#and i have a habit of pacing while i sing

[bludraws094]

trying to figure out voices for @cymtimearg, do yall think a whispery sound fits quartz?

[sheep-from-rad]

Idea! Neglected bar singer darling.

The joint they sing in is on the very outskirts of Gotham. The bars in the basement of a restaurant.

Its pretty clear darling is saving up money to slowly inch away from Gotham and from there neglectful and sometimes (often) cold family.

So they dress as a Him/femme/them fatale and saunter up to the stage and sing there lil heart out and get both the thrill of all the attention in a room being on them and the money in there tip jar to boot.

Imagine what happens when a clip of darling singing goes fucking viral. (I'd like to think it's would be "be your baby tonight" give it a listen if you want. I like norah jones' cover)

What I'm saying is there is no way any of the batfam would approve of darlings career choice.

I love this kind of asks!~ Requests are now open again but we warned, I'm a snail paced writer T__T This took a while because I have this habit where I write it down first on paper before typing it. Like I make a draft first and reread before typing it to see if I should add more or remove some. First fic about singer reader: here and part 2 here. 😅

**DC characters belong to DC and I don't give permission to feed my writings to AI. Thank you**

Masterlist(Batfam)

Masterlist (All of my other fics)

divider by: @k1ssyoursister

Okay okay, here me out. I know you said secret bar under a restaurant but my brain read the word ‘bar’ and ran away with it 😭. 

You know what this smells like? Scandal and maybe even a disaster waiting to happen too. You know what's a famous bar in Gotham? The Iceberg lounge that is run by Mr. Cobblepot (Penguin) and  is frequented by rogues  such as Riddler. 

Life in the Iceberg Lounge isn't that bad, maybe intimidating at first but it became a small comfort. Mr. Cobblepot lets you keep the tips, the lounge beauties (Raven, Lark, and Jay) are great companies, and workplace harassment? You don't really have to worry about that. If you ever get flirted on or harassed by small fries and drunkards and then rest assured a bigger, scarier person at the back of the crowd will beat the harasser and throw them out. They might be villains but they have standards and harassing the lounge’s songbird is a big no no! 

The clip of the singer reader went viral for a ton of different reasons: (1) The singing and the amount of simps you raked 24 hours after the clip has been posted. I have a headcanon that Mr. Cobblepot will nickname you as either Nightingale or Songbird to fit the crew because the lounge beauties are nicknamed after birds.(2) People can see villains just chilling at the background of the video. Riddler's nursing a whiskey at the counter, Two face is playing chess with Penguin who is multitasking in helping mix some drinks. Hell, even Harley and Ivy are in the background having a moment with the strippers.

(3) Why is Bruce Wayne’s kid at the Iceberg lounge? I have a teeny tiny headcanon that even though the reader was neglected they are still forced to attend galas once or twice because Bruce won't and then it will be like a big media scandal. Also reader's public appearances with Bruce or with the other Wayne children might be low but they still have hundreds of followers. The Wayne name alone is basically a celebrity name because of Bruce being heavily revered by the public. Think of it like nepobaby shit. (4) That stage presence and sheer seductiveness. Being a Wayne, I'm sure the reader was taught etiquette by Alfred and was taught how to dress properly. They are also taught how to behave. However on that vid, you look like you were dressed by the Gotham sirens (Ivy, Harley, and Selena) themselves. All those good boy, good girl, good child stuff are out of the window. If the reader was just blending in the background before and the video is the opposite. It's almost commanding every viewer to look at them, pay attention to them, worship the very ground they walk on, and love them! At this point just expect simps. 

The family loves the video but at the same time they also hate it. They had their copies downloaded and saved and then they'll immediately task Barbara into scrubbing the video off of the internet but it's too late. The video has been re-uploaded to hundreds of different accounts and some  news outlets had already published articles about it. The articles ranged from sweet ones like praising the reader for their awesome stage performance and singing to downright insane clickbaits like ‘Bruce Wayne secretly allied with Gotham rogues?’ 

The whole thing is very stressful and I pray to the DC gods that Bruce Wayne is very healthy because this guy's blood pressure might as well go high up. Imagine trying so hard to keep up with the ditzy playboy public persona to hide your vigilante secret identity only for your kid to be filmed singing and being cozy at the Iceberg lounge. Not only that! You also placed yourself in danger too! It's not a secret that a lot of rouges knew Batman's real identity (Joker knows it, he just doesn't care. He's so cool for that). Sure they don't attack Batman when he's Bruce and sure they are a sweet pseudo-family to you right now but who's to say that they won't use you when push comes to shove? 

While Bruce deals with the media, Barbara and Tim work on the damage control and tracking every video, expect heavy guilt tripping and interference from Damian, Dick, and even Alfred (in his defense, he wants you safe and will only ask for you to get a better job or at least work in a place not frequented by villains). Dick will be actively poisoning the well. He'll make you sit down and read the crime archives with him (starting from the heaviest crime down to the pettiest crime) and will tell you stories about their encounters with each of them. Damian will try to keep you from getting to work and will try to keep you in your room if you haven't moved out of the estate. He'll ask you to go around with him, feed his pets with him and even asked you to watch him train (he doesn't know how bonding works, please be understanding). If you had left the estate and then expect him to show up and walk in your place like he owns it. He's one of those cats that you feed once and then suddenly shows up and won't leave you alone anymore. 

Oh, you still won't come home? You still wanna continue that dangerous job of yours? Pick your poison then. Do you want them to call Jason to get to the bar and take you home, knowing him some heads will sure go flying. Or do you want the family to stage a stakeout, infiltrate the bar, and capture and lock up all the villains forever. Go on, go choose. 

[simpingforstardew]

misty [chapter one]

pairing: sdv harvey x reader

synopsis: harvey has always been a man of routine and order— although just as he begins to tire of his life in pelican town, a new farmer moves to the valley and turns his life around. chapter one.

warnings: pure fluff and romance; eventual smut, but that'll be tagged when the time comes !! please enjoy my harvey playlist while you read ♡ (this is crossposted from ao3).

word count: 2.2k

| next chapter >>

Harvey gently lets the needle of his record player caress the notches of the vinyl; after a skip, his apartment is filled with the soft melody of Ella Fitzgerald— he hums, content.

The apartment itself is unremarkable, a guest would consider it lived-in, cozy perhaps, but as the doctor looks around his living room all he can see is mess. Abandoned laundry draped over his plush red sofa, dishes waiting patiently to be washed after his microwaved dinner, and his newest TAMIYA model plane yearning to be completed.

Although the glow of the early winter sunset through his window paints a picture of comfort, it’s certainly a bachelor’s flat.

He walks to his kitchenette, stretching his tense shoulders, as he discards the dirty dishes into the sink and grabs a wine glass. Placing the glass onto the small dining table, Harvey considers which wine to indulge himself with tonight; after some performative consideration his reaches again for his usual Merlot— he chuckles to himself, realizing that he has always been a predictable creature of habit.

He pulls out the only chair at the table, bringing the glass to his moustached lips before being interrupted by the ringing of his phone. Glancing at the caller ID, he smirks. Had it been anyone else interrupting his evening, he would have been rather disappointed.

“Elliot, what do I owe the pleasure?” He says, moving from his place in the kitchenette to turn his music down, wine glass comfortably in his grip.

“Harvey! I don’t suppose you’re free tonight?” Elliot sings down the phone, “We haven’t been able to catch-up in quite a while, and I’m finally finished with the first draft of my newest manuscript!”

Elliot has always been a good friend to Harvey since the writer moved to Pelican Town over a year ago— although excentric in his own ways, Harvey has always appreciated having someone else in town to rely on for advice and wine recommendations.

“Congratulations, but I’m afraid I can’t tonight,” The doctor sighs, looking down at his drink, “I’m… rather busy this evening.”

“Lying will get you nowhere, my friend,” Elliot chuckles, “I have it on good authority that the clinic has been empty all day, and besides I still owe you a drink.”

“Yes well,” Harvey racks his brain for an excuse, pacing around his small living area, “The clinic being empty is a blessing, but the medical files won’t update themselves.”

“Very well,” Elliot sighs, melodrama has always been the writer’s strength, “Perhaps another time then.”

Harvey drops his phone unceremoniously, guilt infesting his mind. He could very well have finished his wine, grabbed his favourite green coat from the hook on the front door and travelled down to the saloon. Despite himself, however, he finds himself returning to the dining room table to pour the last of the Merlot into his glass.

Despite knowing every citizen of Pelican town after years of check-ups and festivals, he’s found himself drawn to isolation. Not that he didn’t adore the village and all of it’s quirks, he had just grown despondent over the recent weeks: stressed from his medical work, bored of his own repetitive routine, and— if Harvey is being honest with himself— hopeless. Winter tends to shine a spotlight on your own loneliness, particularly after an unremarkable birthday spent working.

After finishing the last of his wine, Harvey places the glass into the ever-filling sink and combs a hand through his brunette hair. The grandfather clock in the corner ticks away the minutes, echoing through the silent apartment. He sighs, the weight of the day finally settling in as he loosens his tie and prepares for bed. The soft glow of his bedside lamp casts a warm hue on the room, a lone figure moving through the routine of solitude. Perhaps the new year will be better. Perhaps, at the very least, it will provide Harvey with the change he so desperately needs. He thought about praying for such a change, but Harvey has never been a religious man; instead, he begins to dream.

The next morning, sunlight filters through the half-open blinds, painting streaks of gold across the bedroom floor. Harvey stretches, the stiffness in his shoulders a testament to a night’s restless sleep. The clock on the bedside table blinks 7:30AM. Harvey walks down the rickety stairs to the clinic, the call of songbirds outside travelling through the open windows— a melody that almost makes the dispassionate off-white of the practices’ hallway feel a little more pleasant.

“Good morning Maru,” Harvey waves, spotting the coily pink hair of the nurse behind the front desk. He adjusts his tie as he slips into his doctors coat, “You’re here early, what’s the occasion?”

Maru chuckles as she relaxes into the uncomfortable blue office chair, “What? I can’t come in bright and early to start the year right with some administrative work?”

Harvey scoffs, a smirk tugging on his lips, “Frankly, I would have thought people your age are preoccupied nursing hangovers on the first day of the new year— although your help is always appreciated.”

“Well frankly,” Maru imitates the older man, “I can’t believe you take me for such a party animal, Doctor Greenwood. How about I run out and get us some coffee, hm?”

“Have I ever told you how wonderful you are, Maru?”

“Not nearly enough,” Maru giggles, standing up from behind the reception desk to leave before stopping with a gasp “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you— we received an application for someone new to register with our clinic, their paperwork is on your desk.”

The bell on the clinic’s front door chimes as Maru exits, leaving Harvey baffled at the implication of a new patient. With the exception of Elliot last year, nobody has moved into the valley in a very long time. Perhaps with more excitement than is needed, Harvey dashes to his office; sure enough, a single document lays on his desk.

APPLICATION FOR REGISTRY, PELICAN TOWN CLINIC (GENERAL PRACTICE) (Y/N) (L/N) | +19201 184523 Hilltop Farm, Pelican Town...

Harvey adjusts his glasses as he reads the application in awe, why hadn’t he known someone was moving to Pelican Town— let alone into the abandoned farm on the outskirts of the valley? Perhaps he would have known if he had gone to the saloon last night with Elliot: the writer is typically much more aware of the town’s news and gossip than he is.

As he moves into the waiting area of the clinic, Harvey finds his eyes glued to the application in his hands— as if he is attempting to memorise every letter formed from the delicate handwriting on the form. The familiar bell of the front door chimes, failing to distract the doctor from his reading.

“Maru, that was extraordinarily fast— you didn’t get decaf again did you? That prank just isn’t as funny as you insist it is.” His large hand reaches up to adjust his glasses as they slide down the length of his freckled nose.

“Oh, not a fan of decaf,” An unfamiliar voice replies, “I’ll try to remember that.”

