#50s fem america

[sugarpopss]

Late Call

We're back Lee girlies I'm back on my corrupt sheriff shit. This so SO inspired by the lore for Lee and his post divorce with Flo girlypop written in the chat by yours truly and @bucknastysbabe and also I've had this google doc just...open in my tabs for ages. Here's the post for the dead motel I took the Plaza Lodge from.

fem!reader

Lee rarely responded to late night calls himself. One of the perks of being the sheriff-he got to go home at 7:30 and leave all of the idiots underneath him to deal with noise complaints and bar fights. Even if all Lee did with his free evenings was park his ass on the sofa and fill up with TV dinners and sodapop and packaged cookies, watch ‘I’ve Got a Secret’ and tug on his cock-it was still better than responding to hillbillies domestic disputes. 

It wasn’t uncommon to get calls from the apartment block his sister Sandy lived in, either. About ten years ago-when Lee had been a fresh-faced deputy with a wife and a plan and pants that fit-the building had been a motor lodge. Not a particularly nice one, but a functioning motor lodge nonetheless. The place hadn’t really started going downhill until they’d converted it into apartments. What did anyone expect? The rent was cheap, the building itself ill-maintained, and several of the residents seemed determined to make their units a welcoming home for all manner of pests. 

Units like Sandys. Christ, it made Lees eye twitch just thinking about the mess of her place. However much of the mess was his sisters and how much of it was the fault of her stinking pig of a husband was still up in the air. All of that to say-Lee wasn’t usually perturbed by calls from the apartment block. They were rarely a big deal. 

Despite knowing all of that-save the bits about Lee stuffing his face and jerking it to Bess Myerson-Willis still felt the need to call Lee up at nearly 11 o’ clock at night. Lee had been tempted to just not pick up the phone, but, well…he was the sheriff. He had certain responsibilities. Even if just hearing a voice from the station while he was at home made him want to groan. 

“I’m, uh, I’m sorry to bother you so late, Lee-” 

Really, everyone was meant to be calling him ‘Sheriff Bodecker’, but Lee wasn’t going to fight that battle at 11 at night. 

“You got a reason for buggin’ me like this? I don’t wanna spend my night chattin’ with you.” Maybe Lee was a little grumpy about being shaken out of his post-orgasm food coma. Maybe Lee was a little grumpy most of the time. 

“It’s just that a call came in from the Plaza Lodge, and I know that your sister lives down there , so I thought-” 

Lee didn’t even let the dispatcher finish. He was already annoyed that he’d had to haul himself up to answer the phone, and the movement had made the fullness of his stomach shift from ‘pleasantly full’ to ‘tight and queasy.. “I don’t need to go down there every time someone hears a goddamn bump. It’s a shithole. People call the police. Handle it.” 

“I know that, Lee, it’s just…” Willis was trying hard to justify the call. Pissing Lee off usually meant spending a shift out patrolling the county line, looking at skinny cattle and rusted out cars. “Well, the caller reported gunshots, and they said a woman was gettin’ all worked up and hysterical, so I thought maybe you’d want to know about it.” 

Alright, that did make a little knot of anxiety form in Lees chest. As tangled up and messy as his relationship with Sandy was, she was still his baby sister. If something was awfully wrong, he oughta be there. A sick, shameful part him-though not really that shameful-hoped that fucker Carl had finally put his hands on her; slapped her around or pushed her down the outdoor stairs. Something that wouldn’t hurt Sandy too badly, but would still let Lee finally get the son-of-a-bitch in handcuffs. Or even better-gunshots, agitated woman-Sandy had just snapped and shot Carl. Now that would be something worth getting up to see. 

With that in mind, Lee hung up on Willis while he was still talking and set to getting dressed and moving, and if he grabbed two Pepsis to drink on the way, that was his business. It was late, he needed the sugar to perk him up. 

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When Lee pulled up to what used to be the Plaza Motor Lodge, he was greeted with both disappointment and relief. There was only one cruiser in the parking lot, and the whole place was pretty quiet; just a couple of people standing out on their porches, smoking or sipping from chipped mugs, trying to look like they weren’t attempting to nose in on their neighbors. That at least ruled out Carl having gotten a bullet in his ugly forehead.  Considering that Sandys apartment was one of the dark ones, the bastard was likely actually warm and cozy in his bed-which Lee had no doubt was riddled with bed bugs. What a shame. 

The door to a ground floor unit was open, however, so that was likely where the problem was. He could’ve just gone home right then. But he was already there, and unexplained gunshots were pretty unusual in Meade. People out in the holler loved to fire shots off at all hours of the night for reasons only Jesus knew, but Lee liked to think that the center of the county was a little more civilized. 

He rapped his knuckles on the doorframe, but didn’t wait to be invited in-just did it to let the people inside know he was there. Deputy Howser was sat on the sofa, a notepad balanced on his knee. The other person-presumably the apartments tennant-was pacing the short distance between the front door and the kitchenette. Agitated? Definitely. Hysterical? Yet to be seen. 

“Sheriff Bodecker!” Howser didn’t stand to greet him, but did pat the spot on the sofa next to himself. “You’re gonna want to hear this, Sheriff. Pretty lady’s got a real story for you, huh?” 

The apartments tenant paused in her pacing to whirl on Howser like a jungle cat. “How about you try taking me fucking seriously?!” 

Lee sort of thought steam was going to start coming out of her ears. 

“I’m not the one shooting at ghosts, miss.” Howser said, raising his hands in mock surrender. 

Lee stepped farther into the room. For all of the shit he’d done as sheriff, he was pretty good at the actual minutiae of police work. He’d defused more fights and talked down more angry and panicked people than he could count. 

“Take it easy, sweetheart.” He said in his best ‘everything is okay, miss’ voice. “I know you-”

“I’m not your fucking sweetheart!”

The woman had whipped her head to him the moment it left his mouth. There were mascara tear tracks streaking her cheeks, but she didn’t look sad or scared, just pissed to hell. 

She kept going. 

“If one of y’all would just listen to me for one goddamn minute I could explain!” 

Lee sighed and sat down on the sofa. The deputy nudged him, smirking, and Lee realized that the idiot was going to be extraordinarily unhelpful in sorting this out. 

“Get out of here.” Lee told him. Howser didn’t even question it, likely glad to have one more thing cut from his night shift. Back to the station to sit around and drink burnt coffee with his finger up his ass, most likely. 

Once the deputy had gotten his skinny ass out of there, Lee leaned forward, elbows on his knees-ignoring how that position made his gut roll against his belt. He had bigger fish to fry. 

“Listen, miss.” He began. “I can see you’re pretty worked up, that’s no good. How about you take a breath n’ sit down n’ tell me what’s going on. I hear you were shooting at something?”

She held back for a few moments, then seemed to accept that Lee was the best she was going to get and sat down. With the woman on one end of the sofa and Lee on the other, she told the sheriff what had happened. 

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She wasn’t shooting at ghosts. Lee had figured as much from the start, but it was nice to have confirmation. What she had been shooting at-or rather, what she had shot at, as there had, in reality, only been one bullet fired-was a man. According to her, a man she worked with in one of the shabby little offices in the center of town had been following her home for a couple of days. She had looked through the front window and seen his car lingering in the parking lot, pulling up in front of her unit then pulling out again and looping the lot. So she’d gone into the mostly empty parking lot and fired once, just to scare him. “Just so he knew I had a gun.” she’d said. 

Lee scrubbed a hand over his face when she finished the story. Some men just didn’t know how to handle rejection. Not including Lee, of course. Why, he’d never been rejected by a woman! Not that he was pursuing many these days, after the whole mess of the divorce with Flo, but still. 

“I’m not gonna arrest you for being scared.” He said. He wasn’t. If he had really wanted to, he probably could’ve gotten her for disturbing the peace or unlawfully discharging a firearm, but he didn’t really want to. He’d let worse things slide than a pretty young woman taking her safety into her own hands. 

“What if I had someone stop by here on patrol tomorrow night? Stick around the parking lot for a bit, make sure no one who shouldn't be there is hanging around.” 

She looked away from him, worked her hands in her lap. A lot of the furious indignation in her had faded away, replaced by exhaustion and anxiety. 

“What about tonight?” She asked. 

A reasonable question, but one that had Lee sighing and falling back against the couch cushions. “Jesus Christ, miss.” 

What about that night? Sure, Lee could call Howser back up and have him watch for a bit, but the dumbass would probably just upset the lady again. And Lee was already there-now that he had been up and moving for a bit, the queasiness from earlier had pretty much abated. He wasn’t even feeling particularly tired. 

“I’ll stay for a while.” 

“Really?” She didn’t demure or simper about the big strong sheriff not needing to waste his time on a little thing like her-although it would’ve done wonders for his ego. She just raised her eyebrows, a bit bewildered but pretty accepting. 

Lee nodded, then pushed off his knees and stood. Sure, he’d stick around for a bit. He could finish the half a Pepsi sitting in his cruiser and make sure no one sketchy was hanging around. Well, as far as it pertained to this lady and her problem-if they went and hauled out every creep and scumbag from the Plaza Lodge Apartments they’d have half the tenants, Sandy and her no-good cradle snatcher of a husband included. 

“I’m already here. God knows there’s enough to keep an eye on around here.” 

That got a smile out of her, albeit a small one. If he had been about ten years younger, didn’t have an ex-wife with some truly awful stories about him, and his belt wasn’t biting into his lower belly something awful, Lee would’ve been thinking she was real pretty when she smiled. Even when she’d been snapping at Deputy Howser like a rabid dog, she wasn’t bad looking-just upset. 

“I…I really appreciate that, Sheriff Bodecker.” 

Oh, if Lee didn’t just love the sound of that! ‘Sheriff Bodecker’ said with respect like that was music to his ears. If only everyone referred to him like that, instead of ‘Lee’ this and ‘Lee’ that. 

“ ‘S no trouble. I’m used to late nights.” 

Lee didn’t even know he was trying to impress her until it came out of his mouth. It was a bit juvenile, sure, but the little smile didn’t drop from her face. And he was being truthful! Lee was used to late nights-it was just that he was usually meeting with Leroy or carrying out some of that chickenshit bastards pseudo-mafia business. Lee’s preference was to have his belly full, balls empty and ass in bed by 10pm. 

She cocked her head a little, which made her modern bubble hairstyle bob. Flo had wanted to get a haircut like that a couple of years ago, when it just started to show up in the fashion magazines that filtered in from Cincinnati, and Lee had told her that it would make her look like a bobblehead. By far not the worst thing he’d said to Flo, but it still wasn’t great-especially considering how  cute he was finding the same look on this lady. 

She just looked at Lee for a moment, apparently weighing his offer in her mind, then glanced towards the apartments little kitchenette. 

“I could make you a cup of coffee, if you’d like. Or, um, I have some leftover spaghetti, if you’re gonna be around…” 

“That’s alright. I’ll be right out there in the cruiser, stick around for a while and make sure your jackass doesn’t show back up.” Lee hooked a thumb back towards the front door, still standing open against the cool night air. 

“Okay.” She didn’t offer again. The lack of persistence in her offer stung Lees ego, just a little bit. It’d been a bit since a woman who didn’t reek like the sweat and stale beer had paid him more attention than an eye-fucking. Losing Flo really had tarnished his reputation, goddamn her and her suited-up lawyer with his fancy office in Dayton. If he’d really wanted to put up a fight, he could’ve accused Flo of sleeping with the bastard. She almost certainly hadn’t been, but it would’ve made the whole process a bit more inconvenient for her. Maybe that was a petty sort of win to want. Maybe Lee was the sort of man who wanted those wins anyway. 

And that was the end of it. 

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By around 1:45, Lee was dozing off in his cruiser. He’d finished off his room temperature Pepsi, smoked a cigarette, hummed the earworm theme song from 'Name That Tune' and smoked another cigarette. He’d opened and closed the glove box at least six times, contemplating the Chunky bar stowed in there. 

All while keeping an eye on the other cars in the parking lot, seeing if anyone was going to try to cause trouble. He doubted that the idiot who had been bothering little miss thing was going to show back up that night, but that didn’t mean other horseplay wouldn’t happen-though depending on what it was, Lee would have to let it go anyway. The girls down at the Tecumseh and a couple of illegal substances all fell under the umbrella of ‘things Lee let slide for cold hard cash’. 

The door of miss things unit opened up, light spilling out for just a moment. If Lee had turned his headlights on he could’ve gotten a look at what she was holding, but he also probably would’ve spooked her into dropping it. It didn’t matter anyway, because she came right up to his drivers side window. He’d left it rolled down after the first cigarette. It was a nice night for May. 

She offered him a steaming mug with a cartoon cardinal painted on it. The aroma of coffee hit him instantly-good, fresh coffee, not like the shit at the station that comes out burnt then sits in the pot for hours. 

“It’s been a bit. I figured you’d take me up on this, now.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Lee responded, taking the mug. Their hands didn’t touch, though to be fair, the only person who did much touching on Lee those days was himself. 

The coffee was strong and sweet, just how Lee liked it. So she could at least make a good cup of coffee, and really…wasn’t at all bad looking with the tear tracks washed off her face. No Bess Myerson, but that was a high bar. She was plenty attractive for a town like Meade-and a man like Lee. 

A lot of things could be good enough for a man like Lee.

[cryptfile]

✶ nuclear seasons, [ soldier boy x reader ]

summary — he was friend’s with your mom. friend is a understatement cause when he appears in the middle of the night looking for revenge in your little apartment in the suburbs, you know he’s far from being nice.

warnings — +18 minors dni, smut, dead dove do not eat, we have a last name (also a mother!), kind of porn without plot? but not really cause it HAS one okay, we call it 50/50, fem!reader using she/her pronouns, p in v, masturbation ( m! receiving but blink and you miss it), dirty talk, age gap, choking, degradation, spitting (i'm sorry), fingering, mentions of injury, cancer (not you tho), tons of tension.

side notes — i’m never experiencing the post ovulation clarity lmao, that being said english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes, also i’m a whore for jensen ackles, and i stand for what i like proudly. // 5k+

Nightshade is a hero.

You're proud of your mother since you were pretty young. The hero that fought against Vought to death during the time Payback was active, America’s Troublemaker that you only knew as Stella Nightshade, a blonde woman that talked with the death during her golden years.

Maybe it’s your mother the one that pushed you to fight crime, to pursue the bad guys and look out for the victims that can’t stand for themselves, so even when you don’t inherit much from Stella’s gifts, you joined the CIA as soon as you can so you can do something that matters.

You’re the best in your class, work your ass off to be taken serious, to be more than the look of disappointment you receive when people ask, once again, if you have any powers like your mother and you have to admit — In pure shame, that you didn’t born as a superhero but a baby who cried loudly when is too hungry.

