#I know the stick figure drawings suck

[arcturusgeneral]

You ever just have an idea in your head, that you can't do justice, but you need to get out anyway?

yeah...

should be obvious where my inspiration for the lettering came from.

Maybe I'll redo this one day. Maybe.

[corpsoir]

hi! do you have any tips with digital art? & if I may ask do you use procreate, please & thank you

hellooo yes so this answer might be super boring but oh well!!

oh and i use clip studio paint and a wacom intuos pro medium 🎤🦍

my best tip for digital art and art in general is to keep practicing and trying out new things as often as you can. practice shape and form and change the way you think about art. instead of drawing something the way you KNOW it looks, draw it the way you SEE it. this is like one of the basic boring first lessons you will have when you study art, it challenges you to use your eyes more than the knowledge you already have about the world while drawing. try keeping a sketchbook or something where you just draw objects without looking at the paper. draw things without the pressure of them having to look "good", draw to just draw you know! its really good practice and the only way to get better at drawing is to practice like crazy and try out new things and letting go of that fear of stuff not looking perfect.

i try out new brushes with different textures and shapes all the time because i always grow bored of the ones i use regularly, and so to get the creativity flowing again i always change things up a little. plus, a differently shaped brush will add interesting textures and shape to your art. one of my favourite brushes i use for both lineart and colouring because its so versatile since it adds just the right texture for me, i think its called SU cream pencil or something like that in clip studio assets

and when it comes to colours i always work with a limited palette because i find it helps bring the piece together?? if you stare at my art for long enough youll see i use the same colours over and over again in both the same pieces but also in different drawings and thats because i have a limited palette in clip studio, with colours ive picked before and just saved because i like them! i really like warm purples and dark muted reds because i really like how they feel warm and kinda autumny sjdjjdjsja

and use references! whether it be a photo from a fashion magazine or a video where you pause to get a good pose or a photo or real life, use references!! take photos of yourself and trace them, i promise its actually good practice!

pick up a book about drawing at the library or watch videos of professional artists breaking down how they work! theres a lot of really good artists online who are way better at teaching than i am HAJFHSJDJD

a book i would really recommend any artist is called art fundamentals! its about colour theory and perspective and shape and form and you name it, its really good and inspiring. filled with lots of cool art 🐙

i have a lot of things to say about practicing art but the question is kinda vague so sorry if this is all over the place hjsjdhakfjfj but yeah at the end of the day my only tip is practice and dont be afraid to try out new things and play around 🪱

[pixiesholloworld]

✧₊⁺GAME OVER⁺₊✧

╰┈➤ synopsis toji sucks at video games and takes his anger out on you

cw: f!reader, size kink, rough sex?, degrading, corruption kink?, head (giving), mating press kinda? kinda rushed and i was just writing wtvr but i hope it's cleaned up enough

after long days, toji would sit on the couch and play his games. sometimes you’d play mario kart or fortnite with him, but most days you let him relax and unwind by himself

though sometimes he’d play for hours on end seemingly unable to unglue his butt from his seat, which meant you’d be left to your own devices most of the time

you’d whine for his attention, but he wouldn’t budge, he’d sing your name or gently move you aside. his eyes cutting to meet yours whenever your begging would cause him to lose a match

eventually you gave up and sat silently on your phone doom scrolling through reels. sometimes when you looked up, you caught glimpses of him staring at you hard. he started to sigh and groan, obnoxiously shifting in his seat, nearly foaming at the mouth. 

he lost again and again, curses and grumbles escaping his breath as his mind becomes poisoned with the most lewd thoughts of you. after losing to the voices in his head, he tosses his controller to the side and strides towards you. the sound catches your attention, and you watch as his stark, tall figure draws closer to you

his hand sneaks its way to your jaw, forcing your eyes to lock with his. “dont chu know how hard it is to focus with you here?” his other hand pulled at the hem of his sweatpants, revealing speckled black hair

“sittin’ there, lookin all pretty” his thumb slides between your lips and teeth, slowly massaging your wet tongue. his grin grows bigger as your eyes gently bat at him. “y’know exactly what you’re doin' don’t you?” 

he pulls his sweats down to reveal his girthy length, his hand snakes its way up to your hair, grabbing a fist full of it. almost as if on cue you stick your tongue out and he taps his tip on it, rubbing it all around your mouth

“what an eager little whore,” his hips rock back and forth watching his tip get coated in the warm, slippery spit. “got such a cockthirsty look on your face, baby,,want me t’fix it?” 

"uh-huh," you nod. while adjusting yourself on the lounge chair, he feeds his dick into your mouth slowly, low groans leaving his lips while hes watching your mouth open wider to fit all of him in. once your face is full, he pulls back out and does it all over again, admiring at how your sweet little face looked beneath him. 

your tongue slithered all around his tip, tasting the leftover precum from earlier. your hand quickly reached for his girth, and your mouth started to swallow him into your wet maw

he groans while using one of his hands to squeeze your cheeks together, feeling how your sodden buccal region provides extra stimulation. he shudders against the feeling, eyes locked into your lustful gaze. you start slowly moving your head along his shaft, feeling the spit collect in your mouth from the intrusion. you coat it around his dick, gently pushing some out that your hand can guide along his length as well

his breathing becomes heavy, and he pulls on your hair harder, making you pick the pace up a bit, going all the way down before you pull back up to kiss the tip, going lower, coating it more and more until you switch over to his big, heavy balls

naturally you put your mouth around them and suck at the bottom part of his skin, stroking his hardened dick in the process, squeezing near the tip, and flicking your wrist upward. you look up at him with such a salacious look in your eye. humming and moaning—teasing him, letting him see just how good his cock tastes in your mouth 

“you horny freak,” he snickers, though he teases you he can feel his legs begin to shake. his breathing grew spasmodic, and it made him embarrassed. you already had him thinking about cumming and you barely even started. even then, he still dared to place your head back on his dick, pushing it down faster just to studder against your touch 

your hands feel around his carved physique, moaning and drooling with each thrust he made. “look how fuckin’ messy you are, bet you’ve been thinkin’ about this all night” his breath is shaky, trying to control his breath. he bites his lip, his tongue licking around his scar 

honestly you just wanted to spend a little time with him at first, but he was right you’ve been wanting to stuff his cock in your mouth since he got home, and you were so happy to be doing it. you hum happily around his girth while sneaking one of your hands down to his balls, lightly massaging them, just to watch the grin on his face grow wider 

“face full of cock s’all my baby needs, huh? what’a slut” he rolls into your mouth faster, watching the spit coat around his dick more as you struggle to catch your breath. your moans become more exaggerated with the added speed. “open that pretty mouth of yours,”

you do as he says while he rams into your mouth, hearing how your wet gags and whimpers fill the air around you two. he lets off a satisfied groan as he tilts his head back. you watch as the sharp part of his throat jumps down from how low his voice just got, “gooodd fuckin’ bitch—just like that”

his breath gets rougher as his pelvis keeps kissing your mouth, you can feel him twitching in your mouth. toji's head swirled with pleasure, images of how your face looked while taking him, your pretty, plump lips getting sloppier by the minute. when his head falls back down, you look up at him and hold eye contact, and as if you commanded him to cum, he thrusts once, twice, three times before emptying his load in your mouth

he bends down and takes in how dirty you look right now, pouty wet lips that look hungry for more. he leans in, and you suddenly feel his cold wet muscle traveling all inside your mouth, stealing a moan from your lips. he pulls away and lays you on your back against the chair, taking your shorts off in the process. he can see the webs of slick your cunt makes through your laced panties, he chuckles and then looks up at you, "such a sloppy girl," he teases. 

he pulls your panties to the side and slides a thumb between your puffed out folds, beckoning a whine to come out of your mouth. he rubs it in circles a little, applying pressure here and there just to watch you squirm under his touch

"what should we do with my pretty girl's sloppy pussy, huh?" he keeps his thumb there, still delivering those same dionysiac strokes to your sensitive bulb, his fingers lightly grazing your soaked entrance with two digits from his other hand, "better answer before i pick for you" 

"p-please fuck me" his ears perk up at this, removing his thumb from your folds and hovering over you now, legs dangling above your head as they're propped on top of his broad shoulders. he levels himself right above your entrance, but you watched his mind change in real time.

a puckish grin tugs at his lip before he pushes his hot tip against your folds, rubbing it on your clit listening and looking at how your pussy drools so much for him, "how bad you want it?" he pesters on, teasing you like you could possibly get any wetter for him

"tojiii" you whine, "please, just put it in" you try to grab his girth to do it yourself but he grabs your hands and places them above your head

"aht aht, god you're such a nasty girl—so impatient," he kisses your cheeks, moving down to kiss your ear

"want it now, please"

"yeah?"

you loved how his voice sounds when he says that word, so low and rough

"want it s'bad toji, please" your hips try to rut up, wanting his tip, trying to get him to sink in and put an end to your suffering. he holds your hips down and slides it in, leaving you to cry out at the sudden pressure, feeling as if you could cum right now  

he gives you slow, deep strokes. his favorite part of fucking you was seeing how your facial expressions would change with each movement of his. even the slightest changes in his tempo would drag a reaction out of you 

though this time you didn't want those languorous, inebriating strokes you wanted him to pummel you to a pulp, "f-faster toji"

"hm? not good enough for you princess?"

"please—"

he kisses you on your lips before giving you exactly what you're asking for. his hips dive deeper into your pelvis, making you scream out in pure ecstasy. he watches as your eyes roll behind your skull and chuckles, he slams into you deeper, thinking your expression could put pornstars to shame. how'd his sweet sweet girl, who used to be too afraid to ask for sex, become such a fucked out slut?

this didn't stop him from teasing though, he'd always get his fun, making you tell him exactly how fucked out you are. "that feel good?" he'd growl into your ear, "let me hear how much you like it" you felt like butter in a pan, feeling your very soul melt to your words. you couldn't run away even if you wanted to because of how he had you folded over, not even mentioning his size alone—he was so much bigger than you, and it was hot

you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, feeling him slam harder at your sudden touch. you've never felt him this deep before, you left red streaks all over his skin and pulled his hair. trying anything to make your body understand the pleasure, feeling your toes spread out and reaching for the ceiling, you moan his name until your lips spill incomplete thoughts and incoherent prattles, making him giggle at just how dumb he fucked you

"think its time to let someone else speak, hm?" one of his hands moves to cover your mouth, muffling your moans so he can hear how your pussy squelches, he groans, moving his mouth to the side of your neck, his tongue barely ghosting you, tasting your sweet, salty skin. he french kisses it, fanning his hot breath all over you like a dog in heat 

"listen to how good she sounds, baby", the more you moan into his palm, the more he feels you start to drool, "awh, both your mouths are drooling, gonna have t'clean that up" he mocks. he gets real close to your ear again, the feeling of his grunts and breaths pressed against it going straight to your pussy, making the organ even hotter than you thought it'd ever been. 

you'd swear that if you could've seen it then and there, it would be a swollen, wet ring of folds from the sheer amount of blood that engorged your veins. you were starting to think it was having an effect on toji, his rough groans turning into shallow whimpers. "t-think she can take another mess?", he moves to his hand from in front of your mouth and sneaks two of his fingers in, running them back and forth just to listen to how you gag 

"so'fucking good baby, ngh- im gonna cum", his tip pushes through your folds over and over, growls and curses leaving his trembling mouth as he struggles to kiss and lick all over your neck. he suckles on a bit of skin at some point, listening to how your ass slaps against his thighs. between the kissing sound your pussy made and your screaming gags, he didn't know which to listen into more 

it all sounded so beautiful to him, so loud and messy, his whines become more audible and thrusts feel harsher. the chair underneath you moves and creaks, struggling to keep up with his hips just as much as you are. you could feel his whole body shaking by this point as he pulls himself back up to your ear again, "cum f'me gorgeous, you know you wanna~"

you pucker around him, clutching him hard at first, feeling his stubble kiss up on your clit, falling deeper into pleasure until that feeling in your stomach bubbles up, and finally releases. your climax comes in waves, squeezing and holding until the feeling eventually dies down

following close behind toji shoots thick spouts of cum and paints your womb, his tip beating on your cervix, his thrusts becoming ridged and stammerish, feeling himself pulse at every squeeze you make around him until you're both too weak to hold the position any longer

his lips crash into yours, letting your legs down gently so he can hold you by your waist. your tongues slip across each other. his hands find the sides of your face and hold it as if it were fragile, and he slowly kisses downwards until he gets to your belly and he looks back up with you, eyes half lidded and humming a happy tune.

he stands up, pulling you up with him and holding you close, staining your face with wet kisses. you slowly get up, letting your body fall against his as you try to regain your strength. "you take it so well doll," he says between kisses, "wanna go get cleaned up?" 

"tojiiii" you weakly push off of him but he still holds you close not letting you out of his grasp

"shh, i'll wash for you c'monnn, and in return you can buy that gojo fortnite skin f'me"

[0cta9on]

Nayeon fucking her hot manager in front of some trainees to make them know that they'll be fucktoys for their future managers

Sorry for taking so long, here u go!

Three pairs of eyes stare at you, nervous yet eager and willing to learn. You weren’t exactly sure why Nayeon asked you to show up at the dance room, but judging by the sly look she gave you upon entering, you figured it would be worth your while.