Harvey looks up from the paperwork, a faint blush washing over his cheeks as he coughs, “I- I’m terribly sorry I-,” He takes a selfish moments pause, just to look at the stranger in front of him, “I thought you were… somebody else, can I help you?”

“It’s okay, I just came in to make sure my application to register here arrived, I’m (Y/n)” You smile, extending your hand out to him as your eyes sparkling under the clinic’s soft light.

“I know-” Harvey scolds himself for his bluntness; he goes to shake your hand, “I mean, I was just reading through your application! Consider it approved… Forgive me, I had no idea anybody new was moving into town.”

“Well, yeah— it was kind of a last minute decision, I’m taking over my grandfather’s farm just west of here. You must be Doctor Greenwood?” You ask, not wanting to dwell on discussions of your late grandfather.

“Harvey,” He lets his arm fall, already missing the warmth of your smaller hand clasped in his own.

“Excuse me?”

“Please, you can call me Harvey,” The doctor places the now forgotten application on the reception desk behind him, “If you would prefer, of course—”

“—Harvey,” His name sounds heavenly coming from your lips, almost as angelic as your soft laughter, “It was nice to meet you.”

In an instant, you're gone. The bell chimes as you leave, singing it's own goodbye.

Harvey is dazed, his hands clenching together as his blush grows darker, “It was lovely to meet you too,” He says to an empty waiting room.

As he turns towards his office, the bell chimes once more; quickly followed by Maru’s animated voice, “Order’s up! One totally-not-decaf coffee for you, and a mint-hot chocolate for yours truly,” Maru giggles.

“T-Thank you, Maru,” Harvey takes the paper cup from his assistant’s hand, “Guess who just left the clinic.”

“Oh no, was it George? I told him that his prescription won’t arrive until next week!” Maru perches on the reception desk, sipping from her hot chocolate, “Do you want me to reschedule his appointment to this afternoon?”

The doctor chuckles, finally tearing his eyes from the front door of the clinic, “No, there’s no need for that— thank you though, Maru.”

The pair drink their beverages in a comfortable silence; Harvey quickly realising that one decaffeinated coffee wouldn’t be enough to satiate him.

“Right, well… I’m going for another one.” Harvey slips out of his doctors coat and into his dark-green cardigan, “Will you be okay here alone for five minutes?”

“You can trust me, Doc,” Maru offers a confident thumbs-up, “I’ll just call if there’s an emergency!”

After a nod to Maru, Harvey is quickly out the door. He basks in the spring warmth before walking down to The Stardrop Saloon— an unnecessary journey considering his coffee machine lay unused in his apartment, but Gus’ coffee is just so much better! At least, that’s what he tries to convince himself. In truth, Harvey just needs an excuse to leave the clinic; a trip upstairs to his apartment will only leave him feeling more claustrophobic.

“Wholly to be a fool while Spring is in the world my blood approves, and kisses are better fate than wisdom” Elliot sings, falling in pace with the doctor as the clinic door slams shut.

“Whatever are you talking about now?” Harvey turns his head to Elliot, slowing his brisk pace to enjoy the short walk with the writer.

“E.E. Cummings, Harvey! You haven’t read his work?” Elliot tuts, patting Harvey on the back as they walk together, “Shame on you.”

“Ah, of course,” Harvey playfully scoffs, sending a smirk to the shorter man, “Consider me utterly embarrassed.”

The pair are greeted by the music from the jukebox as they walk into the Saloon, both waving to Gus.

“Well I can tell how embarrassed you are by the blush on your cheeks,” The writer leans against the bar, eyebrows raised, “Or, has a certain new farmer caught the doctor’s attention?”

“I haven’t a clue what your talking about.” Harvey knew better than to feed into Elliot's delusional romanticism, he simply rakes a hand through his already swept back hair.

“You know you’ve always been a horrid liar, my friend.” Elliot smiles, “They’re quite lovely, aren’t they?”

“Who?” Harvey continues to feign ignorance while ordering a coffee from Gus.

“(Y/n), we met earlier this morning.” Elliot replies, “You would know that they’ve been the topic of conversation in town for a while now… If you came out of that small apartment once in a while.”

“You’re right, you know,” Harvey slouches, ignoring his own advice to his patients about the importance of posture, “I do regret not coming out last night, for what it’s worth.”

“I’m always right,” Elliot gleams, “My question is, was I right about you needing to come out more, or right about (Y/n) catching your eye?”

Harvey takes the coffee from Gus, placing 300g on the bar, “You know you’ve always talked too much, Elliot.”

The writer laughs as he watches Harvey leave the Saloon, “And you love me for it, good friend!”

On the short walk back to the clinic, Harvey finds himself thinking about you as he sips on his coffee. It wasn’t hard to make an impression as a new person in a small town, but never before had Harvey been struck by a stranger’s beauty so quickly, their interaction was short, yet the doctor’s heart raced as he remembered the way the farmer looked up at him.

The bell rings as he enters the clinic, Harvey realises this is probably the most the bell has chimed in a single day.

“Hey, Doc,” Maru greets, continuing her work on the computer in front of her, “Don’t forget that Evelyn has an appointment tomorrow at 10:30.”

“Thank you, Maru.” Harvey sips his drink, walking through the waiting room into his office, “Oh, and make sure it’s on file that (Y/n) (L/n)‘s application to register here is approved.”

Perhaps it’s selfish that a doctor would want to see his patient so soon— he certainly wouldn’t wish for emergency visit, his heart hurts at the thought of (Y/n) being injured— but as Harvey sits down in his office chair and begins to file his paperwork he can’t help but want to see that new farmer again.

[thevirtualvalentine]

TAPE SIX : DOWNWARD DOG !

Starring… ‘Black Leg’ Sanji 📸

SET SCRIPT : “ooo what about sanji and yoga?”

MATURE WARNING(S) : smut, unprotected vaginal sex, dom!reader, mirror sex, yoga teacher!reader, student!sanji, handjobs, cunnilings, semi public sex, fingering, flirting, pervy!sanji, cum eating, femme!reader, minor cum play, “miss” used as a title, reverse cowgirl.

DIRECTORS CUT : for my first tumblr mutual @sanjisjuul !!!! I had to deliver the best for the ceo of Sanji. I got off that vc and started cooking in my drafts, I thought you’d enjoy the fic going in this direction. 🤭

Sanji did not really know what to expect using his “1 free session of yoga” ticket that zoro ended up gifting him for his birthday (long story). At the very least he was hoping he wouldn’t be there alone. However, of course fate casts its cruel hand and he’s the only one there in the studio.

Occasionally, his anxieties will get the best of him. He began frantically pacing the floors like a mad man and sees you walk in, his entire mood does an immediate 180. Just a second ago he swore he would destroy Zoro, now here he was singing his blessings in fine tune.

“Here all by yourself handsome?” you say smiling while walking through the studio doors to set down your belongings. One thing you adored was teaching beginners how to practice yoga, but it is very rare to have a male student. Especially one this handsome.

To be fair, for all his womanizing it’s rare that Sanji is shown the same energy back. The second your sultry voice slipped past your plump limps and called him handsome, he thought he was going to start hyperventilating or maybe salivating on the spot. You are the most beautiful woman he thinks he’s ever seen in his life, bountiful curls tied up in a silk scarf, a matching set that accentuates your undertones, and a set of eyes that pierce straight through his heart.

If Cupid shot him, he wouldn’t mind one bit. “Is it really just me in here?” He asks turning around the room to see if anyone had appeared from thin air within the last second.

“Don’t be scared, I don’t bite hun,” a shiver runs down his spine, “I’m y/n, your yoga instructor for today, just gonna be me and you so let’s try our best!” You clap your hands in excitement as you queue up some music.

Sanji will try his upmost best to not freak you out with his habit of love bombing and undying adoration for the mere ground you walk on, but only if you knew what he was thinking, ‘A beautiful babe and so radiant, goodness you could be the sun itself… a perfect goddess here before my very own eyes. Thank you stupid moss ball, but only this once.’

As you begin to work with Sanji, you quickly realize he’s excelling at all the physical parts of yoga, just not the mental ones. So, while he may be able to hit the cleanest triangle pose you’ve seen a beginner do due to sheer flexibility, he can’t seem to relax or concentrate at all.

“Deeper breaths Sanji, relax for me honey.” Well, he can’t when you say things like that to him. He is pleased to know you can’t tell it’s a furious blush overtaking his face because he can blame it on exercise and perspiration.

“I—,” your place your hand on top of his diagram, squatting down so you’re eye level with him, “can’t..” the weight of your palm makes his heart rate sky rocket

“Let’s try something different then, yeah?” How could he deny you when you ask so nicely with a pretty smile? He nods, waiting for further instructions. Sanji is an excellent student, what a good listener.

“Kay, I want you to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. Try to breathe in, and out deeply.” You motion for him to follow you to the mats, sitting down behind him as he tries to find his centering.

You curve your body behind him like a puzzle piece, ‘helping’ him by placing your hands on him once more. “Mhm, yes. Just like that.” He’s supposed to be watching himself in the mirror, practicing his breath, not watching your hands essentially grope him. Fuck. He’s going to get hard, he can already feel the blood rushing there with the help of your hot breath on the back of his neck.

You keep talking him through it, pretending not to notice the unruly state you’re leaving him in. He shudders continuously, unable to regulate his bodily functions when your hands begin to trail down his abdomen.

“I can help you relax better y’know, just ask,” your teeth graze the shell of his eat and he can’t help himself from begging for your sweet beautiful mercy.

Sanji is a big man, but he utterly trembles in your hold. His hard cock out in broad daylight as you stroke him for anyone to see if they walked into the studio by chance. You have him practically sitting in your lap with his legs spread wide open, pumping his cock in your hand as you turn his head to kiss you sloppily. He’s panting into each kiss, barely making the timing because he can’t stop moaning like a whore.

“Fu—fuckfuckfuck, ngh— wait slower slower,” he chokes out, his balls feel heavier knowing you’re watching his every twitch and whine in the mirror. You are beautiful but oh so cruel and he loves it.

“Slower? Didn’t you just say you wanted me to go faster? You don’t seem to be very smart Sanji,” you continue to pump him up and down as he feels his orgasm rearing its head already, he hasn’t gotten to feel you, he can’t cum yet.

The way you tut your head to belittle him makes Sanji want to squeal out in mind-numbing pleasure, it was just so perfect. “I’ll cum!! D-don’t wanna,” he pathetically whines.

You decide you’ll reward him for his honesty, slowing your hand to bite the sensitive skin of his neck. “Then switch places with me,” you offer, letting your eyes meet in the mirror. The pad of your thumb swirls over his oozing tip waiting for an answer.

If it wasn’t for the fact he was catching his breath, evident from the steep rise and fall of his chest, Sanji would have already been behind you. “Yes, pl..please.”

He helps strip your shirt over your head, massaging your breasts lightly and twirling your dark nipples between practiced fingers. You sigh into his touch, letting your head rest against his shoulder, “I like it hard and fast, can you do that for me Sanji? I wanna make sure it’ll all fit,” you pur.

“Fuck me,” he whispers under his breath, he’s still leaking. Yet he’s no where near as drenched as you are when he slides your panties down your legs.

Pools of it running down your ass crack, he coats his fingers in the white translucent substance. “Help yourself,” you tell him, eyeing the way he plays with it between his fingers. He spreads its before sticking it back together. What a perv.

He almost gags himself trying to taste it all, desperate for the sweetness. He plunges his fingers into your sopping cunt, sticking one knuckle deep while testing the waters. He prods around trying to see what you like, when he finds the one that makes you tighten around him, he smiles; adding in another lithe digit.

You’re leaning against him for support as he works up his pace, pounding his fingers into you like clockwork. Once he starts he can’t stop the inertia, feeling his muscles burn in his bicep and forearm.