But as years pass you make a name for yourself, one that even if differs from Stella’s job has the same noble reasons behind. You also realize you were too naive growing up, believing in heroes that don’t deserve to be called that way.

The country has made a mistake on making superhumans so openly, and it’s clear that got out of control now, backfiring as they got so much power it’s almost impossible to take accountant of any of them.

You’ve worked along Grace Mallory from the shadows, and even when Stella would not be so proud of you for helping get his kind out of the streets, the justice is enough to feed you and keep you warm on a cold night.

You like it that way. You know Grace has a team for it, a legal army of supe-haters as you called them, yet, you prefer to stay in the dark, not let your personal life get involved cause one slip and you can lose it all— Even when you don’t have nothing at all. You like to have an outside life from work, it’s the sane thing to have, so when the CIA Deputy Director asks you about joining the infamous Boys, you politely decline assuring the woman you’ve been more helpful from the outside.

What would Stella Nightshade would say? Now that you’ve grown older and you don’t look at her the same way you used to when you encounter her files and read about your mother. You know she has done wrong, yet with the years, you don't imagine Soldier Boy himself was going to seek for revenge first thing he does when he wakes up, his plan including your mother even when she was long time dead before he even appeared in the picture.

That night especially you let your guard down. It's been a rough couple of weeks back in work, so when the night comes you're a victim of the stress, victim of your bosses and the people that surrounded you. You pour a glass of wine for yourself, light a cigarette even when you haven't smoked in years, and turn on the TV to see something else rather than the face of Homelander in every single channel you've been tuning lately.

It's a weapon. When you leave for a warm shower and start filling the bathtub, you're not aware of what that night was really going to be for you. Oblivious as you stand naked in the middle of the bathroom, holding the glass of wine between your fingers before entering the warm current that relaxed your muscles.

It seems tension is your worst enemy, makes your muscles feel like stone as you got in the water, the cigarette that hangs from your dry lips splashing with tiny droplets of perfumed water as the silence filled the air. It's what you needed, at least ten minutes with your brain shutting off completely, the pleasure you haven't experienced in forever by being so compromised with work.

It's a much-needed break. The smoke that leaves the room by the almost-closed window, the taste of wine still lingering in your lips as you sip another taste of the crimson liquor you love. You don't happen to notice when he's breaking in your apartment, silent and deadly as you were protected by a door closed and a white curtain.

You don't happen to hear him too. The music coming our from your phone is loud enough to silence the knocks on your door at first before breaking the wood, you're too deep in the still water that smelled like roses and vanilla, to even pay attention to what was going on outside the warmth of the four walls that surrounded you.

There's vapor coming out of the water and you find comfort in closing your eyes, in letting the blow of the smoke travel through your throat before suspending itself in the air, flowing as you drank.

In your defense, you haven't been like that in ages.

It's been a long time since you last fill the tub and have a relaxing session with yourself, so it makes sense you are enjoying it a little bit too much, too much cause when the invader is making a lot of noise when stepping into your property, you still enjoy the taste of the alcohol on your lips.

The ashes fall to the ceramic floor outside the tub and you should blame the CIA to make you so tense to the point it leads you to more problems than you ever had. In the dark room of your apartment, it's Soldier Boy the one who's going through any drawer he comes across, the ones closed, the ones hidden, any slit he can find, any clue that can trace your mother back to his personal vendetta.

He's oblivious to Stella's death and her daughter, so when the former superhero hears the noise in the bathroom he's fully convinced it's your mother the one who's behind that door, that she's the one who's going to tell him the truth, if she also sold him to the russians as well in the process.

He's decided also on killing her. She must need it after all that time getting older, closer to death more than ever.

Of course it's an unpleasant surprise when you can see the bathroom door opening when you're sure you left the front door closed and lock with at least two bolts to prevent anyone from getting inside, it makes you jump in the spot, quickly covering yourself from the new stranger that enters your bathroom.

"Stella?" he asks, it's the last room that the hero needs to check for himself.

You spot the green fabric of his suit immediately as you pressed your chest against the cold surface of the tub, and when the invader notices you're naked, he doesn't look away as any person with a hint of respect would do, but instead, continue on checking you out as you try to cover yourself in the water tinted in a nonexistent transparent color red.

You can feel his gaze as soon as you recognize him too, as you happen to notice that face from your mother's pictures, the propaganda in the TV when he did almost every commercial back when you were a kid. It's a shock, and dressed in his damn suit, you don't know why an old superhero is there standing beneath the yellowish bulbs of the light your bathroom happens to have.

Your cheeks adopt this pink color as you panic, grabbing the cup of wine to throw the liquid in the floor, breaking it against the marble walls just to shatter the glass in pieces, a weapon of defense as you lifted up against him.

"You're not Stella."

Soldier Boy looks amused: it's funny that you think you'd be able to kill him with shattered glass, yet he lets you keep thinking that way when he's enjoying the view.

Is he to blame? He just got out from this giant cooking oven back with the communists and he hasn't got his way with a lady since what seems are centuries, so when he spots you in the tub he simply cannot contain himself from peaking around. You should be in what? Not more than your 20's? Soft-looking skin that asked to be marked with his hands, by the force of his lips crashing in your flesh.

The thought is compelling, you're looking all feisty with the glass in your hand, threatening him and speaking something Soldier Boy cannot catch at first — Shit, he doesn't even notice the blood in your hand that's dripping all over your small rug in the floor, the power women like yourself seemed to have now and weirdly enough, a huge turn on.

"Get the fuck out!" you scream in an authority voice, the same you use back at work when you're mad, when you're usually holding a gun in defense more than a piece of broken glass "Stella is not fucking here!"

It takes a few more words to actually get him out of there, and as he closes the door behind him you finally stand to grab a towel covering from the currents of wind, trying, really hard, to think about anything else more that the fact that Soldier Boy has entered your house and your bathroom in the worst moment, far from what you were last updated with.

To be honest, it almost gave you a heart attack, leaving the bathroom to find your home torn apart, the drawers open and all the papers you've meticulously kept in place being all over the place as Ben stands awkwardly holding a shield in the middle of your living room.

"Fucking hell" you're cursing under your breath as you gathered some important things you cannot leave on the floor even when you're still wet from the shower, expelling this nice aroma that mixed the roses and the vanilla together with your personal scent — Weirdly enough, a fucking show to the hero that's already rock-hard from the peak he had of you from before.

You don't really notice it at first, too busy being mad as you let the papers you gathered on top of the table. You lose the shame you got left as the wet drops of the shower leave a trace in the floor — And as usual, you clearly don't notice it, but Ben does when the water is running down your back, and you're barking something about calling someone called Grace, holding onto a white tower with your dear life.

"Where is Stella Nightshade, sweetheart?" he speaks out loud cause he don't understand anything you say, really fighting to be nice with you like it would give him an opportunity to get under your skin.

"My mother's dead," you stand there without knowing what to say after. You know he and your mother were close, but you don't imagine he was going to actually go find her teammate when he recently woke up in a different country. "She died years ago dude, i'm sorry."

The information gathers in his head as you take a clean oversized shirt from the laundry basket covering with it as you throw the towel to the floor, Red Hot Chili Peppers it says, but he thinks it's a place in Italy more than a band like he isn't troubled already by the fact you were Stella's daughter, the person who thought was her only friend back in the time now dead.

"Does anyone know you're here?" your mind is drifting back to work again as you wondered if anyone knew he was going to break into your apartment and choose not to send any help — "Ben."

You've read his file. Hell, to be honest you've read every single file in Payback, so it's no surprise you know his name, but to the hero, it seems to be amusing when you call him by his real name, his mind fueled in a different direction as he notices you're not wearing any underwear beneath the shirt you're choosing to wear, one whose fabric's barely covering your tights.

"What do you mean dead?" he asks, furrowing his brows "It's not been so long."

"She got cancer three years ago" you explain with a sad tone, even when you disagree with Stella, it pains you to remember what sickness made out of her, consuming her from the inside at a cruel pace.

"Motherfucker," he states clearly angry, and you cannot help but look at him with a weird face, searching for the phone you left in the sofa to call any-fucking-body in the office that could send a damn army to get you: Didn't the Boys have everything under control? That's what you're told anyway, then why the fuck is the subject of matter cursing in your little messy apartment? — "Bitch just got away with it before I could do anything, isn't it? What a fucking shame."

"Pardon me?" it catches you by surprise at first, but it hits you soon after. Soldier Boy is not there to say hello to your mother or ask for her help, but instead, he's there to get revenge and actually kill Stella by his own matters.

Fuck. Of course is something new, something that makes you feel cold all sudden, your wet hair making you visible shake as you became aware of his plans.

"You know them. You know the people from the lab" it's more of a fact than a question, letting the words feel salty in his own mouth. "The ones that let me get away."

He's quickly to gather the pieces too, not as dumb as you think he is as the puzzle is finally coming up together in his head, and it's all it takes for him to take a step closer to you, cutting that space you've created since you kicked him out of the bathroom — He's angry now.

The red globe on his hand is now holding you by the throat, applying enough pressure to cut the air flow going to your lungs almost completely, his fingertips warm against your bare skin as he holds you in front of his figure, pushing you against the cold wall.

You usually would enjoy such activities, yet in the context you are trapped in right now, you began to choke, your own hands trying to push his grip back even when he’s too strong, not even flinching when you’re squirming, gasping for some air as your face became red, tears gathering in your eyes as he let you breathe for a couple of seconds when he senses you’re too close to black out.

“Talk little Nightshade” he says in a low voice. “Or else i’m breaking your pretty neck.”

“I work for the CIA!” You explain quickly as your breathing became more labored by the seconds. “Not for the people who let you out! I promise!”

He’s going to kill you. You can see the determination in his eyes, that predator look he happens to have.

What you don’t know, somehow, is that he’s going fucking insane. Your smell coming up to his nose to make him shiver, the sight of you in an oversized shirt that barely covers your shape is more than enough to push his buttons, to make him forgot about any killing he was allegedly so concentrated in fulfill, the sight of you almost crying messing with his brain.

Little Nightshade is a fucking tease.

His eyes follow your expression, the hand that gripped your neck and choke you harshly now pressing enough to only suppress the air flow in a more enjoyable way, the tension quickly shifting from dying to pleasure all over again as he kept you in place so easily.

It’s impossible to move, to do anything more than be pressed against a cold wall. Your mother has once again lied to you and you notice the relationship she painted with Soldier Boy was more of a movie in her head than reality itself. Makes you gulp in response when you stare at his expression, the face of a trained killer as you knew, fucking knew, a bit more of force in your neck and it would snap without any difficulty.

“I don’t work with them” you assure once again, maybe it’s your survivor skills hitting when you repeat it in a low voice, catching on your breath when he lets go allowing you to fill your lungs with air just enough before pressing that very spot again, the one that actually turns you on. “Fuck’s sake.”

Is that how you end? On your lame apartment?

The next is a weird thing, cause in the blink of an eye he’s close to your face planting his own body next to yours and you’re shivering at the feeling, his armor pressed against your chest as he left the shield he was holding on the floor.

The metal is pressed against your skin covered by the thin cotton of Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt, and he is so close, so close you froze there, no longer fighting his tight grip but mesmerized by his damn face, the same you watched on TV when you were a kid, the handsome man you happen to severely crush on in secret, just because you don’t want Stella to know or she will give you a long talk about how he is her age.

But he is, handsome as fuck, and now being so close to his face you can say it with all confidence. His beard is shaved perfectly and he smells incredibly good even for someone who has spent time locked away without any kind of hygiene, his green suit protecting him from the cold air that was getting through the opened window.

“Who are you?” he asks, scanning your face with a curious look as he wanted to know what expression you would have when you know why he's there in the first place — “What do you know about Stella Nightshade, your mother, selling me out?”

Fuck. So that's why he's there. You know she did it. And it's impossible for you to lie when he's making you so nervous, away from any weapon, any form of defense as you left the glass in the bathroom sink when you notice large gash on your hand, and your silence makes nothing more than leave him fuming. If he was angry before, he now reaches a higher level as his grip turns more violent now that he knows you know what he meant, why he's there claiming to talk with your death mother out of nothing.

"Call her then. Use your powers" he demands dryly, and you're shaking at this point cause it's more shame added to the long pile, the bathroom already being a humiliation by itself. "Fucking call her."

You squirm beneath his grabbing, when he's pushing you harder against the concrete wall and you can just feel him from under the suit, hard cock pressing against your belly, green in your vision as he towers over you. He knows what he's doing, and even when you try to be disgusted by it, you find yourself enjoying his closeness, how he's pinning you with no effort at all, hands on your throat while he demanded an answer.

"I can't call her" you admit in a low voice, cheeks now red as the embarrassment crept upon your face — "I don't have my mother's power."

Soldier Boy seems to not believe you for a mere second, after that you can feel the blade of the knife pressing against your skin, a threat that now becomes more real as you can feel the cold metal stomach. One swift movement and you'd be stabbed without a second thought.

It's sick how much you enjoy it when you are squirming against him, goosebumps in the zone he threats to destroy.

A force pull his lips upwards in a smile, unable to pay attention to nothing else but the sound you made without even realizing it. "You like that, huh little Nightshade?"

It seems to be a joke for him, bitting your inner cheek to prevent you from saying something stupid, from letting out a moan in response to all the sudden desire.

Despite all conditions you stay silent, holding his gaze like it's a game you're not going to lose. He didn't respond either, trapped in a second that seemed longer than the usual when time stopped around you, eyes looking like he can surpass the old fabric of the white shirt you choose to wear.

It's the tension what makes you mad. You're so into getting people like him, that your ego is bruised now that you notice you are actually attracted to all of that, to the way he's pressing you against the concrete, how all falls into place when he's pushing himself against you, invading any private space you could require.

He's kissing you soon after. Ben crumbles against the tension as the hand on your throat demands a kiss now, pulling you closer to his face without any warning nor concern as he crash his lips against yours in a rough kiss. You try to push him away in response even when you don't want to; see, it's hard to even admit you have interest in Soldier Boy in any other way more than the professional, but when he's bitting your lower lip you're letting your defense down: When is the last time you've been kissed like that?

You remind yourself you're tired from work, that the CIA has done nothing for you more than fuck your over and over even to this point, losing sight of one of the most important heroes of the word, and it's making you encourage to let go just for a mere hour.

"Lookin' so good takin' a bath" he says, and the sound of his deep voice is enough to send an electric wave through your spine, like he’s talking to himself as the hand on your hip is now tracing the curves of your body, taunting you from over the shirt he now learns to love. His beard is now scraping against your skin and you can feel his lips going down, tracing an invisible path to the crook of your neck as his hand is no longer choking you.