“Ladies, this is Twice’s manager, he makes sure that all of us are focused on the schedules for today and takes very good care of us,” Nayeon says, introducing you to the three girls that sat in front of you. “Oppa, these are Lily, Haewon, and Sullyoon. They’re gonna be debuting soon and I thought I would show them how to properly treat their managers.” So that’s why she dragged you here. Your cock immediately gets hard at Nayeon’s mischievous bunny smile, but you try not to let it show. You wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.

You exchange kind greetings with the girls, not wanting them to be intimidated by the show you’re about to put on.  “Being a manager is a lot of hard work, especially when he has to watch over all nine of us at the same time. That’s why we like to give him a little treat every once in a while, to show him how much we appreciate him,” she explains before rubbing your boner through your sweatpants, a lustful groan escaping your lips. The girls’ eyes go wide with shock, their bodies frozen from this sudden development.  So cute, so innocent. Your breath quickens at the thought of breaking everything they thought they knew about becoming an idol.

“Don’t be afraid girls, first times are always scary, but it’s a lot of fun if you just embrace it,” Nayeon giggles before kneeling in front of you, eyeing your dickprint with excitement. Slowly, she tugs at the hem of your sweatpants until your large cock pops out, nearly slapping her in the face. “Isn’t he so big and thick, girls?” 

Before you even have a chance to blink, your cock disappears into her gaping mouth, drawing gasps from the trainees. It’s no surprise that Nayeon is the main vocalist with how well she can use her throat. Her bunny teeth slightly graze against your length, a sensation none of the other Twice members could reproduce, while her tongue expertly works on your head with each buck of your hips.

Despite the incredible feeling of getting your dick sucked, your focus is mainly on the reactions of the girls. A wall of disgust and apprehension is still up, but you can see cracks start to form. The squirming of legs, the biting of their lips, their hands trailing down their bodies. It’s only a matter of moments before they succumb to the idea of becoming personal sluts for their manager.

The sound of Nayeon gagging on your member is always music to your ears, but you want more. You want to watch these girls break right in front of you. Grabbing Nayeon’s hair, you pull her off your cock and throw her to the floor so her plump ass is sticking towards you. Despite her cry of pain, Nayeon’s lips are curled into an excited smile as she looks back at you, your fingers hooked around the waistband of her pants.

“Now ladies, your manager might like it- Ah!” She squeals as you slap her bare ass, covered in nothing but a thong, thoroughly soaked in her arousal. “Your manager might like it rough, so it’s always important to be ready for- SHIT!” Her sentence gets cut short again as you impale her with your cock, pumping into her pussy at breakneck speeds. The sound of slapping skin and cries of pleasure echo throughout the room, filling the girls’ ears with a chorus of sinful acts.

You watch in delight as the girls start to get restless, their chests rising and falling as their breaths get heavier and heavier. None of them dare to break first, but it’s obvious that they want to touch themselves so badly. They just need a little encouragement.

“It’s okay, girls,” you say, panting with fervor. “You can touch yourselves.”

Haewon is the first to break. Almost immediately as the words leave your mouth, her hand shoots into her pants, digging her digits into her wet pussy. Sullyoon follows soon after, massaging her breasts with her free hand. Lily struggles to hold on, but eventually falls victim to her desires at the sight of her fellow trainees fingering themselves combined with her senior getting pounded into oblivion.

The sounds of their cute little moans mixed with Nayeon’s drives you to the brink of orgasm. Nayeon, sensing this, pushes her ass into you, meeting your hips with each thrust.

“Oh my god oppa, I’m about to cum! Fucking cum inside me while they watch!” She screams. You sink your hands into Nayeon’s ass, holding on for support as you feel the pressure build in your loins. As you gaze at the trainees, their bodies melting with passion, you and Nayeon’s orgasm melds together, your juices swirling deep inside her pussy. After nearly a decade of managing and fucking each member of Twice, this is the most intense orgasm you have ever experienced.

The both of you collapse breathlessly onto the linoleum floor of the dance room. The girls seem to have reached their own happy little ending as you glance at their weary bodies, barely clinging onto the chairs anymore. Nayeon giggles watching them, her fingers playing with the mixture of your cum leaking out her pussy.

“Oh, sweet girls, the fun isn’t over yet,” she comments, her smile widening with glee. “Now, who wants to lick the cum out of my pussy first?”

[spiciestmimosa]

Thinking about how addicted to your pussy Katsuki gets. Just needs to be in you all the time. His fingers, his tongue, his cock. You’ll feel his warm hand slide up your thigh while you’re out to dinner with Kirishima and Mina, his large fingers teasing your clit over your panties before pulling them to the side and sliding them deep inside you, pumping them in and out of your heat. You sit there struggling to keep your moans in while he nonchalantly looks over the menu.

You’ll walk in the door from work barely getting the words out that you’re home before his figure appears in front of you capturing your mouth in a hot kiss. He pushes you up against the wall and drops to his knees, roughly pushing your tight pencil skirt up over your hips. “Been thinkin’ about this sweet cunt all damn day.” he tugs your underwear down to your ankles, before grabbing your leg and draping it across his shoulder, your stiletto heel scraping along his back as he literally dives into your pussy. Licking a long, wet stripe up from your already clenching hole to your clit. He alternates between kitten licks and pulsing sucks while his crimson eyes focus on how you’re already arching your back, pushing your hips off the wall, begging him for more. Normally he’d let his sadistic side take over and tease you till you’re shaking, crying, dripping- but the need he has to bury his tongue deep inside you is all-consuming. The next thing you know you’re on your back on the sofa, his face buried between your thighs, tongue plunging inside you. You raise up on your elbows so you can watch him fuck you on his tongue. He eats you like a man starved; his eyes roll back in his head as he moans into your cunt.

When you’re lying in bed, he’ll want you to just cockwarm him. He’ll beg you to let him stick it in. Your back is against his chest as he starts to leave hot open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder and up your neck before you hear his deep voice in your ear “You just feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. Always so warm and wet for me. Please? Promise that’s all I want. Just to feel you wrapped around my dick”.

So of course, you let him, he pulls your panties to the side and slides his hard cock inside your velvety walls. Thanking you for being such a good fucking girl for him. Telling you how good you feel. How perfect your pussy is. How he wants to be buried inside you forever. You can’t help but moan and push back against him until every inch is inside you. “Fuck. Never met a bitch with such a needy fuckin' cunt, you know that?” he rasps. “Told ya all I wanted was for you to warm my cock for me. That’s not enough for you though, huh?". His fingers find their way to your lips, and you suck them into your mouth swirling your tongue around them as he continues speaking filth into your ear. You feel his cock twitch inside you the sloppier you get until he’s fucking your throat with his fingers. Making you gag while your pussy pulses and flutters around him.

“You want me to fuck you? Want me to stuff you full of my cum? That what you want?” He pulls his fingers from your throat and stuffs them inside your pussy. The added stretch of them makes you see stars. “Please Katsuki.” You pout. “Please move. I need you. Wanna cum around your fat cock. Please.”. His free hand squeezes around your throat as he starts to draw his hips back, painstakingly slow. You can feel him smirk against you as he presses another kiss to your neck. “You're so fuckin’ cute when you beg. I'll give it to you, princess. Don't worry. Gunna make you cum so hard your vision goes black."

ANYWAYSSSSS 🥴😬

[dixons-sunshine]

daryl and wife reader having a mini 3 year old daryl and shes sassy like her mama also shes really smart and daryl just being the best father and husband to be ❤️❤️

Daddy's Little Girl | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: Life in your little home in Alexandria was amazing. You had a wonderful husband and a beautiful daughter you couldn't be more proud of, especially since she brings out parts of your husband you couldn't help but admire.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, post the building of the bridge

Warnings: None.

Word count: 965

A/n: This sucks so bad. I didn't really know where to go with this and scrapped so many attempts, so I'm sorry for the bad quality. I hope this is still somewhat enjoyable at least.

Rick never went missing in this because I'm in my feels after seeing him look for a gift for RJ.

It's not a major plot point, but there are mentions of Rick in this. Also, my default name for any fics involving Daryl having a daughter will be Hazel because I've grown to love the nickname I came up with for my last Dad!Daryl fic, which is Hazelnut.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

“No, Daddy. You can't.”

“'Course I can,” Daryl retorted playfully, taking the purple crayon from his daughter's hand. “Yer not even usin' the crayon, Hazelnut. Yer jus' holdin' it while yer colourin' with the red crayon. I need the purple more than ya do righ' now.”

Hazel huffed and folded her small arms over her chest, sending Daryl her version of a glare that the archer found absolutely adorable and amusing. “Not fair, Daddy. Gonna use it soon.”

“Until then, I'll use it. Once you need it, jus' ask, alrigh'?” Daryl told her, and chuckled when he saw her huff again and reluctantly continue to draw with the red crayon.

Daryl looked up and locked eyes with you, amused smiles on both of your faces. You were seated on the couch with Dog's head resting on your lap, fixing up one of the archer's favourite shirts while he entertained your daughter as she waited for Michonne to come pick her up for a sleepover with RJ. Daryl looked back down at his piece of paper and continued on with his drawing while you continued on with fixing up his shirt.

You silently listened to Hazel's happy babbling, smiling fondly at the father and daughter duo drawing stick figures and shapes. Suddenly, Hazel huffed again and threw the crayon down in frustration, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What's wrong, baby?” you asked, glancing at your daughter.

“I don't want to draw anymore,” she declared, crawling over to Daryl and clambering into his lap for a hug.

Daryl instantly dropped the crayon in his hand and embraced her, pulling her into his chest. Hazel nuzzled her face into his neck, giggling at the kisses Daryl placed on her face.

“It tickles, Daddy,” she giggled, bringing her small hands up to his stubble.

Daryl smiled and abruptly stood up with Hazel in his arms, eliciting a yelp of surprise from her that was quickly followed by more laughter. Daryl spun her around while placing more playful kisses all over her face, careful not to drop her. Dog jumped up from the couch with a happy bark, circling around Daryl as he wagged his tail happily.

You laughed at the shrieks of laughter that fell from your daughter's mouth. “Don't drop her, Daryl,” you warned him when he stumbled slightly. You turned your head when you heard a knock on the door.

“Never,” Daryl replied, placing one final kiss on Hazel's cheek before placing her down on the floor. He ruffled her hair before stalking over to the door, you getting up from the couch and trailing behind him.

Daryl opened the door and the two of you came face to face with Michonne, who had RJ perched on her hip. She smiled at the two of you in greeting, rubbing RJ's back soothingly.

“Hey, guys. Is she ready to go?”

Daryl hummed and turned around, calling out to Hazel. “Hazelnut! Auntie Michonne's here!”

You grabbed the sleepover bag that you had placed near the door earlier that day and handed it over to Michonne. Hazel's footsteps got louder until she ran up to you, hugging you before hugging Daryl. She then turned to Michonne and took her outstretched hand.

“Bye, Mama. Bye, Daddy.”

“Bye, sweetheart. Be good for Michonne and Rick, okay?” you greeted her.

She nodded and took off with Michonne, happily conversing with RJ while they walked. You closed the door and locked it, turning around to face Daryl. The archer smiled at you and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly.

You were confused but soon hugged him back, nuzzling your face into his chest. Daryl placed a soft kiss on the top of your head before resting his chin there, slightly rocking you side to side.

“Not that I'm complaining in the slightest,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss against his chest. “But what's with the hug?”

Daryl remained silent for a moment. “S'jus' 'cause I love ya. And I can't believe how lucky I am to have ya and Hazel in my life.”

“Well, believe it, Dixon. I love you so much. So does daddy's little girl,” you replied, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

“I love ya both too. Yer the most important people in my life. I'd die fer ya.”

“Hopefully it never comes down to that. You're dying a very old man if I can help it,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Daryl wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Dun' worry. I ain't plannin' on dyin' on ya anytime soon.”

You smiled at him. “Good to know. That's really good to know.”

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two

15 days before Christmas Steve Harrington flinches when the Christmas lights strung along the arcade flicker. 

Eddie only notices because he makes a habit out of keeping an eye on questionable people when he's out and about. 

Watches Harrington recover with a little shake of his head and a roll of his shoulders, as Gareth finishes up his shift, swapping cashier positions with Jeff. 

Dustin and Lucas stick around long enough to greet Jeff as Eddie stares, before scuttling off to Harrington's car, pushing and shoving each other the whole way. 

Eddie frowns, but decides to put the whole thing out of his head. 

He doesn't need his little lamb's adoration of evil high school figures to poison his day. 

                                                            xXx

12 days before Christmas and Eddie is starting to realize Harrington is everywhere. 

There's a little holiday display the town center has put on. A temporary ice rink surrounded by dazzling lights, hot chocolate stands, and plenty of things to see. 

Wayne and Eddie, with their traditional day of Christmas shopping complete, stroll within it, a cup of hot chocolate in hand. They never buy much--can’t, but it’s still something fun for Eddie to do with his Uncle and so and he bounces about with glee as they people watch. 

A familiar shriek hits the air, and Eddie turns in time to see Mike and Dustin collide on the ice, while Lucas and his sister skate literal circles around them, laughing. 

Unable to pass up on the opportunity to tease, Eddie flies to the edge of the rink, waving his hand and demanding one of the kids do a flip. 

"A flip!? Eddie, I can't even skate a circle!" Henderson shouts, at the same time as Wheeler adds; 

“Let’s see you try and skate with these idiots!” 

“Sorry Wheeler, I think getting on the ice with you might be hazardous to my health.” 

“Shut up!” 