But it’s worth it, all worth it when he hears your guttural whines and praises. Your pussy rewards him with even more slick that he stops himself to taste, gorging himself on it. “Let me taste it please, I have to taste the real thing, miss please,” oh and he begs so sweetly.

With a nod he scrambles around to wrap his arms around your thighs, strapping himself to your cunt. His tongue is hot and heavy on your lower lips, lapping at anything he can. “Augg-ahhh Sanji! Oh my god,” you can feel your eyes roll back into your skull as you prop yourself up on your elbows for some stability.

But he doesn’t stop, exploring further, pressing his appendage at your entrance. The smooth ring of muscle no match for his hunger as his tongue guts through you. “It fe—fuck—els so good, don’t stop!” If anyone else needed to come by the studio you’re sure it would sound like murder with the way he was killing that cat, no mercy.

He’ll scissors his digits, press his greedy fingers against your gummy soft walls while sucking your clit. Then maybe prod at that spot that makes you go limp. He’s just so excited he is getting to make you feel good he didn’t even realize he was also moaning. You were just so addicting, he felt at peace.

He stops when he realizes you came all over his face, coating him in the residue that he begins to lick up like an obediently trained mutt. You’re gripping his scalp with your nails to stop him from overwhelming you as he hisses. The sight of him below your mound is enthralling, so you drag his face in your cunt to work off the aftershocks. Grinding into his plush pink tongue.

You decide you’ll mount him reverse cowgirl on your feet (with help of course), he holds your hip as you find balance. You feel him start to stretch your entrance, welcoming the painful burn. He’s long and skinny, hitting a spot inside you that has you saying, “oh fuck,” as you try to take more of him.

You watch yourself in the mirror, his inches disappearing behind your pussy lips, form crumpled over trying to selfishly fit him all inside.

But you keep going, needy to hear more of what you could pull out of Sanji. Bounce by bounce you pick up the pace, swallowing his cock with each clap of your ass.

The view was unreal, your thick curls beginning to fall down your back as you worked up a sweat. Titties bouncing up and down as you rock back n’ forth on your feet. “More! More! Please, need it so bad miss!” His hands help piston you on top of him, wanting to lend you whatever support you might need from him. He’s just hoping you can’t see the way his toes curl from how tight and wet you are.

You place your hands behind you on his chest for even more balance, the new angle making you feel even fuller than before. You both felt on fire, your hot breaths began to fog up the mirror as you made love on the floor.

Sanji, desperate to feel you even deeper, thrusts up to match your pace. It makes his cock drag just right on your clit and the pressure begins to build again in your stomach. It’s not like he’s much better though, a blubbering mess underneath you even if you can’t see his face, the desperation of his hips is evident enough.

A few moments later you’re both a sweaty and convulsing mess on top of each other as he makes you cum harder than before. It knocks the wind out of you as you shake in pleasure. Sanji is left whimpering underneath you, unable to pull out.

“So, same time next week?” You ask.

Enjoy? Reblog & click to see event masterlist!

[roosterforme]

The Grateful Dad Part 2 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley can't believe you and he are about to be parents. Just when he was getting used to the idea of how his life would be, the two of you get an unexpected surprise. And by your third trimester, when you make a promise to him and then break it, he's left to deal with some things in his own.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swears, smut and pregnancy

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is an optional one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time!

Read Part 1! Check my profile for my masterlist

It didn't fully hit Bradley until the first time he noticed that soft swell of your belly. It seemed to sneak up on him, the way it took several months before it was noticeable. But once it was there, it was all he could think about. 

He was going to be a dad. And you were going to be a mom.

"Sugar," he whined that first day he noticed it. "You have a bump." You were lying in bed, trying to read as he pushed your tie dye shirt up a few more inches. "This wasn't here yesterday."

You set your book down and glanced to where his hands were resting gently on your belly. "I guess I do have a little bump," you replied softly, running your fingers through his hair as he kissed the spot just above your belly button. "My wool skirt is getting snug for work, but I thought I was just bloated."

Bradley was mesmerized. "Do you think it's a girl or a boy?" he asked, glancing up at you with a grin. 

"Do you really care?"

"Not at all." He kissed your bump and started humming his favorite Grateful Dead song. Bradley knew this was likely the only time you'd want to get pregnant. Your career was important to you, and you were already concerned about the baby coming before the end of your spring semester. You said you were going to have to take the following fall semester off from teaching, because you didn't want to let down the math majors at San Diego State University where you taught calculus. 

"You don't know how easy it is to love you," he sang to your belly before abruptly rolling over in bed. 

"Where are you going?" you asked him with a laugh. 

He grabbed his phone and opened his music app, mumbling, "The baby should get to hear the Grateful Dead perform it. Sounds better than when I sing."

He queued up the song and placed his phone near your belly as it started. "I don't know. I kind of like your version, Beer Boy," you promised, and he kissed your lips before pushing your shirt up high enough so he could see your tattoo of the song lyrics. 

"That's good, because I'll never stop singing it," he whispered, running his nose along your tattoo. He placed one hand gently on your belly and sang along.

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

"I'm so excited," Bradley whispered for the seventh time in five minutes. "I don't think I've ever been this excited before. I also kind of feel like I'm going to throw up."

"Relax," you whispered, taking his hand. If he was this bad today when you were getting a high definition ultrasound, maybe you didn't want him with you when you actually delivered the baby.

"I just want to see the bean," he mumbled, practically bouncing in the waiting room chair. 

You tried not to smile, because he actually looked a little pale and nervous. "We don't even get to find out the sex today."

"Yeah," he replied, exasperated, "but we get to see the bean, Sugar. Up close and personal."

When they called your name a minute later, Bradley jumped out of his seat and dragged you down the hallway. He paced around the first room while you had some blood drawn. And then he paced around the next room while you waited for the technician to come in.

"Why did they call us back if they weren't ready?" he grunted, eyeing you up and down as you sat on the exam table in a hospital gown. "This is taking for fucking ever."

"Watch your language in front of the baby," you scolded, and his eyes went wide.

"Shit, you're right. Oh, fuck. Damn it!" You were cracking up now as he sat down with his forehead resting on his palms. "I'll get better, I promise!" 

"You have about six more months to shape up your act." 

He thought about everything he had planned for the next six months. Buy a crib and a stroller. Put a car seat in the Bronco. Paint the extra bedroom. Put those little plastic safety things in all the outlets in the house. 

When the exam room door opened, he jumped to his feet as a woman in pink scrubs walked in. "Hi, I'm Elaine! Sorry for the long wait, but we were double checking your blood work," she said walking toward you.

"What's wrong with the blood work?" Bradley asked, his voice suddenly hoarse. The desire to throw up returned, and he was reaching backwards for the arm of the chair. 

"Nothing at all," she replied smoothly, helping you lay back on the table and opening the hospital gown. "A lot of different levels were elevated, so we wanted to be sure. But if you're ready to see the babies, then we can get started."

"Babies?" you and Bradley nearly shouted in unison as Elaine opened the software and turned on the gigantic monitor. 

"Yes," she replied with a smile. "You're having twins."

Bradley nearly collapsed back into the empty chair. "Holy shit. Holy shit, Sugar!"

"Twins?!" you asked Elaine. Bradley couldn't tell if you were excited about the idea or not, but he was thrilled. Two babies? In one go? This was better than getting a promotion at work. This was almost as good as his wedding day. Almost as exciting as when you and he reunited in Virginia after ten years apart.

When you reached out your hand toward him, Bradley rocketed out of his seat to get to you. "Are you happy?" he asked, lacing his fingers with yours and kissing your forehead. 

"I... I think so. I think I'm kind of shocked."

"Me, too. But in a very, very good way."

As the two of you watched the monitor while Elaine moved the wand around on your belly, Bradley's eyes filled with tears. He had never seen anything so sweet in his life. 

"Two little beans," you whispered, and Bradley watched you cry as you smiled. When he nodded, you added, "Yes, I'm happy."

But when Bradley got you settled at home, his apprehension started to creep in. You were clearly tired. You were the one growing the twin beans. He probably wasn't doing enough. As you slowly dozed off in bed wearing his old Grateful Dead shirt, he watched your lips part, soft breathing taking over. 

His thoughts drifted to his own parents. He could only remember how much pain his mom had been in before she died, and he could barely picture what his dad looked like unless he had a photo in his hand. 

Bradley could feel his heart rate pick up, the rapid pounding filling his ears started to make him feel crazy. He sat up in bed, trying to catch his breath. "Fuck," he muttered. He was going to mess this all up. He didn't know what he was doing. He couldn't remember his dad. And all he knew was that his mom somehow made him feel safe without really doing anything that he could model his behavior off of. Carole just made everything seem effortless, which was not helping him right now. 

He bolted out of bed, and then your eyes were open and focused on him. "What's wrong?" you asked groggily. "I need you to snuggle with me."

He studied your pretty face and your earnest expression. "What if I suck at being a dad?" he blurted out.

You set your head back down on the pillow and reached out for him with one hand. "You're good at everything else. You'll be good at this, too."

"But what if I'm not?" he demanded. "I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I barely even had a dad." He thought of the navy desk lamp and how he'd followed in his father's career path and how he somehow knew Nick had loved him. 

"You've never let me down yet, Beer Boy." Your soft words and the way you reached for his hands were enough to get him back into bed. And then his pulse returned to normal as you wrapped him up in your arms. This time he was dozing off before you were. 

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

Bradley went sprinting out of work at the beginning of lunchtime. If Maverick kept them one minute longer, Bradley would have earned himself some push-ups for insubordination. It was your anatomy ultrasound scan day, and now he was going to be late meeting you there.

"Fuck," he groaned as he yanked down the zipper of his flight suit a few inches as he pulled out into traffic. He was trying so hard to stop swearing, but days like this just called for the f word. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he growled, weaving around cars.

He wanted to know more about the twin beans. You and he had been talking about names, and he was beyond excited about everything. Last weekend he had painted the nursery a soft gray color and assembled two cribs. He even ordered a variety of matching tie dye onesies. Then you told him he did a great job and pushed him down on the floor on the new cloud shaped area rug in the nursery. His reward was getting to run his hands all over your round belly and tits while you rode him.

Bradley was in love with you and the babies, and being late today was making him upset. You were already on the exam table with the technician when the receptionist led him back to the room.

"Oh good, you're here," you sighed as he rushed toward you and grabbed your hand.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," he whispered, kissing your forehead and then your belly.

The technician smiled as Bradley knelt next to the table with his hand in yours. "Let's begin?" the technician asked. And when you nodded, he rubbed some gel on your belly and ran the wand slowly back and forth until those adorable beans were on the monitor just like last time.

"They got so big!" Bradley said, proud of how nicely they were growing.

"They are measuring right where they should be," the technician said, pausing the screen to take some pictures. "And I can tell you the sex for both of them if you want to know."

"Yes!" Bradley nearly shouted, looking up at your beautiful face as you laughed. "Please!"

"Okay, here we go."

It felt like an eternity as Bradley gripped your hand, waiting to be informed about what he was looking at on the screen. You were stroking his knuckles with your thumb, always so calm and analytical. 

He glanced at your face and watched you as the technician said, "Baby number one right here is not shy at all. He's waving hi."

"He?" Bradley was on his feet, trying to get closer to the screen. 

"Yes. A boy," the technician said.

"Another little Beer Boy in the making," you said before Bradley leaned down to kiss you.

He was sure he looked ridiculous as he said, "Nah, he'll be so much better than me. He's half you."

The way you smiled up at Bradley had him kneeling next to you again. "What about baby number two? Can we look at that bean now?" he asked, squeezing your hand. 

"Okay," the technician said, drawing Bradley's attention toward the screen again. "And baby number two...well she's trying to hide behind her brother, but there she is."

Bradley shouted, "Yes!" so loudly that you and the technician both jumped a little bit. "Oh my god, Sugar!"

"One of each," you whispered, covering your lips with your shaky fingers. 