Jesus. Was that even happening or was that your imagination? Did you feel asleep on the bathtub? Maybe it’s a reflection as you are close to drowning, your brain doing that happy thoughts shit. You’re tilting your head to the side just to give him more space to work with and you’re just letting it be, enjoying how he’s sucking and nibling on your skin to leave a red mark behind, all teeth and no fucking control as he uses a good amount of force to make you moan in the process, the pain enough to remember who’s really on charge.

Ben forgets about asking any more questions, he’s too busy when his hand are taking decisions by themselves as they slide under your shirt, body still cold from the bath you just took, water still drying in your flesh when he’s like he usually is — An invader.

His hands are big and they’re capable of holding your whole tummy as he caress the soft skin that seems to expel a warm sensation, how it leaves goosebumps in any place he touches. You remember you’re basically at his mercy now that his hands roam with all liberty under your shirt, the look he gave you in the bathroom mistaken you for Stella, his eyes looking at any exposed skin he could look at.

“What the fuck,” you try to say under your breath, to keep on this facade you have of a composed person, one that won’t give in to be manhandled “What the fuck do you think you are you doing?”

“Well, i’m not seeing any complains” The blade cuts through the cotton leaving a large hole you know you won’t be able to sew after yet he’s right: There are no complains, nothing but eager that makes him go further as the seconds passed “In fact, can see that you’re pretty much enjoying it, Doll.”

You hate the nickname, that old man way of speaking when he’s squeezing one of your breasts with more force you can even handle, cursing at how easy it seems to be for him, how he wants to see you simply destroyed.

“You’re loving this isn’t?” he ask all sudden, studying you with his hazel eyes — “You love being a good whore f’me? My little Nightshade.”

He’s hard under the suit, covered in a green material you don’t know how to call as your hand searches for him, crave for him, convincing that it's what you must do as you trace the invisible lines his muscles made.

Soldier Boy’s messy, much like an animal when he’s groaning beneath your touch, his own body seeking for yours as your fingers grew bolder, demanding for a deeper contact — “Careful there sweetheart, i’m still fresh out of the oven. May be a little rusty."

You laugh at his words cause you know what he means, yet your hands work by themselves as you barely even touch him from over the suit, the hard feeling of his cock against your palm, hips buckling against your hand seconds after seeking for you, eyes shut for a couple of seconds.

“M’being careful” you say, catching yourself stealing a look at his reaction, taking your time on pleasuring him , gulping as he experiences the torture of your touch “Taking it slow for an old man.”

“Old man, huh? Now you're talking” He teases, and the sound of his laugh just fucks you up. Maybe it has to be with the fact he’s placing two fingers in front of your lips while looking at you, swollen pink lips he’s so fixated for a second, or it’s because he is, indeed, way older than you are — “Spit.”

It’s not a command, but it sounds like one as you’re unable to disobey, quickly spitting in his hand as you can visibly see the traces of saliva leaving a wet residue in your chin, one Ben looks at it for a good amount of time: How is something like saliva is so damn erotic? He doesn’t know it, but it’s enough to send him into a spiral.

He’s strong you think, cause he’s a superhero. He’s Soldier Boy by any meaning, so it’s not a big effort to hold you in his arms and lift you in the air as you let out a gasp of surprise, spanking your ass as one of his hands separates your legs for him, holding one up as you stand in the other.

“Relax, 'got you, doll” he says, your back against the wall as he kept a bruising grip in your hip, holding you in place so you don’t have to keep your balance — “Fuck you smell so damn good.”

The roses and vanilla aroma lingers on your skin as you finally understand what he's doing now, his hand close to your cunt as he taunts you, torturing you like you did so eagerly before, his personal pet as his digits get lost in your entrance now, your folds spilled with juice he can physically feel in his fingertips, your arousal's so nice against the palm of his hand he cannot help but kiss you, a feverish desire taking over his actions, the lewd sound his fingers made when he finally pushes his digits inside of you, velvety walls welcoming him as they seemed to squeeze him already — He has made such a good job on turning you on, it’s impossible to not react when he’s finally touching you, pumping into you in a constant pace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he says, the look on your face is enough to make his cock twitch in his pants in response, imagination running wild as he thinks about that very same feeling in a much deeper way, how you’d look now stretched out, crying just like you did when he choked you asking for information — “Such a nice cunt, so wet f’me.”

He's looking at you, holding the image in his mind forever: Pink pussy displayed for him, white t-shirt rising over your chest, lifting your leg over his arm as his muscles flexed by the force he's using to fuck you deliberately, your lips parted as you ask for more in between erratic moans as his fingers curved inside you so he can hit that nice place he can reach with no effort at all, that one spot thats makes you moan louder.

"Ah-fuck" you let out. Ben's all about touching you for what it seems an eternity, thumb grazing against your clit when he's plainly torturing you, testing how much patience you have left now that he has full control of you.

"Don't cum," he demands, your heartbeats are louder by the seconds as he lifts you slightly, lips attacking your neck before the words escape from his mouth "Need you to come undone in my cock first."

He's leaving marks, marks you don't remember how to hide but don't bother you at all, touching you as he pleases you, taking all the time in the world cause it seems like the night belongs to him — Getting started as you shake your head in an improvised yes.

Yes. The thought is pure electricity, the sudden need to please him as you shake your head once again.

“Please Ben,” you don’t recognize what you’ve become now. “Please let me cum in your cock.”

"Go on doll, put on a show f'me" the supe says with a grin you cannot resist. "Bend and show me that lovely ass."

It’s all it takes. His fingers are now away from you, but you’re now facing the wall as you obey, bending until your cheek is pressed against the concrete and you can hear how he’s now unzipping his pants, the green fabric of his suit now to the side.

You look at him from over your shoulder, bitting the your lower lip as you check him out, his slightly curved dick pointing upwards, precum already leaking out.

“Like what you’re seeing or what?”

“Yeah, but there’s no fucking way.”

You’re feeding on his ego now, but you can’t help it when his size is far from what you consider it’s common — “Common’ doll. You can hadle it.”

You gulp in response cause you know you’re more than eager to try, just the sight of his own hand holding his lenght as he strokes himself making you drool in response. Fuck. It transforms in a need now. When he positions himself beneath you and he’s spitting down to that very place where he’s pushing against your hole, saliva coating his cock before just letting the tip inside.

Lubricated, he pushes a bit more and it feels just damn right. Even when it begans to hurt as he’s thick enough to force himself inside you.

Benjamin knows you’re in pain so he waits a second before shoving his cock inside one more time. You need some time as he stretches you out, clenching your teeth while he works.

"You're doing it s'good" he praises, hand massaging your back as he prevents himself from fucking you at his liking, “Takin' me like a champ."

"God" you let out a sharp moan moments after, crying when you felt the pain more than anything else — "Can't-"

"No doll" he hums as he pulls slightly more. “You can do this” he forces himself in until he's finally balls deep inside your cunt, letting you adjust to his size as he can feel fucking everything. Your blood flow, your velvety walls that squeeze him unused to someone as big as he was, your face distorted in what seems an intense mix of pain and pure, devastating pleasure — "Atta girl."

Strikes like lighting.

Soldier Boy's bitting your shoulder-blade as he waits, waits for it to switch into pleasure, to become intoxicating to the point you cannot longer remember your own name.

"Please move," you ask sooner than he thinks, and when he moves, you can feel it in your belly, melting your fucking brain as he repeated the process again, burying his cock as deep as he could go without any previous warning — "Ah, just like that, please-"

"Do you like how my cock is stretching you out now?" Ben's voice is way deeper than what usually is as he laughs, grunting behind you as one of his hands reach a fistful of your hair, grabbing it with force to pull your head backwards "Good girl, keep huggin' my cock."

You're drunk on the feeling, on the vibrations his voice sends every time he's saying something dirty for you, when he laughs victim of the pleasure.

"Gonna' keep you as my personal slut," he thinks out loud, pushing you against the wall every time he fucks you, using his other hand to spread one of your ass cheeks to the side so he can hit it harder. "Use you as my fucking pet so I can cum on your pretty face whenever I want."

He's moaning, your body’s sweaty as he pulls your hair without caring, not concentrated on the pain it produces as his hips continue on collide against you.

"Would you like that, little Nightshade?" he asks then in a low voice, his thumb pressing against your asshole as he fucks you harder now that you're used to his size. "Could get used to this pretty cunt. Promise to keep my cock whore nice and full."

It doesn't take long. Soldier Boy's moans are now filling the room as his pace becomes faster, slurred words between his erratic breathing when the hand on your hair comes up to finally grab you by the neck, like he can read your mind cause it's exactly what you need to get there, to experience by first hand a set of crashing waves that were getting more and more intense on your stomach.

You're close to the edge. He can smell it in the air when the sound of your skin slapping against his is loud enough to be all you can hear, mixing with the lovely moans you produce when he’s pounding into you with no mercy, fingers pressing the side of your neck with enough force you’re running out of breathe.

It’s messy, violent and you love it, love how he’s ruining you all sudden, fucking you up from the inside, making your vision turning dizzy in response. You’re immersed in the haze he’s driven you into before admiting:

“God i’m so fucking close.”

“Cum on my cock,” it sounds like he’s begging you to do it, fingers finding their way to your swollen clit to move against the sensitive flesh “Come on doll, leave me full of you.”

He’s making you move now, hands now controlling your hips as you take him as his liking, mere seconds until you’re finally crumbling, violently shaking as you finally reach your peak. He keeps on fucking you through your high, long enough so he’s pulling out all of sudden, stroking his lenght over you as his cum finally lands on your back leaving you convered with his load.

Fucking hell.

When you’re coming down from your orgasm shame seems to hit you hard, however for Ben is not enough when he’s kneeling on the floor, eyes on the mess his cock made out of you.

“Wanna go again, little Nightshade?” he asks curiously, and the question makes you laugh in response, forgetting about formalities and the trouble it meant you were intimate with Soldier Boy out of all the supes in the world.

“Hm,” you seem to think about it for a second, his breathing close to your wet pussy as he’s still wearing his clothes in contrast of you being so exposed — “But you’re keeping the suit on.”

He don’t have any complains when he’s the one pressing his face against your wet folds.

Funny thing is now when you’re forced to join the Boys days after that very encounter — A bad joke when you’re now babysitting Soldier Boy himself.

“Been missing you s’much little Nightshade” he admits after a couple of minutes alone in the filthy motel “Thinking about how cute you are, how you felt taking my cock so nicely in your living room.”

“Fuck off, Ben.”

“We’ll be quick” he promises “That stupid assholes back there wont even notice.”

You seem to think about it for a second before lifting your middle finger in response — “I said fuck off, Ben.”

For now, it’s enough for him that you’re thinking about it.

my masterlist

[fluentmoviequoter]

Whole Again

Requested Here!

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You're injured during a raid, but your boyfriend Luca doesn't know how bad it is. After you're separated and instructed not to speak, your team finds a way to let you comfort one another.

Warnings: angst, r is shot, a civilian is killed during a raid, fluffy comfort!

Word Count: 2.2k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“One more thing,” Hondo says as you approach the raid location in Black Betty.

“He’s going to hear us coming at this rate, Hondo,” you complain playfully.

“Maybe you can just talk until he surrenders,” Street agrees. “It wouldn’t take long for me.”

“Funny,” Hondo replies, even though you can tell he is amused. “You must want me to say something about the little fling going on here.”

“There isn’t a fling,” Luca calls from the driver’s seat. “And Hicks knows about the relationship.”

“But nice try,” you add.

“Stay liquid,” Hondo concludes, shaking his head as he smiles.

“Fifteen seconds,” Deacon alerts, sitting in the front by Luca.

“Let’s do this!”

You pull your helmet over your head and prepare to exit Black Betty as Luca stops three houses down from your final destination. The man holed up in the dilapidated bungalow down the road has warrants for three violent crimes and has racked up enough charges in fees from missing court over the years to pay off every student loan in America, you think. He’s dangerous, but you trust your team, and patrol officers have given you good intel. Right now, his house is as quiet as it gets. He should be inside, asleep, and likely won’t even know SWAT raided his home until he wakes up in jail later today.

“We got this,” Luca whispers beside you.

“Be careful,” you reply before splitting up.

Luca goes with Deacon to the west side of the house, and you branch off with Street to enter through the back door. Your relationship with Luca isn’t new, but it’s still growing. Luckily for today, you’re out of the stage where being away from him during a breach like this terrified you and it was hard to breathe until you saw him on the other side.

You take a deep breath as Street counts down with Hondo. The explosive on the door blows loudly, and Street leads you into the kitchen at the back of the house as you cover him.

Very quickly, you realize that all of the intel was bad. Hondo curses over the comms, and you begin yelling with your teammates.

“LAPD SWAT!” you yell with Street. “On the ground now! Everybody on the floor!”

The rest of your team is out of sight, caught in different parts of the house, but you can hear them shouting commands. In the kitchen and living room, standing before you and Street, at least 30 men are pushing toward you slowly, speaking to one another in Spanish when they aren’t yelling at you.

“Any ideas?” you ask Street.

“Flash bang?” he replies.

You nod and trade places with him, holding your gun against your shoulder. Several shots echo through the house as Street pulls the small flash-bang from his pocket. Unable to tell where the shots came from, if it was your team shooting or being shot at, you force yourself to focus.

“Back up!” you yell as a man steps toward you.

Just before Street throws the device, someone at the back of the crowd raises a pistol. You begin to warn Street, but you don’t get the chance. Before you hear the shot, the bullet knocks you backward and throws you against Street. He scrambles away from you quickly to keep the men away from you. Three flash bangs detonate simultaneously, and 50 Squad enters the front door to provide much-needed backup.

“Everybody good?” Rocker asks as patrol officers begin escorting the disoriented criminals out of the house.

“I think so,” Hondo replies. “Deacon and Luca are with me.”

Luca looks around, expecting you to walk out of the hallway joking with Street.

“Hondo!” Street yells from the kitchen.

Luca’s chest tightens, his heart feels like it leaps dangerously in his chest, and he steps forward to follow Hondo with pure fear running through his veins.

“Hold it!” Hicks calls, walking into the house with Jessica at his side. “20 Squad, get out of here.”

Hondo explains that something is up with you and Street, but Hicks repeats himself. Rocker nods and then disappears around the corner into the kitchen and doesn’t speak again.

“You can’t talk before the investigation begins,” Jessica adds.

“He didn’t make it?” Hondo asks, remembering the man who was shot.

Jessica shakes her head, and Hondo leaves the house without knowing how his team is. As Deacon prepares to follow him, he pushes Luca forward gently.

“I know,” Deacon says softly. “But we have to go.”

