#thanks ya little boy scout

[roanofarcc]

FUNNY BUSINESS

pairing. tyler owens x boone’s sister!reader

summary. boone was a laid-back guy who only really had one, long-standing rule: his sister was off-limits to the wranglers. But tyler had a bad habit of rule-breaking.

 warnings. a curse or two, fem!reader, mentions of drinking/being drunk (not reader), suggestive jokes, bed-sharing.

word count. 4k || masterlist

“You’re the worst, you know that?” Dani said, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the side of the rig alongside Tyler and Boone. She and Tyler had their sights set on you as you concentrated on the options of the vending machine, oblivious to their attention. 

Boone furrowed his brows, having just been focused on the camera in his hands. “Who?” 

“You,” Dani answered. “You brought your hot sister all of the way out here to help us, and then tell us she’s off-limits. It’s cruel and unusual punishment, if ‘ya ask me.” 

A laugh bubbled up from Tyler’s throat, earning him a glare from Boone. “It’s not my fault none of you assholes can keep it in your pants.” 

It was Tyler’s turn to glare, playfully. “I’m a gentleman, Boone. Is it a crime to get to know her, you know, considering she’s a part of the team now?” 

With a sigh, Boone shook his head. “Just no funny business.” 

Tyler mock saluted. “Scouts honor.” 

Tyler was a gentleman; his momma had raised him as such. And despite his teasing, he did want to respect Boone’s words. But at the same time, you were the newest member of the Wranglers, and Tyler did want to get to know you since you’d be hanging around for at least that season. 

Boone had suggested to bring you on to help with the charity aspect of their storm-chasing. The t-shirt and other sales they made from their online audience went mostly to help victims of the storms they chased, and the rest went back into making the merchandise to sell. Boone said you’d be a good addition to help out with the business side of things, and he’d been right from what Tyler had seen so far. You were smart and quick, and were able to keep up with the rest of Wranglers as if you’d been a part of the team since the start. Tyler was impressed. 

But what really impressed him, was how caring you were. It was the first time you’d come along with them to help out a neighborhood that was hit hard by a tornado. Houses were leveled and the devastation was thick in the air from the moment they arrived. 

The Wrangler quickly got to work. Lily and Dexter started making sandwiches. Dani started walking around and passing out water bottles. Boone helped the injured to the ambulances that arrived. Tyler started making rounds, helping families find their missing pets or important objects in the rubble. But as he did so, he couldn’t help but watch you interact with the victims as well. 

A couple of kids from the neighborhood sat together in a clear patch of grass while their parents tried to salvage some of their belongings and figure out what to do next. They all looked teary-eyed, and faces pulled in frowns as they sat quietly, clutching stuffed animals or picking at the wet grass to distract themselves. You approached them, sitting down in the little circle they formed. 

Tyler couldn’t hear what you were saying to them, but your started to look more and more animated and the kids cracked small smiles. After a couple more moments, the kids’ moods looked to shift into something lighter despite the devastation around them. The somber air slowly became filled with giggles and kids’ voices overlapping excitedly. 

Tyler found himself smiling softly at the sight before he ventured over. “How’s it going over here?” he asked, earning your attention. 

“David here is telling us a very interesting story about a space alien,” you said, earning an enthusiastic nod from one of the younger boys in the circle. “You guys keep telling stories and I’m gonna go make sure no one else needs help, okay?” 

The kids all shared a series of ‘okays’ and ‘thank yous’ before you moved to stand up. Tyler outstretched his hand toward you, and you took it with a smile, letting him help you to your feet. Once you stood directly in front of him, he felt himself clam up slightly. He and Dani had made jokes in hopes of irritating Boone in regards to how attractive you were, but seeing you that close, in the after-storm sunlight, Tyler’s breath hitched in his throat. 

“Thanks,” you said, dropping your hand back at your side and gazing around at what else there was to be done in the neighborhood. 

He cleared his throat. “That was smart, keepin’ their minds off of…” he vaguely gestured around them, feeling a knot in his gut of pity for the poor families affected. 

You smiled sadly. “My parents used to do that with Boone and I. When we’d have to wait in the cellar, we’d all tell stories until the storm passed. The more outrageous the better,” you explained. 

“It seemed to work,” Tyler said, glancing at the circle of kids all sharing outrageous stories with laughter and smiles instead of the frowns they held a couple minutes ago. 

“Yeah, at least a little bit,” you said. There was a beat where Tyler didn’t know what else to say. Something over his shoulder caught your eye before you looked back to him and said, “I’m gonna go help Boone.” You sidestepped Tyler and left him in a slight daze. 

He whispered a string of curses under his breath once he was out of earshot of the kids, and hurried back to the camper where the Wranglers were handing out food. 

“I’ve got a problem,” he muttered to his friends. 

Lily handed out another sandwich before eyeing him oddly. “A problem-problem or a you-problem?” 

“A me-problem.” 

“Ah,” she said. “Shoot, cowboy.” 

“It’s Boone’s sister,” he whispered, ensuring that only Lily, Dexter, and Dani heard him. “She’s…”

“Attractive? Yeah, I thought we already established that?” Dani said, opening another case of water. 

Tyler rubbed his forehead, an odd feeling twisting around inside his stomach. “It’s not just that,” he said. “She’s pretty, sure, but-” 

Lily cut him off with slightly wide eyes. “Oh no,” she said. 

Dexter furrowed his brows. “Oh no? Oh no, what?” 

“Tyler only, and I mean only, calls women ‘pretty’ when he has a crush on them. Some ole’ woman at a bar that’s makin’ eyes at him, he’ll call her ‘attractive’ or ‘easy on the eyes’ never ‘pretty.’ Pretty he saves for the ones he’s got a big fat school-boy crush on. And normally that’s all fine and dandy, but this is Boone’s sister we’re talking about, Tyler.” 

He hated how well Lily knew him. She read him like a book. 

Dexter whistled lowly. “That’s unfortunate.” 

“What’s unfortunate?” Boone said, approaching the group with you beside him. All of the Wranglers, aside from you two, looked at Tyler, which was anything but helpful. 

Boone was one of Tyler’s best friends, and he knew it was the right thing to listen to him. Besides, Tyler hadn’t known you long so maybe his ‘school-boy crush,’ as Lily had put it, would fade once he got used to having you around. 

Clearing his throat, Tyler shook his head. “Nothin’ important,” he said. “Let’s pass the rest of this food out before we head out for the night.” 

You adored your brother’s friends more than you thought you would. You’d watch the Wranglers’ livestreams, but it was different being around them in person. Their passion for storm chasing was admirable and how they helped those affected by the very storms they were in awe of was amazing. 

When Boone asked you to help out, you jumped at the opportunity. You certainly didn’t regret your decision, but you greatly underestimated the charm of Tyler Owens. You’d read the comments online, all ogling at the storm chaser, but it wasn’t just his looks that made him incredibly attractive. Tyler’s charm entered everything he did and said, but it was especially enticing when he talked about storms. When he got particularly excited, he spoke with his hands, lips pulled in a grin that was ridiculously mesmerizing. You could have listened to him talk about the weather forever, which was a problem. 

It felt foolish on your part; not only was Tyler one of your brother’s best friends, but you thought he was miles out of your league. He had people practically drooling over him in the comments of his videos and making eyes the second he stepped into a building. He was a personality, wild and loud, but with a sweet side to make him even more likable. You told yourself the little crush would pass, but you worried that if Tyler kept being so damn nice to you, it’d be years before that happened. 

“So, this is how storm chasers spend their off time?” you said, propping your elbows up on the bar before something sticky touched your skin. You recoiled in a grimace. 

A chuckle sounded from Tyler as he handed you a napkin. “Here,” he said. “And yeah, it’s the perfect way to unwind. Though, word of caution, don’t drink too much. Storm chasing hung-over is a different kind of hell.” 

You wiped someone’s spilled drink from your elbows and nodded. “Noted.” There was still a lot you had to learn about the ins and outs of storm chasing, but you were excited to learn. A silence passed between you two, the space filled with the bar chatter. The place was busy for it being in the middle of nowhere; the Wranglers said it was because most people were either dedicated locals or fellow storm chasers looking to relax a little. 

Your brother and the rest of the team were at the old-timey jukebox, picking out songs that they then danced to, loud and rowdy as ever. But Tyler didn’t join them. Instead, he sat at the bar nursing a beer. Before you arrived, he was talking to an old man on the other side of him, cracking jokes like he’d known the stranger for years. 

It was like each minute you were there with them, you uncovered something else about Tyler. And maybe it was a couple of sips of alcohol that were already affecting your system but felt like he should know that. 

“You know, you’re a little different than I thought you’d be,” you admitted. 

He studied for a moment with a gaze that made you nervous, but not in a bad way. “Oh yeah? How’d you think I was gonna be?” 

You shrugged. “I watch the lives, mostly to make sure Boone is okay, but online you seemed…” You weren’t sure of what the right word to use was. You settled on, “More intense, I guess.” 

A smirk crept across his lips. “And I am not intense enough for ‘ya?” 

Your face felt hot, and the busy bar wasn’t helping. You adverted your eyes down to your drink and tried to laugh off your fluster. “I just mean, I thought you’d be like all of the time. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to keep up and you’d all think I wasn’t a good fit.” 

The smirk fell from Tyler’s face and was replaced with a furrow of his brows. “Are you crazy?” he said. “We needed someone like you on our team. I know you just started, but I think you’re the best fit we could’ve picked.” 

“Careful,” you teased. “Too many compliments like that might go to my head.” Even though you were pretty sure he was just trying to make you feel better, there was something in his tone that was convincing. 

“What are y’all doin’?” Boone’s voice filled your ears and suddenly his arm was slung around both your and Tyler’s shoulders, forcing you two to lean in a little bit closer to one another, but with Boone sandwiched in the middle. Your brother’s breath smelled like beer and there was that goofy smile on his face he always got when he had one too many. “The party’s on the dance floor!” 

You glanced over at the ‘dance floor’ which was a little space the Wranglers had carved out in front of the jukebox. A couple others joined them, but it wasn’t anything too wild. 

Tyler shook his head and finished his beer. “Your ass is gonna be sorry tomorrow, Boone. I told you we’re leaving bright and early.” 

Boone patted Tyler’s cheek. “I’ll be just fine.” 

Boone was not ‘just fine’ the next morning. What he was a pain in Tyler’s ass, which resulted in him being demoted to the backseat and you prompted to the passenger seat. Maybe that wasn’t the best move for Tyler because while he was driving, he found himself slightly distracted by you. 

You sat with your attention fixed out the window, watching the plains roll by with admiration. Every so often you fiddled with the radio per Lily’s request, but other than that you were quiet, observing. 

“Can we take a pit stop?” Boone moaned. Tyler glanced at in the rearview mirror, face paled and eyes squeezed shut. 

Tyler sighed. “I swear, if you throw up in my truck, Boone…” Tyler muttered, straining his eyes down the road for any sign of a gas station, but there didn’t look to be anything close. 

“There’s not another stop for half an hour tops,” you said, searching on your phone. 

“Great, cool, yeah,” Boone said. “Then you may wanna pull over or else everyone’s about to have a real bad time in here.” 

Tyler quickly pulled off to the side of the road and Boone scrambled out, across the road to empty his stomach. 

“I don’t know how many times I’ve got to tell him,” Tyler sighed. 

“He won’t listen,” Lily said, unbuckling and sticking her face between you and Tyler. “I’ll make sure he’s all right. You two keep an eye on the weather.” She hopped out, leaving you and Tyler alone. 

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, wracking his brain for something to say to you. Normally he had no issue talking to people, but he found himself second-guessing his words when it came to you. But you beat him to the punch. 

“He’s never been too good at holding his alcohol,” you said. “I can’t tell you how many times I had to pick him up because he got sick at some friend’s bonfire back in high school. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone get hangovers so badly.” 

“All a part of his charm, I guess,” Tyler joked. “Does it run in the family?” 

You shook your head. “No, neither charm nor hangovers. Boone’s one of a kind, that’s for sure.” 

Tyler steadied himself a little, finding that thread of confidence in the back of his mind. He gazed at you, taking in the pretty features of your face. “I think you’re wrong on the charming bit.” 

You looked surprised, eyes a little wider. “Me? Charming?” You scoffed. “No way.” 

“Charming, smart, pretty…” Tyler trailed off, waiting for a reaction from you to let him know if he had swung and missed. You looked down, averting your eyes and clearing your throat. Out the windshield, he saw two figures moving in his peripheral vision and before you got the chance to say anything back, Boone and Lily reentered the car. 

“That’s my bad, you guys,” Boone said. 

You turned your head over your shoulder to look at your brother. “Feel better?” 

“Oh, yeah. Ready to chase this son of a bitch!” And you all were off again. Tyler wished Boone and Lily had held out for one more minute. He wanted some kind of response from you, even if it was one telling him he had no chance. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, and one he felt bad about having, but he couldn’t help it. You were something new, a little unknown, and unpredictable. If there was one thing Tyler was good at, it was chasing through his apprehension. But instead of a tornado, you had quickly become the storm occupying his mind. 

You knocked for the fifth time on Boone’s door and tried calling him again, but one thing about your brother was that he was one of the heaviest sleepers of anyone you’ve ever met. That paired with his hangover from the night prior left him not answering you. You cursed under your breath, ready to set up camp in one of the rickety pool lounge chairs. 

There was an unpleasant pair of cockroaches in your motel room and the thought of sleeping with them scurrying about was out of the question. Since none of the other Wranglers had left their rooms, you wondered if you were the only one to notice them or the only one who had them. Whatever the case was, you couldn’t sleep in your room and apparently, you couldn’t sleep in Boone’s either because he was fast asleep. You couldn’t remember where Dani and Lily's rooms were to ask to bunk them. 

It seemed like you were out of luck until the door next to Boone’s opened and a groggy Tyler stepped out. “What’s goin’ on?” he yawned, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. 

You hugged your arms closer to your body. “Sorry, did I wake you up?” 

“Sorta,” he answered and you felt immediately guilty. “But it’s all right. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay out here. What’re you doin’ up anyway? It’s the middle of the night.” 

“There are cockroaches in my room,” you sighed. “I was trying to see if I could crash with Boone, but he sleeps like the dead.” 

Tyler chuckled. “That he does.” There was a beat and silent contemplation. You were about to tell him you’d crash in the camper or the truck, but he nodded his head back toward his room. “Come on,” he said. 

You stood, confused for a moment. “You can crash with me. I don’t think my room has cockroaches but for both our peace of mind, I wouldn’t look around too hard.” 

You weren't sure if you were elated or embarrassed. Overall, you were tired, exhausted even, and any thought of declining fled your mind the second Tyler turned to walk back inside, assuming you were following. So, you did. 

Tyler patted the edge of the bed. “It’s all yours,” he said, gathering one of the pillows in his arms. 

“What’re you doing?” 

He tossed the pillow onto the floor. “Praying for no cockroaches for the next couple of hours.” 

“No, wait,” you rushed out. “You can’t sleep on the floor.” 

“It’s all good-” he started, but you cut him off. 

“No way. I’m not kicking you out of your bed in your room.” You glanced at the bed, feeling your face grow hot at the thought of what you were about to suggest, but you couldn’t let him spend the night on the floor. “We can just…share.” 

Tyler stared at you for a moment, like he didn’t know what to say. He shifted his gaze between the pillow on the floor and the bed before landing back on you. “Are you sure? Because I really don’t mind.” 

“I’m sure.” 

Hesitantly, you sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off your shoes, trying to ignore the shift of weight on the mattress as sat down opposite of you. It wasn’t as big of a deal as your mind was trying to tell you it was. It was just two co-workers, borderline friends, sharing a bed so no one had to face any cockroaches. That was all it was. But even in the darkness of the motel room, you couldn’t help the quick beat of your heart as you crawled under the covers, with your back facing Tyler. He did the same and before you could convince yourself what you were doing was not a big deal at all, Tyler’s soft snores filled the room. It was oddly reassuring. You fell asleep not long after him, a clear space between you but something in the air that wanted to draw you two closer. 

For a moment, when he woke up, Tyler thought the exchange he had with you in the middle of the night had been a dream. But when he rolled over to find your sleeping face inches away from his, he realized it was very much real. Your eyes were softly closed and your lips slightly parted as you slept. He found himself admiring you for just a moment, until there was a loud knock on his door, forcing him to get up. 

He threw it open without thinking much about it. Boone greeted him with a slightly worried expression pulled on his face. “Hey, man what’s-” 

“Have you seen my sister? She called me last night a bunch of times, but I didn’t hear it. And when I went to her room no one answered,” Boone said, quickly cutting Tyler off. 

“Boone?” Your voice sounded from behind Tyler and as soon as he saw the several emotions flicker across Boone’s face, he realized he may have made a mistake. 