Delightful banter officially traded, Eddie turns to find his Uncle in a conversation with Steve Harrington. 

Grin immediately faltering into a frown, he approaches cautiously right in time to see Wayne clap Harrington on the shoulder. 

“It gets better.” Wayne says gruffly, in that tone he uses when he’s trying to give deeply emotional advice without the emotional part.  

The younger boy gave a hard nod, muttering something that might have been “Thanks.”

Eddie jerked to a stop several steps away, but close enough for Wayne to see him, to know he was done and it was time to go. 

Thankfully his Uncle picked up the signal, and made his way over, so the two of them  could finish out their lap around the town center. 

"He’s one of your classmates, right?" Wayne asked, as they turned away from the rink, Harrington back to watching the kids laugh and play around the ring. 

"Not anymore." Eddie scoffs. "That's Steve Harrington."

Wayne hums noncommittally.

"As in, the rich Harrington's.” Eddie prods, because come on everyone knew who the Harrington’s were, just as everyone delighted in rightfully shitting on them. They weren’t good people. “As in, the assholes from Loc Nora?" 

Another hum. 

Then; "People are more than their last name, Eds. You should know that."

Eddie jerks back, stung at the admonishment. 

Wayne’s not mad, never is, but Eddie recognizes his Uncle’s disappointed tone loud and clear. 

"One of the gifts you got from me was seein’ through people's bullshit.." Wayne continues, before sucking in a draw on his cigarette. "I'm surprised you didn't see through his." 

‘I don’t want to see through his!’ Is what Eddie wants to say, but keeps it to himself.

Changed the subject instead, shoulders hiked to his ears, because Harrington having some kind of claim on his new players was one thing, but his Uncle!?

He didn’t care about whatever crap the guy was going through. King Steve has been an ass for as long as Eddie had known him, the kind of bully whose downfall you cheered for. 

Sure it was petty, but guys like Harrington reveled in pettiness. 

So who cared if Eddie didn’t want to look closer at him now? Harrington wasn’t a lost lamb.

He was at best, an injured wolf, and no amount of sad looks was going to make him any safer to be around. 

                                                          xxx

 9 days till Christmas and Wheeler is having a tantrum that's delaying Hellfire's holiday oneshot.

"I don't get why he hates Christmas so much. He didn't even know Will when he disappeared!" Mike snips with his arms crossed. 

Dustin is across from him, a furious scowl on his face, as Lucas stands between, a physical barrier between the two. 

"As usual, you're talking out of your ass, Mike." Henderson spits, furious. "He was in Will's house with Jonathan and Nancy. That's reason enough!"

As if that makes any kind of sense, but then this isn’t the first argument that went into weird territory like this. Eddie’s always prided himself on pulling stories out of people, earning secrets and truths with a well trained ear and a smarter mouth. 

The freshman though, were proving to be a hell of a challenge.

Mike throws his hands in the air. "I'm just saying, we all have way more reasons to hate Christmas, but none of us are acting like the grinch!"

“I know you can only have two good thoughts a day without breaking your brain, but you're being so stupid." Dustin thunders. "Did you ever think Steve might have other reasons to hate Christmas!?”

Eddie almost groans aloud, because of course, of fucking course, this is about Harrington. 

The guy was a goddamn ghost at this point, hellbent on haunting Eddie’s entire life. 

Didn’t even have the courtesy to die first! 

"Guys." Lucas stressed, hands now firmly pressed against Mike and Dustin’s chest. “Come on, we’re wasting time. We can talk about this later.”

“Oh don’t worry about that Sinclair,” Eddie purred, making the three of them jump, as though they had forgotten they had a full ass audience in the form of the rest of the club. “I’m just docking their HP points for every minute they hold up the game.” 

“Shit!” Dustin and Milke yelled as one, scrambling to get to their chairs. 

Gareth and Jeff snicker, Grant making it known he was over their antics with a look that could have burnt gold. 

Eddie clapped his hands once, hard enough for it to echo throughout the room. “If everyone is done bickering,” He announced, slipping into his DM voice, “we can begin our tale…” 

He launches into the story he’d planned, and enjoys pulling everyone into it, all thoughts of Steve Harrington left behind.

                                              xXx

5 Days before Christmas and Eddie is panic shopping.

He’s not the one panicking, nor the one shopping, but he has a car and friends who know where he lives, so he’s woken up at an ungodly hour of the morning (10 am) by Gareth, Grant, and Henderson of all people. 

“Gareth’s sister took the car again.” Grant explains with dramatic, rolling eyes at Eddie’s exasperated face. 

“I’m sorry you planned going shopping five days before Christmas?” 

“Well--no-” Grant continues at the same time Dustin and Gareth yell protests. 

They talk over each other for a moment, loud enough to make Eddie crave coffee and the comfort of his bed. 

He runs one hand through his frizzy, bedhead hair before yanking it out and waving it around to catch his friend's attention. “Alright, I get it! You all decided to do white elephant gift thing last minute, and are now scrambling." 

"Speaking of which, you're invited." Henderson tells him with a cheeky grin. "We're doing it on Christmas Eve." 

Of course they were. 

 "Please man? It'll be fun." Gareth pleads, as Grant shoots him his patented puppy dog eyes. 

Eddie sighs. 

"I'll do it, but!" He sticks a finger in the air as grins broke out, "I'm demanding food and coffee and payment!" 

With that he retreated from the door, stomping back to his room. 

"Good coffee, too!" He hollers as he throws on clothes, happy chatter breaking out among his friends. 

Several arguments and one run to the best to-go coffee shop in town, and Eddie was following his buddies around as they wandered through downtown Hawkins. 

Since the mall had burned, shopping options had been rather limited, shops slow to reopen. 

It made it difficult to buy things last minute, but Eddie found it was actually kind of fun as Henderson explained the rules they'd all agreed on (hopefully, Gareth added, because the rules had been passed along in pieces.) 

"The goal is to get outrageous, funny stuff." Dustin explains as they browsed the local bookstore. "Nothing more than fifteen dollars, and nothing Christmas-y."

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "Nothing Christmas-y?" He echoes curiously. 

Dustin nods, serious. 

"Yeah. Christmas can be kinda a downer for some people. We came up with this as a way to celebrate without all the holiday stuff involved."

"Some people like Harrington?" Eddie guesses, sinking feeling in his stomach. 

There's no way Grant and Gareth would've  agreed to do a gift exchange with Steve Harrington.

Right?

Dustin sighs dramatically, whole body heaving. 

"I know you've got a weird hate-on for him, but this time of year is really hard on Steve." He snaps, exasperated. "It's not my place to talk about it outside the Party, but he doesn't deserve to deal with it on his own."

There's that word again, Party. 

Capital P implied, just as it implies that it's a group that Eddie is firmly excluded from. 

It stings as it lands, an unintentional insult that reminds Eddie that his newest little lambs have secrets they refuse to share.

Nevermind the fact that Steve is clearly included. 

Eddie collects secrets like candy, but his poking and prodding had yet to get him a solid answer on the mysterious "party." 

Rather than press, Eddie raises his hands in surrender. 

"Easy there, tiger. No offense meant." 

Full offense meant actually, but Eddie wasn't in the mood for a full blown Henderson Rant. 

Dustin narrows his eyes, but takes his words at face value. "You know, you guys would really like each other if you both just got over yourselves." 

Eddie snorts, but covers it by playfully shoving Henderson's cap down into his face. 

"When hell freezes over maybe. Now look, they have a new science fiction display!" The last part is sing-songed. 

Thoroughly distracted, Dustin lets the conversation drop, much to Eddie's relief.

(Because really him? Liking Harrington?

Not in a million freaking years.) 

                                                      xxx

 It's Christmas Eve and Eddie is staring furiously at Steve Harrington's house. 

"No one told me he was involved." He hisses angrily, knuckles white on his steering wheel. 

"Oh my god, stop being dramatic." Dustin rolls his eyes as he talks, unbuckling himself. “I told you Steve hates Christmas, so this is how we’re including him!” 

Jeff is looking equally uncomfortable, even as Lucas and Mike fall out of the van.

Gareth's car is behind him, Grant with him.

No doubt they too, are staring at the massive house in front of them in horror. 

Slowly the elder Hellfire members file out, standing in a clump as the younger members rush forward. 

They storm the door like they live in the damn place, fluttering about like moths. 

"What the hell." Jeff mutters quietly to Eddie's left. 

"Yeah guys, what the hell." Eddie repeats, shooting a glare toward Gareth and Grant. "No one mentioned this part!"

"We didn't know." Gareth defends angrily. "This was all the freshman!" 

"Are you idiots coming inside or not!?" Robin Buckley of all people yells, appearing in the now open front door. 

Or rather, one of the front doors, because Harrington is rich enough to have two. 

"Shit." Eddie mutters. 

"It's not weird if we just--leave, right?" Grant mumbles, shuffling from foot to foot. 

"It's very weird if we leave." Jeff responds flatly. 

A flare of anger ignites in Eddie. It comes from Steve Harrington invading this entire holiday, and Eddie finally has a chance to catch him off guard.

He'd be damned if he let it pass by. 

"Brave faces men." He says, tossing his hair back with a jerk of his hand. "We're storming the castle."

Struts forward determinedly, present in hand, fully planning on making Harrington as uncomfortable as he had made Eddie.

Unintentional, or not. 

                                                xXx

It's the day before Crapmas, the one holiday Steve hates, and he's somehow been sweet talked into hosting the kids white elephant exchange.

Which was fine--they were welcome in his home anytime and they knew it--but they'd conveniently forgotten to mention this was a Hellfire Club event.

As in, Eddie "the freak" Munson and his crew of three other dudes whose names Steve doesn't know (but who probably knew his.) 

"I dunno man, I wasn't the best person to a lot of people." He worried at Dustin this morning, when the brat had sprung it on him. "This probably isn't the best idea."

"Please Steve!? It's too late to change the venue and you promised you'd do a holiday thing with each of us!" Dustin whined on the other end.

At least he had the forethought to not actually use the word "Christmas." 

"You did everyone else's, you can't skip out on mine!"

Everyone else's was simple shit like taking them ice skating, or shopping, or making gingerbread houses.

Not hosting a whole ass party with four people who likely hated his guts--and for good reason.

Which Steve repeated to Dustin, staring vacantly at his carefully decorated house.

Once again, his parents had called in designers to come keep appearances, sending along their usual message that they may or may not be home depending upon various work factors.

"We just never know anymore with your father's job honey." His mother slurred on the phone, four years ago. "We'll make it up to you, sweetheart. Promise."

Like more money on his credit card could fix years of ruined holidays. 

(At least them being gone was better than forcing Steve to perform in their horrible holiday parties. Dressing him up like a doll, gathering drunk adults around the piano to make him play horrid Christmas songs. 

Showing him off like a well trained dog, complete with finger snaps to signal him to move on to his next trick. ) 

“Steeeeeeve-!”

As always, Steve crumbled under Dustin's badgering.

"Fine, fine!" He’d said. “You're responsible for letting them know me and Robin are gonna be there though!” 

Robin, who’d been laying on his couch, poked her head up at her name. 

“They’ll know!” Dustin had promised. 

Then abruptly hung up, like the brat he was.

Now four half-terrified, half-murderous looking dudes were staring Steve down as they awkwardly stood in his living room, and he had the wondrous realization that Dustin had probably sprung this on them too. 

‘Little. Asshole.’ Steve thinks, but plasters the best non threatening smile on his face. 

“Hey, uh, guys.” He says with an awkward little wave.

He gets three sets of glares and one impressive looking spooked face back. 

Mike and Lucas were already tackling the snacks he’d put out, cheeks full of chocolates and popcorn. Dustin was re-arranging furniture to his liking, and Robin, in-between her four classmates and Steve, glanced at both sides and rolled her eyes. 

“Steve, go pull the pizza out of the oven. You lot, come sit down, you look like you’re about to bolt.” Robin snaps, making everyone sans the kids jump. 

Happy for the distraction, Steve quickly retreats to his kitchen, overhearing Robin try and get the elder Hellfire members to identify themselves. 

Chatter fills the room, slow at first, but it becomes more fluid with Robin’s ruthless prodding. The pizza ends up needing another five minutes, which suits Steve since he hadn’t had time to pull out drinks. 

He’s bent at the waist, pulling out various cans when Dustin loudly announces his presence by barging into the fridge and smacking Steve’s ass with it. 

With a yelp, cans fly everywhere as Steve drops them, bouncing off the floor and rolling across the kitchen. 

“Henderson!” He gripes, standing up as the kid grins at him. He has all his teeth now but the smile will probably always feel cute to Steve. By-product of knowing the little shit for far too long. 

“Sorry Steve.” He says dismissively, before stepping aside with a dramatic flair. “Now stop being a total housewife for a second and meet Eddie!” 

The sound of cans still rolling ringing in his ears, Steve finds himself staring into Munson’s eyes. 

Who looks all too delighted to have seen Steve fumble. 

“Thought you were a jock, Harrington. What happened to those reflexes?” He smirks, and Steve feels his face flush red. 

“Yeah well,” Steve says, hand reflexively rubbing the back of his neck, “Turns out hanging around kids kinda ruins them.” 

This is clearly not the response Eddie was expecting. 

Nor is he expecting Dustin to loudly announce that; “Steve once played a D&D campaign with us, but he totally ate it as a cleric. You should give him some tips, Eddie!” 

Now it’s Steve’s turn to smirk, because Munson looks completely thrown. 