Rocker returns just as Luca stumbles out of hearing distance and requests a medic get inside. The same medic who announced the civilian DOA rushes into the house with a large medical bag bouncing against his hip. Street, however, is told to leave and grumbles as he exits the house.

“I’m fine,” you grumble as he kneels beside you. “It hit my vest.”

The medic pulls your vest over your head carefully, then unbuttons your uniform shirt and pulls the neck of your undershirt away from your chest. He shines a small flashlight against your skin before letting your shirt fall back into place.

“No hospital trip for you today,” he says. “You’re going to be sore and have a painful bruise for a few days, but your vest did its job.”

“Where’s my team?” you ask, hissing as you sit up.

“Headed back to HQ,” Jessica says.

You look up quickly, surprised to see her here.

“A civilian was shot, he’s dead,” she explains. “Until we figure out who took the shot, you can’t see them.”

“I need to tell Luca I’m okay,” you argue. “Two words, please.”

“I’m sorry.”

You stand, refusing her help as you follow another officer to a cruiser. As you fall into the passenger seat, tired and sore, you wonder how Luca will react to this sudden separation.

When you arrive at the station, you get permission to change in the locker room before taking your place in a private room to speak to Internal Affairs. The door closes behind you, and Luca steps out of the shower area, still wearing his tactical gear. He rushes toward you and carefully takes your shoulders as his eyes travel up and down your frame.

You take his hands and smile as you promise, “I’m okay.”

Luca hugs you carefully, though it's more him awkwardly wrapping his arms around you than hugging. “What did the medic say?” he asks.

Before you can answer or get too comfortable in his hold, an IA investigator opens the door and demands, “Officer Luca, we need you.”

“Can I get just a second?” he requests.

“No.”

You can see Luca’s attitude shift as he steps back. He doesn’t want to leave your side while you’re injured, and being forced to makes him grumpy. But he’s a good officer, and he’s going to listen. For a while, at least.

“I’m sorry, Luca,” Hicks says in the hallway. “But it’s protocol.”

“I don’t even know what happened to her!” he argues.

“And you won’t until after we’re finished. But I can promise you she’s okay.”

Luca stops outside the door where the IA team is waiting. He lowers his voice to reply, “She got shot, Hicks, you know she isn’t.”

Several minutes later, you exit the locker room in the most comfortable clothes you could find. After finding a place to sit and wait, you watch the hallway opening, hoping that Luca will come down here at some point and you can explain everything to him.

“Luca!” you call as he exits an office.

He steps backward, then turns to walk toward you.

“Officer Luca,” the officer behind him directs. “This way, please.”

Luca’s jaw tightens as his anger increases. The grumpiness he showed in the locker room was cute, you thought, but he’s getting worse. If you don’t get a chance to tell him what the medic said soon, he might snap and get himself in trouble. So, you decide to find an opening to promise you’re okay.

“Officer Luca,” the man repeats. You look up again, surprised to see Luca squaring his shoulders before the other man. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” he warns lowly.

Luca’s fingers tighten into a fist, but he turns and storms away. You exhale in relief, then stand and follow them at a distance. The officer instructs Luca to wait by the sparring ring, then walks into Hick’s office.

Because he’s alone, you walk to Luca's side and bend forward to kiss his cheek. After kissing his cheek, you begin to pull away from him. “The medic said I’d be sore and bruised for a while, but the vest kept the bullet from doing any real damage. I’m absolutely okay, Luca. I promise.”

Luca nods, and says, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You walk away from Luca and feel his eyes on you until you turn the corner to return to your previous place.

“Where were you?” Jessica asks.

“I needed a tissue,” you lie. “Are they ready for me?”

“Not yet. Do you need anything?”

You sit down and shake your head. The only thing you need is Luca, and you already know the answer to that request.

You let your eyes close as you continue to wait. Soft footsteps echo in the hallway before they stop beside you. You recognize Luca’s touch as he lays his hand on your thigh and squats beside you. Opening your eyes, you smile and lean forward to wrap him in a hug. He reciprocates, being careful of where he touches you.

“Incoming,” someone warns from the end of the hall.

As Luca stands, you see Street standing guard and smile to thank him.

“We’re going to get time to talk,” Luca promises. “I’ll be back.”

You assume that the rest of your team will assist him in returning, likely aware of how worried he is. Over the next few hours, you’re all in and out of interviews with IA to account for every move and every breath you took in the house. Between those conversations, you and Luca find each other in quiet hallways, behind open doors, and tucked behind lockers for tiny moments to talk and show each other that you’re okay. The worry goes both ways: Luca is worried about your injury and you’re worried about his happiness and carrying residual concern about losing sight of him during the raid. The little moments aren’t enough, but they’re something, and your team helps you find every spare second you can.

Hiding behind Hondo so it appears that he and Luca are simply facing opposite directions to bide time, you ask, “Can I come over tonight?”

“If you think there’s another option, we need to get your head checked.”

“Sergeant Hondo, we’re ready for you,” someone calls before you duck around a corner and return to solitude.

Twenty minutes later, Hicks and Hondo exit his office together.

“20 Squad!” Hicks calls.

You join Deacon’s side, and he offers you an arm, unsure what the extent of your injury is. You smile and thank him, but don’t have a chance to tell him why you said no before Hicks dismisses you.

“IA has cleared all of you, you’re free to go home and get some rest,” he adds. “Sorry again about all of this, but…”

“We know how it is,” Deacon responds.

You take Luca’s hand as you walk to the locker room, and don’t let go as you gather your things and walk to his truck. The ride to his house is spent in silence. There’s too much to say, too many emotions involved, to have the conversation in the car.

Luca helps you inside and invites you to get comfortable. Once you’re in his bed, he climbs beside you and wraps an arm around your shoulders. Turning slightly, you let Luca rest his head on your shoulder as his other arm lies gently across your waist.

“Are you okay?” you ask, trailing your fingers up and down his back.

Luca moves slightly, and you suddenly realize that he’s crying. You slide down in the bed, not caring that it hurts, to take his face in your hands.

“Luca,” you murmur, holding him tightly. “It’s okay.”

You fall silent then and let Luca release all the emotions he’s been carrying since this morning. Several minutes later, he quiets but keeps his arm around you as you hold him.

“I’m okay,” you promise softly. “I’m sorry.”

Luca shakes his head, silently promising he’s not angry with you. “I thought I was going to lose you. It terrified me.”

“Hey,” you whisper, encouraging him to look into your eyes. “I’m never leaving you.”

“You can’t make that promise.”

You nod, then amend, “I’m not leaving you, not without a fight. I’ll come back to you, even if I’m crawling, okay?”

Luca hugs you tightly, then releases you to say, “Sorry, sorry! Are you okay?”

You laugh at his reaction, getting close to him again. “I’m great now. I love you, Luca.”

“I love you,” he replies. “I’m not leaving you either.”

“Then it’s a good thing you didn’t punch anyone in IA.”

Luca groans, dropping his head against your shoulder. You feel whole again beside Luca despite the pain and fear of the day. Luca’s phone vibrates with a text from Street asking when Luca will cook to thank them for helping you today, and though you ignore it, knowing that your team cares about you and your relationship makes everything a little better.

[stars-and-the-min]

☆ the wrong way to hard launch (6) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n the highs (friends) and lows (exes) of life aka lina lore 👀 preface : i know nothing about nfl or american football so suspend ur beliefs if u happen to know a thing or two, also my amateur photoshopping skills are really improving from this

masterlist | last part | part 6 | next part

INSTAGRAM

logansargeant

liked by alex_albon and 142,394 others

logansargeant The long-awaited ultimate rematch tagged: selinabui and oscarpiastri

alex_albon Wait, why wasn't I invited?

selinabui ok captain america pack it up ↳ logansargeant @ selinabui Stay mad 😎 ↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui Why would you challenge two professional racing drivers to a racing game? ↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri i thought you loved me? ↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui Ah but you love winners more 😏 ↳ logansargeant @ oscarpiastri Stop flirting in my comments???

cofrisy_f1 LOSCAR??? OSCALINA??? LOLINA???

beemiepie she chose the orange car 🥺🥺🥺 ↳ siera_mblanc @beemiepie a true papaya girlie 🧡🧡

cameliazzz just posted to their story

replies selinabui cami, did u or did u not insist u'd be fine 😭

lukaszhang the SLANDER??? didn't we have loads of fun???

aidan_ebass Touché Millie, see you soon?

eb_jonno sidenote: can you bring mochi on the plane? are there food restrictions?

oscarpiastri

liked by opeightyone and 121,983 others

oscarpiastri 次回まで trans: until next time

piastri_lina obsessed with this couple's dedication to never tagging each other

opeightyone Get 'em next year 💪

selinabui currently feeling like a 1930's housewife waiting for her husband to return from war ↳ cameliazzz @ selinabui HELLO NOT YOU PLAGARISING MY STORY??? FOR A GUY??? ↳ selinabui @ cameliazzz nooooo wifey i didn't mean like that :(((

TWITTER

lina !!! @EB_selina · 37m you've gotta be shitting me

NFL Jersey Numbers @nfljerseywatch · 1h Tennessee Titans RB Thomas Howard (@THowdy) is wearing number 24. Last worn by Kenny Vaccaro. #Titans

↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 34m no fucking way... i don't wanna jump to conclusions but... ↳ emme @flowersforcami · 32m he tweeted about it. girl- jump to those conclusions.

Thomas Howard @THowdy · 58m The move to the #Titans has been a huge change, and 24 has been a number close to my heart for many years, I'd consider it a lucky number for a lucky year 👊 ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 23m eat shit and die i'm so fucking serious you have no right to wear her number ↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 22m hahaha (not) funny but april fools was last week say sike RIGHT NOW

fiona🩷 @fififorlina · 29m thinking about how tommy is playing with lina’s number i'm weak 😭 ↳ 🕯️manifesting EB3 🕯️@ linabelles · 13m no, we're absolutely not doing this, it's not sweet at all, do you even know how badly he treated lina? ↳ emme @flowersforcami · 11m there are tommy-supporting linami’s in this day and age???

oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 39m lina watching her ex and cousin play/drive with her number be like:

↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 23m idk how to feel bc it's kinda hilarious that our little rockstar is slowly plaguing the sporting world with her number

lina !!! @EB_selina · 22m @LoganSargeant for my own mental health we're not going to talk for the next... 50 years ↳ Logan Sargeant @LoganSargeant · 8m I'm sorry? Did I do something wrong? ↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 5m it's not you, it's just your countrymen (i'm generalising again)

MESSAGES

from the phone of selina bui

TWITTER

liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 35m WHY IS EVERYONE FLOODING MY TL WITH T*MMY SHIT ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 34m lina is one of the only music girlies who is SO SO SO vocal about how much she HATES her ex and you still can't listen to her??? ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 34m not just with her music but as in SHE OUTRIGHT HATES HIS GUTS ON MAIN she COULD NOT possibly make it clearer that she would rather shoot herself in the head than ever consider getting back together with him ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 33m i'm so tired can't you just let the woman be happy with oscar ↳ abby <3 @devilvows · 17m liv, baby, i think you need to change ur name to 'defense minister of linami nation'

INSTAGRAM

selinabui

liked by oscarpiastri and 139,204 others

selinabui some weird second string loser who's not worth mentioning

cameliazzz thought the message was 'let everyone know i'm doing ok'? ↳ selinabui @ cameliazzz message appropriately sent :)

oliviarodrigo AAHHH stunning as always 💝💝 ↳ selinabui @ oliviarodrigo watch out, the literal moment we're in the same city i'm hunting u down (my favourite american 🥺)

oscarpiastri Haha not me though right :) ↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri idk maybe...?

TWITTER

lina !!! @EB_selina · 1h this is really hindering my enjoyment of 'so american' ↳ Oscar Piastri @ OscarPiastri · 1h I reaaally hate to break it to you but I think you might be the American in this relationship ↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 53m take that back rn i'm serious ↳ Oscar Piastri @ OscarPiastri · 49m Which one of us has lived in California for half a decade? 🤔

↳ abby <3 @devilvows · 37m can you imagine waking up to that face? oscar piastri, you lucky bitch

↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h oscar piastri i was not familiar with your game ↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h selina, i understand you now, i get it now, truly i do, hooooly

oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 1h i think the entire empty bottles fandom and oscalina shippers trying to cleanse the tl by posting some of the most jaw-clenching, hottest pictures of oscar and lina is so funny ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 1h the best part is that it's actually working and also so many more empty bottles fans are realising how unfairly attractive oscar piastri is

INSTAGRAM

selinabui Seoul, South Korea

liked by oscarpiastri and 138,958 others

selinabui heal my s(e)oul tagged: cameliazzz, blublublupi, and lukaszhang

lukaszhang i thought i specifically asked you not to post that ↳ selinabui @lukaszhang i actually wasn't gonna but then you told me not to so obviously i had to

oscarpiastri 🧡 ↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri any other fucking colour heart i beg ↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui You know I'm contractually obligated

emptybottlos i'm convinced they agreed to go on tour just to travel, visit friends and eat a bunch of authentic food

ceciliapham someone else is in seoul rn 👀 ↳ marie_h.sb @ceciliapham in what world do you think your gonna see lina and chris yamada in the same room again?

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification @cherry-piee

[k-4-ni]

GOLDEN RETRIEVER! DICK GRAYSON X FEM! READER

WARNINGS: NSFW, MATURE THEMES, DON'T BE READING THIS IF YOUR UNDER 18 TF, P IN V, CONSENTED BEFORE, CREAMPIE, NIPPLE PLAY, GRINDING (OR CALL IT DRY-HUMPING WHATEVER TICKLES YOUR PICKLE).

This man is the most golden retriever boyfriend found in all the 50 States of America.

You think all the villains and ruthless criminals of Gotham would stop him from spoiling his precious little baby? He's been through worse.

Kisses, Kisses, Kisses, this man is all about kisses and hugs, cuddling you from dusk until dawn if he could, if he could.

Sure, his work might delay a few steamy make-out sessions or heart-warming snuggles for a few hours but nothing beats coming back home, shoulders slumped and bone-deep exhaustion seeping through him, only to find the love of his life curled up, thick and fluffy blankets hugging their tiny form, Waiting to be caressed and cradled, just begging to be touched.

Who can resist such a cute little kitten? He'd be snarky about it, maybe even daring to be taunting as he curled up against your form, fitting together so perfectly like he was the missing piece to your puzzle, the way his prominent and firm bulge would snuggle up from between your bubbly ass cheeks made his heart leap out of his tightened chest.

He had to dig his bleached teeth into the soft flesh of his bottom lip, biting back a breathy groan as his fingers would press into the fats of your hips, Thank god you were wearing such tight fucking shorts.