Boone’s gaze flickered between you sleepily sitting up in Tyler’s bed and Tyler. “Dude!” he exclaimed. “What the hell is going on here?” 

It must have registered with you too how the situation looked. You hurried out of bed and stood at Tyler’s side. “Wait, hold on-” 

“What the hell are you doing?” he said to you. “I said no funny business,” he then said to Tyler. 

“It’s not like that,” Tyler rushed out. “I know that it looks like that, but it’s not. I swear.” 

“He’s right,” you added. “It’s not. I needed a place to crash because there were bugs in my room, and you wouldn’t answer your phone. Tyler offered to let me stay in his. That’s all.” 

Boone didn’t look too convinced. He crossed his arms over his chest, blowing air from his cheeks. “You two have been making googly eyes at each other since you arrived,” Boone said. Both you and Tyler tried to defend yourself, even if Tyler hadn’t been super subtle about his ‘googly’ eyes. But Boone cut you both off with a wave of his hand. “Save it. I know both of you. You,” he pointed to Tyler. “Are the least subtle person I know. And you,” he pointed at you. “Have been talking about him since I started chasing with him.” 

Your eyes widened almost comically as you sputtered over your response. “I-I have not!” 

“Look,” Boone started, taking a deep breath. “You’re both adults. But if you’re gonna get into any funny business, for the love of the Lord himself, do not do it around me. Got it?” 

“Okay,” you answered, catching Tyler off guard. He expected you to brush your brother off and force Tyler to face the reality that you had no interest in him, but you didn’t. 

Boone looked to him for his answer. “Y-Yeah.” 

“Good,” Boone said. “We’re leavin’ in fifteen.” He turned on his heel and left the two of you in the doorway. Once he was out of earshot, a laugh sounded from your lips, a sweet sound he wasn’t expecting. 

“God, that was embarrassing,” you said, still laughing at the situation. 

Tyler couldn’t help but laugh too, closing the door and leaving the two of you alone in his motel room once more. “Is that true? You talk about me?” 

You hung your head, sheepishly and shrugged. “Maybe.” The idea of you talking about him made him feel on top of the world. “Is what he said about you true? Are you really not that subtle?” 

“I did invite you to sleep with me,” he joked, taking a step closer to you. You didn’t move away but instead closed the distance between you two even more. He searched your eyes for a sign that you were thinking the same thing he was, and when your gaze flickered to his lips for only a second, he got his confirmation. 

Tyler hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head upwards just slightly as he leaned in. He kissed you slowly, sweetly as you hung your arms around his shoulders to bring him in even closer, the two of you pressed chest to chest. He felt you smile against his lips, a blissful feeling he didn’t to end.

[lis-likes-fics]

Shades of Red

Pairings: Jonathan Crane x hero!Reader Word Count: 11.4k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, oral (m! and f!receiving), fingering, switch!reader, switch!Jonathan, biting, scratching, multilple orgasms, creampie, p in v sex, riding sex, slight praise kink, slight begging kink, slight degradation, swearing... A/N: I just really love writing for Jonathan Crane. Any Cillian Murphy character in general. Why is he so cunty? Just so good. Anyway, I hope you like it! Thanks!

It's busy tonight. The building has been filling with guests all evening, packed to the brim with men and women here for business and pleasure and everything in between. That's why you're so glad to be in here, tucked away in one of the private rooms of the club. Though less glad that you sit across the lap of a sleazy gang boss that you honestly find quite disgusting.

He has one arm wrapped around your waist and the other resting on your upper thigh. He's whispering in your ear, his lips so close to your skin that they brush her cheek every now and then.

The door opens and the both of you turn to see who is interrupting—for you, fortunately. A sly smirk slips onto your lips as you lay your eyes on a handsome face.

He smiles back at you, watching you through glasses, his unbuttoned shirt displaying his chest to you in his version of laid-back. It's a good look on him.

“Why, hello, Miss Cherry,” Jonathan Crane greets you as he closes the door behind him.

Benjamin looks at him and sits back, his hand still caressing your thigh as he sighs.

You chuckle lightly, licking your bottom lip as you do. “Hello, doctor,” you purr, beckoning him closer with nothing but a look. “I missed you last night.”

He walks forward, standing in front of you as he sets his finger under your chin. “Forgive me, angel,” he says, glancing at Benjamin. “I had business to take care of.”

He sits in the chair next to the sofa Benjamin takes up, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. “Speaking of,” he sighs, “I think it's best you run along while Mr. Liste and I have a talk.”

You raise an amused brow, your attention shifting when the man in question speaks. “Nonsense,” he says. “She'll behave herself, won't she?” His hand lightly smacks your side and you nod, finding his touch particularly repulsive but being unfazed anyway.

“Of course.” You smile between the two of them, shifting your gaze to Crane. “Anything that makes you happy.”

Benjamin reaches inside of his suit jacket, pulling out an expensive cigar to set between his lips. You reach inside, pressing your hand against his chest as you pull his lighter out. You move slowly, sensually, in your quest to light the end. He thanks you with a grin, and you look at Crane with half-lidded eyes and a permanent smirk.

Crane stares for a moment. “Very well,” he concedes. He points at you with somewhat of a warning finger, tilting his head to the side. “But you have to promise me you'll keep this between the three of us.”

You feign surprise, setting a manicured hand over your chest with a soft gasp. “I won't tell a soul. Promise.” You raise two fingers in boy scout's honor and kiss them.

Benjamin laughs heavily. “That's a good girl.” Your skin crawls. “See? What’d I tell ya?” He hums, sitting back again as his hand continues to stroke you. “So what have you got for me?”

He shrugs, clasping his hands in his lap. “That entirely depends on what you have for me, Mr. Liste.”

He takes in a long breath, holding it for a moment before allowing a puff of smoke to gather in the air around your head. You hold your breath and stifle your tears before they can start.

“Give us a show, little cherry bomb,” he grins, patting you before you stand. You stalk to the wall, turning up the knob that controls the volume until you hear a song playing through the speakers. You go to the small platform in the middle of the room and take a hold of the pole, their eyes glued to your body, the skimpy clothes adorning you leaving little to the imagination.

Once you've begun dancing, they sink into their conversation, and you listen closely as you entertain.

“Shipments made it to the port last night,” Benjamin says as he flicks cigar ashes onto the floor carelessly.

Crane raises an inquisitive brow. “And you didn't tell me then?” You could feel the disdain from here.

Benjamin doesn't care as he shrugs. “Well, Johnny, me and my guys have decided we're gonna hang onto it a little while longer.”

Crane does his best to keep his anger seething and not explosive. He gets a better message across by staying calm. “That wasn't part of our deal.”

“Yeah?” Smoke billows from the butt of his cigar. “This is good stuff we've got on our hands. There are plenty of other interested parties who would double—even triple the fee you're offering.” He shrugs, letting out a heavy sigh. He looks away from you and points to Crane with his cigar. “Why should I give it to you?”

Crane stares at him, unblinking, his expression the same as when he walked in…perfectly cordial. “Let's just say,” he leans forward onto his knees, clasping his hands, “I provide traitors with worse consequences.”

And you believe that…

You've seen what it looks like in that godforsaken prison he runs.

“Let's just say…” he rolls his eyes, “if you can't outbid any of my potential clients, you're wasting my time.” He takes a smoke and looks back at you, admiring the way you move, raking his eyes up and down your body. Your skin feels like syrup, thick and slimy and sticky and gross.

“Besides, betrayal insinuates we had some trust going on between us.” He chuckles at the notion. “I don't trust you, you don't trust me. That's that.”

Crane sighs, looking away from him to look at you. When he drinks you in, you don't feel so slimy and gross. You wink his way just for the fun of it, just to tick Benjamin off just a little bit.

Benjamin clears his throat. “I want my money by tomorrow night at twelve. If you can't get me that, consider your shipment gone.”

There's a long pause as they watch each other, daring the other to give in, to concede and accept an offer. You see something change in Crane’s eyes as he sits back, humming to himself as he nods gently.

“Where shall I meet you?”

You're ready to listen when Benjamin turns to you, his gaze so demeaning as he speaks. “I'm gonna need you to cover your ears for this one, sweetheart.”

You smile, raising your hands to your ears to cover them. When he's sure you've been deafened, his lips form a word you have to piece together with your knowledge of shipment docks in Gotham. Chesterport.

He pushes off his pants, standing and making his way toward you as he sets a hand on your back, cueing you to remove your hands from your ears. You step down from your platform to join him on the floor.

“Thank you, Cherry,” he smiles. He turns to Crane, letting his cigar hang from his lips. “Twelve o'clock or it's done. You got me?”

You can make out the smallest smirk on his lips as he nods slowly. “Twelve o'clock.”

Benjamin chuckles heartily. “Good boy.”

You just know Crane hated that. Part of you finds it amusing. But you'd find it more amusing if you knew he wasn't going to do something insane over it.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Benjamin says, his face inching toward yours. You don't move, but it's clear he won't kiss you. He's big and powerful but he knows the rules. “You and I need a little one-on-one time.”

You chuckle lightly. “Of course, sir,” you murmur. You turn a seductive eye towards your Jonathan Crane, winking at him as you walk. “Buh-bye, doctor. I'll see you soon.”

He nods his head, his eyes dark with an unclaimed desire. The power you hold over these men is a delectable kind of knowledge. “Cherry.”

Blowing a kiss, you spin on your heel and walk away with Benjamin. He's going to pay for a lap dance, and then he's going to leave to take care of the rest of his business. Just as he always does. It's a more fortunate fate than it would have been if certain rules weren't set in place to keep the dancers here as safe as they can be in this godforsaken city.

And once he leaves, you can follow suit to get ready for a midnight appointment tomorrow at Chesterport.

~

Don't judge.

Living in Gotham is dangerous and fucking expensive. Saving it doesn't pay the bills.

If you have to swing on a pole and show a little skin for some extra bills to pay for rent, that’s what you’ll do. And, sure, being a vigilante in this city means you know the Bats. You bumped into him on your second mission, and he laid down the ground rules of you remaining a crime fighter from the very beginning (with plenty of threats to keep you in line with said rules). Over time, you’ve become close and you can honestly call The Batman your friend, but that doesn't mean he's paying your bills either.

Is it because you told him not to? Possibly. But you even it out by making him provide the needs for your weapons and other protections. He's a philanthropist, he wasn't going to let you get away without some financial support. (But it looks weird being funded by the Bruce Wayne when all you are is some stripper down at a popular and dangerous club in Gotham.)

The city won't thank you for helping to save it, but the men sure thank you for winking their way and making them feel a little good-looking every now and then.

So, yes, sneaking into the Wayne Manor isn't unusual for you, and he's never surprised to see you when you randomly appear in the bat-ridden cave.

“Why do you need a gas mask?”

You kick your feet as they dangle off the side of his desk where he tries to work—more improvements on his suit, it seems. Alfred is somewhere in here, but you suppose he's busy for the moment.

“Because Crane is up to stuff,” you shrug, picking up a precision knife and twirling it in your hands, “and that toxin of his is not something I want to have to deal with.” You had a go at it once before…it didn't end pleasantly.

Bruce taps through his tablet, looking at all the designs he has stored in it as he examines said mask. “When do you need it?”

You smile, looking as innocent as you can. But he's fallen immune to your charms by now, no matter how convincing you're trying to be. “Tonight?”

He sighs, shaking his head at your ridiculousness. “Why can't you just make your own?”

You roll your eyes. “Because I'm low on supplies with all of my bomb tech and mine won't be as good as yours anyway. Oh, and you're my supplier. So you're supposed to supply my needs.” When he raises a brow at you, you pout. “You don't want me getting hurt, do you?”

He huffs lightly, looking down at his tablet and murmuring to himself. “Seriously considering it.”

You know he's joking, but it's fun to screw around.

“Shut up,” you say. “It's because of me you have an extra load off your shoulders.”

He shakes his head but doesn't disagree. It's quiet for a moment as he thinks. “I'll give you mine—temporarily—while I make yours for future purposes.” He tilts his head. “Not that there should be one.”

You hum. “We've already had this discussion—and no, I'm still not going to quit.” You hop off the desk, walking around it to meddle with his things. “Besides, Crane is my best patron. What would he do if his favorite hero disappeared?”

Bruce brushes you off and ignores your activities, used to your antics. You have an air around you that drips with seduction and sexual debauchery that he has become immune to by now. So even when you run your finger down his shoulder and linger, he remains entirely unfazed.

He walks off, and you follow as he leads you to the wall of all his different techs. He pulls his mask from one of his suits, similar to that of a medical face mask, but this one is made of metal with respiratory tubes to prevent the user from suffocating.

He doesn't give it to you yet. “Where will you be again?”

“Are you going to crash?” you complain. “I can handle myself.”

He chuckles lightly, it's just a breath through his nose. “I am fully aware of your capabilities.” He shakes his head. “I have my own things to deal with, this is just as a safety measure in case you need backup.”

“Which I won't need.”

You reach for the mask, but he puts it out of your reach.

“Cherry.”

Your lip curls. You always find it amusing when he calls you that. He never uses your real name, always the stage name. It's always fun to hear him say it, so you throw him a bone.

“Chesterport dock at twelve.”

He studies you for a moment before slowly handing you the mask, which you snatch up as you turn on your heel to leave.

Don't get hurt.”

“Never do.”

He shakes his head and gets back to work.

~

Underneath the movement and conversation of the men at the port, the water sounds peaceful. It's easy to hide in a place like this. It's dark, full of giant containers that you can take cover in.

You're practically twiddling your thumbs as you wait there, the past near hour almost as boring as watching paint dry as these gangbangers do nothing but laugh loudly, play cards, all the stereotypical activities of criminals before any real activity happens. You're checking your watch for the hundredth time—a quarter to twelve—and feel a yawn arising in you. You stay later at the club, but this is just boring.

You almost chuckle as you consider taking a brief nap…like that would go over well.

“See? I knew you'd deliver, Johnny Boy.”

You perk up at the sound of Benjamin's voice. You look down from your hiding place, your eyes landing on Dr. Crane as he arrives with a group of goons behind him. He looks as sophisticated as ever. You enjoy looking at him.

He comes to a stop, staring at the man as he thinks to himself. Silently, he tilts his head slightly toward his shoulder and one of his guys steps forward with a briefcase. Benjamin does the same, and his meets the other.

They hand over the case, shoving the playing cards to the side as they set the case on a crate to open it up. Upon the first glance, Benjamin's face screws up in annoyance and disgust.

“What is this?” he scoffs. “This isn't even half of what we originally promised.”

Crane shrugs nonchalantly, clasping his hands in front of him as he sighs. “Your promises weren't kept,” he says, “why should mine be?”

Benjamin's angry now, and it honestly amuses you to see him so peeved as you continue to peer in on the confrontation. “Because I'm a powerful man with a lot of powerful friends.”

Crane’s brows furrow and he turns to look around himself. “Funny,” he hums. “I don't see any.”

They stare at each other for a long moment, the air thick with suffocating masculinity (though a lot of it drips from Benjamin, as Crane doesn't necessarily need masculinity to frustrate him). Then Benjamin starts to laugh, throwing his head back as he takes it all as some sort of stupid joke.

“Alright,” he says. “I'll give you one last chance to deliver the money. And because you're being such an ass, Johnny, make it quadruple.” He takes a threatening step forward, to which he goons follow.

Crane and his guys don't move an inch.

“Otherwise, I'm afraid it will have to get a little messy.” His hand comes to rest on his gun, where it sits on his hip.

“Well,” he sighs, rubbing his hands together, “that's too bad. Because, you see, Benji, I don't do business with filthy men who don't keep to their word.”

Crane snaps his fingers and another man walks up to him, holding a briefcase that he opens. You brace yourself, unhooking one of the explosives from your weapons belt. You watch as he pulls out a pair of black gloves, slipping them onto his hands as he speaks, taking his own scarecrow mask into his grasp. “So I'm afraid it will have to get a little messy.” Behind him, you watch his few men put on masks of their own. You follow suit.

“And my name isn't Johnny…” he says as he gazes at Benjamin through the worn holes of his mask, “it's Dr. Crane.”

Bored with the stalling, Benjamin rolls his eyes and pulls his gun from his holster. Everyone braces, fully ready to start making bullets fly as the tension raises to meet a climax. Just as guns are clicking with the disabling of the safety, everyone pauses at the ominous sound of clink, clink, clink against the concrete ground.

It rolls, and all eyes watch it until it comes to an inevitable spot. At the sight of a giant red ‘RR’ painted on the front, they panic.

“It's Ruby Red!” Benjamin barks. We're compromised. Go!”

It’s too late to move as the bomb explodes, a loud boom! covering every inch of the dock as the sound echoes off the water. Smoke arises from the destruction, and everyone scrambles to their feet to run in different directions, disoriented from the blow.

You hear Crane’s voice over the commotion of coughs and grunts. “Get the cases!” he orders, and his men go to listen as they rush toward them. Benjamin's men follow suit, standing to rush toward them.