"This is exactly what I was hoping for, but I didn't want to say it out loud," he whispered against your ear before kissing you all over your face. "Two little beans. One of each!"

You wrapped your arms around Bradley's neck and said. "You don't know how easy it is to love you."

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

"I'm not going to make it," you moaned, laying on the couch while Bradley made dinner while his phone rang. You were at the start of your third trimester. You were huge. You were always hungry. It was getting hard to stand up for your lectures that were longer than an hour. And Bradley was the only thing holding you together. 

"Fuck!" he suddenly shouted from the kitchen. 

"What's wrong?" you asked, lifting your head up from the cushion. When Bradley walked into the living room, his brow was pinched and he was eyeing you warily. "What?" you demanded, struggling to sit up.

He knelt in front of you and eased you into a seated position. "Sugar," he whispered, pleading with you. "I just got the call. A special mission."

Tears sprang to your eyes. "A deployment?"

"Yeah, baby. I'll be back before the due date."

You cried while his lips met your belly through your shirt. "But, Bradley," you sobbed, "I can't! You've been doing everything! I'm so exhausted, I can barely function! And what if they extend you? That did that last time!" 

Great big sobs wracked your body, and you started gasping for air. Soon you were close to hyperventilating, but Bradley got you into the bathroom just in time for you to throw up in the toilet. And then you curled up on the floor and looked up at him. Your voice was a harsh whisper as he rubbed your back. "I can't do this without you."

He looked distraught as he said, "I don't want you to have to. But Uncle Sam owns my ass."

You closed your eyes, dreading asking him for the mission details. So instead you whispered, "No, the beans and I own your ass. Uncle Sam just borrows you."

"You absolutely own my ass, Sugar," he replied softly, kissing your tear streaked cheeks and helping you get to your feet. "Let's try to eat dinner, and we can talk this through."

Bradley carried two plates of food to the dining room table where you had the perfect view of the glossy white doors he had used to propose to you. He had hung them up on the wall, turning them into the most beautiful work of former frat boy art you had ever seen. 

SUGAR 

WILL 

YOU 

MARRY 

ME?

You picked at your food as he filled you in on the missions plans. He was perfect. Your husband was perfect, and now you were scared you weren't going to be able to get through a month without him. And then you started to spiral, because if four weeks alone while you were pregnant felt too daunting, how would you manage twins while he was gone for months at a time?

"Beer Boy?" you whimpered. "I can't do this."

"Yes," he said adamantly, "you can. You're the strongest person I know."

You bit down hard on your lip as it quivered. "What if something happens to you? Or me? Or them?" Your voice broke, and once again, Bradley was collecting you into his arms and abandoning the dinner plates. You cried softly as he helped you out of your work clothes and into his old Grateful Dead shirt. And then you curled up in bed and watched him strip down to his underwear. 

You watched the flex of his muscles as he took the hideous, tie dyed Grateful Dad shirt out of his drawer and pulled it on. "Nothing's going to happen," he whispered as he got in bed beside you. "You'll wear your shirt, and I'll wear mine. And we'll think about each other the whole time I'm gone. And I'll hang up all the sexy photos I have of you plus the ultrasounds of the beans. And before you know it, I'll be back. And then the beans will be here. And then we'll actually be even more perfect than I ever thought possible."

You cried yourself to sleep in his arms, soaking up all of his beautiful words. 

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

Bradley's duffle bag was packed. He was leaving in the morning. You'd made him a little folder of copies of the ultrasound photos, and he'd added a few wedding photos as well. He laughed every time he looked at the photos from your Vegas wedding with Elvis. But right now, he felt like crying.

Somehow you were holding it together better than he was right now. "You coming to bed, Beer Boy?"

He zipped his bag closed and looked up to find you standing there in your navy blue bra and matching panties. Your tits looked bigger than ever, practically spilling over the lace cups. And your belly had gotten so big, your panties were tucked below your bump. He reached out for you, pulling you close so his nose met your belly.

"I want the two of you to be good for Mommy while I'm gone, okay?" he whispered, kissing and tickling you with his mustache. He was rewarded with your fingers in his hair and a kick from one of his twins. "I love my Sugar Babies."

You giggled and said, "I wonder if that was the jellybean or the spoonful of sugar that kicked you." Over the past few weeks, you had taken to giving the twins cute little candy related names, and Bradley couldn't get enough. 

He'd never get enough of you either. The way your fingers felt in his hair as he knelt in front of you. The sound of your voice when he closed his eyes. The warmth of your skin where he kissed you. 

"I'm gonna miss you," he whispered before he stood and followed you to bed. 

"I'll be there to pick you up four weeks from tomorrow," you promised, reaching back to unhook your bra. "I promise."

Bradley groaned loudly as you sank back into the pillows. "Your tits look delicious," he moaned, crawling across the bed to get to you. "Fucking huge."

"Watch your language in front of the babies," you whispered against his lips as he palmed your breasts and stroked your tattoos. "Daddy."

Bradley pulled your underwear down your legs and tossed them aside, running his fingers through your slick. "Bradley!" you gasped, your eyes following his every move as he brought his fingers up to his lips. 

"You look delicious, and you taste delicious," he told you, licking his fingers clean before you reached for his cock through his boxer shorts. You squeezed him, eliciting a strangled, needy noise, and he whined your name. 

And you let Bradley do whatever he wanted with a devilish little smile on your face and his name on your lips. You sucked his cock until he was panting, and then you leaned back with your hands on your chest. When he ran his wet length through the valley between your breasts, you urged him along.

"I want you to," you whispered as he titty fucked you. Your tongue darted out to taste him as he tried to go slow. But you looked and felt so good, he was already so far gone by the time he pulled away from you.

"I wanna make you feel good," he gasped as you pushed him onto his back. "As fucking good as you make me feel all the time."

He was treated to the sight of you awkwardly positioning him at your entrance as you had to work around your belly. And when you slid down around him with your perfect pussy, Bradley let his hands come to rest on your hips. Your body was wider now and impossibly sexy, and you rode him as you ran your fingers gently along your breasts. 

"I love you, Sugar," he whispered, running his knuckles along your clit until you were clenching. His other hand came to rest on your belly, and Bradley felt so connected to you, so in love with you, that he felt a tear leak from his eye as you came from him. And then he came inside you as he met you halfway for a kiss.

As you eventually started to doze off on his shoulder, still full of his cum, you whispered, "I love you too, Beer Boy."

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

Being away from the three of you was tedious at best. Bradley found it hard to pay attention to the things he was supposed to do. He knew the mission parameters inside and out, but he didn't take the time to think about how dangerous it was. There was no space left in his jumbled thoughts for anything except you.

Phoenix had promised to go to your appointments with you in his absence, and when he was allowed to call you, he listened intently to your updates 

"Jellybean boy is measuring a little bigger than our sweet girl, but they both looked good! Nice and strong according to the doctor. And I gained three more pounds, which is probably not ideal, but all the meals you made and froze for me are so yummy." 

And then he flew the special mission, set on making sure it went as flawlessly as possible. Determined to stay as safe as he could. Whatever it took to get back home to San Diego and his perfect little family. 

You were less than a month out from your due date now. And when Bradley arrived on the dock exactly four weeks after you'd sent him off with some filthy kisses, he was so excited to see you. See if you'd gotten bigger or had trouble walking now. He was excited to kneel down and talk to his twins. 

But when he turned his phone on, he was greeted with a voicemail message of your incoherent sobbing. He dropped his bag to the deck of the aircraft carrier as the sound of you crying met his ears. His heart sank to his stomach. You'd left him this message just a handful of hours ago, but when he tried to call you back as the ship was docking, you didn't answer. 

"Come on," he whispered, his voice harsh and filled with unshed tears. "Sugar." But still, you did not answer.

He could feel himself gasping for air. He promised you nothing was going to happen. He never broke his promises to you. Not even when he was twenty one years old and didn't understand the strength of the love he felt for you.

He was staring at his phone screen for a few seconds as tears filled his eyes before he realized he was receiving a call.

"Nat?" he asked, answering his best friend.

"I'm on the dock," she said simply. "I'll find you as you deboard. We're going to head right to the hospital."

"What happened to her?" he asked, clutching his own stomach, barely able to speak. "To them?"

"Early labor," was all she said. Then she sighed before repeating herself. "We'll head right to the hospital."

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

You weren't sure what was going on. All you knew was the intense amount of pain you were in was enough to make you throw up over and over again. When your water broke during your calculus lecture, you shouldn't have been surprised. You'd been feeling off all week. You tried to chalk it up to missing your husband, but it was more than that. 

After your water broke, you collapsed, only breaking the fall with your hands on the hard floor. You were pretty sure at least one of your wrists was broken, but nobody at the hospital was even slightly concerned about that. Not when they were trying to determine if your babies were okay. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you had to beg Natasha to leave you and pick Bradley up from the port on base after she met you at the hospital. You had been informed that the babies were fine, but you needed to deliver them now as you were running out of amniotic fluid. They would deliver the beans by cesarean section. They were going to put you under general anesthesia for it.

You cried as they prepared you for surgery. You were alone. Bradley was probably with Phoenix by now, but they wouldn't wait any longer. "Let's get started," your obstetrician said as you settled on your back with your battered wrists as your sides. 

"Okay," you agreed, crying as the drugs to put you under started to cloud your vision. 

"Sugar!" 

You laughed softly at the nurse to your left. "That sounded like my husband," you said with a giggle. Then you caught sight of Bradley running into the room in his khaki uniform, drenched in sweat. "It looks like him, too. Hi, Beer Boy," you said, still laughing as he rushed toward you.

"Sugar," he gasped, eyes wide. But they wouldn't let him touch you as you fell asleep.

Pain. You woke up in so much pain. Everything hurt. You were on your back and the room was dark and you could hear beeping. 

"Bradley?" you gasped, trying to sit up, but you couldn't. You started crying and calling his name, and then he was at your side.

"I'm here, Sugar," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "It's okay. I love you. You're just waking up again."

"Again?" you asked, completely confused. "Where are the beans?"

"In the nursery," he promised. "They've been in the nursery since yesterday when they were born." 

Your head was swimming with information and memories and fear as Bradley left you to turn on the dim hospital room lights. "They were born yesterday?" 

"Yes," he told you, making his way back over in his rumpled, wrinkly uniform. "And you had surgery on your left wrist today."

But you were starting to remember more now as your eyes settled on the white board across the room. The birth times and birth weights of the twins written in an unfamiliar scrawl. Baby A and Baby B were born just five minutes apart. You must have been on a lot of pain medication, because surely those were not the names you and Bradley had discussed?

You cleared your throat a few times, and then he was grabbing your cup of water and holding it so you could take a sip through the straw.

"Bradley," you started, but he stopped you with a kiss to your chapped lips.

"I'm so proud of you, Sugar," he said, letting his forehead come to rest against yours. "Do you have any idea how fucking amazing you are?" 

"But Beer Boy," you said, glancing at the names written on the board.

"The doctors said the kiddos are doing just fine, and when they wake up hungry in another hour or so, you'll be able to see them."

"But I-"

"And only your left wrist was broken. Your right one will heal on its own. And your abdominal incision will heal up great. And you'll be back to work after the fall term, no problem."

"Bradley!" you said loudly, realizing it was nearly three in the morning as you checked the clock before looking at the names again. "Did you go rogue and name the children without my approval?"

Your husband was silent now, and you could see his cheeks were a little red. "Just the middle names," he muttered softly. 

You sighed and read out loud from the board. "Emma Bean Bradshaw and Levi Garcia Bradshaw," you said slowly. "Really?"

He looked so sheepish as your gaze met his again. "I thought they sounded nice," he whispered, and you felt your lips curve into a smile.

"I love them," you said, swallowing hard. "Their names are perfect."

And then you were treated to your husband's lips and mustache as he kissed you all over your face until you were laughing. "I thought you were mad," he said with a sigh of relief.

