#stuffie: sugar cream

[baskets-buddies]

All of my bunny stuffed animals!!!

[suntoru]

✧˖°. PRINCESS TREATMENT ONLY!

summary: genshin men being huge simps and spoiling u every chance they get <3

feat. diluc ragnvindr, kaeya alberich, childe, kazuha kaedehara, scary mooch, xiao, thoma, ayatoe, al-haitham, kaveh

a/n: i swear i was working on the masterlist but the brainrot finally got to me hnghhhh

warnings: gn but feminine implications (ie. princess treatment, reader wears heels and makeup, passenger princess), simping for reader, maybe ooc? swearing, fluff, some are modern aus, maybe innuendos?

─ ✰ DILUC is the gentleman we all deserve in our lives. if it’s raining outside, he’ll make sure to protect you from the wetness! he makes sure you’re fully bundled up in his coat, and that when he’s walking you home, the umbrella is fully covering you. oh, his shoulder’s getting wet? that’s fine, a little bit of water never hurt anyone. but if it happens to you? all hell breaks loose. what if you get sick from the rain? are you feeling alright? do you need medicine? a doctor? and if you’re in a modern au, he’ll definitely let you be the passenger princess 🥰 you can take naps, eat snacks, and pick all the songs! you don’t ever have to worry about giving him directions, you can just do whatever you want. he even installs led lights in his car so you can take asthetic pictures <3 if you’re tired, don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine alone, take your beauty sleep :) he drives you anywhere you want, no questions asked! you want to go to his mansion? you’ll be there in ten. grocery store? sure. nail salon? he’ll even accompany you to get your nails done just so you won’t be alone, pays for everything too!

─ ✰ KAEYA is absolutely whipped for you. to most people, he’s the town flirt, and a drunkard, but to you, he’s the most caring and softest person you’ve ever met, even if it’s hidden under layers of hurt. if you go out drinking with him, and come back drunk, he’ll carry you bridal style back home. pressing your body closer to his, he makes sure to prop your head so your neck won’t get sore. and if you wear makeup, he won’t put in the low effort to wipe your face with a makeup wipe, he’ll do your whole skincare routine for you! first, he uses makeup remover to take everything off, then, gently, he massages the cleanser into your skin and washes it off. he applies your creams and serums, making sure to be as tender as possible, even if you whine that all you want to do is go to sleep. he soothes you, whispering that all he needs is ten more minutes to brush your teeth and get you changed so you’ll feel clean in the morning. and for the hangover in the morning? he makes you special soup and showers you himself so you don’t even have to lift a finger.

─ ✰ CHILDE loves spoiling you whenever he gets the chance to. other people might think it’s just another sugar baby dynamic, but in truth, it’s far from it. it’s a selfless love, not just based on materialistic items. but even then, he’s willing to sacrifice his time and money for you. you’re his baby and his top priority always, no matter what. are you hungry? well, get ready, because he just booked a reservation at the highest star restaurant in town! you’re having a bad day? no problem, he’ll send one of the lower ranking fatui members to do the dirty work and he’s coming home early! he’ll bring home a large bouquet of flowers and a cute stuffie to match. you need new clothes? he’s driving you to all your favourite stores on his card <3 his wallet is practically bottomless, so don’t be afraid to spend what you want! a couple thousand mora is nothing to him if he can see your frowning pout turn into the pretty smile he loves so much. he even carries all your bags for you without asking! he can’t have his darling getting tired after all :(( just as long as after you give him a smooch on the lips and an hour of cuddles, the only payment he’ll accept (´∀｀)♡

─ ✰ KAZUHA, even after years of being in a relationship, still finds ways to give you butterflies in your stomach. when you come back into your quiet home after a long night, too exhausted to take care of yourself, he leads you to a chair and sits you down. he ever so delicately unlaces your heels for you, taking his time doing so, but don’t worry! you won’t ever be bored. if the silence is too much, he’ll ask you how your day was, talk about his, and spill all the tea that happened on the crux. and if your feet are tender, he’ll massage them gently so they won’t be sore in the morning :(( he’s putting the utmost care and effort into whatever he’s doing for you, and that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. he still opens doors for you, dedicates hundreds, if not thousand of poems and haikus to you, and never fails to make you feel loved. he’d never forget an important date, even if you don’t mention it for months before! he always asks for your hand, and when you place it in his with a knowing smile, he gives you a fairytale-like kiss on the top, making sure to peck every little fingertip in the process.

─ ✰ SCARAMOUCHE never thought he’d bow down to anyone again in his lifetime. he’s trained every little bit of himself to be the most powerful, the strongest being he could so he’d never have to go through that humiliation. but yet here he is, tucking away his ego and pride, bending down on the ground for you. yes, he may grumble, telling you to hurry up, and that he doesn’t have all day, but the fact that he’s basically submitting to you speaks for itself. you taught him what love meant, healing, and promised that you’d never leave him, and for that, you have his eternal loyalty. as you climb on his back, he gently hooks your legs against his arms as he stabilizes both of you. the proximity of your face resting against his neck causes him to go up in flames, throwing his oversized hat on your head, telling you to hold on to it for him. but really he’s hoping the large structure obstructs his rosy cheeks. he does every little ‘embarrassing’ thing for you, from painting his nails barbie pink to being shrek for your matching halloween costumes. if his younger self were to look back at him, he simply wouldn’t believe it, but now, he wouldn’t even consider the possibility of even saying no to you.

─ ✰ XIAO never, ever, takes you adventuring with him, simply because he believes someone as precious as you shouldn’t risk getting hurt and scuffed up. so instead, he brings you little gifts that he sees while adventuring. a glaze lily, protective adepti charms, and almond tofu are all gifts that he’s brought to you before. he’s also much softer with you, never raising his voice and being cautious about his choice of words. if you ever get caught in a physical situation with him, automatically he moves to stand in front of you, one arm protectively circling your waist, pulling you closer to him. being xiao’s s/o, you also get special privileges. while he answers most who call his name, if you even utter his in a whisper, he’ll be there in a heartbeat, no matter if it’s an emergency or not. whether you called him to join your tea party, or if you are in the slightest bit of danger, he’ll be there. he also trusts you more than his logic, even if everyone else is against you. if you’re in a scuffle with other humans, he makes sure to hear both sides, but his heart already knows who’s right. whether there are 100 witnesses who all say you’re wrong, he’ll still believe you anyways.

─ ✰ THOMA is absolute malewife material, no questions asked. sometimes, if he’s not busy in the mornings, he’ll surprise you with breakfast in bed without a special occasion. he’ll peck your cheek and give you a soft ‘good morning’ as to not break the sleepy trance you’re in, carefully placing the tray onto the nearest nightstand. whenever he’s around, he does all your chores too, from washing the dishes, to dusting the house and sweeping the floors. you wom’t even have to lift a finger, he goes as far to make lunch too! since he’s not home by then, usually somewhere in the kamisato estate, he leaves handwritten sticky notes on each lunch box he gives you. he fills them with messages like, “the perfume you wore smells good today!” “your smile is blinding, my ray of sunshine” or “you’re gorgeous always, my lovely.” never once is a message repeated, he believes someone as special as you deserves to hear something unique each day. he even goes as far to make your food cute! he’s made panda shaped onigiri’s, cat-like dango’s… all because you asked him once, it’s become a tradition now.

─ ✰ AYATO never leaves you bored when he goes to one of his meetings. his maids set up a spa day, complete with a makeover and evening gown to go with it, but it’s just not the same without your husband :( thankfully, being the significant other of the head of the yashiro commission has its own perks. for instance, you can walk around like you own the place and join in on in his meetings, albeit later you might get punished by ayato for interrupting, but really, he doesn’t mind. seated on his lap, you play with his fingers and let out a quiet huff. why did you think this was a good idea again? what they’re talking about is so boring, you’re beginning to regret your desicion to join ayato, wishing to be soaking in the tub with a face mask again. thankfully, shortly after, he cuts the conference short, apologizing and telling them he has more pressing matters to attend to. you lead him straight home holding his hand, giddy that he’ll join another one of your salon days. he makes sure to pamper you, giving you a massage and washing your hair for you, praising you for being so patient, even if you were the reason the meeting ended early.

─ ✰ AL-HAITHAM, i headcanon, thinks he’s being subtle with putting up with your shenanigans, but he couldn’t be farther off. he might seem indifferent on the outside, but he cares much more than you might think. can’t sleep? just wake him up at 3am, he’ll wrap you in a blanket burrito and read to you until you fall asleep! just got your nails done? he’ll carry all of your books, what else would he need his giant man boobs muscles for? he revolves around you, as if you are the sun and he the earth. and god forbid if you’re ever mad at him, his whole life comes tumbling down. although if you can’t see it in his facial expression, all of his rationality goes flying out the window. he’s snappier than usual, getting annoyed at the littlest of inconveniences. even if you’re in the wrong, he’ll still apologize first, he just wants you to start talking to him again 😢 if you have conditions to making up, he follows them all to the tee. give you one kiss for every hour he’s made you upset? done. buy you the newest line of makeup or skincare? absolutely. cook dinner for the next two weeks? he already does that.

─ ✰ KAVEH is placed 1st on the list of simps. just pout your lips and whimper a “pretty please?”, he’s down bad. he lets you braid, curl, and play with his hair whenever you want, even if it was already styled in the beginning. he lets you steal all of his clothes, who cares if he’s worn the same thing five times in the past week? you look so adorable in his white shirt, he can’t complain. oh, and if you don’t like his style? he’ll let you pick out his clothes and style him yourself, he’ll stand there patiently for you like a mannequin <3 technically it’s not allowed, but he shows you all of his top secret projects and all the cool things he’s doing, you’re the only one allowed in his office! oh, what’s this? you want him to do your makeup? just give him a week, he’ll perfect cat eyeliner, lip liner and blending eyeshadow colors for you! after you’re done, he lets you do his makeup too, praising you for your talent. even if the blush is patchy, foundation cakey and lip gloss smudged, he still thanks you endlessly with unlimited cuddles and a new handbag matching his briefcase!

©hawkssimpsblog 2023.

[trashmouth-richie]

Eddie x Fem! Reader

master list

w/c: 7k

A/N: this chapter is a little bit shorter than the last few but I hope you enjoy it regardless! huge s/o to @blueywrites + @jo-harrington for beta reading and helping me with parts ♥️

tw: 18+ no minors, depression, acts of depression, drinking excessively etc

Granules of brown sugar melt against heaping creamed rolled oats, nestled into the crisp white second hand vitrelle made Corelle brand bowls. The pattern of dainty brown flowers skim around the outer surface, one that Eddie is now rubbing softly with the pad of his thumb. 

He had never noticed them before this very moment. The guitar string callouses skid along the cool surface of the bowl. The familiar feel reminded him of the soft skin on your back as he held you while you slept, strumming along your body to the tired tunes of your breathing.

A song he’d listen to forever if he could. 

Eddie found himself noticing many new things he hadn't noticed before in the early daylight hours of the morning. He didn’t want to stir you, didn’t want to disrupt the beautiful sleepy angel next to him. Wrapping you tighter against him, pressing light kisses to your hairline, he soaked up the warmth of your skin against him. Drinking in your smooth breathing and matching it to his own. 

Fluttering heart beating wildly in his own chest, he can’t believe you are here with him. Last night felt too good to be true. All these months of lonely pining, unsure if you felt the same, only for it to be true that you wanted him as much as he had wanted you.