“Is…that a joke?” Eddie asks carefully, looking between the two of them. 

Dustin shakes his head. “Nope! You can ask Lucas’s sister, she was there.” 

He then glances down at his watch, and gives the biggest fake gasp Steve has ever heard (and Steve once sat through Will and Mike acting in a play for their English class, while Nancy and Jonathan silently suffered second-hand embarrassment next to him.) 

“Oh shit, I forgot something! Be right back!” 

“Language!” Steve calls, as Dustin shoots out of the kitchen. “And be careful not to trip on the cans!” 

Munson, who looks like he’s taken a wrong turn and ended up in the Twilight Zone, stares at him. “Did you seriously play a cleric?” 

“Weave Healington was a brave man who sacrificed himself in a time of need.” Steve tells him seriously, just to see the guy’s reaction. “May he rest in peace.” 

“Weave Healington.” Eddie deadpans. 

Steve, keeping his face blank by the skin of his teeth, nods. 

“Please tell me that wasn’t the pizza you just dropped.” Robin says as she flies into the kitchen, interrupting Eddie’s face rapidly cycling through different emotions with a badly wrapped present in her hands. 

“Stevie boy dropped the pop, Buckley Bird.” Eddie says, recovering quickly. “I would not recommend drinking out of anything currently laying on the floor.” 

“Noted.” Robin says, pausing to stare at the cans scattered about. “Hey Steve, did you wrap your weird eyeball thingie? Or do you want me to do it? I dunno how long the kids are gonna wait.” 

Like a dog hearing a whistle, Munson’s whole head tips sideways. “Weird eyeball thingie?” 

“Oh my god, it’s this--I don’t even know how to describe it. Like an alternative ouija board? It says it’s a “fortune telling game.” Robin makes the quotation marks with her hands. “It has this giant, ugly eyeball in the middle.”

She leans forward conspiratorially to add; “It glows in the dark.” 

 “Oh my god, Steve, your gift is Ka-Bala!?” Dustin says, bouncing up like a damn jack-in-the-box. “I’ve always wanted that game!” 

“Robin!” Steve hisses, because of course she’d announce that right as Dustin would pop back up. 

“Oh shit.” Robin says, shooting him an apologetic glance. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your gift.” 

Steve sighs dramatically, but keeps a small grin on his face so Robin knows he’s not really upset. “Guess I’ll have to go find a new one--which means your punishment is that you and Dustin are now in charge of the pizza. And also picking up all the cans.” 

“Curses.” Robin says flatly, before breaking out into a grin herself, while Dustin whines. 

“It’s probably for the best.” Eddie says, though the guy sounds weirdly like someone desperately off balance and scrambling to fix it. “You know you weren’t supposed to pick cool gifts, right Harrington?” 

Steve raises his eyebrows at him. “Cool? It’s kinda weird. It’s disgustingly neon green. And Robin forgot to mention it’s a board game.”  

He pushes Dustin’s hat down as he walks by, and laughs aloud when Eddie follows up by knocking it right off Henderson’s head. 

“Hey!” Dustin squeaks, hands darting to cover his hat hair.

He’s ignored. 

“Neon green, giant eyeball, fortune telling board game?” Eddie sums up. “Yeah might have to murder Buckley because that sounds rad as hell.” 

Steve snorts as he walks down the hall and up the stairs, somehow unsurprised to find the metalhead is following. 

“You want it, Munson?” He asks as they hit his second floor, Steve aiming for his fathers office. “You’re welcome to it, I never even opened the thing.” 

“What do you want for it?” Eddie asks, following Steve right through the door, before stopping dead. 

A typical reaction to someone walking into his fathers stuffy, stupidly expensive office. Like the rest of Steve’s house, it looks as though it was transported straight out of a magazine. Everything is shiny and worse--unused. 

“Nothing, man.” Steve said, standing in front of said desk now with his arms crossed. “I mean it, it’s still got the plastic on it. You’re gonna have to sneak it by Dustin though.” He turned to smile at Eddie, feeling like they were sharing a joke, “He might physically fight you for it.” 

For some reason this made a hell of a blush streak across Munson’s cheeks, before the guy coughed and swung into the office behind Steve. 

“He can try.” Eddie managed finally, voice a shade higher than normal. 

As he always did to social things he didn’t understand, Steve just ignored the change. 

“Why’d you never play it?” Eddie asks, as Steve scans the shelves of stupidly expensive knick-knacks. 

“Someone trying to impress my parents got it for me one Christmas.” He says with a shrug. “They wouldn’t let me open it then, and I forgot all about it until I was digging for something else.” 

“They don’t care about it now I take it?” 

Steve can’t help the snort that leaves his throat. “They’d have to be around to care.” Then to get the conversation back on track, says; “Okay, I’m thinking the shitty World’s Best Boss trophy.” 

He points to the gaudy thing, all shiny from the ass kissing the person who’d purchased it had done in hopes Steve’s dad would give him a raise. Or not fire him, Steve never knew which it was. 

 "I take it your dad’s not gonna be here to care that it’s gone?” Eddie asks, walking up to stand next to Steve. 

 Another grin appears on Steve’s face, shared conspiratorially with Eddie when he looks over to the metalhead. “That’s my gift to myself man. I’m gonna see how long it takes before he notices it’s gone.” 

Eddie whistled, quiet enough to not hurt Steve’s ears. “Fuck the old man, huh?” 

“Absolutely.” Steve agreed, stepping forward to fish the trophy down. 

“Gotta say man, you’re surprising me. I didn’t expect such a thing from you. Especially since Henderson told me you hate Christmas.” 

Steve shrugged as he turned back around, new white elephant gift in hand. “Yeah it’s a thing I’m trying.” 

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Not hating Christmas?”  

“Not being a dick. Which,” He shook the trophy, “--means sticking it to the biggest dick in my life. I think I’ll always hate Christmas.” 

Eddie snorted a laugh, then looked startled, like he hadn’t expected that reaction out of himself. 

Steve grinned at it. 

“You uh--you know if you ever want to talk about the hating Christmas thing, I think I get it. Or can relate. Sorta.” Eddie says, and it’s so stilted that it takes Steve a moment to figure out what he’s offering. 

He almost asks him if he’s kidding, but thinks better of it. 

“I think I’m less cut up about it then the kids are but, for what it’s worth--thanks.”

Doesn’t think he’ll ever take anyone up on that offer, epically not someone who doesn’t know that an entire hell dimension exists under them but--

It’s nice. To have someone recognize that Steve hates it. That there are reasons he might.

He recalls suddenly that the man at the ice rink who’d also seen through his melancholy was in fact, Eddie’s Uncle, and briefly wonders if this just runs through the family. 

“Come on, I gotta wrap this and then get back downstairs before Robin and Dustin burn the house down.” He says instead, because he doesn’t want to get in his own head about it. Not tonight, when he knows the kids have gone out of their way in an effort to celebrate the holiday without making him feel like he was celebrating it. “Or worse, they start the white-elephant without us.” 

“After you, my liege.” Eddie says with a dramatic bow. 

Steve pauses awkwardly for a moment, before giving the world's most careful curtsey back. 

(Laughs loudly  as Eddie almost falls on his face in surprise, before the older man scrambles to chase after Steve, out of the office.) 

                                               xXx

It’s 12:00 pm, making it officially Christmas day, and Eddie Munson is rapidly re-evaluating his entire life.

Well perhaps not all of it, just the parts with Steve Harrington.

They’re playing the best white-elephant game Eddie has ever participated in, a cutthroat competition that’s filled the house with shrieks and laughter. 

Henderson’s gift, cat-paw shaped mittens with “You’ve gotta be kitten me” scrawled on the back is the current winning prize, with Mike’s salt and pepper shakers made in the shape of two pigs “porking” being a close second.

The worst gift is a tie between the eye searing scarf Gareth’s mother had created (complete with bedazzled gems) and an abomination of a stuffed animal Grant insists is an ET doll.

It looked like a deformed llama sat on its ass, and Lucas already scared Mike with it twice. 

Eddie’s own gift, ( a mug with Tom Selleck posing shirtless) was jokingly fought over by Robin and Steve to the bitter end, while Gareth was defending the blue circular cookie tin (the kind that mothers shoved needles and sewing threads into, but shockingly enough actually held real cookies) with his life. 

Literally at one point, as he laid over it while Jeff tackled him. 

Eddie himself had gone for the gold, wanting the trophy Steve had procured. He too, was defending it aggressively against Dustin, who was currently stuck with Lucas’s gift (one of his sister’s pet rock creations she’d apparently tried to sell to her classmates. 

It was hideous.)

Now stretched out on his bed, legs in the air as he stares at the Ka-Bala game Steve had snuck into his arms with a wink, Eddie finds he’s the guy’s managed to go from haunting his whole life, to trying to haunt his heart. 

Made him want to do the thing he’d angrily been against this entire time--take a look at the guy closer. 

See past his bullshit, at the person hiding underneath. 

Find out what Steve was talking to his Uncle about, and why his house looked like a Christmas themed tomb. 

Why his parents were gone. What the hell made him he pick a cleric in D&D. How he met the kids and why Dustin thought the sun shines out of his ass. 

But most of all?

Why the hell had Steve Harrington put a note on the back of the Ka-Bala game? 

‘Hope you like the game..’  It read, with the dorkiest little smiley face. ‘I wouldn’t mind hanging out again.’

Below it was a number, and Eddie felt himself go red in the face. 

Steve Harrington was a fucking mystery, but one Eddie himself, had been personally invited to solve. 

‘Merry Christmas to me I guess.’ He thought, and tried very, very hard not to kick his legs in the air. 

[corroded-hellfire]

Inked - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie loves the doodles from his favorite girls so much that he gets them permanently etched on his skin.

Note: Dad!eddie, mom!reader

Words: 1.8k

“I can’t study anymore,” you whine, dropping your head down on your kitchen table. 

Eddie watches you with an adoring smile on his face. He slides his hand over and snatches up the pen you were taking your notes with. A tapping on the back of your hair has you picking up your head and looking at your boyfriend.

“Take a break,” Eddie says, offering the pen to you. “Do a little doodling.”

“I don’t wanna mess up my notes,” you say with the most adorable pout Eddie’s ever seen. 

“On me,” he answers. He flips his arm over so you can draw on the inside of his right wrist.

“I dunno what to draw,” you tell him.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

You wrinkle your nose in concentration, practically making Eddie fall in love with you all over again. Sometimes he feels like he has to restrain himself from telling you just how much you mean to him. He’s afraid he’ll scare you off if he tells you that he’d marry you tomorrow if you’d let him. 

An idea finally comes to you, and you hold his arm steady with one hand, and put the pen to his skin with the other. Your brow pinches in concentration as you drag the tip along to make the design. Eddie decides not to look until you’re finished, wanting to be surprised by your completed masterpiece. 

“Am I hurting you?” you ask, glancing up at him.

“Not at all.” 

“Almost done!”

“Take your time, baby.”

“Tada!” You lean back and put the cap on the pen. Eddie raises his wrist up to inspect your artwork. He grins at the little stick figure kitty cat you’ve drawn. 

“He’s perfect,” he tells you.

“She,” you insist. “She’s a female cat.”

“My apologies. She’s perfect,” Eddie corrects. 

“Thank you very much,” you say, pulling your textbook closer towards you, ready to study again. 

Between work and a family member’s wedding, you don’t get to see Eddie over the weekend. When he picks you up for school on Monday morning, he has a bright beaming smile on his face.

“Someone looks happy,” you say as you click your seatbelt into place. “You know we’re going to school, right?”

Eddie’s too excited, he can’t even find the words. So instead, he tugs up the sleeve of his leather jacket and shows you the inside of his wrist. At first you don’t understand what’s got him so worked up. It’s just the cat that you drew on him a few days ago, what’s the big deal? But you pick up on how the drawing doesn’t look the least bit faded after all this time. In fact, it looks a bit darker. The skin around the outline of the cat also looks raised and red. You suck in a harsh gasp as your eyes widen in realization.

“You got it tattooed on you?!” The pitch of your voice rings in Eddie’s ears and he lets out a chuckle.

“I did. Now I can look at my baby’s artwork anytime I want to.”

You want to tell him how absurd it is that he did this, that he might regret it later on. But you’re too overwhelmed by the fact that he got your cartoon permanently inked on his body. It’s not even anything meaningful, just a silly little cat. But to him, it was important enough to keep forever. Your eyes mist over, and you shake your head. 

“You don’t like it?” Eddie asks, his heart plummeting.

“Eds, I love it. I just can’t believe you’d do this for something I drew on you.” 

“There’s nothing I’d rather have on me,” he says. 

You unhook your seatbelt and launch yourself across the van at him. He laughs as he catches you, settling you in his lap as best he can. 

“I love you so much,” you mumble into his neck.

“I love you too, baby.” He tilts your chin up and presses his lips against yours. “Purr-ever.”

You wrinkle up your nose at the pun and shake your head. “No, we’re gonna have to come up with a name for this little feline. I will not stand for awful puns about her.”

Eddie laughs and nods his head in agreement. 

“We can do that.”

Ten years later, it’s a rainy Monday and Eddie’s trying to keep your four-year-old daughter entertained until you come home from work in a few hours. So far, they’ve played Barbies, Go Fish, and even watched The Little Mermaid twice. All after her day of preschool. 

Bailey’s now itching for another activity to amuse her and stumbles upon the box of crafts in her room. 