But you're quicker.

Another bomb explodes right on top of the cases. They burst open, a good deal of the contents destroyed. The men who are covering their ears to be rid of the ringing in their brains look around, conflicted on their next course of action.

Clearly, Benjamin is not amused. “Get what you fucking can!”

They listen, as if they haven't learned their lessons by now. They move, you bomb. And you do. Jumping down from where you'd been hiding this whole time, you land easily and toss another. It's perfectly nonlethal—you make sure of that—when that one goes off. It, at the very least, gets rid of a few insubordinates who run the other way after deeming three bombs a bit above their pay grades.

There's so much going on and not enough time for a lot of the people involved to process. When Crane and his men approach the cases after Benjamin and his men flee, he lays his eyes upon the bright red explosive and its green painted stem and is almost amused.

“Cherry bomb.”

“Take cover!” one of the men yells as he runs the other way, the others following in quick haste. Crane turns calmly, spying you standing just outside of the fray. He watches you reach for a trigger and leaps out of the way, ducking down to take cover as you set the bomb off.

The sound would have been deafening if you hadn't been standing as far as you were. There's smoke everywhere, some debris covers the ground. You walk past all the groaning men as they try to get their thoughts in order, checking the smoking cases and ensuring all the drugs have been properly destroyed—and they have, but just to be sure of it, you push the rest off the dock. Job well done, you'd say.

You turn on your heel, smiling underneath your mask. You think he's cute, standing like he is with a couple of his guys pointing guns at you. It's sweet.

When you toss the next bomb, they shoot it, honestly assisting you. It does what all bombs do: it explodes. Only this time, a bout of smoke covers the expanse of the air and it lingers. It sets over everyone and makes it easier for you to make your little get away as you hear boots stomping away as the rest of these “brave” souls escape.

“Long time no see.”

You turn, amusement coloring your face—though he can hardly see it between Bruce's mask and your masquerade-esc one of your own. You tilt your head as you take in the sight of him watching you closely. You walk nearer to him, but don't allow him too much pleasure of your up-close and personal company.

“You were behaving.”

He hums, shrugging a shoulder. “I wouldn't say all that.” He examines your little mask, and you can practically see his hidden smile. “Ooh,” he says, “smart girl.”

It’s your turn to shrug, “I know a thing or two.” You reach for your belt, unhooking the pair of cuffs resting there. “So are you gonna turn yourself in or do I have to do it myself?”

Crane hums. “I have other plans.”

“Alright then.” You sigh, playing with the cuffs as you peek at him through the mask. “I'll do it myself.”

He chuckles. You make the first move, stepping forward and pushing away his hand when he tries shooting you. You're hurt, honestly, as you disarm him and kick his gun away. With being so close, you have the advantage because you're faster than him. Every blow he makes is easily dodged by you.

When you turn on your heel and run, he follows after you as you climb on top of a few small crates, just to turn right back and jump onto him. It's easy for you to swing around his body until your legs wrap around his neck, taking another round before letting him slam into the ground with the strength of your throw. You land on your feet, allowing the cool night air to hit the skin of your bare arms and thighs. If only you hadn't had to wear so much protection, the breeze would have felt so nice.

You jangle the cuffs once more. “Last chance to settle down.”

Crane groans as he pulls himself up from the ground, his muscles sore already from the exertion of the fight. He pulls his mask off, revealing his pretty face as a deep sigh leaves him. He looks up at you with those cold blue eyes, examining your body from top to bottom as he does. His gaze lingers on your thighs, the supple flesh seemingly alluring to him.

“Actually, I was thinking something a little more…” you watch him reveal one of your cherry bombs to you, already lit as the sparks go down the stem of it, and he looks up at you and smiles, “...explosive.”

You already know that Jonathan Crane is mentally insane, but it's always interesting to see him prove it.

“Fuck,” you mutter, glancing at the missing space on your belt. “Well, bye.”

You grip a smoke bomb and set it off before his can blow, the both of you escaping just in time for the blow to take over. As Crane stands from his ducked position and he waves away the smoke to clear it up, his coughing subsides when he spies no sign of you anywhere.

But the memory of the cherry-shaped birthmark on the inside of your thigh is ingrained in his mind.

~

“Cherry.”

You turn slowly to keep from disturbing the tray of glasses in your hand. Spotting the origin of the call, he tosses you a key card.

“Room three.”

You sigh gently, passing the tray to another employee as you turn to make your way to the private rooms. You fix your hair on the way, renewing your lipstick as you come up on the hall.

You swipe the card, walking into the third room to set it up for your patron. You're waiting on the large sofa for all of two minutes before the door opens again. You smile at the sight of your customer.

“Why, hello, Cherry,” Crane smiles, closing the door softly behind him. He's not as fancy today, a button down that he has neglected to button all the way up and a pair of black slacks to match. It's a nice look on him, paired with his tousled hair and framed glasses.

“Hello, doctor,” you greet, your mood suddenly rising at the prospect of some alone time with your favorite criminal. “Do I have an appointment with you tonight?”

It’s been a couple of nights since you last saw him. He's been busy, you presume.

“You do,” he nods, walking into the room. You stand to meet him on the way. His eyes rake over your body, appreciating the sight of the dark red adoring your tiny skirt, your bralette, your lipstick. “I love that color on you.”

You hum gratefully. “That's kind of the point, isn't it?” It is your namesake, after all.

His hands land on your hips, grazing the bare skin they find with appreciative fingers. “What kind of red is it?” He hums, allowing his eyes to take you in. “Scarlet, rose…ruby, perhaps?”

You don't react, smiling at him as you ignore the heavy beating of your heart. Parting your lips, you let out a gentle chuckle. “Cherry.”

“Ah,” he nods, smirking. “That makes sense.”

Placing your hands on his chest, you begin to slowly walk him backwards toward the sofa. “What would you like, doctor?”

He falls onto the cushions with a little bounce, staring up at you with his piercing gaze. His hand cups the back of your thigh, caressing the skin thoughtfully as you stifle the shudder threatening to break. He smiles. “Dance for me.”

You nod gently, examining the expanse of his face. Jonathan Crane is a man of microexpression. He doesn't often let on what he's thinking, and he isn't partial to freely telling. You've always found yourself watching him too closely, waiting for a subtle change, anything to give away what he's really thinking. You take your bottom lip between your teeth, just the slightest nip before you let it free again.

“As you wish,” you whisper.

You break away from him, turning up the dial for the music to play, and walking toward the mini stage and its pole, just waiting for you to join it. You take hold of the cold steel, locking eyes with the man staring back at you, his gaze intense and unyielding. You like this little game between you, this game that pools so much heat within you.

He doesn't let a single movement go unnoticed as you dance for him. Every sway, every dip, every swivel is appreciated in his eyes, and you enjoy the attention at its fullest. He shakes his head, sighing to himself as he praises you.

“I love the way you move,” he says. “So smooth and graceful.”

You giggle lightly. “Why, thank you.”

“A beauty like you deserves to be praised,” he replies, leaning back with an arm thrown over the back of the sofa. He thinks to himself, nibbling his bottom lip and watching you closely.

“Well,” you turn back around, practically hugging the pole as you bend down low to your knees, “I'm feeling praised.”

You stand back up, slowly, sensually, never letting your gaze wander from his own. “Good.” His voice is nearly a purr.

There's a moment where he finds himself lost in the sight of you. He doesn't speak, he doesn't hum. His eyes stay glued to your figure, mesmerized by the spell of your hips swaying in the mood lighting.

He strokes his bottom lip, tilting his head up at you. “There was an explosion the other night at the dock,” he says. “Did you hear?”

You hum, “Here and there, the patrons talk.” You glance over your shoulder at him, “Which one?”

“Chesterport.” Again, you hum. “They say that Ruby Red crashed. Some of her bomb casings were left behind.”

That's one of the only downsides to your bombs. The casings. You don't flinch. “Was there something going on?”

He tilts his head, smirking. “This is Gotham, sweetheart. There's always something going on.”

You shrug. “Then it's probably not that bad.”

Your answers intrigues him. He furrows his brow, “I've never asked.” He sits up, leaning forward curiously. “What do you think about this vigilante, ‘Ruby Red’?”

You're treading on dangerous waters now. If you blow your cover to him, things could end really badly for you.

“You've never needed to ask. It's not really a topic of discussion here.” You turn to him, your dance never halting for a moment as you bend down, your hands on your knees as you roll back up to your full height. He never looks away, relishing in the intensity.

“But what do you think?”

You don't let any silence linger. You say the first thing on your mind and hope it's good enough to pass. You've always had a cunning tongue, you're sure you can get by well enough.

“I think that if she keeps busting the criminals of Gotham, then I'm going to run out of clients.” You chuckle lightly, “Same for the fucking Batman.”

His brows raise in surprise. “So you want her to stop.”

You shrug. “I want her to stay away from you.” You send a wink his way. “You pay me best.”

He sets a hand over his chest. “I thought we had a real connection, Miss Cherry.”

“We do,” you hum. You break away from the pole, stepping slowly over to him as you bend down to rest your hands on the back of the sofa, caging him in. Your faces are inches apart. You tip his chin up slightly with the very tip of your finger. “You, me, skin-to-skin, money-to-palm.”

He sighs gently when you let go of him, shifting your dance into his lap. “Naughty girl,” he tuts. “I thought I wasn't allowed to touch.” Just as he says it, he smooths a hand down your side.

“That's never stopped you before,” you chuckle. “You know you can touch, darling, you're just not allowed to fuck me.”

He hums regretfully. “Such a pity,” he says. There's another pause. “Have you ever been told you look like her?”

Shit.

“Like who?”

“Ruby Red.”

“No.” You look at him, raising an innocent brow. “Why, do I?”

He shrugs. “There's a resemblance.”

You turn it back on him, “So you've seen her before?”

He seems proud of that fact. He leans in slowly, catching your own chin this time. “Up close and personal.”

You love this little game of yours. You close more space, your voice low. “I thought she only got up close and personal with the bad boys.”

“Am I not?” he asks.

Your voice is a whisper. “A little bit.” You break away from him again.

He takes in a deep breath. Thinking. “Can I tell you something?”

You wink at him. “Anything you want, my darling doctor.”

“I was at that dock that night,” he confesses. “Chesterport?”

“Were you?” You feign surprise. “Were you misbehaving?”

He doesn't reply immediately, watching the expressions on your face as you continue on. He smiles, tilting his head. “Well, I wasn't behaving well.”

“Good. I find it boring when you do.”

“I saw her…” He grabs your arm, though not roughly. He takes your arm and pulls you back into him so you stand between his legs. He maneuvers your hands onto his shoulder, setting his own on your waist. You lean into him, wrapping your arms closer. “Up close and personal. I spoke to her, actually. You know what she told me?”

You tilt your head. “What?”

“ ‘You were behaving.’ ” He smiles, staring at your face. “That's what she said.” You still don't flinch. You can't. Anything you do could tip him off, but you have a feeling that your efforts will prove to be futile. He is insistent. “You know,” he narrows his eyes, “you sound a lot like her, too.”

Well, it's too late to change that.

You raise a brow, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “Oh, so you think I’m Ruby?”

“I think it'd be quite the reveal,” he shrugs. “You definitely picked a great work spot if you were her. You're surrounded by criminals of all kinds, you get good intel. Hell, you were here just the other night listening to my conversation with Mr. Liste. I mean, who else would have figured out when and where we were meeting?”

“Okay,” you laugh gently, licking your bottom lip, “even if I was Ruby, how would you figure it out? Because I sound like her?”

He licks his lip this time, sighing gently. His hand continues to stroke up and down the length of your thigh, loving the feeling of your skin under his palm.

“When I saw her,” he begins, “she did this thing where she put her legs around my neck—scandalous, I know. When she had me down, just for a moment, I saw something…” He hooks his hand behind your knee, lifting it up to his side. Your heart plummets to your stomach, but you ignore it in favor of being partial. “It was something…on her upper thigh, on the inside.” His hand smooths under your skirt, slowly, slowly pushing it up. “A birthmark.” He pushes it all the way up, the expanse of your flesh and the slip of your panties revealed to him. “Like a cherry.”

He looks down and pauses at the sight of your bare flesh, barren of any mark, any blemish—just smooth, clear skin. Stopped in his tracks, he hums as he looks back up at you.

You raise a brow, lifting his chin. “Are you done?” you wonder, letting your hand fall back to his shoulder. “A few inches more and you would be past the touching rule.”

He tilts his head, his other hand reaching toward your leg. You reach a hand down, forgetting yourself as you grab his wrist and drop the smile from your face. Your eyes lock, and he grins. You know he's won as you drop your hand.

He wipes the makeup from your skin, the cherry birthmark showing itself in all its splendor. His hand lingers as he stares up at you. His triumph is subtle. There isn't much he needs to say. He leans back, brushing your knee.

“Hello, Miss Ruby.”

You stare at him for a while, planning your next course of action. You could kill him, but then you'd have to face Bruce—and you don't want to do that at all. You could knock him out, claim he broke the “touching” rule, but he'd just let the cat out of the bag. Then you'd be dead.

So instead…you smile. You smile at him and show how impressed you are by his investigation. “Smart boy,” you praise, mirroring his words from a few nights before. “The one time I don't cover it, you find me out.”

He shrugs. “I know a thing or two.” He sighs, examining you from head to toe. He taps his fingers on your thigh. “Now what is to be done about you?”

You let out a long sigh as you lower yourself into his lap, moving closer so that your bodies are practically pressed together. You keep your arms around his shoulders, playing with the hair at the back of his neck.

“You keep quiet,” you smile, “or I put you behind bars? Maybe I'll even throw you in one of your little cells at Arkham.”

His own hand smooths along your thigh, coming up higher so it strokes the round of your ass. “Sweetheart, you are in the middle of a nightclub run by one of the biggest bosses in the city.” He cradles the side of your neck like he'll kiss you. “Do you really think you’ll have the upper hand when they learn that one of their favorite dancers is also one of the city's pesky avengers?”

Your face doesn't change, but your heart is beating so quickly. You think he can feel it with the way he holds you, his hand right over your pulse. The danger you would be in if anyone ever found out is dire…

“All I would have to do is offer to take you in, ensure you never cause problems again. They would release you to me, and I could do…” you swear you can see his eyes rolling back, feel his body shuddering at the idea of such a thing, “...whatever I wanted.”

You refuse to admit the things his words are doing to you.

“I could make you crazy. I could make you…absolutely deranged,” he suggests. “I could visit you every single day, turn your mind to mush, have my way with you as long as I wanted.” He breathes in deeply as he removes his glasses, resting the tip of it between his lips as he sighs heavily through a grin. “You would beg me to do things to you that would make a good girl blush.”

You could almost feel your thighs shaking. The anticipation of his threat—his promise—is sent straight to your core as you try not to clench around nothing. He'd surely feel it with the way you sit atop him. The very idea has your heart beating even quicker, but you don't show it. Not even for a moment. You can't show such a weakness to him, he'd never let you live it down.

So you simply hum and shrug a nonchalant shoulder. “But you won't.”

“Won't I?” He sets his glasses down and leans in, so close to your lips yet so, so far all at the same time. His eyes pierce your soul, they dig deep until you can't control the slightest shiver rushing up your spine. “You'd be ruined. Even worse, I could give a heads up to the cops. You'd be on the run from both sides of the fight.” He chuckles, “I could make things…extremely difficult for you.”

He licks his bottom lip between his teeth. Just thinking about it makes his blood sing. With a sigh, he seems to calm himself. “Or…I could make things rather easy. Beneficial, even. It would be nice having someone like you in my pocket to get rid of my competition when I need it. And it'd be nice for you to have someone like me to deliver information to you when you need it.” He pinches your chin lightly. “This could be a very mutually benefiting relationship.”

When he stops, you raise a brow at him. “But?”

“But,” he agrees, “if we decide on this, I require some assurance.” He shrugs. “Attention, if you will.”

Your lip rises in a smirk. “You want me to fuck you?”

He hums. “Decisions, decisions.”

You roll your eyes to keep from clenching your thighs. Shaking your head, you glance away as you feign disgust. “Ugh,” you groan. “You're such a man.”

Completely unbelieving, he questions, “And you don't want me?” You turn back to him. “You're telling me that you don't wish we could do more than just…touch?” He raises a hand to your cheek, hovering his lips over yours as he teases you. You try not to react, but it's hard. “Do I not attract you?”

You steady your breath. “And what makes you think that I do?”

There's a moment of silence where he just…watches you. The amusement glints in his eyes and you know you've screwed up…again.

“Do you know why a cat's eyes expand so much when they look at their owners?” he asks. “Like little dimes.”

You chuckle. “Because they love their owners. This is not that.”