He was elated, heart overflowing and spewing candy hearts from his eyes and mouth at the weight of your body tucked into him, fitting like a glove against the bend in his arm. 

He was head over heels for you. 

A wave of assurance washed over him when he woke this morning and found you curled in on yourself, the cotton sheets wrapped tight up under your chin, slack lips open and your eyelashes laid sweetly against your cheeks. A breath of relief leaves his muscles— you’re still here. 

The rise and fall of your naked form when he pulled ypu into his side had him breathless upon first opening his eyes this morning. The sunlight basking through peaks in his bedroom curtains and providing enough light for the dust mites to dance their daylight waltz amongst the stuffy air and crowded surfaces in Eddie’s room. 

Cotton sheets dipped into your curves. The smooth skin of your cheek pressed into his own chest. The steady whirring noise of your breathing in and out of your nose with your lips closed delicately.  

Beautiful. Radiant. A thousand other adjectives he could use to describe you but there was only one he wanted to call you: his. 

The toaster erupts with a metallic clunk, bringing him back from his day dreaming and focusing again at the task at hand. 

Grabbing a knife from the silverware drawer, he smears cold butter against the warm toast, the knife scraping gently as the warm crusted pockets flood with butter and sweet grape jelly.

He finds himself daydreaming again. He pictures the corner of your lips coated in jelly, he’d reach forward and brush his finger against it, maybe his lips would kiss the crumbs away. You’d giggle at his stupidity and he’d melt like the butter into this toast at your warm smile. 

You were perfect. Everything he had wanted and more. And years of being friends, then enemies, then roommates and now lovers. He was giddy, stomach filled with snowflake flurries resembling a winter storm. 

He balanced the bowls of oatmeal in large hands, the toast cut in diagonals and stuffed like rabbit ears into the cooked oats. A pep in his step, he practically floated to his room, back to you, snug in his sheets, his pillows. He’s carried by the wings of the butterflies in his stomach. 

A tickle on your cheek has your eyelids fluttering slow, the cool feel of unfamiliar sheets twisted by your chin have you jumping in your skin, but the warm velvet voice in your ear whispering good morning greetings and a peck against your ear tames your heart and softens the goosebumps on your skin. 

The same calloused palms that held you in a protective manner last night now gently stroke the underside of your chin in a lazy pattern. Up the rounds of your cheeks, and circling the plump of your lips. Eddie’s hands are unusually warm against your skin, the heat from the bowls hot on his palms.

The mattress bends beneath his weight as he sits with one leg on the bed and leans on a hip over you. The bourbon colored ends of his curls sweep feather-like against your bare chest, like the white tufty pappus of a dandelion head.

You titter softly when his lips slide down your neck and blow a softened raspberry against your skin. 

“Good morning, baby,” he sighs beneath your ear. The pearls of his teeth graze your neck because he can’t stop smiling. The silk of your hands wrap around his arms, fingers gliding over the carve of his muscles. And your eyes finally flutter open. 

A halo of sunlight breaches his frizzy curls and pull every bit of amber from them, his smile cozy and familiar the warmth seeping through you as his blackened honey eyes drink you in.  

His eyes trail your sleepy features, caressing your skin with each slow drag across your face. Taking in every inch of you he can. 

“Sleep okay?” he purrs gently, planting a rose petal kiss on your lips. 

Last night was perfect, everything you had hoped for and more. 

You didn’t know sex could be so intimate, so passionate.  Feeling how much he cared about you with every kiss, every touch of his molten fingers on your skin. He gave you the love and adoration you had yearned for. And it felt good. 

So, so good. 

Something that delicious should be enjoyed again and again. An indulgence, a finger swiping into the edge of a frosted cake for temptation deemed too strong. But unlike the taste of frosting melting away on your tongue, craving more and wanting another taste, you couldn’t. 

Peering into his eyes, you can see how much he loved you. But the feeling sat sour on your tongue, and burned your belly in a lonely way.

But why? 

You could push through this right?

Didn’t you want this?

Want him?

Heart hammering for Eddie, all green flags and sticky love, kicking feet and giddy heated cheeks, but your brain was screaming another sound, ringing bells of unworthiness loud in your ears. 

You don’t deserve him. 

His love won’t last. 

A quick smile that doesn’t reach your eyes implants on your lips. Insecurity is evident among them when the twinkle of love is replaced by dark brooding agony. And if Eddie sees it he is blinded to it. So wrapped up in bubbly love for you he thought you hung the stars. 

The way his brown eyes are gazing at you hurts your heart. Before hot tears can fall down your cheeks you blink rapidly. Wells of salt stinging in your eyes as you swallow them down. 

Answering his question in a hushed almost whisper, you push yourself up on his mattress, clutching the sheet around your chest, suddenly aware of how naked you are. Bare beneath the sheets a once welcomed coziness now feels like shards of glass embedded into your skin. 

Your knees tuck up beneath your chest, in a small attempt to shield yourself more from the man you wanted to love but couldn’t. 

Eddie is all adoring dimples and pinked cheeks. His voice is laced with flowing sweet words of pleasantries. He places a pillow behind your back, so you can be comfy,. 

The act cracking your heart deeper waiting to be split like the thin shell on a peanut m&m. 

“I didn’t ask, but do you like oatmeal?” 

You’ve never known a single smile burrowing into your soul deeper than his does. But it aches and burns. Nose tingling bringing up another wave of tears, you simply nod, you wipe your eyes hastily with the back of your hand as Eddie turns and grabs the bowls. Oblivious to your turmoil. 

He brings the warm bowl of oatmeal to the bed and places it in your hands. Jelly having slid down the toast and snuggling with the brown sugar and oatmeal. Joining you on the bed Eddie sits beside you, his long legs stretched out in front of him as you sit shoulder to shoulder.   

You don’t deserve him. 

His love won’t last. 

Lead filled arms hold the metal spoon to your lips, a warmth in your mouth that has no taste. For you are not hungry. The beast inside spreading its ferocious wings and sucking any amount of joy from you. 

But he said he loved me. 

He doesn’t. Don’t fool yourself. 

Staring ahead you are trapped in your mind. A hostage to your demons. The sunshine of happiness is replaced with heavy thunderstorm clouds of acidic rain, eating away your insides like maggots on a carcass. 

Eddie is talking between mouthfuls of his breakfast but you don’t hear him. The words unable to make sense against your ears as you stir your spoon around and around the bowl. A hypnotizing motion. 

Unaware of the state you are in, Eddie is floating high on cloud nine. A pinky cheeked cherub shooting arrows of lust below him. He’s giddy and cheerful, a light of beckoning hope next to your brooding steel trapped mind. 

He’s too good for you. 

The voices shout louder in your ears and you fight tears away. 

Just another notch on his belt, silly Tooty. 

Run, before he does. 

“Sweetheart?” your breathing is erratic and complacent. Sweat is trickling down your hairline. Wet beads in the space behind your ears and forming on your upper lip.

Run. 

Choking down the bile of panic cradled in your throat, you croak a smile. “Sorry, what?” 

-

The rest of breakfast is void of noise besides the ominous clinking of spoons against bowls and the gulping slide of oatmeal down Eddie’s throat. Chewing your toast to humor him you still taste nothing, barely registering your teeth are grinding together against themselves until Eddie asks if you’re alright. 

Fine, you lie, easy on your tongue, the forced smile is harder, painful. Settling an unease in your bones that creaks and groans like a worn porch door batting against the frame in a windstorm. 

Pulling hard to untuck the sheet from the one corner of Eddie’s bed that didn’t manage to come undone during the passion of last night, you wrap it around you fully, and scoot down the length of his mattress. The walk of shame gown held tight in your grip. Doubling as a shield of comfort around you, a flannel sheet of armor. 

Not announcing where you are going in fear of breaking, you scamper from the room, quick feet on the carpet and shivering in the cool air on your shoulders. Eddie’s hot desperate eyes burrowing into your back as you lock the bathroom door. 

He’s everywhere in this house, and your mind is suffocating. Lungs punched of any oxygen as you struggle to stand using the knob as a crutch. 

What makes you think you’re deserving of his kindness?

The daunting demonic voice laughs mercilessly in your head, bouncing off the pinked brain matter and echoing lol against the hollow marble of your skull, scribbling along it in permanent marker. 

Unworthy 

Undeserving

Hot tears stream down your cheeks and you shed the cloak of flannel armor, reaching for the silver knob of the shower and turning it to the hottest temperature the small water heater will allow. 

The stream of the scalding water sears your back like steak in a skillet, you welcome the burn with open arms. 

Thinking of Eddie’s doting and how sweet he was to you made your stomach splinter. All he was doing was exactly what you had hoped for, wished for, stayed up long nights aching for. 

But it wasn’t simple. 

You were terrified. Scared shitless of his love for you. But you knew Eddie and you knew he loved big, and cared in ways that most people couldn't fathom. 

Hot water rolls down the front of your shoulders and flows over your softened nipples, mixed with salty tears. 

The tears only stop when there’s a soft knuckled bang on the door. 

His endearing voice is small against the closed door, “hey babe?” 

You don’t answer. Unable to free your mind from the double hell of feeling inadequate and petrifying anxiety of being loved by someone you can’t love back. 

But you do love him. 

You always have in one way or another.. even when you shouldn’t have. You did. 

But the overwhelming feeling of his affection is too much, you don’t know how to feel, or act. Not as if Chad ever made you feel loved. Somehow the feeling of being loved is almost the same crushing feeling of being choked out. 

Because you’re not good enough. 

You don’t deserve him. 

The bathroom door opens and Eddie’s calm voice breaks through the void. Makes its way through the silent sobs that are causing your body to shake violently. 

His shadow is blurred against the shower curtain. Coy hands peel the cream plastic and blue fabric away slightly, opening the threshold to the shower and the steam rolling out, thick in his vision. 

“Tooty?” 

Back to first names. 

Back to the basics. 

Eddie wasn’t an idiot. He knew something was wrong. And he had spent the last ten minutes walking back and forth along the carpet, wracking his brain. Pulling his hair in frustration when tears stung his eyes and collected like puddles in his lashes.  

Trying to figure out the solution to a problem he didn’t have the equation for. 

No one did. 

This was a fight within yourself, solving for x when Eddie barely passed basic algebra. Nobody could fix this.

Broken goods, sold at a discount and marked down. 

Trash. 

When you don’t answer he says your name a smidge louder. Reaching his fingers out to touch your shoulder and almost breaking on the spot when you coil away from him. 

His touch once so protective and undeniably reassuring in your blood now threatens to make you react with bared teeth and steel eyes. 

But you refrain, pushing yourself further away from him. Deeper into your sorrows of a life of despair, a valley of dread. 

Relentless, Eddie won’t give up easy. His voice is meek and breaking with each cold shoulder of avoidance you offer. 

You’re nothing. 

“Baby,” he pleads, a tear running down his cheek, collecting in the column of his throat. “Talk to me.” 

His cheeks return to normal color, his eyes don’t dance with twinkles, the corners of his mouth turn flat. He's beside himself. 

The voices deepens now, roaring loudly like a river. A familiar tone. One that has terrified you for almost a decade, Chad. 

You think someone could love you like me? Better than me? 

Take it, fucking whore. 

Yeah, cry for me. 

“No.” 

