#sure Bastard is pretty good as a team

[mathematical-apprentice]

nobody in PXG is normal lol

[somnoir]

Gotham's newest Crime Lord - part 4

Part 3 | Masterpost

Danny wasn't expecting for Red Hood to corner him. He would be lying when he says he wasn't panicking. First of all, they had quite literally strung up the bodies of prominent figures of the court of owls in very public places, then proceeded to order Technus to spread information about the court and their wrong doings.

The next step of the plan had been to publish a list of names—members of the court. Rich fruitloops that they were going to rely on the public to destroy. If the public and the GCPD couldn't do it, Danny had his ways to do so. Hauntings usually drove people mad if done a certain way.

But nevermind that!

His heart was practically trying to escape his chest—not that it was beating but it was there, in spirit (ha). He just wanted to see if little Emily and her sister were being fed by their mom and check if he needed to whisk the kids away and have them reside in one of their headquarters. Dan was more than willing to convert one of their facilities into a safehouse for children. Jeremy and some others were the ones who usually dealt with the house—others being parents are older siblings who got into crime for their family's.

"Phantom."

"Hood."

AAAAHH! The hot revenant really was looking for me! Thankfully, none of his siblings were there to witness how Danny was silently punching the air in absolute joy. Fuck yeah! Hot Crime Lord!

"Lemme guess... The big bad bat ain't too happy about the trouble we caused?" Danny chuckled, tilting his head as he narrowed his eyes. Organized crime was much better than his kingly duties, especially when it wasn't him playing the leader. Dan was doing pretty good as a boss, though Danny was reluctant to admit that in honor of his role as a younger brother.

"Sure as hell." Red Hood snorted, "But that ain't why I'm here, ghosty."

Danny rolled his eyes, gesturing for the other man to keep talking.

"You dealt with the court. Wraith led the mission... Personally. Not you. Not anyone else. It was Wraith, right?" Red Hood hummed, his helmet and modulator hiding everything. It frustrated Danny.

The mission was indeed led by Dante himself. But the operation had been split into three. Dan's team (Skulker, Amorpho) taking on the leaders of the court and disposing of them immed. While Danny's team (Wulf and Ember) were tasked to deal with the talons. Meanwhile, Elle's team (Johnny, Kitty, and Shadow) were tasked with saving the kids that weren't turned into Talons. But even then, Dan took full command of the situation.

It had been Dan who personally hung the Judge of the Clocktower and smeared his blood with some rhyme. It had been Dan who took charge of the remaining Talons once their leaders were dead and hung.

But it has been Danny who took the main Talon, dragged their body to Arkham, and painted a message in glowing, neon green paint. Maybe mixed with a bit of Ecto for better effects.

At the moment, all of the living Talons were in another one of their facilities—one outside of Gotham. Dan was a paranoid bastard, rightfully so, and had ordered the rehabilitation of these mindless soldiers outside of the Bats' territory. They didn't need anyone meddling with this. Not when it was Dan's first time choosing rehabilitation over elimination. In truth, these Talons were just innocent kids turned into weapons by the real monsters.

"Yeah, Wraith personally led this one." Danny pressed a hand against his hip, defiantly looking at the brick house that was the Red Hood. God, he almost didn't want a growths spurt if this was their height different. "Heard you've been snoopin' around, Red. What? Didya miss me?" It was teasing, a joke. He didn't expect much from it. He leaned in, grinning even when his mouth couldn't be seen, before pulling back as fast as he could.

But Hood sighed, letting out the hottest quiet laugh he could ever muster and tilted his head. "Yeah... Kinda missed you, ghosty. The kids were lookin' for yah. Emily was screamin' for yah on the roof two days ago."

Danny blinked.

Oh....

OH!

"Sure, sure." He immediately dismissed it, trying his best to make sure that his fast didn't go all purple, because apparently, that's the ghost version of blushing. Shit. "But the big bad Bat ain't too happy with us, yeah? I mean. Stringin' up the Judge and Talon gets you on his naughty list."

"Can't say he's pleased about it."

"Yeah, well, we ain't apologizing for that shit. The court wasn't on our radar before but they took one of our kids. Wraith is known for being one hell of a monster when it comes to kids." Danny scoffed, "They were turning them into weapons, Hood. I'd be okay if you want to throw them into Arkham, but the Judge and Talon? Somethings are more important than morals."

And Danny fucking knows that. He knows that some things should be out above morals, that they should be more important. His parents had failed to do that, failed to put their family above their morals and beliefs. The reveal was never going to be good. Not when Maddie Fenton fell to her knees, unable to accept that her baby died and demanded for him to give her back her son. It had hurt when she couldn't accept that Danny was Phantom and Phantom was Danny.

It got worse when they found out about Dan and Elle. They were hysterical. They stopped eventually. No more hunting, no more trying to protray ghosts as evil. They stopped helping the GIW. But they still couldn't accept it. They just vanished after that, leaving Danny and Jazz with Vlad, who had thankfully redeemed himself.

Danny knows what it meant to put something above your morals. Knows how valuable that is.

He shook his head, once again getting his head out of his heart and turning back to Red Hood. "Get to the point, Hood. You weren't looking for me for no reason."

"Well I've got someone who wants to meet the Wraith. The Court... They were almost involved in the court and was targeted." Red Hood tried to explain, making sure to sound as vague as possible. Danny could—kinda—understand why he was. Keeping someone anonymous until they couldn't. "Was wonderin' if you could set up a meeting. I don't think there's anywhere in Gotham that's basically neutral ground at this point but I'm willin' to bet on an area that you guys won't start a fight."

Danny paused, trying to simplify that damn request in his head. Hood wanted a meeting with Wraith, to introduce someone. And about the location? He was right. The entirety of Gotham was someone's haunt, every part of it was claimed. Even when the people were living, some were so damn liminal that certain areas were basically haunts now. Crime Alley being one of the biggest areas to end up becoming a haunt.

He could only think of three places that could somehow be considered their haunt: The Hill, where their main base was, the Narrows where Dan was trying to take over Arkham to make the security better, and possibly the Docks and Harbor. But there wasn't a solid claim on any of them, except for the Hill. It was one of the poorest and most crime-ridden areas of Gotham. The locals were hostile as hell when they first arrived, but after the Ghosts started cleanin' up the streets, helping people by offering a steady income, and keeping the kids safe, they eventually welcomed the Ghosts with open arms. It helped when Dan started weeding out people that were extorting the area.

That area was a no-go, obviously. Not their base.

"Gimme a second. Gotta ask about this before discussing a location." He whipped out his phone, modified perfectly by their resident technopath, Tucker-fucking-Foley.

D1: Got Hood here.

D2: Ew

D2: I don't wanna hear you moon about your revenant

D1: you're a bitch

D1: fuck you

D1: 🖕🖕🖕

D1: but that's not it

D1: he wants to set up a meeting. Said he'll introduce someone that Court tried recruiting

D2: Bet Vlad's castle that it's Nightwing

D2: he fits the Court's recruits

D1: what??

D1: all of the bats fit the MO

D2: yeah but Nightwing's the most flexible one. Idk

D2: Gut feeling

D2: Tell em I'm willing

D2: only on Sunday tho.

D1: K

"Good news! He's willing to show his ugly mug."

Red Hood snorted.

"Bad news—" and now he stiffened, "Wraith's only available on Sunday. Busy sched, see."

"Alright," Hood sighed, "Where are you guys willing to meet?"

Again, that was a problem. Danny might suggest the Bowery but that was too close to Hood's haunt. It wasn't until he felt the tug in his shadow that he goes stiff, blinking before he saw Hood's shadow move behind him. Instead of a hulking man, it was transforming into a classy looking woman—it reminds him of that lady from Resident Evil. The shadow moved, holding up what seemed to be a cigarette. The blankness of darkness morphed and now there was a white grin spread across her face.

Lady Gotham adored her knights but he was sure Red Hood was her favorite. Danny suspected that the city spirit had a hand in his resurrection—to which he was sure that had paperwork he'd need to process soon. But the city spirit was accommodating and welcomed them into her territory, with the promise that their intentions wouldn't turn malicious and destroy the city.

Danny couldn't help but laugh, eyes glowing green and Hood took a instinctive step back. "Heard you bats and birds got yourselves a cave." He tilted his head. "Gotham Cemetery. It's where you'll find ghosts."

The cemetery. The one area that was a haunt to all the dead and never the living.

Before Red Hood could even say another word, Danny floated of the ground, mockingly saluted the revenant, and phased through the wall.

NAILED IT!

"Lil' wing, I'm not sure about this. Doesn't it sound creepy that they want to meet in the cemetery?"

"I have a theory. I am 90% sure that the Ghosts of Gotham are actual ghosts."

"Why's you say that?"

"I had Tim and Babs help me investigate the other known members. All of them can't be detected by cameras cause the footage gets all fucked up. So we had to resort to teaditional means. Seriously, the demon brat and I had to follow that Johnny and Kitty duo around Gotham just so he could draw them properly! I kid you not, I saw those two phase through other vehicles when they were zoomin' around the streets."

"And?"

"There's a possibility that those two are from Gotham. But get this... All the matches are people who were confirmed to have died decades ago. Like... When B was a teenager."

Dick flinched. Okay. The new rogue organization might actually be made up of legitimate dead people.

"Shit."

"Right back at you."

The cemetery was already in their line of vision. Even if Dick Grayson was the target of the Court, Nightwing came with the package. Meeting Wraith as Nightwing was pretty reasonable if you had to ask him. And Jason had done his best to hunt down Phantom after Bruce forbade them from interacting with any of the ghosts unless they were starting trouble first.

Hopefully, this meeting would go well...

The cemetery is quiet once they start walking. The shadows seemed to be more lively, moving and rising like curious children wanting to catch a glimpse.

"BOO!"

His escrima sticks were already in his hands and Jason was already cocking his gun.

Phantom was floating there, upside down as Lazarus green eyes stared back at them. The obvious echo of laughter making the graveyard more eerie.

"Quit that!" Jason snapped, glowering at Phantom but slowly lowered his guns.

"Awww! C'mon now, Hood. You’re acting like you’ve seen a ghost—but a really good-looking one!" Phantom promptly runs his fingers through his hair, winking at Jason before laughing it off like it was nothing.

"You're horrendous."

"Hey, hey, hey! I'm supernatural and beyond this world!" Phantom proudly declared, clearly on the roll. But Lazarus green eyes fell to Nightwing. The reaction reminded Dick of a curious cat.

"Shit, it really was Nightwing you were talking about. I owe Wraith a hundred bucks now, birdie." Even though his mouth couldn't be seen, Dick was pretty sure that Phantom was pouting. "C'mon, birds. The boss is talking to some ghosts over there."

"So... You're really ghosts?" Jason asks, walking beside the floating ghost while Dick trailed back a couple of steps.

"Kinda? There are different kinds of ghosts, really." Phantom shrugged, going silent again. "We usually help out the other ghosts that can't meddle with the living realm. Lotta ghosts in Gotham with unfinished business."

"What kind of business?" Dick frowned.

Phantom turned to him, mischief in his eyes as he pressed a finger against the place where his lips should be. "Now, now. I ain't tellin' you, birdie. Client confidentiality and all that."

Jason grumbled something unintelligible.

"Now that ain't nice, Hood."

And then Jason grunts in response.

"C'mon, Hood!" The way Phantom whined, Dick was very sure he was pouting. "Tsk, tsk. Stop ghostin' me, wouldya?"

Dick held back a snort. While Jason's glare could be felt through his mask.

"What? That wasn't so bad! Wow... This crowd is dead."

Jason groans and Dick didn't even hide his laugh. Okay, maybe Phantom was pretty okay if you could ignore the fact that his group was pretty homicidal if needed.

"And there he is!" Phantom sounded almost mocking, the tone so strangely familiar to Dick. (Twas the sound of a younger sibling rolling their eyes). "Wraith! Brought the birdies!"

"Seriously?" Jason groaned again but stopped. Dick didn't think he was being unreasonable because holy shit!

Wraith had the same white hair as Phantom with skin paler than the damn moon. But unlike Phantom, the ends of his hair looked like fire. Red eyes instead of green... And built like a brick house, because what the fuck was that?! He was taller than Jason and Bruce! Maybe even standing taller than Superman if he stood a little straighter.

He wore the same monochrome outfit that Phantom wore and a mask that covered his mouth. With round, red tinted glasses over his eyes. Wraith was talking to the air, well, the dead. Dick could see the faint outline of a young woman.

The fucking fridge, Wraith, turned towards them once Phantom called for him.

"You fuckin' twerp, can't you see I'm still talkin'? Rude little shit."

And Dick may have realized something else. Oh. OH! That's why it was so familiar, that behaviour and mocking tone! Fucking shit, were Wraith and Phantom brothers?

Red eyes were soon trained on him. Wraith looked him over once, before humming with a smirk.

"So I was right... Nice to meet you, birdie."

Masterpost

[cheralith]

childhood bestfriend!kaiser who accidentally finds out who you gave your first kiss to after being under the impression you still had it.

sure, you both were reaching an age where most people had already kissed another, been bedded, under-age drank, but kaiser never took you as the type to be so… promiscuous (“your dad was okay with it?” he had asked. “why the hell would i tell my dad about that.” your eye roll had never been louder.)

it was apparently some classmate you had dated briefly back in early high school, a time where you had both were barely able to see each other since kaiser spent some time in jail after being framed and after being bailed out by his manager, spent the majority of his time in his team’s training clubhouse. it didn’t help that it was quite a few towns away from your own, so communication grew weary between you and him during that time.

so when you and him finally reconnected and began to settle down with each other once again at an older age, where you and him were blooming into college, he’s amazed to see how much you had grown during the past few years, how your featured had matured into themselves so elegantly that sometimes, when you weren’t looking, he’d examine each bit of your features to get a proper look.

it was a little difficult attempting to gain a proper stance from him, since all the training at bastard mündchen had clearly done a work on him both good and bad, but when kaiser felt himself relaxing more and more with each frequented interaction with you—he’s brought back to when you were both children and didn’t know any better of the world around you.

so imagine his shock when you accidentally let it slip out that your first kiss went rather wrong as you and him are watching some sort of foreign sports movie where the main character’s long-time love interest finally kisses him.

“god i remember my first kiss,” you say casually, making kaiser snap his neck towards you so fast.

first kiss? you had your first kiss already? before he did???

sure, kaiser had a good amount of fans that flocked to him every chance they got and perhaps he’s done a little bit of entertaining to them, but even so—he still hasn’t necessarily had such a moment shared with another. he never felt like he needed to focus on it… never felt like it was some deed worth prioritizing becoming the best striker… until now.

“huh?” kaiser shuffles in his place and furrows his brows tightly, a vein barely visible from his forehead. “whaddya mean first kiss? with who? when?”

the questions shoot out all at once, you can’t help but laugh at kaiser’s (supposed) curiosity. you suppose the suspense of knowing what happened to that runt he met at eight years old has experienced since his arrest.

“oh, it was just a classmate from one of my sophomore classes,” you wave a hand, as if it was completely nothing to hold much regard to.

kaiser twitched, his eyes flickering towards your ripened lips. “and you gave him your first kiss?”

“probably my last too,” you sigh out wearily, “haven’t really had much people interested in me since then.”

he fell silent, going to scan your face again once more as you fixated your gaze to the tv, circling in on your lips again that give a soft pout. he twitched.

“he got too excited and ended up moreso clashing his mouth on mine—we ended up clacking teeth pretty hard,” you snort out as you stare in quiet amazement at how tender and soft the tv’s couple’s kisses were. “it ended up hurting too much to try and continue.”

you bite your lip, concentrated. “i dunno, i just wish it was more slowly, more… in-the-moment.”

kaiser twitched once more. noticing your wistful gaze at the movie playing in front of you and him. he flickers his eyes toward the intimate scene that you seem so focused on. he pays attention to how the lips of the two characters flow in a certain rhythm and how they meld into each other. they seem loose, relaxed, and that lack of tension made the kiss seem much more romantic.

he thinks back to some of how his teammates greet their girlfriends with kisses, or how he’ll just see a random couple locking lips with each other in the bars his team and him tended to as a celebration of a victorious game. kaiser had never felt a compulsion to experience such a thing, but there’s a strange magnetic feeling he’s getting that tugs him closer to you that is very much not his own rationale’s doing.

he says it with too much confidence. he says it like he’s done it numerous times before, like he’s a master at it, despite never even paying such avid attention to another’s lips until now. so kaiser doesn’t know why, but he suddenly blurts out,

“then let me show you a proper kiss.”

[gor3-hound]

FUCK YOU !! (AND, UH, FUCK HER TOO) — LOGAN HOWLETT + SCOTT SUMMERS

ft. scott summers x f!reader x logan howlett

a/n: deadpool and wolverine full throttled me back into my x-men era... rewatched the first two movies and binge wrote this over the course of three hours... it's pure, shameless smut with slightly gay undertones idk what to tell you... reader is basically in place of jean!!

cw: 18+ content, double penetration, almost cucking, cheating, reader is scott's girlfriend, logan is an asshole, competitive sex?? fighting, clawsTM, biting, marking, mild possessive behavior, p in v, mild scent kink, assholery all round tbh, creampies, threesome. gay crisis for a second x

word count: 2.3k words

Scott is starting to think Logan likes his things way too much. First, it was the way he looked at you when he was first brought to the school, eyes raking over your form. Scott wasn't blind – the visor didn't impair his vision that much. He remembers walking into the room when the both of you were alone. He could sense the tension between the two of you before his presence was even made known to you.

It wasn't until a while later he'd figured out Logan probably smelt him coming. Cocky bastard probably wanted to be caught.

Then, it was his motorcycle. His very own pride and joy. Returned with an empty tank, his keys tossed to him like it was nothing. His eyes narrowed imperceptibly behind his visor as he chucked the keys back to Logan. He barely managed to reign in his irritation.

“You gonna tell me to stay away from your girl?” Scott had told him to do so after that comment, despite having the faith in you that you'd be able to avoid Logan's charms. He was clearly wrong. Logan didn't seem like the type to have much respect, but this was just taking the piss.

“Been meaning to test if these beams could pulverise Adamantium.”

All he gets in reply is a shit eating grin from Logan as he pulls away from the heated kiss Scott had walked in on, his hands still gripping your waist. You really had the audacity to get all wide-eyes and shocked, like you weren't just about to fuck Logan with your ass perched on Scott's bike.

“Shit. Scott, I'm-”

“Sorry?” He cuts off, gaze very clearly still trained on Logan despite the way his shades conceal his line of vision. “Yeah. Save it.”

“Thought I could smell that shitty hair gel.” Logan huffs, bringing his head down to nip and suck at your neck, adding to the wide array of marks he's already left. And you fucking let him, tilting your head back and gasping like it's the best thing you've ever felt. Scott's gonna kill you, then Logan, then quite possibly himself. “How long’s it take you to get that done in the mornin’ anyway, pretty boy?”

“Right. Says the guy with kitty ears?” Scott bites back, taking a few steps towards the both of you. “I'm gonna give you about three seconds to get away from my girl and my bike before we see how good your healing factor really is.”

Logan fucking laughs, kissing his way up your neck and along your jaw so he can whisper into your ear, breath hot against your skin. “Stay put for me, yeah? Shouldn't take long, sweetheart.”

He pushes away from the bike, turning around to face Scott. Cocks his head to the side like a damn dog, rolling his shoulders as his claws shoot out from his knuckles. “Don't make me embarrass you in front of your girl, Cy-clops.”

Scott fucking hates that, hates the way he drags out his name as if it's stupider than Wolverine. Hates everything about Logan, if he's being honest. Hates how easily the man manages to get under his skin every single time.

“You're such a fucking asshole, y'know that?” Scott squares up, trying his best not to hurl a beam directly at Logan with the hopes he'd be able to send him flying through the garage wall. He's meant to be a team player. Level-headed. He's not sure how the older man always reduces him to this.

“That really hurts my feelings, bub. I thought we were a team.” Logan stalks closer, and Scott's vaguely aware you've gotten up, ready to break up a fight that never comes. Claws sink into the drywall beside his head at the same time he hears you tell Logan to ‘stop’. His back hits the wall, and then the asshole leans down, lips brushing his ear just like he had to yours moments prior.

“Y'know, I can smell the changes in your scent when you're pissed, happy... Can also smell it when you're turned on.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply just to tease the man further. “So either you're really into you're girl gettin’ passed around, or you wanna fuck me. Shit, or both. Which is it, pretty boy?”

“I don't want you to fuck my girl, Logan.” Scott grits put. His looks literally can kill, and he's becoming increasingly tempted to prove that to the other man. “And I definitely don't wanna fuck you.”

“C'mere, baby.” Logan coos, gaze flicking to you. He tuts when Scott goes to move, pressing his body against his to prevent him from getting too far. “Ah-ah. Stay there, pretty boy.”

You're at Logan’s side in a second, peering up at him through your lashes like an obedient dog waiting for its next command. Shit makes Scott's blood boil, his body going rigid against the other man's.

“D'you wanna kiss me, sweetheart?” He asks you, cocking his head to the side with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. And you fucking nod, like your boyfriend isn't right there staring at you. “D'you think he wants a kiss from me, too, sweetheart? Think he deserves it? Can't have been treatin’ you right if you came runnin’ to me, huh? Maybe I should teach him?”

“Yeah, think he needs it. He's always so stressed, never wants to do anything.” Now you're airing out your relationship issues? Fucking great. Scott's practically seething now, lips parting to say something – anything – to defend himself.

He doesn't get the chance before Logan's lips crash against his. He tenses up, ready for a fight. His hands come up to push the man away, but fuck he's a good kisser. It's a lot different from a girl – rougher. There's a drag of his stubble, a pleasant burn that comes from it. His teeth sink into Scott's lower lip before tugging, then he's forcing his tongue into his mouth. Scott ends up dragging him closer, eyes fluttering shut as he kisses back.

A growl rises in Scott's throat when he hears you giggle at his reaction, but he doesn't have much time to think on it, ‘cause Logan laughs all breathy and hot into his mouth, and it's making him short circuit. The growl quickly transforms into a low whine, his lips chasing after the other man when he starts to pull back.

His eyes open just in time to watch as Logan grabs you by your hair to pull you into a needy kiss, his free hand grasping at your hip to grind you against his rapidly hardening length. Scott feels his own cock twitching to life at the sight, a breathless ‘fuck’ leaving his lips as he reaches down to palm himself through his jeans. He hasn't been this hard in months – maybe ever. He feels like a horny teenager again, leaking pre-cum steadily into the fabric of his boxers. He isn't sure what to think of it. Humiliating, is what it is.

Logan's lips are on his again, his hands sliding under his shirt, tugging him closer. He feels his cock pressing against the hard ridges of Logan's muscles, feels your own hands join his in exploring Scott's skin, your lips pressing kisses along his neck and jaw.

“Relax, Scott.” You say, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. Relax, yeah. His dick is rubbing against another man's for the first time while his girlfriend is reaching around him to unbutton his jeans, and you want him to relax. This is a totally normal scenario that isn't throwing him head first into an identity crisis.

He gets lost in the hands on his body, the lips against his skin. Before he knows it, the three of you are naked and panting and pressed against each other. Scott feels like he can't breathe properly. His eyes dart between your body, and the fattest dick he's ever seen in his life. He doesn't know if he should be turned on or really, really insecure. His cock answers by jumping against his abdomen and leaving a sticky trail of pre-cum. Traitor.

Logan grunts as he lifts you up almost effortlessly, his arms resting at the back of your knees, using them as makeshift slings to hold you up against his chest, which is flush to your back. He quirks an eyebrow as Scott just stares, unmoving. “Well? You don't need me to tell you where to put your dick, do you? No wonder she's so pent up.”

“Asshole.” Scott says simply in response, stepping towards you. His words lack any real bite – he's too turned on to even think about being pissy. He fists his length leisurely a few times before lining up with your entrance, pushing forward inch by inch until his hips are flush with the backs of your thighs, your legs dangling helplessly at his sides.

You gasp and whine as Logan moves to slide in alongside your boyfriend, nails digging into his skin until Logan is buried to the hilt inside of you. Scott instantly peppers the skin of your neck with kisses, trying to soothe you.

“You alright, baby?” He asks, all soft and sweet. He's forgotten why he was mad at you in the first place, mind foggy with arousal as your cunt clenches around him.

“She's fine, bub. She can take it. Isn't that right, sweet thing.” Another whine, then a nod. It eases Scott, if only slightly, when he feels you relaxing against them. A beat passes, and then another. His eyes meet Logan’s and they both start to move – slowly, at first, before picking up the pace.