“Ooh, Daddy!” She shouts, even though he’s right behind her. “Can we color?”

“Sure thing, kiddo.”

He helps her carry the coloring books, crayons, and markers to the kitchen table. She spreads them all out, needing to see every last thing before she decides what she wants to work on. Settling on a Minnie Mouse coloring book, Bailey situates herself in her chair to get as comfortable as possible. Eddie selects a coloring book full of fairytales because he knows there are a few creatures in that one who remind him of D&D monsters. Father and daughter color in silence for a while, only the occasional hum of approval coming from either of them. Eddie glances over to see Bailey’s nose wrinkled up as she concentrates and her small tongue poking out of her pink lips. Traits she inherited from each of you right there on display. 

“Done!” Bailey announces once she’s finished her rendering of Minnie in a purple polka dot dress. Eddie looks over at it and nods appreciatively. 

“That’s real pretty, princess.”

Bailey flips through the pages but huffs when she can’t find another one that she wants to color. Eddie notices her impatience and quirks an eyebrow at her.

“What is it, rugrat?”

“Dunno what I wanna color,” she says, resting her chin in her hand, elbow propped up on the kitchen table. Eddie decides to let her figure it out on her own, wanting her to be able to make her own decisions. He goes back to coloring his picture of a fairy, but before long he feels a poking at his arm. Turning his head, he sees Bailey giving him an adorable grin—the one she uses when she wants something. 

“May I help you?” he asks. 

“Can I color on you?” Bailey asks, eyeing the pale expanse of Eddie’s left arm that his Iron Maiden t-shirt leaves uncovered. 

“I guess so.” Eddie caps his marker and holds his arm out to his little girl. Bailey grabs a lime green marker and holds it above the skin on the side of his elbow. She stares, little brows furrowing together.

“Dunno what to draw.”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

Bailey thinks a few moments longer before lowering the marker, letting the green ink stain her father's skin. Eddie hears the front door of the apartment open and a giddy smile spreads on his face, excited to see you even though it’s only been a few hours. He can hardly wait as he hears you taking your shoes off and setting your things down. When you walk into the kitchen, you chuckle at the sight in front of you.

“What’s going on here?” you ask.

“Hi, Mommy,” Bailey says, not taking her eyes off of her creation.

“A little artist is at work,” Eddie says, holding his right arm out for you. You take his hand, and he presses kisses across your knuckles. 

“Tada!” Bailey leans back and puts the cap back on the marker. Eddie turns to see a bright green smiley face on the side of his arm, one eye bigger than the other, and squiggly lines coming from the top of its head. 

“It’s lovely,” Eddie says, grinning at his daughter.

“He’s lovely,” you correct him, knocking your hip against him playfully. “I love the squiggles on his head.”

“That’s his hair! It’s like Daddy’s!”

Now that she says it, the green spirals do resemble Eddie’s curls. 

“I love it, princess,” he tells her. There’s a proud smile on her face as she leans up and presses a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. 

When you and Eddie are getting ready for bed that night, you chuckle when he takes his shirt off, giving you a better view of the green art. 

“Don’t be laughing at my new ink,” Eddie teases. “Best tattoo artist I ever had.”

“Oh, really?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at him. 

“Okay, it’s a tie,” Eddie relents. He turns his arm so he can get a better look at his little Picasso’s work. “Think I’ll get this inked too.” The way he smiles so fondly at the marker design gives you a warm and fuzzy feeling. 

“She’d love that,” you say as you pull down the blankets on your bed. 

“Don’t be jealous,” Eddie says as he climbs in on the other side. “Dinah is still my favorite.” Your husband holds up his wrist to you, showing off the stick figure cat you drew back in high school. “Favorite tattoo, that is. She’s my second favorite pussy.”

Eddie barks out a laugh as you lean over and swat at him.

The next day, Eddie waits anxiously outside of Bailey’s preschool classroom. Kids could be blunt and would tell you if they didn’t like something. What if Bailey wasn’t happy he got her drawing tattooed on him? Would she understand the emotion and sentiment behind it? Eddie doesn’t have time to think about it before the door opens and a dozen munchkins are swarming around, trying to find their parents. 

“Daddy!”

“Bailey!”

She runs to him, arms raised, and he gladly snatches her up and holds her on his hip.

“How was school, princess?”

“Was good,” she answers.

He starts to walk out of the school with her, and when he gets out into the parking lot, he jostles her a little in his arms.

“Wanna see something?” he asks.

“Okay.”

Eddie sets her down so she’s sitting on the trunk of the car and turns so she can better see his left arm. He tugs his sleeve up a little to give her a better view. Bailey grabs his arm in both of her small hands, making Eddie wince when she gets too close to the still-sensitive area. 

“I drew that,” Bailey points out. 

“You did,” Eddie says. “And this morning I got it tattooed on me.”

Bailey gasps and holds his arm even tighter. 

“You did?! My drawing is your tattoo? Forever?”

Eddie can’t help but chuckle at how awed she sounds. 

“Yeah, princess. Forever.” He turns to face her again and moves some of her unruly hair out of her eyes. “That’s how long I’m going to love you, too. Forever.”

“It looks cool, Daddy.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Cooler than Dinah the cat.”

Eddie laughs.

“Don’t tell Mommy.”

[tiredcreatur3]

shy reader asking dilf toji if she can suck him off 😗

he’d notice how you were staring at him all afternoon, eyeing both his face and his dick, eventually getting fed up with your bullshit and manhandling you into his lap, taking your chin into his hand, making you look at him so he’d finally figure out what’s your deal.

“what’s going on, pretty?” he whispered, looking into your eyes as you stared back, so so shy yet you knew that wirh toji, there was nothing to be shy about.

“i-i just thought t-that, you k-know..” you said, not really knowing how to approach this, how to ask for such thing, so grateful that the older was patient with you, not saying anything and just letting you take your time.

“was just wondering if i could suck.. s-suck you off?” you let out eventually, drawing little circles into his chest as you looked away, letting the male carefully run his thumb across your bottom lip, opening your mouth gently and sticking his thumb in, letting you suck and lick on it gently, seeing how badly you wanted it and what kind of a daddy would he be not to let you?

“atta girl.. asking so prettily just like that. ‘course you can.” he smiled, the other hand of his gently stroking your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you bobbed your head, giving his finger few last sucks before pulling away and getting off the older’s lap.

and oh, how adorable the male found you, stroking his dick and seeming so focused, licking the wet tip few times as he’d just lay back and watch, smiling at you. shyly sticking your tongue out and tapping the head on it, staring up at the older as you kneeled between his legs on the couch.

“so naughty..” he whispered, eyes fixed on your pretty self as you opened your mouth and took as much as you could, sucking and licking carefully, slowly beginning to bob your head up and down, letting out little satisfied noises, eyes closing for a second.

and the male would lie if he said this didn’t make him wanna push your head down and fuck the shit out of your throat and use you like nothing but a filthy bitch but he knew his little girl needed some time and you seemed to enjoy going at your own pace so he let you do exactly that.

[rainychaoloveshack]

Suggestive Boom!Sonic one shot cause hes so flirty and so silly? ty!!!

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ .  𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠.

sonic likes relaxing with you. alone.

content (16+). boom!sonic x gn!reader, suggestive!!!, kinda needy sonic, teasing-like relationship, stupid idiot definitely loves flirting with you, bunch of kisses… and licks. 

☂︎ wc. around 900 ☂︎ a/n. i was feelin a bit… devilish this one 😈 (the post write clarity hit hard.) HAHAHA i hope i did your request justice anon! first time writing smth like this… i tried to keep it at least 16+ (as per my comfortability with writing spice), but mightve leaned more into rated M, my fault ^^’

likes, reblogs, and especially comments are extremely appreciated!!!

“Hey, you know everyone already left, right?” That familiar blue blur the village knows and loves comes through the doorway, crossing his arms and leaning against the sofa as he looks you up and down, obviously skeptical about your continued presence in the hut. “What’cha still doing here? I thought Sticks was really urging you to go.”

You shrug your shoulders, letting a yawn slip out as you wave him off, shutting your eyes as the hammock swings gently at your movement. A nice, sundown nap is in order.

“You didn’t feel like going with them?” You don’t bother opening your eyes, but give him a curt nod as you feel his presence beside you, hearing the tapping of his foot against the hard, wooden floor. “Well, why don’t you just come with me then? I’m about to run a couple laps to and back from the beach.” 

Booooringgg. You click your tongue in disapproval, but open up an eye to peek at him, curious about the fact that he invited you to hang out with him in the first place. Usually he’d just bug Tails about things like that, or challenge Knuckles to a couple rounds of golf. Well, maybe you’re just a last resort, considering the fact that you’re the only one here…

“That doesn’t interest you either, huh?” Sonic tilts his head, his ear twitching at your silent agreement with a nod. Words aren’t even necessary. No point in wasting your breath on them.

He pouts, staring at you silently putting his gloved hands right on his hips, cocking his head to the other side as his foot keeps on tapping on the floor. After a few beats of silence, he nudges you in an annoying manner, causing you to let a small curse slip between your lips as you gaze up at him.

“Alright, scoot over.”

What?

Sonic grins as he shakes the hammock, forcing a yelp through your lungs as he urges you to make way for him, climbing inside the hammock to snuggle against you before you can even utter a refusal. Idiot.

He chuckles, a cheeky, clearly amused grin on his face as he presses his cheek against yours, a soft purr rumbling from within his chest as his playful demeanor falters for a moment, enjoying the warmth emitting from your body. If you weren't so bugged out with him currently, you would’ve teased him for his animalistic behavior, but the thought slipped out of your mind the second it entered once you feel another purr ring from him. Lucky bastard.

You scowl, nudging him away from you. You were having a nice, relaxing time, and then all of a sudden he wants to butt in like this?

“Oh, what?” Sonic grins at you, relishing in your embarrassed expression. “You’re acting like you don’t like it. I know you do.” Your scowl doesn’t falter with his statement. And what brings him to that assumption?

“Cause if you didn’t, you could’ve pushed me outta here already.” Sonic murmurs, that stupid sly grin popping back on his face as he straddles over your figure, before you can utter a protest to his statement, and he leans down to kiss your neck, letting his tongue lap up the spot briefly, before leaning more towards the right to suck gently, nipping at it with his teeth.

Oh. 

You flinch at the wet feeling plastered on your neck, but soon settle down, stifling back a groan as he draws his tongue across your jawline, leaning so close to your face that your lips briefly touch against each other.

“You didn't need to go with the others anyway.” He says, a small growl behind his words. “It’s more fun with me, yeah?” Sonic groans at his own impatience, leaning in as soon as he finishes his sentence, running his tongue against the tip of your fang with a small growl following afterward, pleased at your reaction to his advance once you reach your hand over to hold his, intertwining your fingers with his as he pins it down to the hammock.

Suddenly, Sonic angrily nips at your bottom lip, almost begging for your tongue to make contact with his, and you comply with his begging as he whines softly in the kiss, clearly happy with your decision, though he’ll never say it out loud. His ego’s much too big for something like that, but displaying his affections for you in a hut where anyone from the group could walk in is just fine. Hmm.

The kiss is cut short as Sonic breaks away, panting softly above you and chuckling softly. “Sorry. I dunno what’s up with me today…” Maybe some self-evaluation would do him some good.

… Who’re you kidding? You know you don’t care.

Sonic’s soft breathing mixes with yours, along with his soft kisses against your cheek, shifting slightly on top of you as his leg straddles your body, cuddling and bringing you closer. 

What a loser.

You groan in a fake annoyed tone, muttering curses towards him as he laughs beside you, yet you snuggle closer to his chest and those curses turn into gentle kisses leading up his chest, tugging away his brown bandana with your teeth, and you relish in the sound of Sonic’s laughs cut short, and his breath hitching in his throat, his hand resting itself on your hips before making its way up your own torso, 

Eh. This isn’t so bad. You should stay back and just relax in Sonic’s Hut more often. Alone.

Yeah…

(i was actually gonna post this last night but tumblr was being bad >:[ its alright lol)

[miguel-ohara-lover]

Kinktober day 10 - Ghost!Miguel

Prompt list

CW: nsfw, ghost, ftm!reader, kinda creepy, “pussy”/“cunt” used, squirting, eating out

Note: Tonight is gonna be a bit short because uh yeah depression fucking sucks ass… anyway- I like ghosts :] (🎶if you have ghoosssttt you have everythiiing-🎶)

Ps don’t question it it’s fictiooooonnnn…

Creepy stuff never bothered you before, and hey creepy generally meant cheaper. So when you heard of this really nice house that was half price do you a murder that took place, fuck yeah you wanna buy that shit. A little murder didn’t hurt especially when it meant you get cheap shit and it’s not like you committed the crime sooo…

The random noises and random moving objects was all easy to explain away. You probably forgot you moved it or it was probably the wind. Easy shit to explain. Though… seeing a figure of a man in the hallway was weird… You thought someone had broken in but as you got closer he disappeared.

This started happening more often, you’d see him, try to approach, and he’d vanish. He didn’t run and hide, he just went poof. Eventually you learned to not approach him, and instead would wave. After a few times he waved back, and that surprised you. Before it didn’t seem like he knew you were there, and know he’s acknowledged your existence.

He started sticking around more, started to acknowledge your presence more. He was very handsome for whatever the fuck he was. You figured he was a ghost, a spirit trapped in the mortal realm after his untimely death.