Eddie’s brows turn inward. Concern painting his face. “Tooty?” 

Who would want you? 

You’re nothing. 

A hand on your shoulder makes your spine twinge with icy cold resentment causing you to flinch unexpectedly, shivering away from him. A wounded animal, protecting yourself. 

“I said, no!” 

When you turn to face him you are met with wet eyes, and the saddest expression you’d ever had the displeasure of seeing. 

One that would bury itself in your mind and haunt you at night. More horrifying than a scary movie because it was real, right before your eyes. 

Eddie doesn’t give you time to think before he twists his mouth into a question, “what’s going on? What did I do?” 

This is not a conversation you want to have. You can’t. 

Plain and simple. 

“Leave me alone,” you beg, salt in the skinned wound. You turn the water off and shove past him, your warm wet skin sliding against his dry bare chest. 

Unlovable 

Undeserving Tooty. 

The terry fibers of your robe cocoon you in a hug. And you’re reminded of the memories this fabric holds. The first night Eddie had moved in, and him wearing it with pride. 

The night he defended you against the twins, when you were piss drink and he wrapped you up tightly to cover you up. 

He was a good man. 

And you were a bitch. 

An unlovable shrewd, forcing someone to open up and then cutting them off because you couldn’t handle the thought of someone loving you when you couldn’t love yourself. 

You deserved what Chad did to you. 

Eddie is talking a million miles an hour trying to explain himself as you leave him in the bathroom. His throat aches from swallowing back tears and his heart is breaking. 

Turning in a swift jerk of your head you face him when he begs you to look at him. 

“Please, goddamnit please just talk to me. Help me understand what I did wrong!” 

“There’s nothing to understand Eddie! We fucked! So what? No big deal.” It was the biggest lie you’d told yourself. It was a big deal. It meant everything to you, but you couldn’t do this. 

He’s stunned, mouth hung open and his pink bottom lip starts to quiver. The same lips that kissed you so delicately and made you cum so hard it was like the Fourth of July behind your eyelids. 

Not having any of it, his sadness turns to anger on the drop of a dime, his shaky lip flipped to a snarl, “Don’t you dare do this, don’t you dare turn this around as just some one night stand bullshit.” His eyes search your face for any tell on a sick joke. But he knows you better than that.  

He can’t contain the fueling rage inside of him and he almost shouts in your face. “I know what it meant to you!”

“Really?” you voice in a shaky tone, crossing your arms across your chest in a manner that suggests you couldn’t give a single fuck about his feelings, but barely below the surface you were screaming for help. “If you got all the answers then enlighten me.” 

His voice is softer, gentler. He timidly reaches out to hold your clothed shoulders, the tips of his fingertips grip them softly, thumbs rubbing small circles. Hoping his touch could bring you back to him, bring back the angel from his dreams and coax you out from this hellish nightmare he had fallen into. 

 “Don’t act like this baby, please.” 

Your head hangs in defeat and you’re ready to give up. A sigh escapes you and he lifts your chin with a ringed finger. He licks his lips and he says the three words you couldn’t hear. 

The three small words that confirmed the anxiety in your chest and made your heart crumble. And it kills you. 

It kills you to hear the words come from the man you’ve been yearning for.

It kills you to know you won’t ever be able to say them back to him. Even though you’re dying to.

And it kills you to know you don’t deserve to hear those words from him. 

His fingers feel like talons against your shoulders and you're caught in his grasp. A hawk swooping to catch a field mouse. You can practically feel the blood pouring from your skin by his nails through the robe. The sharpness squeezing your lungs and attacking your mind. 

And like a bullet from a gun, you fire back. With hateful words and a dead tone, fire lit behind your pupils and your caged self inside of them begging to be let out. Begging to be let free and loved by Eddie. Slapping his hands away from you, you pull away from him, your back hitting the wall with a thud, the same wall you leaned on last night when he kissed you for the first time. 

The word is final. And so full of venom it feels like poison on your lips. 

“Don’t.” 

Wounded like an animal he defends himself. His slapped hands are red and stinging as he hangs them limply at his side. He shakes his head and his lips glow with how hard he’s pressing them together. 

“Tell me I don’t mean anything to you,” he yells, hurt and unable to contain his building desperate pleas to win you back, “Go ahead! Use your words Tooty. Tell me last night meant nothing to you.”  

He’s a fiend for your poisoned drug and you are his dealer, giving him what he wants, directly to his vein of choice. The veil of hatred falling in your vision and coating your stone still features. A single tear welled into your eyes. Falling the exact time you tell him words you knew weren’t at all true. 

“It meant nothing to me.” 

He chuckles in a hurt tone trying desperately to hide his own tears, a sick smirk of dismay is displayed on his quivering lips. And he’s fighting like hell to stay standing on two feet. 

“So now what? Huh?” His voice breaks and he clears his throat, hands on his hips and looking towards the popcorn ceiling, desperately blinking tears back, and once they’re hiding again he nods his head forward, one last attempt to have you break with him. To admit you were lying to yourself. 

Crossing his arms he’s trying not to shake with fury and grief. Through gritted teeth he misters up enough courage to ask you something he doesn’t wanna hear the answer to.

“Tell me what you want since you’re so big and brave. Don’t be a coward now sweetheart, tell me what you want.” 

You almost vomit on the spot. But choke it down long enough to spill the last lie from your pretty lips.

The nail in the coffin. The big finale. 

“I want… you to leave.” 

—

JANUARY 

It took three hours and all the boys from Corroded Coffin to help Eddie move his things out. He took a few days off from work to get his affairs in order. Filling out the proper paperwork to change his address back to the light blue trailer in Forest Hills for the time being. 

You weren’t home when it happened. He had made sure of it. 

When you closed your eyes at night you could still hear slam of metal connecting to metal when he slammed his van door and the crunch of ice and snow beneath his van tires as he sped away. 

You didn’t cry anymore when Metallica played on the radio. And nobody but you knew that every glass you had owned had been shattered against the front door when you came home to his empty room. 

A reality that had your eyes swollen for days. 

It took you two weeks to see the envelope on the table. A scrawl of shitty handwriting with your name on it. 

Tucked inside the pristine white envelope was more than twenty $100 bills, fresh from the bank. And a small note: 

“If you need more let me know, 

take care of yourself - Eddie 

That night you wept. Clutching onto the handmade shirt Eddie had given you, the night before the concert. The only thing remnant of him living in the house. Not counting the newer jar of pickles in the fridge, like the last— the lid was missing. 

Hot tears slid out of your eyes faster than a tub draining. A call to Robin is broken with blubbering hysterics and honking noises of your nose being blown into a wadded Kleenex, and in ten minutes time—she manages to drop everything to come and look after you. 

Countless hours slip by of her rubbing your back and even crying along with you, she swore Eddie and you were meant to be. Her words were blankets of comfort on you as she tried her best not to bring him up. 

She had promised both Steve and Eddie to not tell you where he was staying, for your own good. 

And like the kind hearted friend she was, Robin stayed for a few days. Taking off work and cooking meals for you even though you refused to eat. 

On the third day of not eating and refusing to leave your bed, she put a call in to Steve. He was hands on his hips disappointed in you. Lecturing you about how your actions hurt people and how you couldn’t be a brat forever. He threatened to dial the Wheeler’s to have Karen step in. 

But you wouldn’t budge. 

When Nancy had shown up on a Wednesday morning, she immediately went to work. Making a schedule for you to follow, and taking absolutely no bullshit when you told her you were a grown woman and could deal with things on your own. 

When she blacked out Eddie’s name from the calendar, silent tears fell down your cheeks. 

Seeing his name brought you both solace and pain. A reminder that you had done this yourself. That he wasn’t coming back. And it was because of you.

You moved with the motions of each day.

Shower 

Brushing your teeth 

Eating breakfast 

Getting ready for work 

Going to work 

Eating lunch 

Working

Driving home 

Eating supper 

Brush teeth 

Bedtime 

You sat in silence when you weren’t at work. Finding little to no enjoyment in anything anymore. Avoiding everyone’s calls. Staring at the 4 walls in your bedroom like a prison cell. Eddie’s stupid jar of pickles tucked snuggly between your crossed legs, your supper for weeks now. 

The only thing on your mind was him. He stuck with you in everything you did. He was everywhere. You even started drinking orange juice from the jug just like he did.

His laugh. The small giggly one he’d had since boyhood and the deep belly laugh he’d generate when you would roll your eyes at him, all of his teeth showing. 

His smile seemed to stretch across the Milky Way. Wide and pearly, ear to ear. His cheeks prickled with deep dimples. Somehow getting cuter with age. 

The darkest eyes full of mischief and wonderment. You could get lost in the Wonka chocolate river pooling in his eyes. Changing with his emotions like a mood ring, they gave him away.  

—

Corroded Coffin hadn’t played a gig since A Merry Corroded Christmas. Hard to play a show when the lead singer couldn’t pull it together during practices or remember to show up to them. 

Steve had stayed up with Eddie the first few nights, talking him off the edge of a violent end he didn’t see a way out of. 

He wouldn’t allow himself to forget that night. The passion was cosmic. And he knew you felt it too. Whether or not you would admit you were lying to yourself didn’t interest him. 

He was used to rejection. 

Used to feeling like he was nothing. 

What was breaking him was the ghost of you in his arms. Your sleeping body haunted his dreams, made the demons escape from hell and flood his vision. 

When he woke and you weren’t there the pain surfaced tenfold. And no amount of whiskey or Rick’s finest trees would fix it. 

The cycle never ending

He cared about you more than he cared about himself. 

The day you asked him to leave was a blur. He woke up at Gareth’s apartment a day later, no recollection of how he had gotten there. 

Your words etched into his skin like a tattoo. 

I want you to leave.

FEBRUARY

Still Loving You by Scorpions is playing on repeat between Nothing Else Matters by Metallica again in the guest house behind the lavish empty pool of Steve Harrington’s new home on Cornwalis St. 

Thirty some odd days had passed and Eddie Munson was nowhere near the man he used to be. 

Where his skin was once smooth shaven was now replaced by a prickly sparse beard. His once sparkling chocolate eyes were now dull and almost ashen. Dark circles rim his eyes from lack of sleep and poor nutrition, a diet of Marlboros, whiskey and pretzels giving him enough energy to work and come back to the same space he had called home for a few months. 

Throwing himself into working long hours at Boom’s he slept very little at night. When he did close his eyes he’d be jarred awake by a nightmare, one he hasn’t had since he was a kid. And he’d lay awake for hours replaying the same day over and over again in his mind. 

Each time ending the same way.

Shreds of notebook papers cluttered the floor, each littered with blue and black ink, all different but entirely the same subject: you.

Poems, songs, haikus and even a poorly written sonnet he had attempted while drunk at 2 AM sitting in a lounge chair he had drug out from the pool shed to sit along the edge of the frozen pool cover. 

His hair hadn’t been brushed in weeks. Leighanne offered to help comb out the tangles and mats but the burden was too much for him to handle. He denied her kindness, brushing it off with mumbled ‘m fine ’s and don’t worry ‘bout me ’s.

But in reality the thought of another woman’s hands in his hair only made the tears fall harder. 

When Eddie first moved in, Steve and Robin were still in the apartment, and Eddie’s things were moved to a storage unit across town. 

When the lease was up at the end of January, Robin moved into Vicky’s apartment over Surfer Boy Pizza and Steve purchased a house, along with an expensive diamond ring he would be anticipating on giving to an eager Leighanne, holding off until her birthday for the right time to pop the question. 