You're so much tighter like this, sucking him in desperately as he tries to find a rhythm with Logan. He can barely focus in anything but your heat and the way his cock ruts against Logan's as they both fuck into you. It's almost maddeningly hot, and he's feeling overwhelmingly anxious that he's going to cum in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

Scott leans down, his lips meeting yours as he rocks forward over and over. His lashes flutter as he sucks on your tongue, kissing you greedily. He feels a hand tugging at his hair, pulling him away from you before sharp teeth start to nip at his lower lip, a tongue bullying his way into his mouth. He sucks on Logan's, too, kissing him back just as hungrily as he did to you. He rubs soothing circles into your hips as he picks up the pace, coaxing you into relaxing further.

A growl rumbles Logan's chest when he feels Scott fucking you faster, his hips snapping against the fat of your thighs with more intensity, like he's determined to fuck you better than the other man. He's bigger, tip bullying your cervix with every thrust in a way that makes you tear up. His nose twitches as he smells the saltiness of your tears, then he's pulling away from Scott to lap them off of your face.

“Shhh, shh… you can take it, sweetheart. I know you can.” He coos softly, moving to nuzzle the crook of your neck, nose running along the skin like he's scenting you. Both men continue to slide in and out of your slick heat, grunting and groaning like animals as they chase their release.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” Your boyfriend coos. Scott needs you to cum soon, because he's barely holding on as it is. He doesn't want to leave you unsatisfied – especially now he's very aware Logan will gladly pick up his slack. His hand falls from your hip to make its way between your legs, thumb rubbing circles into your clit until your muscles grow taut. He grins, sucking a possessive mark over one of the hickies Logan had left earlier. Take that, asshole.

Your walls flutter and clench around both cocks as you reach your peak, a shaky moan of Scott's name leaving your lips as your head falls back against Logan's shoulder. Check and mate.

“Hear that, kitty claws? I'm still her favourite.” He huffs out, hands returning to your hips in an almost bruising grip as he ruts helplessly inside your tight heat, balls tightening as his orgasm rapidly approaches.

“S'only ‘cause she's lookin’ at ya, dumbass.” Really, it shouldn't be Logan's gruff, fucked-out tone that drives him over the edge, but it is. He blows his load a second later, forehead dropping against the crook of your neck as he fills you with spurts of hot, white liquid. He gasps against your skin, nails digging into your plush flesh.

Logan isn't far behind, grunting as he forces every inch of his cock deep inside of you, head tipping back as he releases. The tips of his claws threaten to breach the skin of his knuckles, but he manages to suppress them enough that they never fully unsheathe. He pants softly, chest heaving as he thrusts shallowly through his orgasm.

“Fuck.” He hisses, slowly pulling out of you. He lifts you off of Scott's cock, settling you down on the seat of the motorcycle so you can all catch your breath. Logan rubs soothing circles into your back as Scott steps forward, all but slumping against you as he embraces you.

“Did so good, baby. Was perfect.” He breathes out, pressing kisses along your bare shoulder. He pulls back just enough to look at Logan, who's already lighting up a cigar. “The fuck did that even come from?”

That shit-eating grin lights up the older man's face again as he takes a few short draws from the cigar in his mouth. He exhales the smoke, pulling it out of his mouth to speak.

“Trust me, pretty boy. You really don't wanna know.”

[yandereunsolved]

Seer reader: "Today is gonna be totally normal."

Approximately thirty seconds later—

Yandere Aegon: "Which one of us is more likely to marry you?" Deep breath "Is it me or Aemond? Is it me or Aemond?"

—

Yandere Rhaenyra: "It is good to have you here. You will surely aid us in the war."

Seer reader: "H-How did I get all the way back here?"

Yandere Daemon smugly standing in the corner after he kicked a child and stole you back from Team Green.

—

Yandere Criston Cole: "I will protect you with every bone in my body."

Seer reader: "You can't protect me from the horrors."

Yandere TB & TG: "We're the horrors."

—

Yandere Aemond: "Mine."

Seer reader: "I am a bastard, my prince."

Yandere Aemond: "That just means you will have to marry me and have my children to be considered legitimate."

—

Yandere TB & TG: "Whose side are you on?"

Seer reader: "The side of my freedom." Eyes the map and looks at Essos.

—

Yandere Helaena: "You're very pretty."

Seer reader: "Thank you."

Yandere Helaena: "Did you know the copulation process is exceptionally long among ladybugs? It can last more than two hours. Is that how your visions work? Are they induced by your hormones? If my husband were to couple with you, do you think you would end up getting a vision in the middle of it?"

Seer reader: "I—uh."

Yandere Helaena: "If we were to entwine limbs do you think our process would be close to that of a ladybug? We were both given divine gifts. It would make sense if it took that long for us."

Seer reader: whispering "Daemon, Rhaenyra, Jacaerys, save me."

—

Viserys: Gets down on one knee

Seer reader: "Oh my gods, it’s finally happening."

Viserys: Dies.

Seer reader: "The poison kicked in."

—

Yandere Daemon: "Three words. Say them and I'm yours."

Seer reader: "Three words."

Yandere Daemon: "A win is a win. A win is a win."

—

Seer reader: Running around the castle panicked, blind, and with a bloody nose.

Yandere Daemon: "What did you see, my dear?"

Seer reader: "Nobody died. I promise."

Yandere Rhaenyra's mother senses kicking in: "WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!"

—

Yandere Alicent & Yandere Ser Criston worrying over Seer reader and the fact Yandere TB will try to kidnap them again.

Seer reader: "Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve."

Yandere Alicent: "I think you mean cards."

Seer reader, pulling knives out of their sleeves: "No, I do not."

Both yanderes silently questioning how you got those knives.

—

Random noble: "Do you have a spouse?"

Seer reader: "Emotionally, or legally?"

—

Yandere Helaena: "Treat spiders the way you want to be treated."

Seer reader: "Killed without hesitation."

Yandere Helaena: "No!"

—

Seer reader: "What time is it?"

Yandere Aegon: "I don’t know. Scream and we’ll find out."

Seer reader: Screams.

Yandere Criston COLE: "WHO THE FUCK IS HURTING SEER READER AT TWO IN THE MORNING!?"

Yandere Aegon: "It’s 2 am."

—

Seer reader: Looks at draft. "That is way too long."

Author: "I'm making it longer."

[pierregazly]

simply a joke ꨄ lewis hamilton

lewis hamilton x assistant!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), lewis was pining and reader was oblivious [1.6k words]

request: 🌶 I would request for Lewis Hamilton and [20. “I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard.”]

The bill was placed down on the table, the waitress giving you a sympathetic look as she openly asked whether it would be cash or card.

“You don’t mind paying right? I’ll forward you the money, just forgot my wallet of course, such a lapse of memory sometimes,” he said, an arrogant smirk on your blind date’s face while he waited for your response.

Humming in acknowledgement, you muttered that it would be on card to the waitress. 

You didn’t give him much of a chance to say anything further, bidding him a farewell the moment the bill was paid, and a denial to a second date. The shock on his face made your smile grow when you whirled around, making the trek towards your car while you contemplated how your life had even got to this point.

A quick text sent off to the only person you actually wanted to see was met with an easy ‘I’ll leave the door unlocked, see you soon’, prompting you to direct your car in the opposite direction of your own home.

Lewis was always happy to have you over, saying more than once you may as well just move in with him with how often you were there anyways. Always shrugging the comment off, you would just laugh and remind him the two of you see each other enough during the week and that you were pretty sure Mercedes would be unhappy with a driver and his team-assigned assistant living together.

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what they would want, actually? Full access for both of us, love,” Lewis practically had the response memorized, a shove to his shoulder the only answer he ever received to it.

Huffing as you flopped down on the couch next to the Brit, Lewis quirked a questioning eyebrow at you, silently imploring as to what could possibly be creating your current set of emotions.

“I’ve just come back from a date, what an absolute nightmare, Lew. I’ve never met someone who managed to talk about themselves more than that guy. Don’t think I even got a word in,” you complained.

A small chuckle fell from Lewis’ lips, his hand gently patting your knee with a sympathetic expression falling across his face.

“Like… am I the problem, Lew? Be honest, because I’m going insane here, I don’t think I’ve even had sex in months. I genuinely think I’m on the verge of insanity,” you said, practically begging for a response from the Brit.

Huffing, Lewis turned his gaze onto you. Looking you up and down, you felt yourself heat under his gaze. You would never admit it aloud, but you couldn’t deny that the Mercedes driver was borderline gorgeous. 

“I think if all you’re looking for is sex, going on a date in the outfit you’re wearing right now… well it’s not doing you any favours, really.”

Pouting at him, you looked down at your outfit while trying to decipher what was wrong with it.

He continued, “before you start, there’s nothing wrong with the outfit. You look gorgeous, really. But you’ve got the buttons up all the way to the top, the pants aren’t formfitting at all, and you’ve got incredible legs, you just refuse to wear shoes that accentuate them. You’re dressed like you’re going to a business meeting, not like you’re going on a date with the intention of being taken home after.”

He emphasized his words by coming closer, flicking open the top four buttons, allowing the top of your breasts to peak through, the lacy bra you were wearing visible to the open-eye. 

“You don’t get it, Lew. Sure, I could wear a shirt that shows off my breasts, pants that accentuate my ass… but I don’t just want sex. Sure, yes, I want sex… but I want to be taken seriously, I want to be taken on a real date and actually enjoy myself.”

“I could give you both, but you keep denying my offer,” he shrugged his shoulders, turning his attention back towards the television.

Trying to wrap your mind around his words, “You act like your offer is ever serious, Lew. We both know it’s a joke.”

“You’re the one who says it’s a joke and that I’m not being serious. Not sure what else I’m really meant to say that’s going to make you believe me, love,” he said.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. He had been making jokes like this for years. It was easy to assume they were comments he made with everyone, his personality naturally flirtatious.

Your body moved on instinct, pressing yourself closer to him as you contemplated your next words.

“Can I kiss you, then?”

He didn’t give a response before he was pressing his lips to yours, his hand instantly pressing to the back of your neck, tugging you closer to his body. His lips were soft, his tongue wet as it pressed gently at your lips, begging for an entrance. 

A soft moan fell from your mouth when Lewis pulled your body on top of his, your legs encircling his waist. You ground your core against his, a rumble of a groan falling from Lewis’ own lips, his head falling back against the couch behind him.

“God, baby. I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard, about fucking all of them, I swear.”

The whimper that fell from your lips was unintentional, your body subconsciously grinding down against the hardness growing between his legs; the pit in your stomach growing, the desire for him so prevalent in your actions.

You had never realized how much you truly wanted this, how much you wanted those comments you thought to be jokes, to be real.

“That better not be a joke, Lew,” you moaned, his lips pressing to your neck as he guided your hips back and forth over his lap. 

You felt your back hit the couch, Lewis’ body crawling over top of yours as he began kissing down your body. The buttons on your shirt having come undone at some point making it easier for the Brit to continue his ministrations across your skin.

Looking up at you imploringly, his tattoo-covered hand tugged gently at the waistband of your pants, a silent question in his eyes. You nodded eagerly, lifting your hips slightly so he could tug the offending material off.

He lightly nipped at your hip, pressing a kiss to sooth the heated skin before continuing his actions to the other side. Small love bites, kisses, short presses of his tongue to your skin as he continued to move down your body. Lifting a leg to press a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh, you moaned at the action.

It didn’t take long for your panties to join the discarded pants, his eyes hungrily taking in the display. You couldn’t help the self-conscious thoughts, your legs instinctively closing around his body. 

“Nuh-uh, none of that, pretty girl,” he said, his hands pushing your legs open.

A finger gently pressed to your core, parting your lips as he ran a finger through them, collecting the wetness that was seeping from you. A tiny whimper departed your lips as you watched Lewis bring the finger to his mouth, sucking the collected juices from the digit.

It was like watching a man possessed as he got in between your legs, your hands finding their way to his head as the first press of his tongue resonated throughout your body.

There was no surprise that he was skilled with his tongue, the same way he was skilled with his fingers; the same way he was skilled when he put his mind to anything else he desired success in.

His fingers moved in tandem with his tongue, pressing against the spot inside your core that had you practically keening for him, your hips pressing up against his face; the only thing keeping his mouth from drowning in your wetness was the hand he had pressed to your pelvis, pushing you back down against the bed.

A loud moan fell from your lips as Lewis sucked at your clit, a third finger joining the other two inside you, a squelching sound vibrating throughout the living space as you felt yourself hit your peak.

Your orgasm crashed through you, your legs shaking as Lewis’ fingers and tongue slowed down, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. Your head was still thrown back when you heard the sound of more clothes hitting the floor, your eyes peaking open to a view that had your mouth practically watering.

It was common knowledge that Lewis was an incredible sight. From his hardened muscles, to the pops of ink that covered his body, everyone knew he was gorgeous. But his cock? All you wanted to do was wrap your lips around it, which in time, you knew you’d be able to.

But for now? All Lewis wanted to do was press inside you, feel the way your walls pulled him in, the way your wetness coated him, the way you’d stretch so lovely around him.

“On your knees, pretty girl. I wanna’ see this lovely arse when I push inside you for the first time, been thinking about it lots.”

You were quick to do as he demanded, flipping your body over so you were on your knees, resting on your elbows as you felt the couch dip behind you.

A low whimper fell from your lips as you felt him run his length through your wetness, coating his cock in your juices before pressing the tip inside. The stretch was delicious, your body pushing back against his, begging for more.

Obliging, his entire length pushed forward, your lips wrapping around him, the wetness dripping from your core making it easier for him to slide inside.

“Gonna fuck you so good, make you never wanna leave, baby. Can’t wait to feel you cum all over my cock, been wanting to feel that for ages,” he whispered in your ear, biting at the lobe as he pulled away.

Moans and grunts fell from your lips with every thrust of his hips, his body seeking the release he knew yours could give him. The way he made you feel, the feelings his body evoked from yours; it made you insatiable, made you crave the feeling more and more. Made you regret ever believing his comments were simply a joke.

anyways. i got carried away. please enjoy (reader has a hand kink specifically for lewis as i also do sorry!!! bye!!!)

[velvetypoets]

Mister pitch perfect

The perfect Gryffindor golden boy has gone off his rails to catch a Black daughter.

Warnings: James Potter x reader fanfic, James is down bad, I tagged marauders but no peter, Slytherin reader, Black family reader, reader is portrayed as she/her, reader centric, forbidden love trope, SFW, James perspective

havent done this in a while and this will be the first time im posting on this platform. im very sorry if its quite messy!

this was supposed to be a oneshot but i drag it too much. so it'll be some sort of a series oneshot? will also be posted on ao3 soon!

————————————————————————————————————————

It was never meant to be. James Fleamont Potter was basically molted into the perfect specimen of man and every soul who has ever walked Hogwarts knew. Sure he would cause trouble every then and again with his fellow mates. Yet of course, James would always dazzle his way out of it with a few charming smiles or reasonings to squeal his way out of being blamed.

[ part 1|part 2|part 3 ]

He was confident, charismatic, spotless.

And when he meets eyes with you, it was set. James is sitting at his usual spot with the marauders at supper when the moment arrives. You were fixing your necklace to your neck at the Slytherin table, struggling with the clasps as your face scrunches in frustration. James almost walks the whole way over to you and offers his assistance right then and there.

"Stop undressing my cousin with your eyes, Prongs," Sirius brings James back to reality with a slap on the back of his head. He seems to still be having his feast so that was new of him to pick on James in that setting. Remus raises an eyebrow as he stares at the two, "Since when do you care about the other Blacks?"

"That was foul, Pads!" James yell as he rubs his head and glares at his mate, he's used to Sirius playfights but that slap seems to be sincere. He tries to focus on the conversation as he tries to find you again on the table across. You seemed to have moved next to Regulus as he helps you with your necklace. James lets out an involuntary sigh.

"She's different, Moony. She's on the edge too. Pretty sure she's going to find a way to run when she hits 18," Sirius lets out a scowl, "Heard she is to be arranged with Nott. Bloody brilliant that."

"Nott? That Nott? Surely you're joking. That bastard can't even keep his owl alive for a week! How's he going to keep a wife that young?!" Remus exclaims in disbelief. Whipping his head to take a good look at you now that you're a big deal. "I wish I was. I love you but seriously mate, don't. You're big enough trouble yourself," Warns Sirius with his fork right to to James face. A juicy piece of meat dangling right on it.

He bites it though. Sirius lets out a shrieking squeal of, "My meat!", erupting laughter at the Gryffindor table as James chews proudly with a sly smile across his face. The boisterous sound turns a few heads, including yours. Your brows raised at the sudden commotion, only to have the red of your cheeks creep in as you find one of your cousin being the center of it. He watches as you rub your cheeks to hide the tint.

James gulps the meat down. He's quite full himself but he must admit, it's nothing like he has ever had.

——————————————————————————

The next time he sees you, you are sitting by yourself writing in parchments on a patch of grass by the lake. James is in a broom practicing to catch the golden snitch on Hogwarts grounds. Quite foolish but he's gotten bored of the arena and its currently being used by the Hufflepuff team anyways.

He's worried about you sitting all alone in this breeze though. It's quite cold and you don't seem to be wearing enough layers. He keeps a distance near a tree so as not to scare you, although he is quite discontent with seeing just your figure by the lake.

You whipped your head to the skies behind you, "Reggie? Is that you?" You ask calmly, your eyes not missing the shadowy figure blatantly hiding behind a tree, "I saw you from the reflection. Very funny, Regs."

James cracked a smile at your sarcastic tone. He even finds your voice perfect. He fixes himself a little before he reveals himself off the shade and lands in front of you, "So I'll take it you find me quite funny?"

Your eyes widened as you process the man in front of you. Why would James Potter—the Gryffindor golden boy—be here? And why is he talking to you now?

"You're not Reggie." You said still in shock, almost sounding like a question. Your brows are raised as you try to study his demeanor. He's holding his broom awkwardly in his arms, you've always thought James Potter's confident composure was permanent.

"Well if your standards of humour is a certain Regulus Black, I'm sure I'd be comical, love," He cracks a small smile and a hand extended to you, "Potter. James Potter."

You look at James like you're Newt Scamander finding a newfound beast, "I know who you are. Everybody does," You said in disbelief, finding the whole situation suspicious. The breeze of wind moves his curly hair to his face, framing it gracefully, "What I want to know is why are you doing this? We're not exactly fit to be friends."

"Why that's quite bold of you, lovely. Who said I'd like to be friends?" He said as he leans closer. You never noticed it before but his glasses are rather clean today, his hazy eyes look at you with glimmer in them you've never seen on anyone before. You think to yourself if its one of the charisma of being James Potter.

You stood your ground, you would have never thought to ever be face to face with this dazzling man in front of you. You are a Black though, your legs won't give in even if you try, "Well that's settled then. Are you here to pick a fight?" You ask him plainly, crossing your arms upon your chest.

James finds it adorable, he knows full well of his effects on people and especially of course girls. What he doesn't understand is the effect you have on him. "The contrary, darling. I have a proposition for you."

You lift a brow and yet let him continue, "I heard you're in quite the predicament with Nott. Now I know a way to get you out," His claim makes your eyes open, you let him continue. Words dripping in confidence, "A date. With me."

This time, you can't help but let out a laugh–of which James can't help but take in the sight. He's completely enamoured.

'What? Huh– Hold on. You can't be serious," You looked at him as if he had gone mad, the thought of a Black and a Potter dating is out of this world, "I don't know what kind of prank you're up to, but do you seriously think I'll fall for that?"

"Wait, I am serious! Picture this, if Nott knows you're going out with me he'd be livid, enough to break off the arrangement. I mean have you seen the way that scum looks at me? It's like he has this permanent face of eating vomit flavoured Bertie Bott's Beans!" He rants as he joined in on the laughter with you.

You are smiling as the laughter reduces to giggles. As stupid as it is, it has a good chance of actually working. You pondered, there's still one thing on your mind, "What's in it for you? Would I have to do anything?"

James let out a smile, his palms are sweating like he's deep into a Quidditch game, "Well I get to see Nott lose his bride—" He pauses, confronting himself whether to tell you the real truth or not, "I mean I'll also get a beauty on my side."

You roll your eyes at that, "Don't you try to charm me, Potter. Give me the real reason or its off. I have a feeling you need this more than I do,"

She's right, James thought. He was about to play it off if you denied it straight away, he wasn't entirely sure you would actually take him seriously. He grasps the sight of you for a bit before closing his eyes tight, "Okay, how about I tell you the reason in a week— Maybe a month. You don't have to do anything, we'd just go out like normal couples do. Sounds good to you?" He said, he extends his arms to you for a handshake. His thoughts full of prayers to Merlin so you wouldn't notice the tremble in his arm.

You grin the same one James had seen a million times on Sirius's face, the Black's grin of content. You shake his hand firmly, his big ones almost encasing yours, "You've got yourself a deal, Potter."

James is using every atom on his magical being to control his ecstasy as he smiles widely at you. Once the handshake is done he reaches for his scarf over his neck and wears it on you, "Nice doing business with you, sweetcheeks. I do hope you start wearing warmer clothes though. No snogging will be done if you're in Pomfreys care."

She looks good in my color

Well technically so is the color of a quarter of the schools because of course its a Griffyndor scarf.

"You surely don't expect me to go back. To my dorm. Through the halls, the stairs and the common room. With this on?"

Oh I won't regret this one bit, James thought. He chuckles at your words dripped in such a sarcastic tone, "Of course not, darling. Do you think I'm mad?"

He extends his arms for you to hold, "We'll go back together. Through the halls, the stairs, even the common room. I heard you folks have lovely parties there."

You let out a chuckle as you circle your arms around his, "Oh, the best ones. Your Gryffindors ass is so not invited though."

"Well at least I do have a lovely one, don't I?"

"Oh shut it, Potter!"

——————————————————————————

Another storm of commotion is coursing through Hogwarts. A lot has played it off as a mere prank. James grins at the thought of it. He has only you on his mind lately, cherishing the bits of conversation you and him had.

He's on his way to charms class this morning, one that inconveniently does not have you in it, he checked. He checked your schedule last night sneaking through administration with the invisibility cloak.

Moony and Pads by his side as usual. Sirius seems to still haven't caught wind of it, his hair tousled from a good sleep. Apparently he was up all night helping Remus solve a 10k piece magic puzzle.

Won't be long with how loud the students are gossiping though. James let out a coherent sighs. He had an amount of grins with knowing looks from a couple male students and even a pat on the back by a random Slytherin, "Alright, what is going on?" Remus breaks first. Stopping the two boys right before the class door.

James crackles a laugh, "What's going on? Nothing's going on, mate! What?" Moony lets out a drawled scowl on him, one he makes when he pieces that they're in some kind of trouble, "Why is everybody on Hogwarts up your pants then, Prongs?!"

Sirius yawns as he hugs James by the side to lean his head on him, "Yeah... Saw that too even if my eyes were closed the entire walk. You can tell us mate, come on," He does notice the lack of scarf on his mate's neck though, none in this rapidly chilly morning? "Prongsie, where's your scarf? I could really use a pillow here–"

"Oh! Thank Merlin! One second late and I would've thrown this in the bin. Here, take this off me," There you are with James Potter red and yellow scarf on your hands, just coming out the door. All three boys were quite startled, "What? Wait. This isn't your class," said James. His eyes land on the presence of a Slytherin scarf wrapping your neck. James wishes he could take that one instead.

"Yeah... I'm sort of risking being late to Dark Arts for this but I can't take the whispering anymore. I might square the next person who even looks at me!" You told him, your grip on his scarf tightens and James wishes the fabric would stretch upon your nails.

Sirius is well awake now, his bagged eyes darting between you and James as if you're both insane, "Hold–Hold on! What is this? What is happening, Why do you have James's scarf?" He cuts, going between you and James to put a distance and blocks James view. Remus gives James a 'he did warned you, mate' face at the side.

James on the other hand, in too much of a thrill of seeing you this early in the morning, "You could also just admit ya didn't want me to get cold, love. Thanks for the thought there," He said almost shouting as he stands on his tips to try and see you from above Sirius's head.

You let out an annoyed grunt, "Ugh I don't have time for this. Here Siri, give this to that stupid friend of yours. I'd like to keep my Dark Arts seat next to Cissy and Malfoy's been eyeing it like the vulture he is," You throw James's scarf to your cousin's head not caring if it covers his vision, it earns a few chuckles from nearby students. He trashes to take it off and looks at you in betrayal.

You're about to run off to Dark Arts and leave your cousin and his foolish mates when your feet stop and turn you back, "If you still want that date to happen. Expect my owl, Potter. She's a snow named Emerald."

"Oh and it is lovely to meet you, Remus. Do take care of my sod cousin and my idiot boyfriend. Make sure they're out of trouble," You smiled sincerely at Remus, you actually do admire him a little. You love dark arts and your professor rants and rants about Remus's talents.