You noticed he would hang around more often, watching what you did or what you had on the tv. It didn’t bother you, and it was kind of nice knowing you had friendly eyes on you. At least you thought he was friendly, considering he hasn’t tried to possess and or murder you by now.

Some quick research told you what you were curious about. His name was Miguel O’Hara, his murder was unsolved. Perhaps that’s why he hung around, unfinished business and all. You tried to get him to open up to you, but he never spoke a word to you. He would just watch you and vanish before any progress is made.

One day, you were getting dressed in the morning when you noticed out of the corner of your eye he was standing in the doorway. He was watching you, but you didn’t feel unsafe.

“You have scars. Did someone hurt you?” He spoke for the first time since you met him. His voice surprised you. It sounded soft and distant, almost an echo to it.

It took you a moment to realize what he was referring to. “Oh.” You looked down at yourself, then back at him. “No, they’re just from surgery.”

“Ah. Okay then.” He nods and looks around your room.

“Do you have to stand there while I get dressed?” You chuckled a little. You didn’t entirely mind, what could he do he’s dead. He didn’t respond, and instead stood there like he had been.

You shrugged and continued changing, removing your pants and underwear. You bent over looking at your dresser for some panties. He looked over and would have blushed if he had blood. Your pussy looked so perfect to him, so wet and just asking for his attention.

“I can feel you staring.” You spoke up, still bend over. Suddenly, cold hands grabs your bare hips. You let out a small gasp as the freezing touch. He moves a hand from your hip to your pussy, dragging a cold finger through your slick folds and sending shivers through your body.

He stayed silent as a finger slipped inside you, making you shudder and moan. Part of you wondered how this was possible, how was he able to touch you if he’s dead. You weren’t complaining, but the wonder was still there. The thoughts were immediately forgotten, however, when you felt another finger circle your clit, drawing louder moans from you.

Miguel seemed pleased with, and pulled his hand away. It was silent and still for a moment, and you started to wonder if he had walked away. That was until you felt something else against your cunt, something hard.

You bit your lip as you felt his cock push into you, stretching your already tight pussy. Fuck he was big. How could anyone wanna murder a guy with THAT in his pants. He held onto your hips, guiding you down his shaft until your pelvis was against his. Miguel’s hands moved upward, under your shirt as he felt your body, his fingers eventually finding your scars and touching the flesh.

He turned his attention to your nipples, lightly tugging and teasing, earning little grunts of pleasure from you. He enjoyed that sound, it made his dick twitch. Your pussy contracted around him and he groaned slightly, starting to thrust his hips slow at first.

Miguel steadily picked up the pace until he was slamming into you at an inhuman speed. You cried out and moaned into the palm of your hand as this spirit ravaged your cunt. You were dripping wet just from the initial touches to your pussy. A hand went back down and played with your clit, gently tugging and rubbing circles as you whined.

It was so overstimulating, everything was pulling you closer and closer to the edge. The warm knot in your gut formed quickly, with all this pleasure it wasn’t hard. He was eager and ready to please, ready to pleasure you in any way he could, you were gorgeous to him.

You let out a loud moan as you came from his fingers and cock. His pelvis and lower torso were drenched from you squirting on him. The sight made him unravel immediately. He groaned and grunted as he spilled inside you, ice cold cum filling your pussy as his fingers moved faster, drawing more squirt juices from you and making you cry out.

He pulled out and released your clit from the torment. You panted and leaned against your dresser to stay upright, clit twitching from so much stimulation. He couldn’t help but admire you even more, so soaking wet from cumming, it drove him made

Miguel moved onto his knees and licked your pussy, making you moan and whimper slightly. He loved those sounds so much. His mouth wrapped around your clit and he sucked gently, making you cry out once more. He was so eager, happily pleasuring your clit all over again. He pushed his cold fingers into your pussy and finger fucked you roughly as he licked and sucked your clit, hoping for another shower.

You whined and rocked your hips a little, rubbing your pussy on his face as the pleasure overtook you. You saw stars in the air as reality melted away, and all you could think of was Miguel’s mouth, pleasing your cunt so perfectly. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding you against his face, eating you out as if it were his last meal.

His grip tightened and you could feel another orgasm building up inside you. It wasn’t long before you came a second time, squirting once more and giving Miguel that shower he wanted. He didn’t stop going to town on your cunt, however. He just couldn’t get enough, holding your trembling legs as he feasted.

Eventually he did stop, after making you cum a third… fourth… and fifth time. By then you were gone, thoughts incoherent and words just a mumbling mess, unable to keep yourself up anymore. He helped you into bed, wiping up any mess left on you and tucking you in.

“That was fun.” He spoke up. In your sleepy mindless state all you could manage was “mhm”. He didn’t mind, smiling down at you as you drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

He’d watch over you of course. Always.

———

Tag list(feel free to ask to be on it):

@6thhokageswife @zaunsin @famouscattale @m4dyy @thedevax @migueloharastruelove @queerponcho @lynnxnnyl

[ddejavvu]

hotch being protective after a bullet grazes Y/N’s ear causing her ear to bleed and to have trouble hearing??

JJ's talking but you're not listening. Well, you're listening, but you're not hearing. There's a dull ringing in your left ear, brought on by the bullet that had whizzed past it hours earlier. The EMTs had let you go with copious amounts of bandages and a warning to stay away from loud noises as much as possible, but here you are on the jet, straining to hear your teammates converse.

"She said she caught Michael drawing on the bathroom wall," A deep voice from beside your right ear startles you, the only clear words you've heard for an hour. Hotch has leaned himself down to hover beside your ear, lips a centimeter away as he fills you in.

"Oh," You breathe, a chuckle lost in the sound, "Thanks."

"Mhm." He nods once, you know from the way his nose grazes your ear. "Does your head hurt?"

"A bit."

"I figured. Ears are sensitive, when we land you should go straight home and sleep. Set your phone to vibrate instead of ring, and stick it under your pillow. Trust me, alarms won't work."

Your brow furrows, "How do you know so much about this?"

"A while ago," Aaron starts, hesitant, "Before you joined. A bomb went off next to me, and it damaged my ear. The only time I've ever been late to work was because I couldn't hear my alarm."

"That and the time you got stabbed," You grumble, "I never knew a bomb went off next to you."

"It's not exactly small talk," He reaches for your hand, using the edge of his short fingernail to scrape dried blood out of the bed of your nail, a remnant from when you'd grasped your ear after the gunshot.

"This job sucks," You sigh, knocking your head against his shoulder. You've caught Rossi's attention, and he offers you a fond smile while you use Hotch as a pillow.

"It has its drawbacks. How's your ear?" Morgan lifts his chin in your direction, and though you've heard him clearly, you decide to tease him.

"What?" You lift your head from Hotch's shoulder, leaning in like you can't hear him. Prentiss snorts, and you double down.

"How's your ear?" Derek taps his own, and you scrunch your nose.

"Huh?"

"Stop," Aaron chuckles, elbowing you in the side. Derek finally catches on amidst his team members giggles, and kicks you softly under the table.

"It's okay," You groan, burying your face in your crossed arms on the table when JJ leans into your side. One of Hotch's large hands comes up to rub against your back in soothing circles, and the tension in your shoulders loosens.

Conversation resumes after a sympathetic moment of silence for you. You aren't roused from your drowsy snooze when the plane lands, unable to hear the rough rumbling of the engine, but Aaron gets close to your ear to let you know you've arrived.

"Y/N," He brushes hair away from your face, hand heavy on your shoulder, "We're here. I got your bag, can you drive?"

"I'm deaf, not blind," You huff, grumpy when awoken, "I can drive."

"Okay," Aaron chuckles, familiar with your post-nap grouchiness, "Here. Your bag is on the table, okay?"

"Mhm," You nod, rubbing sleep from your eyes as he heads for the door, "See you tonight, Aaron."

You don't need to hear him to know that he tells you he loves you when he steps off the jet, but you see the blush on his cheeks just fine when you return the sentiment.

[postersofleon]

i don't remember who started it, but emo leon is rotting my mind now and it's your fault. very slight smut

emo leon who writes on your wrists and shares his hairties either for you to use them or for you to have around. he isn't willing to die his hair back, but he let's you do his eye liner and eyeshadow.

emo leon takes slutty pictures and puts them on his myspace. if you squint, you can see yourself sleeping and figure out this is an afterglow picture. leon was leaning a bit to show off his lean yet muscular body.

he wants to recreate the "three cheers for revenge" album cover with you. you two mix match socks, like red and black socks. he draws those cliché emo drawings on your shoes.

in your college dorm, leon paints your nails and you do small stick and pokes on his skin. leon likes you helping him to clean his piercings.

he is even more whiny and possessive when he is emo. he is always cling around your body, he hold on to your belt loops.

he buys you small plushies and bracelets. he dedicates songs you.

he loves eating your out with his tongue piercings. his fingers played around your folds and sucks on them gently. he rubs the tip of nose against your clit and it's just teasing and shit. he wears top coat to avoid his nail polishing chipping.

he likes ripping fishnets and keeping himself between your legs. he wants you to feel his cold piercings and his hot breath combined together

edit: shit i know emo leon will buy for his partner

[♡]

[punkitt-is-here]

How can I cultivate the same, "just keeping making stuff all the time" kind of energy you have? It's very impressive and something I wish I could do!

well, theres a couple reasons i think! one is that i just found ways to be satisfied with small amounts of work. its in part because of my ADHD, but my parents were always trying new things (motorcycles, leatherwork, acrylic paint, collage art, photography, video editing) so that definitely rubbed off on me; i had a great example of people just wanting to try stuff. i keep making stuff all the time because i love trying out new things; you don't have to be an expert to try something new! you just have to have a desire for it! wanna make a zine? google it! wanna write a comic? give it a shot! wanna get into woodworking? buy a carving knife and find a stick or something! i think theres plenty of ways to find entry points into interesting stuff and you gotta let yourself be okay with making shit that sucks just because its fun. which leads me to my second point!!

im okay with being dogshit at stuff! i try new things, i kind of suck at them, and i think it's either 1. cool that i made it this far or 2. kinda funny that this is what its like at the moment. i know that sucking is never permanent, everything can be improved with time, and rarely does anyone ever magically get good at something first try. i think of myself as a talented artist, but its over the course of 2+ decades of drawing; im always improving, and no matter what im going to find things i want to get better at, so why fault myself now for not being perfect? a couple of months ago i really wanted to try woodcarving, so i made spoon with my dad. did it turn out great? not really! you cant even use it as a spoon! but im glad i tried it, it was fun, i had a great time with my dad, and now i know a little bit more going in next time. the idea that you have to be perfect or make tangible progress every single time you try something new is a recipe for burnout. i promise you, it doesnt matter if something doesn't come out like God's Gift to Humanity! Did you have fun? did you learn something? are you satisfied in some small part? good!

(pictured: tha spoon)

last, im just really easy to please myself! I'll make a doodle or implement an idle animation in my game or color a piece and go "wow! thats so cool i did that :)" and it really is just a matter of realizing that its fucking COOL to create stuff, no matter how small! whatever you made didn't exist before you, especially in your own unique way, and now it does! doesn't that rule?! i'm obsessed with it! even if its just a stick figure, its a stick figure you made, and it wasn't there before. thats fucking awesome!!! art is so cool!!!! i think that being happy with small goals and victories is a great way of trying out new things and showing off cool stuff u made, no matter what skill level. :) this turned into a whole big thing, but i hope this helps! tl;dr is try things if they seem fun, be okay with not being good at them, and find stuff about it that makes you happy or satisfied!

[nahoney22]

Hello! I absolutely love love LOVE your work. I be rereading on here and on Ao3 and your writing is just phenomenal!! I wanted to know if I can please request an NSFW fem reader x Hunter.

Reader is mad or annoyed with “The Great Sergeant of clone force 99” always on top of her ever since she joined the batch like how she almost got injured but it was only Hunter’s overprotectiveness that might have been the problem and at some point they get in to a really heated argument on the Marauder where she wants to leave the batch and Hunter will be glad because he doesn’t have to look after someone…. until something snaps between them and all hell breaks loose. Even hidden feelings are let loose lol. Also, there’s this song that I picture it with for some reason. It’s “when you coming to see me?” by Mawr if you wanna take listen :).

Anyways, again I love your work and ive never requested something to anyone before so idk if the request is well written and/or too long😅 but i know you can execute it so well if you decide on accepting my request. Thank you!!!! ♥️♥️♥️

Later’s Better Than Never*** 🌊

🫧 Pairings: Hunter x Female!Reader

word count: 3.6k

prompts: none

When tensions finally reaching breaking point, your need to leave becomes evident. Hunter however makes it harder than it should be.

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Female reader, explicit sexual content and language, dirty talk, light dom!Hunter, very light breathplay ie choking, fingering, finger sucking, cum eating, oral ie blowjob, p in v sex, enemies to lovers, mutual pining, love confessions, Hunter is overprotective, light angst, arguing, not proofread.

authors note: Sorry for the wait my lovely @lamiliani, enjoy, I hope this is okay! 🩵

Hunter had been unbearable since the mission briefing.

The plan was straightforward: infiltrate a high-stakes gala, seduce the host, and extract crucial information about a new Imperial weapon. The client you were working for had specifically chosen you for this task after witnessing your charisma and capability. The rest of the squad respected and trusted you, but a certain Sergeant seemed determined to undermine your confidence at every turn.