The Harrington/Buckley apartment was then subleased to Eddie. A sublease that didn’t last more than a week before he was booted out by the landlord for destruction of property when he accidentally started a fire in the kitchen. 

He was only trying to replicate your lasagna. 

Steve graciously invited Eddie to move in. and Eddie kept to himself for the most part. And on nights when sad music was blaring from the small guest house, Steve knew better than to ask if his friend wanted to play cards or kick back with a few beers. 

-T-

January came and went and close to the end of February  Josie told you she was cutting everyone’s hours, the salon would no longer be open on the weekends. The envelope Eddie had left for you was thrown into your night stand and you refused to use any of it. 

No one in town was hiring for another hairdresser so you opted to driving fifteen miles out of town to find another job. 

The job you had gotten was bartending at a rundown shithole bar worse than the Hideout. But the tips were good and your boss was sweet. A pot belly old farmer who only played country classics and served warm beer and peanuts, the shells making curved mountains on the filthy splintered wood floor.

It was refreshing to get out of Hawkins, but most importantly, it was the best chance you had at not running into someone who looked like him. 

Your body started to ache at all times, tender in places that never hurt before. Exhaustion thick on your features 

Months had passed and you hadn’t seen your friends. Nancy would call every now and then and check in. Jonathan and her were seeing a couples therapist for intimacy issues. She said Mike was hinting at proposing soon to El. 

Eddie’s shadow lingered on your skin and you swore you could feel his breath in your ear. Whispering how he loved you.

Some days were better than others, but most days you would get so worked up you would vomit from the pain. Betrayal splayed in your guts. Your mind was working against you.

His teary eyes and hurt expression were all you saw when you closed your eyes. And every night you cried yourself to sleep, cocooned into a pile of too many blankets, dreaming that Eddie was holding you tight against his chest, never leaving…never letting you go. 

MARCH

Eddie worked more than twelve hours a day, acting as two full time mechanics with how hard he was throwing himself into projects. Boom, although grateful for Eddie’s help and go-getter attitude, worried about him. Especially when he noticed the other two knot head mechanics he couldn’t afford to fire, helping themselves into his office flipping through personnel files. 

“Sean told me he makes more money than me! I was just checking to see how much more you think he’s worth! 

Aaron chuckled when Boom tossed him out of the office by his collar. 

A secret motive snug on his Copenhagen smile. The Information he was seeking: found and a reward would be granted for his loyalty to a long time friend.

…

“… alright fine, I guess pineapple is pretty good on pizza.”

“Told ya, Harrington, ” licking his lips, Eddie reached into the cardboard box and grabs another slice, the melting cheese stretching for what seemed like miles,  “I know good pizza.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, taking it easy on his friend who finally is looking like his normal self again after two months of becoming almost unrecognizable. 

The sad music didn’t play anymore. And his fingers didn’t bleed from writing songs about you. 

He was accepting what happened. Still sad, a little depressed but moving forward with his life. 

The date was approaching, Steve knew it and so did Eddie, neither wanted to talk about what he was going to do yet but Steve held his tongue for far too long. 

“so.. that Metallica concert is coming up… you still g—”

Before Steve could finish muttering, Eddie was already finishing his sentence, chewing along with his explanation. His fingers twirl the rings on his other hand. A nervous fit settling in his stomach.

“—already sold ‘em. Gonna drop the money I got for them in her mailbox tonight.” 

Steve shifts uncomfortably in his chair, threading fingers through his coiffed hair. “So that’s it huh?” 

“So what’s it?” Eddie questioned, nonchalantly standing suddenly from the table with a scratch of the chair's legs  against the tiled floor. Throwing his paper plate and napkin away, he stops at the trash can. Doubling back he almost cracks under the scrutiny of Steve’s eyes. 

“Steve, she doesn’t wanna be with me, we’ve been over this. I fucked up, came on too strong.” 

“I’m sorry man,” Steve apologizes, a drag of his large hands down his face. “I really thought she felt the same way—,” he huffs out a breath, “fuck, we all did!”

A shake of Eddie’s curls silences Steve’s words, the whirring noise in his ears, “I’m fine man, really. I’m gonna keep doing what we said we would all those years ago.” 

Walking towards the front door and stomping louder than he should have, Eddie thrusts his arms into his leather jacket, the silk inside cozy along his faded cotton shirt. 

His keys are hanging on the little hook by the door, Steve’s decorator thinking of every detail, he lets the brass teeth dig into his palm. 

“Even if she hates me Steve,” one hand on the silver doorknob, rings clicking against it in his tight grip, he turns his head and looks into pitiful moss colored eyes, as he delivers the only truth he’s ever known, “I still love her.”

Slamming home the driver’s door to the van and turning his key into the ignition, Skid Row’s I Remember You plays gently through the speakers. Eddie hums along and pats his thumbs against the steering wheel. 

It was true he was doing better.

His hair was combed through after using copious amounts of the cheapest conditioner Melvald’s had to offer. And he didn’t need the whiskey anymore to make it through the day. 

He yearned to see your face. 

Even if it was a glare his way or a raised eyebrow at something stupid he had to say, he’d do just about anything to see it. 

Would you be smiling? 

Were you happy without him? 

He hoped you were doing well, and maybe would want to be friends again. 

Turning onto Cherry Lane is pure nostalgia. It had only been a few months but everything looked the same. He felt different and maybe expected everything else to change along with him. 

And there it was. Your house. 

The house he had lived in, learned life skills he should have learned years ago, and most importantly shared the deepest love he’d ever felt with someone in his life.  

The windows were dark, except for a small light in the kitchen, a candle he assumed. The smell of vanilla warmed his nose as he thought of the familiar scent you had kept burning.

The driveway held your car and another he didn’t recognize. By first glance he thought maybe it could be Nancy. But she had just brought her old station wagon into Boom’s last week for a tire rotation. 

The license plates on the fancy BMW were not from Hawkins, housing the wrong number for the county on the Indiana plates. 

His ears heated with jealousy. Throat closing tight trying to hide a choked sob. 

How could you have moved on from him so quickly? The thought of you hooking up with someone while he was practically a dead man walking made him weak in the knees.

A punch to the gut. He had never felt so low in all of his life.

He couldn’t help himself when he jumped out of the van. Foregoing slamming the door. Stomping on cold concrete with shaky legs all the way to the front door. He fumed as he blinked back tears. 

He was prepared to make an ass out of himself. He’d announce himself the same way he had when he opened the door the day he has moved in all those months ago. 

A loud boisterous, HONEY, I’M HOME 

With knuckles raised and his heart hammering in his chest like a bee trapped in a tin can, he was ready to knock. 

Ready to see your shocked face with some faceless guy probably with a better job and stupid suits when Eddie’s wild hair and goofy grin was on the other side of the door. 

But he is stopped short when a muffled shrill scream vibrates off the walls and finds his ears.

see you in volume 12

🐑 (sacrificial for readmore)

[xxsugarbonesxx]

Librarian Miguel x Flower Shop Owner

tags: tooth rotting amounts of fluff and some suggestive bits. No one is spider man in this AU, mainly just character set up stuff :3 and no gender is specified for reader any1 can read it

hopefully this will be me getting back into writing since i took a break from it lol (this was done in 30-40 minutes at 2am so sorry if it isnt too high quality) ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

In the little rural town of Nueva, there was a library, it was owned and operated by the single hottest man in town, and probably the whole state, Miguel O’Hara. 

Miguel O’Hara was a simple man really, he ironed his clothes, did sudoku on the train and ate a bagel with light cream cheese, an assortment of raspberries, blackberries and blueberries every morning every day for breakfast. 

He took his coffee dark with the littlest splash of cream and one sugar cube. Two sugar cubes would be just reckless. Coffee could be substituted with Camellia flower tea when he was out of coffee, peppermint for when he had a migraine.

All the women in town would sing his praises to another. Little was known about him besides that after the death of his daughter he moved to Nueva and opened his library. In front of his library was a small community garden and a bench dedicated to his dear daughter by the double doors. 

No one brought it up, no one asked, and he liked it that way. He liked the simplicity of Nueva. The air was cleaner, the people there warmer and the ringing in his ears seemingly disappeared when he moved there. 

He liked to keep his library neat and tidy, he had plenty of rules set in place to follow…children's books in the front and adult books in the back. The spicer content was shelved by the cook books so no kids found them. You are to only use the various lamps in the library, never the big light. It totally ruined the cozy atmosphere he had set up. 

Jazz, Frank Sinatra, and Selena Quintanilla was the only music allowed to be played, he didn’t like any other types of music. Coffee was free as long as you returned your mug to the table his coffee maker was on once you were done. No talking louder than a whisper, and only pet the library cat if you had all your shots. That was mostly a joke, but Miguel didn’t want people who weren’t up to date on their immunizations touching his cat.

It was almost closing time, and there were only a few people left. The familiar cast of characters Miguel had come to know now wandering the maze of shelves. Ben Riley was using one of the community monitors. Sending emails back and forth to his girlfriend in Canada. Only god knew if she was real or not.

When Miguel asked why Ben just bought his own laptop or computer to converse with his girlfriend, Ben explained he didn’t want to go through the trouble of setting up a laptop when he could just walk to the library to use one for free.

Miguel couldn’t help but hold back the fattest eye roll known to man when he heard that.

Peter Parker was looking for cookbooks for the dinner he was gonna make to win his ex wife back. Stressing over the perfect dish to make as young Mayday Parker debated whether she wanted to check out GoodNight Moon or Skippyjon Jones for her bedtime story tonight.

Then there was Pavitr Prabhakar and Gayatri Singh. Debatably his most adorable regulars. Miguel would watch the two teenagers stumble through their awkward study dates, he couldn't help but feel the littlest bit proud of Pav when he finally worked up the courage and kissed her. 

But his favorite, hands down, was you. You owned the little flower shop across the street from his library next to the bakery. On the opening, you had brought him a bunch of sunflowers tied with a pearl white ribbon as a gift. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he was actually allergic to sunflowers and graciously took the generous gift with a stuffy nose and kind smile.

You would come waltzing in, batting your eyelashes like you were auditioning for a mascara commercial. At first he had no interest in romance, but you were just so…kind, caring, loving, compassionate. You were so slow and soft spoken, giving him the space he needed while he grieved and was there afterwards to hug him and dry his tears. 

At the beginning, you’d only stop by and help him in the library or check out a novel or two, but as you became a frequent visitor, you stopped coming just to help him…and started coming just to see him.

He remembered how one day, you had arrived at the library as usual. A perplexed look on your darling face with your hands behind your back. You had spent all of the night before carefully crafting a special bouquet of lilies and tulips. Making sure there wasn't anything in it he was allergic to.

After dancing around the subject, you had slowly confessed her feelings to him. 

The next hour was spent in the back room of the library. Feverishly groping another and kissing frantically, your glasses kept sliding against each other’s as you both ran to rip each other's clothes off another's bodies.

Miguel was still that simple man he was all those years ago when he moved to the sleepy town of Nueva. The idea of building a real relationship with someone scared him from how many times he'd been hurt in the past and the fresh wounds from the death of his child.

But now he has you. He has someone to come home to besides the empty walls of his little cottage home. He has a significant other to fill that void and to lift him up, someone to be his lock screen picture.