"Not mad," you promised, letting him adjust your bed and get you more water. He flitted around the room for a few minutes, and then the door opened as two nurses pushed bassinets into the room, and you cried as you looked at your daughter and your son in their matching tie dyed onesies

Bradley picked Emma Bean up in his arms, and he gently held her out so you could give her a kiss. "Here she is. And check it out, Sugar. I've been feeding them and changing them since yesterday!" 

You marveled at how he held her and bent to coo at Levi Garcia at the same time. And then a moment later, he was sitting in the chair right next to you, feeding each baby a bottle as he sang his favorite Grateful Dead song. 

"Beer Boy," you said with a soft laugh. "You really are the Grateful Dad." 

He smiled at you and said, "I haven't been home yet to wash my hideous shirt, but one day soon we can all wear our tie dye together." 

You examined the cast on your left wrist and ran you right hand gingerly along your belly which felt horribly tender. "You're going to have to take care of all three of us when we go home."

"I'm up for the challenge," he promised immediately. "Nat's gonna help. And Bob will, too. And we'll be just fine. Better than fine."

Bradley stood carefully and set down Emma Bean, your tiny daughter, along your right side. Bradley didn't move as she snuggled up against you, rather he bent and let you kiss Levi's cheek. 

"We'll be perfect," you supplied, smiling at your son and daughter as you listened to your husband sing. 

"You don't know how easy it is to love you."

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

I couldn't leave Beer Boy hanging in his ugly Grateful Dad tee without letting him know how was having twins beans. And I just know he's going to take the best care of all three of them. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[janeyseymour]

Love Thy Neighbor- pt 7

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.

Summary: You're sick after Ellie. Who is there to take care of you, but the woman that you've fallen in love with- and also your neighbor and coworker.

WC: ~1.75k

She kisses you back. Of course she does. But this time, when she pulls back, there’s a look of panic on her face instead of yours.

“Y/N,” she whispers.

“You’re worth the risk,” you tell her softly, pulling her in again. “But we should probably talk about all of this when Ellie isn’t going to possibly wake up in our laps.”

She nods, but she doesn’t make any moves to leave. The redhead instead wraps an arm around you and tugs you in closer, if that’s even possible. Her hand gently finds its way around your waist, and she absentmindedly traces patterns on your hipbone while the other hand gently runs its way through your daughter’s hair.

You shift just slightly to lay your head on her shoulder, and that’s when you feel a delicate kiss pressed to your temple.

It’s been a while since you’ve felt that. Your ex-husband used to do that all the time, but long before you had even caught him cheating (although you had an inkling) he had stopped that sweet habit of his. You take a shaky breath.

“You okay, hun?” Melissa picks up on it immediately and looks down at you worriedly. She can read you like a book- she’s always been able to. She could read you from the second she saw you in the parking garage trying to diffuse that meltdown from your daughter.

You nod. “Jared used to kiss my temple a lot,” you admit quietly.

“I won’t do it again,” she tells you. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head as you take another breath. “No. I liked it… it’s just been a while since there’s been any sort of romance in my life- it’s going to take getting used to again.”

“I understand,” Melissa whispers to you as she kisses your head again. “We’ll take it at your pace- just like we have been.”

You smile at her sadly. “Thank you for being so wonderful. You didn’t have to wait for me.”

“I didn’t have to, but like you said… you’re so special. Worth the wait and all the risks in the world.”

When Ellie wakes up, she insists that Melissa stay with the two of you. So the redhead follows you into your room and lays down with both of you- the little girl sandwiched in between the two of you. She whines that you two aren’t close enough for to lay on both of your bodies, forcing Melissa to get closer to you- so close that you’re hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. Only then is your daughter satisfied and able to fall asleep with the help of your neighbor’s soft voice singing Italian lullabies.

Once your little girl’s breath evens out, Melissa stops. She turns her head to look at you in the soft light that is trickling in from the moonlight, and she kisses you gently.

You wake up before your alarm feeling absolutely terrible- whatever Ellie has, so do you. You also wake up without your daughter on you. You poke your head up just slightly to see that your girl is now on the other side of your neighbor, curled into her tightly with the blankets up to her chin. And then you realize that your arm is slung around Melissa’s waist and holding onto her tightly. You let her go to roll onto your back- and then the sickness really does hit you.

How did you catch it so quickly? Ellie was hardly around you yesterday, instead choosing to be held by her new favorite person.

The cough that you let out is horrendous, and it wakes Melissa with a small jolt.

“Sorry,” you rasp out.

She turns just her head, still holding your sleeping daughter to her chest. “You caught it.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “But I’ll be fine.”

“No you will not be,” she rolls her eyes. “You’ll be staying home so you and your daughter can rest.”

“I don’t have any sub plans, so I have to just make do,” you cough out.

Those green eyes are rolled again. “I have sub plans from last year. I’ll put them in your room, because you are not going into school today.”

“Mel.”

She takes one hand away from around Ellie and lays it on your forehead and then on your cheek. “You’re already burning up.”

“I’ll be fine.” You go to sit up when a wave of nausea hits you, and you’re forced to lay back down. “How are you not dying right now?”

“Immune system of steel,” she chuckles out softly. “I already told you that.”

The alarm clock in your room goes off, and Ellie opens one eye before curling into the redhead even more.

“I have to go to work, sweetheart,” Melissa tells her gently. “You gotta let me up.”

“I go see Mrs. Howard?” your daughter asks sleepily.

The second grade teacher smiles softly. “No, hun. You’re gonna stay home with your momma today and get some rest.”

“But-”

“Cuddle with your momma,” Melissa directs her gently over her and into your arms. “She isn’t feelin’ too great either, so when I get home it’s snuggles and soup for both of you. Okay?”

Ellie hums and curls up against you. Melissa makes her way out quietly, but not before pressing a gentle kiss to your daughter’s head and then one to your own. Even in your sickly state, you can’t help but smile softly. You’re asleep with your little girl before she even leaves the apartment complex.

The next time you open your eyes, the clock is reading 11:30. Ellie is sitting up and playing with her dolls next to you quietly. She beams over at you when she sees that you’ve finally risen.

“You feelin’ better, baby?” you croak out.

She nods. “All better!” That makes you smile- having a sick child is never fun. And, if she’s feeling better today, the chances of you feeling okay or at least better tomorrow are much higher. 

You manage to get yourself out of bed to make your child lunch, but even then it’s really only to heat up the soup that Melissa had made last night before laying on the couch.

Ellie plays with her toys on the floor before curling up with you and acting as your human blanket while she watches cartoons- you don’t have it in you to entertain her with anything other than a screen right now.

The next thing you know, Ellie is quietly climbing off of you to open the door for no other than Melissa Schemmenti.

You peel your eyes open to see her making her way in. 

“How’re you feelin’?” she asks you, although Ellie answers.

“I’m all better!” she grins a toothy grin. “But Momma is not feelin’ good. She sleeped all day.”

“Slept,” the two of you correct her gently at the same time.

“Why don’t you come spend some time over at my place while we let your momma rest?” the redhead suggests gently.

Ellie nods eagerly before looking at you, but you’re half asleep again. Melissa takes it upon herself to just lift your little girl onto her hip and take her across the hall.

You only stir when your neighbor brings your sleeping girl back over.

“Oh, god,” you groan. “I’m a terrible mother.”

“No you’re not,” Melissa scolds you softly. “Let me just put her to bed, and then I can take care of you a little more.”

“But she-”

“She’s fed, she’s in her pajamas and shouldn’t wake up through the night because I had her use the bathroom a couple times before we settled on the couch, and she’ll be ready to go to school with me tomorrow if you’re still feeling under the weather.”

“You’re the best,” you cough a few times as the redhead heads in the direction of your daughter’s room.

She returns a few minutes later, although she passes you and heads straight for the kitchen. She comes sauntering back in a few minutes later with a hot cup of tea for you, which you take gratefully.

“You’re cute when you’re sick,” she notes softly as she sits next to your head. She pats her lap gently, and you move so you’re resting your head on her.

“No I’m not,” you laugh softly. “Jesus, I feel like shit.”

“I’m sorry you still feel like crap.” She looks down at you with so much love in her eyes before pressing her warm hand to your forehead. “Good news is your fever broke.”

“Thank God,” you mumble. “Who was my sub today, and were the kids okay?”

“Ava,” the woman tells you. “But they did great with her. I told them I would let you know how wonderful they were and that they definitely deserve a class compliment star.”

“That’s so good,” you sigh softly as you sit up to sip the tea. You make a face. “I don’t have honey?”

“I bought some on my way home today,” she waves you off. “You’re gonna need it.”

“Thank you,” you mumble as you lay back down.

The two of you watch television for a bit before the redhead can feel your breath evening out as you give back into your slumber. She glances down at you, soft smile appearing on her face as she realizes that she’s the lucky one that gets to take care of you and Ellie. Knowing that she should probably be getting ready for bed herself, she gathers you in her arms and takes you back into your bedroom. She lays you down gently before pressing a delicate kiss to your temple and pulling the blankets up to your chin. You shiver and wake when she’s turning away.

“Stay?” you request softly, catching her by the sweatshirt sleeve. She turns back with a smirk on her face before crawling into the other side of the bed with you.

You curl into her, desperately searching for some sort of warmth- you’re still freezing your ass off despite having spent all day in a sweatshirt, sweatpants, two pairs of socks, and your robe tied around you tightly.

“You’re still cold?” she raises a brow as she wraps her arm around you. You shrug. Before you know it, you’re asleep.

You wake up to Ellie whipping open the door. Her eyes are wide when she realizes that you and Melissa spent the night together without her. 

[crtstormie]

Loser, baby reprise idea

If we get a reprise of loser, baby in season 2 I want it to be the opposite of the original song.

like wether that be something going on with alastor, his gambling/ alcohol tendencies, or the fact that he hates he’s a winged cat. Maybe, if we wanna be angsty, all three. 

Like how the OG song was a combination of ANGEL’s relationship with VAL, his self destructing habits like drugs and alcohol, and his self hatred for his body and being a toy for Val, (or a PET, like how Alastor sees husk!) 

And then I believe this would take place somewhere more personal like in a enclosed room or bathroom or even at the hotel bar, where the OG was in a messy open setting on some rando street.

Preferably it would be later in the season so there would be a bigger break and relationship development to help the reprise hit harder since it has ALREADY become their song. (And to help the pacing)

So husk would be all down in the dumps and Angel would lift him up the same way Husk did to him all those months ago but since then, their relationship has become deeper and sweeter so it would be slightly more… cute? 

Like I don’t want something as light as the more than anything reprise compared to the original song where it just becomes lighter and more natural, no.

I want it to be sweeter in a way where it reflects how these two are still struggling together, are still losers together but it’s become less insulting and more lighthearted and teasing. like we already see in episode 8 that the losers thing has become a cute lil joke. 

So, it developed even more to where the reprise makes it genuinely sweet while not dumbing down on the purpose of the original song? That would be PERFECTION.

It would be shorter than the og since it is a reprise, and it would NOT be where they kiss. I have many ideas for when they kiss (if they even do cuz omg I love slow burns but idk if I could wait ANOTHER season if we even get a S3) probably about a minute long like the other reprises.

Since I’m so hyperfixated on this idea, I already imagine the main line is changed ever so slightly. 

Instead of ‘you’re A loser baby,’ it’s something super sappy and romantic like ‘you’re MY loser, baby,’ and they would both joke about how soft and stupid they’ve become?!?! I would MELTTTT.

I highly doubt if this were to happen these would be the lyrics by here’s my idea of how it would kinda go 

Angel to husk: so things look bad, and you’re back’s against the wall… *much slower, lighter, softer.

You’re whole existence seems, fuckin’ hopeless..