"Remember, stick to the plan," Hunter ordered for what felt like the hundredth time as you adjusted your attire in the Marauder. The sleek dress you wore was perfect for the gala, accentuating your figure in a way that was both elegant and seductive. Which was a total change considering your normal attire of battered and worn armour and civvies that were desperate for a good wash.

You sighed, your patience wearing thin. "I know the plan, Hunter," you retorted, turning to face him. The frustration in your voice was evident.

Hunter's eyes bore into yours, a mix of concern and frustration etched into his features. His jaw was set, the muscles in his neck tense. "One slip-up, and it could all go wrong. We can’t afford that."

You narrowed your eyes, knowing he was referring to the time when the plan had not gone exactly as intended. It had been a life-or-death situation, but you had learned from it. Besides, the only person you had put in danger was yourself, so you didn’t understand why he was still bitter about it.

"That 'slip-up' was months ago," you shot back, your temper flaring. "I’ve proven myself since then."

"I’ll believe it when I see it." Hunter’s tone was cold as he stormed off into the cockpit, leaving you staring daggers at his back. How insufferable could one man be?

You took a deep breath, trying not to let it get to you. You mentally and physically prepared yourself, going over the plan in your head with determination. You had this.

It was just a shame someone else didn’t think so.

The gala was in full swing. You slipped into the crowd as planned, your eyes on the target. You were enticing and seductive as you engaged him in conversation, your charm drawing him in instantly. Everything was going according to plan as he began to let slip his plans.

Then Hunter appeared.

His sudden arrival, a shadow in the background, disrupted your focus. The target noticed your concerned distraction, suspicion flickering in his eyes. Before you could salvage the situation, a gentle hand on his arm to draw his attention back to you, his arm wrapped around your neck into a chokehold as alarms started to blare, and chaos erupted.

Cursing under your breath, you freed yourself with ease and struck a punch straight to his gut before ducking to cover as blaster fire whizzed past your head. Everything happened so fast and so slow at the same time. You barely managed to escape with the others, the mission a total failure. And this time, you refused to let it be seen as your fault.

Back on the Marauder, you let everything out. You marched up the gangplank, ripping the bangles off your wrists and the pins that had secured your hair in place, tossing them across the ship carelessly. You let everyone file in, steam practically blowing out of your ears as your eyes landed on the Sergeant.

"What is your problem? Why can’t you trust me?" you yelled as soon as the ramp closed behind you, your voice echoing through the ship. Your chest heaved with the effort of keeping your anger in check, your hands trembling slightly.

"You weren’t getting the job done!" Hunter growled, his tone dripping with frustration. His eyes were dark, his brows furrowed in anger. "You just stood there twirling your drink around all night."

You stared at him in disbelief, looking to the others who avoided eye contact at all costs. "I wasn’t doing anything? Hunter, he was about to tell me his plans, and then you just swooped in like you have some damn savior complex."

His jaw tightened, the tension in the air thick enough to cut. "Maybe if you weren’t so reckless in the past, I could have let you get on with it."

"The client wanted me to do it. I wasn’t being reckless!" You seethed, turning red in the face. Your fists clenched at your sides, nails digging into your palms. "One mistake, Hunter! Just one!" You stepped closer, your voice low and dangerous. "How many times do I have to prove myself?"

Hunter’s eyes narrowed, his fists just as tightly clenched as his jaw. His breath came in short, sharp bursts. "You don’t get it, do you? One mistake is all it takes to get you killed."

His words cut deep, a mixture of anger and hurt swirling within you. Your heart pounded, each beat echoing your frustration and the feeling of being made to feel useless. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, a mix of rage and something more primal simmering just beneath the surface.

"Guys, stop it!" Omega’s voice trembled, her distress clear. Her eyes were wide, shimmering with unshed tears.

Echo placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Let’s give them some space," he said softly, leading her towards the exit with Tech and Wrecker following. "They need to sort this out." He looked at both of you with a stern gaze before he left.

As the door closed, sealing you in the Marauder alone with Hunter, silence fell.

Finally, you both started to speak at once, voices overlapping. Hunter gestured for you to go ahead, his expression begrudging.

"I’m tired of this, Hunter," you began, your voice steady despite the storm inside you that was waiting to tear this ship apart. "Tired of you treating me like I’m not good enough. If this is how it’s going to be, maybe I should leave."

Something flickered in his eyes—hurt, anger, maybe something more—but he masked it quickly. "Maybe you should go," he said, his voice rough. His expression was a mixture of frustration and something else, something softer. "I am done having to watch over you, babysitting you."

You scoffed at him, shaking your head in disbelief. "Has it ever come to your attention that maybe you’re the problem?" You pointed at his chest, your finger almost digging into the fabric of his shirt. "You’re weighing this whole team down recently, and I want to know why."

"There’s nothing wrong with my leadership," he snapped back, his voice sharp. But as he spoke, the space between you seemed to shrink. You were close, so close. His breath was hot on your skin. "You just don’t know how to be careful."

Your heart raced, the anger giving way to a heated flush spreading through your body. The proximity was intoxicating, his scent, his presence overwhelming your senses. You could feel the tension morphing into something you never thought you’d feel.

His breath was on your skin, his presence overwhelming. "Say the word, Hunter," you challenged, voice low into a whisper. "And I’ll go."

He didn’t move, didn’t speak. His pupils were blown the more you looked at each other, breathing shallow. You watched his throat work as he swallowed hard, struggling to find his voice.

Your hands rested on the underside of the console, securing you in place as you were practically backed up into it. And confusingly, you were a different type of riled up.

Then, you saw him wet his lower lip, just a touch that made your heart momentarily stop. And he noticed—he noticed. And he smirked. Of course he would; his heightened senses would be picking up on everything—the quickening of your pulse, the heat pooling between your thighs. You sincerely hoped he didn’t notice.

"Hunter," you spoke louder and hopefully more sternly, but the slight tremble in your tone begged to differ. "Tell me you want me to go."

His eyes momentarily closed, conflict spreading across his features. "Tell me to go," you whispered again, but again came no reply.

You waited for a few more moments before you found yourself laughing, almost pitifully. For yourself, and for him. "I don’t have time for this," you grumbled and turned to move away from him, but there was a sudden hold on your arm, stopping you completely.

Your gaze snapped back to him, eyes wide. His, however, flickered down your body, lingering, then met yours again, blazing with an intensity that made your heart stop once more. The silence stretched, electric, until you could bear it no longer. "Hunter?" you whispered.

Suddenly, he pulled you closer, body flush against his and his lips just inches from yours. With a soft murmur, voice hoarse, he said, "Don’t go."

Your breath hitched, your body responding to the unspoken desire in his words. The bitterness, the anger, it all melted away, leaving only a new and raw need. You both closed the gap, lips crashing together in a fierce, desperate kiss.

His hands roamed your body, finding their way to the small of your back while your hands tangled in his hair, running and tugging the textured locks through your fingers. You gasped as he pulled you even closer than before, his body pressing you back to the control panel. The heat of his touch pushed shivers of excitement down your spine. How was this happening? And why didn’t it feel wrong?

Hunter pulled back just enough to mutter against your lips, “I’ve always cared. More than I should.”

You met his gaze, seeing the vulnerability there, and whispered, “Then show me.”

His response was immediate and fervent. Hunter lifted you effortlessly, placing you onto the console before his strong hands slipped under your dress, his touch rough and impatient, yet undeniably thrilling. His fingers traced the length of your legs, caressing your thighs and emitting electric jolts of desire through you.

"You were so worked up when we were arguing," he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. "I could smell how wet you were for me."

You were speechless. Then, you gasped as his fingers trailed further up, hiking your dress higher until his hands cupped your sex. The realisation that you were bare beneath the dress, no panties to obstruct his touch made him breathless.

"Fuck," he breathed shakily, his fingers slipping between your folds, feeling the slickness there. "No panties? That’s… that’s so sexy of you." He purrs, gauging your reaction as he brushes a thumb over your clit. “And you’re so wet.”

Your breath hitched, a moan escaping your lips as he began to explore you. His fingers moved expertly, teasing your entrance before slipping inside. You arched into him, your body responding eagerly to his touch. “H-Hunter!”

"Is this what you wanted?" he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "To be fucked by me?"

You could only nod, biting your lip hard as your voice lost to the sensations overwhelming you. His fingers thrust in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit with an agonisingly beautiful precision. “Mmm, you like this don’t you? You feel beautiful.” The pleasure builds quickly, a coil of heat tightening in your core.

“I love it, Hunter.” You gasp. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Hunter’s other hand gripped your hip, holding you in place as he worked you towards the edge. "So tight around my fingers."

You whimpered, your hands clutching at his shoulders, desperate for more as your body shakes. His pace quickened, his fingers curling inside you to hit that perfect spot that made you see stars. Your body trembled, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

"That’s it," he growled, his voice a rough caress as his lips breathe down your neck. "Come for me. I know you can do it. Come all over my fingers, baby girl.”

With a final, desperate cry, you shattered. His fingers, the pace, his pet names, everything makes your climax crash over you in throbbing waves. Hunter didn’t stop though; his fingers continued their relentless thrash on your clit, prolonging your pleasure until you were a quivering mess, your juices pouring down your thighs.

When he finally pulled his fingers from you, they were slick with your cum. His gaze locked with yours, dazed and in awe as you watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a greedy hunger. The sight of him, the feel of his lips around his fingers, sent another jolt of arousal through you. “You l-look good doing that,” you say bashfully, even more so as he collected more on the fingers he just sucked and placed them flat against his tongue, groaning desperately.

"You taste incredible," he murmured, his eyes dark and hungry. "I never thought someone could taste so sweet."

Without another word, he sank to his knees before you, spreading your legs wider to grant him better access as he pushed your dress up again. The sight of him there, between your thighs, was definitely a sight to behold.

His hands grip your hips, pulling you to the edge of the console. His breath was hot against your swollen folds, making you shudder in eagerness. "I want to taste you again," he smirks, his tone low and gravelly. "I want you to come on my tongue."

“Take me, Hunter, it’s all yours.” The first swipe of his tongue was both a shock and a relief. You gasped, your hands flying to his hair, gripping the locks to hold him in place.

"Hunter," you moaned, your voice trembling. "Oh, fuck."

His tongue moved with a desperate hunger, lapping at your folds and circling your clit with a precision that made you writhe. He groaned against you, the vibrations adding to the intense pleasure building inside you. “I love hearing you swear… such a dirty mouth.”

Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of his mouth, more of that intense sensation. Hunter’s grip on your hips tightened, almost bruising as holds you steady as literally he devoured you. He alternated between long, slow licks and rapid, flicking movements that had you teetering on the edge of another orgasm. The sounds he made—groans, grunts, and the slick noises of his mouth on your wetness—only heightened the moment as you matched his sounds with tender moans of your own.

You tugged at his hair, needing him closer, deeper. "Don’t stop," you pleaded, your voice breathless and desperate as you begin to roll your hips against his face. "Please, don’t stop."

He didn’t. If anything, your words spurred him on, his tongue working even more fervently. He sucked on your clit, gently at first, then harder, drawing it into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it before plunging his finger into you for that extra push. Your entire body tensed, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable.

You cried out, your nails digging into his scalp as you came again, the orgasm crashing over you with a force that left you shaking, more so than before.

Slowly, he pulled back from your cunt, his lips glistening with your aftermath. He looked up at you, his eyes blown and satisfied. "Stars, I can’t get enough of you… I’ve dreamt about being between your legs.”

His words surprised you, wondering if he was just saying it in the heat of the moment or if he was saying the truth but for now, you could only nod, still trying to catch your breath. Your body hummed with satisfaction, every nerve ending still tingling from the intensity of your release. Hunter stood, his hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your hips.

"You’re amazing," he murmured, leaning in to kiss you again. This time, the kiss was slow, languid, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, sharing your taste between you. You sighed into the kiss, your hands wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.

When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily. "I’ve wanted this for so long," he confessed, his voice a soft rumble.

“But… I thought you didn’t want me.” You whisper against his lips, eyes closed as you try to get your head around everything.

He sighs, shaking his head slowly. “I’ve been pushing you away because… I couldn’t imagine if anything bad were to happen to you.”

“You’ve been cruel to me,” you reiterate, a little bitter as you pull your head back, “but you…” you piece it all together, his obvious jealousy of you and that guy tonight, his toughness of overprotectiveness. He cared. In a bad way. But alas, he cared. And a part of you always wanted him. You were just too determined never to admit it.

“I’m sorry,” he says with honesty, his hands leaving your hips to take a hold of each of your hands, “I really am.”

You search his face, coming to your conclusion. Hunter's eyes blazed with need as you gently pushed him back. At first he thought you were going to push him away completely, telling him this was a mistake but then, you dropped to your knees before him.

Hunter's eyes widened in surprise but then glowed with hunger while your hands were steady, moving to his belt, undoing it. With your voice husky with desire, you whisper. "Let me?”

He nodded, swallowing hard. You freed his hardened cock from the confines of his pants, the sight of it making your mouth water instantly. “You have such a beautiful cock,” you say sweetly, giving it an experimental pump. You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the tip, tasting the precum that had already gathered there from earlier antics.

Hunter groaned, his hands finding their way into your hair, gently guiding you. "Fuck, you’re beautiful," he muttered, his voice thick with need.

You took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head before taking him deeper. His grip on your hair tightened, and you could feel the tension in his body, the restraint he was barely managing to hold onto. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him in deeper, your tongue tracing the vein along the underside of his shaft.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his head falling back, exposing his throat. You glanced up, taking in the sight of him—the way his lips parted, the way his eyes fluttered shut in pleasure. It spurred you on. It made you want to give him everything.

