auntie, she’s gonna lose her shit, er, her mind.”

Anna knew “shit” was a bad word. She let out a devilish little laugh and replied, “Shit.”

It was only a matter of time before she’d pick up on the colorful words her Uncle uttered out loud.

“Anna Raven, you know that’s a bad word.” You said, biting back a laugh.

Frank opened the front door so Anna could go inside, then turned to you to offer his congratulations.

“Congratulations you two. Finally took enough ‘naps’ to get the job done, eh Bill?” He joked, pulling you in close to give you a hug.

“Something like that.” Said Billy, with a wide grin.

“We find out what we’re having in about three weeks.” You said.

You heard squeals and screeches coming from inside the house. It sounded like Maria and Shortcake got a good look at Anna’s t-shirt. Suddenly, the front door flew open and Shortcake was standing in the doorway.

“When are you due?!!!” She asked, her cheeks couldn’t contain her smile.

You returned the smile and replied, “Around Halloween.”

Shortcake turned and shouted back into the house.

“SHE’S DUE AROUND HALLOWEEN!!!” She yelled.

Faintly, you heard Maria shout back, “Tell her to come in here!!”

“Don’t keep that woman waiting, she’ll make ya pay for it.” Said Frank.

You felt a light smack on your ass as you walked past your husband and into the house. Billy winked when you glanced back at him over your shoulder. You could barely get inside the house before you were attacked with hugs, kisses on the cheeks, and glances at your belly. You had already started to show a little because it was your second baby.

Anna got hi-fives from Ed #1 and Ed #2. They told her she was going to be the best big sister and then she proceeded to try and extort snacks from both of them. They both knew Anna was going to be at the Castle’s today so they had stashed packages of goldfish crackers in their pockets. Her face lit up with a bright smile when she found the first package.

“Open peeeease.” She said to Ed #1.

She was smart and waited until after he opened her snack to pull on his dreadlocks. She thought it was the funniest thing but he didn’t seem to mind at all. He laughed right along with her.

Dinner was great and even though Frank grilled all of the meat outside, you still needed to run to the bathroom a few times after the smell of meat cooking floated past your nose.

Lisa and Junior played with Little Raven so you and Billy could have adult conversations with your friends. They were always so good with her and were excited there would be another Russo baby to play with.

You did express to the girls that you were worried about how Little Raven was going to react to a new baby because she won’t be the only child anymore. Maria told you to make sure to include her and each of you spend time with her alone without the baby so she doesn’t feel ignored.

Her mouth downturned a little when she talked about being alone, having two small children while Frank was deployed, and how hard it was to try and give Lisa her full attention when she needed a little extra “mommy” time while trying to take care of Junior at the same time.

Your hormones were all over the place so listening to her talk about it made you very emotional but very grateful that Billy was there so you could do it together.

Taking care of two children by herself, made Maria so strong in your eyes and you were thankful that you had someone you could go to for advice.

**********

Before you knew it, summer was over, you and Billy found out you were having a boy, and you were trying to get ready for Halloween and your new arrival. You were keeping his name a secret like you did for Anna.

It was quite a busy time and all things considered you were moving around pretty well for being nine months pregnant. Anna said she wanted to be Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty for Halloween which is a little fitting since she had a pet raven. She was very excited.

“Mommy, I wear my horns soon!?” Asked Anna, excitedly.

Easing yourself down onto the couch, you smiled warmly at her and replied, “Yes, you do Little Raven. Are you excited?!”

She clapped her hands together, jumped up and down, and she gave you the signature Russo Cheshire Cat smile when she replied, “YES!!”

You wanted a costume that would go with your pregnant belly so you went with Thing 1, the baby was Thing 2, and you were dressing Billy up as the Cat in the Hat which Anna was very excited about because it was her favorite book. She wanted you to read it to her every night before she went to sleep, sometimes more than once if she was trying to procrastinate going to bed.

Just in case your baby boy was born before Halloween, you had a skeleton onesie and a skull and crossbones beanie to go with it for him. Your due date was two days ago and Halloween is tomorrow so it was looking like your little man was going to miss Halloween.

Oh well.

You were becoming increasingly irritable, it was difficult to get comfortable enough to be able to sleep, and Billy felt bad that he couldn’t do anything to put you at ease. Trying all the tricks in the book to jumpstart your labor, you went for long walks, ate spicy food, sex…you tried them all but your little boy just didn’t want to come out yet.

They wouldn’t induce you unless you were a week overdue so you still had a handful of days left before they would. Your labor with Anna came so quickly so you thought it would be quick with this little guy too…you were wrong.