Remus seems taken aback, but that would make the three of them. You left after he reciprocated your smile and responded with a polite, "You too, (Y/N)."

And as such, you scurried off in a rush to go shoo away Lucius Malfoy from your seat and save Narcissa. Leaving behind a bewildered Remus, an angered Sirius, and a lovestruck James.

James keeps his eyes on you until you turn the corridor, a stupidly huge smile stays on his lips. He turns to find the reality of Sirius's wrath upon him. Remus is quite literally holding back Sirius with his whole body, it's quite an advantageous turn of events that Sirius hasn't had his proper sleep yet.

"Boyfriend! Boyfriend?! When did you even– How is this— Let me go, Moony! He's going to have an earful!"

He definitely will get that earful later. James grins an apologetic smile at Remus as he picks up his scarf that fell to the ground. He could already smell the sweet of your scent from a distance.

Remus lets out a huffed noise, "You really do always get what you want don't you?"

James doesn't reply. He wraps his own scarf on his neck, embracing the warmth it does to his skin. Your scent crashes onto him like tidal waves. A tint of rose blooms on the pale of his cheeks.

He smiles faintly at the open skies over the hall window. He wishes for an owl he hadn't even met for safe travels.

[reiderwriter]

Hello there baby, are your parents bakers? Cause you're a cutie pie lol sorry couldn't resist the urge to flirt with my favorite writer💕How have you been? How was your day? I wish you a wonderful day and a lovely night💕

It's my first time here sending an ask but lately I've been thinking about shy!Spencer x flirty!reader, I just think is such a cute couple.

So if you're taking requests, I was thinking about early seasons Spencer completely falling for the reader and the way she's so flirty but sweet and kind, the way he'd be blushing hard at anything she says and how he'd like the way she's always touching him cause he felt cherised and desired.

It could be fluff or smut or both cause I can picture them going slow with the relationship but Spencer being eager to please her and show how much he loves everything about her.

You said about choosing a emoji, so can I be the 🐇anon?

A/N: Thanks for the request! Shy Spencer is the best because he's so dumb and silly and doesn't realize when people are attracted to him. I've said it before, but he's basically every nerdy main character in 00s romcoms that are "unattractive" because they wear glasses. I hope you enjoy the fic~♡

Warnings: mentions of case details, slight spoilers for upto s5

With a degree in law and a deep-rooted hatred of businessmen, you'd certainly found your calling in one of the FBI White Collar divisions. Putting away the sleazy bastards was easily one of the biggest perks of the job, but every coin had a second side, and yours was you actually had to interact with the cretins before you could take them down. 

You'd dealt with bribes, dinner invites, and sexual propositions more than a time or two, and had to remind yourself that kicking anyone of them clean in the balls was most likely a firing offense, if not legally off the table. 

The man in the case you were currently working - possibly Bill Hodges, possibly Daniel Brady, possibly so many more men - had been a typical white collar freak until he'd moved on to murder. And when you'd been so close to nailing his ass for fraud, too. 

You'd had no choice but to call in whatever unit it was that actually got to put bullets in the bastards, sure that you were going to be strong-armed out of months of work for the glory of taking down a spree killer. 

Instead, you got Spencer Reid, delivered freshly to your desk like a lamb to slaughter. 

“Sorry, you're the agent from the BAU?” You asked, raking your eyes across his body, smiling at his obvious discomfort with the attention. 

“Yes, Doctor Reid. I'm here for more information on the Hodges files.” 

You dusted your skirt off as you stood, moving around the desk to grab the file. You held it out to him but pulled it back when he reached for it.

“I'm sorry, you're really in the BAU?” An embarrassed look fell across his face, and you instantly felt shitty. 

“Do you want to see my credentials?” 

“No, I'm sorry, it's just - I wasn't expecting someone so…pretty?” 

The embarrassed look deepened to a flush, and you brightened at the sight. You weren't lying. He really was pretty, and you hoped your comment hadn't come off as patronizing. 

“You're adorable. Here's the file, I’ll be at your team briefing in half an hour. Spencer, right?” 

He nodded, finally waking up and taking the files as you pushed it against his chest, using the movement to step slightly closer. 

“I'll see you later then,” you trailed your look down, getting a good look at all of him before meeting his eyes again. “Save me a seat?” 

“I should… I'll, uh, go now. Thanks for the-” he stammered, pointing to the file, backing out of your space slowly, like an animal trying not to show its back to a predator. 

Unlike the long line of scumbags filling the halls and case files of your floor, Spencer was without bravado or ego. His lack of both meant that you were interested. You were very interested. 

Half an hour later, you practically sprinted to the 6th floor, bouncing up the stairs to the office where you'd take your meeting like a giddy school girl. 

“Hello, sorry, I'm not late, am I?” You asked, quietly opening the door and letting yourself in. 

“Agent Y/N, no, perfect timing, Penelope was just about to brief us on your case,” Hotch said, rising and giving your hand a firm shake. He looked around to find a seat to usher you into, but you quickly dropped yourself into the seat right beside Spencer Reid, grin deepening as he flushed and offered you an awkward yet endearing smile. 

Unconsciously, you shifted closer, shooting him your own smile before the meeting officially began, and you were forced to keep a straight, serious face. 

The entire case progressed in much the same way, with you doing everything you could to fluster Spencer Reid and him doing everything in his power to convince himself you were being friendly. 

“Spencer, do you have a phone number?” You asked after slipping out of the meeting, trailing him back to his desk. 

“Yeah, we have to keep connected for cases, so I have a phone.” 

“Great. Your number - what is it?” 

He rattled off the digital as you scribbled them down on a notepad. 

“And Hotch's number is-” 

“Oh, I won't need that. Thanks, Spencer.” You said waving as you left to slink back to your desk. You could hear him calling out behind you, confused. 

“Y/N… Y/N, we split up on cases often, if there's an incident and you need to contact us it's better to have all of the team members numbers,” he panted, jogging to catch up with your focused pace. 

“If I need to contact you, I'll take myself to Agent Garcia’s office and use her direct line,” you said, finally stopping yourself at the elevator and pressing the button. 

He caught up, and stopped abruptly next to you. 

“Oh… oh, yeah that's… that's efficient.” 

You stepped onto the elevator when it arrived, leaving Spencer hesitating whether or not to climb in himself, desperately wondering why you'd ask for his number then. 

“Goodbye, Doctor Reid,” you said, pressing the door close button and blowing him a kiss just before the doors blocked you from sight. 

To tell the truth, you'd had a lot of fun flirting with Spencer on the phone from Penelope’s office during the case. The woman was an inspiration, even if her flirting had a completely different purpose and meaning than your own. Her friendship with Derek Morgan was admirable, but you didn't want to be friends with Spencer Reid. 

“Hello, handsome, what can I do for you today?” You asked, picking up the phone and basking in the stammers that answered you down the line. 

“D-Do you need me to get Morgan for you?” He said, his voice treading lightly. 

“Unless Derek Morgan has, overnight, managed to turn into a 6’1 Doctor with a penchant for cardigans and leather satchels and an IQ of 187, then I am absolutely not looking for him. I have case details.” 

He brushed past your comment, but he kept the slight stammer through the conversation, right until you signed off. 

“Until next time, sexy.”

“Um, yeah… thanks…beautiful?” he signed off, and you guffawed in laughter even as Penelope stared wide-eyed in your direction, not believing her ears. 

“Please forgive our little test tube genius. We forgot to add flirting skills to his childhood curriculum, and now, alas, the poor thing doesn't know a damn thing.” 

He'd called back a few hours later, and you'd purred more compliments down the line, but this time with the team surrounding him as they closed in on your unsub. 

“Hello, this is beautiful speaking. How may I help you?” You giggled down the line, picking up the call after only a single ring. 

“Y/N,” he breathed, catching his breath awkwardly as he struggled to remember why it was you were needed. 

“So… um, like… Hotch has a question about the files you sent earlier. He needs Penelope to… do something as well.” 

You could almost see the awkward nod through the phone. 

“Great. Pass me over to Hotch, then, hot stuff.” 

You heard the tell-tale sound of Derek Morgan’s cackle in the background, and you couldn't help but let another giggle slip out. You were a gonner, and, hopefully, so was he. 

The case wrapped quickly after that, spree killing being a quick game of cat and mouse out of necessity. You weren't happy with three bodies, but it sure as hell was preferable to more. 

You greeted the BAU team at the jet hanger as they returned, reclaiming your fraud files for paperwork and using that simple chore as a reason to get close to Spencer again. 

“Good work out there, Doctor Reid.” 

“What, he's not hot stuff anymore now he's in front of you?” Emily Prentiss laughed, throwing her go bag onto her shoulder and trailing behind where you'd started strolling alongside Spencer. 

“Oh, he's still hot stuff. He's just hot stuff with three PhDs that just stopped a spree killer,” you said, sighing dreamily. “How do you do it?” 

“We were all there too, you know,” the other woman chuckled as you made it inside the building and to the elevator. 

“Yeah, well,” you said, taking a second to reach out and straighten out Spencer's skewed tie, smoothing his jacket and generally just touching him in whatever way you could, respectfully. 

You didn't even bother to finish your sentence, just leaning closer to his ears and whispering directly into them. 

“You're very cute when you're flustered, Doctor Reid.” 

You stepped away for a second while the rest of his team teased him, stepping to the back of the elevator to ascend to your floor while the others departed on theirs. 

They filed out one by one and you sent them off with a smile and a wave, signing in defeat as you realized there was no longer a reason for you to interact with the good doctor ever again. 

If you weren't so stupidly aware of him, you'd almost have missed the fact that Spencer didn't leave the elevator when his teammates did. He instead turned to you and, with the brightest red you'd seen on his face to date, stammered out half a sentence. 

“I.. Y/N, I was just… curious, if you, by any chance…” 

Your eyes widened in joy as you anticipated his question, silently begging him just to spit it out. 

“I was wondering, i-if you had… a boyfriend?” By the end of his sentence, even he seemed unsure of whether that was a question he should really be asking. 

You'd been throwing heart eyes at him for says, and he was asking if you were in a committed relationship. 

“No,” you said slightly breathily, as if your body were trying to expel all the anticipation it had stupidly built up. “No, I don't have a boyfriend, Spencer.”

“Great okay,” he smiled, a boyish grin if you'd ever seen one, before backtracking quickly.

“Well not great for you, great for me. Not that you can't be happy alone, I don't know how you feel about…romantic entanglements and I-I-I’m not saying that your life isn't,” he searched for the words with his hands, as of he could grasp them as a life line while he was sinking fast. “-Great without a boyfriend or anything like that, I'm just - really - pleased that position is currently… vacant?” 

“Spencer?” You said, feeling like a cat who got the cream as a smile twitched at your lips, pulling the corners up as you listened to him ramble. 

“Yes?”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend  or are you asking for a friend?” 

You'd meant the words as a joke  but he stood contemplating for a second. You pushed a hand against your mouth to suppress the childish squeal from popping out. 

“It would be a bit presumptuous to shoot straight for boyfriend, right? How about date ....partner?” 

You couldn't stop yourself from closing in on him then, practically cornering him in the elevator as the floors passed you by.

“Presumptuous would be thinking I could have a boyfriend when I've been begging you to stick your tongue down my throat with my eyes for the last half hour. I thought they taught you body language at the BAU?” 

“They teach us how to catch criminals, not how to see when someone is giving us…fuck me eyes, Y/N.” The curse left you a little dizzy - this was it, this was what you'd been trying to do all week, to get under his skin and get him to let his guard down so you could capture him. 

“Doctor Reid, I'm a little scandalized! I didn't know you swore. What a dirty mouth you have.” You reached up with both hands, letting your thumb on his lips before pretending to wipe something away at the corner of his mouth. You were in the perfect position to notice his throat bob as he swallowed.

The elevator pinged at your floor, and you left him behind you with one last swipe of your fingers at his chin. You weren't expecting him to follow, but he did.

“Y/N…please, Y/N…. Can we just…?” You relished the awkwardness in his voice as he trailed you again, a satisfied smile settling onto your face. 

You just kept walking. Or you did until you felt a large hand wrap around your wrist and pull you sideways into the nearest storage cupboard. 

You gasped as he pinned you to the wall, close not, but his eyes still hesitant on what to do next. 

“Spen-” He cut you off with his lips on yours, silencing you before you could get the final word. His lips were clumsy at first, but you felt hot under his touch  arching yourself up into him. His tongue pushed into your mouth as he found his stride, your hands tangling in his hair as you held on for dear life.

This was it. This was what you'd been waiting for. 

Reluctantly, he pulled away, both of you gasping for breath to fill your suddenly empty lungs. 

“Was that….what… you wanted?” He panted, resting his head on yours. 

There were no words. It was what you wanted but now you wanted more, needed more. You settled for a quick nod as your tongue flamed, unable to say anything helpful. 

“Good. Great…” he removed his hands from you and scratched at the back of his neck, putting a more respectful distance between the two of you as he cleared his throat. 

“I'll just-” he pointed to the door and started making his way out. You sighed again, watching him walk away down the hall, his hair a mess, his tie askew, and a whole lot of your lipstick staining his lips. 

Surely, he'd notice by the time anyone else did. If not, you'd just effectively staked your claim on Doctor Spencer Reid, and you couldn't be happier about it.  

[heartfullofleeches]

[18+ Amab Reader, Scummy Reader, Cheating/Cuckold, Internalized Homophobia. Both he/they are used to refer to Reader]

Jock Yan who immediately loses interest in Femboy Cheerleader Darling upon finding out they're a guy. He's still cute and all, sure, but Jock isn't into guys. Jock Yan who while casting longing stares in Darling's direction notices he has a certain....type. People who were partially invisible to the captain of the cheer team become the center of his attention with the slightest mention of a new partner. The same went for Jock's most recent girlfriend who had been on the team for some time prior to their relationship. Darling could hardly be bothered with her outside of practice - now he's inviting her to grab drinks and complimenting her on that new dress she bought to surprise her boyfriend.

Jock Yan who stalks Darling and his girlfriend when they're out together. Something about the way Darling said they were just "going on a little study date" rubbed him the wrong way. He isn't even surprised to see Darling's arm around her waist as they walk out of a theater together. Jealousy and rage tears through his heart, but for some reason.... It's not directed at Darling. He can't stand the guy - can't stop staring at him. So why isn't he over there ripping Darling's head off?

"Heyyyyy, Ry-ry. Need to borrow your girl for a sec. Cheerleader business and all that. That okay with you- Ryan?"

Bastard. Darling doesn't even try to hide it anymore. There's lipstick stains on the corner of his mouth from the last time they snuck off together. Can't even argue that it's his since it doesn't match the shade he wore that morning or one he keeps on his person. The Jock already checked. They have to know that he knows at this point, right? Darling has to see the pain and suffering they're causing the man. Why did they choose her? Was it because she's easy? Accepted rather than deny her desires- A good lay? Jock has heard stories of Darling's escapades. He could take their cock better than she ever could if Darling just picked him...

Wait - That's not what he-... He didn't mean it like that.

Fuck.

Darling is a thought he can't escape. He'd recognize them anywhere. Their laugh. Their scent. The panties he sees them wear in the locker-room, strapped to his girlfriend's waist after a small mix up in the Janitor's closet. He begged her to let him keep them. Claimed he missed her so much when she's gone he just needed a piece of her to keep him sane. He isn't entirely lying when he says it. Just directed at the wrong person.

Jock Yan who calls his girlfriend back to back, praying she picks up by accident so he can hear Darling over the phone like the last time she butt-dialed them. Cheer practice was the excuse Darling gave for the strain in their voice when they snatched her phone to say hi. If Jock wasn't enthralled by how Darling's voice sounds post physical activity, he might have a thing or two to say about them being at his girl's house after 10 o'clock at night.

If there's one thing Jock won't allow Darling to do in his presence it's kissing her. Darling gets bolder over time, but kissing is where he draws the line. In another world, Darling's lips are his. In a perfect one all of Reader belongs to him. Even kisses on the cheek are enough to tick him off. That should be him - not her.

"What are they like?"

"Hm? Who, babe?"

"Y/n. The captain of your team?"

"Oh!....oh... They're great! We've actually been hanging out a lot recently. We've got a competition coming up pretty soon - why do you ask?"

Not good enough. That isn't what he wants to know. He wants to know what Darling is like - what they taste and feel like. What it's like to have their arms around him. To have them inside him. He wants everything from Darling and more.

And doesn't know how much longer without them he can take.

[takes1]

ah, hello kuroken anon again here!!! :> I LOVED LOVED LOOVEDDDD THE PART 2 HAHAGWGSH SOO EXCITED TO SEE HOW IT’LL END!!!! AND MASTERMIND KENMA??? YOU. GET. IT. YOUUU FUCKING GET ITTTT. IM SO CRAZY THATS LITERALLY HOW I THINK HE’D BE IN BED AJAKSIFIRKRJ. thats the team’s brain right there!!!! cant wait to reread this story over and over <3333

thank you again for sparing some time to write even when youre busy with your education, i’m also busy with my education related stuff so you posting your writing at this time is really helping me to keep me going 🫶 good luck to u!!! ^^

[final] kenma sharing you with kuroo

you're a gem and i will sorely miss hearing from you after this part is posted. fuuuuck you made me cry a lil bit 🤏not even kidding omg. i'm genuinely so glad the characterization got through 😫💕and that i could help you in any capacity loves.

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / porn with plot / threesome / angst, fluff, and smut / jealous?kuroo / secure!kenma / submissive(with conditions)!reader / praisewhore!reader / use of toys / m!rec oral / riding / kuroo working through his emotions / mastermind!kenma / poly!conversations / happy!cuck'd kenma / fluid pecking order / 3k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. part one here. part two.

"Good," A little drive-by peck to your temple and Kenma was off the bed, grabbing some water.

"I need a break."

Kuroo filled the space he left verbally and physically-- a starved scan of your body, trembling already, on top of him. His head swiveled from you to Kenma's cute butt. He couldn't keep his hand off of his own cock to save his life, so it didn't surprise you that he stroked himself and checked your boyfriend out at the same time. If you had one, you'd do the same.

"You lazy fuckin' bastard..."

They shared a laugh.

He let the chuckle die for a second, more of a yearning as he looked at you again, "You sure it's alright with you, man?"

You realized you couldn't stop your hands from shaking. You really wanted him.

You both looked at Kenma, who put his hands up, more annoyed that the question kept cropping up, "Promise. I'm fine, I just got- kinda close."

You were brimming with pride at that truthful statement, hips automatically rolled against Kuroo's cock. He could play the role well, but it wasn't natural. Neither was his pace or his intensity, so it made sense that he was forced to sacrifice his already shitty stamina.

Kenma liked slow, smother-y, whiny, missionary stuff that went on for a couple rounds and ended in you both passed out in your own slippery mess. This was all a little pornographic, performative, for a neutral observer.

"F-uck," He groaned, face tense at how well you took him.

He couldn't believe neither of you made him wear a condom. He never fucked raw, and never imagined he would have the chance to get with you. This was too perfect.

Kuroo was on the thicker side, and leaned hard to the left. Two features you weren't accustomed to, but instantly learned to love. He stretched your cunt out so easy- leaving you at a shallow gasp, as he wasted no time to show you how much he had been craving you over the past year.

That pretty, occupied, shock was exactly what he wanted to see.

He grinned, a possessive grip around your throat, "That's what you wanted, huh?"

His lip curled, twitched. He bottomed out and rolled his hips the way Kenma had, earlier.

"You wanted me?"

You squeaked at his premature intensity- nails digging into his shoulders. He squeezed you to prompt an answer.

A whimpery, "Yeah."

Kuroo was different when he let himself talk to you like this, like it was just you two. It felt like he was finally being honest.

It was apparent that he wanted you close, intimately so, and not posed up for Kenma. He was still sipping his water, watching, as if he was hanging out on the bench during a game.

Kuroo fucked you slower, nicer, after he hearing your pitiful sob of an answer.

His thumb rubbed slow, a nearly imperceivable circle in your hip, as he searched your eyes.

"Why didn't ya tell me?" Was so quiet. It made your heart squeeze.

He felt too good, pumping in and out of you so easy, filling you over and over again like it was nothing.

His voice was ever softer, as you were rewiring your brain to make room for a singular thought.

"You hear me, pretty girl?"

You softened at his endless list of nicknames for you- all so methodical and sweet, like he had always thought of you as his baby, his doll, his pretty girl.

"Mhm," Got muffled against his fervent kisses.

It would have to go unanswered. You realized at some point you didn't have a satisfying response for him; even if you did before, you couldn't do his questions any justice, now.

He was like Kenma when he got close. He grew huffy, and leagues worse at kissing. His little taunts were incomprehensible, but the nature of his mumbly, dirty words was enough to get you close and considering the possibility of a future arrangement here.

The idea had you pushing out of his weakened grip, looking towards Kenma. Adoration had filled his features even before he caught you looking at him, evidence that he had nothing to hide.

He came closer to kiss you.

Kuroo allowed you to you lean close to Kenma's ear, amused when you covered your whisper up with your palm, so he had no chance of hearing.

"Let me suck you off again," Was your request.

Kenma stepped back, face too hesitant for your liking. He shook his head, undecided, with a long and quiet hum.

"Please," Your hand fell from his shoulder as he stroked himself, just to see if he could last for it.

You had to beg a few more times, real sweet, real pretty, for him to decide that finishing first wasn't all so bad. It clearly wasn't an original part of his plan, but he couldn't tell you no; not with you all fucked out, waiting for more, on top of his best friend.

"Ohh my god," Kuroo groaned, forcing you still, as he pieced together why Kenma climbed back up, on his knees, at his side.

Your dirty little smile only broke to press a kiss to the tip of Kenma's cock.

"Oh my g-od..." He repeated himself, voice breaking this time.

It was easier from this position, than the one you had been in earlier- the whole reason any of this was playing out now.

The way your tongue stretched out, the hollow in your cheeks, how fucking easy you made it look, and most of all, your pretty little stare up at him was all too perfect. Kuroo didn't blush often, but this was a true surprise, and a moment worthy of the red on his face, now.

He wasn't going to last long, from the start, but this was overload. You had gotten comfortable with him long before he was ever in the picture- knowing exactly how Kenma liked it, what got him closest, the fastest. He didn't make the connection before now, but that's what Kenma had shown earlier, too.

Kenma was huffy, a bit higher in tone, "She got me off the game- ah-h, like-- this,"

One hand was still, twitchy, at his side- one kept your hair back, but didn't control you. His abs flexed, uneven.

"Fuckin' knew it," Kuroo gave a tired, very distracted chuckle.

His shoulders would stoop hard to the side with a big, struggled sigh when you'd take him deeper. You brought out a more submissive side of Kenma. It was a welcome sight.

Kuroo had to let you go to rub the ache from his temples. In the absence of his hands, you rolled your hips. You didn't want to just be a cock warmer-- you wanted him to fuck you. So far, Kenma had been rougher, and that didn't meet your expectations at all.

He seethed, and kept you still again with a shuddery sound, "Don't- don't move."

You came back up, popping Kenma out of your mouth, stroking him quickly as you gave Kuroo a mean stare.

"Relaaax, babygirl, I just need a second--,"

You frowned. So they both couldn't last? You took your frustration out on Kenma- twitching, gasping, at your lubed palm making an embarrassingly quick work of his endurance. He was really cute when he was about to cum.

"Babe- fuck- I'm-- I-h- Ah!," He stuttered, his panting growing quicker, the tension across his body now locked.

He let you to decide what you wanted. You could feel him tense as you kept your tongue laid flat, swirled in little circles on the underside of the tip, as you pumped the rest of his length.

"Mm-h, fuc-k--"

"Aah, ah-hh-!"

Kuroo had to scratch little divots into his palm to keep himself sobered enough. He watched along in awe as you swallowed, hardly any labor on your brow. You looked at him the whole time, this impossible innocence in your steady gaze.

Kenma was a work of art, his mouth parted, lips wet with drool, his brow tense at how you kept sucking at his sensitive tip. He adored you. There was no hope for Kuroo to replace that, going either way.

"Oka-y, okay," Kenma pulled you off with a shuddery sigh.

He muttered, "I love you s'much," against your scalp as you licked your fingers clean. After stealing a kiss, he sat back on his heels, a hand rested on Kuroo's shoulder.

There was a sorry lack of quips from him. He wasn't being a smartass anymore, or even funny. He was acting a little dull, like Kenma after a couple rounds. You tilted your head down at him, analyzing what the hell happened.

He returned it, his intense, deep eyes cutting right through you.

You softened your expression. Maybe he was still in there.

