Ace The Bat-Hound, And His Faithful Sidekick, Titus The Bird-Hound!!

Lady/Nico doodles! (I finished DMC 5 last week, I loved it)

Doodle with mission 03 spoilers here<3 (No idea how to tag these)

i haven’t had much time to draw lately >:T

#UnwhitewashTBB !!

Here's my take on the Bad Batch bois, inspired by @nibeul 's redesigns!!

Descriptions stolen from my IG:

Decided to give Hunter a tattoo sleeve, to fit the rest of his aesthetic, as well as Rambo scars instead of copying his face! Also more of a fit body type than super muscular??

Myself and some others headcanon Crosshair as being autistic, and when I noticed him constantly chewing on that toothpick, thought some chewelry would be a great addition do my redesign of him (and some nibble scars on his arms)!! He's also has a severe form of albinism, resulting in the pale hair, skin, and freckles.

Sadder notes for him though, as I also HC him as having a lot of health difficulties, leading to the heart surgery scar and IV scars. Even sadder, albinism often means poor eyesight, so his eyes have been replaced with "perfect" bionic ones. It was after their installation that he showed promise as a sniper, and allowed into the field.

THEN WRECKER. MY BOY. Love him?? Also bLESS @/paladinpenn (IG) for suggesting I check out Rongo Keene for inspiration!!? I had a blast drawing from his physique to draw an accurate super-strong super-soldier!! Also, inspired by @nibeul 's take on Wrecker's scars needing some more realism, I've given him extended scars by a napalm-like substance!! It ruined his outer ear, meaning he needs a hearing aid. It also gave him a blind, and now lazy, eye.

Also stretch marks because he's grown a lot in both forms of size, and is very strong. So!!! He earned em!! 💖

Tech!! My dear!! He's got his glasses, due to poor eyesight being a side effect of his albinism, also decided to give him freckles and red hair due to him not having SEVERE albinism (i.e. no melanin at all). Also have him the skinny-fit body type to fit with him being both nerd and soldier!!

She's Out To Please, She Pouts Her Best (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: Soldier Boy’s been pulled from the European Theater to sell war bonds to the American people, the goodwill tour dotted by big cities and small towns alike. In the meantime, he gets familiar with the variety of women in dazzling costumes that accompany his speeches with carefully choreographed dances. You’re, without a doubt, his favorite of them all.

Note: Female (blink and you’ll miss it implied plus size) reader, but no other descriptors are used. This fic is so short because it’s pretty much PWP. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Dressing room sex, mirrors, breeding kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, overstimulation, implied baby trapping. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Chattering from the packed high school auditorium somehow seeped through the walls. The rural town that was the latest stop in Soldier Boy’s war bond drive had shown up en masse out of patriotism or sheer curiosity. Usually both. Electricity was always in the air before the show in small towns. Some of them didn’t even have movie theaters. 

You and the other dancers on the tour had set up camp in one of the bigger classrooms, using it to get ready in since it was near one of the bathrooms. Dresses, sequins, and makeup scattered about the room, making the place of learning look like a department store had exploded inside. You’d been helping another girl with the curlers in her hair until a masculine voice called out your name from the doorway.

“Soldier Boy wants to see you in his dressing room.”

You nodded, giving an apologetic look to your colleague, who waved you off. It wasn’t unusual for Soldier Boy to call on one of you to help him “warm up” before the shows. Lately, however, he’d almost exclusively been asking for you, to the detriment of your jaw. 

Grabbing a nearby tube of red lipstick, you hastily applied it in the illuminated mirror in front of you. The lipstick residue soon adorned a tissue that you discarded, and you used your fingertips to gently massage the muscles in your face in preparation for taking him again. You hoped you’d at least get to come this time.

A flyer had gotten you to this point, stark white with patriotic motifs, pinned to a board in the nightclub you had been working in prior to getting the gig. Uncle Sam declared, “Ladies, you can serve your country too!” You figured why not, there was a war on, and if you could do something to help, you might as well. 