Someone to tell all the things he’s learned from the regulars at the library. He told you about Ben getting catfished, Peter winning MJ over with homemade ratatouille and a promise, about Pav and Gayatri’s kiss while the both of you snuggled up on the couch over a bottle of strawberry wine.

You'd both started the relationship a little rocky, not knowing whether this was right with the things Miguel was working through then. But it soon proved to be the best decision either of you could have made. 

He had your wedding picture next to Gabriela's school picture day portrait on his desk. 

His favorite parts of his day were when you’d walk from your shop to the library on your lunch break to eat together, and in the evenings when he'd read the book you were currently reading out loud to you, before going to sleep together. 

He was still that simple man, but now he’d share his bagels with you. He’d offer to iron your clothes for you, and even when you didn’t understand, he showed you how to play sudoku on the long train rides. Even though you were just nodding along to hear him talk about something he enjoyed.

[frogchiro]

hi me again i know its not eremites but my brain has been HAAAUUNNNNTEEED by omegaverse and COD i just know for a fact Ghost n Price share a role as "leader" of the pack, more Price than Ghost (warrior cat brain: DEPUTY GHOST *WACK*) and yes the entire pack takes care of their sweet omega but they feel the most weight of keeping her happy n healthy :<< Ughehrgrgrgrr Ghost is a silent lover, (this can really apply for annnnnyy au im just barfing my brain out here) brushing your hair out of your face as you sleep, cheek smooshed against your pillow. Oh my god you know that man would invest in silk pillow cases if you mentioned that silk is better for your skin n hair. That one stuffie you can't seem to sleep without, it never seems to get dirty, you don't think much of it. That's cause Ghost brushes it out for you, making sure theres no limp neck syndrome either (basically the fluff gets separated from body n head leaving none for neck) mention that you like a certain snack? or found a childhood snack you had but could never find after a certain point? at least 5 of them in the cupboard, 2 if they come in big packs.

John loves to spend time together with his sweet girl, he doesnt often have the time for it but when he does he loves to savour it. Loves Loves Loves being able to have you on his lap, a cigar in one hand, the other on your waist and a whiskey on the table next to his recliner. Memorizes your routine, if you have somewhere to be that you have to wake up for, he wakes you up, very gently. Kisses against your shoulder, traveling to your face. Kissing your cheek before turning you onto your back, just admires your relaxed face before he whispers your name. ASS!! GRABBER!!! grabs your ass, sure here n there he'll greet you with a gentle spank but he. grabs. ASS. He memorizes your coffee order too!! He may tease you a bit if it something like, 80% cream, 12% sugar and 8% coffee but still. sniffle snorgle so sorry for the long ask snifhghgrngr i love them. and i LOVE your blog, been following for a super long time, found you from pierro tags and just been obsessed. Take care of yourself okay?? MWAH (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

AHHHH THANK YOU FOR THE KIND WORDS DARLING *MWUAH* I'm really glad you like my humble little blog so much and stick around for such a long time <3

I'm gonna go with omegaverse with these again bc I'm obsessed :<

And yes yes you're right!! Alpha Si is a silent lover but he's so expressive when he wants to be! If you're close enough you'll see all the little things; ticks, micro expressions even with the balaclava and/or mask, the little noises like chuffs or rumbles, everything! It's like a whole new world opens up and that's when makes being mated to Ghost beautiful <3

And he can be surprisingly clingy and touchy too! Definitely not right from the start but give him time and soon you'll have a 6'3 baby clinging onto you. What he may lack in verbal communication he compensates with physical affection and little noises; he will literally purr like an engine and make little chirrups in answer to your own as you nuzzle and preen each other in your nest.

Another thing about him are his surprisingly strong nesting instincts! He never really got to make a nest, or rather felt safe enough to do it. With his past, his father who always mocked him for nesting it never felt right until he got with you. Will take up the whole bed and literally roll in it so it's covered with his scent and pheromones and let out a pleased rumble when he finally deems his den good enough and safe before dumping you in it <3

Alpha!Price on the other hand loves quality time spent with you <3 He's much more verbal with you than Si and is quite touch himself in the privacy of his office or den, will always try and keep a hand on you and never let you out of his sight. He's the oldest of the alphas, much more mature and secure in his position as head alpha but will bellow and growl like crazy if he went out for a second out of the den to check up on something and upon returning he notices that you're not there anymore only for you to return from the bathroom confused what's all the commotion about.

Would never admit it out loud but he loves loves loves scenting you! Especially if you're on base with him. John has a strong masculine smell that screams 'ALPHA' in the most pleasant way; will make you go weak in the knees just from a whiff <3

Likes to rub on you when you're laying in your nest at night, his face shoved right into your scent glands and your delighted giggles bring him immense joy as he tickles you with his beard <3

[coyotelip]

wolfstar microfic: knight bus || wolfstar raising harry pt.8 || @wolfstarmicrofic || wc: 474

"I'm never again let you stay in a charity shop this long.” Sirius grumbles under his breath at Remus, who is sitting next to him, as he pulls Harry closer to him on his lap, trying to keep him as steady as possible so that the ice cream-filled boy doesn't throw up.

He wishes someone would hold Sirius the same way, because in the last two minutes he's hit his head at least five times on the shelf next to him. Listen, he was guilty of traffic offenses himself, but at least his adventures with his motorcycle didn't hurt anyone else.

“You know, it was actually you who asked me to find a new chair for Harry, and that's what I've been doing.” Remus replies calmly, as if he's not even affected by the crazy scene around him.

Because of Remus's long search, they stayed until almost all the shops in Diagon Alley were closed, and the ones that were still open didn't have any connected floo fireplaces. On top of that, Harry just hated being apparatied, so their only options to get home were to either buy old brooms at the same charity shop and fly home (not a good idea, you must admit) or catch the Knight Bus, risking their mental health, because no parent in their right mind would let their child go to this psychiatric hospital on wheels.

Sirius's head was beginning to ache from the drink he had had earlier in the bar, the stuffiness and stress. It seemed like they would never get there, and it was one of those peak times when all the seats around them were occupied by various freaks. On the one hand, a gray-haired man with a shaggy hairstyle was staring at Remus, periodically licking his lips and twiddling his thumbs. On the other side, an old witch wearing the ugliest hat ever made was trying to lean closer to them to look into Harry's eyes, smiling broadly at him with her crooked smile and yellow teeth.

Sirius's instincts were screaming in his ears, not knowing which way to rush first, which person to defend, because the two most important people to him were here, under the observation of those freaks.

As if sensing the man's anxiety and uneasiness, Remus puts his hand on his trembling knee, squeezing it tightly. Sirius looks over at him and notices the tense line of his jaw from the way Remus is clenching his teeth. His own instincts and sense of smell were probably going as crazy as Sirius' right now, considering how close the full moon was.

So Sirius forced himself to take a deep breath and exhale through his mouth to avoid the horrible smell, and tightened his arms around Harry's body, who was already snoring in his lap from exhaustion and too much sugar.

[tteokdoroki]

aawi:( imma kiss u, got me thinkin about eiji fucking the stuffie you got him from the fair, fantasizing about having you arched nice n pretty for him while he fucks you. big rough hand holding the back of your neck so you stay nice n steady. he’s close to cumming when he visualizes the way your pussy creams on his dick, the way it sucks him in and makes the nastiest squelching noises he’s ever heard:(

just imagine him calling you up, breathless from the load he just came, begging for y’all to link up for the night 😞♥︎

hehe i kiss u back !!

smut, mdni 18+. afab!reader, no pronouns +mentions of pussy/cunt. kirishima humps a stuffed animal!!

“do you like it, eiji?”

it’s innocent, everything about the situation was completely innocent at the time. you’d asked him the question so sweetly— as if sugar coats the inside of your mouth, laced into your words like hidden traces of drugs that make kirishima high off of your attention. your eyes bright and tone soft. kirishima had gotten used to you looking at him like that, more and more excited each time you saw him.

three to four dates in and he’s already sure you’re the one. he knows the feeling’s mutual— he just wishes that he’d chosen something a little more private for this date instead of the fairground you’re roaming. ‘cause when you look at him like he’s the world it shoots right down to the third leg tucked between strong thighs. when you talk to him pretty, like you wanna take care of him— please him, eijirou’s cock aches, blood pulsing through it, seedy precum coating his inner thigh. even when you’d won the soft and stuffed brown bear for him, his body had begun burning like furnace, the air in his lungs teaming with tiny particles of carbon dioxide and lust.

“do you like it, eiji?” he thinks he hears you say— though it’s probably his doped up and sex crazed brain playing tricks on him.

“y-yeah i like it,” eijirou whimpers to himself hunched over your soft toy later. “god, i wanna cum s’bad. baby please…” the ghost of your name wets his lips, the taste of your chapstick still glossed against them. you’re such a sweetheart— he should feel bad for wrapping the soft toy around his pulsating shaft, smearing it up with everything that it leaks. he should feel even worse for imagining you underneath him. would you even be able to take kirishima? would you cry about how big he is? shake your head with a whine and a pout while your legs shake around his slutty waist and your cute little cunt just stretches around his fat, milky tip?

or would eijirou have to bully his way into you? make you take him all the way to the hilt, until your back arches from the spiked sheets and your nipples brush against his. “fuck,” he curses as he pounds the fluffy material into the sheets, wondering how you would feel when he’s deep inside your guts. the perfect picture of your pretty pussy comes to mind— glistening with spit and slick, clenching around nothing in particular. “you’re gonna make cum, gonna put it in you… all of it. s’yours, baby.”

he’s starting to slur, the room spinning along with it. the bear between his thighs, coated in his arousal— it smells like you. your floral perfume and your strawberry shampoo and oh god what eijirou wouldn’t give to taste you, to fuck you. the redhead doesn’t know what he would prefer, to have you sit on his face or for him to force your pissy down on his cock— have is way with you after you ride him senseless. he knows that you’d coo down at him until he hits just right, grinding constantly against your g-spot, making you choke his dick for all its worth.

“you want it? you want my cum? d-deep inside, yeah?” kirishima rasps, though the pitch of his voice rises in octave and his watery red eyes roll back in his skull. “‘course you do, you do, baby. i-i know, e-eiji’s gotcha,” he goes from thursting through the plushy’s soft arms, a makeshift virgin of your cunt he hasn’t found the time to stretch out yet ( or the words to ask ), to grinding his hips against it in slow, salacious circles. his syrupy precum causing strands of his fur to stick together.

he’s close, so fucking close— cheeks blistering hot and a rosey shade spreading from them right up to the tip of his ears and across the back of his neck. the head of the bed thumps against the wall, sticky, lewd sounds echoing throughout his bedroom and all eijirou can think about is how your pussy would cream on him just like this. a ring of white froth wrapped around the base of him like a little bow to seal the deal. you’d have him a wreck just by lying there, cumming for him and looking pretty.

the thought is enough for kirishima to trip over the edge, soiling the teddy bear from the fair with ropes of thick white seed.

when he comes too, he finds that you’re calling, asking. “hey eiji! just wanted to check that you got home safe, and if you ‘n the little bear have settled in,”

and you don’t realise how flushed he is, how out of breath he is until eijirou pans the camera down to his messy, creamy cock and says brokenly. “i think you should come over and check, baby, we’ve been a lil’ bad without you here.”

[justhere4thevibez]

I have a question and a statement (it's like being at a con!)