You’re feelin’ filthy as a {I feel like they would change the lyric here, but it would depend on the context and setting to make it work. Like how the og was outside a gross bar, the line ‘dive bar bathroom stall’ fit for that situation. Or it’s just a general metaphor and I’m insane.}

Can’t face the world sober, and dopeless… [ok imagine instead if it getting higher here like the OG song it gets LOWER? It would be a nice change for a reprise : o]

You’ve lost.. you’re way… but you know you’re life ain’t wrecked {There’s two ways the buildup to the chorus rewrite could go. - 

They could keep it the same, or change it up in a way to where Angel is referring to how Husk already helped him through this and this situation and how he knows it’s pointless to dwell. Which is why he’s helping husk now with the same problem, but he’s just a dumbass because he knows this! Reflecing on the original song idea of ‘yeah you’re pathetic but so am I with you’ kinda mentality.}

So I guess we’re correct… {or, as I originally said, OG lyrics BASED ON story context. Obviously idk what S2 is gonna be like lol}

You’re my loser, baby, my loser, goddamn baby you’re my fucked up little whiney bitch, you’re a loser just like me.

*And I would adore it if husk just did a sarcastic scoff and said ‘thanks asshole’*

You’re my screws-loose boozer and only one star reviewser [this line on they would sing it togetherrr]

You’re a {Depending on if the OG song was saying that Husk was also a power bottom and that was his company or if he just generally had company is still unclear to me, so they could hypothetically keep that line or take a spin on it where they joke about, say, husk being a submissive top? I’m just flowing with ideas gosh} [I wouldn’t be able to make a clever rhyme for that joke except for this so why not] >>>>>>

You’re a sub top at/off the highest rooftop, but you’ve got company~* in a more flirty and teasing tone cuz husk was also teasing him a lot in loser, baby* 

I will not explain the joke but it’s pretty self explanatory [The roof is considered either the most empty or luxurious part of a building, it can also be roofs, flying, wings I THOUGHT ABOUT THIS! And off if we want be a lil… dark if we ain’t referring to flying 🤨] 

|Anyways I ain’t no professional songwriter in any way that’s just a little personal dumb line|

And then it would end! Like I said not in a kiss like the more than anything reprise cuz I don’t really want another chaggie parallel? (Not saying the chaggie and huskerdust parallels are bad it’s just parallels between the f/f couple and m/m couple when they’re both very different I don’t want to be many) - 

I think it would be a hug or a soft snuggle or something more simple get intimate like that : P since Angel needs sweet stuff not more ‘sexual’ :/ advancements.

Or this whole thing is pointless cuz the point of the song was Husk telling Angel once and for all that he’s not alone and they wouldn’t need to bring it up again? But we already got the instrumental so there’s slight hope…

Anyways, if we were to get a loser baby reprise that is just my personal idea of what I think would happen! Obviously the second season is already written but if something even remotely similar happens to this I will be happy. Hell maybe I was right on point but it’s highly unlikely haha

Toodles~ |I didn’t write this at 2 am instead of sleeping on a school night cuz I had 2 assignments due whatttt|

[hislaevv]

fav headcanons ๑

note: Fluff until Quaritch and Tsu’teys bit. Neteyam x reader. Jake x Neytiri. Tsu’tey x reader. Quaritch x reader !Na’vi reader. Suggestive content.

Neteyam

Has a habit of plucking items off the ground with his tail. He developed it after seeing Neytiri do the same with Tuks toys.

He scurries around the room with his tail in tow, lashing at things its meaning to grab. Sometimes he’ll even use his tail to grab Tuk after a playdate, it wraps around her forearm as if to say “we have to leave, now” while she begs for another five minutes.

Can we all agree that Neteyam would be an adorable malewife bc this whole “picking up” sht with his tail screams laundry day or general cleaning, and he’s scolding his kids for tossing their loincloths everywhere.

I know he’s a mighty warrior, but at least this headcanon wont get him killed 😊🙏🏼

Jake

He translates sky people songs in Na’vi so he can claim them as his own. Who’s gonna know? Neytiri is under the impression that Jake is secretly a genius composer, whole time bro is plagiarizing Taylor Swift! Neytiri, of course, is wooed and enjoys her mates off-tune singing.

Love Story, Taylor Swift

Stand by me, Ben E. King

Cant take my eyes off of you, Frankie

Fly me to the moon, Frank Sinatra

Each song describes his love for Neytiri, especially Love story. She’s his very own alien princess Juliet.

Tsu’tey, Quaritch

Not the type to stop fucking into you even when you’re both walked in on. Why should he when you’re so tight around him, convulsing after each stroke and begging for more. Whoever the intruder is can take the hint and get the fuck out before he decides to pluck their eyeballs. Once they’ve left he resumes an even more brutal pace until you’re both spent and doubled over in each others cum and sweat.

[wisteriaiswriting]

I have a quick question if you don't mind me asking. Can you please do one where a gender neutral reader is a secret singer? Like they walk on stage and their partner recognizes them even with a costume and makeup. Can I please request Hanzo, Genji, Moira, Lucio, Ramattra, Zenyatta Junker Queen, Junkrat, and Roadhog to be the ones who are the partner who figures out that they're dating a popular singer.

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕕 ℂ𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕪

Words: 476

It’s likely he found one of your costumes while searching for something, so he looks up who wears it.

Lets you confess when you’re ready, not wanting to push you.

When he finds out one of the first things he does is search for your music and start listening to it.

He was already a big fan before he found out who was under the mask.

Will use his ‘connections’ for some free merch. Repaying you in kisses and cuddles, anything you want really.

Please let him try on one of your costumes. It has been a lifelong dream of his ever since he found out about your songs.

She has never been one to care about music or singers, so Sombra will be the one to tell her about it.

While she won’t actively confront you about it she’ll drop hints, quoting lyrics, costumes. Letting you tell her at your own pace.

She’s honestly choosy about her music taste, so if she enjoys it that will be that only thing she’ll listen to

Lúcio is unnaturally quick to notice, finding some quirks and habits that match exactly.

No matter the type of music you sing he will want to collab.

Please let him help you come up with songs and future costumes! He is surprisingly good at fashion sense, he’ll make matching ones.

He’s never been a fan of music, normally complaining about it as he sees no use of it.

Looks into you when other omnics talk about your music. But that doesn’t last long as he notices quickly.

He will confront you about it, but he won’t stop you. Just makes sure you’re safe by sending omnic guards, filling most roles with them.

She will brag, there's no way around it. How the queen of junkertown is dating the most famous singer. (Don’t tell her otherwise please.)

But it’s highly likely another junker will have to tell her as she’s busy with running the town.

She’ll want to make you a costume. Just… don't let her make it, she can help but never let her make one.

When he notices he won’t be able to shut up about it. Everyone will know soon enough.

As much as he wants to help you with show lights please don’t let him, something will happen and go wrong.

He’ll raid many places just to find a radio or something similar, when he does your songs will be played constantly.

 At first he’ll be quiet about it, unsure if you want people to know. If you do, he'll start mentioning it in conversations.

If you need help he’s one of the few people that can help, although some tasks might be difficult to impossible with his hands.

If you have merch he will want some, especially if it’s on the cuter side.

[scrumptiousstuffs]

Hii~ I'll say firstly I'm keeping things strictly speculative and I'm NOT diagnosing anyone since I'm not a doctor.

I've noticed this for so long and just wanted to out this in the world asgdjdjfkf but khaotung gives me MAJOR adult with undiagnosed adhd vibes. The messy car (bottles in the front seat?!), always messy room, extremely creative hobbies and passions (song writing/ composing/singing/ acting), impulsive purchases !!!, frequently getting lost even with maps, engineering major but cant math, has a hard time rmring past events even though he's in the same location (timeblindness). I have ADHD too and I can see such a striking resemblance in me and him it’s crazy. (Ofc everybody presents with stuff like this but when it's excessive that's when you know)

I've watched and rewatched interviews and content enough to see how he tends to be a little spacey and needs to ask things twice to make sense. (People with ADHD struggle usually with too many thoughts, attention going everywhere instead of just the task at hand) And oh when I saw that gifset where he's like he asks first's help to organise his tasks for him my heart just died cz yes!!! (That's troubles with sequencing and work ordering that we folks struggle with and there's his bestie just calmly helping him out oh it made me heart hurt sm but anyway-)

He's my little aloof baby girl with 26739 facial expressions cz he cannot for the life of him calm tf down. He's so reactive and expressive and in the moment, yet he falls over his words (not all the time, yes, but A LOT). My boy is doing his fckin best and has grown so so much and I adore him for that.

His sleep habits??? Classic adhd. Can't fall asleep cz his brain wouldn't stfu. (He said that himself in one radio interview)

His shopping addiction is just him boosting his dopamine every chance he gets. And I get him. So much.

Somewhere he also talked about how he got burnt out and couldn't get out of bed and I just. I just wanted to hug this boy bcz- oh. Oh it all makes sense. (ADHD folks are notorious for burning out cz they already run on little to no fuel. They have to work extra hard for things others do without effort and that gets so goddamn hard)

Manager can’t reach him. Hyper aware of his surroundings (hence attuned and caring to everyone around him). He frequently gets distracted by fans screaming while he's talking (cz of the external stimulus) - and first has spoken on his behalf to not misunderstand him 🥹 (Again bcz ADHD makes your attention go everywhere and you can't regulate that shit)

But why am I even going on about this? There's plenty of people out there who don't have/require a diagnosis bcz they're doing just fine.

YES. YES.

This makes me all the more emotional bcz yes, people, community, friends, family when all of them pick up on your lost pieces life just gets so much bearable.

First is that person for Khaotung 100%.

He literally called First his second manager, he asks First to organise his work for him, answer for him. He looks for him everywhere because he needs him like genuinely, genuinely needs him to be there. (Like that one time he won't let him go off stage bcz he was taking pictures and didn’t want to be alone aahdhajsk)

Like we call First as the one who clings to Khaotung, let's be honest the whole company says it. But when I see Khaotung with First it's like he turns towards him like he's the sun. Pre-FK, in interviews he used to be so shy and struggle at articulating things, but with First taking the reigns he got the space to become better at his own pace and that's what I love about them sm :(

Okay I'm done. I'm just saying he might (again, keyword MIGHT) have ADHD. It's a whole spectrum and having friends around who aren’t judgemental and willing to share the load for you makes life easier and bearable and First is that person for him which just makes me admire and love this pairing even more aaagsfhjdk :((((

So, finally, what do you think about this? Sorry if this is in any way unsettling you don't have to answer it I just wanted to get it out haha

Wow anon, this is certainly a long post😅. You must have thought about it hard.

I have no training to diagnose ADHD. However, I'm glad you identify with Khaotung and sees yourself in him.

That's why most of us love the boys, yeah? In some ways or another, they are relatable and we connect with them. (On top of their kind, sweet nature, amazing acting skills plus beautiful faces of course!!!🥰🥰🥰)

Either way, some of the habits you listed above can easily be considered annoying to a lot of people. Clearly, First just finds everything Khaotung does adorable (but can you blame him? 🥺🥺🥺…look at this pookie!)

They balance each other superbly well. Yin and Yang if you want to call it ☯️

So, I agree with you when you say First is the person for Khaotung (just as Khaotung is for First)

(Khaotung towards First during an interview) ☝️

And you are absolutely right when you say that it's very easy (from the outside) to see First appears to be the "clingier" of the 2, but I suspect privately, Khaotung is just as sticky (he is just not as open about it like First, and I'll be addressing this on a different ask I got).

There is a quote by Walt Whitman (American poet) - "Keep your face towards the sunshine, and shadows will fall behind you."

And so, your statement of Khaotung looking at First like he is the sun, oh yes... he does it all the time!! (be it in official photoshoot, concerts or events)

[tough-n-dumb]

lullabies

this ficlet is shamelessly inspired by the ending of No Reason to Be Afraid by @insignificant457 because i couldn't get inej wishing kaz a goodnight out of my head. thank you for writing this beautiful pre-canon fic—all credit goes to you!