Your qualifications led you to your local USO office, where you were handed a star-spangled outfit and joined a gaggle of other girls to be the supporting act on Soldier Boy’s war bonds tour across the country. At times, you felt silly, kicking and shimmying to audiences who were clearly only putting up with the opener just to catch a glimpse at the world’s first superhero. A man larger than life in every sense of the word, as you and your fellow dancers on the tour would learn.

Wandering the hallway, you checked each door for an indication of which commandeered classroom was his. Not one for subtlety, his dressing rooms always had ‘SOLDIER BOY’ printed in large letters, declaring his presence. You found the sign toward the end of the hall, giving a smile to the usual group of people who congregated around him, assistants and handlers to keep him on schedule.

You knocked on the door, announcing your arrival. 

“You wanted to see me, sir?” you asked when he opened the door. 

He smiled, putting his hand on your lower back as he ushered you inside. “Sure did, sweetheart.”

His dressing room always betrayed his vices—alcohol, drugs, porno mags. It didn’t faze you anymore, not like the first time he asked for you, a stuttering mess in his presence. Back then, you had to take a shot with him to settle your nerves enough to blow him without feeling too self-conscious. Now, it was routine. You moved to get on your knees, but he stopped you, to your confusion. 

Instead, he disarmed you with a passionate kiss that nearly knocked you over. You steadied yourself on his strong arms that had made their home near your hips. He squeezed them, pulling you closer so your body was flush against his as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. 

You let him take the lead, he always did—strong, masculine, hard-working. Wasn’t America lucky its hero was easy on the eyes too? Except he had a temper, a mean streak that could go for miles. Not that you’d ever been on the receiving end of it. No, for all his faults, you seemed to get the best of Soldier Boy.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he whispered against your lips.

“You have?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. You’re—“ he paused, searching for the word he wanted to use, “special to me.”

You weren’t sure why he was laying it on so thick. It wasn’t your first rodeo with him. “Special?”

“‘Course you are. You wouldn't be here if you weren’t,” he said. “I wanna try something different today, alright, doll?”

“Alright,” you agreed softly.

He smiled. “That’s my girl.”

Your body came alive at his praise, and you pressed your lips to his for another kiss. He guided your body backward until you bumped into the vanity. Parting his lips from yours, he turned you around, bending you over it so you were face to face with yourself in the mirror. 

You looked at him from the reflection, brows furrowed as you wondered what he was doing. 

He leaned down, voice husky in your ear as he growled, “I want you to see how pretty you look when you come.”

Your eyes widened, and you grabbed either side of the vanity in preparation, to his amusement. He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck as he pushed up your shimmery skirt, exposing your red, satin panties, specially made to be on display. Soon, your panties were around your heeled feet, one of his hands reaching to play with your clit while the other squeezed one of your breasts through your top.

“We look good together, don’t you think, sweetheart?” he asked, intense gaze studying your reactions.

“Y-Yes,” you moaned, trying to keep your eyes open. 

He always wanted you to look at him. From your knees when you were sucking him off, when he’d be standing on the side of the stage during your act, in his hotel rooms when he couldn’t find local girls to fuck around with. This instance was different, though, able to really see him, and yourself. You didn’t find your glassy gaze or parted lips particularly flattering, but he couldn’t seem to get enough.

His fingers had already brought you close to climax, and you whined when he pulled them away from you for a moment to free his hard cock from his pants. You shuddered, feeling it on your skin before he guided it in your pussy. Your hands curled around the vanity you were bracing yourself on. You weren’t sure if you’d get used to how his cock seemed to split you apart every time.

One of his arms wrapped just below your chest to hold you up, as you struggled to support yourself when he started pounding into you. Your pussy was already wet and pliant for him, and you'd be embarrassed by the obscene squelching sounds if you weren't so focused on getting off when he had brought you so close to the edge already.