Question/ask: what would Eddie do to cheer Chrissy up when she's feeling low? And/or vice versa! Headcanon or drabble or whatever takes your fancy!

Statement: I love you like WOAH and I wish I could give you the biggest hug ever ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

*taps mic* is this thing on?

I love you toooo, and I can feel your virtual hug, it's delightful 🥰🥰🥰 how do you always manage to inspire some words outta me??? Here's Eddie getting a very grumpy Chrissy out of bed:

Eddie crept into their bedroom, sighing when he caught sight of a well-hidden lump of a human underneath their covers. Still a bad day, then.

Chrissy got like that sometimes, where the world just got to be too much, so she’d hide away until it dialed down a little. Sometimes, though, she stayed too long and needed a nudge to get her back up and moving.

Eddie tiptoed his fingers down her shoulder, the only part of her not hidden by blankets, but she scrunched away from his touch.

“Eddie,” she said grumpily. “Don’t wanna.”

“I know,” he said, peeling back the covers a little more to press a kiss to her spine. “But I miss my girl.”

A very unimpressed huff emanated from the checkered blanket lump, but she didn’t resist when he pulled the covers away enough to slip underneath them with her. It was a little stuffy under the blankets, and honestly they should probably get around to changing the sheets sometime soon, but his Chrissy was here, so here he would be.

“You gonna let me see those eyes, pretty girl?” he asked, tracing up and down her spine.

With a little whine, she turned over, giving him the biggest pouty face he’d ever seen. It was like a puppy dog wanting to play fetch and a small child begging for ice cream all in one.

“Wanna stay here,” she said, giving him that pathetic face.

“I know,” he said. “But if you stay here, you won’t get my extra-special blueberry muffins that are cooling on the counter as we speak.”

“Muffins?” she perked up a little. “You could bring those in here.”

“Nuh-uh,” he said, tapping her gently on the nose. “The whole point is bribery, milady. I’m getting you out of bed one way or the other.”

“Killjoy,” she grumbled.

“I know,” he said, tracing her cheeks, her lips, her jaw. “I’m the worst.”

“The very worst,” she said, scrunching up her nose.

“So, you gonna let me be the very worst and drag you out of bed?”

“…Do the muffins have the crunchy sugar on top?”

“Of course,” he said, playing at affronted. “Only the very best for my queen.”

Chrissy sighed, conflicted, and then wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing him like a boa constrictor.

“Fine. But I need one more minute.”

“Mmm, how about I carry you instead?” he asked, holding her close.

“That would be acceptable,” she mumbled into his shirt.

Eddie flung off the covers, making Chrissy squeal, and scooped her up into his arms.

“Onward, milady,” he said, carrying her triumphantly into the kitchen. “Breakfast awaits.”

[dullgecko]

Favorite Desserts; Bad Kids Edition

With a side of family memories ^^

----

Adaine: Earl Grey Cheesecake

While she didn't enjoy the stuffy atmosphere of the Abernant residence (no mementos around the house except in the bedrooms, rarely any blankets or pillows because her parents didn't see any need for them since they trance, etc.), afternoon tea was always served with tiny square pieces of Earl Grey Cheesecake along with other pastries. Adaine found them delicious, and even after leaving her family, she scoured the town for a pastry shop that could replicate it, but soon gave up. When she moved into Morded Manor, Jawbone overheard her gushing about it to Kristin and Fig. He jumped at the challenge, and one day after school Adaine came home to find a beautifully decorated slice of it on the counter with a note saying "Adaine ♡" beside the plate. It was the best cheesecake she'd ever eaten.

----

Gorgug: Bread and Apple Pudding

Every Moonar Yulenear Digby and Wilma will make a bread pudding and serve it with cinnamon apples and a scoop of ice-cream. When he was five, he asked how it was made. Wilma told him that the secret ingredient was love. Corny as it was, Gorgug was completely convinced that all it took to make the dessert was put some bread and apples down on the counter and "I love you," and it'd turn into pudding. When he was nine, Wilma and Digby let him join in on making the pudding. It became apparent that his previous theory was not the case. However, right at the end, Digby gave his wife a kiss and hugged Gorgug's leg, and that's when he realized what Wilma meant. He makes it every year with them, and sometimes without them. (He prefers with.)

----

Fig: Fried Ice-Cream

When Fig was seven, Gilear took her out to a small, family-run diner near the edge of town for lunch. She had empanadas and her father had a kinda pathetic looking ham sandwich, and afterwards they shared a fried ice-cream. Fig got the cherry-on-top (and Gilear got a brain freeze). They sat at the park til the sun began to set, and then they headed home. (Sandra-Lynn made muffins, but Gilear kept the thousand-calorie secret to himself.) It was Fig's best memories. A week before Freshman Year, she walked back to the same place and ordered a fried ice-cream. The waitress who served her mentioned in passing that a sad looking elf came by only a few hours prior and requested the same thing. He left the cherry-on-top.

----

Fabian: Oatmeal Biscuits

Fabian doesn't remember how old he was when he baked his first batch. Cathilda dropped by his room one evening, while his father was out on Leviathan and his mother was taking a nap, and asked him if he'd like to make a dessert with her. The halfling had always been his confidant, and he'd been feeling lonely, so he jumped at the offer. They made their way downstairs and Cathilda announced that they'd be making a pastry that had been passed down from her parents, and she'd decided that he was family enough she'd teach it to him. The recipe was simple; a package of oatmeal, cinnamon, butter, etc. Fabian dropped the first bowl of batter on the floor and freaked out, expecting Cathilda to shoo him back to his room, but she just cleaned it up and they started a new batch. Halfway through a food fight broke out with the old batter, but it was cleaned up before Hillariel came downstairs for another drink.

----

Kristin: Peanut Brittle

Kristin's family doesn't eat much sugar. Sure- they'll make a nice little pie for the Sol holidays, but they're also the kind of family who will base all their meals off of the calorie count. However, during some family vacation to visit relatives in the middle of nowhere, they dropped by a small country store and, at the request (hysterical begging) of her brothers, the Applebees' caved and bought a package of peanut brittle. Kristin tried on of the four peices (she offered one half to her parents, but they declined) and immediately fell in love with it. She tried to remake a few weeks later but the Applebees' refused to buy the ingredients. She didn't attempt it again until moving into Mordred. It was Tracker who suggested she make it, one day while they were at a candy shop. Kristin bought the ingredients, set up in Mordred, and baked a large sheet of it that was almost immediately devoured by her and the Bad Kids.

----

Riz: Flourless Chocolate Cake

Riz isn't one for sweet treats. He likes sugar, but he's also the person who orders a soda in a vintage bottle when the rest of his friends have ice cream. However, his father made a flourless chocolate cake during one of his and Sklonda's anniversaries, and Riz was invited to taste test to ensure that Pok's beautiful wife would get top-notch dessert by the end if it. They served it with raspberries during breakfast. Sklonda enjoyed it immensely. Riz, of course, got all the credit for being "Dad's little sous-chef". Some days, after Pok died, he would make it again, and he and Sklonda would bring it and some lunch out to the cemetery to have a family picnic. Fabian saw him making one once, and asked Cathilda to help him create it for Riz's birthday.

----

Holy- thats- that's a lot. I am SO sorry XD

These are all amazing and awesome. No notes A+

Never apologise for sending me long ones lol (I love reading them on my breaks)

I just have a harder time adding things to them.

[yourhellishdaddies]

{How the boys react to you regressing! SFW edition.}

Notices it before you even do. Can sense you regressing like a service dog.

Gets super excited! He LOVES playing with you when you're little!

Will kneel down and take your hands in his, the sweetest smile on his face.

"Aw, are we feeling a tad small, baby duck? Do you want to play? Come on, up we go!"

Picks you up and carries you to your playpen, sitting you down and pinching your cheek. There are a myriad of toy ducks that he's made just for you scattered around.

Offers to pick out a comfier outfit for you, and dresses you.

"What would you like to wear, pumpkin? Oh, oh! How about your ducky overalls?"

Will play pretend with you for HOURS. He'll make snacks for the both of you to share and will bounce you in his lap.

Sad or upset? Lucifer has an arsenal of horrible jokes and visual gags to turn that frown upside down! Watch out for silly faces and tickles!

Feel like going out? How about a trip to the circus? He buys you all the sweetest carnival food and gets you the best seat for the show! OR! Creates his own circus for you! He's the ringmaster, and you're his assistant!

Gives you a nice, hot bubble bath after such a long day. Rubs your aching muscles with a sugar scrub, and washes your hair with apple scented shampoo. Then he'll wrap you in a big, fluffy towel and carry you to bed.

As soon as you look at him, he's patting your head and taking you by the hand, leading you to his radio tower.

Gives you a kiss on the forehead and asks if you would like a snack. You nod, thumb in your mouth. He gently removes your thumb, tutting you and giving you a plate of food instead.

"Here, darling, be a good child and eat the nice food daddy's prepared for you. You want to grow up big and strong, don't you?"

Has his shadow watch over you if he has to turn his attention to something else. You play peek-a-boo with it, giggling happily.

Gives you chores to do, and offers to do them with you if you're struggling with them.

Encourages you to brush your teeth after each meal.

"You must take care of your smile, dear. After all, you're never fully dressed without it!"

Shows you his radio equipment and how it works, and even offers to let you make a broadcast!

Dances with you while the radio plays his favorite music. He'll take the lead and spin you as much as you want!

If you're tired, he'll rock you in a rocking chair and sing to you quietly. The small, happy sounds you make soothe him and allow him to relax, nearly nodding off himself.

Doesn't notice at first. It takes you grabbing his coat tail and tugging on it gently, gazing up at him with big doe eyes.

When he realizes that you're little, he lights up and swoops you up in his arms, swinging you around while you giggle and kick your feet.

"Hey, kiddo! Need some daddy time? No problem, Vox has got you covered!"

Lets you sit in his lap while he works and will take frequent breaks to play with you.

Knows all of your favorite movies and shows by heart, and will watch them with you for as long as you want.

He even gets into them! He knows all the characters, the songs, and likes to talk to you about them.

Buys you toys of your favorite characters.

Is unsure of how to handle you whenever you become upset or cry, and has a habit of just plopping you in front of the TV.

When that doesn't work, he awkwardly picks you up and shushes you, patting your back and bouncing you in his arms.

"Hey, c'mon now sweetie, don't cry like that. Daddy Vox has got ya, alright?"

Is completely oblivious until you start to get whiny or shy. You may throw a stuffie at him to get his attention.

"Hey, what the fuck!? Oh, ohhh haha! Sorry squirt. Didn't realize you were regressed. Ya need something from daddy?"

Lets you eat ice cream for breakfast and plays with you all afternoon during your sugar high.

Teaches you how to play music, and introduces you to all of his favorite rock bands.

Writes songs just for you, and performs them whenever you're feeling down.

Dresses you in "cool" outfits, and shows you off to all the other angels.

"Ain't they the cutest lil shit you've ever seen?! Hah!"

Is surprisingly gentle with you when you're tired, talking to you in a soft voice and making sure you have your favorite stuffie.

Naps with you when you eventually crash. Holds you against his soft belly like a pillow. He's incredibly warm and wraps you in his wings protectively.

Can tell by your mannerisms when you've gone into little space.

Immediately melts and coos at you, putting you into a diaper and perhaps a onesie or a cute little outfit.