"He won't move," You pouted to Kenma, as if he could possibly do something about it.

He covered his snicker with his hand- Kuroo rolled his eyes but got cut short when you tried to move your hips up and back down. His nails dug so hard into you that you gave a small whimper- trying to pry his hands away, unsuccessfully.

"If she doesn't stop doing that, I'm gonna fuckin' cum," In a similar fashion to you, he looked at Kenma, like he could fix it, "I'm so serious, bro- it's not even funny."

Kenma gave a loaded sigh. He did look like he was thinking for a solution.

Kuroo had your face in his big hand, warning you, to be still. You liked the sound of him cumming inside you, and how he was barely holding himself together, so you only met his harshness with a small, maniacal smile.

After rifling through the sheets, Kenma found your favorite vibrator and wiggled it with pride in front of Kuroo. He didn't disappoint; he truly had a solution for everything.

"Dunno how I forgot about this," He muttered, clicking through the settings to the only one you actually used.

As he took the time to do this, you clocked that he was still half-hard, even after two orgasms, and felt some butterflies in your tummy. He glanced your bodies over with a little smirk.

He kissed right behind your ear, "Let's try leveling the playing field, yeah?"

It was easy to act all big and bad when they were both closer than you. Once they had you on your back, completely honed in on just your body, your short-lived confidence was shaken.

In a similar, reverse fashion, Kuroo was back to his original state: an irritating tease.

He was eager to listen to and watch Kenma as he cuddled up to your side.

"We usually don't go for this long-," He admitted, making him smirk.

He took one leg hostage to spread you before pressing your vibrator up to your clit.

"A-hh-ah-!" You twitched, under all the sudden pleasure.

"But you're getting spoiled today, huh?" Your partner chuckled, a little kiss to your temple.

This may have been one of the few times Kuroo didn't keep his cock in his hand. The whole point was to get him further away from a climax, after all.

He used that effort to take your opposite side, in an almost identical orientation as Kenma. Your other leg was relieved of its fatigue once Kuroo wouldn't let it go.

If he focused too hard at the delicious tension in your face, or the way Kenma had to keep you forcefully still, he had to look away for twice as long with a big, calming sigh.

"She is such a pretty thing," He muttered, during one of these moments.

"Sooo pretty," Kenma agreed. He watched Kuroo's affliction, how it seemed more than just physical.

Another little peck to your sweaty temple, as you squirmed and flexed, panting, under their weight and pulling, "You should tell Kuro how much you want him."

They couldn't let you rest. It was psychological torture paired with the most a dizzying turn of events you hadn't prepared for.

It was, all things considered, a simple task.

A fluttery sigh- then a short, pitiful whine at how Kenma was making it hard again-

"I think- ah! I-i... I've 'ad a-... crush- on you-- Mh!"

Your pushing against his forearm became compromised as Kuroo laced his fingers through yours, pulling your hand to his lips. He listened closely.

That little tension around his eyes seemed to melt, his smirk becoming more of a smile. It was partially amusement at how difficult it was for you to speak, but it was also something he needed to hear.

"You're- h-ah-- soo hot," You seethed, unfocused eyes finally landing on his face, how he pressed that kiss real slow into the back of your hand, eyes unfaltering, "'And-- mmm, s-ooo sweet."

His true nature, with his guard down, didn't even show much like this. When he let loose, you could see that he was not much of a scheming, cunning, captain naturally. He was a big cutiepie that filled the gaps of his loneliness with too many distractions. That left him feeling guilty. Which, in turn, gave him more reason to compensate with the same sinful crutches.

It was easy to feel empathic for him as he gave you those big puppy dog eyes, but it was the very affinity for these crutches that got him all fired up at your words.

"Yeahh-," He gave another, rougher kiss to your hand, and sighed, "You're gettin' dicked down for that one."

Kenma chuckled at his silly, sudden change in attitude. You smiled, relieved, to see that you didn't have to move, that Kuroo would actually go for missionary, because this edge was heaven.

When he was settled between your legs, filling you up again to the base of his cock- he leaned forward and swerved to hold Kenma's face in one of his hands.

"I see what you're doin'."

Surprise was all over his delicate features.

"You're not subtle," He spat, using a rough kiss as the end of it.

They shared a long, messy kiss that spurred Kuroo to start fucking you- your gasps, whines, only encouraged him, only inspired their curiosity.

Maybe Kuroo did understand that Kenma had a higher plan; one that involved persuading you to come clean about your secret feelings, and use that as a weapon to inspire action in Kuroo. What remained ambiguous was why.

As distracted as Kenma was, he still didn't let off of your poor, overstimulated clit. They were both so rough in their respective tasks, and every time you tried to move one of them, your hands would be intercepted.

You had to just lay there and take it.

The 'why' kind of- fell away, when he parted from Kenma's soft lips, looking down at your clingy, blacked-out expression. Needy. He didn't get that look often- it made his cock swell, and turned his thrusts harder, as he felt you tighten.

"Fuck-! Ughh-" He had to swallow the build-up of spit in his mouth, push his sweat-soaked hair back, "You gonna cum around my cock?"

You responded so well to the pain on his face, the wanton desire behind the way he dug into your hips and watched Kenma lean over you for more kisses.

"Right in front of your- Mmh, pretty- little- boyfriend?"

In your pseudo-daze, riding that high, long-awaited build-up, you could feel Kenma sigh against your mouth at the attention.

"Fuck- fuck, fuck--!" You gasped- your pussy spasmed around his perfect cock.

Kuroo bit the inside of his already chewed up cheek to keep from cumming inside of you.

He felt your nails dig hard into his hand on your hip, your other one adding another trophy to Kenma's scarred shoulders. It was confirmation that Kenma had been lying to the team in the locker room on dozens of occasions, talking nonsense about a cat somehow scratching him up.

"Mmh-h-Ah-!"

It was nearly impossible to listen to you, as he fucked you hard through it all. Kenma recognized that expression well, a little proud smirk at his friend's restraint, and at how good your pussy was to keep him so obedient.

You were coming down, stupid and breathless, when he rushed to pull out of you.

"F-uck, a-ah-Haah, shitshitshit," He whined.

He was shaking, panting, and unsure if he had pulled out in time.

The nasty, addictive feeling of hot, sticky cum painted all between your folds, in the sheets, over your vibrator, tummy, inner thighs, and Kenma's hand.

His face was twitchy, but slowly spread to a panic that wasn't shared between you and Kenma.

Kenma considered torturing him longer, but decided against it.

"Birth control," He clarified, then repeated at Kuroo's empty-headed expression, "She's on birth control."

Kuroo gave a big, loud groan, slouching back to sit on his ankles: "Thank God- Ohhh-! Thank God, Holy shit...fuck."

This relationship had too many cum-hungry habits to not take every precaution. Aside from condoms.

His exhausted relief left him cracking his neck, rubbing his warm face at the sight of how covered you had gotten. He nearly missed Kenma licking the back of his own wrist.

You still looked as cute as ever, all sleepy and drenched. He couldn't help but shimmy lower, just to press a mean kiss to your slicked-up and tired clit.

"Ah-!" You squealed, thighs squeezed around his head.

Thankfully, he didn't intend to stay. He wiped the excess cum off of his cheek, finding it a little too salty for his taste, and chuckled at your quivering form.

Kenma was already taking on the responsibility of cleaning up. It left Kuroo to mess with you a bit longer and nestle up to your side again.

Kenma was on a mission for a warm rag for your slick, starting-to-be-sticky body and pulled on some clothes. He finished his water and excused himself to go grab more, for the two of you.

He watched him leave. It was quiet, except for your still-shaky breathing.

"You okay, babydoll?" Kuroo used his big hand to guide your face towards him, sharing in a few long, soft kisses.

You still kissed him with the same passion as earlier, even though Kenma wasn't around.

A weak, "Mhm."

"Was I too rough with you?"

You smiled, the question somehow able to make you blush, "N-o, you were- you were great."

Kuroo grinned, but it was a little empty. He wasn't optimistic about the reality of the aftermath. One fling, a spur-of-the-moment threesome, was fun, exciting, new. What about after that? After the newness wore off?

The last kiss you shared was a bit harder, rushed, for a reason you couldn't pick apart. He kept talking to you as he moved off of the bed and started getting dressed again.

"Y'know- I thought you and Kemma fucked like old people."

You chuckled, "Oh, really?"

"Yeah- but... you taught me a couple things."

Kuroo knew he would never be satisfied if he was seen as the outsider- but there was no room for him in your dynamic, from what he had seen so far.

He had no idea where he phone was, so he began searching for it, and it took so long that Kenma was already coming back in.

"Where are you going?" Kenma clocked him instantly.

You opened your eyes, confused- and now Kuroo had both of you looking at him like a fox in your henhouse.

"Well- I," He chuckled, again, empty, and you sensed it now, "I just- thought this was-..."

Kuroo swallowed, way more emotionally invested than he wanted to be. Usually, he could brush off that 'Why are you leaving?' look, as a sort of trophy sometimes, in recognition that he fucked somebody well. Here, he felt like a genuine asshole.

Kenma had a rag balled up in his hand, dripping onto the floor like a weapon. He set two bottles down on the bedside table without looking away from him.

"I don't know how you managed to twist it all up in your head, Kuro-," He walked closer, shoulders squared, until he was a little too close. Kuroo mimicked him, naturally.

You covered your mouth, a little too trembly, naked, and uninformed to contribute.

He was incredibly frustrated, as he continued, "-But I know you're not heartless. If you walk out--,"

"What?" Kuroo laughed, egging him on.

"I'm gonna beat your ass."

Kuroo laughed harder, brow furrowed, eyes searching down at him.

Disbelief laced his voice, "Oh, yeah?"

Kenma pushed him. It wasn't hard, but it made him take a step back. Kuroo blinked, and all the amusement had vanished, leaving only irritation in its wake.

It was unironically quite a scary display- you had already taken the initiative to sit up and cover yourself with a blanket. You were swimming in your own guilt. If you had said no, or just never liked him in the first place, it wouldn't have gotten to this point.

Kenma looked incredibly small with Kuroo's heavy hands on his shoulders.

"Good thing-," His hand slid down to Kenma's, interlacing their fingers, with a quick kiss to the top of the head, "I'm not leaving."

You shared big sigh of relief with Kenma.

"Fuck you," He muttered, giving into a grumpy kiss.

Kuroo's brow raised, already cheerful, and satisfied that he was wanted, especially enough to warrant that kind of reaction from Kenma. It was successful at settling any present doubts that this was just surface-level lust at play.

"Mm- maybe next time, yeah?"

He caught sight of you, all worried and bundled up in your blanket, "Aaww, sweetie-!"

"You poor thing-," He quickly returned to hug you, a thousand apologetic kisses to your head, "I would never hurt Kemma."

The only problem left to address was your stickiness, now also all over that one throw blanket. They both shared in the arduous task of cleaning up. The two were back to goofing around, showering you in compliments, apologies, and kisses for getting so stupid and worked up while you were caught in the middle.

Kenma had put his foot in the figurative door for something pretty special between the three of you. It would be a process, navigating this new thing together. If it meant more of this, though, it was worth a shot.

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

taglist - thanks for your patience and the support!!

@portrait-ninja @insertamazingname @thisiswhereishitpostalot @isayuni @ice-echo26 @ghostreader0307 @0kaymellon @peacetea-sb

my masterlist. more haikyuu. (new) my imagines.

[cloveroctobers]

HOW THEY DEAL WITH DISRESPECTFUL NEIGHBORS — MULTI [Summer Preferences]

A/N: thanks for voting on my poll, which I already knew who was going to win that but I still wanted to do a preference anyway since I never got around to writing what I originally wanted for my other characters on my summer prompt list rip to that idea! I’m writing in the order of which was voted from most to least highest minus one character.

WARNINGS: language, violence is sometimes the answer 🤭 + FC changed for Mikey due to recent news unfortunately, *GIF DOES NOT BELONG TO ME, not here to argue with anyone that feels different and you’re always welcome to keep imagining JB or simply do not engage with this.

<- read my previous summer anthology prompt here.

࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪

~ARMANDO~

He doesn’t take disrespect lightly.

The both of you lived just fine in your condo out in Miami, although Armando preferred the privacy more than anything he just kept this to the back of his mind that he was going to provide for your dream house together. Having your four year old daughter, Isaura only gave him more drive to get out of here.

The neighbors that lived on the floor directly above you, were all wide smiles and friendly making it their special job to try and introduce themselves to whoever they caught. They found you three at the pool one Sunday evening before dinner. Armando immediately felt they were weird telling you later that night in bed beside you, “they look like they eat people.”

“Armando!” You scolded as you slipped a bonnet on a half sleep Isaura, “they do but maybe they’re just the over friendly type.”

Armando sucked his teeth as he reached around you to snatch the sleepy toddler into his chest, “niña, can you say oblivious? tell mama that’s exactly what she is.”

Isaura just shifted her head looking away from the both of you.

“See, even your own daughter doesn’t want to listen to your mess. Give me my baby back so I can put her down,” you waved your fingers while Armando swings his legs to the edge of the bed.

He shifts the tiny girl against him and shakes his head, “nah, I got it. Got to make sure the fucken weirdos aren’t hiding in her room since you don’t want to believe me.”

“Hey, watch your mouth!” You lecture while Armando rolls his eyes, peeking down to see if Isaura even budged at his foul language before you continued, “I don’t know what goes in your mind sometimes,” you sigh with a shake of your head as Armando makes his way to the door, “…now you know I’m going to be up half the night checking on her.”

“Don’t worry about it, daddy’s gonna take the daybed just in case.”

Frowning you respond, “So you’re just going to abandon me?”

Armando snorts, “there’s enough of me to go around but if you wanna stay hold up in here by yourself, when we have the hills have eyes lurking from the floor above, that’s on you.”

“Bastard.” You muttered just as Armando was about to shut the door.

“What was that, mami?”

“I said I’m getting my neck pillow.” You answered as Armando laughs to himself, leaving the door open just a crack before carrying on down the hallway.

Armando would peep the disrespect more than you would but mostly on separate occasions. First it started with the husband constantly taking Armando’s assigned parking spot with one of his many cars, he would always turn up right when Armando had to circle around to take someone else’s, and when he was face to face with the husband’s false apologies and story about how he had to keep his monster truck locked away in storage thirty minutes away from the building, yet he always decided to take it out when Armando worked late nights…which was pretty convenient if you asked Armando.

Then you would tell Armando how the wife would make…interesting comments about how many more kids you two planned to have. “Hopefully a soccer team with your good looks!” She would laugh as she gripped your wrist. She would also ask: How you two managed to have free time with a four year old and if she was receiving enough attention between the two of you? That last question was off putting because why was this woman worrying about your child? Then if you listened closely enough, around the time it was time for Isaura’s nap or bedtime, whether Mike, Marcus and his family, or your best friend or family were watching her while the both of you were at work, the couple would decide to either start salsa lessons (according to the wife, Amy) which ended up turning into salsa lessons with no clothes directly on the floor, the husband winked at Armando who was not the least bit impressed.

“I think it’s common courtesy that you two learn to keep it down for not only us who have a child…who also has a routine but for your other neighbors as well. I’m sure there’s plenty of classes out in town you two can get into outside of this building.” You hinted to them.

“Oh sorry! I told Kit we were being too loud, see honey?!” She weakly slaps the wannabe WWE star against his buff chest, “We’ll definitely keep everyone more in mind this time, again sorry about that.” Amy apologizes.

“A man has needs though, am I right?” Kit would laugh, clapping his hand down on Armando’s shoulder who peeked at it, wondering why this man was so comfortable touching him.

Armando sniffed, “and you need to have some respect is all that we’re saying. Along with removing your hand from me.”

“Hey now! No need for the animosity, we’re all friends here neighbor!” Kit says as he applies a little more pressure on his hold of Armando’s shoulder but that only causes Armando to darken his stare.

Even Armando knew that statement was fake. Next thing he knows, when he’s heading out to work the morning after, he’s got a broken side mirror on the driver’s side and a large scratch on the passenger door with Kit’s car—that’s usually parked to the right of Armando’s—already gone for the day. Armando doesn’t take long to assess the situation, jaw tight as he looks around the garage for where exactly the cameras are. He would be hacking those as soon as he clocked in and didn’t give a damn who had something to say about it. He ended up calling you on the way to work, thanks to him phoning Dorn to carpool—him and Kelly had a disagreement so she drove to work on her own—to tell you exactly what happened since it was one of those days where you clocked in earlier than he did.

“I’ll try and keep him from doing something stupid.” Dorn calls out to you from the driver’s side.

You whisper as you stepped out briefly from working with a client as an aesthetician, “would you? I know it’ll be hard—

“I’m right here.” Armando reminded, “I’m done dealing with their creepy asses, Kit better hope I don’t see him when I get home tonight because his ass might turn up missing.”

You didn’t even argue because once Armando had something made up in his mind, it was hard for him to ever see another perspective. Also you didn’t doubt that Kit had something to do with it.

The last straw was when Kit and Amy’s German shepherd nipped towards Isaura’s face, when you had a minor confrontation with Amy, who you ran into while out shopping. She tried to sweep over the fact that she admitted to wishing that it was Armando on top of her instead of her actual husband and that it wasn’t a big deal because Kit was doing the same with you. Not only did she fix her mouth to say that, she also said she thought about what a kid would look like with her looks and Armando’s. “There’s nothing wrong with daydreaming.”

She said and it felt like she had spit in your face at how wicked her smile was on her overfilled lips. Again she was too close in your space but once Isaura ripped a cry so loud below along with the sounds of snarling from Amy’s dog, you didn’t hesitate to pull your child up into your arms and to kick at the dog.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Amy yelled pulling on her pet’s leash, “He’s just an animal!”

“An animal who tried to bite my kid’s face off! You’re lucky my foot didn’t connect but next time my fist won’t miss yours.”

“Are you threatening me?!”

“It’s not a threat, It’s a promise.” You concluded, “Stay away from my family if you know what’s good for you.”

“Excuse me? What does that mean?” Amy kept a tight hold on the leash now, “These are the things Kit and I get for being good neighbors?!”

You stopped in your tracks as you turned to give Amy one last look while you cradled a scared Isaura to your chest, “it means exactly what you think it means. Y’all keep saying your good neighbors but is that in the building with us or in your sick delusions? I’m warning you Amy, back the fuck off or you’ll really be sorry.”

Amy sticks her nose up in the air, “my uncle is the best lawyer in the city. If you’re thinking about harming my family then I’ll sue both of you so hard that little Laura will have no choice but to have a new family. Kit and I have been trying for months for a little one and Laura is the cutest thing.”

Laughing you found it hilarious that Amy thought she could continue to try you with her mind games. She really didn’t know who she was fucking with.

“I can guarantee that your uncle doesn’t have shit on my man. Also my father-in-law is a pretty good detective and he’s already heard about you two, just waiting for the word. The difference between you and I, is that I love only one man. And sweetie, it’s no competition when I’ve already won. Now you enjoy the rest of your day…before it expires.” It was your turn to send her a sickeningly charming smile as you spun back on your heels.

Leaving her like a gapping fish, you make your way back to your car, strapping Issy in with another caress to her face, quadruple checking that the dog didn’t do anything to her face and handing Issy one of her toys to cuddle with on the way back home. As you started your engine, you immediately called Armando through the car’s Bluetooth before pulling off from the curb.

It’s game night when there’s a knock on the door. Since Armando is helping Issy with the game piece on the game board, you push off the couch to get the door.

“Oh hi!” You greet, which makes Armando also move to get to his feet.

“We’re your new neighbors on the floor above who just moved in and we wanted to say thanks for the blueberry crumble and bottle of wine you sent our way, you really didn’t have to do that! We just thought it would be the kind thing to find the time to come down and introduce ourselves.” The woman speaks first with her hand held out.

You grasp her hand with a warm smile as you say, “mostly everyone is to themselves here but we got…pretty close with our old neighbors and my boyfriend, Armando and I thought we’d keep the tradition going.”

Armando gives a short wave at the two new faces as he stands beside you now, “hello,” he addresses the two while he bounces a giggly Issy on his hip.

“Aw, she’s so precious! Isn’t she, Steven?” The girl at the door elbows the guy beside her.

You take in her expression carefully, “do you two have any kids?”

She jabbed a thumb at the taller man, “Oh I’ll leave that all to my brother here.”

“I don’t have any…at least no one’s ever told me anything.” He nonchalantly shrugged while he looked off in thought up from his phone, while his sister rolls her eyes at him.

Armando snickers, which makes you quirk up a brow at him.

“Do you guys know where the other tenants moved off to? The agent says it was pretty abrupt but we got a steal on most of their furniture.” The young girl chats.

Armando speaks up, “heard they really wanted to explore more of Europe…guess Miami living inspired them to see what else the world has to offer.”

“Sweet,” Steven nods, “that would be a dream.”

“That is what they say life is,” Armando adds as he sends a quick wink to you while you lightly shake your head at him. He then slips an arm around your waist appearing as a Kodak moment to the siblings outside the door, “but welcome to the neighborhood you two, I’ve got a feelin’ you’ll be good neighbors.”

In short: he eliminates the problem.

~RIO~

He had been away on a business trip when he gets back home earlier than expected. He likes to do this sometimes, liking to surprise you with his pop-in’s—take that how you will. What he wasn’t expecting was his ex sitting in the sitting room with you, the two of you chatting to the right of the home from the foyer over a bottle of tequila.

“…so the hell are you gonna tell lollipop king?”

“Girl, who?”

“You know his name, Christopher!”

You laugh followed by a groan, “he’ll find out sooner than later since old man Stewart and him are practically golfing buddies who act like they don’t gossip.”

Rio used that moment to clear his throat from his leaned position against the doorway. He didn’t like how your guard was down as he just lingered there, you slouched on the couch and Rhea balled up in one of the living chairs but that was another conversation. He needed to know just what you were hiding from him and now.

“Tell me what, mama?” Rio rasped, hands clasped in front of him.

Rhea’s mouth formed into an O-shape, getting ready to collect her things but Rio cuts his eyes at the short haired woman too, “nah, you don’t gotta leave on my account.”

“Believe me I’m not,” Rhea sassed as she collected her square glass and the almost empty bottle, “I’m going to check on our son while you guys—debrief.”

You gasped, “this involves you too, you know?!”

“I don’t live here!”

“Could have fooled me.” Rio adds as Rhea makes her way by him, bumping her shoulder with his.

Rio just snorts as the woman heads across the hall towards the side entrance of the kitchen. When he sets his eyes back on you, he watched as you used one of your hands to pinch in between your brows as you pulled your bottom lip into your mouth. The buzzed haired man then plops down beside you, lolling his head to meet your gaze but you just quickly down the rest of your drink.

“What’s going on?” Rio questions.

You exhale, “oh nothing much, it’s good to see you though!”

“You’re tipsy on a Wednesday afternoon and not on wine…something’s up?” Rio analyzed you pretty quick, which was to be expected.

Exhaling you close your eyes, thinking if maybe you just dozed off then Rio would leave you alone and Rhea would sneak out with Marcus out the back. You knew that was a slim chance since that boy loved his father a lot and would want to see him before heading back home with his mom.

Your eyes were widened as Rio gripped your bandaged hand, making you wince as he did so. You were hoping that he wouldn’t notice but you couldn’t be that much of a fool, not when it came to your husband.

“I’m going to ask only one more time before I start looking for answers myself, so tell me what happened?” Rio quizzes one last time.

Sighing you meet Rio’s eyes as you tell him, “Polly’s mother is visiting and she started shit with Marcus while he was outside playing in the front yard. I was bringing the plants from the garage up front when this all happened but Stewart saw it happening from his window and came out before I got up front. I handled it, she got HOA involved, and now apparently there’s a meeting on Saturday morning.”

The shift in Rio was instant as he sat up, still holding your hand in his lap, “she don’t even live here and she thinks she can say something to the kid? Did she do this to your hand? Give me the details, mama.”

And so you did. You told him how Marcus was running around out front keeping himself entertained while you were dragging the outdoor plants that you thought would look nice in the backyard up front from the garage. It took some time for you to pick up on the yelling, making the palm of your hand get impaled by one of agave leaves that you tossed to the ground at the familiar rebuttal of Marcus’ voice. Your instincts kicked in even if your hand bled like crazy and hurt like hell, you didn’t take kindly to strangers screaming at kids.

You were once an elementary school teacher before becoming a housewife to Rio. There was always a certain way that you needed to speak to people, especially kids and you weren’t having it with Polly’s mother who always visited in the summer. Polly was cool, even her mother-in-law was tolerable (although she was a yapper) but you just didn’t understand how someone like Polly had a mother as nasty as this Karen who was drilling into Marcus who she didn’t even know. In her mind she believed that Marcus specifically shouldn’t be playing around the sidewalk, that it was against the “rules” of this community that she wasn’t sure Marcus even belonged to and should be playing in a different area instead.