You were your own voyeur, your brain feeling like it was going to melt, watching yourself getting fucked by him. His superhuman strength always caught you off guard, from the first time he shocked you by lifting you above his head on stage for a roaring crowd to the way he could make your body feel—and look—like you were little more than a ragdoll. 

“Gonna put a baby in you,” he grunted as he thrust into you, items falling from the vanity and onto the floor at the force he used to fuck you. “Want you up on that stage with my cum leaking out every time you kick up those legs—fuck—you’re mine.”

Your pussy clenched around him at the vulgar image he conjured up. “Yours daddy.”

His voice was strained, words slurring together. He was close. “‘S right, baby. Keep fuckin’ you ‘till you make me one. You like takin’ daddy’s dick, don’t you?”

You had to force the short affirmation out of your mouth, pleasure’s chokehold creeping up on you. That wasn’t enough for him or his ego.

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“I love taking—oh fuck—taking your dick, daddy.”

He came, hard and sloppy as your pussy milked his cock. You cried out, feeling so full it almost started to hurt. Something in you finally snapped, releasing the pain and pressure as you rode out your orgasm on his softening cock. Your arms gave out from under you so that it was just his strength holding you up. You weren’t sure how you’d be able to go back to having sex with men who weren’t well-endowed superheroes. Go back to faking it, you supposed.

Your throat was sore. You hadn’t paid attention to how loud you were being. Everyone outside the room must’ve known what was happening if they didn’t have an idea when you first showed up looking for him. 

Soldier Boy pulled himself out of you, and you could hear fabric rustling and the sound of his zipper again. You didn’t bother trying to stand up, still needing time to catch your breath. 

He used his fingers to swipe up some of his cum that had begun dripping out of you, causing you to gasp at the slight sensation of them brushing against your pussy. You whimpered when he pushed his index and middle fingers inside you, already aching from the orgasm he’d just pulled from you. 

“I—I can’t—“

‘I can’t get pregnant and ruin my career,’ you wanted to say, but all that came from your lips was a desperate, animalistic moan.

“I got you, baby,” Soldier Boy whispered, voice low and husky in your ear. “Give me one more so it sticks.”

You choked on air as his thumb brushed your clit, rubbing circles in the sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers pushed deeper, and your hips bucked at the overstimulation, your spent pussy reactively pulsing around his cum-slicked fingers that curled inside you.

The woman staring back at you in the mirror was a mess with her mascara stained cheeks and smeared lipstick. You were utterly unrecognizable as you came again, harder on his fingers this time, crying out as you gripped the edge of the vanity, threatening to break one of your manicured nails. 

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing kisses to your cheek, as you came down from your second orgasm, pulling his hand from between your legs. “You alright?”

“I think so,” you breathed. “Jesus Christ.”

Your legs felt like jelly beneath you, and you wondered how the hell you were going to be able to dance in less than half an hour. You’d have to reapply all of your makeup too.

He turned you around, looking at you with a brief fondness before kissing your lips, soft and quick. 

“I need to fix my face,” you breathed.

He smiled. “Why? You look great.” 

You laughed softly as he gave you space. You pulled up your panties from around your ankles, knowing his cum would stain them by the time you made it back to the dancers’ makeshift dressing room. Taking some of the tissues from the box on top of the vanity, you began wiping your ruined makeup from your face. He stared at you in silence from the spot he’d taken on the loveseat that’d been brought in for him.

“I think I’d be a good father. Better than my old man,” he said finally.

You paused, looking at him from the mirror, giving him a sardonic smile. “I don’t see you as the settling down type.”

“Maybe I just need a woman worth coming home to.”

“Maybe,” you echoed.

“C’mere.”

You obliged, joining him on the loveseat. He wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. You let yourself bask in the intimacy.

“Things aren’t always gonna be like this,” he said. “Once the war’s over, what’re you gonna do? Go back to dancing in nightclubs?”

“Why not?”