Look you over and hums approvingly, picking you up and cradling you, combing his talons through your hair.

"Oh, you're just too precious, my little owlet. I could eat you up~!"

Proceeds to pretend to eat your fingers and toes, relishing in your tiny giggles.

Takes you to the library in his palace, where there's a special play area just for the two of you.

"Would you like a story, starlight? Or perhaps you'd prefer a nap? We could also play house, of course!"

Will do literally anything you ask of him.

Has several deco pacifiers he's hand made personally for you.

Sings to you whenever you feel upset or scared, and even uses his magic to put on a little galaxy show.

Has learned from his mistakes with Octavia and does his absolute best to communicate with you on your needs.

[radiowallet]

Eyes Open - Chapter One

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Amy Oliver (ofc) Summary: As the leader of the Heroics, Marcus Moreno always seems to get stuck with the worst of the legislative duties, including dealing with the local police stations. The station secretary, Amy Oliver, quickly steps in, finding subtle and not-so-subtle ways to get Marcus the information he needs. WC: 2.5K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Canon-typical violence, talk of police work, slow burn, yearning, idiots friends to lovers, financial stressors, second chance romance, workplace romance (sort of), older love interest, eventually explicit.

Series Masterlist II Main Masterlist II Marcus Moreno Masterlist

Cross-Posted to AO3

>>> Chapter Two

A/N: Hello friends! It's been a very very very long time since I've posted a fic and needless to say, your girl is nervous. I've been hard at work on book prep and promotion, and in between all of that I have been plucking away at this story. I really wanted to write something fun and easy and self-indulgent. Thank you to everyone for reading!

For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

----

Marcus is tired. The kind of tired that builds slowly, the feeling cresting higher and higher until it’s pulsing behind his eyes. The kind of tired that leaves him irritable and anxious, and ready to take it out on anyone or anything. His head is pounding, his body aching from the physical exertion of standing his ground for far too long. It had been what felt like hours of runaround from the chief of police; a semi-regular occurrence that he had grown far too accustomed to. The room was stuffy, the blinds pulled closed and the door shut tight, locking them in with the stale air and cigarette smoke. He fights the urge to tug at his tie, refusing to give the bullheaded ass sitting across from him the satisfaction.

Being leader of the Heroics came with quite a few headaches but the bureaucratic anxieties that came along with dealing with the local law enforcement was one of the biggest thorns in his side. 

“Sir, the Heroics have always done our best to keep the lines of communication with your precinct open. But in order to achieve that, you’ll have to meet us in the middle.”

Chief Baldwin chuckles, the sound demeaning in more ways than one. He leans back in his chair, his heels making a heavy thud as they hit his desk. “As in break protocol? Skirt the rules? Allow vigilantes free reign in my precinct and my city?” 

“I don’t see how my asking for a few unredacted case files is–”

“Forget it, Moreno!” He grins, making a show of picking up the very file Marcus had asked for. “You can go through the proper legal channels and you’ll take what I give you. Now get the hell out of my sight.” 

Marcus turns where he stands and storms out, making sure to slam the door as hard as he can, the bland, generic art hanging on the wall rattling on impact. For a moment he doesn’t move, chest heaving and fists clenching, wishing he had something (or someone) to take this simmering rage out on. Just as he’s about to start walking again, intent on completing his righteous tantrum with a moniker of dignity, a soothing voice hits his ear with the smallest of peace offerings. 

“Coffee?”

He turns to see Baldwin’s secretary staring at him from her desk, a stack of paper sitting in front of her, her pen poised above a signature line. His frown shifts, the tension melting from his shoulders as his head jerks out a nod and he falls into the seat beside her desk, the chair squeaking beneath the weight of him. 

She doesn’t say anything else, instead gripping his shoulder once before standing and stepping away. He watches her from the corner of his eye, her movements precise as she pours him a cup of dark liquid. She tears open two sugars, adding them along with a splash of cream before finally setting the navy blue mug down in front of him. She pours her own, a chipped white mug with a worn-away police badge on the front, and returns to her seat, turning her quiet gaze in Marcus’s direction. 

“You can say it,” she prompts, brown eyes watching him over the rim of her mug, the slightest hint of a smile curling along the corner of her lips.

“Your boss is a jerk.”

She doesn’t respond, but her smile shifts just a smidge wider. She takes a generous sip, humming as if she actually enjoys the taste of it. She sets her coffee to the side, and pushes up the sleeves of her cream-colored blouse, turning back to her stack of papers with renewed intent, jotting something down across the top of the page.

“The two of you have been doing this dance for years now. I’d think you’d be used to it.”

Marcus grumbles into his own coffee, refusing to respond, knowing full well how good of a point she’s making. Amy Oliver has, after all, had a front row seat to every argument between the Heroic and the chief of police from day one. She knew the pattern just as well as Marcus did, and after every instance of door slamming and name calling she was always there to help in her own way. She was one of the few people in the building who brought a smile to his face and he found that even when he knew there would be trouble, Marcus always looked forward to sitting at her desk and sipping her terrible coffee. 

“Might be time to just end these little visits. Not like they get me anywhere.”

“Don’t joke,” she gasps, her over the top pout more than comical. “What would I do for entertainment around here without the two of you having your little pissing matches? My job?”

He rolls his eyes, but her smile is contagious, and before he can stop himself, he’s hiding his own behind his mug. 

“Perish the thought.”

“The audacity,” she murmurs mostly to herself, checking another box with a bit too much flourish, her ponytail swinging from the effort. “How was your weekend? Did Missy end up going out with what’s his name? The one who’s death you’ve been daydreaming about?”

Marcus feels his smile slip at the change in topic, but Amy doesn’t miss a single beat. “She did! I love this! How did Marcus Moreno, leader of the Heroics, handle his baby girl going out on a date?” 

“I’ll have you know I handled it great.”

The admission seems to finally have her full attention. She drops her pen and leans forward on her elbows, the tips of her fingers just grazing the tops of his thighs. 

“Define ‘great’?” 

Marcus swallows hard, ignoring the heat swirling deep in his belly, even as he feels himself lean, just barely, into her phantom touch. Amy, for her part, takes his silence in stride, reading between the lines of everything he doesn’t say.

“Let me guess? Sharpening those silly swords at the kitchen table when he came to pick her up? A stern reminder of curfew while also demonstrating superhuman strength? A text or two under the guise of ‘checking in’?”

He barks out a laugh at how keen her eye really is. “Alright, you got me! I may have leaned a little hard into the protective dad thing.”

“And I bet Missy was still home by curfew.”

“A few minutes early, actually. Not sure why I worry so much.”

Her hand is on his knee before he even has a chance to register the feeling, another comforting squeeze, there and gone faster than he can pull air into his lungs. “Because you’re a dad.”

He coughs and takes another sip of coffee, an action meant only to help slow his racing heart, and leans further back in his chair.

“How was your weekend?”

“Oh, big Saturday night. My mom sent Harris Candy Land. So, naturally we had to play it 5,000 times in a row.”

Marcus feels his chest fill with a different kind of warmth, picturing Amy and her 7 year old daughter going toe to toe over the same board game he and Missy would play night after night. She could downplay it all she wanted, but he knows that when given the chance to spend quality time with her daughter, Amy would play as many repetitive games as there were stars in the sky. 

“You wouldn’t believe how many times she beat me, Marcus! I swear! This weekend I’m pulling out Monolopy and letting her taste my wrath.”

“Big words,” he teases, admiring the way her cheeks heat up beneath his own gentle ribbing.

When their snickers finally start to subside Marcus moves to refill both their mugs while Amy continues to work. She thanks him, easily splitting her focus in a way he’s always been jealous of. She checks a few more boxes and signs one paper after another, all the while never letting her bright eyes and impish grin stray from his attention. She doesn’t falter, even in the throes of her gentle teasing, and Marcus wishes he could spend the rest of his day sitting across from her.

And then, as if she can read his mind, “Can you stay for lunch today?”

“No,” he sighs, hating the taste of the word more than the shit Amy calls coffee. “I have to get back. The rest of the team will be waiting for me.” He takes one final sip of coffee before standing, knocking his fist against her desk in lieu of goodbye. 

“Okay, well, can you toss these files in the shredder for me on the way out the door? I have to get a presentation set up for a briefing, and I’m already behind.”

“Of course,” Marcus agrees, accepting the stack of papers that she had been carefully chipping away at since he walked in this morning.  

“Thanks, handsome,” Amy quips, turning back to the computer screen, the click of her mouse following him as he goes. When he gets to the shredder he stops and tosses one single piece of paper away, taking care to fold the rest in half before sliding them into the breast pocket of his jacket. Once outside, he walks quickly to his car, only stopping briefly to send a quick text.

M: Thank you 

A: For what?

She always was a pro at playing dumb.

It would have been easy to mistake Amy as a wallflower, her eyes always pointed down, her lips seemingly sealed tight, fetching coffee and filing paperwork with zero complaints. She knew the precinct better than anyone, and though every cop in the building would rather die than admit it, she was the reason that place made any difference.

It certainly wouldn’t be the first time a secretary was underestimated. 

But it wasn’t long before she proved that very notion wrong, finding Marcus after his very first argument with Baldwin, pushing a crumpled piece of paper into his hand along with a crappy cup of station coffee. When he smoothed it open later that day, it was to find a list of suspects, hastily scribbled in Amy’s beautifully looped cursive. 

Neither of them mentioned it again, but the tips kept coming, subtle and not so subtle alike. Case files meant for the shredder that never made it, heavy boxes carried to the evidence locker under the guise of a favor, and one hilarious time when a phone number had been penciled into five down on a Monday morning crossword puzzle. Each one had helped him avoid the legislative tape wrapped securely around police work, and Marcus was eternally grateful for all she did to help him and the other Heroics. 

Even if he couldn’t tell a single soul.

M: Next time I’m around, lunch is on me.

Marcus tries not to think about how it’ll probably be a few weeks before he shows his face around the precinct again, especially considering the confidential information he had just been handed. It always felt prudent to keep a low profile after these run-ins with Baldwin. He picks up his pace, anxious to get back to Heroics headquarters and begin parsing through the case report tucked out of sight, his detective skills already thrumming to life with the potential of new puzzle pieces.

It’s another helpful distraction from the lingering memory of her comforting grip around his shoulder, the hint of her smile over the rim of a chipped coffee mug, the teasing lilt of sweet adorations that he knows don’t mean a thing.

-------------

Amy takes care to keep her eyes forward, watching Marcus over the top of her computer monitor, only catching a glimpse of his hands as he tosses away some of the pieces of paper she had handed him, and pocketing the rest. The transition is seamless, and she can’t help but swell with pride as the Heroic disappears completely from view, the front door of the precinct swinging shut behind him.

Her concentration is broken by another stack of papers hitting the corner of her desk. From the sound of the dull thud it gives, she already knows the rest of her afternoon is now spoken for. But, she reasons, at least it should help the hours tick by just a little bit faster. 

“I swear. That Moreno. He just doesn’t know when to call it quits.”

She casts an eye over her shoulder at her boss, refusing to feel any sort of shame for being caught staring. It was hardly the first time she had let her eyes linger on the width of his shoulders or the cut of his jaw, unable to deny how handsome the man is. She was only human after all.