You started a steady rhythm, bobbing your head up and down his length, taking him as deep as you could. Each time you pulled back, you flicked your tongue over the sensitive tip, making him shudder. You could feel his control slipping, his hips starting to thrust gently into your mouth.

“Just like that,” he groaned, his voice ragged. “You’re so good at this.” His free hand grasps your jaw, holding your head in place as his gentle thrusts become more eager. “That’s it baby.”

His words sent a thrill through you, and you doubled your efforts, sucking him harder, faster and matching his thrusts. You reached up, cupping his balls and rolling them gently in your hand, feeling his body respond to your touch. His breathing grew more ragged, his grip on your hair tighter. Soon his hand on your jaw moved to your throat, chuckling as he practically felt the way your throat contracts and tightens with every time he moves in and out of your mouth.

“Stars, you’re amazing,” he panted. “Keep going, keep going.”

But then he pulled you back, his cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop. He was breathing hard, his eyes wild with need. “I can’t… I need you,” he growled, pulling you up to your feet.

You barely had time to register what was happening before he was lifting you, your back pressed against the console again but with your dress being ripped away from your body. He spread your thighs, and then he was there, his cock pressing against your entrance.

He slid into you in one smooth thrust, burying himself to the hilt. The sensation of him filling you completely made you cry out, your breathing harsh. “Hunter,” you gasped, your voice trembling.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, his hips starting a relentless rhythm. “Such a nice pussy, so perfect.”

He moved with a desperation that matched your own, each thrust deep and hard, hitting that perfect spot inside you. You start to grin, never having been so fucked desperately in all your life. He was disheveled, panting your name like a man starved as his cock sinks deep into you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, needing more. A lot more. “You’re fucking me so good, Hunter! D-don’t stop.”

“You’re mine,” he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

His sudden words sent you over the edge, your body tensing as another orgasm ripped through you. You cried out his name, your nails dragging down his back, leaving marks and claiming him.

“Yes, come for me,” he urged, his thrusts growing more erratic. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”

You did, your body spasming around him, milking him. His grip on your hips tightened, his own release imminent. He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “I’m going to fill you up,” he panted. With a final, deep thrust, he came, his body shuddering against yours. You held him close, your own body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm. He stayed there, buried deep inside you, his breath slowly evening out.

“I love you,” he whispered again, his voice softer now, more tender.

You smiled, your hands gently caressing his back as you both succumbed to the evening. “I love you too.”

Tags: @lulalovez @photogirl894 @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder r @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari i @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi

@greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420

@ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 1 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka a @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino

[grippingbeskar]

i wanna be yours

frank castle x fem!reader

warnings: explicit content minors dni! 18+ (mxf, lil splash of dirty talk, first time together?) swearing, mentions of canon typical violence

a/n: based on this request from the lovely @lemon-world1 you know i’d write whatever you give me okay <3

“Frank.” You breathe out at the sight of him. He’s the last person you would have thought would be on your doorstep. You thought… you could have sworn on your life that yesterday would have been the last time you’d ever see him.

It broke something in you, but it was for the best.

Your work was over. Whatever you did or didn’t have with him, all the late night stake outs and crammed car rides, it had to end when your business did. You both knew that. You didn’t live lives that were compatible with indulging the warmth he gave you every time he looked at you like he did.

Like he was right now.

He’s panting like he ran here, cropped hair sticking to the side of his face. Rain drips off his nose, slips over the healed cut on his cheek. You remember how he got it, how his blood splattered across your face and how you screamed his name. It was the first time you realised you needed him, that little scare.

“What are you doing here?” You manage to speak, but he’s not said a word. He’s just breathing hard, both hands gripping the edge of your doorframe, eyes boring into you. He’s so tall, he always looks down on you. Usually it doesn’t bother you, but right now you feel small. Like prey, waiting to be hunted down and torn apart. That’s how intense he is sometimes, and it’s impossible not to be sucked into it.

He steps into your apartment, and you step back to give him the room. Your eyes flutter, confusion and temptation swirling in a sudden battle in your stomach. This was not smart. You were a lone wolf— you worked alone. That’s how you survive.

You should tell him to leave.

Now.

His hand slips over yours, gently, to where your holding the door open. He takes over, and shuts it behind him. Your hand follows it, and when the lock clicks your fate shut, his hand doesn’t let yours go.

“Frank.” You say again, weaker this time. He lets his hand wander higher on your arm.

“I thought about it.” He says, his voiced dry and strained.

“Thought about what?”

“You. I’m always fuckin’ thinking about you.” He shakes his head, like he’s mad at himself for it.

You understand. You can’t get him out of your head, either.

“I’m not lettin’ you leave.” Frank says as he steps closer to you, and meets no resistance when you let him tug your hips closer to his. Despite the rain, he’s warm on your body, lighting up all the pieces of you that he’s made his own. “Don’t go.”

“I have to— our job is done here. This—“ You gesture between the both of you, where your chests nearly touch “— this has to be done, too. We put everyone in danger if I stay.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” He nearly growls it out. You bite your lip to stop a smile, his hands moving up to dance along your ribcage. He drops your eyes and scans your body, drawing along the line where the two of you meet. “I can’t let you go.”

“I don’t want to let you go, either. But what about—“

“I’ll figure it out. Just tell me you’ll stay with me.” His eyebrows furrow on his hardened face, and you want to smooth the lines of him. To take the tension out of his face like you know you can.

His words pull your heartstrings. You know you sacrifice everything, put everyone in danger if the two of you risk being seen together. But… the feeling of his hands along your body, the way his head dips and leaves a trail of zapping warmth along your jaw as he softly drags his mouth along your skin, tasting you. You couldn’t say no to him. You wouldn’t dream of it.

“Stay with me.” He calls to you again, and you’re already nodding when he claims your mouth and kisses you deep.

It moves quickly. It’s hard and fast, the way he scoops you up and wraps your legs around his hips. He spins you around, your apartment suddenly foreign to you as you get lost in the tangle of his tongue on yours. Things clatter and smash as he shoves you onto the nearest table, pressing your back to the wall. He groans when your hips roll against him, nipping your bottom lip with his teeth.

He grabs at your hips, your sides, your face— any part of you close enough to hold and pull closer is covered by his claiming hands. You drag your fingers through his wet hair, dragging the tips of your nails over his scalp. He groans again, muffling the sound against you as he starts to bruise your neck with his wandering mouth. You let your head fall back, feeling him suck at the skin under your jaw.

You want him to do it harder. More noticeable. You want people to know— you were his. Fuck everyone else, fuck safety. This was worth burning the world to the ground. His teeth nip at the sensitive skin, smoothing an apology with a warm kiss, and you moan his name.

“Frank.” The room echos it back to you, and you move again. Frank lifts you, attaching his mouth back to yours and encouraging the slow roll of your hips in his hands. He’s cupped your ass completely, gripping the flesh and slipping his hands under your shorts so he can touch more of you.

He was greedy like this. Always wanting more, wanting you to bare nothing to him. It was impossible to be insecure with him— he bathed every inch of your skin in adoration, whether it be with his mouth, his fingers or the rest of him. He was obsessive— hungry for it, and most of all he was fucking insatiable.

He lets your ass hit the cool marble of the kitchen counter, tugging the shorts down your bare legs as he kisses you deeper. He throws the scraps of material as far away as he can, like the further he throws it the longer you’ll be like this in front of him. Naked from the waist down, spread and warm in front of him. Just for him.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He mumbles against you, then one of his hands pushes your chest back. You catch yourself with your forearms, giving you a perfect view of Frank dropping to his knees and burying himself between your legs.

The moan you let out at the indulgent lick of his mouth through your folds is drowned out by his own. He hooks his arms around your body, letting your legs lock him in, and you feel the soft brush of his hair against your inner thighs as he drops lower, then comes back up.

He leaves no part of you without the pleasure of his mouth, messily fucking you open with his tongue like he’d fade away without the taste of you committed to memory. His lips wrap around your clit, and you feel the satisfied grin he gets when you cry out and shudder. He grips your thighs harder to keep you right where he wants you, and your eyes roll back into your head just as he looks up at you.

It’s too much— the skilled movements of his tongue and mouth against you. He knows you too well, knows exactly how to get you off in either the quickest or longest way. If he wants to give it to you, he can do it in record time. If he wants to tease you, he’d know how to keep you in bed for hours. Days, if he wanted. But right now, he only wants one thing, and it’s the reason why he’s being so giving. So, so generous.

He wants you to stay.

You tug hard on his hair, feeling the vibrations of his groan rush through to your chest. Your heart beats faster and faster, the pounding in your ears blurring everything to a dull white. When you cum, he just gets faster, wanting to taste more of you, feel the way your legs shake and your fingers wrap through his short hair and your hips ride his face through the high.

His head moves with you, side to side, up and down, the sounds so pornographic you think your neighbours will most definitely call the cops, but you can’t think enough to care. You scream his name, your body giving out and your back pressing flat against the countertop. Frank starts moving again when your breathing slows, the heat of his mouth kissing up your hip bones, leaving the mixed wetness of you and him along your skin and up your stomach.

“Baby… stay with me. Stay with me.” He tugs you closer, your legs dangling off the side. He’s now got you face to face, nose pressing against yours. In your post-bliss haze, time slows a little. You let your eyes drift over his face, fingers slip like the raindrops down his cheeks, soft and gentle. “I want you. Stay.”

“I’ll stay. I’ll stay.” You nod quickly, and kiss him hard. Your nose squishes his, and it only presses you closer when he wraps both his arms around your waist. You shuffle further on to the edge of the counter, and then your hands slip down further. “Here. Now.”

You had done a lot with Frank, but you hadn’t broken this barrier. You hadn’t crossed this final line, and you couldn’t think of a better time than now. To prove to him that you were his, that you wanted this as badly as he did. You didn’t know how to say it, but you could show him.

You undo his belt, and he just rests his hands on your hips and watches. Your deft fingers struggle just for a moment with the button, the watchful eye he gives you making you nervous. Your hands shake, and when you finally get them undone, he covers yours with his own.

“You tell me what you want. You call the shots.” He notices your nerves, and puts the gun in your hand. Hands over control. You shove his boxers down just enough, mouth almost watering at the sight.

“I want you. I want…” Your hand trails over his length, hot and heavy in your hand, and he groans, head falling to your shoulder. “I want this.”

His hands fall away, resting on your hips again, thumbs tracing circles along the skin. You spread your legs wider, accommodating his massive frame, and you both gasp into each others mouths when the length of him presses against your wet heat.

He looks up at you, and leans closer, pressing his forehead against yours. He kisses you, an attempt to distract, and it works so quickly you almost forget the pain of him sliding into you. You cry out softly, but it’s lost in the taste of his mouth, and you can feel him holding himself back, too. His grip on your hips is tight, and he can’t concentrate on kissing you when he bottoms out, instead pulling away and cursing.

“Oh, fuck.” He growls, then dives back to your mouth. He doesn’t move just yet, letting you get used to the stretch, but it doesn’t take long until your wriggling on the counter top, wanting nothing more for him to move.

The pain dissipates, and when he rolls his hips back into you again, it disappears completely. Instead it’s replaced by a foreign bloom of pleasure, one that no one else has made you feel. Maybe it’s because none of them have held your heart in their hands like he does. This feels different, because it is different. It’s terrifying and consuming you form the inside out, but it feels too good to stop, and you get lost in it before you can make sense of it.

“More, Frank. God— I want more.” You moan into his ear, and he bites gently on your shoulder as he speeds the snap of his hips. He hits you deeper like this, your legs wrapped around his back so he can’t get too far. Whatever you ask, he gives it to you ten-fold, so when you say you want more, he fucking delivers.

He drives into you, making you see stars with the approach of another rush of pleasure. One of your hands claws at his back, raking lines against the skin you’ve dipped under his shirt to find. His muscles flex under your harsh touch, and he fucks you faster when he feels your nails scratch along him. You know he loves the marks as much as you do— he’s yours as much as you are his, and he doesn’t care if people know, either.

“You feel so f—uhh-fucking good, baby. Fuck, I can’t last.” His voice is more broken than you’ve ever heard it, a scratchy sort of low growl as he buries his head into the crook of your neck. You can’t find words beside the strangled moans he fucks from you, and you just lock your legs behind him in a silent plea.

Your arms dig into him as you cum again, and he only manages two more strong drives of his hips against yours before he’s cumming with you, the feeling of you tightening around him pushing him over the edge with you. He keeps his head buried against you as he cums, singing a broken chorus of your name.

He stays buried inside of you when he picks you up again, your head not fully clear as your arms wrap around his neck and keep him close. You don’t know where he’s carrying you, and you think you don’t care until your body hits the bed— and then you sigh in relief.

Any tension that he didn’t fuck out of you is gone when he keeps you on top of him, letting your head flop and body relax against him and the fuzzy comforter you’ve chosen for the coldest nights in New York. His fingers push the fabric of your shirt up, and then dance along the line of your spine. The light sensation gives you goosebumps, and brings you back to reality, one that is almost as blissful as the dreams you’ve had.

“You’ll stay.” He says after a while, and you manage a nod. Just one, but it’s enough, a hum of satisfaction vibrating through his chest. When he wraps his arms around you, you drift into sleep, knowing you’d do whatever he asked.

But for now, you’ll stay.