His jaw clenched, cheek twitching as he pulled his gaze from you. “I don’t want you doing this for anyone but me.”

This could have been any number of things, dancing, fucking, being at his beck and call. Knowing him, he meant all of it.

“Ben,” you said, grabbing his attention, “then you have to tell me what you do want.”

“I want you. I want the white picket fence, kids running around the yard with the dog,” he said, the intensity in his voice wrapping tendrils around your mind, pulling you into the world he was describing. “I want dinner to burn ‘cause I was busy putting another baby in you when I got home.”

“Oh,” you whispered.

A voice through the door startled you. “Soldier Boy, the mayor’s here to see you!” 

“Think about it,” Soldier Boy said, getting up from the loveseat to grab his helmet and shield. 

The door shut behind him, leaving you to agonize over the future he presented to you. Part of you wondered if you’d really have a choice.

Just a "what if he lived", where we could have seen him on scientist mode(?)

Bonus scene:

(yes, I gave him glasses and I don't regret)

Working at Devil May Cry is like—

Stickers! Woof. I think I set everything up correctly but please feel free to DM if there are any issues! 

https://www.redbubble.com/people/LeeLeeBeeSW/shop?asc=u&ref=account-nav-dropdown

A Work of Art [Spencer Reid x fem! Reader]

Find my masterlist here. Requests are Open.

Taglist is open, you can find the form here.

Requested: Yes l No

A/N: this is just an unnecessary smutty follow up to Tattooed Heart.

CW: tattooes, tattooed reader, oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, swearing, confident baby! Spencer.

Plot: Now Spencer knows you are interested in him, he has to get a glimpse of every single one of those tattoos. Especially the ones you keep hidden from the rest of the world.

Part One | Part Three

WC: 1.3K

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Spencer was usually shy when it came to women but seeing those tattoos on the backs of your thighs had driven him wild.

So he did as you said and asked you out to dinner, only one thing on his mind the whole night.

He walked you home and when you stopped outside of your building he knew it was now or never.

He placed his slightly shaking hands on your hips and came close to your ear before whispering “I want half of your heart on either side of my face.”

That was all it took. You knew exactly what he meant.

You took hold of his hand and led him upstairs.

No sooner the door of your apartment closed behind you, his lips were on yours, his hips pushing you back against the door.

You’d never seen this side of Spencer before. He was always so awkward and timid but right now he was hungry and desperate and you loved it.

Without breaking the kiss you led him to the bedroom and you laid down while he climbed on top of you.

“I want to see them all.” He ran his fingers over the ink on the tops of your thighs. “And I mean all.”

“Guess you’ll have to find them.” You smirked at him and it made him hiss.

He fumbled with the hem of your dress, feeling more nervous than he wanted you to know. You noticed his shaky hands though.

You arched your back so he could slowly pull the fabric up your body and over your head, revealing you were only wearing panties underneath.

Spencer stared down at you in complete awe.

On top of what he’d been able to see with your dress on, he now noticed the tattoo between your breasts trailed underneath them, cupping them a way a bra would, he thought. You also had a large rib piece on your left side.

He looked back up to meet your eyes that were sparkling in mischief.

“You’ve missed one.” You smirked again.

Spencer swallowed, chewing his lip as he looked down at the only item of clothing you still wore.

He looked back at you and you gave him an encouraging look.

He took a few deep breaths before hooking his fingers in the sides of your panties and slowly peeling them from your body.

Hidden from sight in your pubic region, until now was the final tattoo. A bright red set of lipstick slicked lips.

“Good god.” He moaned as he spoke. “What are you doing to me?”

You reached up and pulled him close by his tie so you could kiss him. You carefully slid his glasses off his face and placed them on the bedside table.

“I think it’s only fair, now that you’ve seen all of me, that I get to see all of you too Reid.”

He nodded, his nerves returning now it was time for him to undress.

He pushed himself up from the bed and stood next to it, toying with his tie.