But it wasn’t all bad. You would get to dress up for Halloween (your favorite holiday) and take Little Raven trick or treating with the Castle children in their neighborhood, which may end up being your neighborhood too.

Your soon-to-be family of four was going to need more room and Maria excitedly told you there was a house a couple of streets over that just went up for sale that would be “perfect” for you.

It was definitely something to think about but right now you were focusing on trying to convince baby boy Russo to come out.

“Front and center, soldier! Let me see it!” You called to Billy from the living room.

He replied from the bedroom, “I look ridiculous, baby! Frankie’s never gonna let me live this down!”

You replied, “Well you haven’t seen his costume yet, Billy. He may think twice about saying anything about yours.”

Billy walked out from around the corner in his Cat in the Hat costume and you had to bite back your laugh. The striped hat, the red tie, and the tail…Anna looked very pleased. She started to giggle and point at him.

“You the Cat in the Hat, Daddy!” She squealed.

Covering your mouth to stifle your laugh, Billy could see you were laughing and he narrowed his eyes at you before turning back to Anna.

“You like Daddy’s costume, baby girl?” He asked.

She nodded and replied, “Mommy’s Thing 1 and my baby brother is Thing 2!”

Billy laughed and said, “Well Daddy feels a little silly but Mommy looks adorable.”

He winked and smiled at you before leaning in close to whisper in your ear, “What three-year-old wants to be Maleficent for Halloween?”

“Our child.” You responded with a warm smile and a kiss on his cheek.

He kissed the tip of your nose and said, “Well, I love it. It’s very rock star of her.”

Anna Raven was ready to go trick or treating. She understood it a little more this year so she was really excited to go with Lisa and Junior. She wore a long black robe, Billy fashioned her horns out of moldable foam and electrical tape, she carried a staff with a little stuffed raven attached to the top of it, and her face was painted green. Your little miss was the perfect little Maleficent.

“You ready to go, Little Raven?” You asked, wincing a little at what might be your first contraction.

“You alright, sweet girl?” Asked Billy, his voice full of concern.

“Let’s go, Mommy!” Anna yelled.

Nodding and grimacing at the same time, you replied, “Yeah handsome, I’m fine. The walk will be good. Let’s go.”

Billy opened the door, grabbed his keys and ushered the two of you out into the hallway before locking the door behind him and asking, “So, what’s Frankie’s costume?”

A devilish smile stretched across your lips as you answered, “Oh I don’t wanna spoil that surprise, you’ll see.”

**********

Billy had a hard time recovering after seeing Frank in his costume for the first time. The Castle family was dressed up like the cast from The Wizard of Oz. Lisa was Dorothy, Maria was the Scarecrow, Junior was the Tin Man and Frank was the Cowardly Lion. He didn’t look pleased at all which only made Billy laugh harder.

The picture you took of the two of them was priceless. They tried to look tough but at the end of the day they were both still dressed up as cats.

The tightening in your stomach became more painful and more frequent. You also had a lot of pain in your lower back, more so than you did with Little Raven which had you a little concerned but you really wanted to finish taking Anna trick or treating before possibly going to the hospital.

Anna had acquired quite the stash of candy before you couldn’t take it anymore. Billy had periodically asked how you were doing but you played down how much pain you were in. Finally, you came clean.

“Billy…I think I need to go to the hospital. These contractions hurt… a LOT.” You said in distress.

Billy was holding Anna in his arms when he replied, “Oh fuck, er, I mean…shit! Nope, that’s not right either.”

You tried to laugh but it was too painful.

He passed off Anna to Maria and Frank, then left to go get the car. They said they would take care of her and to let them know when the baby arrives, then they would visit. Luckily, your hospital bag was already in the car. Billy made sure you were ok before closing your car door and speeding away.

It was difficult to sit all the way down because it was so painful. At your last few doctor’s appointments, they said it was a little concerning that your baby boy hadn’t turned to be head down yet but that you shouldn’t worry, he should turn and it would be fine. They told you there were some things you could try to get him to turn on his own.

You were starting to think that maybe he hadn’t turned yet and that’s why you were in so much pain.

“We’re almost there, baby. It’s ok.” Billy said, nervously.

Billy was always calm and in control but this was the first time you had seen him look…scared. He had been told that attachments and showing emotions were a weakness so a lot of the time, he kept his feelings to himself, pushed way down inside so no one else could see. It was better since he became a husband and a father but old habits are hard to break. All of that went out the window when he saw how much pain you were in.