You guys had a fence but Marcus said that he hit the ball too far and it ended up on the sidewalk so that’s the only reason he came around the fence. You didn’t care what the reason was, he knew not to play near the street of the gated community but you trusted his word regardless and old man Stewart confirmed this with a nod of his head. He had the both of your back’s and you guys spent the holidays every so often at each other’s houses.

“It got ugly, babe. Told her to keep her finger out my face and to not ever speak to my kid like that again. She tried to chest bump my back so I turned around and shoved her on her ass. She’s lucky I didn’t smack the shit out her wal-mart Glenn Close looking ass. Which was enough ammo for her to call HOA but we’ve got cameras just as much as Polly’s got her ring camera so I’m not worried. I just didn’t want Marcus to deal with that bullshit.”

Rio ends up smiling at you and you widen your eyes at him. “I’m glad you find this amusing.”

“Oh it’s not—I’m just proud of you.”

“For not going to jail?”

Rio tilts his head to the side, “The verdicts probably still out on that one, knowing the kind of woman she is.”

“You’re right.”

“I’ll have to talk to Polly.” Rio decided as he caressed your fingertips.

“She’s already sent mountains of texts, she’s with us and says she’ll work on talking to her demon—I mean mother.” You can’t fight against the liquor but even still, you said what you said.

Rio nods, “you don’t even got to worry about the rest. I got us.”

“…do I want to know?”

“Nah,” Rio shrugged as he used his other hand to caress your face, “just continue being the best thing that happened to me. I know I don’t have to thank you but I want to, for looking at Marcus as your own.”

You laugh, “he’s a great kid, part of you, which makes me love you guys even more so of course I will—without question.”

Rio pulls you by the chin to his lips, which you’ve been missing all week and when he lets you slip your tongue into his mouth, he pulls back with a grin. “Later mama, I got to make sure you two are good first.”

“Huh?” Your eyes fluttered open as Rio holds your own hand up in front of your face to prove his point, “that’s just a scratch.”

“Our girl will be the judge of that.” Rio tells, “Can’t believe you didn’t try and sneak her over here.”

“Thought she was on business with you guys.”

“We got more than one medic, mama. I kept the best here with y’all.”

“How kind.”

“I’m a kind guy.”

“I don’t think the dust bag will think so when you’re finished spooking her.”

Rio doesn’t fight his grin but replies, “Who says I’m gonna do it? I got people for that but the message will be real clear.”

“Rio—

He shushes you as he pecks your lips once more, making you lean your forehead against his, happy that he’s home before he’s sending out a code to your number one medic girl to stop by the house ASAP.

the both of you break away as the thudding of steps decended down the steps, revealing Marcus who called out Rio’s name, who he needed further reassurance from.

“Hey bud,” Rio starts as he embraces the young boy before knocking their fist together, “you good?”

He slowly nods but Rio knows he’s not, although he had a feeling Marcus held his own. It usually took a lot to bring it out of him to defend himself but Rio would see for himself once he looked at the footage tonight.

“You know what? Let’s go play outside while the ladies finish up.” Rio gets to his feet and the slight panic in Marcus’ face is evident, making your heart break while Rhea tightens the folding of her arms.

Rio squeezed Marcus’ shoulder, “hey, when you’re with me you remember you’re the king of your own castle, aight? Nobody can tell you nothing, move how you wanna move and own it. This is your neighborhood too, you understand?”

“…yes dad.”

“Alright? I got goalie.”

Rio sends a firm look to you two ladies before he heads outside with Marcus right beside him.

He attentively analyzed the situation before deciding what else needs to be done. One thing you could never do was go against the family he built and that was always serious to him. Anybody that messed with his family, immediately became his target and if it had to be a part time neighbor from across the street?

So be it.

They’ll learn soon enough.

They always do.

~LUCA~

“Babe! You’re not gonna believe this.” Luca calls out to you as he slams the front entrance door from down below shut, before making his way upstairs.

You can always tell when Luca’s home because he has a tendency to be heavy handed, always slamming the door that it tends to shake the house. It’s not something he purposely does, majority of the time he doesn’t even notice but it is a thing and even your neighbors in the townhouse to the left of you mockingly mentioned it.

They were assholes anyway and should be the last ones to talk about noise. Having loud company over every other day and some type of event at their home every other weekend, also crowding up the streets, without inviting you guys on multiple occasions. There were eight specific units on this street that were all grouped and managed underneath the same property and you would think they would also include you two. The both of you quickly learned that Chicago was much different than Copenhagen.

And what Luca remembered.

“I wouldn’t take it to heart and give it some time, yeah? Otherwise? They can piss right off!” Luca’s older sister that he’s reconnected with while being back in the states tells you two, laughing lightly as she’s helping you two unpack weeks ago.

You wouldn’t have if you didn’t decide to be neighborly, bringing them their mail when it accidentally got mixed in with yours, waving at them in passing as you chatted with the other residents, and then actually going over to introduce yourselves with a platter. It was all fraudulent and they just didn’t want to be bothered with you two, Luca gradually started to forget about it after finding a new position at one of the top three upscale restaurants in the city until you would bring it up. And of course he listened to anything that bothered you.

Their music was too loud for hours at a time sometimes until two in the morning on a week night, Luca would calmly address the situation to the guy of the household when he would get a hold of him on his way in from running around the city in sweats and a hoodie—yes in the middle of a scorching August, the both of you always had early mornings with you being a medical assistant down at the hospital and with Luca always having to do prep. You didn’t have the patience to stick around for the guy and his significant other never came to the door when you both knew she was home probably hungover.

Luca was friendly in his approach about it and at first, the athlete told Luca that they were just celebrating as much as they could before he was back on the road to get in the box yet he couldn’t help but to throw in a jab, “They do have these things called single family homes. Maybe you two should consider that.” In the end he said they’d try to keep it down. That still rubbed you the wrong way when Luca slipped up and told you that part.

Which only meant turning the music up even louder that the house rattled on their end. If their garbage was over filled, they would dump some of it into yours attracting raccoons but would then claim it had to be one of the other neighbors—you two had a ring cam, it wasn’t. The last straw was the fiancée drunkly pissing right in the path of your garage, which you stepped in the next morning when you were running late to work.

Humming you turn your attention from the street view of the balcony to Luca who stood in the doorway. You sat comfortably in the outdoor chair, paperback turned over on the table as you finished sipping at your fruit water.

“Hey baby,” you greet with a smile, relaxed and bare faced on your day off in the summer light as you held your face up for Luca to place a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth before he sat in the chair across from you.

Luca stretched his arms across the table as he greeted you back, “hello darling…you’re not gonna believe this!” He continues.

“What? That you suddenly caved and like Chicago dogs now?” You quizzed, folding your own arms as you leaned against the table, ready to listen.

Luca chuckles, “not likely, babe. Guess I won’t ever fit into their standards, yeah?”

“I think the world will still turn.”

“I think so too,” Luca agrees with a small smirk, “listen to this. I went to the bakery, the one Marcus is working part-time at now because of the whole thing with Carmy’s uncle—just to check on him you know? Guess who was also in there?”

You raise your brows after finding it sweet that Luca made it his mission to check in on Marcus. The two hit it off when Marcus trained underneath him for a couple of weeks back then and he’s been over to the flat a few times along with Sydney. Luca didn’t give you much time to guess since he was so adamant about telling you about his day. Usually when something was on Luca’s mind, his words went haywire out of excitement—depending what it was of course.

“Ryan!”

You blinked at the news of your boyfriend running into your problematic next door neighbor in slight confusion, “okay…a little surprised he likes baked goods since he gives the impression that he drinks egg yolks and eats raw meat for fun.”

It was Luca’s turn to furrow his naturally arched brows, “I’m not quite sure how you’ve gotten that idea and you might want to cut back on your time watching Santa Clarita Diet. It might help.”

You snort as you wave your fingers along for the now buzzed blond to continue. It wouldn’t be the first show that you watched where Luca passed judgment on. He is definitely the one to ask a thousand questions while you’re trying to watch something.

“Ryan told me, Leah was rushed to the hospital yesterday morning.” Luca informs you, “Want to know what for?”

Sitting back against the chair, you keep your arms crossed and fight the urge to roll your eyes, “…not particularly, no.”

Luca bites down on his bottom lip trying to hold it in but doesn’t, “she crapped out a parasite.”

Your mouth drops open, “You’re lying.”

“Honest to flavor town.” Luca does the praying motion before pointing to the sky and you knew it was serious business if he mentioned Guy Fieri.

Clasping a hand against your mouth you try to hide your snickers but Luca picks up on the fact that you found this a little too amusing.

“…what have you done?” He points an accusatory finger at you.

Lifting your shoulders, your lips twist around in laughter and you dared peeked back at Luca who was awaiting your answer. You wouldn’t leave him in the dark much longer, “fine! I sent a cleanse her way after all that day drinking and with my medical knowledge…I thought I’d give a helping hand.”

“Which means what?” Luca pressed, sitting back as well as he listened to you.

“I may have or may not have used the papayas that Grace left here before she went back to Texas when we went to that farmer’s market,” you slowly admit of your time with your old friend who came to visit with her baby girl Charlie, informing your boyfriend of the slight clues, “we both know I’m allergic and I didn’t want them to go to waste. So I made our lovely neighbors some papaya cereal with the seeds, put it up real nice in a jar for them to enjoy. Left it by their door and watched Ryan bring the bait in.”

Luca exhales, “you’re actually starting to scare me.”

“Remember that old nutritionist who’s heavily spiritual I told you about that we always end up seeing once a month at the hospital?” You ask while Luca nods his head, “she experienced the same thing partygirlLeah99 did but her’s was intentional.”

The bomb that you dropped had Luca clenching his eyes shut, “what you’re telling me is…you basically gave our neighbor some form of a laxative?”

“Just removed the toxins and clearly Leah has some. How many parasites was it?”

Luca shook his head, “no, no, no. We’re not just going to skip over the chaotic evil you’ve just done.”

You tilted your head to the side, “I think it was more lawful evil…maybe even good. She pissed on our property, Luca! And Ryan’s a dick.”

Luca holds his forehead now stressed, “Yeah and he can K.O. us if he really wanted to if he ever found out! He’s a professional boxer—

“I don’t care! Lessons need to be taught and he’s out of here in the fall anyway so that’s one less problem we have to deal with.” You shrug as you reach for your water again but Luca snatched it back.

He sighs, “we talked about this…you can’t just go and take matters into your own hands without discussing it with me first. I said I would talk to them about the peeing situation—

“You tried talking to them before! They don’t care about us, and sure they don’t owe us anything but I worked really hard on that charcuterie board, then they excluded us constantly and probably will do it again once Halloween comes around—

“So that’s what this is about? You’re worried about Halloween?” Luca questions, knowing it was one of your favorite Halloween parties.

“How dare they throw a summerween party when I’m the number one queen of the spooks!” You childishly turn your head to peek out into Chicago’s scenery from your first balcony.

Luca sips at your water now and exaggerates as he lets out an, “ah! That’s refreshing but I don’t know what to say about my girlfriend being upset over some people that we don’t even know well enough to care about their perceptions of us, if they even have any.”

Both of your professions caused you to be around all sorts of people, especially some downright mean ones but you both persevered. Luca would always take it as a learning curve, whereas you tended to take things more personal majority of the time. Yes you were the type to cry when angry, go ahead and sue your sensitive heart! Luca was only a little older than you and slightly better at communicating—when he wasn’t a nervous wreck—but you on the other hand tended to proceed with action rather than words or a conversation like Luca.

“Don’t say anything to me, just love me, choose me,” you playfully recite while Luca scoffs, “and wish those bitches an early happy Halloween, specifically from me to them. What she won’t know what hurt her.” You wink while Luca runs a hand over his buzzed summer look in shock.

“Well it actually did,” Luca frowns with his hands held out although you’re still unphased, “and doesn’t this count as assault?”

There goes the panic everybody!

You knew a good lawyer that shared the same blood as Luca (if it ever came to that) you weren’t worried and maybe you were chaotic evil after all? Depends who you ask.

Pouting you say, “Did she die?”

“No!”

“Then everybody wins!” You clap as you push back from the table, “So…What’s for dinner?”

“Not fucking papayas that’s for sure.” Luca states while you laugh, beginning to collect your things to bring back inside.

Luca sits outside for a moment longer, you briefly kiss his lips, him shaking his head at you afterwards once more as he whacks your backside before you head in to search the fridge, and he stares out into the city just wondering what else this place will bring.

Hopefully better understanding of being neighbors in the states!

MIKEY

“The hell happened to you?” Mikey asks, sneaking up behind you in your kitchen.

Which wasn’t unfamiliar for him to do but you did let out a yelp as you stood by your coffee and tea counter. You turned to your old friend, who scanned his eyes all over your filth covered clothes.

“My neighbor Lorraine is mad that I called her son out for being a pervert. Then she tried to argue that my dog is barking at all times of the night so I don’t have the right to speak on her son!” You paced the floor.

Mikey crosses his arms, “well she isn’t too bright because that thing in there is far from a dog,” he starts while you give him the side eye for talking shit about your Maine coon, “and what’s this about a pervert?”

You sigh, “..her son is just this college dropout who’s apparently into astronomy and thinks I don’t catch him with his telescope set out on the front sidewalk, right where the living room window is, as if he’s gone camping with my body being the view!”

It wouldn’t be Mikey’s first time catching you streaking around the house either—that was your fault for giving him a key—but this random kid? He had a problem with.

Mikey rubs at his facial hair, “Was he the one that did this to you?”

You huff, “that little bitch ran as soon as mommy Lorraine thought it would be nice to dump her trash on me out in the courtyard.”

There was always something going on in your courtyard out back, whether it was random cookouts even in the winter!, residents fighting over which outdoor seating technically belonged to them (it didn’t belong to anyone, everybody at the condo had access to it), to Lorraine overpopulating the backyard with her garden and horrible smelling manure, and fires being started by the little kids for fun, Mikey can never say it’s a dull moment on Sunnyside Ave.

“…and what did you do?” Mikey questioned, his lips twisting at the corners, knowing he wasn’t the best influence, especially if the shoe was on the other foot.

Which you knew, hanging out with him, Richie, and even Michelle always had the potential go left very quickly.

“There’s onion juice or some shit in my eye,” you start using your wrist to wipe at your red eye before saying, “and if I somehow end up blind before I get in to my eye doctor this year…it’s a wrap for her.”

“So you’re going in for the silent kill?” Michael summarizes, “that leaves the creeper to me then, is he home? I’d love to have a talk with ‘em!”

He points towards the back door which leads out to the courtyard. You leap forward, latching onto Michael’s wrist, “which I’m sure you’ll get your chance but I see you bought something for me?”

Michael rolls his eyes as he glanced back at the counter that contained a bag, “you’re real observant aren’t ya?”

“I’m also hungry but I need to get this stench off me first.” You slap your hands beside your thighs.

He jokingly steps forward to take a whiff towards you, “…I wasn’t going to say anything but whew!”

“Shut up, Mikey!” You shove him back but he just laughs.

Mikey pinches a piece of your hair on your way by, pulling something from it, “looks like she got you good with some shallot skin and soil if you ask me! But I got a nice Cubano waiting for ya when you get out.”

Your mouth watered at the mention of your favorite sandwich Mikey always brought over to you every other Tuesday, “can’t wait for that baby to bring me the biggest serotonin.”

Mikey grins at you.

When you drag your eyes back to meet his you ask, “so how was your day, bub? Good?”

“Yeah! I think it’s going to be alright.”

You hold your hand out, “tell me about it?”

He takes your hand as you lead him to the bathroom. He sits on the toilet as you quickly get into your skincare, terrified of skin mites thanks to some shit Sugar sent to a group chat between you, her, and Michelle. Michael doesn’t mind watching you do your routine, falling into quiet chatter before you strip out of your clothes.

He tries not to let his stare linger but he always thought you were a goddess, even with your clothes on. The comfortability between you two was strong, that at times it felt like there was nothing to ever be afraid of, especially when it came to showing your most vulnerable selves to each other. It’s not long before he’s joining you behind the shower liner, helping each other clean away whatever the day held before you’re embracing each other, arms tucked underneath each others as your now loud conversation fights against the pressure from the shower head.

He tells you all about the possible new hire, her name being Tina and how he feels like she’ll be the one to keep Chicagoland on their toes and in shape. He’s got that spark in his eye when he talks about her, finding a connection and in hopes that she will turn up when she’s ready but he has no doubt that she will.

“Maybe you can call her for backup if you ever come face to face with string bean nose Lorraine.” Mikey jokes over the water.

You scoff, “if the garbage can actually hit me, Lorraine just might need to tap Tina in for her to get me off her ass!”

Mikey chuckles, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead before you tuck your head underneath his chin. If you could’ve, you would have held onto him for eternity.

But…that’s not the way life played out in later episodes.

When Tuesday’s hit, sometimes it still feels like he’s here around your condo trying to scare the shit out of your cat, when he’s the one who’s actually terrified of him. And when you catch yourself staring at Lorraine’s nose a little too long during your small morning chats before you’re both leaving for work—that’s right—you two are now cordial enough to have civilized conversations, and yes you had Michael Berzatto to thank for that.

For constantly seeing the best in everybody, even crazy gardening neighbors who loved composting and believing their son could do no wrong.

Who only knows what Mikey’s conversation with that kid was like. You had a feeling that Richie knew, there was a slim chance that Richie was his ride along when you were off at work or someplace else but Richie would always be Mikey’s keeper.

And you were fine with that, as long as you never saw a telescope again.

ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ࣪

SUMMER ‘24 PROMPTS FIN. (For now!)

[nmakii]

christmas kids

about him, who was also born on december 25th. i used to spot your face in every crowd, now i can’t even remember your smile.

— kaiser hates celebrating his birthday. no exceptions; not even for you.

cw: mentions of kaiser’s backstory, gesner being vulgar (im his biggest fan), kaiser is a meany pants, self deprecation

parties like these were a pain. kaiser stood beside his drunken teammates, while ‘all i want for christmas is you’ by mariah carey blasted for the 6th time on loop. it was disgustingly corny how he’d have to act as if he gives a damn to celebrate christmas with his co-workers. if the club owner for bastard münchen hadn’t required attendance for this party, he would’ve definitely skipped it.

to be entirely honest, he never even saw the point of celebrating december 25th. every year, the streets of berlin would be glowing with festive lights, and the halls of cathedrals would loudly ring their church bells.

but in kaiser’s dark corner of hell, his father would beat the life out of him. more so than usual— his eyes would bruise purple for weeks, and his nose wouldn’t stop the stream of red that would bleed all over his ragged clothes.

kaiser had learned from a young age, his birthday wasn’t something that should be celebrated, or even acknowledged. it was the day his scummy mother abandoned his even scummier father; it was the day trash was born. how could such an occasion even be celebrated?

with his birthday being public knowledge though, he doesn’t exactly have a choice on if he wants to celebrate it or not.

as clock struck midnight, everyone yelled out christmas greetings and wishes of good will, as well as greetings for kaiser, now a year older.

“woo! happy birthday, asshat! you’re 19!” gesner, incredibly drunk, slurs to kaiser. “a year closer to your death… in the end, we’re all just waiting for the day we never open our eyes again… oh, this is just too sad…” grim shudders, falling to the ground.

birkenstock pulls grim off the floor, and the team gathers around and very off tunely sings happy birthday to kaiser, while ness struggles to light the candle placed on top of the leftover pizza, yet to be finished.

“…happy birthday to you!” they cheer. “make a wish, kaiser.” ness smiles, holding the box.

‘what do i want..?’ he asks himself. he already has a lot more than he’s ever wanted; a comfortable home, decent company— asking for anything else would just seem… wrong.

the candle gleamed a burning red, its’ shine reflecting on kaiser’s face. the hot flames on his face, and he suddenly realizes what he wants— to be human.

that’s all he’s wanted for the longest time, why should he wish for anything else?

he blows out the candle, and they clap. “you guys didn’t need to do anything, i didn’t want to celebrate my birthday.” he lightly reprimanded. ness frowns, he was the one who had wanted surprise kaiser in the first place.

but, gesner boos at his pessimism. “don’t be a jerk, dick cheese! just accept it!” he roughly slaps kaiser on his back, kicking all the air out of his lungs. “oof..!” he coughs. “g..guh… are you sure you’re a football player? you slap so hard, you’re better suited to volleyball.”

gesner scoffs, and goes off on his rant about kaiser’s narcissism.

‘this environment… it’s hostile but, i’m still in control. this… isn’t that bad.’ kaiser thinks to himself. he doesn’t receive their goodwill; he forces it out of them, and they respond with their own form of resistance. yet, they still pass to him, no matter what. because, he’s the one in charge of this team.

“…and, you keep showing off that pretty thing you’re leaving on the hook. she could totally do better than that ‘will they, won’t they?’ situationship of your’s! seriously makes me feel bad for her…”

…kaiser wasn’t exactly sure what brought gesner to bring you up. but, bringing up your… relationship, was a bit of a sour spot for him.

he wanted to love you, you were someone he wanted to stick around for a while. you were kind, almost heaven-sent. something about you that would make him keep coming back. maybe it was the way you’d wake up early with him and make breakfast together, or the way you’d sass him and put him in his place when he was being an asshole. but, he couldn’t make up his mind on whether or not he should tear down those walls he’s built, and start over for you.

kaiser was used to restrictive environments, he thrived in discomfort. but, being vulnerable simply made his skin crawl with disgust. if it was for someone for you though… maybe he could try it. were you really worth it?

…he thinks you could be.

“it’s not a situationship, we’re just hanging out.” kaiser rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his mocktail. “plus, don’t you already have a girl you’re torturing?” he condescends.

thankfully, the party goes on without a fight starting, or kaiser’s birthday being mentioned anymore further.

and by the time kaiser arrives home, it’s already 2:30. he opens the door into his penthouse apartment.

the light is on.

he’s sure he didn’t leave the light on when he had left, there’s only one other explanation.

“s/o?” he called out.

you probably used the spare key for his apartment he gave you after much more frequent visits. did you think he was home?

“ah, hey!” you finally noticed his presence, waving hello. kaiser still had a suspicious glare on his face, his malice evident simply by his tone. “what are you doing here?”

“it’s your birthday!”

“so?”

“so, it has to be celebrated..! it was the day you were born after all.” you brainlessly informed him.

“i don’t celebrate it.” he sighs as he finally shuts the front door, dropping all his belongings on the console table.

“it’s the same day as christmas. it’s a hassle to celebrate two things.” he says the same excuse he’s used millions of times before but today, his act was getting sloppy. it’s clear by his sullen eyes that it’s more than just because it’s a hassle.

“uhuh… well, i made you a cake!”you urge him to come over. of course, it was a box set cake, but you still put tons of effort into decorating it!

what does he do? he wasn’t exactly sure on how to accept gifts in general. he passed through the narrow hall, and into the dining area.

he stared at the cake— it’s frosted in white french buttercream and its’ edges are piped blue with a french star tip. ‘happy birthday mikka’, it reads.

mikka… that isn’t a nickname that you’ve called him before. but, it’s cute. fuck, did he actually like this gift..?

‘…how sweet.’ he thinks. kaiser picked up the box with both his hands, his touch was so delicate. he carried the cake over to the kitchen counter,

…and opened the trash.

“hey! what are you doing..?!” you run to stop him from dumping your hard work into the garbage.

it doesn’t stop him though, it doesn’t even make him struggle. “i told you i don’t celebrate it.” he huffs as some of the cake crumbles and stains his hands.

he takes a frosting-covered finger to his lips, indulging in his salty sweet taste. “ah… it’s good.” he compliments. something that only happens to make you angrier.

“then why did you throw it in the garbage, asshole?!” you yell out. how insensitive could a person get?!

“i already told you, or are those ears of your’s just for decoration?” he scoffs, the air is heavy.

and at that moment, he knew it.

michael kaiser is not meant to love, or be loved.

…

“get out.” he commands. his cold eyes hit you like a dagger. “h..huh..?” you ask, indignant at how you were being treated.

you knew kaiser would be hard to unravel but, why is he acting so different so suddenly?

“i said get out. i already decided…”

“…we’re over, s/o” he decreed. “whatever romance you and i might have had is gone. go find someone else to care about you. i’m not gonna fit your romantic fantasy.”