His brain would be foggy, thoughts of just being buried into your moist and silky walls filled his senses, mindlessly trailing his fingers lower between you and reaching out for his throbbing cock, nose scrunching with slight irritation before he could make out the reddened and swollen tip of his cock peeking out from his latex shorts —which he wore underneath his costume—.

Oh god, how much he missed you, If only you knew how many times the thought of you being curled up alone, bitter and cold air seeping into your bones and peeling away at the blissful warmth that one radiated off of you, oh how he'd wrap you up in his strong and beefy arms, heating and warming you up as he wished he could shove the tip of his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing and smelling in your refreshing lavender scent.

This man would make HIS pockets hurt, He doesn't care if you think it's daddy's money or his, he's buying you that diamond necklace you were ogling at the jewellery shop —even if it was just a simple glance—, This 200+ Ibs of a man would buy you every scent of Italian and Morrocan perfume he could find because he just loves it when he's pounding you from behind, his thick and calloused fingers digging into the fat and juicy flesh of those thick thighs of yours, watching as your pussy sucked all his meaty and girthy length in, He could feel his already throbbing mushroom tip kissing at that gooey and silky spot deep inside of you, And he could just pin your body up against his, shoving his nose deep into the crook of your neck as he smelt that earthy and tangy scent of the perfume that HE bought you.

All the sexy and small lingeries he thinks will curve and hug at you bubbly ass better, just so he could rip it off later when you two got home, occasionally squeezing the silky fat of your thighs or glancing down at you with those 'I'm going to fuck you balls-deep when we get home' eyes.

Ever seen those lingerie with the bows placed against your nipples? He goes fucking feral for them, He made you laugh once when saying you're like a kinder surprise, removing this sticky and unwanted piece of plastic, only to find your plump and hardened nipples from beneath, practically begging him to suck on them and ravish them until they were swollen and puffy just like his cock.

[saskiahaggens]

Can you write something about Jimmy x Reader? 👉🏼👈🏼

Of course I can, but I have to tell you that I dislike it… I'll most likely edit it later.

Most of you have probably noticed that I haven't uploaded anything in a long time. So, as a quick update, I by now am legally allowed to drive and I started my last year of school. I'm not sure how much I can upload, because our school year is quite short, but I will do my best to respond to all of the requests as soon as possible. Please accept my apologies for the long speech. I love you all for the appreciation. I wish you luck for school an work.

I Survived 50 Hours In America

Masterlist

Pairing: Jimmy x fem!Reader

Warnings: none I guess

Word count: 1586

You weren't thrilled when Jimmy suggested going to Antarctica. It was frosty, very bright owing to the sun, and you wouldn't have a decent bed to sleep in. Obviously, you had to fly there, which you were not delighted about. But Jimmy asked you to come along, and who were you to refuse?

"You okay?" Chandler asked above the rumblings of the plain.

"Could be better. We should've brought hot chocolate."

After you mentioned that, Chandler pulled a sorrowful expression. You should have thought about it sooner.

Jimmy was on the other side of the plain, working with the others to prepare some great scenes for the video. You weren't assisting since you had your head buried under your jacket, so you couldn't look outside. Normally, you weren't terrified of heights, except when you sat in a plain that didn't appear or seem safe. They wanted to you wait on the plain after Jimmy left so you could get an amazing shot of you and the rest of the group approaching him.

It seemed simple until the guy in front of you stumbled. You weren't able to react quickly enough and fell face first as you stumbled over his foot.

"Gosh, Y/n." Chandler laughed when you landed in front of his feet.

While everyone else was laughing, he was kind enough to pull you up.

"Well, it's safe to say that the snow tastes nothing like vanilla ice cream."

"Is this something people believe?" Jimmy questioned as he tried to remove some snow off of you.

Chris shrugged, "I've never heard of anything like this."

"Whatever. You thought the moon was made of cheese until we were around thirteen," you rolled your eyes, while the others chuckled.

"As amusing as it is, guys." We should get started. Unless you want to be stuck in a blizzard," Jimmy reminded us, and we all groaned.

"I can't wait to freeze to death.", Chandler smiled.

Jimmy gave the pilot a wink and he took off. We started walking shortly after that. Everyone was hauling their sleighs behind them. George happened to be right next to you, chatting about who knows what. The blizzard made him incomprehensible. You attempted to explain it to him, but he didn't understand you either, so you just let him go on. When you arrived at the location for the camp, everyone began to set up their tents.

Some of you almost immediately realized that it was nearly impossible for them to set up a tent in this wind, so some of you began to build a wall to protect the camp from the wind. While it made things a little easier for you, George, Jimmy, and Karl kept assembling the tents.

Regardless of who went where, all of you instantly huddled in them when the blizzard intensified to wait it out, when you were finally done.

Finally, save from the cold wind and the snow flakes which felt like little needles picking your skin, you could take of your googles.

"This was disgusting," you said, referring to your soaked jacket and pants.

"Hopefully this will be over soon. It's rather crowded in here. Get your feet out of my face, Chris." Tareq muttered.

You hadn't realized how close you were to Jimmy, who was also in this tent. Blood shot to your cheeks, but you could at least blame it on the cold.

The tent's walls suddenly began to collapse and landed on you immediately. The air was filled with cursing and the never-ending shifting of the tent's fabric.

You attempted to pull the fabric aside so you would be able to see someone, but it was like trying to get to the short end of a blanked at night, since the wind pushed the fabric back in your face every few seconds. You began to panic, concerned about how hard it was being pressed in your face from time to time.

"Y/n? "Are you okay?"

You spotted Jimmy when the crimson fabric lifted off your head. He must have noticed your fear since he moved closer to you to raise the piece of fabric higher.

"Yeah. This was terrifying. Like a crimson avalanche."

"You told me about your Claustrophobia once. Sorry to bring you into this."

"Don't worry. I-"

"Y/n is scared by Santa Claus?"

"Chris really? They had a moment."

"What are you even talking about, Tareq?", you asked.

"Oh come on. Everybody knows you two are in love."

"Tareq really? Stop it."

"No way, Chris. This frustrates me. It's so clear, I mean. Jimmy spent hours last week reassembling some Oreo's for you since you had a horrible day and he knows you like the with stuff."

"Any friend would have done something like this." Jimmy denied.

"Okay, and how about yesterday? Y/n-"

"Okay! Tareq we get it.",you interfered.

"No, I'd like to know what happened yesterday. It had to be a very significant event for Tareq to snap. This didn't seem possible to me."

"Chris, I swear to god.", you threatened.

You were frightened since Jimmy wasn't speaking, but you were saved by the others just as you were going to glance at him.

"Is everything all right in there?" Karl asked as the entire tent rose up, revealing a beaming Chris, a still unhappy Tareq, and Karl who peered inside.

You grabbed your googles and exited the tent, unable to bear the humiliating experience. Karl worriedly yelled after you, but you quickly made your way around the wall and came to a halt after about three minutes. Maybe you should just go back home and swim. You'd definitely die within the first two or three hours, but this would be truly amazing right now.

You watched the guys from the distance, rebuild the tent, raise the wall, and put the sleighs' belongings in the tents, when Jimmy started walking in your direction.

You were out and about to just walk away further, but you would have to talk to him. For the sake of the others, otherwise this trip would be really difficult for everyone, and you have at least a little privacy right now.

Jimmy sat down next to you and said, "We need to talk."

"I know."

You then remained silent. How can you even begin such a discussion? Just tell him the truth? No, this isn't one of those stereotypical romance novels where one character rants about their feelings only to be interrupted by the other's kiss. This is the real deal.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way.", Jimmy mumbled finally interrupting the silence.

"I somehow knew. Or at least I wished it was."

"So Tareq was right? You like me too?"

"How could I not."

Shortly the silence took over again, but now you were sure, if you won't finally speak up, you could end up ruining more than a potential relationship. "I've liked you for years, but even after finally admitting it to you and myself, I still don't feel relived."

"Probably because how it happened. Tareq deeply apologized . You should speak with him later. It will lift your mood."

"I still can't believe he snapped."

"I'm with you. I had no idea his voice could get this loud."

You laughed, and then there it was. The long-awaited sense of relief.

"Thank you."

Jimmy stared at you, perplexed, but you simply rested your head on his shoulder.

"For being here, for making me laugh or have I ever thanked you for giving me this job?"

"Like, a thousand times." He burst out laughing. "Hey, would you tell me what happened yesterday?"

"Promise you won't find it weird."

"I promise."

"I picked up Tareq. Well, when he got into my car, I had forgotten to change the playlist, and he found my worst secret."

"You love One Direction?"

"That's not what this is about... I think. Well, I have a playlist full of songs you might like or told me about."

"Okay. I don't see a problem."

"I labeled it 'Jimmy <3'"

"To be honest I think's cute. You need to show me when we get back." he laughed.

A bit embarrassed you took a hand full of snow and pushed at in his face.

"Oh, you will regret this."

He tossed some snow in your face and pushed you over. Naturally, you started defending yourself, but after a few minutes of rolling around in the snow, you gave up.

"All right, you've won. Please stop. I have so much snow in my jacked that I'm afraid I'll get frost bite."

Jimmy stopped, looking down at you, before he suddenly leaned down on his forearms, coming closer to your face.

"Oh yeah? Well there is nothing like giving up where I'm from."

You moved in close to kiss him, taking advantage of his proximity. Jimmy kissed you back, and you swapped places without his noticing. Using this new position, you threw some snow in his face and rushed back to your tent, shivering but glad that you finally got to kiss Jimmy, and by looking over your shoulder and seeing him still laying there, you knew this wasn't the last kiss you'd have.

[ericityyy]

Good afternoon, I just recently came across your blog and I really liked the way you write.

Can I request a story about how Sheldon found a new friend fem reader.

The two of them have a lot of common interests:she also loves comics, video games, science fiction, and so on, just like him.

Thank you in advance for the answer and also apologize in advance for mistakes English is not my native language.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯.

𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚: 𝘍𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 (𝘗𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤)

𝙏𝙮𝙥𝙚: 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 692

𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

“I’m telling you, Shelly, there will come a time when all versions of Spiderman will meet.” Y/N argued with the boy, “And if that happens, you’ll owe me 10—scratch that, 50 bucks.” The girl crossed her arms smugly.

Sheldon, who always loves being right, stretched out his hand with a nod of his head and said, “Alright, I’ll bet on that. But only if it was made into a movie. If not, then you’ll owe me 50 bucks and be my servant for the whole week.” Y/N shook his hand with one movement as they both looked arrogant and smug. People would believe that they’re the actual twins because of how similar their personalities and expressions were.

“Dinner’s ready!" Mary called out from the dining room of Cooper's residence. Both Sheldon and Y/N stood up and walked toward the living room, each carrying a pair of mittens for the both of them. “Oh, Y/N, will you be staying for dinner?”

Y/N nodded her head politely, her hands on her back. “Only if I am not intruding, Mrs. Cooper. Your cooking always tastes divine.”

“Of course, hun. You could always eat here.” Mary laughed as she watched the two kids sit down on their respective seats, Y/N being in between Georgie and Sheldon’s seats.

After a while, all the Coopers are now present at the table. “Let’s say grace.” Mary put her hands on the table as did everyone else, except Sheldon and Y/N, who were in the process of putting on mittens and being watched by the family.

“I hope you do not mind me wearing my mittens; I just have a hard time making skin-to-skin contact, not knowing whether you washed your hands or not," Y/N said as she placed her hands on top of Sheldon and Georgie’s. George Sr. smiled stiffly at the girl as he gripped in his hands his wife’s hand and Sheldon’s.

“We don’t mind, dear, not at all.” George Sr. then made eye contact with Mary as the woman just mouthed to him, ‘Let them be.’

“Thank you, God, for the food we are about to receive and for the nourishment of our bodies, and bless the hands that prepared it. Amen.” All of them then released hands and then dived into eating the food prepared by the matron of the house.

“Y/N.”

“Yes, Sheldon?”

“To continue our conversation earlier, who do you think would win between Captain America and Iron Man?” Sheldon took a spoonful of his food as the rest watched their conversation.

Y/N seemed to be thinking of an answer: "Well, Cap has strategy and can be cool-headed at times, making him able to think of what to do next; his leadership skills are also there. Iron Man, on the other hand, is a genius, no doubt; he made all his suits himself, and he could totally make any weapon with any material given to him, so I vote for Iron Man.

“What?!” Sheldon dropped his utensils hard on his plate, which made the whole table quiet. “You’re letting your biased thoughts infiltrate what is the truth.”

“It may be so, but you asked who I think will win, and I gave you my answer," Y/N calmly stated while eating a spoonful.

“No! You’re wrong; if you take out Iron Man’s suit, what is he?”

"He is a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and he is Tony Stark. Like I said, he can make any weapon, whatever material you give him. I’m not saying that Cap is weak or something, but everything special about him came out of a bottle; without that, he would be this twig honorable soldier with good morals.”

“But…”

“You told me if I took out Iron Man’s suit, now that I have listed out the possibility of Cap not having his serum, what then?”

And for once in his life, Sheldon kept quiet. He was flabbergasted that it left his family speechless, until Missy spoke, “Oh man, now there’s two of them.” She leaned her hand on her face before smiling at Y/N, “But you’re tolerable.”

“Hey!”

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

thank you so much for requesting this! i am so sorry for posting this late but i hope you like this!!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

@bellaisswagger // @somesimpformen

[const3llatio]

Sugar Cloud

Megumi x Fem!Reader

8. How odd (✎)

<<previous | next>> | <<masterlist>>

-guys if there are spelling errors in any of these chapterd IM SORRY I WRITE HALF OF THEM AT 2 AM THW DAY THEYRE SUPPOSED TO BE POSTED 😣😣

-um chat i looked it up and in japan u have to be 18+ for a license

^just pretend its like america where u can drive around 16 ! (even though theyre 15 JUST PRETEND .)

-ty to 1l-ynn and darkcowboypirate for the ideas 4 this ch ! i dont think i used 1l-ynn’s idea in this ch but it will be used soon 😈

^i tried my best to use their ideas in some way but even if i didnt they game me motivation to finish this ch so credits to them 😋😋

-i posted this earlier than usual bcus im going to the lake later 🗣️🗣️

taglist: (11/50) @gumiiiiezzzz @1l-ynn @sn1perz @shuuji71 @coldcoffemold @tr4shygrrl @notveevee @darkcowboypirate @estella-novella @juliiizh @satoryaa

[yes-divine-ruler]

Sexting the Councilman - Kai Anderson

x fem!reader

CW: male masturbation, sexting w/ daddy kink

Word count: 1011

"America for the Americans! We are the wall!" Running candidate Kai Anderson ignites the crowd in a commotion of cheers and applause.