When you arrived at the hospital, and after everyone you saw smiled at your Halloween costumes, your doctor told you that your baby boy was, in fact, breech which was why you were in so much pain. They were going to try and turn him but if they couldn’t, they would need to do a C-section.

Your doctor tried his best but couldn’t get the baby to turn so they prepped you for a C-section. Dressed in a sterile hospital gown and cap, Billy attempted to reassure you everything was going to be alright even though you could see in his deep brown eyes, he was still a little scared.

He couldn’t hide his emotions from you.

“It’s gonna be ok, sweet girl. They’re gonna get him out, alright?” He said from behind a face mask and stroked your forehead.

Billy could tell you were in a lot of pain because you never complained too much when you were in labor with Anna but she arrived quickly so you weren’t in pain for an extended period of time. Pretty soon, you didn’t feel any more pain and your baby boy was here.

After you were moved to a recovery room, tears stung the back of your eyes, and you gazed at your new son with relief that he was finally here and that he was alright.

“Oh Billy…he’s perfect.” You said, as a tear dropped onto his nose just like it did when you held Anna for the first time. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Just a quick question…” He said.

Confused, you asked, “What is it, handsome?”

Lightly touching his son’s head, Billy asked, “Um, well, where’s his hair?”

You could tell your baby boy would also have dark hair like his father but unlike his sister who was born with a full head of hair, he didn’t have much to work with at the moment.

You tried to stop yourself from laughing because you didn’t want to pop a stitch but that was a hard one to bite back.

“I’m sure he’ll have plenty of it when more of it comes in but he is definitely your son, look how dark it is.” You said.

Being careful not to squish the baby, Billy leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours. The hand with his marine corps tattoo on it gently cupped your cheek as he continued to kiss you. Billy smiled at you before leaning down to kiss his newborn son on the forehead.

“I’m gonna go call Frankie.” He said softly.

You smiled back and replied, “Don’t forget to call everyone else too, you know they’ll want to know too.”

Your little boy finished eating just as his first visitors arrived. Frank was carrying Anna who was all clean and in her pajamas. She looked very excited and a little nervous to meet her brother. The Castle family had changed out of their costumes too.

“I missed visiting Anna in the hospital because of that snow storm, I wasn’t gonna miss this little one’s first days too.” Said Maria.

“You ready to meet your baby brother, Little Raven?” You asked.

Chewing on her finger, she nodded and smiled.

Frank set her on the edge of the bed.

“Anna…this is your brother, Dylan. Dylan William Russo. Say ‘hi, Dylan.’” You said as tears welled up in your eyes again looking at the two of them together. They already looked like each other.

Anna was very gentle when she touched Dylan on his chubby little cheek and whispered, “Hi Dylan. Imma big sister.”

“You ARE a big sister, Anna.” Said Billy.

Carefully, Dylan was passed around so the Castle family could each hold him, even Lisa and Junior held him for a minute.

“Well, I know why you chose William but is there a reason behind Dylan?” Asked Maria.

You and Billy smiled at each other before you replied, “You all know how much I love the ocean and we all spent a lot of time at the beach this past summer. Well, this little guy was the most active when we were at the beach, kicking me, stretching, moving all around, especially when I was swimming. And the name Dylan actually means “son of the sea,” so he kind of chose his own name. It’s also no wonder he didn’t want to come out!” You said with a little laugh.

Everyone else chuckled a little too.

Frank looked at Anna and asked, “What do you think of your little brother, Anna? You wanna keep him?”

Anna looked up at her godfather with her ink like eyes, smiled and said, “I keep him, Uncle Frankie. He cute.”

Frank glanced at Billy before saying, “We’ll take her home with us so y/n can get some sleep, you too, you look like shit.”

Everyone heard Anna’s tiny voice repeat, “Shit.”

Frank tickled her neck and playfully scolded her.

“Hey, we told you that’s a bad word? Yeah?” Asked Frank.

Her devilish smile stretched across her lips again as Anna replied, “No, YOU say shit, Uncle Frankie.”

“Why does she only repeat it when I say it?” Frank asked with narrowed eyes and in a confused tone.

“Because she knows you’ll give her the reaction she wants.” Said Billy.

Everyone said their goodbyes to you, Billy, and baby Dylan. Frank scooped up Little Raven in his arms, she turned to wave to you and said, “Bye, bye Mommy, bye Daddy.”

The two of you waved back.

“Bye baby girl. You be good for your Auntie and Uncle, ok?” You said.

Frank paused in the doorway, Anna turned to look at her baby brother once more, she waved at him and said with a kind smile, “Bye, bye baby Dylan. I see you soon!”

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf

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