“i— wait, mikka, we can work this out, okay..?!” you ask, a panicked expression decorating your face. “goddamnit, fine— i’m sorry for calling you an asshole, okay?!”

you sound almost desperate in your tone. but, it still doesn’t shake his decision. “no… get out. find someone who can fulfill that fantasy of your’s, i’m never gonna be the perfect boyfriend that you’re dreaming about. understand?”

and, the cold reality faces you. a look of despair on your face, it’s incredibly pathetic to be in this low of a position right now.

ah, that look on your face… he’ll miss that look of terror and desperation, on your face especially. the way your pretty eyes gleam with tears, and the way your nose scrunches, trying to hold back your snot.

“…fine. i hope you’re happy with your life, kaiser.” you spitefully spit out. his chest hurts when he hears you call him by his last name. did that hurt him..? just a little bit…

…and, that’s when kaiser asks himself the same question.

were you really worth tearing down everything he’s known just to build it all up again?

the answer was yes. you’re worth everything money could afford; you’re as priceless as every star in the sky.

it was kaiser who wasn’t worth it. you deserved more than a scummy asshole who’s too scared love.

but, that’s just the problem with kaiser, isn’t it?

the closer he wants you, the more he pushes you away.

[sirhamburrger]

BREAKING NEWS: CHART-TOPPING ARTIST YN LN PUBLICLY DISSES PXG STAR PLAYER AFTER HISTORIC VICTORY AGAINST BASTARD MÜNCHEN?!

after #JusticeForPXG starts to trend on most major social media platforms within a mere two hours, you receive an email from their manager. they… want you to perform before their match against the ubers? for a horrifying moment you’d thought your career might actually end over an offhand comment, but it seems you’ve been thrown a lifeline.

well, so much for that lifeline, because you’re pretty sure you trample all over it and set it on fire when, during your performance item three evenings later, a photo of none other than rin freaking itoshi appears on the big screen -

and the flash of a thousand cameras captures the very moment you roll your eyes in front of ten thousand people. and the whole internet.

you grimace when you step off the pitch and head back to the holding area, still panting from the exertion of the set. as the players stream out from their locker rooms, you brush against someone’s elbow, and as you turn a second later to wish the teams luck, you notice the man of the hour himself staring back at you.

and you really hate that you might care what he thinks about you.

---

“look,” aiku snickers, pointing at the screen in the locker room. “it’s your favourite bm fan.”

“it’s not even that funny.” rin tightens the laces on his cleats a little too aggressively to punctuate his sentence.

but he’s thinking: does she really hate him all that much?

“i’m pretty sure sendou dated her at some point,” karasu chimes in, rather unhelpfully.

“no way,” aiku says dismissively and more than a little seriously. “she’s waaaaay out of his league. she’d have to be blind - or really, really desperate.”

“get out of my player’s head, aiku.” julian loki pulls his jersey over his head, shooting the ex-u20 captain a withering stare. “or is it because you know you don’t stand a chance against us?”

“casse toi!” charles pipes up.

rin groans.

---

pxg wins that evening. you can’t even say you’re surprised - you knew, somehow, that it would turn out like this.

and here’s how the rest of it goes:

you tell yourself you’re going to leave the stadium quietly. slip out before anyone can get another picture of you, before the internet takes your face and pastes it onto another meme.

but fate has a funny way of playing games with you, because when you round the corner leading to the underground parking lot, you walk right into him.

rin itoshi.

you freeze, half because of the collision, half because - well, you’ve never actually been this close to him before. he’s taller than you expected. his hair is damp from the showers, and his stare is impassive, unreadable.

you expect him to be mad, or annoyed, or at the very least, indifferent enough to walk right past you. but instead, he speaks.

"you don’t like me."

it’s not a question.

you could lie, smooth things over, but that would be too easy. and honestly, you’re still annoyed - at the internet, at this whole situation, at the fact that he looks this good after running across a pitch for ninety minutes.

"what gave it away?" you say dryly.

his brow twitches, just the slightest bit. "is it because of pxg?"

you sigh. "no, it’s because i think you’re kind of an ass."

his lips press into a thin line. you expect him to snap at you, but instead, he just studies you - like he’s trying to solve some kind of puzzle.

"fair," he says after a beat, and for some reason, that catches you off guard.

you cross your arms. "that’s it? no defense? no ‘you don’t even know me’ speech?"

"if you think i’m an ass, i probably was." he shrugs, looking away for a second before flicking his gaze back to you. there’s something almost amused in his expression now. "but you still came to perform."

you roll your eyes. "only because your manager begged me to."

"right. had nothing to do with me."

"nothing at all."

he hums, as if he doesn’t quite believe you. as if he can see the way your resolve wavers, just a little, under the weight of his attention.

and you hate that he might be right.

he shifts then, stepping aside, giving you space to leave. but before you do, he says, almost offhandedly, "i don’t hate you, you know."

something about the way he says it makes your stomach flip. or maybe it's the compression shirt. (yeah, it's probably just the compression shirt.)

---

© sirhamburrger 2025

[kurishiri]

Mystery Bag 2025 ┊ Team 2: The trash bastards and the troubled fox

Harrison, Alfons, Jude, Nica

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to narrative flow and characterization purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— the mystery bag 2025 sale is a story set sale where the guys are put into teams and participate in a relay event thing. this is one of three teams (i love al too much to pass this by aa orz)! you can read the prologue, translated by @.judesmoonbeauty, here.

— cw: mentions of drugging or spiking drinks, bribing, and groping.

——Group 2 for the preliminary contest: Harrison, Alfons, Jude, Nica.

[SKY]

Steering committee: Then, we will begin the round for group 2.

Steering committee: Who will reach the goal first and emerge the happy boy for 2025?!

Steering committee: Let us go all out! Take your places, and…start!

[PARK - DAY]

Harrison: Oh, jeez, that was fast. So, why are you guys all standing there?

Alfons: Since the spectators are no longer in sight, so I figured if it was around now or so,

A: it would be a good time to drop this act of competing to the hardest and fullest.

Harrison: What? (O_O)

H: Or wait a minute, I’m pretty sure Al’s no exception; you guys are scheming something weird, aren’t you.

Jude: Who are ya gonna blame when ya don’t have a drop o’ evidence on ya? Way to make others out as the villain.

Nica: Agreed. I wouldn’t dream of scheming anything so bad in broad daylight, you know.

Harrison: Your lies are so damn obvious. I don’t even need to use my ability to figure that out.

H: If you all get caught, would you be alright getting disqualified?

Alfons: Oh, goodness, shiver me timbers. I’ll be honest, so hold your silence, alright?

A: I’m sure you’re aware there is a spot you can take a quick water break a bit up ahead, no?

A: I maaay or may not have pulled an ever so slight trick on the drinks.

A: Said trick being a sleeping drug that can knock one out immediately.

Harrison: You’re the worst.

Jude: Well, seems like somethin’ that walkin’ offense to public morals would pull outta his arse.

Alfons: And what of you?

Jude: Jus’ gave some money on a stick to the committee and told ‘em to tamper with the info and give us the win.

J: There’s been a wave o’ people, so it wouldn’t get outed.

Harrison: You’re no better.

Nica: I’d expect nothing less from the company president, dirtying your hands. Someone as well-bred as me could never.

Harrison: And? What’s up your sleeve?

Nica: Now don’t go lumping me together with that mirror man and president.

N: All I did was use my superior intellect and surveying skills. …Say, did you know?

N: This time, beneath the course there’s a sewer. One that’ll lead you right next to the goal.

N: So I was thinking of slipping underground, bide my time… and take first place.

Jude & Alfons: What a bastard. / Very much as low as trash.

Nica: You guys are the last ones I want to be called ‘trash bastards’ from.

Harrison: Damn, it’s trash bastards left and right.

H: So? What did you hope to gain from all this?

Alfons: Why of course, it’s to use Her Majesty’s authority to do this and that and aaall things in between.

Harrison: I was a fool for ever asking.

H: What about you, Jude?

Jude: Anythin’ goes. There’s a whole load o’ things I wanna do with the Queenie’s authority.

J: Well, I’d bet that bad guy over there would ask for somethin’ ridiculous.

Nica: As if. I’m just trying to earn what I very much love — money.

N: There’s never enough money to go around.

Harrison: If that’s what you really think, then I’ll leave it at that.

Nica: …Being able to pick up on lies, huh. You’ve got a troublesome ability on you, don’t you, Harrison Gray.

Harrison: They said abilities were forbidden. I’m just reading what you’re feeling.

Nica: You’re the only one who’ll ever know if you’re using your ability or not. I’d expect nothing less of the one Cursed by the Lying Fox.

Harrison: Thanks, I guess.

Nica: ——Anyway, what are we going to do from now on?

Alfons: Whatever could you mean?

Nica: I mean, seeing as we all revealed our hands, I can’t imagine this will end nice and smooth.

N: For the record, I’m fine with taking each other down. Since I don’t hold back against bastards and all.

Jude: Ha, I like the sound o’ that. The last one standin’ wins. Simple, clear-cut, n’ easy to understand.

Alfons: Though I can’t say I enjoy such brutish things, I suppose sacrifices may be inevitable.

Harrison: Hey you guys——

Woman’s cry: Ahh!

Harrison: That voice…

Woman’s cry: Someone! There’s a groper— he groped me!

Nica: A groper, huh.

N: Yeah, I figured. There’s bound to be some stupid humans who can’t hold themselves back and take advantage of the festival.

N: I just don’t get it. Well, I’m sure with this crowd, he’ll get caught in no time.

Alfons: I’m sure a man foolish enough to grope others will be caught soon——

A: But as I recall, the direction that man is running happens to be toward the place Kate has come to cheer for us, isn’t it?

Harrison: …I’ll go. I’m worried about her.

H: You guys can do whatever.

Jude: Tch, can’t stand the thought o’ leaving ‘er alone and gettin’ yelled at.

Alfons: Ahha! Are the men who haven’t run that much before going full speed ahead now?

A: What are you going to do, Nica?

Nica: Guess I’ll go too? Standing idle around won’t do much anyway.

[ALLEYWAY]

Groper: Dammit… why are you guys chasing after me! Ah——

Harrison: Okay, caught you.

Jude: Keep that trash bastard o’ a pervert restrained.

Harrison: That was my intention.

H: Ahh, you guys came too?

Nica: Ohh, so this is the groper, huh. Haha, now that’s a face that’ll probably stir up trouble with women.

Alfons: Judging by one’s outward appearance is nonsense. That said, though, he does sport a rather unfulfilled expression.

Groper: I didn’t do it! My hand just happened to touch her butt.

Groper: And besides! Aren’t you guys the one who’s got some unfulfilled desires, stirring up all this fuss all over this?

Alfons: Oh, you happened to, didn’t you.

A: On the way here, I caught onto something, you see.

A: As far as I heard, six women were bringing up how they were getting touched by you.

A: Why that is one hefty coincidence indeed, dare I say.

A: Or could it be your hands were implanted with a magnet that drew you to women’s rears?

Nica: And besides, we’ve got a handy lie detector right here.

N: So? Which is it?

Harrison: Everything you’re saying is a lie. There’s no doubt about that.

H: Well, that’s my intuition, at least.

Groper: …gh.

Groper: D-damn it all! Yeah, okay, I did it!

Nica: Okay, okay, I’ve heard just about enough of that bastard’s dirty voice.

Alfons: Now then, having confessed so honestly, what punishment shall we do?

A: Ahh, come to think of it, our abilities are off the table, aren’t they. Well then, Jude.

Jude: Show that nasty arse o’ yours. The one ya fondled with.

Groper: Guah!

Nica: Wow, that sounded brutal. His bones are probably broken.

Alfons: My heartfelt condolences. Well, what should we do with this knocked out man?

Harrison: Hand him over to the police.

H: Today we’re not Crown and Vogel, but rather just participants.

Jude: Whatever floats your boat. I couldn’t care less.

An unclear cry: Ahh!

Harrison: Another one…? (O_O)

Alfons: What is it this time?

[BRIDGE]

Kate: Ah— guys!

K: There’s a big problem, all the participants who had the drinks from the break spot ended up falling fast asleep!

Alfons: Is that so?

Kate: And then a committee member started to reveal that they’d been threatened and bribed and——

Jude: Hmm.

Kate: And on top of that, it was discovered that someone was going to use the sewer as an unjust move!

Nica: Well, I’ll be.

Kate: Just who could be behind these? It’s too much like what a trash bastard would do, and I can’t look past that!

Harrison: Go on, Kate, keep it going.

Kate: Wha——?

Fin.

team 1 team 2 team 3

ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

[hauntedhokage]

Should've Been Me

Michael Kaiser/F!Reader | One sided Ness/Kaiser

rating: mature

summary: Ness’ obsession with Kaiser has created a loathing for you, Kaiser’s girlfriend. Your birthday party just happens to be the iceberg that sinks his titanic

word count: 1.1k

note: Ness doesn’t hate women he just hates you. I've also had this in the drafts for months and finally finished it bc i was thinking about Kaiser/Ness

He had no desire to be around you, the beauty queen constantly posing for pictures with Kaiser and other friends as you navigated your party. He didn’t want to be there, but the whole team had been invited and he knew that Kaiser would be disappointed if he didn’t show up. It was out of respect for his friend that he was at this pool party - at least that’s what he told himself. 

He spends a lot of time studying you like he would tapes of old matches; but the play he was analyzing was how you navigate your guests, moving through the crowd smoother than he could dribble a ball and exchanging pleasantries. Sometimes you stop for a while, usually when you’re stopped by Kaiser or one of your close friends, and as the ever attentive host you paid careful attention to what everyone needed from you. 

Kaiser finally stops you on your third lap around to greet and check in on guests, loudly letting everyone know that if they needed you they could come find you, pulling you to sit on his lap at one of the poolside tables. Ness is forced to look away when a pointed look is shot over your unsuspecting head - telling him to be nice and stop staring. The blonde had always known there was a tension, Ness just hoped he didn’t know exactly what he thought about the influencer girlfriend. That would be potentially catastrophic to their friendship - and Ness really liked having Kaiser’s friendship.

He just didn’t like how you and Kaiser seemed to be having a wonderful time, in your own little world where he could just rest his chin on your shoulder and kiss at your skin like a devoted lover. Of course there’s footage of it that will live on your Instagram; stories and posts revolving around the internet showing off a life that appeared to be so perfect. You were happy, popular, made good money just being places and making cute videos with your cat, running an instagram for said cat, and had your own human version of a housecat in one Michael Kaiser the star striker of the Bastard München. And how Kaiser would do anything for you, to keep his beautiful social media star happy - Ness just didn’t get it. 

What was it you had that he, Kaiser’s best friend, couldn’t provide? He was right there, had been since the start, but Kaiser picked you after you and your cat had been invited to a soccer game (turns out even Noel Noa liked your content). The tattooed blonde had one conversation and got to take a picture with the cat and your claws had been sunk into the striker ever since. Not once had you loosened your grip, not even when you two were oceans apart and arguing over jealous words and revenge partying. Kaiser was obsessed with you, and Ness doesn’t get it in the slightest. But he’s not even sure what he hates more: you or the fact that he couldn’t figure you out?

When he gets up to get a drink, he intentionally walks over to where you’re still seated comfortably on Kaiser’s lap, and he knows that you’re watching him despite the mirror lenses hiding your eyes. Instead of the sharp eyes that cut right into his soul, he’s staring back at his own forced smile as he asks if his teammate or the birthday girl wanted anything from where the drinks and food were set up. Both smile and shake their heads, Kaiser joking about the only snack he needs being the pretty girl in his lap which has Ness holding back a gag at how corny the usually cool striker was. You at least thank him for thinking of you before Kaiser is waving him off to go have fun and stop sulking in the corner - both offering to introduce him to one of your friends that apparently had a crush on him. An invitation Ness declines, instead asking for them to point out the woman so he could introduce himself while knowing damn well that he wasn’t. 

“Is he okay?” Ness hears you ask, but he doesn’t hear the response that Kaiser gives - whether it was to assure you or tell the truth about his own suspicions regarding Ness’ behavior, the best friend didn’t know. 

When he returns to his seat, Ness does a double take on the way. Kaiser was gone, and so was the little influencer that the blonde was wrapped around. Ready with a lie about needing to use the bathroom, Ness makes his way back through the little groups of people enjoying themselves while looking for Kaiser. The last place to look is inside the home you’d rented for this occasion, his nerves on edge at not knowing where his friend was. Did he leave, pulled away from the party to go galavant with the horrible host?

“Always so tight.” Ness hears Kaiser before he sees the blonde, and peeks into the crack left by a partially open door to see the one sight he’d never be able to scrub from his mind. 

Kaiser, his best friend, balls deep in the woman that Ness hated more than anything. Kaiser pulling soft whines and mewls from your still glossy lips with the force of his thrusts while he was whispering soft praise into your ear. 

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, fingers digging into Kaiser’s muscular back. Your sunglasses are gone; on the floor with your cute expensive sandals, bikini bottoms, and Ness’ stomach at the sight of you taking his friend’s cock. “Mic-“

“Shhh.” Kaiser’s covering your mouth now, relying on the wall to help in keeping you balanced as he maintains his pace. “Can’t have anyone finding us, birthday girl.”

You nod, and he lets your mouth go so he can kiss you, muffling his own pleasured groans as his hips stutter before finally stilling against yours. 

“Need you to keep all my cum inside, yeah? Then when your party is done we’ll keep celebrating.” 

The promise from Kaiser should’ve been Ness’ invitation to leave, but instead he’s caught with wide eyes and a growing bulge in his shorts at the sight he’d been treated to. Michael truly was beautiful, and the knowing smirk that stretches across his face only further complements the blonde’s natural beauty. 

And then there was you. He swore you looked smug as hell as Kaiser pulls out and tucks himself back into his swim trunks. You were winning, Kaiser was yours, and you knew that just as well as he did. 

“Alexis, you can be the first to know,” you start, keeping your hands on Kaiser’s shoulders as he ensures your balance despite your still shaky legs. But it’s then that Ness sees it, a blue stone sparkling in the light on your left hand - on the finger that sealed your fate with Michael Kaiser. You’d never let Kaiser go, he was perfection personified and only an idiot would let him go, which meant that you would be in Ness’ orbit forever.

Fuck.

[the-teufort-nine]

The BLU Chemist Reader returns for their final fic! 11k words and about a week of work and beta reading by @pinkypiechar have led to this! I hope it lives up to expectations!

If you like the idea of a Chemist Reader, please consider checking out my longer, RED Chemist Fem!Reader fic, whenever I actually get around to writing it.

Mercs x GN!Reader | Respawn Malfunction PART 3: Chem and RED's Excellent Adventure

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ Hurt/Comfort, Discussion of Poly Relationship, Crossfaction Flirting | NSFW, because while technically no sex happens, its definitely discussed/implied| Cw: starvation, mentions of graphic death/description of a corpse, mentions of pet death (non graphic), possesive behaviours ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Featuring:

Everyone! Even Miss Pauling is here, as well as a particularly charming duo from the enemy team.

Scenario: Having been stranded at the new base with no hope of making it back to their team alone, the BLU Chemist must ask their mortal enemy for help. Thankfully, even a RED Engineer has some good ole' southern hospitality, and the Texan offers to get the BLU back to their team. (Un)fortunately, someone else has joined in on their little quest...

The RED team's Engineer had seen many things during his time working for Mann Co., but the sight before him now may have been the strangest yet.

The BLU Chemist, whom everyone knew had died during that horrible Respawn failure, was standing on the other end of his trusty shotgun.

Well, standing might have been too generous a word. The Merc was swaying like a sapling in a storm, trembling from the effort of staying upright. Their usually vibrant eyes were dull behind their safety goggles, which didn't hug their face like usual. Everything they wore looked baggy and ill-fitting, barely hanging onto their gaunt, thin form. They looked dead, as though their soul had been dragged back from the afterlife and shoved into their corpse.

“How the hell…” he lowered his gun, blue eyes narrowing in disbelief, “Ain't you supposed to be dead?” 

“I was.” They shrugged weakly, stumbling slightly, “Now I'm not. I actually just died again a few hours ago, and I'm pretty sure my team might think I'm actually dead. Again.”

“Jesus Mary and Joseph.” The Engineer cursed, before opening the door wider. “Well, I reckon since it's a ceasefire, ah ain't bein’ paid t’ kill ‘ya, so y’ may as well come in. Just try ‘n keep the noise down, otherwise you're gonna have 9 curious bastards pokin’ atcha.”

“I'll be as quiet as a church mouse.” The BLU replied, wincing as they stepped into the illuminated interior. “Jesus, that's bright.”

“It really ain't.” The Southerner arched a concerned brow, “You’re just sick as a dog.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Came the Chemist’s grumbled response.

“Where’d you come from? Ain’t much ‘round here that could get ‘ya killed, aside from us.” He asked, extending a hand to steady his unexpected guest as they tilted towards the wall.

“Uhhhh,” The Chemist scrubbed at their eyes, letting their hand drag down their face. Their E/C eyes stared blankly at the wall as they tried to call forth an answer. “Colorado. Yeah, we were in Colorado. We had to stop at this little town called Limon ‘cause there was a tornado.”

“A tornado?”

“Yeah. It knocked down a utility pole. That’s how I died again, actually! Biggggg ole electric shock.”

Engineer let out a low whistle. “Nasty way to go. You are one unlucky sumbitch, huh?”

The Chemist inclined their head. “Or, I’m a lucky ‘sumbitch’, depending on how you look at it. I’ve cheated Death twice now, after all.”

Engineer snorted at their attempt to mimic his accent. It reminded him of his own team’s Chemist, who was tucked away upstairs, sleeping peacefully. She often copied his countryisms, and he would sometimes catch her unconsciously copying the accent or speech mannerisms of whomever she was speaking to.

“Maybe.” he acquiesced, “Yer a right tough bastard, ah’ll give ‘ya that. No wonder yer such a pain in the ass when we’re scrappin’.”

The other Merc grinned a bit. “Being a pain in the ass is my specialty.”

Before he knew it, Engineer found himself standing in the Intel room, where the base’s phone was located. Thankfully, their Intel was still packed away in a secure safe, but even if it wasn’t, the man was fairly sure that this BLU wouldn’t try and snag it.

“Here ‘ya are! Hope ‘ya get through to someone.” He said, offering the phone to the exhausted Chemist.

“‘Preciate it.” They said, taking the phone and punching in a few numbers. They leaned against the wall, head resting on the wood as they listened to the phone ring. After a minute, they frowned, letting out a soft curse.

“Pauling’s not picking up. The storm must have knocked out her signal.” They sighed, “Great. Guess I'm waiting back at our base for them to show up. Whenever that is.”

“Are you gonna be able to hang on that long?” The Texan questioned, “No offense, partner, but you look like yer gonna drop.”

The Chemist sighed again, in a long, drawn out way, the way someone did when bone deep exhaustion finally caught up to them. The way animals do when they've given all they can, and now simply must lie down and wait for the inevitable.

“It's not like I have much of a choice. I mean, what else am I supposed to do?” They asked.

“Well,” The RED Merc scratched at his chin, contemplating if what he was about to do was a good idea, “Ah don't know if you know this, but we're in good ‘ole Texas, and Colorado really ain't too far from where we're stationed. If ‘ya want, ah could drive ‘ya on over there.”

The BLU raised their head off the wall, eyes widening in surprise.

“You- you'd do that? For me? Why?” 

Engineer shrugged. “Ah feel bad fer ‘ya. ‘Sides, if you die, then they're gonna replace you with someone new, and ah rather prefer the enemy ah know to the enemy ah don't.”

The two mercenaries stared at one another for a long moment, the only sound being the cricket song coming from outside. Finally, the Chemist let out a dry, wheezing laugh, their teeth bared in a vicious grin.

“Good God I must be insane, trusting a RED.” They chuckled, “You know what? Sure, I'll take you up on that offer, cowboy.”

They reached forward and playfully tugged down the brim of Engineer's hat, causing him to lightly bat their hand away.

“Cream gravy! Alright, let's mosey on out then. Ah wanna be back before mah team starts wonderin’ where ah went.” He said, starting off in the direction of his truck, which was parked faithfully outside.

The Chemist plodded along behind him, and there were a few times where he had to glance back to make sure that they hadn't fallen behind too much. When they finally did make it to the truck, Engineer let them climb into the passenger seat while he nipped over to the trunk. Flipping it open, he pulled out an old, well loved blanket. It was black and white and gray striped, something he'd gotten for his childhood dog, Bucket. Bucket had been a fat, lazy beagle who did nothing but lounge around and bark at guests, but the man had loved him more than anything.

Bucket had passed away some time ago, but he'd never stopped taking the blanket along with him. Now, it would finally get to see some use again.

“Here,” he passed the blanket to the shivering Merc, “It ain't much, but it should help keep ‘ya from freezin’ over ‘till the heat kicks on.”