He disregards your answer. “Well, some of the science is a little more practical. In the dark, pupils will expand to let in more light in order to allow our brains to take in more information. When looking at someone you find attractive, your eyes will expand in the same manner—to take in more of them, to gain more information.” He strokes your cheek. “Every time you look at me, sweetheart, your eyes grow ever so slightly. Right now…” he smiles, “dimes.”

You don't want to hear this. “Listen, Jon–”

“You lick your lips a lot in order to draw my attention to them, to raise my attraction for you.” He tilts his head, and you have to fight the urge to lick your lips as you do the same, forgetting your smile as you stare darkly at him. You don't appreciate the way he picks you apart like this, things so hard for you to change. Mental, psychological things.

“You mirror me.” You straighten your head as soon as he says it, which only makes his smile grow. He's so proud of himself. You want to prove him wrong but you keep proving him right. “You adopt my mannerisms in order to create a bond between us. When you look at me, your body–”

“I think I get it,” you interrupt quickly. You've heard enough.

“Oh…” he pretends to pout. “Don't feel bad. You did try so hard to hide it. But you forget, I've dedicated my life to studying these kinds of things.”

You look away from him, thinking quietly to yourself as you contemple on your course of action. You really don't have much of a choice…

Bruce could protect you, you're sure, but you'd still be in a lot of danger. They would never stop looking for you, none of them, and you know that one day they would.

You sigh, “So I either fuck you or spend the rest of my life running from both the law and crime.”

He tuts to himself, too proud of himself to hide his grin. “Decisions, decisions.”

You really have no choice. On the bright side, you're getting laid.

You collect a big breath, letting it out in a heavy sigh as you release your inhibitions and give in. This should be fun, at least.

“I'm warning you,” you say, “I'm a scratcher.”

He smirks. “I'm a biter.”

Your lips crash together as you grip his hair between your fingers, pulling roughly as the both of you join in a fierce kind of passion that leads to flushed skin and heavy breaths and trembling limbs. It's the kind of passion that burns anything in its wake and leaves you questioning in the morning whether or not you regret the night before.

Immediately he lives up to his word as his teeth sink into your bottom lip. You moan into his mouth, moving his head back as you lift onto your knees to tower over him. The lust is fast, and the urge is strong. He grunts against your lips, pulling you closer to his body as you both devour each other in rough, carnal desire.

It sets a fire within you knowing that you’ve managed to turn the calm and composed Dr. Crane into just another man desperate to give into his lustful cravings. He’s no longer the esteemed doctor you know him to be…now he’s just Jonathan… and that’s a sweet reward you’ve already grown a tooth for.

You grind into his lap, sighing at the way his growing erection feels rubbing into you. A choked sound erupts from his throat as he grabs your waist, moving your hips against him. Your moans fall from your lips, a deep sound in your chest meant to encourage him.

You place a hand over his, gripping it to pull it away as you remove yourself from his lap. Sinking onto your knees, you look up at him through hooded eyes You undo his belt with quick fingers, caught in the heat of the moment. He watches you with kiss-swollen lips, his breath unsteady as you look up at him through hooded eyes. Your hand strokes his lap, moving closer and closer to his crotch before the palm of your hand is massaging him.

He groans, and you can feel his cock twitching in his pants. Eager to set him free, you release him from the confines of his slacks and take him in your hand. A breath escapes you at the sight. Half-hard, he’s well-endowed, and the tiniest part of you feels guilty at the way you feel your need for him rising within you. That part of you is quickly squashed by that same need as you massage the head of his cock with your thumb and he lets out the most delicious sound.

You inhale the heady scent of him, there’s something so expensive and male about him. As you dip your head down, you drag your tongue along the underside of his cock and listen to his quick breath. The dribble of precum that lands on your tongue is a welcomed taste that you immediately endorse as you wrap your lips around the head of him. When you suck, Jonathan’s a goner, reduced to little grunts and tiny puffs through his lips. You’re guessing he doesn’t get laid much.

But a man of his temperament? You suppose he doesn't need to.

He’s hard by the time you’ve taken him down to your throat, your lips brushing his pelvic bone as the slightest gag tickles your throat. You moan as you come up, suckling around him before letting him slip out with a pop. Through grunts, Jonathan shakes his head as he looks down at you. “Come now, sweet girl,” he says. “You shouldn’t play with your food.”

It amuses you that he refers to himself as food. You were pretty sure this whole time he depicted himself the predator and you the prey, but you’re sure there’s an insinuation in there that still leaves him in charge. Either way, you just let a deep chuckle bubble in your chest as you take him again. His hand tangles in your hair, flexing there as he holds you with no real intent to guide you. Yet.

You bob your head up and down his length, keeping your rhythm slow and measured to tease him without actually teasing. And he lets you for a while, watching you with blinking eyes as you suck around him. When he’s fed up, his grip in your hair tightens. “You can do better than that, Cherry.”

You take his words for what they are and suck harder. His jaw clenches as he inhales sharply through his teeth. His gasping hand urges you on, guiding you up and down the length of him to feel his rising pleasure. You move faster, forgetting your teasing for the sake of the heat between your thighs. It grows as you listen to his irregular breaths, as you feel him twitch in your mouth. Your hand snakes between your thighs and teases your clit through the fabric of your cherry red panties.

Between your laving tongue and his tightened grasp, you make quick work of building him up. When you swear he’s on the verge of losing the remainder of his control, he pulls you off of him with the same sultry pop as earlier. He leans his head back and catches his breath, licking his chapped lips as his hand flexes in your hair.

A grin spreads over his lips as he lolls his head to take you in once again. “You’re something special. I knew you would be,” he says. “I wonder if your little cunt is as tight as your throat.”

His words send shivers down your spine, but you’re good at pretending they don’t. Or, at least, if he notices it, he doesn’t say anything. You slowly rise to your feet once more, crawling back into his lap in an attempt to kiss him again. As you lean in, his hand meets your throat as he keeps you away from him. He eyes you, a predatory gaze in his eyes watching your bated breath, your dark eyes, your fluttering lashes.

Without a word, he maneuvers you to lay on your back, his hand still wrapped securely around your throat as he spreads your legs wide. You bring a hand up to his arm, gripping it as you allow your nails to dig into the skin. He smirks, bringing a hand between your thighs and teasing the fabric covering your pussy.

He groans deep in his throat, chuckling to himself. “You’re so fucking wet. All from sucking my cock.” He presses his finger against your clothed clit and a tiny gasp leaves you. It’s a delicious sight. “You’ll do perfectly,” he says mostly to himself.

Another shudder runs down your spine, but this one is more perceptible. A dark chuckle arises from his chest as you watch him smooth his hands over your body, slowly, slowly stripping you of your clothes. Your tiny skirt being pulled down your legs, your decorative bra in all its lace being unhooked from your chest. He sighs contently at the sight of your bare breasts, one hand reaching up to cup you before he kneads the doughy flesh in his palms.

You moan at the feeling, your eyes fluttering closed as you arch your back against him. His finger flicks and circles your nipple, shooting an election shock straight to your core. Your clit pulses, needing him so badly to pay attention to it as he does your hardening nipples. His other hand brushes down your skin and dips beneath your panties, if not to give you what you want, then to remove them from your body. And he does, very, very slowly as he distracts you with his hot tongue on your sensitive nipple, his mouth latched on like he's starving.

What you're doing is dangerous. If anyone were to catch you, you would both end up in a lot of trouble—you probably more than him.

You could say he made you do it—technically he did; although considering your willingness, it probably doesn't matter. You could say he forced you down and ripped your clothes off, told you he would hurt you if you screamed. That would mean he broke the rules, he would be punished according to Gotham fashion.

But he could just as easily spill your secret on the table. He could tell everyone who you were, and that's more dangerous than being fired for having sex with a patron.

There are so few decisions, all with terrible outcomes that could lead to a very difficult life for you.

But you don't have the time to think about that when his mouth latches onto your pussy. Your back arches and your eyes squeeze shut as he licks into you. Your parted lips gasp for breath as his tongue plunges deep inside of your hot cunt. A deep groan shudders within you, and you bury your hands in his hair in an attempt at pulling him even closer.

He mumbles something against your soaked folds, pulling back with a sigh. “Fucking delicious,” he praises, diving back in with the drive of a starved man.

His fingers prod at your opening, pushing inside of you and filling you with the thickness of them. They curl and you curl with them.

You wrap your legs around his head and dig your heels into his back. When he sucks on your clit, you're a goner. Every lick and suck only grows your need for him, for this awful man who you cannot allow to cloud your judgment. But it's far too late for that. You roll your hips against his face, needing more but only receiving what he gives you—the deep coaxing of his fingers, the insistent licking of his tongue, the cruel sucking of his lips.

Your legs twitch as you near that desperate release. It's becoming too much. You need it so badly, you can almost taste it–

You whine when he pulls away from you, licking his lips as he pulls away. “You're so needy,” he chuckles. “As much as a needy whore as I thought you'd be. You know, this job suits you almost as much as plain prostitution would.”

You ignore him because he's annoying. You unhook your legs from his shoulders, moving to sit up with a hand on his chest. For the moment, he lets you lay him back against the arm of the sofa.

“I think it's unfair that I'm naked and you're still fully clothed,” you say, reaching for his buttons.

He hums. “Then you should fix that…”

You straddle his hips as you undo his buttons, taking your time in unlooping each individual one as more and more of his skin is revealed to you. You smooth your hands over the expanse of his chest, leaning forward to take his lips between your own. You sigh against him, your hands grasping his sides, and you can't help the way your nails dig into his skin and drag.

A strangled moan erupts from his throat, his head knocks back at the feeling. He reaches up to grab your arms, cupping your elbows as he grinds his teeth. A heavy breath escapes you, and you reach your hands down to undo his belt. “And you call me the whore,” you quip, a devilish smirk curving your lips.

Jonathan chuckles when you unzip his pants, lifting his hips to help you pull them down until he's completely bare, save for his shirt hanging off his shoulders.

You smirk, leaning down to ghost your lips over his. “I think I should make you beg.”

He raises an amused brow. “Do you now?” He leans forward as you shift away from his face. “And what makes you think I'd beg you for anything?”

“I just want to hear you say it.” Your lips barely brush his, pulling back when he pushes forward, pushing forward when he pulls back. “It's not a big deal. I just want you…to beg me…to fuck you.”

The pauses are where kisses should be. But you don't give them to him. You stare at him, your eyes taunting and your lips swollen from the abusive kisses they'd been granted earlier.

The more time you spend staring at him, the more intrigued he becomes by you. He could not have come across a better business partner…

“Fine,” he shrugs nonchalantly. You feel his cock twitch at the lips of your pussy, wanting so badly to be inside of you. He licks his lips, taking in the smallest breath, “Please, Miss Ruby…” he says as his hands find your waist. “Please fuck me. Please wrap that pretty little pussy around my cock and ride me like the good girl you are.”

You smirk as you shudder, his dominance over you mixing with his—albeit weak—begging for you creating such a sweet cocktail on your tongue.

“See?” you whisper, finally bending down to close the gap as you wrap your lips up in his. Pulling away, his teeth hold onto your lip before he lets it slap gently against your bottom teeth. “That wasn't so hard, was it?”

He grabs your hips and pulls you down, his perfectly aligned cock thrusting all the way into you in one fluid motion. Your moan is sudden, a trembling thing that makes your eyes flutter and your lips part so prettily. He grunts as he leans his head back. You can see the veins in his neck, his clenching jaw. You curl your fingers around his shoulders as you hold on tightly to them.

A quiet curse drops from your lips as you roll your hips on top of him. It's a deep roll, one of those movements that require your whole body to complete. He fills you with himself, and you can't help the shudder that comes from the way he encourages your hips.

Lifting up just barely to the tip of his cock, you drop yourself back down and allow a louder moan to fall out of you. Already drunk on the feeling, you chase it in quick succession, rising and falling and rising and falling until you create a steady rhythm full of the sounds of slapping skin, the slickness of your arousal mixing with his. It's easy to become addicted, it's easy to succumb to the feeling that is only this forbidden kind of pleasure.

You're a hero (of sorts), and he's a villain. You're not supposed to be riding his cock in the middle of a nightclub, moaning his name as he moans yours.

Your hands grasp eagerly at skin, each sudden spike of pleasure forces your nails to dig into his awaiting flesh. The groan he gives is nearly a whimper as he twitches inside of you.

When you look up, your eyes are caught in the reflection of a mirror across the room. The sight of your bodies moving together, the grinding, the thrusting, the grasping—your head is swirling with intoxication.

“Your thighs are shaking so much,” he huffs, his hands tightening on the meat of your thighs. He pushes you further down, and you nearly choke on your own breath.

Your eyes flutter at the mirror, stuck to the sight. “That's good, baby, keep doing that,” you moan, spurring on his desperation.

You actually whimper when he presses the pad of his thumb to your clit. In tight, quick circles, he builds you up as you continue to ride him. Your moans rise, high and breathy and way more pathetic than you intended for them to be.

“Jonathan,” you gasp. The roll of your hips becomes more demanding, short and quick. You're not going to last long like this. You squeeze your eyes shut, “Just a little harder.”

“You're so,” he huffs, “good for me.”

You know he hates it, but you're so blissed out that you can't bring yourself to care when you moan out to him. “Jon, I'm gonna cum.” You drop your head, gripping on tight and thrusting your hips. “Fuck, you're gonna make me cum.”

He doesn't seem to care either, his fingers still going on your clit. “I'm not going to let you cum until you beg me, sweetheart.”

It doesn't matter if it's supposed to be an indignity. Blissed out or not, you couldn't care less about begging him for anything. Your job was the pleasing of (usually) men. Even though you're not really supposed to be fucking them, there are other ways for them to take their pleasure without touching you.

So the words tumble effortlessly from your lips as you continue to grind. “Please, baby. Please let me cum, I need it,” you gasp, your words urgent and full of the need that's driving you.

His thumb rubs faster, rougher, keen on making you fall apart above him. That's all he wants right now, to feel you fall apart from the pleasure he gives to you.

When you do, it's with a muffled shout. Yes, the walls are thick, and yes, it's unlikely someone would hear you, but you don't want to take that chance as the pleasure raids your body. It soaks into your bones and leaves you trembling. You tighten around his cock as he groans, watching your eyes glaze over with the intensity of your release.

Your eyes squeeze shut, your lips part as you gasp for breath. Your hips stutter in their quest to draw out your orgasm for as long as you can as your thighs shake.

“Fuck.” The sound is nearly a sob, still struggling to come down from your high as you let out a couple more rolls. As you look down at him, your mind slowly coming back to you, you can't help your smirk as you stroke your hand over his chest. “You did so good. I'm so proud of you.”

Jonathan ignores the tiny swell of pride at your praise, sitting up to kiss you in that hungry way he seems to love. He pulls out of you as he continues to sit up, moving you backward until he's got you laying on your back. You look up at him, your hands playing with the hair at the base of his neck. Your limbs are heavy, your legs still twitching with the aftershocks of your release.

“Now that you've had your fun…” he says, as though he didn't enjoy watching you above him, riding his cock and telling him good he was making you feel. His teeth graze your jaw, nipping you as he does, “...it's my turn.”

You're still sensitive from your fresh release ,but you don't think he cares. It doesn't matter much anyway. You've concluded that this man is as good with manipulating bodies as he is with manipulating minds.

He takes your leg, spreading you wide to open you up as he pushes his cock back inside of you. You both sigh when he buries himself to the hilt, but you don't have time to relish the delicious stretch because he's already fucking into you, thrusting into you fast and rough, like this is his last chance to do it.

Your eyes squeeze shut, the oversensitivity pickling at you before it melds into the white hot pleasure of his cock. He fists the arm of the couch by your head, his knuckles white and his jaw clenched.

His hair falls over his forehead, sticking to the sheen of sweating coating his skin as his erratic breaths pass through his plump lips. A rough thrust has you whining his name, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and finding purchase at his back. He ruts into you like there’s no tomorrow, his grunts and groans fading in your mind as you lose yourself in the pleasure.

“Fuck, you're so tight,” he grunts. “I expected you to be well used, sweetheart, but this cunt feels fucking new.”

You know he's calling you a whore, but you really don't care. It brushes just right and sends tingles through your body, tingles that are drowned by the crashing waves of his desperation. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, holding you still.

You feel Jonathan's tongue dart out to lick a slip of your skin, and your breath shudders when his teeth graze at your flesh. It feels nice, the way he uses his teeth to mark you. His breaths pass as moans in your ear, and you can't help but to hold him closer, your nails sitting idly in their burrowed spots at his back.

On a rough thrust, he slips up as he clamps his jaw around your shoulder, nearly growling as he loses against his need to sink his teeth into you. The sudden pain that spasms from his bite shoots through you, and you can't help but to moan at the feeling. One of your hands flies to his hair, tangling in his dark locks and pulling lightly. “Fuck, yeah,” you sigh. “God, that feels so good, baby.”