“Goodnight,” she calls after him, then winces. Goodnight? You’ve just joined a gang, Inej, have a little dignity. He pauses, already halfway out of view, then leans back to look around the doorframe, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “Goodnight,” he says stiffly. She gives him a weak smile, which he registers before leaving without further comment.

Read below or read on AO3

It becomes a habit; a nightly routine. A goodnight, Kaz her closing remarks of most evenings—or sometimes in the dark and early hours of the morning, depending on the day. More often than not, he’ll murmur it back. If he doesn’t, she’ll give him a little tsk and a hushed, chiding manners before slipping out the window. 

They spend more time together than she thought they would—probably more than he thought as well. But after jobs, she begins to linger, the windowsill in his attic rooms now her designated perch. From it, she can watch both him and the city like the spy he’s crafting her into. She likes to dangle her feet into the cool air and observe the stars that burst through Ketterdam’s cloudy sky. They’re in different places in the night sky here than in the Ravkan plains and mountains, but the constellations are familiar. She is so far from home, but the longer she spends in the Slat, in her perch in this dangerous boy’s room, the more the definition of home starts to change (though for her, home has always been other people). 

She sometimes uses variations like sleep well or sweet dreams though she knows he’ll most likely have neither. She tries not to worry about that; tries not to listen to his pacing above her, the way his bed will creak in the middle of the night from him tossing and turning. She can only imagine what he sees when he closes his eyes in the dark. She understands what it’s like to face your demons even in sleep. 

When she uses these softer variations, he’ll often smirk and offer a wry remark in return. Something along the lines of, “What’s next Wraith, you’ll sing me lullabies?”

“Maybe if you ask nicely,” she shoots back. She gets comfortable, teasing him like this, and it pleases her that he doesn’t seem to let anyone else get away with it. 

But what neither of them know—and how could they?—is that years down the line when those same nightmares come knocking she will do just that, lending him the lilting words her parents sang to lull her to sleep whispered into his hair, the rich Suli consonants curling around them in the darkness. Their voices, they find, are one of the best ways to bring each other back from the crumbling ledge of their memories—though they’ve always known to some degree that that was the case. 

One night, she’s reclined on the sill, legs stretched out and head tilted back, the warmth of summer bathing over her even after the sun has set. She yawns and rubs her eyes, and when she opens them, Kaz is staring at her. He clears his throat and looks away, shuffling some papers on his desk in a manner she knows is just for show. 

“Go rest, Inej.” It’s a dismissal, but not an unkind one. Simply a directive. She nods, rubs her eyes once more and sits up all the way, about to wish him a goodnight when—

“Goodnight. Sleep well.” He mumbles it while still staring down at his mess of papers. 

She freezes and lowers her hands, a big smile spreading on her face. 

“What was that?”

“Go to bed, Inej.”

“Oh, no, that’s not what you said.” She is absolutely grinning now, much too pleased that she’s taught her Barrel boy niceties. She thinks his face is slowly turning pink, the tips of his ears bright with color. 

When he finally looks up at her, she feels her chest tighten at the sight. His eyes are so dark they’re nearly black in the room’s low light. The shadows crease his face into hard lines, but yes, there it is—a high blush spreading across his sharp cheeks. 

“Goodnight,” he finally repeats. “And have the sweetest of dreams, darling.” He’s injected a gratuitous amount of sarcasm into the words, but the way his eyes dart over her face—and, she thinks, settle on her lips before he looks back down at his desk—gives him away. 

“Goodnight, Kaz,” she says before slipping into the night. Tonight, she isn’t plagued with her usual nightmares. Tonight, she dreams of a leather-clad hand in hers, warmed by the sun, and sea breeze in her hair.

[puzzled-pegasus]

On the ADHD demigods' stim habits (headcanon list)

Percy

He talks and mutters to himself a lot and he also paces around his cabin

Restless Leg(TM)

He used to chew on things a lot but adults told him that he was Not Allowed to bite pencils or shirt sleeves or paper or anything so his outlet is mostly snacks, chewy candy is the best for this

Someone get him a seashell chewy necklace please

Oh you know what they should have stim toys at the CHB gift shop for all the ADHD kiddos

He also probably cracks his knuckles and joints a lot

He hums when there's a song stuck in his head and it's really annoying but he can't really stop it cause he doesn't notice until someone gets mad at him and then hes like ??

Annabeth

Annabeth tends to chew up her pencils a lot

She also compulsively daydreams and builds designs of buildings in her head and reviews lists of stuff she wants to remember

She finds herself doing random math while she's supposed to be paying attention. Like if someone is telling her something and her brain drifts off more often than not she's looking at something around and being like "let me just calculate how many bricks are probably in that stack over there" or "hmm i wonder how many gallons of water are in the canoe lake"

She also gets distracted if there's any other social interactions of people around her and she just people watches and makes inferences about what people are feeling and whats going on in their lives

Also she chews her hair and sometimes puts little braids in it

She picks at her skin too a lot and sometimes pulls out strands of hair

Piper

Piper flaps her hands a lot especially when she's excited

She flips and braids her hair too

If she has feathers on her she will sometimes take it out if she's bored and either preen it with her fingers or use it to tickle someone to annoy them

She sings a lot but mostly to herself and sometimes she can be heard humming or softly singing without noticing

If she has any kind of paper available, like notebook paper or napkins or maybe candy or gum wrappers, sometimes she'll make little origami things

She also picks at her nails quite a bit

Leo

Leo has the most stims that he's unable to mask, as we know already.

He taps on surfaces and messes with his clothing a lot

He also whistles sometimes which can get annoying to people around him so he tries not to do that but if he's alone or really concentrating on something he will

He will also play with pretty much anything he finds on the ground like paper clips and those office clamp things and he'll take apart mechanical pencils and pens and put them back together and if he finds a tack or a safety pin or something there's a 90 percent chance he'll stab it through the skin of his finger(s)

If he's outside he'll pick up leaves and flowers and shred them or pick up sticks and break them

He was also probably one of those kids who would put glue on his hands so he could peel it off

Jason

i wasnt sure if Jason had ADHD but I looked it up and it said he did so oh well lol

Hes like. Freakily good at masking stims and it kinda creeps everyone out especially the CHB demigods

BUT he still has them

He have the restless leg

He also does like random stretching sometimes

When he's standing in one place for a while he kinda stands on one leg or bounces his heels

Sometimes he'll pick up objects from the ground or something and play with it like Leo does, especially if he's outside and there's like rocks or something

He does a similar thing to Annabeth too but instead of math he'll try to identify any animal noises or animals he sees like birds in the sky or like if he hears a dog bark he'll try to figure out what kind of dog

Hazel

Hazel's stims are the least obvious but they are definitely there.

If she has a view of outside she will gaze out of the window or look around her and figure out how many types of trees or whatever that she can see

She will also mess with the seams or edges of her clothing

If she has paper around she'll draw horses or other animals or sometimes people or she'll practice her cursive letters and make them fancy

She picks at her skin and her hair as well

Frank

Frank does not have ADHD. He sits there quietly and everyone thinks hes weird. Sometimes he gets wiggly if he's nervous but otherwise nah

[lunarduty]

Hello ☺️ Could I request the Risk prompt with Alejandro please? No worries if you’re not up to it. Thank you

𝘽𝙀𝘼𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙋𝙐𝙇𝙎𝙀 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙊 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙀𝙎

☾ alejandro likes to celebrate after a successful mission. | [ RISK ]  for one muse to drive and finger the other who is in the passenger seat.  ALEJANDRO VARGAS X F!READER TAGS | nsfw. smut. female reader. WC | 626 x

after an op is all wrapped up, and it’s time to head back to base, alejandro usually likes to drive back alone with you. not all the time - if a lot of his men are hurt or if shit went sideways or if he needs to discuss things with rudy. but it’s happened enough times where most of the guys know that you drive back with alejandro, and therefore don’t offer up a seat in their trucks.

they figure it’s because their colonel is just protective of you. likes to keep you close. just wants a brief moment of PEACE after the chaos of a hard fight. and they aren’t wrong, but alejandro always has ulterior motives for his actions. before getting back to base to celebrate with his men, he likes to celebrate with you.

it always starts with a hand on your thigh as alejandro sings your praises. calls you his tough girl. recounts your accomplishments on the op while his hand squeezes your thigh all the way up to the waistband of your pants. he’s gotten really good at undoing your belt with just one hand. always grinning when he gets the top button open as if he’d just won a carnival game. glancing over to you as he drives and staring for a moment too long before you’re scolding him to watch the road.

but how can he not watch that pretty fucking face as his fingers wedge down the front of your pants? how can he ignore the look you get when his fingers start their DESCENT - an addicting combination of impatience and eagerness? riding the same aftershocks of adrenaline that alejandro is. and though his eyes turn back to the road, at least he can hear your little gasp when the pads of his fingers find your clit. a breathy, shortened version of his name as he pushes three fingers through the folds of your cunt to spread out all that fucking wetness and he’s half-tempted to pull his hand out to taste it.

alejandro’s favorite part is the teasing moments before he pushes even a single finger inside you. when you’re desperate for him and he’s holding it just out of reach so you start grinding your hips up against the palm of his hand and he just lets you. allows you the freedom of fucking up against him because you did amazing today and you deserve to do whatever makes you feel good.

but he eventually does sink a finger in - quickly, unceremoniously, and without warning because he loves hearing the little whimper of surprise from you. while driving, alejandro can only do so much. he adds another finger, curls them, lets you thrust against his hand, but has to leave his special little tricks for the brief moments when the trucks stop and he can spend even a few seconds pumping his fingers at a pace that makes you grip his forearm with a moan of his name.

“c’mon, princesa. you like to ride my hand, yeah? want me to make you cum all around my fingers? right here in the truck where anyone can see? very dirty, my tough girl. need to stop INDULGING you so much.”

it’s a bluff, though. if anything, you’re the one who indulges his dirty habits. he just loves finger fucking you on the way back. loves it when you cum and your voice is just a little hoarse from yelling during the mission so the moan is just slightly scratchy. loves having drinks with his men later with the faint smell of you still lingering on his hand. loves catching your eye from across the room and knowing you’ll be returning the favor tonight in the privacy of your home.

[dudedudesworld]

NSFW HEAD CANNONS (I tried to be gender neutral but it might sound like reader has a penis

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act): She is very caring. Holding you tight and doing nothing but singing praises of the night of passion shared between the two of you. She smothers you with kisses, her hands hovering and touching any part of your body they can reach.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers) Elphelt tends to love everything about her body but if she had to pick something she really liked it would be her thighs. For her partner it would have to their eyes. She heard from a movie that a person's eyes could never lie, so if you simply gave her a gaze filled with love her heart would just explode and she would be left a blushing squealing mess.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it) at first she was a little bit confused about what to do but now she doesn’t mind where it lands or what you would like her to do with it, just make sure it doesn’t get in her hair.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory): Having her partner be more in control. This doesn’t mean she likes to be dominated in a sense but it's more because of how much trust she could have in her lover. Being able to just let go and have someone else care for her it's simply a dream come true for her.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing) her only sexual experience comes from bad smut books and porn. So expect her to do a lot of cringy things the first time, but it's nothing some research and teamwork can't fix.

F= Favorite position: the lotus position. Being able to be held while making love is something she very much treasures. She would be very open to anything you wanted.

G= Goofy (how serious are they) she's a perfect mix of goofy and loving. There's time where she falls over and brings you down with her but she’s simply too into it to really care and shrugs it off with a laugh.

H= Hair (grooming habits) she shaves regularly and even has her pubic hair in the shape of a heart.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty) She's very romantic (obviously). There's no denying anything to do with the bedroom would be anything short of romantic. From a trail of roses leading towards the bed or romantic foreplay beforehand even in the heat of passion she's still a romantic at heart.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often) She used to in her past time but with you around she doesn’t find a reason to.

K= Kink (kinks what they like, possibly unusual) She’s very open to trying new stuff but something new she’s taken a liking to would be anal. She wants to be loved in any way possible and this was just another way to love her.