“T- Thanks.” The Chemist replied, gingerly taking the offered fabric. They thumbed the worn fabric, setting it across their lap.

“No problem.” Engineer replied, shutting the door to his side. 

For a moment, it almost sounded like one of the back doors had shut as well, and he looked back over his shoulder, eyes squinting in the low light. His gaze lingered for a moment, but when nothing revealed itself, he slowly turned back around and started up the truck.

“Ah’ve got a map in ‘m glove box. Pull it out and let's find that little town of yers.”

The Chemist nodded, and Engineer put the truck into drive.

It was going to be a long drive.

A couple of hours into their trek, the RED Engineer noticed that his passenger was starting to droop more than usual. Worse than that, he could hear their stomach growling like an ornery gator every few minutes.

Wordlessly, he eyed up the nearby fast food places before pulling off the road they'd been driving on. The Chemist didn't even seem to notice, too preoccupied with just staying somewhat awake.

“You up for a snack, Darl’?” He asked, gently nudging the BLU.

“Mnhm.” They mumbled back, “C’n I have m’ cheeseburger yet?”

“Sure, we can do a McDonald's run.” Engineer replied, turning into the nearest drive through.

He quickly placed an order for both his guest and himself, paying and grabbing the food before finding a spot to park.

“Here ‘ya go. One genuine American cheeseburger.” The Texan said, handing the Chemist their food.

The Chemist stared at the offered meal, gently cradling the wrapped burger in their hands, as though it were some sort of priceless treasure.

“Engie, I could genuinely suck your dick right now.” They said softly, before sinking their teeth into the cheeseburger, not even bothering to take off the wrapper.

The RED Merc’s face turned the same shade as his uniform, and he pulled down his hat to hide his rosey cheeks.

“Don't- y’ cant just-” he stumbled, trying to make words come out of his mouth properly, “Jesus, don't eat the wrapper!”

“Sorieh, ah can't heawr you.” The Chemist replied through a mouthful of cheeseburger and cheeseburger wrapper, “Ahm too buwsy eaghting.”

“At least slow down.” He muttered, tucking into his own food.

And yes, he did take the wrapper off, thank you very much.

“Yes, please do. I have no desire to see you hork down that disgusting slop like a wild beast.”

Both BLU and RED mercenaries choked as a third voice piped up from the back, scaring them out of their wits. 

“SPY!” Engineer whirled around as the Chemist hacked up their mouthful of food, the BLU thankfully having the wherewithal to stick their head out of the window, “What the hell do you think you're doing here?! How did you even get in mah truck?!”

“I followed you and slipped into the back when you were rooting around for that rag.” Spy replied, indicating to the blanket, which had halfway slipped down onto the floor. “What are you doing here, labourer? Having some sort of illicit affair with zhe enemy?”

“If- If you actually thought that,” the Chemist coughed, pounding on their chest, “then you hiding out in the back is super creepy, dude.”

“Yeah, well bein’ a creep is about all this one knows.” Engineer grit out, nostrils flaring like an enraged bull, “But usually, he knows better than to try that with me.”

“I was simply curious as to why you were sneaking off with someone who is supposed to be dead.” The masked man said, producing a cigarette from one of his pockets, “Zhe Administrator is not going to be pleased when she finds out you have been acting rather… friendly with each other.”

“Yeah, well, what is she gonna do, kill me?” The Chemist snarked. “If she wanted me dead, she wouldn't have let Pauling go ‘n get me. I must be worth more to her alive than dead.”

“She ain't got no eyes here anyway.” Engineer added, “Trust me. Ah personally go over every inch of mah equipment and vehicles at least once a week, t’ check for any bugs or cameras. Mah Betsy is as clean as a whistle.”

Engineer moved like a striking cobra, his prosthetic hand closing around Spy's suit jacket. The Frenchman dropped his cigarette as he was jerked forward, a flicker of fear coming over his face.

“And you, spook, ain't gonna breathe a damn word to Her ‘bout anything that happens on this trip, ‘cause if you do,” he tightened his grip, the metal components straining slightly under the pressure, “ah’ll know, and you won't like what happens next.”

Spy rolled his eyes, but both the Chemist and the Engineer could see that the man was sufficiently intimidated.

“Very well, I shall be silent about your little ‘road trip.’” he sneered, “And zhe Chemist's generous offer.”

“Great.” Engineer said cheerily through gritted teeth, “Ah can tell this is gonna be real fun.”

“Yippee.” The Chemist added dully, before taking another bite of their burger.

“Wh- TAKE OFF THE DAMN WRAPPER!”

Travelling with the RED Engineer had been surprisingly nice. It was almost like being back with your own Engineer, what with the southern man being so kind and polite to you, despite you both being on opposing sides.

Travelling with the RED Spy was not nearly as pleasant.

Him and the Engineer bickered almost constantly, and when they weren't bickering, Spy started semi-flirting, semi-picking on you, which usually led to yet another round of bickering.

Truly, it was almost like being stuck in a car with two overgrown toddlers.

“Is he always this insufferable?” You hissed to Engineer after Spy started listing off all the ways your outfit was offending the very concept of clothing.

“No.” Engineer sighed, looking very much like he'd like to drive all three of you into a ditch, “He's purposefully bein’ more of an ass than usual ‘cause you're here. Usually, he's a lot more quiet.”

“I'd like to see that.” You groused, before refocusing on the map in your lap. Your previous consumed cheeseburger and fries felt uncomfortably heavy in your weakened stomach, but they did help to restore some of your lost energy.

“Okay, it looks like we need to take a left in about 6 miles. We'll be turning onto Canyon Rd.” You read aloud, “We'll be on that one for a while.”

“It's real nice to have someone along who can actually read a map.” Engineer chuckled, “Usually, it's either Scout, Solly, or Pyro who rides with me into town every time we need t’ get supplies, and none ‘a them are any help when it comes to navigatin.’”

“Heh, yeah, mine aren't real great at that either.” You smiled, thinking of all the times you'd heard the three of them bickering on missions.

“Are zhose three good for anything besides destroying zhings?” Spy asked, lounging in the back like a smug cat.

“Sure.” You replied, not looking up from the map, “My Scout's actually really good at impersonating other people, Soldier is a baking whiz when it comes to bread, and Pyro can sniff out backstabbing French bastards like nobody else.”

Spy definitely didn't start pouting as Engineer started cackling like a madman, his shoulders shaking with mirth. You grinned at the sound, your own quiet chuckles joining in.

“Hooo-wee! They gotcha there, slim!” he laughed, wiping at his eye.

Spy glared. “I'm glad you find zhe idea of me dying so amusing, toymaker.” 

“Oh, lighten up, would you.” You glanced back over your shoulder to look at the masked man, “Are you seriously going to tell me you guys don't joke about killing us?”

“I don't joke about killing,” Spy sniffed, “I just kill.”

Engineer snorted as you rolled your eyes, turning back to your map. “Uh huh. Sure. Whatever you say, frog legs. Turn left up here, Engie.”

“No insulting names for zhe cowpoke?” Spy arched his brow.

“Considering he's been nothing but nice to me? No. Maybe if you turn your attitude around, I'll think of something nicer to call you, too.”

“I have no desire to be as, ah, close as you two seem to be.”

You gripped the seat as you whipped around again, eyes widened in anger-tinged disbelief. “Holy shit are you still fixated on that? What, do you want me to offer to suck you off too?!”

Spy recoiled back a bit, stiffening up as the exposed skin of his upper cheeks turned a shade of pink usually reserved for flowers. However,

He didn’t say no.

“Oh, my God.” You said, raising your brows as a smirk pulled the corner of your mouth upwards, “Oh, my God.”

“Merde, no, zhat’s not what I-”

“Well,” You relaxed your grip on the seat and folded your arms, tilting your head slightly as you watched Spy squirm, looking every bit like the cat that got the cream, “you’d have to be very nice to me to get that sort of offer.”

“Je vais t'éviscérer comme un poisson si tu continues à parler!”

“Now, see, I don’t know what you just said, but it didn’t sound very nice.” You turned back around, barely holding in your laughter, “No blowjob offer for you. I guess you won’t have to share, Engie.”

“Well don’t that beat all?” Engineer replied playfully, “You sure yer team won’t mind, though?”

“The way I see it,” You said, readjusting the blanket the man had given you, “you have gone out of your way to bring me back to them, and you let me actually eat the cheeseburger you bought me. They can suck it up.”

“Sounds like you’ll be the one suckin’.” The Texan murmured under his breath, too quiet for you to hear.

“What was that?”

“Nothin!” Engineer replied, “Just talkin’ t’ m’self.”

“Is that a thing all engineers do?” You asked, “My Engie does that too, usually when he’s working on something.”

“Maybe. Mah Pa used to do it fer sure.” The RED Merc shrugged, “Wait, does yer Engineer let y’all into his workshop?”

“Well, he let’s me and Pyro in.” You said, recalling all the times you and the firebug had hung out in the space, “Sometimes Medic is allowed in, but everyone else gets the boot, unless he calls them in to help him with something.”

“Interesting.” Spy said, apparently having recovered from his embarrassment enough to speak, “Zhis one has barred us all from entering his sacred domain. Not even our Chemist get’s zhat privilege. You must mean quite a bit to him.”

“If y’all didn’t go ‘round putin’ yer grubby mitts all over everything, maybe I would let y’ in.” Engineer smacked the steering wheel, frustration in his tone, “Honestly, it’s like herdin’ cats when I let y’all anywhere near mah stuff! ‘Sides, don’tcha remember what happened the last time I let someone play around with mah equipment, Spy?”

“Oui.” Spy shuddered, “I don’t zhink we will ever fully get zhe smell of bread yeast out of zhat base.”

“I’m sorry- bread yeast?” You shot the two RED members a confused look, “What does bread have to do with you not letting anyone near your stuff?”

“It’s a long story, but I suppose we got the time.” Engineer cleared his throat, “It all started one afternoon. We’d just got done killin’ yer team and makin’ off with yer Intelligence…”

Engineer and Spy’s wild tale of love, RED victory, and bread monsters kept you entertained for the next few hours or so, the three of you eventually getting sidetracked by various other topics. By the time the sun started to rise over the Colorado horizon, the conversation had switched to being about everyone’s favourite foods.

“Look, there ain’t nothin’ better fer breakfast than a nice cup’ a coffee, bacon ‘n eggs with a side of buttered toast, biscuits, and sausage gravy ‘n grits.” Engineer said, voice full of confidence.

“I think I would actually explode if I ate all of that.” You stuck out your tongue, feeling ill at just the thought of eating so much food. If this man ate like that every morning, then it was no wonder that he sported such a plump figure in comparison to most of his other teammates.

Not that you were complaining.

“I agree, mon petit saphir.” Spy said, curling his lip. “Zhat is a disgusting amount of food for zhe very first meal of zhe day.”

“Ooh, whatever that name was, it sounded a lot nicer.” You said teasingly. “See? I knew you could do it!”

“Well would ‘ya look at that? You actually got him to simmer down.” Engineer grinned, ducking when Spy swiped irritably at his head, “Maybe you should come join up with RED. We could probably stash you away somewhere, hand y’ over to Spy when we need him to settle.”

You laughed, imagining yourself with a little service animal harness. “Tell you what, If my team decides to murder me for dying again right in front of ‘em, I’ll switch sides.” 

“Heh, partner, you’ve got yerself a deal.” Engineer stuck out his hand, and you gripped it, giving it the best shake your weak arms could manage. 

“It seems as zhough you’ll be making your decision sooner rather zhan later.” Spy leaned forward and pointed at an upcoming road sign, which read “Limon Welcomes You!”

“Oh SHIT we’re here!” You sat forward quickly, before wincing and holding your head, “Oh, woof, headrush. That was a bad idea.”

“Good Lord, this place has seen better days.” Engineer said, gazing at the many fallen tree branches and damaged buildings, “Where did you say y’all were stayin’ again?”

“We sheltered in an old garage near the outskirts of town.” You replied, wincing at the amount of damage you saw, “I hope they haven’t gone too far, but I wouldn’t blame them for wanting to get away as soon as possible.”

“I doubt zhey wanted to linger around your charred corpse.” You nodded grimly at Spy’s comment, not particularly looking forward to seeing it yourself, but needing to check if your team was still around.

Soon enough, the three of you pulled up to the abandoned mechanic shop. The building looked even worse than when you had last seen it, and the lack of nearby vehicles did not make you feel particularly hopeful that you would find your team here. Still, your temporary RED companion pulled over and hopped out of his truck, putting a steadying hand on your shoulder when he saw you struggling to maintain your balance. Spending so many hours sitting down did not help your already weak legs to support your weight. Stepping inside the building proper, you were careful to avoid the downed utility pole and various cables. Only a few feet away from the door lay an unmoving mass with a familiar colour scheme.

Seeing your own dead body never got any less unsettling. Usually, it was blown into unrecognizable pieces, or shot so full of bullet holes that it resembled red and blue swiss cheese, but this time it was wholly intact, save for the skin that had burned and blackened from the intense heat of the electricity that had rocketed through your body. The stench of burnt clothes, hair, skin, and the early stages of rot permeated the still air, and you quickly tugged your respirator on in disgust. 

“Eugh, thank God I ate earlier, because I think I just lost my appetite.” You scrunched your nose, pulled down your goggles over your eyes, and began gathering chemicals from the various pockets and vials on your person. “Step outside, gentlemen, I’ll have this gone in a moment.”

The two RED’s quickly nodded and left, eager to get away from the smell and knowing exactly how dangerous your materials could be.

After a few minutes and a decent amount of hydrogen fluoride and antimony pentafluoride later, you emerged from the workshop’s interior to see Engineer kneeling on the ground, looking at some tire tracks that you hadn’t noticed before.

“Looks like they turned themselves ‘round and went back the way they came. They’re probably takin’ one’a the nearby backroads.”

“Think you can catch up to them?” You asked, praying that you wouldn’t have to return to your new base without your team. You wouldn’t be able to make it by yourself, and you doubted that the rest of the RED team would be as kind and hospitable as their Engineer had been.

The Texan gave you a sharp grin as he pushed himself up, dusting off his overalls.

“Do sheep wear sweaters? Hop in, and ah’ll show ‘ya just how fast ol’ Betsy can be.”

If you asked Florence if she knew her mercenaries well, you’d probably end up with a bullet in your skull, because you were not supposed to know about her mercenaries. Well, technically, they were Reliable Excavation & Demolition and Builders League United’s mercenaries, and, really, the Administrator’s above even them, but she was the one who scouted them out, checked in on them, interacted with them, gave them their assignments, and helped cover up their fuck ups. 

So, yeah, they were her mercenaries. And you weren’t supposed to know about them, so now you’re lying in a shallow grave after getting very well acquainted with her hacksaw.

But if she pondered your question after the fact, then she’d say that, yeah, she did. She’d spent almost all of her very limited free time around them for the last few years, after all, and she kept an eye on them through the various hidden cameras almost as much as her boss did. She knew both teams equally well, easily picking out each of their many similarities, as well as all their little quirks and differences. For example, she knew that the RED Scout had far more freckles than the BLU one. She knew that the BLU Soldier was actually slightly more tame than his counterpart, and that he wore earplugs more often than not, though he is dedicated to never ever letting anyone find out. She knew that both Pyro’s were afraid of the dark, and she knew the exact brand of cigarettes the Spies liked to order.

She knew that both teams were full of loud, borderline rabid, bat-shit insane lunatics that enjoyed the thrill of killing almost as much as she did, maybe even more. She knew, from experience, just how difficult it was to get most of them to quiet down.

Which is what made the situation she was in so damn eerie.

She was back in Spy’s car, having taken the now available passenger seat. Her eyes kept flicking to the neatly folded blanket in Spy’s lap, its minky blue fabric still damp from the rain. The car was silent, save for the occasional muffled wheeze from Pyro, who had just about cried themself hoarse. Medic was sitting next to the arsonist, hands folded as he stared out the window. To a regular onlooker, he likely would have appeared chillingly nonchalant or uncaring. However, as has been established, Florence Pauling personally knew the men she hired to kill each other, and so she was able to see the little cracks in the man’s facade; the way his lips twitched occasionally, like they almost started to wobble before he caught himself, the slow, controlled breaths he was taking, the way his eyes were wet behind his glasses.

Spy was much the same; a perfect picture of poise and aloofness, unless you knew where to look. His suit had been left lightly rumpled, his expensive leather gloves creaked when his hands shifted, showing just how hard he was gripping the wheel, and his mouth was set in an unnaturally tense line. Occasionally, one of his hands would release their death grip on the steering wheel and slip down to feel the blanket in his lap, gently rolling the fabric between his thumb and forefinger.

None of them spoke. 

What was there to say? What could any of them possibly say to make this situation better? 

What could she say? ‘Sorry for your loss, let me fax you those application forms Medic shredded?’ ‘I know you’re mourning, but we need to hurry up and get back so you can all go back to killing the RED team, which still has their Chemist?’ 

No, silence was the better option here by far.

The purple-clad woman leaned back in her seat, head resting against the window as she committed to memory the sound of a tired yet happy voice saying her name, and the feeling of gloved hands pushing her back towards safety. It was better to think of that, rather than the sight of the BLU Chemist’s body spasming wildly before collapsing to the ground, their smoking body giving a few last jerking, dying nerve reactions. 

As she stared out into the vast, dusty nothingness of the New Mexico landscape, something odd began to appear in the corner of her vision. At first, she thought it was a mirage, a strange flash of red in an otherwise sky blue and sand yellow landscape. 

But then it didn’t go away. 

In fact, it actually began to get bigger, becoming clearer and more defined as whatever it was drew closer. On instinct, she reached for the radio and tuned it to a specific frequency, drawing confused looks from her fellow passengers.

“Guys, I don’t want to alarm you, but something’s coming at us. Fast.” she said, leaning in close to the speaker.

“What zhe hell?” Spy said from her left, taking his eyes off the road to squint towards the horizon.

Pyro and Medic peered outside as well, squeezing in close so they could both get a look at the strange thing that was approaching.

“Sniper, can you get eyes on that thing?” Engineer asked over the radio.

Yeah mate. Just gimme a sec.” came the marksman’s reply.

Turning around in her seat, the raven could see Sniper’s van through the rear window. The man was in the passenger seat now, holding up his rifle and peering through the scope. After a moment, he jerked back, a look of shock on his face. He ducked his head back down to look again, as though he wasn’t sure he’d seen something right. In the driver’s seat, Heavy, who had taken the wheel, gave his teammate a confused and slightly concerned look.

Sniper lowered his rifle after another few moments passed, sliding back into his seat as he shouted something to Heavy, who’s confusion visibly deepened. The Russian did a double take when the marksman said something else, and he quickly said something back to the Australian, who shook his head and pointed out towards the still encroaching… whatever it was.

“Sniper wants team to slow down.” Heavy relayed, his tone making it clear that he wasn’t onboard with the idea. “Says that he… believes he saw leetle Chemist.”

“Oh joy,” Spy snarled, baring his teeth in clear disdain as he spoke into the radio, “our Sniper has finally lost it. I knew too much time spent in zhat deathtrap of his would eventually get to him.”

“Ah hate ‘t say it, but ah agree with Spy. We all- we all saw what happened to ‘em. Even if they survived comin’ back again, they'd have died of exposure, thirst, or starvation by now.” Engineer added glumly, “‘Sides, how in the Sam Hill would they get all the way out here? Snipes, ah think you should maybe go lie down for a bit while we deal with whatever's chasin’ us.”

“What is that?” Pauling asked in a low whisper, rolling down her window to get a better view.

Tuning out the sound of fully grown men bickering behind her, she focused on the anomaly. It was a bright, almost familiar shade of red, and it was kicking up quite a bit of dust as it moved across the desert. Pushing herself slightly out of the window, she picked up on the faint sound of… an engine?

Wait a damn minute.

Wait a Goddamn fucking minute.

Faster than a striking rattlesnake on cocaine, Pauling whipped her phone out and began dialing, holding it up to her ear. After a few rings, a man answered in a thick, smug-sounding Southern drawl.

“Why hello Miss Pauling! To what do ah owe the pleasure?”

“Engie, you fucking asshole!” Florence screeched, getting a confused, offended yell from the BLU Engineer, who could still hear what was being said over their shared transmission, “Did you seriously find the BLU Chemist and not tell me?! Do you know how mad the Administrator was going to be at me?!”

She could hear the RED Spy's telltale snorting cackles in the background of the call, while his BLU counterpart looked the farthest thing from amused.

“Qu'est-ce que c'est? Il vaut mieux que ce ne soit pas une mauvaise blague, sinon je jure devant Dieu que je tâcherai de rouge le sable autour de moi.” he growled as he began to slow down, shooting a deadly glare at what was now obviously a RED vehicle, likely their Engineer's truck.

“Woah now lil’ missy, we didn't mean any harm by it. You were outta range back at the base, and ah just figured it'd be easier to just deliver ‘em right to ‘ya.” The RED chuckled, “Iffen y'all are lookin’ t’ shoot us as soon as we come near, though, then we can always keep ‘em. They make pretty good company, and ‘ah know Spy likes ‘em well enough to help vouch for ‘em to the rest of the team.”

“Shoot you, what are you-” the young woman turned around, spotting several members of BLU pointing their weapons at the approaching REDs, “Scout, Soldier, Sniper! Put your guns away- Engie DROP IT!” 

The other Texan had been gearing up to toss down a mini sentry, but paused at his boss’s shout. Disgruntled, he acquiesced, dropping the beeping little robot back down onto the seat.

“Now that's a might bit better. Chem, you wanna take over communications?” The RED Engineer said, before sounds of rustling fabric and a quiet ‘Thank you!’ came over the line.

“Hey, P.” Pauling could almost hear the smile in the other's voice, something that was rather impressive, given the explosion of noise that came over the radio at the sound, “Guess who's two for two on kicking Death's ass?”

“Hello, Chemist.” She replied softly, smiling back, “Are you alright?”

“Oh yeah, I'm fine!” The mercenary replied quickly, sounding tired, but cheerful, “These two have been great company. Well, Engie has, at least- Spy I'm kidding- and guess what? I finally got my cheeseburger!”

“Zhose are not vhat you should be eating!” Medic chastised from the back, “Zhey are nothing but empty calories! 

“Shut up! I was hungry, and Sniper didn’t let me have mine!”

“Chem,” Pauling interrupted, not wanting to be caught in the middle of another argument, “I’m happy you’re alive, really, I am, but how did you get here?”

“Oh, I Respawned at the new base. I guess the system kicked on because the other team was already there.” the Chemist explained, “I tried calling you, but it didn’t go through, so Engie offered to take me so I didn’t, you know, curl up and die.”

“I… wow, that was really nice of him.”

“Yeah, it was. I seriously owe him for this. I’ll have to buy him a nice dinner some time, or, uh,” they snickered, clearly trying to muffle their laughter, “do something for him.”

Florence got the feeling that she was missing something here.

Judging by the intense glares and scowls Medic, Spy, and likely Pyro were directing towards the truck, which was now close enough for her to pick out details, she knew she wasn’t the only one who picked up on the Chemist’s friendly tone.

“Whatever it is you two end up doing, just remember that, if you want me to not have to rat you out, the Administrator cannot know about it, which means I can’t know about it.” the purple-clad woman stressed.

“I would certainly like to know what zhat cow-boy analphabète believes our Chemist shall be doing for him.” Spy muttered lowly, finally bringing the car to a stop as the RED Engineer’s truck parked on the dusty scrubland a few feet away from them.

“No fighting guys. We don’t need anyone else having to risk not coming back.” Florence warned.

Like a pack of stalking wolves, the nine BLU mercenaries leapt out of their respective vehicles and formed an almost defensive group, most of them having only heard bits and pieces of the phone call, but understanding that they were not here to fight. They walked with an air of tenseness, hands flexing as they resisted the urge to reach for their weapons, clearly feeling uneasy in this unprecedented situation.

Still, there was a clear feeling of nervous excitement. The emotional whiplash of the past few hours had left their emotions raw and more sensitive than usual. All of them stopped when the passenger door of the dusty red truck opened with a soft ‘click!’, the wearily smiling face of their teammate popping up over the metal as they shuffled carefully towards the road.

“CHEM!” Scout yelled, unable to hold himself back anymore. A fond smile made its way onto Pauling’s face as she watched the young Bostonian dash over and scoop the other mercenary up, spinning them around for a moment before gently setting them back down on their feet.

Like deadly, man-slaughtering ducklings, the rest of BLU followed after, warmly welcoming their missing friend back into the fold. Medic was on the Chemist in an instant, examining them while asking more questions than was probably necessary. Soldier gave them what was likely meant to be a gentle pat on the back, but which ended up nearly sending poor Y/N to the ground. 