He pulls away from your neck, though his thrusts never let up. He pins you down as he fucks you, reaching a hand out and bringing it down hard on your ass. You gasp at the feeling of his harsh slap, but it only elevates your pleasure until you're seeing stars.

He smacks you again, but your little cry turns into a whine as his thumb meets your clit. He's close. You can feel it. He clenches his teeth and presses his forehead to yours as he continues to fuck into you. Your head swarms with the taunting of a release, your breaths mingling and your mixed arousal smearing all over your skin, dripping onto the couch beneath you.

“Fuck, Jon. Baby, I'm gonna cum again.” You can't stop the words from coming out of you. They're heavy and demanding, they crave attention just like the rest of you.

His nose nudges your neck, inhaling your scent and muffling his higher pitched grunts. “Gonna cum in you, Ruby,” he huffs. “I'm gonna fuck my cum into this tight little pussy.”

His sloppy thrusts support his claim, replacing the measured pumps of his cock into an erratic rhythm that takes you too long to catch up to. You wrap your legs around his waist to pull him deeper. “Please,” you gasp. “I'm so close.”

His hips continue to snap into your own, shoving in hard and rough, reaching so deep that you think you'll be feeling him for days. The pad of his thumb on your clit continues to build you up, bringing you higher and higher until you can no longer control yourself. The coil in your gut snaps and sends you spiraling, your vision blurry and white as you gasp until you can no longer breathe. Jonathan's grunt is more of a whimper as you rake your nails down his back, certain that you're leaving your mark on him as he'd left his mark on you, trading his purple bruises in for angry red lines in his flesh.

A whiny kind of moan tears from your throat as you grind your hips into him, urging on your release. Jonathan moans as your walls spasm around him, clenching so tight. Your cry gets caught in your throat, the blunt head of his cock still pounding inside of you as you fall apart.

He uses you to his own end, his blinding release catching up just to spill inside of you, painting you in white. With a growl, his teeth sink into your shoulder again and they don't let up. The sharp pain mixes with the pleasure until it's all a blur behind glazed eyes.

It takes a while before the pleasure wanes enough for him to loosen up. “Good girl,” he coaxes, lost in the aftershocks of a powerful orgasm. Your legs shake and your jaw ticks as you continue to milk every last drop of his cum, ensuring none of it goes to waste.

Your breaths sound loud in your ears, both of your heavy sighs mixing together as you settle. He pets your hair, pulling away from your neck and watching you through lust-blown eyes. With as much strength as you can muster, you lean forward and push your lips against his. The kiss is just as demanding as the first few, but not as focused, your exertion adding to the laze of it.

With one last rough thrust—and a surprised cry from you—he pulls out of your full pussy. You whine at the empty feeling he leaves you with, especially when he lifts his weight off of you to stand. When he does, his eyes shut as he winces at the pain he finds in his back. Nevertheless, he stands to his feet and stretches his back, sighing at the few pops he finds in the process.

You lay lazily on the couch, an arm draped over your eyes as the other hangs off the cushion. You feel good, after a lazy stretch of your own (also accompanied by a few satisfying pops), you feel loose and limber.

Jonathan leaves you laying there as he redresses himself, taking time in buckling his belt, in buttoning his shirt, in adjusting his hair. You lounge on the couch, shifting onto your stomach and watching him through hooded eyes. You're dripping between your thighs, the air smells like sex, and you're going to have to take a very long shower after this, but you honestly couldn't care less.

You're going to have to figure out how to weasel out of this (temporary, if you can help it) deal of yours, but that's a thought for later. Right now…you're content.

He comes to stand in front of you, looking down as he reaches for his glasses. Placing them on the bridge of his nose, he smiles at you. “I look forward to seeing what we will be desecrating next, Miss Cherry.”

There's an insinuation in his words that alludes to the world outside of this club, ie…he knows where you live and he has no problem showing up to renew your deal. It's an issue and it erupts goosebumps all over your skin, but you feel too good to think about it.

You reach an arm out, wrapping it around his waist and pulling him forward. You open a button near his waist on his shirt, pressing your lips to the bare skin underneath. Then you look him in the eyes as you button it once more. “I will be seeing you, Dr. Crane.”

He chuckles, turning on his heel and walking toward the door. You look after him and hope you're not totally fucked.

Cillian Murphy taglist: @lyarr24​ @runnning-outof-time​ @goblinjnr @kmc1989 @shelbyisms @weepingwitchofthewest @cl-0-vr @thoticious @sinarainbows @the-nerdy-goddess @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bernelflo @dragonslayersupremacy @alurafairy @pietroxreader @darkcastle167 @neonpurplestars89 @motopoppp @mrkdvidal1989 @thegen3sisark @niktwazny303 Tag yourself here...

[supernova41st]

hiii ‼️‼️ I was wondering if you could do tf2 boys (any characters you want) with Mercy from overwatch reader 😭.

Heroes never die 🪽

Tf2 x Mercy!Reader

Scout/medic

A/n: SHES BAAAACK YUH YUHH BOOM SHACKALACKAAAAA YES GODDDD. Idk what else to say other than I hope y’all missed me!! Idk what my ‘schedule’ will be but just expect more posts in the future

Medic

Do I need to say anything? You don’t fw him at all. The differences are pretty clear, moral and sanity wise.

At first he was pretty interested to have another doctor on the team. But he quickly got jealous because the mercs took more of a liking to you than because of your gentleness.

“You’re with me doctor”

“Jou got it”

“Not you ya four-eyed twap! The angel”

“Oh, thank you ☺️”

Resurrecting heavy

“Doctor! We must try this resurrection thing!”

“You too???”

He hates you now, you’re not really fond of him either. Not only does he practice medicine with no license but his procedures are so inhumane compared to yours.

“Thank my medical professionalism, Ludwig.”

“Oo Klugscheißer, miss perfect!! Fuck you.”

He genuinely thinks you’re an Angel here to make his life more difficult cuz from what I heard he’s had his fair share of dealing with satan.

He’s interested in your work but will never EVER ask you about it because of his pettiness. Will try to recreate your resurrection skills however it looked less like a resurrection and more like dragging a zombie out of its grave.

When he showed it off to you you were terrified

“Now if we just grunt just help our little subject on his feet, he’ll be as good as new!”

“Celestial! Ludwig please put him out of his misery!!”

“Vhat? Nonsense, he’s fine!”

*he says as his his subjects body collapses

He got so thirsty for you when he saw you pistol whipping an enemy scout for him, it startled him so he thought it was hot

“Whew, careful out there Ludwig”

“…please, please take my heart. I vill have it taxidermied for you and everything!”

“What 🙁”

Now he’s become obsessed, pockets you every round and the team is not thrilled about that. It is fun to see you fly around landing headshots at the enemy team tho

Scout

This man had ZERO fucking idea you were even on the team until he began a mission with you. So when he was on the edge of dying and you flew over to lend a helping hand he frl thought god sent an angel to save him.

He didn’t even say anything he was just in shock like

‘😦..I’m the chosen one’

When he got back to the base everything felt so surreal to him, but then he immediately started bragging about it cuz it’s scout.

“Omgg do y’all have a guardian Angel? 🤭No? Fucking losers”

“Are you talking about y/n?”

“Who?”

“Hello”

“..oh”

He was so let down 😭 he had a genuine ‘I’m special’ moment there

You get so tired of him so fast. It’s always something with him, he’s like a little boy always getting injured and crying to his mom to pull out the first-aid kid

“Y/n, I lost a friggin’ tooth again”

“Seriously scout? This is the fifth one this week! Next time you’re going to medic for this.”

Free my boy, he didn’t do anything wrong 😞

Loves it when you resurrect him, makes him feel like a ‘newborn baby’

“Did it hurt?”

“Scout I’m busy I don’t have time for your pick up lines.”

‘:(‘

This bitch will do ANYTHING but stay still so you can heal him. It’s like he’s running away from you??

“🏥🏥🏥🏥🏥”

“SCOUT PLEASE GET DOWN HERE!!”

“THEYRE SHOOTING 🏥”

“YOU THINK THIS IS NEWS TO ME?”

Will try hopping on you when you’re flying, it didn’t go well.

“Are you gonna heal my legs now?”

“No! That’s on you for being stupid”

“When are you gonna give me a pair of those wings doc? I was born to fly 👽”

[legs-like-jelly]

Howdy ho! I love you're fanfics and was wondering if maybe you could do a Lee Starscream? The ler can be your choice

I just know Starscream needs to get wrecked, he's such a goober X3

thanks to u and these two anons(one of which i know who it is-) i can write this fic!! thanks so much!!

How Childish!

Lee: Starscream

Ler: Bumblebee

(please note that this fic takes place during SEASON 3 of Earthspark and will contain minor spoilers!)

It was another day at the Autobot Base. Starscream found himself holed up yet again in that stupid prison cell. And he hated being holed up. The seeker's wings twitched with annoyance, which caught the attention of the mech that was so graciously assigned to keep him in check.

Bumblebee.

"You know, you'd be able to fly if you didn't spend so much of your life terrorizing innocent people," The scout spoke. He stood outside of the cage, scrolling through a datapad.

"Yes because trapping mechs that are meant to fly is totally a moral high ground!" Starscream scoffed, wings twitching with increasing irritation.

Bumblebee sighed and put a servo on his hip. "What, do you want me to take you on a walk?"

"I am not a dog!" The seeker hissed while Bumblebee put in a pin to unlock the door.

"Come on, I know that look. You never complain about wanting to go outside as much as you have today," The scout pinched his wing, trying to drag Starscream along.

"eeEEEK!!" The seeker squealed, startling the other mech.

"What was that?!?!" Bumblebee exclaimed. "Nearly blew out my audials."

Starscream was trying his best not to squirm, to no avail. His servos flew to his intake, trying to suppress his giggles. Bumblebee's optics widened as he let go.

"Don't tell me...you're TICKLISH??!" The scout yelled, making the other mech freeze up.

"I-i'm not! That would be childish," The other mech spoke before dissolving into giggles from another pinch at his wing.

"You are!" Bumblebee gasped. Starscream was quiet for a while before tugging his wing away and bolting out the open door.

"On no you don't!" Bee yelled before transforming and zooming down the hall after him. Starscream let out a yelp before picking up the pace. The seeker cut a corner, sprinting down the next hall towards Wheeljack's lab.

"YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME, LITTLE BEE!" Starscream yelled as he hopped over a few crates in the way. Bumblebee drove up the wall and promptly flipped, landing right on top of the other mech.

"Gotcha, fly boy!" The yellow mech exclaimed, wiggling his digits tauntingly. The seeker kicked his legs, trying to wriggle out from underneath him.

"ehehe- no, NO YOU WOUHOULDN'T!!" The seeker squeaked, trying to curl up on himself.

"Wouldn't what? Tickle you? Why are ya so scared? Is it cause you're ticklish?" Bumblebee teased while his finger's moved in on the seeker's wings.

"NOHOHO DON'T SAY THAHAAAT!!" Starscream shrieked, immediately dissolving into giggles.

"What? Tickle? Tickletickletickle!" He teased, digits lightly grazing the metal of Starscream's wings.

"STAHAHAHAAP!! SHUT UP SHUT UHUPP!!!" The plane mech squeaked, banging his fist on the ground.

"Aw but if I shut up, I can't tell you when I've found all your sweet spots! Lets tryyy..." Bumblebee's voice trailed off as he looked for a spot to start with. His servos briefly hovered over the back of his knees.

"Whahat are you- EHEHEHEHEKAHAHA!!-" The seeker was caught off guard by digits scribbling on the backs of his thighs. He thrashed about, wings fluttering frantically behind him.

"Oh, did I find a bad spot? Does it tickletickletickle there? Did I find one of your giggle buttons?" Bee teased, inching his hands over to pinch and prod at the back of Starscream's knees.

"HEHEHE- SNRK!! NOHOHOHO NOT THEHEHERE!!" The seeker cackled, burying his helm in his arms.

"Not there? Then where, fly boy? You gotta speak up so the Tickle Monster and get ya proper-like!"

"DOHON'T CALL YOURSELF THAHAHAT!!" Starscream giggled into his arms. Bumblebee tsked at him while moving his servos danced across the seeker's wings.

"What, are you scared of the TickleTickleTickle Monster?" The scout smirked to himself and briefly got off Starscream before flipping him onto his back. "Too bad, cause he wants to see your smile!"

"LIKE THE PIT YOU DO!!" Starscream yelled, keeping his faceplate covered with his servos.

"That's too bad! Guess I'll have to use my ultimate trick..."

Starscream uncovered his faceplate, peeking down at the scout. His optics widened with awe as little sparks flew off the scout's fingers.

"you wouldnt-" He squeaked while fingers inched closer to his chassis.

"Oh, but I would!" Bee smirked before stopping just above the metal of Starscream's stomach.

"Youhou're EVIL!" The jet squealed, kicking his pedes behind the scout.

"Funny coming from the evilest mech I know!" Bee retorted while feathering two digits along Starscream's sides. Short little electric shots shot through the plating.

"SNRK- HEHEHEHEHEHEEHE!! THAT TI- SNRK-" Starscream felt his faceplate heat up and tint bright pink.

"It what? Tickles? Come on, you can say that, can't you?~" The bee cooed, knowing damn well the answer. "Come on, tell me how much it tickles, fly boy!" The mech's little shocks traveled downwards while he started to knead the seeker's hips.

"IHIHIT TICKLES SOHOHO BAHAAAAD!! QUIHIT IT!!" Starscream wheezed out, hitting his servo on the ground next to them.

"You really want me to stop?" Bumblebee hummed while slowing down his tickles.

"PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!! HIC- HAVE MERCY!!" The other mech squealed.

"Fine, fine. I won't kill you," Bumblebee lifted his servos and helped the other mech sit up. Starscream leaned on the other's shoulder, still sort of giggly.

"Need some energon?" Bee spoke while his servo rubbed small circles into the seeker's back. Starscream's wings flicked upwards.

"I don't need your pity!...But that does sound nice right about now."

"Whatever you say, fly boy."