L= Location (where they like to get it on) She likes to keep it in the bedroom. It's comfortable, nice and romantic. She likes to stay there and wake up by your side.

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons) Having her partner be outwardly romantic towards her is her biggest turn on but to be honest she likes anything to do with her partner whether it's you simply being shirtless or saying something smart or witty. She loves you in your entirety.

N= No (turn offs or absolutely won’t do): Don't hurt her or be cruel towards her, not in general or the bedroom. Even if it's a role play her feelings can still be hurt and she's an emotional person so pushing the wrong buttons can and will make her cry, but she also knows her own worth and will put her foot down if you go too far.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are) at first she wasn’t very good with giving oral, it took practice for her to get used to it but she finds the act itself to be very pleasurable and loves to see your facial expressions change as she works her magic. She does definitely love having you go down on her especially if you open up the night by going down on her.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed) depending on her mood and how horny she is she either lasts the entire night and leaves you both tired or gets off very quickly. Depends on how you handle her during foreplay

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard) she prefers having longer sessions at night in the comfort of the bedroom but there are times when she simply can't hold herself away from you and wants to have some quick fun.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things) she likes testing her limits and trying new things out with you. But for the most part it would have to be you recommending the more spicy stuff as she would usually stay around vanilla.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts) she has a lot of stamina thanks to being a valentine but still finds herself tuckered out by the end of the session.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers) She does start branching out and getting more interested in ways to spice up the bedroom life. She would totally wear a trench coat with sunglasses and a mask when entering a sex shop just to not get recognised only to be too flustered with everything in there and would just try to order online.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves) She’s more mischievous than teasing, doing things to get you going but in a more cute way that ends up being just as effective.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk) loud, everything from her moans to her whimpers sometimes she tries to be quiet but it's simply impossible for her. Do expect her to say romantic stuff such as a lots of small “I love you” being whispered in your ear.

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort) She sometimes just jumps you. You could be sitting down on a chair reading a book and all of the sudden she's entered the room sitting on your lap making out with you like her life depends on it.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants) vagina

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level) High. She wants to be with you constantly and sex is just another way of deepening your love that she enjoys.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after) she falls asleep after the act but usually while holding you mumbling something along the lines of “I love you”

[ups3tti]

hiiii do you have any sandstorm hcs or any cole or morro hcs in general ilove your posts abt tjem

OH DO I. thank you I'm glad you like the posts! And thanks for the ask!

- my age headcanon for Morro (when he died) usually falls in the 17-19 range, aka the worst time to be alive, aka the worst time to die because you're stuck with all the emotion and none of the rationality. Shithead teenager.

- Morro used to sing. Not for fun, just because it strengthened his lungs and his connection to airflow. This was a habit encouraged by Wu. He does not like to sing as a ghost because it's unnerving to hear sound but not feel air, and he doesn't like the strange echoey quality.

- if Morro were to have an opportunity to develop his own style it would be like. goth in spirit(ha). Practical goth. Doesn't like restricted movement and doesn't have the money or care to drop on a curated vibe, just likes darker clothing around those vibes and does makeup when he feels like it.

- doesn't like sugar in tea, coffee, any of that. Doesn't like sweet stuff much.

- the grey gi we see him in during the flashbacks was meant to be his gi colour, even if the other kids were wearing similar. It's like how Cole stuck with black as his gi colour even though that was technically their training gis.

- mandatory sexuality hc: doesn't use labels/care to figure out labels. Bigger fish to fry. In my head he's on the aroace spectrum though.

- mandatory gender hc: again, not that he would necessarily know this lmao, but agender

- any piercings he has he does himself like an idiot

- adrenaline junkie

OKAY SANDSTORM TIME.

- Morro's had such intensity to his entire life, so I think the little gentler aspects of affection/romance would get him a lot, even if he takes a while being comfortable showing it. In tandem, Cole is casually physically affectionate :]

- Morro would prefer Coles cooking even if everyone else supposedly dislikes it because it was most of the first foods he got acquainted with after reviving. Kind of like a safe-food situation.

- although Morros self-reliance can be too intense/isolating sometimes, as a base trait it's actually something Cole respects/appreciates considering the amount of responsibility Cole tends to take on in regards to his team relying on him so much. It's a nice change of pace.

- Morro says stupidly concerning shit with the most casual tone and doesn't realize it's concerning until Coles giving him a certain sympathy/concern look. Cole begins to simply not giving him that look/just promp him to keep talking, because indicating that Morro was just accidentally vulnerable that way sends him right back into his shell, and Cole wants him to talk about stuff like that.

- late-as-fuck long talks about nothing and everything.

- INSANE duo in combat.

Unfortunately Cole specifically as a character is not my forte no matter how cool I think he is but I hope my Morro and sandstorm stuff is good :]

[devildom-moss]

Roses for You (15)

This had all started when you noticed a link between a book on the language of flowers you had borrowed from Satan’s room and the current lessons from your Seductive Speechcraft and Magical Potions classes.

In Seductive Speechcraft, you had just reached a section on the effectiveness of spells using non-verbal communication: enchanting glances, dance, and offerings. Meanwhile, in Magical Potions, the professor had been discussing the significance of using specific quantities when concocting potions; they had spent fifteen minutes just providing examples – including adding petals from two different flowers when using them for a love spell.

You couldn’t resist discussing the use of flower language – utilizing the type, color, and quantity of the flowers – to specify the magical intent of an offering as a form of seductive speechcraft. Asmo and Solomon listened intently. The same idea popped into both of their minds, and before you knew it, everyone was looking into color and number meanings, searching for the perfect combination to convey their feelings for you and try to put you under their spell. The only rule for their little competition to charm you? Only roses are allowed.

Will you be charmed by their attempts?

Fifteen Roses - Mephistopheles

Word Count: +1,100

I'm so sorry / Forgive me

You received an unexpected text from Mephisto last night extending an invitation to his home this afternoon. It was rare for him to ask you over – not that you were complaining. The last time he was kind enough to request your presence, you had a wonderful time. You also drank one of the best bottles of Demonus you had ever tried. It was an exciting offer, and you could barely contain your joy as you got ready to leave.

Solomon caught you before you headed out the door. “You’re looking cute. Did we have a date planned that I’m forgetting about?”

“No, sorry Solomon. I’m visiting Mephisto today. He asked me to come over.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know. I’m not going to ruin an invite from Mephisto by asking questions.”

“Do you know when you’ll be back?”

“Afraid not.” You pat Solomon’s cheek playfully. “You’ll be okay until I get back, right? There are leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry. If you try to cook while I’m gone, I won’t come home for two days, got it?”

“Yes, yes. I’ll keep myself entertained outside of the kitchen – all by myself. Maybe I’ll finish up that bottle of bourbon we got the last time we were in the human world.”

“Drink responsibly, please.” You shook your head and double checked that you had your D.D.D., wallet, and house keys.

“Well,” Solomon sighed, “if you’re going to leave me all alone for Mephisto, at least put in a good word for me about forging a pact. He keeps giving me the slip.”

You intentionally ignored him and headed out, offering him a sing-song goodbye as you locked the door behind you.

When you arrived at Mephisto’s home, he was quick to answer the door – almost as if he had been eagerly awaiting your arrival. Mephisto stared at you for a second, appraising you, before he stepped aside and motioned for you to enter.

“Nice of you to make it. Although, I’m surprised you didn’t already have plans.” Mephisto led you through a long, extravagant hallway – one which you knew led to his private sitting room.

“I don’t fill my schedule up with dates, you know? That would be exhausting. Still, even if I had plans, I might have been willing to cancel for you, Mephisto,” you admitted.

Mephisto was grateful that his pace had set him a few steps ahead of you. He would be mortified if you caught the flash of a smile and the blush that painted his cheeks. You had an awful habit of flustering him, and although he had grown more receptive to your flirting, it hurt his pride to be so charmed by you.

Gathering himself and trying to cool his burning face, Mephisto forced out an arrogant huff. “Of course, you would. The invitation itself is an honor.”

“Do you send all of your honorable invites over a text?” You teased, affectionately mocking his attempt to maintain decorum. What was so wrong with wanting to casually spend time with you?  

Mephisto remained silent until he reached the double doors that separated the hall from the sitting room. He cleared his throat and added, “I should mention, I prepared a small gift for you.”

With that, Mephisto opened the doors and ushered you inside. The only noticeable potential present was a vase of roses on the coffee table. You pointed to them wordlessly, and Mephisto responded with a quick nod, causing you to break into a grin. It should have been obvious that Mephisto’s pride and competitive nature would encourage him to join in once he heard what everyone was up to, but he was the last person you expected roses from. His tsundere performance had always been the best.

You got closer, examining the vibrant yellow roses with their deep red tips. The color was mesmerizing – reminiscent of fire, like the one burning in Mephisto’s fireplace, but it lacked the distinctive, overwhelming orange hues. Instinctively, your hand reached out to gently trace the ostentatious display, each soft cluster of petals held firm against your caress. Yellow roses with red tips were the most easily recognizable bi-color combination. He was falling in love with you. Your smile widened.

As you continued to admire the roses, you counted fifteen of them, causing the smile to drop. Fifteen was not a number of roses you wanted to receive – least of all when you weren’t expecting them. You turned to look at Mephisto. The combination of meanings left you confused, and you had all but forgotten the color when you asked him, “Why are you apologizing to me?”

Mephisto brought his knuckles firm against his lips, wondering if he could force himself to say it. He dropped his hand and crossed his arms indignantly. Heat rose in his cheeks. “I’m sorry I was cruel to you before – when we first met and for a while after. You didn’t deserve that. It’s just – you were always hanging out with the brothers. With Lucifer. I was still so hurt and lonely back then – it’s not an excuse, but I thought you were going to make everything worse. But then, you didn’t. I don’t feel so lonely or pushed aside anymore. So, I wanted to apologize for everything I put you through.”

“Oh.” Your eyes softened, and your shoulders slumped. It was written all over Mephisto’s face: none of that had been easy to own up to. You had always understood why he seemed to have thorns, and you never expected an apology for it. His treatment of you had changed so much that you assumed it was all bygone. The fact that Mephisto had been holding onto his guilt for so long carved a deep crack into your heart. To keep it from coming apart that very moment, you walked over to Mephisto and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him so tightly that he let out a small noise – although perhaps it was also from surprise.

Mephisto made no move to hug you back. It was as if he had frozen. The room was still and quiet, save from the low crackling of his fireplace. Maybe the heat from the fire slowly reached him, thawing him out. Maybe your body heat helped, too. With trembling hands, Mephisto raised his arms and wrapped them around your back, pulling you closer until he felt that no one but the future king himself might have the power to pry your bodies apart.

A slow, shaky breath escaped Mephisto. He whispered against your skin, “And I’m sorry I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you sooner.”

You knew he loved you. As everyone else had seemed to do, you pushed him away ever so slightly. That short distance was only maintained long enough for you to stare at the embarrassed, wanting look on Mephisto’s face. You pulled him back to you, crashing your lips against his with a desire you hoped would soothe his need. However, when you parted, panting and flushed, that need had only grown.

Mephisto pressed his forehead to yours and extended another invitation: “Stay the night.”

Lucifer (1) | Mammon (2) | Leviathan (3) | Satan (4) | Asmodeus (5) | Beelzebub (6) | Belphegor (7) | Diavolo (8) | Barbatos (9) | Luke (10) | Simeon (11) | Solomon (12) | Thirteen (13) | Raphael (14)

A/N: And that's a wrap on this mini series. Ending on little taste of resolved angst. I hope you all had fun along the way. If you feel like it, let me know which one(s) were your favorite. Can y'all believe I wrote +13k words this month already? I'm working on the October poll fic now - fingers crossed. Anyway, anticipate that. Requests also open on Halloween (check the request guidelines - found through the pinned masterlist - for more information). Have a good, spooky Halloween~