Meanwhile, Pauling, Spy, and Engineer moved to greet the RED team members, who were stepping out of the vehicle themselves. The two men at Pauling’s side kept their professional appearances well, but she knew they’d like nothing more than to give into their instincts and go for their counterparts’ throats.

“Hey guys,” Florence started, hoping to make this conversation as smooth and bloodshed-free as possible, “thank you so much for bringing the Chemist back. I’ll arrange for your team to get a bonus or something for this, I promise.”

“Aw shucks,” the RED Engineer replied, tipping his hat, “it weren’t no trouble. Ahm sure y’all woulda done the same if y’ were in our shoes.”

“But of course.” the BLU Spy responded, “We’re mercenaries, not monsters.”

“What you are is lucky. Your Chemist should have never survived zhe first time, let alone a second.” the opposite colour Frenchman said, producing a cigarette to light, “Tell me, has your team figured out why Respawn went down?”

The BLU Engineer frowned. “Can’t say we have. I reckon y’all haven’t either, then?”

“Unfortunately not. It's got our team all twisted up with worry, ‘specially our Chemist. The stress has been makin’ her feel just plum awful these past few days.” the crimson-clad Texan sighed, pushing up his goggles to pinch the area between his eyes, “To be honest wit ‘ya, ah’d somewhat hoped that travelin’ with yer one might’a given me some answers, or at least an idea of what went wrong, but ah couldn’t find one single tell. If yer feelin’ amicable enough, ah’d like to work with ya t’ find the problem, so we can all stop bein’ so damn nervous.”

“Hmm.” the BLU Engineer hummed, resting a hand on his chin before glancing over at his boss, “Would that be alright, Miss Pauling?”

Florence adjusted her glasses and nodded. “Usually it wouldn’t, but under these circumstances, I’m sure the Administrator will understand.”

Suddenly, she jumped, remembering something.

“Oh, shit! Guys, we actually need to get going! I need to give the RED Chemist a contract and, like, a thousand other things that have been piling up since I’ve been gone.” She said apologetically, before turning to the RED team members, “Do you two mind if I ride back with you?”

“‘Course not.”

“It’s always a pleasure to have you around, mademoiselle.”

“Okay, great!” the raven said, smoothing down her skirt. She looked over at her companions, tilting her head slightly, “You’ll be fine getting back, right?”

They nodded, and started walking back over to rejoin their teammates. They explained that their employer wouldn’t be coming back with them, and, to her surprise, Chemist pulled away from the rest of the BLUs, walking as fast as they could over to her.

“Hey, I just wanted to ask if you were alright before you left.” The goggle-wearing chemist said, their worry clear in their voice as they laid a hand on her shoulder, “You were pretty close to that powerline too, and I wasn’t sure if you’d gotten injured or not.”

“I’m fine, Chem.” Florence reassured, giving her friend a smile, “My clothes are going to smell like burned cloth and skin for a bit, but that’s it. You got me out of the way in time. Thank you, for that, by the way.”

The Chemist inclined their head, smiling back before turning their attention to the two RED Mercs. “You two get her back safe, understand? I’d hate to have to kill you permanently after all this.” they joked, pointing a ‘stern’ finger at them.

The RED Engineer raised his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t worry, Darl’, she’ll get there right as rain.”

He stepped forward, took the white cowboy hat off his head, and plopped it down onto the Chemist’s, tugging it down gently to secure it.

A few feet away, the other Engineer’s mechanical hand nearly crushed his gun as he shot daggers at his counterpart. 

“Y’ can give me that back when y’all finally show up at the base.” he smirked, “And, iffen yer still up for it, ah think I’ll take ‘ya up on that offer of yours from earlier.”

The Chemist turned a very interesting shade of pink as they tipped the brim of the hat up slightly, revealing that their pupils were blown wide.

“Mnhm, sounds good.” they replied softly, before spinning on their heels and making a beeline for their teammates. 

“I-” Florence started, before cutting herself off, 

“You know what? It’s better if I don’t know what that’s all about.”

You watched as the RED Engineer, Spy, and Miss Pauling drove off, waving to them as best you could.

“Well, ain’t you ‘n them real close.” Engineer said in a tight voice. While it was quite hard to tell where the man was looking most of the time, you got the distinct feeling that he was staring at your new accessory.

“I had to listen to them argue for, like, half the trip.” You replied, “If you come out of that having not murdered them or killed yourself, then it's because you learned to like them.”

“Kinda sounded like you didn’t just like ‘em.” Scout pouted, crossing his arms, “What the hell did youse three get up to?”

“Well let’s see.” You raised your hand, ticking off your fingers as you recounted your joyous road trip shenanigans, “I got the ever loving shit scared out of me by the RED Spy, melted my own corpse, got a cheeseburger so absolutely scrumptious I offered to suck off the RED Engineer,”

“You did what now?!” your Engineer yelped.

“I listened to two fully grown men bicker like toddlers, got regaled with a tale of bread monsters, got my outfit called every French insult under the sun, and passed out from, like, severe malnutrition, probably.” You finished.

“Uh, can we walk that back a couple’a steps, mate?” Sniper asked, flushing pink.

“What, you mean the bread monster? Yeah, no, I didn’t believe it at first either, but Spy swears-”

“Not the bloody bread monster, ya daft tit!” Demo groaned, slapping a hand onto his face, “Why the bleedin’ hell are ya offerin’ t’ give our enemy a gobble?!

“Dear GOD, have they brainwashed you?!” Soldier gasped suddenly, “I swear, I will hunt down each and every one of those communist RED bastards if they so much as touched-”

“Woah, woah, woah!” You rushed to clear up the misconception, “Easy, Sol! No one did anything to me, I promise. I’m still one hundred percent me.”

“Zhen vhy…?” Medic questioned, coughing into his gloves as he trailed off.

“It started as just a joke, honestly. I wasn’t seriously thinking about acting on it at first, but when their Spy accidentally revealed that he was jealous, I started thinking about it a little bit more.” You shrugged, “Plus, well… he’s hot! And he’s nice! And he’s clearly into the idea, so… why not?”

“Why not? Why not?” Spy growled, “Because you are ours! You wear zhe same uniform and kill zhe same men as us! You are a member of BLU, and your standards should be higher zhan zhe first, non, not even zhe first, man who shows even zhe slightest interest in you! Il n’y a aucune raison de se prostituer à ce gros, analphabète Texan!”

You threw your hands up into the air, letting out your own growl of annoyance.

“Look, unless one of you is going to help me take care of my needs when I’m better, I’m walking my ass over to that pretty little base they have!” You stated firmly, crossing your arms and tilting your chin up in a petty, almost defiant way. “Maybe I’ll even proposition the rest of ‘em, I don’t know!”

“Oh my freakin’ GOD!” Scout yelled, “We are literally right here! I don’t know a guy on this team that wouldn’t fuck you if you just asked!”

There was a moment of silence after that sentence, the Bostonian’s words echoing slightly in the empty desert scrubland. The ten of you all stood there, turning red from something that wasn’t the harsh New Mexico sun.

Heavy made a sound first, awkwardly clearing his throat. 

“Scout is- what is word- tactless, but he is also… not wrong.”

“Er, yeah,” Sniper scratched at the back of his neck, “the big guy's got it right. It's just we, uh…”

“Mh muph mmnmnh mhmh.” Pyro finished, talking animatedly with their hands.

“The arsonist is correct.” Spy agreed, still looking a bit flustered under his mask, “This is far from something that is easily brought up.” 

You blinked slowly at your team, absorbing the information. Now, technically, you'd heard this all before, right before you'd died, but hearing it again solidified it in your mind as being real. 

“Well shit.” You swore, planting your hands on your hips, “We all could have been a lot happier ages ago, huh?”

The gathered mercenaries made various sounds of awkward agreement.

“Okay, we definitely need to talk about this, and I mean a real conversation, not all of us standing around like idiots, cooking our brains in the sun while we all blush over the fact that you'd all like a piece of me.” You said, “But I think I'd rather talk in the comfort of our base, wouldn't you all agree?”

Your teammates nodded in agreement, dispersing into their chosen groups as they started back towards your vehicles.

“Yo, Chem, you ridin’ with us?” Scout asked hopefully, hooking his arm beneath yours instinctively as you wobbled slightly. He looked as though he was still feeling a bit hot under the collar, but was doing his very best to keep your conversation casual. 

“Sorry, Scout, but I think I’m gonna pass out soon if I don’t lay down.” you admitted. “I promise I’ll spend some time with you when we get back. Maybe I could help you pack when I’m feeling a bit better?”

“Don’t even worry ‘bout it. You should focus on gettin’ bettah first.” Scout replied, leading you towards Sniper’s campervan, “‘Sides, I already packed up most of my crap, and I think Pyro handled your stuff, so you can just take it easy. Pretty sure the Doc is gonna make you stay in the Medbay, anyway.”

“Scout is correct, mein Chemiker.” Medic piped up, matching your slow, careful stride as he came up beside you, “Now don’t give me zhat face; it vill only be for a few days. I just want to ensure that jou are okay after going through Respawn again in jour state.”

Your expression, which had been one of pouty, light annoyance at being forced into mandatory bedrest in the Medbay, softened a bit. You could hear the genuine concern in the German’s voice, and you knew he had good reason to be. You yourself were worried that something might have gotten messed up, and you knew you were due for another round of supplement shots.

Still, it was going to suck to not be in your own room, surrounded by your familiar comforts. You knew that you’d have a lot of pent up energy by the time you got out.

Huh, actually… you could think of a few fun ways to burn off any excess energy.

“Okay, Doc, I’ll come to my appointment, I promise.” you said, smiling, “But this time, I get to choose the operating room music. You’re not cutting me open to Lili Marlén again.”

“But jou said zhat jou enjoyed it last time! Lale Andersen has zhe voice of ein Engel.” Medic pouted.

“Yeah, but if you keep playing it while you're dissecting my spleen, I’m always going to associate it with getting picked apart like a biology student’s frog.” you explained, “I won’t pick anything too bad, swear on my good beakers!”

“Hmph, I vill hold you to zhat.” the doctor warned teasingly, “Zhere vill be no more ‘Sugar Pie Honey Bunch’ in my operating room.”

“Ugh, you’re so boring.” you teased right back, sticking your tongue out at the man as Scout handed you off to Sniper, who had a fond, lopsided smile on his face. “Hey there, Stretch. Mind helping me to the bed?”

“Not at all, mate.” Sniper replied, laying a warm, sturdy arm across your shoulders, “Not at all.”

Sure enough, after around two weeks of being kept in the Medbay upon your return, your prediction of being just about ready to explode with unreleased energy had proven to be true. Your organs had actually suffered a bit of damage this time around, which had necessitated a longer stay. On top of that, you had needed to move to the new base midway through your treatment, which hadn’t helped things. However, this also meant that Medic could focus on accelerating your healing, and by the time you pranced out of those swinging double doors, you were feeling like your old self again.

Scout and Soldier were waiting there for you, just as they had been on the day you’d failed to come back.

“Heyyyyy, there you are! Freakin’ finally.” Scout whooped, bringing you into a tight hug. You returned it, squeezing back with all your regained strength, “Oof! Yup, you’re bettah alright!”

“Sure am.” you grinned, before releasing the Bostonian to tackle Soldier, who grinned and crushed you to his chest.

“It’s good to have you back in fighting shape, private! Your presence has been missed on the battlefield.” he said, patting you in between your shoulder blades, “Also, I just missed you.”

“I missed you too, Solly.” you replied, knocking your forehead against his helmet gently, “Show me around the base? I saw a bit of it when I Respawned here, but I wasn’t exactly taking in all the finer details.”

“Of course!” Soldier set you down, taking the lead as you, him, and Scout headed off down the hall.

He gave you a tour of the base and the battleground, loudly and excitedly chattering about all the great places to set up ambushes and assaults that this new location provided. You nodded along, adding your own ideas occasionally as you took in your surroundings, inhaling a lungful of warm, apple-scented air for the first time without pain. In a few days, the RED Chemist would be returning from her contract, and you would be returning to the fray, but for now you got to revel in the relative peace of the time between battles.

Eventually, Soldier led you to the barracks, showing you to your room. It had been partially set up; your bed was made and your uniforms had been hung up in your closet, but your casual clothes and personal belongings had been left in their moving boxes. You smiled softly when you flipped open the first box and spotted Pyro’s drawings sitting on top. The firebug had added a few new ones, depicting a healthy you and them frolicking through a shimmering candyland, or petting beautiful unicorns. You snorted with laughter at one of the last ones, which showed you and Pyro sitting aside a golden, fire-breathing dragon, flying high above the base, the arsonist flipping off the RED Spy and Engineer, who were being roasted by the beast.

Speaking of…

“Hey, has anyone seen my hat?” you asked Soldier and Scout, who were peering into one of your, currently empty, terrariums. The two mercenaries glanced at each other.

“Uh, I think Engie took it.” Scout rubbed his chin, “Kept mutterin’ something about the ‘cowboy hat rule.’ He sounded real pissed about it too.”

You tilted your head and frowned. “Cowboy hat rule? What the hell is that?”

“Dunno.” Scout shrugged, “You’d have to ask Hardhat.”

“Maybe I will.” you said, putting the drawings down, “Where is he?”

“The grease monkey is in his workshop!” Soldier said helpfully, “I saw him go in there before I went to wait for you.”

“Perfect,” you smiled, “I’ll be back soon, fellas. Oh, actually, could you two do me a favour?”

The men nodded.

“Tell the others I’d finally like to have that conversation we talked about.” you winked, stepping out the door, “We’ll talk at dinner, yeah?”

Slipping out into the hallway proper, you left two very warm-cheeked mercenaries behind.

“What are the chances we actually score tonight, you think?” Scout asked, biting his lip slightly.

“If Engie doesn’t make ‘em mad?” Soldier grinned, tipping up his helmet slightly, “I’d say I like our odds.”

“God, he bettah not screw dis up.” Scout huffed, folding his arms, “I hope he’s smart enough to just give Chem that hat.”

“Ah ain’t givin’ you that hat.”

The Texan and the Chemist stood almost chest-to-chest, locked in a standoff. Engineer folded his arms and fixed his colleague with the firmest look he could muster, standing absolutely resolute in his decision.

Chemist set their jaw, squinting in annoyance.

“Engie,” they started, voice firm and tone indicating that they were done with this argument, “that hat was a temporary gift. I need to give it back. I don’t know why you’re being such an ass over this, but-”

“Because it ain’t a gift!” the man finally shouted, gritting his teeth.

Chemist reeled back as if they’d been struck, shocked at the man’s outburst. They blinked, then slowly shifted to a more passive stance.

“Okay, clearly I’m missing something here, and it’s making you upset.” they said, backing up a step to give Engineer some much needed space, “Mind filling me in? Does it have something to do with that ‘cowboy hat rule’ Scout mentioned?”

“It has everything to do with that.” Engineer sighed, deflating slightly as his anger returned to a very low simmer, “A cowboy’s hat is considered an extension of his body, a real special article of clothin’. If he puts it on someone’s head, or if someone takes it and puts it on, then that’s basically the same as sayin’ yer real interested in ‘em. The ‘rule’ is basically that if you wear the hat, y’gotta ride the cowboy.”

He folded his arms again, looking into Chemist’s wide eyes. “Him puttin’ that hat on ‘ya like he did and bein’ all flirtatious was almost like him brandin’ you; a real bold move to pull right in front of all of us. You bein’ so friendly ‘n receptive ‘bout it all was just salt in the wound, and now he’s been down right gloatin’ about it ever since we got here!”

Chemist winced, rubbing at the back of their neck. “Aw, jeeze, I’m- I’m sorry, Engie. I didn’t realize how much that might bother you. This has really been eating at you, huh?”

“It has.” he confessed, feeling slightly ashamed by just how much it bothered him, “Ah know yer a grown adult, and ah obviously can’t control what ‘ya do in yer free time, but as ahm sure you’ve figured out, we’re all rather fond of ‘ya, and I ain’t no exception. Seein’ you with him? And then having to work with ‘im these past few days?”

The man shook himself, scowling. “It’s like swallowin’ glass.”

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up outside of battle.” the other mercenary said, before reaching out and taking Engineer’s hands into their own, causing the Texan to jolt slightly in surprise, “Look, I might joke around sometimes, but I am one hundred percent loyal to BLU and everyone who’s a part of it. That other Engineer might get me once, but you can have me as many times as you like.” 

Chemist winked, and Engineer’s eyes widened like saucers, his mouth turning dry as cotton as any words he might have intended to say died in his throat. The other BLU leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek, and Engineer closed his eyes, burning the sensation into his mind as he swallowed.

“And if you’re still worried,” they whispered into his ear, “you can always leave your mark on me.”

“Careful, Darl’,” he growled lowly, wrapping a hand around their waist, enjoying the feeling of muscle and fat, “you don’t know what yer askin’ for.”

“Oh, I think I do.” they grinned ferally, nipping at the Southerner’s neck. Engineer inhaled sharply and let out a curse, tightening his hold when he felt a warm tongue lave the area lovingly.

Suddenly, the contact was gone, Chemist pulling away with a satisfied grin and leaving the poor Texan stunned.

“You can hang onto the hat for now, but I really do need it back.” they tapped his nose, causing him to blink, “Now, we’re all gonna have that little chat at dinner tonight, so don’t be late.”

And with that, they sauntered right back out the door they'd come through earlier, leaving Engie to try and collect himself. Eventually, he managed to shake himself out of his stupor, a grin coming across his face.

“Well, this ought to be mighty interestin’.”

The conversation at dinner had been, to absolutely no one’s shock, awkward as all hell to begin with.

Once everyone had gotten a plate of food in front of them to stare at when things got too uncomfortable, you started laying out basic ground rules. You stressed, through your many stutters, the importance of boundaries, consent and communication, and you made it very clear that if anyone was at all uncomfortable with what you were proposing, then they were more than welcome to voice that without judgement. You were firm as you warned that if you caught wind of anyone teasing or pressuring another teammate about this was going to lose any and all privileges, as well as getting a face full of acid at any given time. 

“Any objections or questions so far?” you asked, taking a bite of your dinner, which was macaroni and cheese.

“If ve’re really going to to zhis, I vould like to propose regular STD tests und use of condoms.” Medic said after a few moments of silence passed in the room, folding his hands in front of him, “Zhis isn’t exactly a closed relationship ve’re talking about here, und I for one vould feel a lot better vith zhat reassurance, zhough I know jou’re all clean as of right now.”

Everyone made noises of agreement. No one wanted to take that risk.

“Do we have to do stuff with everyone? ‘Cause, uh, I definitely ain’t cool with that.” Scout asked, rubbing his arm in discomfort.

“No, of course not.” you reassured, laying a comforting hand over his. “You’re free to be with whoever you want, and you certainly aren’t going to be forced into a relationship.”

Scout relaxed, some of the tension leaving his body. Around the table, a few others seemed to relax as well.

“We will have to keep zhis a well-kept secret. If zhe Administrator finds out, zhen I suspect we will be punished in some cruel and unusual manner.” Spy added, resting his chin on one hand.

“Yeah, she’s real good at that.” Soldier mumbled, still sore over the fact that he’d be tricked and threatened into breaking off the best friendship he’d ever had, one that still hadn’t recovered.

“So no flirting, or anything else, on the battlefield or during work hours.” you nodded, “We’ll save it for contracts, ceasefires, and late night meet ups, I suppose.”

Sniper raised his hand slightly, swallowing his mouthful of food. “And how exactly are we plannin’ on deciding who gets to do what, and when?”

“Scheduling.” you replied, having pondered that very same question, “We’ll come up with a schedule. You guys can draw straws or wrestle or something. I’ll leave how the order gets decided up to you.”

“Battle’s comin’ up in a few days.” Demo said, taking a sip of his Scrumpy, “How’s about we use our performances to decide?”

“Heavy likes that idea,” the large Russian man nodded, “it means I will be first.”

“Hey, woah, back it up, tons ‘a fun!” Scout protested, jabbing his fork in the other’s direction, “You musta hit yer head or somethin, cause everyone knows I’m gonna be the one comin’ out on top, as usual.”

“You? Do something aside from running your mouth and getting shot full of bullets? Please, don’t make me laugh.” Spy snarked, picking at his dinner while side-eying the Bostonian.

“Don’t get too cocky, Spook. God knows yer gonna end up on the hot end of the enemy Pyro’s flamethrower more often than not.” Sniper teased, “Meanwhile, I’ll be rackin’ up kills left ‘n right.”

“Hey Py, ah’ll share mah time if y’ team up with me.” Engineer offered, smirking when the arsonist mumbled in cheerful agreement, giving the Southerner a fistbump.

“Ooh, ve’re making alliances?” Medic perked up, “Heavy, team up with me, ja?”

“конечно, доктор.” 

“Oye, that ain’t fair!” Demo shouted, banging his fist down on the table, “Soldier, yer with me!”

“Affirmative!” the American saluted, “We are going to crush each and every one of your pansy asses!”

“This is bullshit!” Scout yipped, realizing that his teammates were absolutely willing to partner up if it meant having a better shot at first pick, “Yo, Snipes, we teamin’ up?”

“Bettah you then Spy.” the marksman leaned over the table and shook hands with the runner. “Alright, jackrabbit, let’s do this.”

“Feelin’ left out, Spy?” Engineer asked, reaching for his cup of sweet tea.

“Not at all.” came the Frenchman’s smooth reply, “I am confident enough in my abilities to not feel zhe need to rely on zhe help of another to win. Unlike you, toymaker, I am not willing to share my lovers.”

“Keep a good hold on that confidence ‘a yers.” the Texan chuckled, “You’ll need somethin’ t’ help repair yer shattered pride once you come dead last.”

You took another bite of your macaroni, enjoying the growing sense of… friendly competition. The next battle was going to be a bloodbath, and you absolutely could not wait to see it.

And, of course, you were very excited to see who came out as the victor.

The sound of gunfire and dying men was like music to your ears as you finally returned to the battlefield. Your limbs ached from the lack of use, and you could certainly feel the strain now, but you welcomed the pain, grinning into your mask as you lobbed another vial at a passing Scout, your smile widening as you snickered at his howls of pain.

Your team was dominating the battlefield today, each member striving to get the most amount of kills. The energy of the battle was even a little bit lighter than usual today, likely due to the fact that the mystery of the Respawn malfunction had finally been solved on the Sunday before the battle.

Apparently, according to Engineer, the issue had been caused by too many units being active at once, which all but confirmed your theory of other teams existing out in the world. It had nothing to do with you specifically, you’d simply been the unlucky bastard who had come through at the boiling point. The information had come as a huge relief, even if the answer had left you with quite a few questions. You would have to ask Miss Pauling about it the next time she came around the base, though you doubted you’d get any real answers. Something told you that, if the other teams had never been mentioned to any of you before, then you weren’t supposed to know about them.

Actually, maybe you should just keep your mouth shut this time. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction wouldn’t be enough to bring you back, if the Administrator decided to disable your Respawn capability.

Shaking your head, you dashed forward, side-stepping the sizzling corpse at your feet. Running across the dry Texas grass, you threw yourself against the side of the nearest building, a smaller, ramshackle barn at the edge of the treeline. From where you stood, you managed to catch a glimpse of Pyro, Soldier, and Engineer taking a new vantage point to set up a sentry, before the arsonist suddenly spun around, blasting a plume of flame at your helmeted friend. You winced, watching as the RED Spy’s illusion melted away, along with his skin.

Well, you supposed you wouldn’t be seeing too much of him today. That was a shame; the Frenchman could be surprisingly funny, when he wanted to be. You’d hoped to get a chance to tease him and see if you could make him blush again, or perhaps some part of you wanted to provide your own Spy with an easy kill.

Just as you started off towards your teammates, ready to help them secure the nearest point, you saw something whip over your head. Before you knew it, your arms were suddenly pinned at your sides, and you’d been tugged backwards, landing on your rump with a sharp yelp of pain. The white cowboy hat that you’d managed to get back from Engineer, which had been sitting snugly on your head, slipped down over your eyes as you were dragged back towards the trees, leaving you blind.

You panicked for a moment, struggling against the tight rope. However, you paused upon hearing a familiar voice, chills running up your spine, both from fear and from pleasure. A gloved hand plucked the hat off your head, the mechanical movement clicking softly in your ear. You tilted your head back, looking up at the man who was holding the lasso that had left you so defenseless.

“Hello there, Darl’.” The RED Engineer purred, leaning against the trunk of one of the apple trees, “Ready to make good on that offer?”

Annnnd that wraps up Respawn Malfunction! Again, big thanks to @pinkypiechar for reading along with me in the wee hours of the morning, keeping me motivated and catching any mistakes I made. You a real one pookie. <3