FIN.

~~~~~~

HI TYSM FOR READING I CAN'T BELIVE THIS TOOK THREE SAYS....actually i know why it took three days i have a wrist injury-

BUT!! I hope you enjoy my starbee propaganda 😈😈😈

As Always: Please read Pinned Post Before Sending a Request

[miintsprigz]

Hiii again!! I wanted to ask for Sniper, Engie, and Scout reacting to the reader doing something nice for them after they had a tough day. Thank you!!

Anon, I had been wanting the opportunity to do something like this, so bless you, and I hope that you enjoy this! I sorta zoomed through Sniper’s, I hope it’s still good aaaa

Characters: Scout, Engineer, Sniper (TF2)

Warnings: none that I can think of—I made myself very soft while working on this

GN!Reader doing something nice for the Mercs after a tough day

Scout:

You’d noticed for some time that work really seemed to be running Jeremy down more than usual. He came back to base moody, unusually quiet. It was so unlike him.

Thinking back to just a few months ago…what a difference. You remembered how enthusiastically he’d come running in, holding something behind his back…quickly revealed to be a bouquet of bright red roses just for you.

“I didn’t know what your favorite was, so I thought I’d just got wit da classic!”

You had asked a question after that though, one you were especially glad you’d asked now.

“What’s your favorite flower, babe?”

“Me? …huh. Never really thought about that.”

You watched the wheels turn a bit, and a nostalgic kind of look came over him. Jeremy was quite the sentimental guy, if you hung out with him long enough.

“I think one time I got Ma these big yellow ones…lilies? They were real pretty. Smelled nice too. Probably those.”

So one day, a while before you knew he’d be getting back, you went on the hunt. Yellow lilies were tricky to find, but eventually, you secured a whole bunch and had them nicely wrapped up for your favorite fella.

You enjoyed their fragrance as you waited for Jeremy to get back…they truly were beautiful. You could see why he liked them.

Finally, the door swung open, and you quickly hid the bouquet behind your back, just as he had.

He looked exhausted…of course, his face lit up as soon as he saw you. “Ah, finally home. How ya doin’, doll? Sight for sore eyes, as always.”

“I’m good. I got a little surprise for you.”

His brows arched, curious, and you could see that infectious smile that seemed so rare these days beginning to appear again. “Oh yeah?”

“Well okay, might not be too surprising, but…” You sheepishly grinned as you held out his gift. “…I found some.”

Scout’s mouth dropped open just a bit before he couldn’t help but burst out laughing, delighted. “Aw, baby…they’re beautiful!”

You motioned for him to take them, and he did, admiring them with a softness to his gaze. Only seconds later, as he looked up at you, that trademark, somewhat mischievous grin came to his face.

You chuckled. Your boy was back. “Whatcha thinkin’ there?”

“C’mere, you~” He pulled you in and kissed you before you could even prepare.

His free hand lightly brushed through your hair as he pulled back, seeming to be at a genuine loss for words. “You are so sweet, ya know that? I love you.”

Giggling, you pecked his lips once more. “I love you too.”

___

Engineer:

Poor Dell had really been pushed to his limit lately. It felt like you hardly saw him anymore. He was always working on something. The demand kept on coming.

Lately, you had to get up early to get any decent quality time with him before he went to work. When he got home, he always just wanted to go right to sleep, and you certainly couldn’t blame him.

He felt bad, and told you as much, but you knew it wasn’t his fault. “Get your rest, honey. I know you’re tired.”

Even in the morning, he was always up before you were, and had breakfast ready to go. You talked as you ate.

So, after Engie had come back in especially rough shape the night before, with his first day off in months the following day, you decided to surprise him.

You were not, by any means, an early riser. But you had a feeling that Dell wouldn’t sleep in long, even on his day off. You’d even gone to sleep a bit early the night before.

Ever the keen-eyed one, Engie had questioned that. “Goin’ out already, lil’ nightingale?”

“Yeah, I’m sleepy. Besides, we got all day tomorrow, right?”

“Yessiree.”

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you got everything together. It was a whole lot of work, mixing up batter, making sure everything was cooked just right, and of course making the presentation easy on the eyes. But it would all be worth it.

Finally, you were all set. You scurried to his room, knocking to see if he was up.

“Almost ready, darlin’! I’m a little late, sorry ‘bout that…”

“Don’t worry about it, Engie, take your time…” Last thing your cowboy needed was to be rushed around on his day off.

Opening the door, he beamed at you. “Well, look at you! All bright-eyed and bushy-tailed already, huh? I got a feelin’ we’re gonna have a grand day, you ‘n’ me.”

“Oh, just you wait…I’ve got something for ya, baby. C’mon…”

“Whoa, okay—I had a feelin’ you were up to somethin’ last night, ya lil’ schemer…”

You just laughed, excitedly pulling Dell along by the hand.

“Okay, right in here.”

The still sleepy eyes that were normally hidden behind his goggles blinked quick in genuine astonishment as he took it in.

“Well…good word, that’s like the cover of a magazine there, darlin’! You do this all by yer lonesome?”

“Mhm! I got up early in the hopes that I’d beat you to it—can’t have you working hard on your day off! Just hope it tastes good…”

“It will, baby, I’m sure of it…” He trailed off a bit, and as you glanced over, you couldn’t get a grasp on what exactly was going through his head. Seemed happy at least. Maybe you were used to seeing only half of his face. But then he rubbed at his eyes just a bit…

“Oh, baby…you okay?”

“Yeah…just fine, darlin’, sorry, circuits are still a lil’ fried…” He sniffled, and without much thought you wrapped your arm around him, stroking his shoulder.

“Been real tough goin’ lately, real tough…wasn’t feelin’ like myself no more. And ya did all this just for me…for us…”

He leaned his head to the side so it rested softly against yours, taking a deep breath. “Thank you, (Y/N). You are a wonder. I adore you, you know that?”

You chuckled, pulling him close. “Thank you, Dell. I adore you too.”

You felt him jolt a little, but he made sure to kiss you quick before he moved at all. “Please tell me you’re havin’ some a’ this—”

“Yeah! Wanted to make breakfast for you, but eat it with you too.”

“Well, we better not let it get cold now, after ya worked so hard! C’mon, baby…”

You laughed as you were now the one being pulled along, with Engie still praising your hard work and delicious cooking every step of the way.

_____

Sniper:

Lately, Mick hadn’t been telling you what was going on at work…which was weird. Normally, he really liked his job, and told you all about it. Lately though, he’d answered “how was work?” with the vaguest responses.

Sniper wasn’t the type of guy to word vomit about what was bothering him, but that cued you in pretty well.

You wanted to do something to help him, something to lift his spirits again. It took some time, but eventually, you hatched a plan.

One day, instead of waiting back at his camper, you made your way over to where the mercs normally exited the fort.

You waved to the rest as they ran past, more than a few asking what you were doing here. They could figure it was something to do with your boyfriend.

Mick was the last to leave…which was a bit weird. Must have really been working hard.

“Hey, Snipes!” Immediately, his head turned at the sound of your voice, taking a surprised step backwards before he quickly ran and skidded to a stop in front of you.

“(Y/N)? …whatcha doin’ all the way out here, darlin’? Everything alright?”

He looked…confused, but delighted.

“Yeah! I had an idea the other day…and I wanted to meet up with you a little bit earlier so I had more time for it. Let’s go back to the camper so you can change, then I’ll show ya what I mean.”

His eyes narrowed, trying not to smile at this. “Hm…alright. Keep ya secrets for now…”

It was only a moment before his fingers intertwined with yours as you started the short walk back. He tended to be a bit flighty when it came to physical contact, but you understood that.

Once Sniper was done getting ready, you grabbed the basket you’d kept hidden away. “All set?”

“Yep…ya want me blindfolded for this or somethin’?”

“Nah, I don’t want you to trip. Just follow me.”

You followed the path you’d drawn out the other day, although you’d come out here before you’d left the camper to lay out the blanket and get everything all comfortable.

Just as you’d planned, you got to the spot just in time to see the sun go down, and the stars had just started to appear.

A spot near a river, where the only sounds were from the wind and water, with the occasional birdsong and cricket chirp.

You’d had some help on this—Pyro, of all people, providing you with the necessary equipment and tinder for a little campfire. They’d been surprisingly helpful, even though you couldn’t understand them at all.

“I thought it might be nice to enjoy the nice weather and some dinner…oh, and uh, s’mores, if you want. I brought stuff for that.”

The normally more reserved and serious Sniper stood there for a moment, looking everything over. Slowly, this very peaceful smile came to his face.

You were used to him being quiet, but you just had to know what he made of all this.

“I know it’s sorta cheesy, but I hope—whoa!!”

Mick suddenly pulled you in close, holding you tight. You quickly returned the gesture, feeling the side of his face sort of brush against the top of your head.

“…I don’t got much words for this. Besides thank you. Ya have any idea how much I wanted to do somethin like this with ya, roo?”

You laughed a bit, closing your eyes. “Well, I wouldn’t have exactly guessed this, but…I had a feeling you’d been having a tough couple days.”

“You were right.” It took a good while before he pulled back, and even then, his hand still clasped yours. “I was.”

The firelight illuminated his eyes, and although the mellow tone of voice stayed the same, you could see it in his face just how moved he was.

“But that doesn’t even matter to me now. Cuz right now…it’s just you, me, and the stars, baby…c’mon.”

Going slightly rosy—you hoped he couldn’t see in the shadows that the dim light casted—you followed him, and the two of you sat down to enjoy your s’mores and each other’s company.

By the end of the night, both of you laid back on the blanket, full, warm, and happy, curled up together as you watched the stars glimmer above.

You felt a slight tap against your shoulder. “Mm? What’s up, Mick?”

He glanced to the side, once again gaining that shyness that tended to creep up on him. “…ya know how much I love ya?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, moving over a bit to kiss him briefly, eyes fluttering closed.

You pulled back, teasing, “Does that answer your question?”

He looked back at you, starry-eyed and red-faced, starting to laugh along with you.

“Hehe, yeah…yeah it does.”

“But seriously, I love you too—”

[engiebabey]

AAAAAA your fics are so cute!!! :D I rlly loved ur babysitter scout hcs, I was wondering if I could rq a oneshot of scout finding out that reader regresses? :> /nf thank u!

—@little-t-rex-boi

of course!! i love writing for him (i say that abt all the mercs tho teehee). regression age is not mentioned but it's somewhere between 2-4! reader uses sippy and a pacifier. this was a little shorter than i wanted it to be so i'll probably expand on it in the future!

warnings: use of pacifier, use of sippy cup

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Today had been great. You had spent the afternoon chilling around the base with the other mercenaries, as it had been a day off from battle. The opportunity for rest was always a great surprise, and you just had to take the chance to use it to its fullest

Evening was approaching quickly, though, and you were starting to regress for nighttime, a habit you found yourself slipping into. You were small enough that you had stopped talking in full sentences and had opted out of playing poker, instead choosing to watch as the men gathered around the table competitively.

"Hey, ya sure you don't wanna play?" Scout asked, noticing that you were quieter than usual. He didn't want to make you feel left out. "There's always room for one more, ya know."

When you shook your head "no" instead of giving a real response, he raised an eyebrow, but turned back to his set of cards anyways. He could tell something was up, but chose not to mention it in front of the others.

Eventually, you toddled off, not wanting to fully regress with the rest of the team present. As you retreated to your living quarters, you retrieved your paci, humming to yourself as you sucked on it and pulled out your coloring book to play with.

It had only been a half hour until the team was done with their game, and Scout was suspicious on where you had gone off to. He slunk past the others to go looking for you, standing in front of your door for a moment, taking a deep breath before knocking.

"Uh, hey Y/N, don't tell me you're sleepin' already, it's only 6pm!" he says from the other side of the closed door. When he doesn't get a response, he tries again, "You in there?"

Gently, he pushes the door to find it unlocked, swinging open. There you are, sat on the floor with a pacifier in your mouth, scribbling nonsense onto a picture of Pinkie Pie, making little noises.

When you hear Scout come in, your head whips around, but you make no urgent move to cover yourself, too regressed to care. The both of you stare at each other for a moment, his eyes dropping to the different aspects you've got around you before speaking again.

"Y/N.. you alright? What's all this?" he asks. No answer again, you just coo and look at him with round, curious eyes. "Okay. Whatcha doin'?"

He sits next to you on the ground, pointing to your pictures. "You, uh, like drawin'?" He's unsure what to say, not wanting to upset you. However, you seem perfectly fine and happy with yourself, so he rolls with it.

You gently start to grab for his hat, your little fingers gripping the brim as you tug at it, wanting it. "Whatcha doin' kid, you want my hat?" he chuckles, taking it off his own head and setting it on yours. "That's pretty cute." he says aloud, looking at you with your pacifier and his hat, blinking up at him.

You pat your own head, now covered by his hat, and reach behind you to curate your sippy cup. Using two hands, you hold it up a little too close to Scout's face, speaking for the first time in a few hours. "Juice?" you mumble from around your paci.

"You want juice, kiddo?" he smiles softly, taking the cup from your hands. "Alright, let's go get juice." He stands up, shaking his hand for you to grab. When you clutch on to only one of his fingers, his heart melts.

"Big brudder," you mutter, following after him as he leads you to the kitchen. He stops for a moment, reeling at the fact that you called him that on your own.

"Yeah, toots? Ya need somethin' else?"

"No," you shake your head, "Jus' like you, see." You point to the hat again. "Match."

"Yeah, kid, I see." Scout gives you a toothy grin, placing his free hand on your head and ruffling it a little.

"Just like big brother."

[th3tism]

Wsg homie, I'm back and ready for mischief (and to laugh my ass off) so, what would the mercs do if they saw their SO matching with Medic in a dress and heels (me and you both know he can probably walk in them) mercs spy, scout, engi, and soldier (add who ya want) thanks migo👍🏽

Dude I love the head cannon that medic can wear heels, idk why 😭

Mercs: scout, spy, engineer, soldier

Scout:

He's a little surprised that medic can walk in heels but he doesn't question it

Then he sees you

Oh boy.

His face turns bright red IMMEDIATELY

He thinks you look so pretty holy shit

You best believe you're getting your ass tapped by him

"hey, scout how do I look?"

"... Smash."

Soldier:

He never really saw the appeal of people in dresses and dressing up fancy and stuff

But then you did.

He understood.

He thought you looked absolutely stunning

"Hey, babe! How do I look?"

"Private... You are the finest piece of ass these American eyes have ever seen."

Spy:

He thinks you look really good

He probably steals a few glances as you talk to the other mercs in that outfit

You didn't have any time to ask him before that sneaky little bitch appeared behind you

"That dress looks wonderful on you, mon ami. Though I feel you'd look better without it."

And then he disappeared

Engineer:

He's gonna be the most wholesome guy about it

Just saying random compliments and praising how you look in it

"Hey, engi, what do ya think?"

"Darlin, I think you look prettier than a picture."

He'd probably also pull some shit scout did and slap your ass (gently ofc. He doesn't wanna bruise you or anything 💀)

[kouchabu-archive]

Hajime Shino 4☆ Feature Scout 2

Title: President Grass and Pizza

Writer: Suika

Season: Summer

NOTE: I EXPLICITLY PROHIBIT USAGE OF ANY PART OF MY TRANSLATIONS ON ANYTHING THAT RELATES TO AI.

-----------

Rinne: (Hehe, today’s my lucky day!)

(Who knew I'd bag a big win in the slot machines today! Ain't that enough to make up for my losses this month?)

(I thought that of course I'd come home and celebrate, but I pro'lly got carried away and bought too many ingredients.)

(Well, not that I need to worry about leftovers when Niki's right there.)

(I gotta get back quick and let Niki—… Hm? That guy over there is…)

Hajime Shino-kun from Ra*bits, ain't it?

Hajime: Amagi-senpai? Hello~

Rinne: He~ya. Thrillin' to know that you remember this li'l ol' me's name.

So, what're ya hidin’ in the grass for? Up to somethin’ sneaky?

Are you buryin’ treasure or somethin'? Ya look like a little puppy digging like that~

Hajime: Oh, no. I just came to pick these up.

Rinne: Huh. Your bag has…some leaves and grass?

Hajime: That's right! I got quite a lot of them ♪

Rinne: Pickin' up wild grass, huh… Why?

Hajime: ? I'm going to eat them, of course?

Rinne: ………Ah, I got it. I can see what you're up to now.

That's for a TV show, isn't it? You should've told me earlier~

Hajime: Oh, this isn't for TV though? It's just that I got a craving for it since it's been a while since I ate these so I went here and got some.

Rinne: ………………

(From what I remember, aren't Ra*bits supposed to be a popular unit?)

(Well, not as much as UNDEAD or Akatsuki from the same agency but… each member seems to be goin’ strong in their own way, right?)

(So to see him here picking up grass like this… Never thought they're in deep shit that they can't even properly keep their stomachs full.)

'S that so? But ain't Seisoukan fully stocked with food? There's also lots of snacks in the ES break room, yeah?

If you're havin' trouble finding something to eat, ain't those better places to search in?

If anyone sees their precious idol foraging for grass in a place like this, that's not really a good look with the public, y'know?

Hajime: Trouble finding something to eat…?

Ah, no! You've got it wrong! I'm not gathering grass like this because I'm having trouble with money!

When I got on the phone with my family, we happened to talk about how we used to eat grass a lot when I was younger.

And then I just suddenly craved that nostalgic taste so I came here to pick these up. I normally eat properly, so please don't worry that much about it~

Rinne: Oh, so that's it? You made me uncharacteristically nervous for a sec there.

Hajime: I'm sorry for making you worry.

Rinne: Nah, don't mind it. My fault for jumpin' to conclusions so fast.

In fact, those grass growin' out there are delicious too. I also used to forage for them back when I was a li'l boy so I get ya, Hajime-kun.

I even used to go to the mountains to pick up some edible wild plants.

Thanks to that, I got some basic stuff down when it comes to edible grass. This one and this one can be eaten. This one's not. This one's edible too, but it's not really good.

Hajime: Wow! You didn't miss any! You're really knowledgeable about them!

Rinne: Hehe, told ya right? This ol' me won't ever lie ♪

This one's tasty if you blanch it a little. And this one's something that only Niki could munch on.

Hajime: Huh?! Shiina-senpai can eat this? I had an upset stomach when I ate this one by mistake.

Rinne: Yeah, same here. After eating it, I felt like dyin' the next day—couldn't move at all. But that guy's all fine and dandy.

Maybe it's got somethin' that only his stomach can digest. He's the one who cooked it, after all.