You watched as he undressed slowly. First his tie, then his shirt, then his slacks until he was left in his boxers, hard and straining at the fabric.

You eyed him hungrily, begging him with your eyes to remove that final article of clothing.

He took a deep breath and pulled them down, tossing them in a pile with the rest of his clothes.

“Get over here.” you smiled at him, inviting him back onto the bed.

He climbed back on top of you, looking you up and down.

“You are an absolute masterpiece.” he ran his fingers over the ink on your arms. “I want to touch them all, kiss them all.”

“Please,” you nodded, giving him complete access and control.

He lifted your left hand and started kissing your wrist where the tattoos started and worked his way up to your shoulder while caressing your skin with his fingers.

He moved his lips to your right shoulder and worked down your arm.

His kisses and his touches were so tender it sent goosebumps flaring on your skin. Your whole body was tingling. When he moved his focus to your chest, you couldn’t help but moan.

His lips kiss the tattoo between your breasts while his fingers toyed with your nipples. You started writhing on the bed beneath him, your toes curling. His lips got lower, ensuring to kiss along the ink under each of your breasts, all the while he caressed you with his hands.

“Jesus Spence,” you mumbled, chewing on your lip. “That feels wonderful.”

“I’m just getting started.” he spoke into your skin.

Goosebumps flared on your skin again when he directed his lips and hands to your rib tattoo, and your fingers found their way into his thick hair.

He repeated his movements on your legs, lifting each one so he could kiss each half a heart on the backs of your thighs.

Once he was done on your legs he looked back at the tattoo on your pubic region. He had been looking forward to that one the most.

He made eye contact with you, his eyes dark and blown out wide as he bowed his head towards your final tattoo.

You held your breath, your hands dropping to your sides and screwing up the sheets.

When his lips connected with your tattooed lips you let out a ragged breath.

He was so close to your core you felt dizzy. You wanted nothing more than for him to be between your legs.

He spent more time on this tattoo than the others, really working his lips on the skin to really build up the heat between your legs.

“Spence,” you panted a little. “For the love of god, please.”

He smiled to himself, amazed he had this effect on you. He trailed his hands down your thighs, parting your legs a little, and his lips started getting lower until he found your clit and lapped his tongue over it.

“Fuck!” You moaned loudly, your legs spasming at the sensation.

He continued to lick, suck and kiss between your legs, lapping up every little bit of you.

You were writhing on the bed, your toes curling at the feeling of his glorious mouth.

He worked you right to the edge before he stopped, pulling back at making you whine.

He chuckled, moving back up the bed and placing your thighs on his shoulders.

“I told you I wanted half of your heart on either side of my face.” He smiled darkly, pressing the head of his dick at your entrance.

“Please god just fuck me Spencer, I beg of you.” you gripped his biceps. Your words made him shudder.

He couldn’t wait any longer to have you and he thrust into you with force, making you both moan viscerally.

He gripped your thighs tightly in his hands as he pounded in and out of you, eliciting the most wonderful noises from your lips.

You ran your nails over his chest, leaving light marks behind in your wake. Spencer placed kisses on your inner thighs, diving deeper inside of you and making you scream when he found your g-spot.

“Oh fuck Spence, that’s it right there.” tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as he focused his thrusts in the same position over and over bringing you to your orgasm quicker than you’d ever reached it before.

You clenched around him, digging your nails into the flesh of his chest as you came, mumbling his name.

He felt extremely proud of himself and after a few more forceful thrusts he was coming undone too, spilling himself inside of you, profanities falling from his open mouth.

He didn’t move for a few minutes after he came, trying to catch his breath before he pulled out and fell to the bed next to you. He rolled on his side and leant on his elbow so he could look at you properly.

He let his fingers trail over the ink between your breasts making you sign happily.

“You’re a goddamn work of art.” he spoke softly, placing a kiss on your temple.

You smiled sleepily, looking up at him.

“You’re not so bad yourself Spence.”

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