Today had been just like any other, Marcus’s righteous fury boiling away to reveal his tender heart, joking along with her as he slowly relaxed back into himself. Amy could feel the heat making a home in her cheeks, unable to look away from his plush lips as they formed around a laugh or the stretch of his skin as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. But for all her stolen glances and coy flirting, she knew she could never bear to ask for more, not willing to risk the precious friendship they’d built together over the years. 

“You could try playing ball with the Heroics every once and a while.”

“He’s a bleeding heart, Oliver. Walking around with superpowers and worrying about petty police business. Best not to get too hung up on him.”

A bleeding heart is one way to put it. 

A good man is another. 

A rare find in a world full of men and women alike who were anything but. Amy had had her fair share of experience with those, Harris’s dad the best example she could conjure up. But it hardly mattered. He was gone and she and Harris were better off for it. 

And if given the choice she’d gladly take Marcus’s bleeding heart over the man who walked out when there were two lines on the stick instead of one. 

Derek stares down at her, dark eyes nearly piercing where they pin her in place. For the briefest of moments, white hot panic slices through her heart and she worries he’d seen the case report Marcus had slipped out of sight. But then he’s turning away, reaching for the coffee pot that lives behind her desk, pouring the last dregs of dark liquid into his cup. 

“But we’re all on the same side. Right? Derek?”

Amy watches the older man for a minute longer, doing her best to listen to the steady beat of his silence for any lingering secrets. But Derek Baldwin has always been best at keeping things close to the vest, and his true feelings towards the Heroics were no exception. He taps two fingers on the stack of papers, his movement firm, his orders concise. 

“Finish these up and then you can head out for the night.”

“Sir?”

“Take the afternoon. See your kid. You’ve earned it.”

Amy can’t help but smirk, ducking her head and pulling the papers close, anxious to finish up and head home. 

If only he knew the whole truth. 

Earned it doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

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>>> Chapter Two

A/N: All my love and thanks go out to @jazzelsaur who has listened to me talk about these two (and silly book stuff) basically non-stop. Really, truly, I can't believe I get to call you my friend. How is that possible????

[miloscozycorner]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬.

Carer!Michael Taylor x Little!Reader

• Getting up in the mornings was always a bit of a pain, especially when you were so tiny. Michael makes it a bit easier.

cw: age regression.

( 665 words )

Michael’s nails scratched on the top of your head, the sunlight making his skin glow. The curtains were white, not doing a very good job of concealing the daylight. You groaned as you flipped over on the sheets, your palms hiding your face.

“Tired, pup?” Michael asked, tilting his head as he looked down at you. You grumbled incoherently, before forcing your head up to meet his warm gaze.

Finally, you have a short nod as you covered yourself in the warmth of the blanket, holding your stuffed bunny tight to your chest. “I don’t wanna go to work.” You complained, pouting as you flipped on your side.

Sunlight warmed your form but still, the grogginess remained in your eyes. Michael gave a short sigh as his strong arms helped you sit up on the bed, ruffling your hair. “C’mon, little one. We have to get up. I have work and so do you.”

While you wanted to protest, he helped you place your feet on the carpet floor, ignoring the pour curling your bottom lip. Plus, you couldn’t deny that you loved the attention he gave you in the mornings.

“Why don’t you get dressed, sweet pea? Dada will make some breakfast.” He patted your cheek, and you mumbled to yourself grumpily but obligated. The smell of pancakes and bacon wafted through the apartment, and you couldn’t deny how your tummy rumbled.

Soft footsteps pattered down the stairs as you walked up to the kitchen, perching on a bar stool as you watched him flip the bacon over. You held your stuffie close in your arm, juice sitting in your favorite sippy cup.

“Nicole and Joey are out for breakfast, so we should have the morning to ourselves.” Michael sighed playfully, “Who even knows what shenanigans they’re up to.”

You giggled into the head of your stuffie at Michael’s playful words, placing bacon and a stack of pancakes on your plate. “Alright sugar, eat up. Or I’ll be very offended.” He joked, sitting next to you.

Per usual, you decided to add lots of toppings. But of course, Michael always indulged you despite how silly your pancakes looked drizzled with sprinkles, hot fudge and whipped cream. “Dada look- is a smiley face!” You exclaimed proudly, showing him the face on your pancake shaped out with whipped cream.

Michael gave a little gasp as he looked at the pancake, ruffling your hair. “I do have quite the little artist, hm?” He cooed teasingly, watching you take a bite out of the pancakes.

Giggly laughter escaped your lips as you ate, shifting in your seat. “Dada, you’re being silly.” You replied, finishing your breakfast slowly as Michael rose from his chair and checked his watch.

“I’m sorry to give the bad news baby, but I think it’s about time for work.” He finally spoke, looking at the time with a small frown. “Go brush your teeth, and we’ll get a move on, okay?”

A pout curled at your lips as you huffed, standing up from the chair with your arms crossed over your chest. “But I wanna stay here, with you.” You insisted, grumbling as Michael gave your arms a reassuring squeeze.

“I know honey, but we both have some kid responsibilities to get done. But guess what?” Michael said, crouching and looking down at you. His hand wrapped around your fingers, giving it a gentle squeeze.

You tilted your head, looking down at him curiously.

“Once we both get done with all our boring, big kiddo stuff, dada will put on your favorite movie and maybe we can even have some ice cream, hm? How does that sound?” He offered softly, giving you a small smile.

Even though you grumbled, you still nodded in agreement, perking up at the idea of ice cream. “Mkay, dada, I guess.” You mumbled as Michael stood, giving your hair a small ruffle.

“Alright, good job, pumpkin. Now go brush your teeth, alright? No stinky breath here, you silly goose!”

[anoctoberpepper]

Nicky/Nick/Nicholas system head canons that haven't made it into my fic yet.

Nicky likes LaCroix because it’s in a can, and he can drink it when his friends are drinking beer. Lime is the only flavor worth the effort. 

Nick would just rather have beer. 

Nicholas likes coke, hot chocolate, and putting ice cream in root beer.

When forced to exercise, Nick likes sparring, Nicholas likes solitary running outside, and Nicky likes weightlifting or beating Lark at any fitness thing the other man is doing.  

Nicky likes his coffee with sugar but no creamer. Nick pretends to like black coffee but takes advantage everytime Nicky makes coffee and leaves it out for him. 

Nicholas would never! It would stunt his growth. He does, however, know how his mom likes her coffee. 

Nick has a blue baby blanket that’s worn thin with holes. 

Nicky has a panda stuffie his mom gave him when he was a little kid, but he doesn’t know which timeline it’s from. He suspects Nicholas, because Nicholas really likes the stuffie even though he pretends like he’s too cool for it. 

None of them can cook well, but Nicky and Nick can cook out of necessity. Their top recipes are ramen, boxed mac ‘n cheese and pancakes. When asked to eat healthier by his mom Nicky starts stocking his fridge with raw fruits and veggies. It’s not uncommon to find cuties and raw broccoli in Nick’s pockets. Nick doesn’t eat the veggies but Nicky fully intended too. He’s doing his best. Nicholas is fully a kid junk food fanatic and should not be left alone with the credit card. If there’s a grown up around he will pretend to follow the horribly outdated food pyramid that Jodie took as gospel in their house. 

They all hate swimming, but Nicky tried to learn after a few missions went bad. Everyone makes fun of his sputtering doggy paddle. Grant tried to teach him once, but it didn’t go well. 

None of them know what day of the week it is at any given time. They show up to D.A.D.D.I.E.S. whenever they want, work when they want and disappear at odd hours for meals.

[koithelittle]

cg!wolfbur moodboard (maybe some hc's?) 🥺👉👈

cg!wolfbur moodboard + hcs !!

note; sooo I sorta kinda read wolfbur as dark wolf after reading your request over and over again and ended up making a darkwolf one BUT I fixed my mistake so here! I hope you like it<3 I'm actually going through my drafts today and queing everything up so most requests should be out today & tomorrow :3 as always requests are open it just may be a few days before I get to them!

paci creds; littlest._.creations on ig!

navigation

other moodboards (requests are open!)

taglist; @jjtheresidentbaby @lillylvjy @wilmaslittleflower @whos-nicooo @littlerosiesoot @arabellasrose (ask or dm to be added!)

- i think he's a bit more strict as a cg, more sound boundaries and rules. just because he doesn't want you hurt, he cares about you and puts your safety and well-being first.

- things like candy/sugar limits, how far you go when you play outside, bedtimes/routines, no swearing, etc. small things but, more yk?

- he tries his hardest to not laugh when you do swear when regressed because, come on, it's funny!

- you're all puffy, getting mad because he said no ice cream for breakfast (when really you're just tired) and so you tell him 'f you!' and he just smiles.

- it sounds so silly with your baby voice, but he just smiles and tries to calm you down.

- I'm not very familiar with lycans or how it works so I won't touch on that too much bUT he does like to chase you around playfully in his human form and tell you how the big bad dada wolf is gonna get you! you're just giggling and squealing and running from him, but end up getting picked up and spun around by him!

- cuddles you into his chest and likes to curl around you and rub your back n stuff!

- he's very soft with you and he's very observant, he knows what you need before you do, often times.

- offers his hair for you to play with, like he'll lean his head down for you to play with his curls.

- any sort of stim like that helps you when you're fussy or having a meltdown

- so he'll offer his hair, or his hands or a stuffie for you to play with

- it's almost like a reminder that he's real and there and youre okay, y'know?

- likes calling you baby wolf and little one mostly but uses a lot of petnames!

- he's a good cook so he makes all the meals, and he's good at it too.

- cuts your food into bites though, he doesn't want you to choke!

- plays with you in the floor for hours on end

- most of the time he cleans up while you're napping but sometimes he'll have you help.

- he wants you to be as stress free so he'll just do it for you, he enjoys doing it though!

- like he'll just put on an old record and go around and clean up the house while you're napping in your room.

- wakes you up from naps with soft coos and sweet forehead kisses!

- likes giving you his sweaters/shirts to sleep in bc they're comfy but you like how they smell like him!

[pollyanna-sys]

Tracer hcs!

partner gave me a idea for this one! enjoy! and as always reqs are open

cg:

spoils the heck out of her little when they're well behaved

has the best stories to tell

hot days? she takes you out with Emily for ice cream

carries a first aid kit for when you get hurt, or has mercy on speed dial

calls you pet names such as: little racer, little one, dear, love

little:

a absolute menace to catch when playing tag

hates naptime with a passion

gets a sugar rush so easily

cries if her stuffies fall of the bed

needs a pacifier or her clothes have holes in them from the chewing

[adollchild]

do you have any stuffies names ideas? 🩶

Hi there ♡

Here’s a few names that I like for plushies:

♡ Angel

☆ Belle

♡ Bubble

☆ Butterfly

♡ Candy

☆ Candyfloss

♡ Cherry, Cherrie

☆ Chibi

♡ Cinnamon

☆ Cloud

♡ Coco

☆ Cookie

♡ Cupcake

☆ Cream

♡ Daisy

☆ Doll, Dollie, Dolly

♡ Dream, Dreamy

☆ Fairy

♡ Fluffy

☆ Glitter

♡ Honey

☆ Melody

♡ Milk, Milky

☆ Muffin

♡ Parfait

☆ Peach

♡ Petal

☆ Periwinkle

♡ Pixie

☆ Rainbow

♡ Strawberry

☆ Sprinkle

♡ Softy, Softie

☆ Sugar

♡ Teacup

☆ Vanilla