Hajime: Shiina-senpai is really good with cooking, isn't he? ♪

Rinne: Yeah. That guy's real good with his hands when it comes to food. Everything he makes is delicious. When I get home, I'll have him cook for me; that's why I got a lot of stuff here with me.

Hajime: Oh, that's indeed a lot. Let's see… Cheese, ketchup… There's also salami and basil… Are you planning to make pizza?

Rinne: Spot on ♪ Niki's pizza's always bangin', y'know? I end up eating too much if I don't watch it.

Hajime: Fufu, that's wonderful! Are you celebrating something today?

Rinne: Celebrating? No, not really…

Hajime: Huh? Is it okay to eat pizza on a normal day?

Back in my home, I was taught that pizza is a treat that you only eat on special occasions.

Rinne: Oh, is it now?

My bad, my bad. You're right, Hajime-kun. Of course, today is a special day~

And it's somethin' so important that we can't ever, ever forget about! None other than President Pizza's birthday!

Hajime: President Pizza's birthday?! I never knew about the existence of someone that great!

Rinne: You don't know him, Hajime-kun?! Man, that's really, really bad.

Hajime: W-What's wrong with it…?

Rinne: When it's President Pizza's birthday, everyone's gotta feast on some pizza.

If you only knew about it today, then I guess Hajime-kun never got to eat anything these past years, huh…

If that's the case, then it ain't good if you don't eat all those years' lost servings of pizza…

Hajime: All those years' lost servings of pizza… Are you saying that I should eat 17 years' worth of them?!

Rinne: Ah, then what I have here won't be enough. I gotta get back and grab some more ingredients, huh…

Hajime: I can't possibly eat that much!

Can't you do something to help me?! If I eat that much pizza, I'll end up hating it!

Rinne: Pfft… Ha…

Kyahahaha! Your reaction's takin' me out, Hajime-kun!

Hajime: This isn't a laughing matter! Uuu~ what am I supposed to do now?

Rinne: Don't ya worry your pretty li'l head. I was just messin' with you. That's a lie.

Hajime: A lie..? From which point was it a lie?

Rinne: Everything startin' from President Pizza's birthday.

Hajime: So, uhm… I don't have to stuff myself full of pizza until my stomach explodes?

Rinne: Yup. President Pizza doesn't exist.

Hajime: T-Thank god…

Rinne: I didn't expect you'd just take all of that without even questioning me.

You gotta put it in your head to suspect people a little more from now on, 'kay? Shino "Majime"-kun~ ♪ [1]

Hajime: Geez, you're so mean to deceive me like that, Amagi-senpai! You really scared me back there!

Rinne: Come on, sorry for bein' like that~

Oh, got it. As an apology for messin' with ya, lemme treat you to some pizza.

Hajime: …Are you sure you're not lying this time?

Rinne: Kyahahaha! Talk about a fast learner! Ya immediately got on your toes and suspected me! You take things so seriously. You really are Majime-kun, huh?

Hajime: M-My name is "Hajime"!

Rinne: Yessir~ Come on, let's bounce back home and have a feast! ♪

And while we're at it, let's use those grass you picked and make some wild grass pizza!

Hajime: W-Wah, please don't just drag me around, Amagi-senpai!

-----------

Translation: Sophie

Proofreading: Ara

NOTES:

[1] “Majime” / まじめ = lit. means as a person who’s earnestly sincere and honest, and therefore takes things seriously at its face value. It’s a syllable off Hajime’s name, which makes it funnier given how Rinne has a penchant for giving silly nicknames to people he encounters.

Also can I just point out how Hiiro, who’s actually Hajime’s classmate and therefore theoretically closer to him, calls him “Shino-kun” (last name) while Rinne calls him “Hajime-kun” (first name) right off the bat. I just think his shamelessness is hilarious LOL

[axelthegreat101]

Mercs reaction to having a young teen reader (who also might possibly be trans if you don't mind) who joins the team? Maybe they are super shy at first but warm up quickly and start to see the men as father figures/family.

Thank you so much!

-🎾

YAY!! Another request!! I LOVE YOU ANON!

Scout, Pyro, and Demoman with a Teen! Trans Masc Reader (Platonic)

Note: They/Them Pyro

⚾️ Scout ⚾️

When he first met you, boy was hyped

Finally he’s not the youngest on the team

He’s the first to come up and greet you, slinging his arm around your shoulders and practically dragging you inside

He doesn’t really get why you’re so shy at first, often hiding in your room or not speaking much

He’s persistent though, often pulling you out of your hiding places and constantly talking your ear off

You started to warm up to him over time, him as an older brother

When he finds out about that, it’s a huge ego boost for him

Pretty neutral in terms of your gender identity, often giving you pointers on how to be more masculine

He once offered to beat up a random stranger for insulting you about your trans identity, to which you smiled shyly at how much he cared about you

”Ay, don’t worry toots, ol’ Scout here’s gonna protect ya.”

🔥 Pyro 🔥

When they found out that there was going to be a new recruit, he was really excited, because yay! A new friend!

They might be a bit confused about your shyness, because what? What do you have to be shy about?

But with the more time you spend around them, the more you start to feel comfortable around them, viewing them as a younger sibling

Their pretty chill about your gender identity, and they make little gifts for you in the colours of the trans flag

“Mmh mmph!” “Oh hey Pyro. Is that for me?” “Mmhmm!” “Aw, thanks buddy”

🍺 Demoman 🍺

He’s probably the friendliest guy on the team

He’ll greet you with a one armed hug and one of the warmest smiles ever

He might be a bit skeptical about having someone your age on the team, but he keeps his friendly demeanour

Sadly he can’t take you to the bar because of your age, but he does like to sit with you at the base and talk with you

Pretty supportive of your gender identity. “Aye, you don’t have to worry lad. No friend o’ mine is gonna feel uncomfortable in their own skin.”

Will beat up anyone who tries to insult you about your gender identity

Oml, this was another fun one to write. To whoever requested this, I’m sorry I didn’t do all the mercenaries, I was feeling tired and couldn’t concentrate, so I hope these three will be okay.

[clownclot]

Where I End and You Begin

Spydad angst ????? | read on ao3

The first time he meant to tell him, he'd been too scared.

Spy had found contentment in taking this secret to the grave. With his features concealed and Scout's infant memories obscure, the man was anyone else. Another scornful pair of eyes, someone who Scout could chalk up to a teammate and nothing more. Spy knew to keep his distance, silence his pride and act as though nothing was wrong. Knew if he said anything, he would hate him.

Spy did not like to disappoint, but it seemed to be the only thing he knew how to do.

Mornings at the table, singing nonsense songs while he clapped his hands in his high chair and his brothers chased eachother through the hall. Boys went to school, Spy was offduty. Watched him play while he read the paper, held him when he cried for him. Spy figured they had a special connection. He loved the others, but they did not reach for him the way the little one did. Outstretched hands, rolls of fat, a big, toothless grin. He was his boy.

Had he imagined the tears the night he left? The more he reminisced, the more unsure he was; and Spy did nothing but reminisce.

At night, Spy lay in his cot. He always was a light sleeper. He was well-acquainted with short nights, his job required it, but it had been the baby that had helped him master it. He used to wait for the wails, and when the mercenaries began to bunk together, he'd picked the habit back up.

"Scout."

"Wha?"

"I am trying to sleep."

"Oh. Okay, sorry."

"D'accord, Je vais mordre. What is with the tears?"

"Huh? I'm not cryin'! I'm..laughing."

"..."

"Okay, fine. It's just..I miss my ma."

He was the same little boy, but he did not need his father. Spy was not sure why he had thought otherwise. Twenty-four years of absence awards no man a pair of open arms. He loathed the wishful thoughts that littered his conscience. For hours, he lurched out of his armchair, eyes glued into the depths of a fire until it ate through its lifeline and became nothing but a pile of ash. He felt six feet under, a silent corpse who could not outstretch his hands to a boy, now a man, who stood at his headstone and did not recognise the name or date, nor cared to.

He knew he was a disappointment, a failure of a father. How many other men had uprooted themselves from that apartment? Spy had a hundred excuses that could pardon him, but when he thought it through, he knew he was no better than them. He could have stayed, if he'd tried hard enough.

"Can I have a cigarette?"

"Pardon?"

"Are ya deaf?"

"I had no clue you smoked."

"I... don't."

"Ah, then don't start."

There was a small pride in this. He was not like his father. Thank God. Thank his mother. He was loud and boisterous, and a royal pain in the ass. He snorted when he laughed and he used expletives like conjunctions. He was funny and bright, and had a real heart. He couldn't have been more different than the man who had brought him into this world. Yet when Spy saw the way he smiled, he felt like he was seeing himself tenfold. He held his head in his hands and wished he could remove any impact he had on the boy. Tear away the features he'd bestowed, erase his image. Save him, if there was any hope of it.

You don't have to be like me.

The first time he'd meant to tell him, Spy knew he couldn't.

He was dying - and no amount of miracles could fix it. Spy knew, then. He knew when he saw the boy, shivering meekly in his own blood, laughing somehow. He wanted to be told he'd done good. Spy knew. Jeremy just wanted his father.

He did not want Spy.

If he knew the truth, he would die being disappointed, loathing him, loathing himself. Spy was only sparing him. Another face, another time.

He held him, like he was his baby, and let him die.

Maybe it had reminded him of something, but he'd never know because there was no time.

Until there was.

Spy didn't know what to do with himself. Every time he looked at Scout, the words threatened to spill from his mouth. Again, he felt the urge to disappoint. Yet he kept his distance, silenced his pride and acted as though nothing was wrong. The same old routine.

"What will you do now? You're out of a job."

"Me? D'uhh.. I haven't really thought about it. I thought I'd be kicking gravel 'til I kicked a bucket instead."

"Hm."

"I'll head back to my ma, first. Haven't seen her in a while..after that-"

"Is she well?"

"My ma? She's fine. Why?"

"Well, good."

"What about you? What're you gonna get up to?"

"I'll move onto the next thing, I suppose. I'm never out of a job so long as someone wants to backstab someone."

"You're not even gonna take a break, with all dis money? Do you hate yourself or somethin'?"

Spy looked down at the gravel.

"Je n'aime pas m'installer."

[lunatic-pudge]

Sniper SWF Alphabet

My baby boy!!!!! I think I might do Pyro or Demo next

A: Affection (How do they show affection? And how affectionate are they?)

Sniper is one of the most touched-starved of all nine mercs. It comes from him being an introverted-esque person and also his job. But when it comes to having an s/o, he is a very affectionate person. He loves giving and receiving affection

B: Best Friend (What would they be like a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He'd be a good best friend to have if you can break through his barriers. He doesn't let people in easily, he's very defensive about letting people in. So you would have to start slow with breaking the barriers. Sitting together and making small talk. Once the barrier is broken, he's another loyal friend. He's also a gossiper, ready to talk about and hear the latest merc drama. He's also a little shit-head and occasionally will cause trouble by letting a bee or spider lose in the building. He thinks seeing Scout freak out over a little bee is top tier comedy

C: Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Loves cuddles. You two will be constantly cuddling each other in private. He's the type of person to just lay on top of someone. He's like a coat or blanket and it's adorable. He doesn't discriminate on cuddles, if you want to be the big spoon, he'll gladly allow it. He'll cuddle you in front of people when he's drunk or completely exhausted. You're his comfort item

D: Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking & cleaning?)

Would definitely want to settle down. He'd make a great house husband. Is very particular with cooking and cleaning, he has a very specific routine for it and doesn't like breaking said routine. He is also very into trying new foods so you'll be trying a lot of interesting stuff. Please picture this man in a frilly pink apron for me, thank you :)

E: Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Very and horribly shy about it but will do it to get it done and over with so he doesn't have to dwell on it anymore. He's upfront with it and gives a reasonable explaination for it. Post breakup, he becomes very reclusive. It takes him a bit to get over the relationship but once he's over it, he'll start to revert back to his usual

F: Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Wants to get married but is scared of it. He wants to make sure the person he's with is the one. It would take a while for him to propose, I give it four years of dating at least, but after he pops that question and you say yes, he's excited. I feel like he'd let you do most of the wedding planning while aggressively supporting you, but there would be some things he'd like, such as a small wedding. But this man will make your dream wedding come true

G: Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Is surprisingly a very gentle bean. Hims is such a sweetheart. Is very good at being a listening ear if you need to vent. He'll hold you and let ypu talk about everything and anything. He enjoys spending time with you

H: Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Another gangly man with gangly man hugs, but they do be warm and comforting. Hugs are affection and he's a very affectionate man so hugs are constant. He tends to do a lot of suprise hugs from behind. He'll lay his chin on top of your head as well. He's also they type to put his elbow on your shoulder and bully you for being short

I: I Love You (How fast do they say the L-Word?)

Takes a while for him to say it. He'd probably end up saying it on your one year anniversary which makes it such an emotional moment for the both of ya. He writes lots of little notes for you and puts them everywhere and all of them contain a little I love you in it, sometimes it's just an I love you note but it's still very adorable

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Is only jealous when drunk or high (you know damn well this man is the team's weed dealer). He's very confident of himself when sober, but when he's under the influence of something he's the possessive, worried you'll leave him for someone else type of person. He'll be all over you and accusing the person of trying to take you away from him, tears may or may not be included

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Little smooches with every hi and bye. Going to the bathroom? Here's a smooch before you go. Oh, you're back? Here's a smooch for returning. He usually just gives quick innocent kisses and saves the more saucy and romantic ones when alone and for those special moments. Will kiss you anywhere and everywhere but usually tends to stick with kisses on the lips since it's quick and easy

L: Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

Is unsure about kids. They're cute and he tries to be a good role model for them, but he also doesn't understand kids. He's on the fance about having kids in the future. It depends on you if you two are having them or not. He's also the type to get absolutley fucking murdered by a hoard of kids. They'd maul him alive (it's like a reverse FNAF where the kids kill the adults and stuffed them in a suit)

M: Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Grumpy old man. He's up early making coffee and being grumpy. He's very much not a morning person and it shows. He's very snippy with the other mercs so you'll have to be there to be the neutral party and pull him away from fighting someone

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Is up late. He spends his nights cuddling you and watching a movie. With enough convincing, he'll turn his camper into a mini blanket fort. He struggles to sleep at night so it ends up contibuting to his morning grumpiness. He'll spend most of the night cuddling you until he falls asleep

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait awhile to reveal things slowly?)

Another thing that would take a long time for him to do. He doesn't want you trying to use this info against him. But if you're with him, then you obviously must have some patience, the long wait is worth it though

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Depends on his mood of the day. He's usually a very patient man but some days everything annoys him. He's very quick to apologize for his anger though. He doesn't like being mad at you, it's hurts his feelings

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every detail in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

I'd say he's pretty good with memorizing info about you. He does tend to forget and mix up some small bits, but overall, he's good with memory

R: Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite memory is when you two both took care of an injured owl. Owls are his favorite bird so when you came to him with a small box that had a baby owl in it, his heart melted. He's got quite the knowledge with taking care of animals so he knew what to do, asking you to retreive certain item so you both can help the owl. Taking care of the owl was like a test to see how well you both work together. He has pictures of the time hung up on his wall. You both ended up keeping the owl as a pet

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Very protective. He tends to stick close to you to make sure you're safe. He'd be someone who would hold you close to him with one arm, point his kukri at the person and growl at them. He gives you big scary dog privleges

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, and everyday tasks?)

He tries his best. He likes going all out for anniversaries, making sure you feel like royalty in that day. He also goes all out for your birthday, basically telling you that you're not lifting even a finger at all that day. He'll interrogate you for date ideas since he tends to not know what to do for date night. Plz help him

U: Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

The man pisses in jars. No sane person pisses in a jar and throws it at people. But aside from that, I'd say the only real bad habit/trait of his is his reclusiveness and his grumpiness. This man has an attitude on him and isn't scared to show it

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Doesn't care much about his looks. I feel like he does the bare minimum to exist. But does take better care of himself when he starts dating you. It's a very noticable difference too which ends up with the mercs questioning and attempting to bully him. He doesn't give a shit about them though. He only cares about you and his parents

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

It all depends on how long you two have been together. If it's been casual, then he's fine. But long term? Homie ends up developing separation anxiety. He doesn't like being away from you for too long. He'll usually take something of yours to kinda help him. It barely helps. He needs you.

X: Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

I feel like he'd be the type of person to be constantly high. He's obviously the weed dealer of the team, he knows what the good kush is. He's also a very feral man. Just look at him. He never got that rabies shot and it shows

Y: Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He's very picky about his partner. He doesn't like when his partner who's persistent and aggressive. He tends to let his partner take the lead but if they wanna do something he does't want to do, he will throw a fight about it if they persist

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Struggles to sleep at night. He tends to be on edge a lot so it messes with his sleep schedule. So he usually just spends the night cuddling and watching you sleep until he himself can pass the fuck out

[supernova41st]