Kai smiles out at his supporters as they chant back to him, soaking in the vibrancy of the atmosphere. His phone pings on the lectern podium, and he looks down briefly to see a text message from you. Unfortunately you couldn't make his big speech, and to be frank, Kai didn't mind. He'd done his best to seperate you, the light of his life, from his plan for world domination.

You (15:33): how's your speech? kai for council!

Kai's eyes almost bugged out of his head when he saw you'd attached a photo of you, across his desk in the basement, in an electric blue floral lace body suit, your thighs strapped in matching suspenders and garters.

You (15:34): can't forget the hat!

Kai chuckled when he'd saw the selfie you sent him next, wearing an Uncle Sam hat, that was embodied with small iridescent sequins.

He couldn't deter his gaze from the first photo, it was so fucking hot.

Kai eventually looked back up at the crowd, bidding them farewell with a grand wave, not without riling up the crowd again as he walked off stage. Letting out a sigh, he entered town hall, his phone held securely in his palm as he made his way to his campaign office.

"Right, everyone out!" Kai called, startling Gary and Jack who were sorting posters and arranging "Vote for Kai Anderson" signage.

"Divine Ruler, are you alright?" Gary noticed Kai's face flushed crimson, and the thin layer of sweat that sheened his forehead.

"Yes, now fucking leave, I have shit to do," Kai grumbled, sitting down in his desk chair and tucking himself under the desk. He was hoping they didn't notice the bulge growing under his suit pants.

"Yes, sir," they both filtered out of the room, locking it behind them as Kai let out a sigh of relief. He was finally alone to look at your photos, and he couldn't be more thrilled.

Kai (15:45): fuck my little lamb, you're so sexy, speech went well. Have any more for me?

Kai grinned as he sent the message, relaxing in his chair in a slump and hastily unfastened the button on his pants.

You (15:46): there's always more for my big sexy councilman, speech finished?

Kai sucked in a sharp breath as he saw you'd sent a video, my god did he love when you sent him videos.

Kai pulls down his boxers just enough to take out his throbbing cock in one hand, while the other holds his phone as he plays the video.

Turning the volume up obnoxiously loud, he watches intently, softly stroking himself as you bend down in front of the mirror, moving your panties aside, catching a glimpse of your heat wet with your own arousal. Kai doesn't know how many times he replays it before he finally replies.

Kai (15:50): id end the speech halfway through just to sit behind my desk and jerk myself off. Holy shit you've got me so hard.

You (15:52): you're so dirty daddy, come home so you can touch me. I'm so wet, I can't even think straight.

Kai (15:52): you know I can't yet. But.. you can show me how wet you are.

Kai closed his eyes for a moment, his bottom lip between his teeth as he thought of your slick walls contracting around his hard cock, daddy, please, more rolling off your tongue. His eyes opened again eagerly with another ping from his phone.

You (15:54): from the back, just the way you like it daddy :)

Kai opened the image from you, groaning quietly whilst his eyes scanned down the arousal that dripped from your folds, pooling into your panties that you'd pulled down halfway down your legs, your bare ass wholly on display.

Kai (15:56): fuck baby, your ass is so perfect. Can't wait to pound into you, i need to feel you so bad

You (15:56): I'm in the mood to fuck myself on your cock, would you let me?

Kai (15:57): you're such a good little girl. Ill have to wrap my hands around your pretty throat, need to see you gasp for air

You (15:57): will you fuck up into me when I get tired daddy?

Kai (15:57): I'm gonna make you cum again and again you won't be able to walk.

Kai's heart was pounding loudly in his ears as he panted to the rhythm of his fast strokes, spitting into his hand for lubrication. His thumb brushed over the tip, just the way you did it, his hips coming up greedily to meet with his hand.

You (15:58): is that a promise? I'll be so sensitive!!!

Kai (15:59): you'll cum as many times as I make you. Don't disobey daddy.

You (15:59): I think I'm already close to my first daddy.. I don't know how I'm gonna have more

Kai (16:00): what are you thinking about baby?

You (16:01): your fingers in my mouth, pulling my hair, wrapped around my neck.. how you call me a good girl when I make you feel good, your cock pounding in and out of me. Your tongue! Fuck please spit in my mouth daddy.

"Divine Ruler? There's a call for you," Kai recognised Gary's voice from outside his office, slamming his hand down on the desk in a fit of rage.

"Fuck off Gary! I told you I'm fucking busy!"

When Gary went silent, Kai let out a sigh of frustration, before returning to looking through his text conversation with you.

Kai (16:03): fuck, i can’t wait any longer. Just got interrupted, I was so close. I’m coming home now, do not cum without my permission, you hear me?

You (16:04): I may have already.. I’m so sorry

Kai (16:04): in for a long night then princess, see you soon.

[streetkid-named-desire]

Cyberpunk 2077 Barbie Dream Closet Virtual Photography for Charity Extravaganza

Do you play on console? Are you afraid of modded clothes or posing with AMM/PMU? Do you just want to support some charities?

Send me your request and if you use modded items and I'll let you know if I can do it or not. If I can, then send me a screenshot via ask or DM of your donation receipt and all the info listed under "what I need from you." Also, if you prefer chatting over Tumblr DM or Discord. I won't get started until I see proof of your donation 😅

Charities to support

Palestinian Children's Relief Fund

World Central Kitchen

Red Crescent

Brazil Foundation

America Relief Agency for the Horn of Africa

Islamic Relief Worldwide

Ukrainian Red Cross

National Bailout

Jewish Women International

This will probably be an ongoing campaign.

Turnaround time will try to be within a week depending on volume and complexity of the request. I work a full time job so only have time for this stuff after work and on weekends.

Check my tags for my OCs listed in the pinned post for examples. I'm not super good or using Otis and a bajillion tools and mods, hence why this is for charity!

Charity tiers

Each tier is per one OC. Donate to more than one charity and I'll bump you up in the queue!

If you donate in multiples of 18 I'll also bump you up in the queue cause like, you know, Jewish tzedakah tradition.

$10 - two portraits in one outfit and one action photo of your OC

$18 - same as the above plus one non-explicit shippy photo

$25- four portraits in two outfits, two action, one non-explicit shippy photo

$36 - four portraits in two outfits, three action, two non-explicit shippy photos

$50+ - whatever the hell you want within my skillset, priority turnaround, and my admiration and gratitude <3

Charities to support (again)

Palestinian Children's Relief Fund

World Central Kitchen

Red Crescent

Brazil Foundation

America Relief Agency for the Horn of Africa

Islamic Relief Worldwide

Ukrainian Red Cross

National Bailout #FreeBlackMamas

Jewish Women International

Some notes and rules

I use VTK vanilla so only fem v with default breast size (I'm lazy I'm sorry, again this is why I'm doing it for charity and not being paid directly). Specify if you use another complexion. I use Ava's with abs, no moles.

UV Male is fine. I use FrauBlume's skin.

No body rigs

Minimal customization mods please (recolors, more body or face meshes, and VTK or UV overlays are fine)

For shippy pics: only canon (lore not strictly game only) sexuality pairings: Judy x fem v, Kerry x fem or masc, Johnny x fem or masc, Panam x masc v, etc (I'm sorry it's just what I'm comfortable with, do not come here with discourse bc I do not care. This is for charity.)

All VP is final, no redos: I'll provide unedited versions and my own edits in a Google Drive folder. You're free to do whatever you want with them. Specify if you want them private, otherwise I will pick a few to share to continue promoting the charity drive/as a VP portfolio thing or whatever.

I have the right to deny any request I'm not comfortable with and I will provide alternative suggestions (e.g. outfits that cover customization options I can't do, more portrait or action photos if I can't do the shippy photos, NPC portraits, environment, etc)

What I need from you

1. Your CC values, preferably written down (Skin: 01, Eyes: 02 etc) but screenshots of the color palettes OR an NPV file OR an ACU preset file (please provide the written down CC values just in case ACU wants to crash)

2. If your OC has any signature colors or color themes they wear, as well as any other special requests such as "they dress practical" or "they are a total slut". Any additional personality info will be great too. You may specify clothing items/mods or leave it up to me for a surprise!

2. If you use arm cyberware

3. If your OC uses modded appearance items this will also increase turnaround time. Please provide either the files or link the mods and tell me what you use. *This may or may not work out depending on my own install. Have a mostly vanilla OC backup or other request available.*

3. If you want combat poses: any signature weapons they use (if they use iconics it may be a little while before I could get to combat poses depending on if it's masc or fem), how they fight (stealth, melee, run and gun, etc)

4. If you want non-explicit shippy poses: obv the NPC. Also only canon sexualities (no Judy x Masc V, Panam x Fem V, Kerry is bi so that's fine, obv side NPCs are fine their sexuality isn't quite established depending on who). These might have a longer turnaround time. If you use an NPC+ file link to the mod or provide the file.

[soleilceirinen]

Ciao, amore (Tom Ripley x fem!reader) - Plein soleil AU.

Summary: Tom tries to convince you to return to America.

A/N: Plein soleil is one of my favorite movies, although I like the book (The talented Mr. Ripley by Patricia Highsmith) this version is my favorite, perhaps because Tom is played by Alain Delon.

English is not my first language, sorry for any mistake and thanks for reading!

Warning: none besides typical sexist comments of the time (50s-60s).

MASTERLIST

Italy, 1959.

The soft summer breeze moved the white curtains as the sunset casted a golden glow to the room. It was exactly what you were waiting for. 

"Move your head a bit to the right, Tom," you said to the man sitting in your favorite armchair by the balcony. He obeyed but looked at you sideways. "Don't move."

He sighed, relaxing his shoulders. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the party tonight, Y/N?"

You shook your head, already focused on adding color to the canvas. 

Tom was one of the most gorgeous men you had ever seen, since the moment you saw him for the first time, you knew that you had to paint a portrait of him. If you were lucky enough, you could get a bit close to capture the exact blue of his eyes.

"I don't feel like going and pretend that I enjoy being there, answering their stupid questions and faking smiles. They don't even like me, they only want me for my father's money," you muttered as you added a bit of shadows to the painted version of Tom. "You could have gone with Marge and Dickie if you wanted, you can still catch them if you're fast."

"I thought you wanted to go, that's all," he said. You hummed in response. 

The both of you spent about an hour in silence until the sunset was gone and the golden light changed into darkness. 

"Are you going home for Christmas?" asked him, breaking the silence after a while. 

"You already know the answer to that, Tom. I don't want to argue again about this, alright?" 

"Alright, but you should think about it. Your family is worried about you, all alone and so far from home."

You frowned, taking the dirty brushes and starting to clean them with turpentine. The smell of it always made you feel a bit dizzy, so when they were clean enough, you headed to the balcony to get some fresh air. 

Tom followed you, positioned himself against your back, trapping you between his warm body and the balustrade. 

"Why don't you go back home yourself, ah?" you said bitterly, not expecting an answer.

He had nothing to come back, you knew that much. 

His insistence on coming back home was starting to bore you, mostly because you knew the truth. Your father, an utterly wealthy man wanted you to return to America and in order to do that, he had paid a huge amount of money to Tom to convince you. But there was no point. In Italy you were free.

"I will spend the winter traveling through Europe, learning from the great paint masters," you whispered dreamily. 

You had everything planned, starting with going to every Italian city to visit the monuments and museums, copying the greatest artists's artworks. You wanted to learn of the use of color from the venetians, the composition and the light. Your next stop was going to be Venice. 

Tom hummed and hugged you. He leaned his head on the crock of your neck and left a trail of soft kisses down your shoulder. You turned your head to the side to give him some more room. 

He was aware of his attractiveness, and he never doubted to use it in his favor. Your friend Marge always told you that she didn't trust him, that he was weird. You knew that he was sticking with you because he wanted a bounty but you didn’t mind. 

You were young, free and wanted to have fun, so as long as he kept you satisfied, you wouldn't care about his true intentions or his past. 

“I’m not going home, Tom, and this is the last time I’ll have this conversation with you or with anyone else. Am I being clear?”

He kept kissing you, cupping your breasts with his warm hands through the thin fabric of your dress. “It was just a suggestion, maybe you could think about it.”

Suddenly, you weren’t in the mood. With quick movements, you got rid of him and let yourself fall in the armchair with the skirt of your dress flowing gracefully around you. Tom stared at you, leaning against the balustrade. 

“I want to be an artist,” you said softly, playing with the hem of your dress. “And it is something that I can only achieve here. Coming back would mean getting married, giving up on all my dreams and becoming my mother, and that’s my worst nightmare.”

It was true. The moment you set foot in America again, your father would make you marry some stranger in order to increase your family wealthness, have children to inherit the fortune and live for the rest of your life as a housewife, as a trophy to show at parties. But you wanted to be your own self, an artist. 

Tom walked towards you and knelt in front of your legs, grabbing your hands in his bigger ones. “Marry me, then. We could go wherever you want, do whatever you want,” he finished kissing the back of your hand. 

You tried to hide your amusement with a pout. You liked Tom but you would never marry him. Your father would never allow it, you were the heiress of a great fortune and he had nothing, not that you minded but it would drive your father crazy. It was a good reason to do it though, just to annoy the old man, but you weren't stupid. Tom didn’t want to marry you out of love, he just wanted money. 

You caressed his chiseled cheekbones and leaned forward to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. 

“My father will choose the man I marry, and that man is not you, Tom.”

He frowned, trying to keep his face neutral but you knew that your comment had hurt him in a way that you could never understand. Tom let go of your hands and stood up, pacing around the room until he stopped in front of the canvas. 

“You know, Y/N, I’m your best option. With me you could do whatever you wanted, I already told you. By yourself you’d only be a woman. Nobody would take you seriously as an artist.” 

His cold words meant to cause you a similar pain than the one he felt moments earlier, but you counted on that. Whenever he felt hurt or humiliated he seemed to act like a wild animal. 

“I’ll use a pseudonym, a male one. That’s what we women do. We don’t need a man to be successful or independent, we are our own man.” 

Tom seemed to think about something, you could almost see the hinges inside his head turning. 

He was nothing more than a fortune hunter. Even when he tried to hide it under sweet whispers in the night, or soft caresses, the coldness was still there, it never felt real. Instead, wherever Tom was, it felt like he was playing a role. You hadn’t met the real Tom yet, and you doubted that you would ever do. 

For now, you could just play dumb and pretend that you were unaware of his true intentions. After all, you were young and most important, free. The new decade will come soon and you’ll try to enjoy your youth traveling around Europe and making memories with the people you would find in the way. 

Tom would stay by your side until one of you two got bored of the other. To him, you were just the goose that laid the golden eggs. To you, he was nothing more than a pair of blue eyes with some pretty things to say.

You sighed and stood up, walking to him and hugging his waist. “Let’s not fight, alright?”, he was staring at his portrait, with his jaw clenched. “Tom, if you are still in Italy by the end of next month we can go together to Venice. How does that sound?”