Always Forever ✩‧₊˚

Tf2 x Teen!Reader

A/n: Ty to all the people that voted for that poll I did last week! This is sorta ‘recycled’ from this post I made just for Scout, I rewrote most of the stuff for his section. Was going to put ‘Skinny’ by Billie Eilish as the song here but I felt it was too angsty, that has nothing to do with anything I just wanted to share that.

Warnings: ‘Troubled’ Teen, Mentions of period, slight angst,

Dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

Spy

✭ Since spy is.. spy he knows nearly everything about your background, surprisingly he feels pity for you. He knew that the other mercs didn’t exactly have the best home life but here you were, barely finishing highschool and becoming a mercenary

✭ Although he does feel sorry he still seems like the same bitter spy he is to everyone else, maybe not as much but overall the team can’t sense any different emotions towards you.

✭ Missions with him are fairly awkward, you expected him to say some petty bullshit straight from the start but he mostly just seemed observant of you.

“You just gonna glare at me for the rest of this thing?”

“If it bothers you so much why don’t you crawl back to your mother”

“I can’t go back, you know how my life use to be”

✭ Oof, that kinda got to him.

✭ Like with Scout, he rarely ever calls you by your name/title. He mostly just calls you ‘girl’

✭ He tries to get use to your teenage perks, it’s been a while since he’s been a father so it took a while.

✭ once your teenage girl instinct kicked in once you realized he was snooping around your bunk room, you weren’t happy

“Who was in my room?”

“Cough what?”

“I went in my closet and my shoes were out of order because I put them from my least to most favorite and my converse were next to my combat boo-WHO THE FUCK WAS IN MY ROOM??”

✭ It’s ok, he won’t be snooping around there for a while for his sake <33

Heavy

✭ Every time he looks at you he looks like he’s about to cry. Can you blame him? You remind him of his sisters so much!!

✭ Especially after learning about your rough past.. god he wishes he can just have you move in the cabin with his sisters. It’d be so much better than what you’ve been through.

✭ Since he’s been around girls his entire life he warmed up to you real fast. Will gladly watch your back out in the battle field

“Jesus heavy!! I could’ve taken that shot Yknow? You look like Swiss cheese..”

“It’s alright, little one. Not as frail as you.”

✭ if you forget to ask for pads when goods get shipped to the base don’t worry, he always orders some in case you forget

“(Y/N), Miss Pauling told me that you forgot about Red riding hood visiting.”

“Gasp Oh god.. Thanks so much, Heavy.”

“No problem”

✭ Easily he’s the one you like the most. Not only is he chill but he’s always there for you 🫧

Sniper

✭ Divorced dad core

✭ Honestly he doesn’t really mind how young you are, as long as you can do your job he’s pretty okay with you

✭ Although (as said before) he does give divorced dad vibes. Helping mow the lawn, let’s you have a sip of his beer, spending weekends in his camper van, etc.

✭ He enjoys going on camping trips with you and teaches you how to use his rifle. Once you got injured near your eye because of the harsh recoil, he felt real sorry

“You good mate? Those frozen peas doin’ any good for ya??”

“Sniper I’m fine!! It’s just a bruise”

“Yeah, a big one! Lil’ bugger is already turnin’ yellow.. don’t tell Heavy I did this to ya”

✭ He always has to swat your feet off the dashboard of his car as if it’s not already dirty

✭ will NOT let you play music in there, he says it’s “too sappy for his taste”

✭ (Extra)

✭ Soldier doesn’t like you going out, divorced mom core.

“AH! LOOK WHOS FINALLY HOME FROM SNIPERS, ONLY 2 SECONDS LATE.”

“What?”

Scout

✭ Don’t get him started.

✭ This boy will defend you with his LIFE. (not on the battlefield)

✭ Anyone giving you a hard time? Scouts here!!

“Hey, (Y/N), perhaps before jumping straight into the enemy team you might want to wait for yours to come over??”

“Wow another mission where you blame everyone but your big ass 😐”

“That’s a little out of pocket but I mean.. thanks?”

✭ Miss Pauling and him are your parents now btw. They take you EVERYWHERE with them

“Guys I really don’t have to go, plus I don’t have any extra money to pay for myself anyways”

“We’ll just pay it for ya toots!! You can order all the food you want”

“Yeahh, under 30$ tho.”

✭ Despite how much fun he has with you, he does have a deep connection with you as well. He knows how it feels to be seen as ‘useless’, so he tries his best to make sure you have the best time you can at a place like this.

“You alright, kid? It was gettin’ pretty ugly out there, especially with all that blood splatting all over ya”

“I’m good, I just hope I don’t get any infection since I got some blood on my eye..”

“Ew.. I mean-cool!! That’s pretty sick if you ask me”

✭ Does not ask you about your past, let alone bring it up. Scout may be stupid, but he’s smart enough to know that he’ll probably say something ignorant if the life you gave up ever gets brought up.

[memekais]

epic the musical sentence starters. the circe saga. feel free to change pronouns as needed!

puppeteer

i have something that i must confess, something that i must get off my chest. until it is said, i cannot rest.

there's only so much left we can endure.

whatever you need to say can wait some more - of that, i'm sure.

[name], back so soon? where's the rest of your crew?

we came across a palace. inside we heard a voice.

nothing could prepare us for the power that awaited inside...

sir, since we left home we've faced a variety of foes from a wide range of places - gods, monsters, you know the roster, hostile creatures that we could resist.

this was a hell of a twist, cause we are weak to a power like this.

welcome to the best part of your lives.

go ahead and rest wherever you like.

i got you, don't worry [name]'s got you now.

i bet you're tired from the years spent on your feet.

think of your past and your mistakes.. they'll be the last mistakes you'll make.

i got all the power, yeah, i got all the power.

no, i'm not a player, i'm a puppeteer.

they transformed... and it wasn't quick.

this is the price we pay to live.

the world does not tend to forgive.

look at all we've lost and all we've learned, every single cost is so much more than what we've earned.

think about the men we have left before there are none.

let's just cut our losses, you and i, and let's run.

i can hardly sleep now knowing everything we've done.

there's no length i wouldn't go if it was you i had to save. i can only hope you'd do the same.

what if she can't be killed? will you choose to leave?

no one will find their way between my nymphs and i, their loving queen.

it's a game of wits but you don't have to play.

wouldn't you like

i must say what a brilliant speech you gave.

you wanna beat her? you'll need the blessing of a certain god.

[silly little laugh]

wouldn't you like a taste of the power? wouldn't you like to use more than words?

deep in the night the fight lasts for hours.

you can be hurt or you can beat her.

wouldn't you like to have some of thе magic? wouldn't you like your outcome prefеrred?

deep in the night the fight can be tragic.

i'll help you conquer her.

she can turn you into an animal that'll end up on her plate. she can all but make you fall in love like you're on your hundredth date!

she can conjure up a monster that'll grind you to the bones.

she has all the ways to haunt ya when you take her on alone.

here in the root of this flower, there lies such a power to take her on.

don’t thank me friend, you very well may die. haha, good luck!

done for

i sent out some scouts to take a look around through here and they wound up at your door.

through the years we seldom get a warm welcome, so i must ask just to be sure... did you do something to them?

all i did was reveal their true forms.

i don't know who you are nor why you're here but let me make this one thing clear: i've got people to protect, nymphs i can't nеglect so i'm not taking chances, dear.

if you makе one wrong move, then you're done for.

anything i don't approve, then you're done for.

i could put a spell on you and you're done for.

boy, you better run or soon you will done for.

i don't mean to tip your scale but you will fail at placing any spells on me.

you better cower now and flee.

you must be a liar. mortals can't acquire moly without dire consequence.

then i must be a god like you cause i got this root from the ground with my bare hands.

you and i are now evenly matched. our fates are intertwined, they're attached.

i've got people to protect, friends i can't neglect so now there is no turning back.

you've made your one wrong move, now you're done for.

i will be the one to prove that you're done for.

not even a spell saves you, cause you're done for.

the last time we let strangers live, we faced a heavy loss.

you've given me no reason to bestow you with my trust.

everyone's true colours are revealed in acts of lust.

there are other ways

there are other ways of persuasion, there are other modes of control...

there are other means of deceit, there are other roads to the soul...

there are other actions of passion you have so much left to learn.

want to save your men from the fire? show me that you're willing to burn.

who's to say with the mistakes i've made that they will be the last mistakes i ever make?

there is so much power but there's puppet here.

this is the price we pay to love.

i'm just a man, forgive me.

back at home, my wife awaits for me.

she is my everything, my [name]... and she is all my power.

the god of tides is out to end my life.

so i beg you, [name], grant us mercy.

let us puppets leave.

there might be a way to evade him, there might be a way to get home though this other way’s very dangerous.

it might be your one final hope.

i can’t get you home, but I’ll get you to the underworld instead.

maybe showing one act of kindness leads to kinder souls down the road.

i remember actions of passion... i have been in love once before.

maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer no more.

maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer more.

[ravennaortiz]

Summary: Coco prepares for the birth of his and OC Daniela's child. All while enduring hazing from her brothers and trying to cope with his own anxiety about being a good father.

As always my stories are 18+.

Tag List: @keyweegirlie @hatersaremymotivators @meera10 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @kikijackson-blog

"I still can't believe you got my baby sister pregnant" sighed Angel as he dropped onto the couch next to Coco dramatically making him roll his eyes but not looking up from the book in his hands.

"Kind of a shit move. She had her whole life ahead of her" joked EZ as he clapped Coco on his shoulders from behind the couch.

"My bad. Figured after being married for two years this would be fine. Though I am starting to wish I had rethought the relationship after realizing you two idiots were her brothers" snarked Cocoas he shook EZ's hands off him and stood from the couch.

"If I didn't know better I would think he was the one pregnant and hormonal" stated Angel as they watched Coco stalk off and upstairs. EZ simply nodded as he took Coco's vacated seat.

***

Dani was upstairs finishing her makeup when she saw Coco appear in the doorway a frown on his face. "You okay love?"

Coco flopped onto the bed and sighed trying to decide if it was worth stressing her out to tell her his rising anxiety about the birth of their daughter. "I'm good mami" he finally called as he heard her move into the bedroom. "You look stunning" he added as he propped himself up on his elbows taking her in. Lucky, he thought to himself. He got lucky that night all those years ago that she had turned down that alleyway.

Dani put her hands on her hips as she stared him down. "Don't deflect Coco. I know something is bothering you so spill it"

Coco took a deep breath as he met her eyes. There was no use in trying to deny it any longer. "What if I am a bad dad? What do I have to offer? I messed Letty up and I can't stomach the idea of doing that with our little one. I know its too late but I don't think I can do this Dani" explained Coco as he buried his face in his hands as tears spilled down his cheeks.

"Coco, my love" murmured Dani as she moved to the bed and tried to pull him as close as possible with her baby bump. "You are a great man and a great father. I promise you that. Letty has grown into a lovely young lady and you did what you thought was best for her. I know in my heart you will do the same for our little girl. I am honored to get to raise her with such a gentle, kind, hardworking man" soothed Dani as she rubbed his shoulders.

Coco nodded as he listened to Dani speak. He knew she would never lie to him. "Thank you. Sorry for this" mumbled Coco as he sat up and kissed her cheek.

"No apologies needed love. I got you like you got me" replied Dani softly as she caressed his face. A knock at the bedroom door had them both turning.

"Guests are arriving. E is getting everyone settled" stated Angel as he looked at the floor awkwardly.

"You go on mi amor. I'll be down in a couple minutes" stated Coco as he stood up offering his hand out to Dani to help her off the bed. Dani nodded and made her way out of the room, giving Angels arm a squeeze as she passed by.

Once Dani was down the stairs Angel turned to his friend. "Hey man, I hope you know its all just jokes. EZ and I couldn't ask for a better guy for Dani to be with."

Coco nodded as he took a deep breath. "I know man. Just got a lot on my mind. Don't want to fuck this up"

"You won't. You love my sister to much to do that. Besides you got me and EZ to help ya" replied Angel with a grin.

"Thank god I got Boy Scout and Pretty Boy to help me. Whatever would I do without?" replied Coco sarcastically as he chuckled as he stood up making his way out of the room with Angel.

The End

Want to see how Dani and Coco started? Click here

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[presidentbungus]

Demo starts scritching at the bottom of Scout’s skull, then slowly starts moving up, humming something he doesn’t recognize under his breath. Scout’s not really sure what he’s doing, but it’s nice. And it’s kinda hard to care when all he can think about is being pressed against Demo and it’s like sitting against a space heater he’s so fucking warm, their legs tangled together in front of them, and Scout just wishes he could see his face.

He can imagine it. Demo always makes the same face when he’s concentrating and he’s always concentrating on something (and right now he’s focused on Scout, just him, and fuck, man). He’s probably squinting at nothing in particular, and he’d be cross-eyed if he had two eyes, lips all stupidly puffed out like he’s clenching his teeth together. Maybe he’s sticking his tongue out just a little, like he does when he’s really in the zone.

… Probably thinking, like, wow, Scout’s so great, his hair’s so soft and nice, boy I’m lucky, I’m never gonna dump him unless he dumps me, in which case I would accept that as a reasonable decision and still be best friends with him afterwards because he’s just that great. Or something along those lines. He has to remind himself to unscrunch his eyes and unflare his nose and do something mostly regular with his mouth, and he spends a few seconds being really glad Demo can’t see his face right now because he probably looks really stupid.

And the whole time those smart, quick fingers keep brushing across his scalp, combing through his hair. His other arm’s got Scout all wrapped up, resting heavy enough against his chest his lungs pinch just a little when he breathes in too deep and don’t get him wrong, no complaints here. Demo keeps humming, probably something about pirates or krakens or taxes. Scout can’t think of anything to say and for the first time in his life nothing’s coming out of his mouth anyway. He’s sweating through the bandages on his hands though. And his heart’s hammering so hard he can feel it in the tips of his fingers, and he’s sure Demo’s able to feel it through his spine, and oh god is that embarrassing? Is he being fucking weird? Did he remember to put on deodorant this morning because oh god he’s so fucking sweaty, and maybe he should say something just to clarify, maybe something like I’m sorry if I smell bad and I’m sweaty, you’re really great and all, I like your arms a lot and your music’s stupid but you’re good at singing it, something like that really quick, oh my god oh my god…

And out of nowhere, right before Scout opens his big stupid mouth and gets himself broken up with, Demo pops his lips and says: “Scout, if you love me, ya gotta wash yer hair.”

“What—c’mon.” Scout’s worried that means the little head massage thing is over, but he still keeps going, thank god, and you know what, whatever.

“No, really.” Demo thinks on it. “Your scalp feels like a nice greasy patch of temperate swamp.”

He finally awkwardly cranes his neck back (trying to make sure Demo doesn’t move his arm and hey, he doesn’t) and sure enough, he’s making that stupid fucking face, tongue out and everything even though he just spoke, and whatever long line of nothing Scout had in his mouth just dissolves. Instead he manages to muster a faint: “Hey.”

“Just a touch of shampoo, Scoutie, I’m tellin’ ye. Could be nice.”

He scoffs. “I use shampoo.”

“You use a three-‘n-one. I’ve seen it.”

“And it works fine, asshole.”

“It could work better.” Before Scout can respond to this, that arm squeezes all the air out of him—probably on purpose—and Demo’s other arm presses on top of it, and his head nudges into the crook of Scout’s neck and says “Please, Scoutie, for me, just for me?”

… Aw man. “Fine, whatever,” he wheezes, and Demo lets go of him so he can throw his arms in the air. “But I don’t know any of that shit.”

“I promise I can work that out,” he hums, already back to scratching down Scout’s scalp. “Thank you, thank you,” suddenly attacking him with kisses down his neck and the side of his face, making the loudest friggin’ smacking sounds he can probably muster.

“Geez—geez, okay, I get it,” and some horrible embarrassing sound that’s probably supposed to be a laugh frees itself from his throat, and Scout barely tries to push him off. It doesn’t work, and he doesn’t stop. Thank god.

[verynastyspoon]

Scout x Fem!Reader pt.4

Summary: Creepy guy vs. Scout

Word count: 420 (short and sweet)

Warnings: mention of s/a

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You and Scout have been going out for about a month and today hes came to pick you up from work. You’re at Mr.Alberts house aka creepy guy you always dred to see. He is about 60 years old, slightly overweight, with graying hair. He puts his hand on the small of your back as he talks

“Hey sweet pea, you done.”

“Um, yes almost.”

“How about you stay for a while.”

Scout pulls into the driveway and sees this scene through the window. He grips the steering wheel angrily and gets out the car, slamming the car door shut. He runs up to the door and knocks on it, hard.

You gasp in surprise and relief at the sudden noise. You open the door to see your angry boyfriend. He grabs you by the hip and looks at the old man.

“What are you doing touching my girl!”

“Easy little boy, she cleans for me, she doesn’t mind a little touching.”

You turn around leaning into Scout touch, signaling your disapproval in his words.

“Ya right pal. If I see you touching my girl again you’re dead, you old bag.”

Mr.Albert glares with a furious look in his eyes. He takes a big step forward getting into Scout face. “You know I pay her bills right. I’m her highest paying customer. One more word and i’ll put her on the streets.”

Scout punches the man in the nose. “Shut the fuck up! Don’t disrespect my girl like that! I can more than provide for her! And if you say anything about this we are sueing you for sexual harassment you freak!” Scout takes your hand and storms outside.

“You’re fired, you ugly cunt!” The old man slams the door shut.

“Fuck you!” You yell. You and Scout get in the car and drive away. You take Scout’s hand and smile. “Thanks.”

“No problem toots.”

“But what do I do now? He’s right, he pays my bills. What am I gonna do now?”

“I can pay your bills.”

“I could never ask you to do that.”

“Nah doll I insist. Its my fault you can’t afford it anymore anyway.”

You think for a moment, trying to find another way you can get by without help. You sigh “Okay, ill pay the majority and you pay for the part I can’t afford.”

He smiles “Okay.”

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