Slowly, you felt his muscles relax in your embrace. It could have been unnoticed but you saw him nod. “Venice sounds perfect.”

[shoko-komi]

The Komi Report - Communication 450

Komi is a day early!? This week in Komi Can't Communicate:

Broth is sampled...

...and dreams are dashed upon the stones.

Read It: Mangareader Mangakakalot Viz Media (North America Exclusive) Mangadex (English updates are dead, but there’s the backlog; and Spanish + Portuguese language updates)

I was caught completely by surprise this morning when I woke up and had a notification from the r/komi_san discord server (I exclusively use it for the new chapter notifications. All other notifications are muted and I never go in there because I value my sanity aklsdnlkasndlaksnd).

Now that tensions within the broth crew have been loosened they can get into the favourite pastime of friends everywhere - good-natured bickering.

Nanoda was so timid when she first appeared, so it's really nice to see her coming out of her shell.

I've only eaten good restaurant ramen once - other than that it's been 2 minute stuff - so I don't know what to make of this smelly-ramen vs unsmelly-ramen conflict. Where do you stand?

My girl is flopping so hard at this aksdlkansd.

I might have a hard time explaining this one, but; I love seeing Komi fail. She tried her best to settle the ramen dispute but doesn't know what to do and is sort of useless.

Part of it is I want her to learn that she doesn't need to be problem solver girl all the time, and her friends will like her and want her around even if she isn't "usefull". She's a leader among her peers but it's ridiculous to put everything on her own shoulders, and her peers can solve their own problems such as in the case of the broth. All Komi needs to do to be valuable is be there.

The other part of it is my sadism flaring up.

Really funny that she blames him here. A girl needs her tantrums

Only a brief glimpse of them..... Oda you tease me.....

Also add an entry to the list of left-handed Sukida appearances

My complements to tumblr user fareasterncurlew for this infographic which I think about every day

Classic Najimi gag

Miwa Omojiri my beloved, hello again. Also Tsubo is so me... I would be laughing so hard....

Such heart-breaking news after all their hard work. I love how the camaraderie of the class keeps them in good spirits!!! So many times I've been in a bad situation but I've felt alright because I could laugh about it with good company.

It brings a tear to my eye....

This is really funny but also!! Ogiya comforting Kori is super nice after them being recently at odds. Kori blended into the group so quickly after they figured him out.

The culture festival!!!! AAAAAA I'm excited

We've been shown this beautiful glimpse of what Hiki and the girls are up to. Aaaahh, maid cafes. Literally what would we do without them?

Oda I'm still waiting for a follow up to the Susumi/Hiki yuri...... and I want Yamai/Nakanaka band yuri.... and I want SukiYama yuri.... Oda give me yuri please I'm starved Oda I'm starved to death and dying fatally.......

I hope the culture festival is 50 chapters long and every character is featured and has a super funny joke and there's lots of yuri and wakai dies mysteriously between chapters and is never mentioned again and we find out the details of the Ase/Naruse kiss and Benujit Spopo appears and Tadano is force-femmed permanently and there's happiness, free, for everyone!!!!! And no one is left behind!!!!

Stay safe! I'll see you next week!

[doudouneverte]

Protect me, from me

a/n: I'm not really proud of the end but I really want to upload something this month, and sorry for the lack of content

*not my GIF*

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: One year after the event at Kamar Taj, Wanda lost her memories but somewhere in her mind the scarlet witch is ready to come back.

Type: a little angsty and fluff

Warning: taking place after MoM; me trying to write a panic attack

word count: 3704

----------

After all the mess she made with America, Wanda decided to close and destroy the Darkhold to protect everyone. She was there alone when everything started to fall on her, but when she was about to get hit by a stone, she woke up from a bad dream.

The Sokovian opened her eyes quickly, and she started to pant. She looked around to make sure everything was just a dream. She got relaxed when she saw you asleep beside her. She looked at her phone: 2a.m. She sighed and moved to the bathroom. While she was washing her face because of the sweat, she felt something strange, like a presence. She turned around but didn't see anyone. She looked at the mirror again, but she saw them, just behind her. A woman who looked like her; the same hair, the same eyes, and the same face, but the only difference was her expression; she seemed sad and angry at the same time.

Wanda started to panic when a red aura started to emerge from the woman, but when she was about to scream, you entered the room visibly tired. "Hey babe, are you okay?" you asked with a sleepy voice.

The ginger head looked at you, then at the mirror, where the woman had already disappeared, before she looked at you again. "Yeah, it's just that—I had to pee," she replied, and you nodded. "Did I wake you up?" she asked.

"No, it's just that I couldn't find you near me, and I missed you." You said, taking steps toward her until you were close enough to kiss her. She smiled and kissed you back. You always had this power over her; every time she felt bad or anxious, you were always the only one who could help her. "Are you stressed about the party tonight?" you asked when you felt her a little off.

She shook her head. "No, it's just that...you know me and the crowd," she tried to explain.

"We're not obligated to go if you don't want to."

"Y/n, it's your dad's birthday, of course we have to go."

"Yes, but I can always tell him you're sick, and we will see him another day."

"Thank you, honey, but don't worry; I'm fine, I promise." She kissed your forehead. "Now come to sleep; you have to work in a few hours," she reminded you, and you groaned.

This afternoon, Wanda was just back from a little trip to the grocery store. She took time for herself before you came back from work. She played with your dog, Marcus; he loved her, and since you two started dating, he can almost guess every time Wanda is about to have a panic attack. Your girlfriend was reading a book on the couch before she fell asleep.

She opened her eyes, and she was in a house, somewhere she didn't know. She looked around; she called your name, but you didn't reply. She started to worry but decided to check out. When she left the house, everything was weird; the world was in black and white like an old TV show; some people were dressed like back in the 50s, some like in the 60s, etc.; nothing seemed logical. The redhead wanted to escape and find you, but she ran into a woman. This woman wasn't dressed like other characters, and something was strange; despite the black and white atmosphere, her eyes were glowing blue.

"Wanda? Why do you do that, Wanda?" The mysterious woman asked, but your girlfriend didn't understand.

She couldn't reply before a tall man appeared beside her and said, Wanda, I finally found you." She looked at him confused, and she remarked that he didn't look like a human. She wanted to run, but the man grabbed her arm and asked, "Where are you going? The boys need to be fed, and I can't do this alone." Boys? Wanda wondered who's boys. 

"Excuse me, I think you're wrong. I don't know you," she replied, very anxious. She started to walk away, followed by the two strangers, when a voice called her—well,  not really her.

"This is her; it's the Scarlet Witch," a brunette woman said, pointing at Wanda. "It's you. You're the Scarlet Witch," she said, and she repeated it endlessly. Wanda started to feel panicked. She suddenly screamed and woke up. Everything seemed normal. Marcus was near her, visibly worried, and she patted him to let him know she was better now. She made her way to the kitchen to prepare herself a cup of tea, but she noticed something strange. Every piece of furniture in the room turned red. She rubbed her eyes to be sure she was still dreaming, but nothing changed.

She grabbed a mug and examined it before she heard the front. She came back to her senses and went to greet you, but when she was in front of you, the mug in her hand turned white again. "Hey babe, how was your day?" you asked, approaching her. You wanted to hug her, but you noticed what she had in her hand: "Wands, honey, are you alright?"

She turned her attention to you. "Yeah, it's just that I'm distracted." she replied. She didn't know why she didn't tell you the truth; maybe because she thought it was too unrealistic and you would never believe her. Honestly,  it's understandable. It's pretty weird to say to your girlfriend that you had a weird dream where someone called you a witch, and after that, when you woke up, all her kitchen furniture turned a bright red.

"If you don't feel good, we can cancel for tonight." You proposed, but she shook her head.

"No, don't worry. And honestly, I think it will be great to see your dad."

"Okay... I'll take a shower, and we can watch a movie if you want; we still have a lot of time before tonight."

"It's an excellent idea; I'll choose the movie and prepare the snack; go get a shower." She kissed you, and you made your way to your bedroom. The Sokovian took a deep breath and started to make her way to the kitchen again. Surprisingly, nothing weird happened again this afternoon, at least until you started to prepare for the party.

You left the bedroom just to check that everything was okay for Marcus. Wanda was alone in the bedroom. She opened the wardrobe and picked out a dress, but in front of the mirror, the dress turned into a scarlet one. Your girlfriend started to be scared; she threw the dress away and took another one, but the same thing happened.

After the fourth one, she just sat on the bed, and her breath started to be erratic. She knew that she was having a panic attack, but she couldn't do anything to stop it. Thankfully for her, you entered the room just as it started, and you noticed her on the bed. You didn't think twice before sitting beside her and taking her face between your hands.

"Hey Wands, babe, follow my breath...breathe in....and breathe out." You instructed her, but when she didn't follow you, you started to worry. You pushed your forehead against hers and waited until she noticed your presence. "Hey honey, can you hear me?" you asked, and she nodded. "Okay, I need you to follow my breath; can you please do that for me?" You waited until she gave physics replies to continue, "Great, breathe in...breathe out." You instructed again, and when she did, you repeated it until she came back to her senses.

"I'm sorry," Wanda said, and you frowned your eyebrows.

"What are you apologizing for?"

"Because you're tired because of the week, and I won't help you by having a panic attack now."

"Hey, look at me." You raised her head and made her look at you. "It's not your fault, okay?  You don't have to be sorry for something you can't control." You reassured her, but she started to cry.

"I know, but it's been a year now, and I can't help but feel like a burden for you. I know you have to work hard for the company, and I still can't remember everything about before we met," she said, and you hugged her.

"Hey, it's okay; doctor Martins said it will take some time." You reminded her.

"Yes, but it's been ONE YEAR!" she snapped, getting away from your touch. "My memories should be back now, but instead of that, I just get fucking bad dreams and anxiety." You didn't say anything; you knew she needed it. "I–I don't know what to do." She sat on the bed, and some tears started to fall from her eyes.

You approached her carefully and sat next to her. When she didn't say anything, you pulled her close to you and ran a hand through her hair.

"I feel like I haven't made any progress." She sobbed, "Sometimes I'm wondering why you're still with someone useless like me." another sob.

You shushed her and still tried to calm her. "You're not useless. Yes, your memories take some time to come back, but like the doctor said, you can't rush things." You reminded her, and you gently cupped her cheeks before leaving a lot of kisses on her face. "And if I'm still with someone incredible like you, it is because I love you." You said, and she smiled.

"Thank you." She whispered.

"Always."

"Do you think we still have time to arrive at time?"

"Definitely not, but I know my dad doesn't mind." You said, standing up, "Are you sure you want to go?" You asked her, and she nodded. "Ok great."

"But... can you pick a nice dress for me, please?" She asked shyly, definitely not ready to repeat what happened earlier. You thought a little about it before agreeing.

The ride to the party was relaxing for Wanda; you spent the time talking about any little things that happened to you at work. It was distracting her from her thoughts. At the party, everyone was happy to finally see the both of you. With your girlfriend's hand in yours, you made your way to your dad and mom, who were relieved to know you could come.

"Happy birthday, dad!" You greeted him excitedly, and he matched your enthusiasm by giving you a crushing hug before giving another one to the Sokovian.

"Happy birthday, Mr. Y/l/n. We bought you something; I know you said you didn't want anything, but I really insisted." Wanda said, and your dad smiled and accepted her present.

"You really didn't have to." He replied, he wanted to talk more with her, but some coworkers came and brought him and you to see some potential new investors, leaving Wanda alone with your mom.

"Even at his birthday party, they talked about work." Your mom sighed, visibly angry, making your girlfriend laughed.

"You know how they are." She commented.

"Yes unfortunately." Your mom took a moment to make sure you were okay before she spoke again. "And I also know that you don't really like crowded places. So do you want to come with me on the rooftop?" She proposed, and the brunette accepted.

They talked for a moment before your mom had to take a call, leaving the Sokovian alone with her thoughts and a beautiful view of the city. She decided to come back to the party when her phone rang. She examined the number, but it didn't remind her of anything. With a nervous feeling, she picked up.

"Hello?" She asked nervously, and she waited a moment until someone replied.

"Oh sorry, hello. Wanda Maximoff, right?" The woman replied.

"Yes… and you are?"

"My name's Maria Hill. I worked for the SHIELD; I heard about what happened to you, and it took me a long time to find you." The woman called Maria declared.

"And how do you know me?" 

"I…well we worked together in the past."

"Were you an Avengers?"

"No, but I worked with them too."

"Okay, and how can I help you?"

"To be honest, I'll help you."

"Sorry?"

"I learned what happened to you about your amnesia, and I can help you." Wanda didn't hear the end of her sentence when you walked on the rooftop. "Wanda, are you here?"

"Uh, I'll call you back." She said before hanging out.

"Hey babe, are you okay?" You asked a little concerned when you heard her rush to end the phone call.

"Yes, of course."

"Sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry." She kissed your forehead "so why are you here?"

"It's time for the cake." You announced.

"Already?" 

"Yeah, come on." You grabbed her hand and dragged her into the elevator. While you were joining the party, you didn't stop to be touchy with the Sokovian, some caresses, compliments, and a lot of kisses.

Back at home later that night, you were both tired and ready for bed. Wanda felt an anger growing deep in her mind after the call with this Maria, but she didn't know why. Fortunately for her, this feeling was quickly forgotten when she started to fall asleep on top of you.

---------

In an apartment not so far from your home, a strange group was finishing some details for their operation.

"Are you sure about that? I mean, she doesn't seem dangerous; maybe we can let her live her life for now." Kate proposed.

"She doesn't remember being the Scarlet Witch; if we wait more and her memories come back, her powers will too, and it'll be too late." Maria explained.

"Okay, she's finally back, but she's not alone." Doctor Strange said coming back from wherever he was.

"Don't worry, we planned that." The older brunette said.

"Great, but I have a question." The sorcerer said, and the agent nodded to let him know that she was listening. "Why do we have to bring those two?" He asked pointed Kate and Yelena. 

"Because the world still needs heroes, and after our losses, they were the only ones available." She explained.

"Not me. I'm here because Kate Bishop is still reckless." The Russian said.

"And who's the person with Wanda?" The archer asked.

The ancient agent tapped something on her iPad before she showed it to them. "Y/n Y/l/n. The daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Y/l/n. She's the future CEO of Y/l/n Corp." She introduced you.

Yelena examined your profile a moment before Strange spoke "Why don't we know her birthday?" He asked.

"She got adopted when she was little, but we don't really know anything about that or her biological parents." 

"That's because they're dead." The blonde said, gaining everyone's attention. "Y/n is from the red room; she never knew her parents; they both get mysteriously killed a few weeks after her birth. Dreykov sent an old widow to bring her to the red room." She explained.

"But what is she doing here?" Kate asked.

"When she was ten, she was sent on a mission with a group of older widows, but only two of them came back, and Y/n wasn't with them. She was the only person I could call my friend in this place. The widow told Dreykov that she was killed in the mission, but when I grew up, she revealed to me that she and the other widow found her a new place far from our nightmare. Dreykov decided to trust them because she wasn't one of the best."

There was a little silence; everybody was processing what the blonde said.

"Wow." Kate finally broke the atmosphere: "But wait, you didn't try to find her when you learned that she wasn't dead?"

"I tried, but the widows who helped her disappear were pretty good at erasing all their traces."

"Sorry to break this moment, but we need to go now." Maria said, and the girls nodded before following her out of the apartment.

--------

Wanda was sleeping, peacefully dreaming about a future with you, when a voice appeared out of nowhere. 'Wake up. Wake up, they are here.' the voice repeated. At first, it was low, but with time, the voice became louder, and she finally woke up from her dream.

She took a moment to look around her and make sure you were still sleeping, then she heard voices from outside of the house. They were whispering something, but she couldn't understand what they said. She made her way to the front door and looked through the pipe hole. She saw three shapes moving and stopping in front of the door. Something told her that they were not alone, and she took some steps back. When she did, she felt like someone was observing her from the roof.

Marcus sensed Wanda starting to be stressed and barked to gain her attention; at that, the women on the other side of the door stopped themselves. When the dog barked again, the Sokovian quickly tried to silence him.

"Hey little boy, stop. You don't want to wake up, mama, do you?" She asked, and being the good boy he was, Marcus stopped, but at this moment the previous anger that had been growing before she slept came back. The ginger head stood up in front of the door, and she didn't know how or why, she moved her hand, and a red aura started to form around the doorknob before the door opened alone.

Maria didn't have the time to process what happened before she got thrown away by a red fireball. The two other women looked at the scene, obviously surprised, before the widow got caught by Wanda's magic and got attracted to her.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" She asked Yelena after she pinned her against the nearest wall.

"Hey Wanda, let her go!" Kate tried to act firm, but the witch just chuckled.

"And who are you supposed to be?" She wanted to attack her, but her movement was restrained by some good magic ropes.

"Listen to me, Wanda; we're not here to harm you. We're just here to help you and bring you somewhere where some qualified people can help you." Strange said, appearing from the roof.

"You! I recognize you; you're—" She hadn't finished her sentence before you appeared from your bedroom with a gun pointed at the sorcerer.

"Get out of my house!" You yelled, and everybody looked at you.

"Y/n?" You looked at the one who called you; she seemed familiar, but you couldn't remember her name. "It's me; it's Yelena." She declared. You lowered your gun, clearly shocked.

"Yelena? But what are you doing here?" You asked.

"It's a funny story, but before that, I need you to tell her to let me go, please."

You made your way to Wanda with your gun still pointed at Strange. "Hey Wands, honey, you can let her go; she'd not hurt you, I promise." You said.

"I know, but I can't. I can't control this—" she suddenly felt on the ground with her hands around her head, screaming from pain.

You kneeled down beside her and tried to pull her into your arms, but a little scarlet barrier appeared around her body. All her memories, from Hydra to the incident at Kamar Taj, came back to her. She felt visibly tired on the ground.

While she was unconscious, you talked with the group, and they told you why they were here. They received orders to bring her to DC, where she would be put somewhere to make sure nothing like Kamar Taj happened again.

"I can't let you do that." You protested.

"Y/n, listen to me—" Maria tried to say but you cut her off.

"No, you'll listen to me. I found her last year when she was alone, she lost her memories and her hopes. I spent a lot of time trying to break her walls, I spent a lot of nights awake because she couldn't sleep. I was there for her when she needed someone. I falled for her okay, and you want me to give up everything because you want to imprison her again?" You scoffed "sorry but I think you need to leave." You stood up and walked to the front door to open it.

They all left, but not before Yelena gave you a last hug.

A few days later, Wanda didn't wake up from this night. It's started to worry you. This day, you just came back from work like always, and you made your way to the bedroom when you saw her, on her feet but with a strange outfit.

"Wanda?" Hearing her name, your girlfriend turned her attention to you, and before she could say anything, you were catching her between your arms. This feeling was very peaceful, but she pushed you away. "Babe?"

"I remember everything." She said, and you smiled.

"That's great, my love."

"No, it's not great." You frowned your eyebrows "I'm a monster, Y/n. I killed those people. I killed everyone." She said and started crying. You took some steps toward her and wrapped your arms around her waist.

"My love, look at me." You said firmly, but still carefully. It took a few seconds, but she did. "Tell me what happened."

After a few hours, Wand finished telling you everything about her and her past.

"Listen, you know who I am. I was straight with you even before we started dating. I also did a lot of things I'm not proud of, but look, things have changed since. I have a family, a great dog," you kissed her tenderly, "and a marvelous girlfriend. I don't care about your past; I wasn't there when all those things happened. But I'm here now, and trust me when I say that I'll still love you and be here for you." You gave her another kiss. "I love everything about you, Wanda Maximoff, even the flaws."

Now she was crying in your arms. She didn't notice, but she gained control over her powers, and her clothes changed to her usual ones.

"What did I do to deserve someone like you?" She asked through her sobs. "I love you."

"I know my love."

[stangeranfanficion]

Omg a tf2 oc?!?

Because of the recent TF2 oc polls. I wanted to introduce the oc I had for quite a bit.

Meet Mathilda Vogel! Mad Veterinarian of Medic's past.

Info under the cut!

If you want her website here it is also!

Name: Mathilda Vogel (previously Herrmann)

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/her

Age: late 40s-early 50s

Universe: Team Fortress 2

Career: Veterinarian and part-time mad scientist

Family: Medic/Ludwig Herrmann (Ex co-worker and Ex husband), Muschi (Pet cat)

Personality: On the outside she appears cold and stern but gets a lot more wild and free when she's happy / doing her “personal projects”. Usually has poor people skills with appearing standoffish. When she's happy, she gets really frenzied and excited, info dumping all about herself and her “pets”. She loves animals and cares for them deeply. She even helped install a device in Medic’s doves, so they could survive greater blood lost. The greatest flaws for her is having trouble finding her own self-worth and mainly needing to be more open to others. She's also very, very petty.

Background: Moving from Germany from when she was a late teen, Mathilda always had a fascination with the world of nature around her. Owning many animals in her lifetime and spending her free time at zoos, she seemed to always surround herself with animals more than her fellow human. Because of this, she seemed more distance from others, causing her to delve into her studies even more. Medic and Mathilda both met at a collage overseas, with them both connecting over their personal projects and their share interests over the macabre. Over time, they grew closer and closer, with her getting him a steady supply of animal organs and him getting her new tools and organs from the human body to study. Once collage finished up, both of them got married and settled down in the countryside in England. Both happy with stealing birds from a prime minister and adopting a wild cat. People called them inseparable until Medic left for America for the Gravel Wars.

Design inspirations: Mainly her main ideas come from Medic due to being closely related to Medic. Though, her outside design ideas are museum collections on nature/animals. Mainly muted colors are used for her. Ideally, oranges and off whites. Very autumn and fall vibes. Aesthetic ideas can be found here⇾ (TW DEAD ANIMALS, no gore but taxidermy and bones) click here!

Outfit design: She doesn’t have a base outfit design. More so switching outfits on the occasion than really sticking to one. Main themes in outfits are mainly overcoats and under the knee dresses. She not really the type for pants, so she's mainly changes into shorter dresses when she's at home. Also note, while it isn’t needed, she more so works better with a hat in her hair than without one. Outfit design ideas can be found here ⇾ click here!

*note the second design on top is a older design from when she was a fem fortress but not really oc. Thats outfit is more so saved for ideas like that.

Playlist?: Here! ⇾ Click Here! Its not really what she listens to but more so what I think about when I write her.

Where is she from?: She is from my fanfiction called Zoophobia! Link is clickable to take you to the fanfic!

I don't really expect her to win, but i hope people get to know who she is. :)

[violettavonviolet]

Marvel Podfic Fic Recs

hey guys, as promised, here are my podfic rec's, now divided by fandom bc there were unexpectedly many.

These fics are all great on their own, but I also really enjoyed the podfic version. You'll note that I really like some people's podfics, so there are quite a few recs from them.

the length goes up as you scroll, all are finished and def show the podficcer and the author some love!

 [podfic] in another country (people die)

pprfaith, reena_jenkins

Summary:

"“The world is not your playground, Stark!” Fury yells at him one time, after he maybe brings down a building or two and Tony just laughs because, seriously, yes it is."

20 minutes frostiron

[podfic] heart made of iron (still bleeds)

LadyCrimsonAndBlack, reena_jenkins

Summary:

Toni Stark is fighting the entire world head-on. So far, she's winning.

(Or, Toni is a girl. It makes her even more dangerous.)

35 minutes, fem!Tony

[podfic] Taste the Rainbow

pprfaith, reena_jenkins

Summary:

In which Toni doesn't believe in soulmates, thanks a lot. It's bullshit.

35 minutes, Frostiron

Follow in Your Footsteps [Podfic]

paraka

Summary:

When Tony is twelve, his soulmate's name appears on his wrist. Unfortunately, it's hard to find out anything at all about Steve Rogers.

It turns out there's a reason for that.

50 minutes, Stony

[Podfic] When I Think (Oh, It Terrifies Me)

RsCreighton

Summary:

Look, some mornings you wake up and little green men are invading New York City; some mornings you wake up and you can hear Captain America's voice in your head. Tony has been an Avenger long enough that he saves his freakout for important things.

1 hour, Stony

like Running Water Slipping Through My Fingers

IndigoNight, Mallvitamins, reena_jenkins

Summary:

In the end, they don't find the Winter Soldier. They find Bucky Barnes, knocking on a door in Brooklyn and wondering why his Ma won't let him inside.

4 hours 40 minutes, stuckony 

Loki and Toni’s Excellent Adventure in World Saving

pprfaith, reena_jenkins

Summary:

In which Loki and Toni try to save the world, Steve is obnoxious, Clint has no patience for artsy movies and there are cupcakes. And issues.

6 hours, frostiron

[podfic] The Act of Creation Will Be Your Salvation

reena_jenkins, scifigrl47

Summary:

"When Tony Stark was seventeen years old, he built his first AI. On that day, he ceased to be his father's creation, and became a creating force in his own right.

That one act likely saved his life, and not always in the most obvious ways."

10 hours 30 minutes, Stony

[taeswolfie]

𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 : 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏

☽︎𝑽𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒔☾︎

Ch.16 - Ch.18

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

Word count: 3.8k

In class Y/n and Scott stare at the surprise return student. Stiles runs in and takes his seat behind Scott in a frenzy. Y/n kept her gaze forward while Scott turned to Stiles as he started to talk. "Guys, I just talked to my dad, who just talked to Jackson, and I got really terrible, horrible, very, very bad news."

"I think we already know." Scott gestures to the seat in front of Y/n where there is seated a very smug looking Isaac.

After class Stiles informs them what he found about the kanima. "All right, I only found one thing online called the Kanima. It's a werejaguar from South America that goes after murderers."

"That thing was not a jaguar."

"Yeah, and I'm not exactly a murderer."

"Yeah, but you did see it kill somebody, which is probably why it tried to kill you. And it's still trying to kill you, and it probably won't stop until you're dead."

Stiles pauses as he stares at Scott. "You know, sometimes I really begin to question this 'friendship'." Stiles makes quote marks in the air and Y/n chuckles as she pulls him along.

"I also looked through my grimoire." She said when they caught up to Scott. "I didn't find much and what I did find was pretty much everything Derek said. When you get the Bite the shape you take reflects who you are, if it doesn't kill you first. I had an ancestor who knew someone who turned into a kanima. They said that the Kanima shape was most likely derived, partially if not all, from the person's self image. Something like identity issues? They weren't very clear."

"Why can't it ever be 'this is this and this is how you take care of it'?" She just shrugged as they entered their next class together, this time the boys sitting next to each other with Y/n behind Stiles.

Jackson came in a minute later and sat behind Scott. "Hey, dick, and testicles left and right." He calls the three. "What the hell is a kanima?" The question is enough to make all three turn to him in shock. But they can't say anything more as Coach gets the class' attention.

"All right, listen up. Quick warning before we begin our review. Some of you, like McCall, might want to start their own study groups, because tomorrow's midterm is so profoundly difficult..." He chuckles a bit. "I'm not even too sure I could pass it. Okay, I need a volunteer at the board to answer the first question. Who's got it, huh?" A few hands go up, including Lydia. He waves someone up. "Let's go, buddy."

Jackson had quickly told them about his recent encounter with Derek and what he heard in the hall just before class. "Paralyzed from the neck down. Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

"I'm familiar with the sensation." Stiles says.

"Wait..." Scott speaks up. "Why would Derek test you? Why would he think that it's you?"

"How should I know?"

"Wait, do they think it's Lydia?" Stiles asked.

"I don't know, all I heard was her name and something about Chemistry."

"Jackson!" Coach yells as he's now standing near the group. "Do you have something you want to share with the rest of the class?"

"Um..." He glances around. "Just an undying admiration for my- my Coach."

Coach smiles a bit. "That's really kind of you." Jackson gives a small 'modest' smile. "Now shut up! Shut it! Anybody else?" When no one else speaks he goes back up to the front of the class.

Scott then leans towards his friends. "How do we know it's not her?"

"Because I looked into the eyes of that thing, okay? And what I saw was pure evil."

"Then it's definitely not her." Y/n shakes her head. "Lydia's eyes are 50% evil, 60 on bad days, 40 on good."

"Y/n, that's not a very good argument."

"I'm aware of that, but it's not her. Whatever is happening it's not because of her." She looked down at her notebook then, shutting out any more argument about Lydia being the kanima. When she looked back up to maybe listen to what Coach was saying she found she was no longer in the classroom.

Y/n sits at her desk in the middle of the woods. Fog hugs the trees, diffusing any light that may have touched her. She slowly stood up from the seat and looked around. There was no one in sight. When she turned back the desk was gone and a trail of wolfsbane was left in its place. She followed it through the woods towards a house. The Hale house. It was quiet. She walked in and looked to her left. Her eyes widened in surprise with what she saw. She saw herself standing in the middle of the room, arm outstretched with a clenched fist, red trickling between her fingers and down the side of her hand as she squeezed blood onto the floor. The blood soaked into the wood leaving no trace behind and the other Y/n looked up at her with glowing eyes and a smirk.

"Y/n!" Someone whisper shouted at her and she shot her head up with a startled gasp. Stiles had been calling her name with no answer until right then. He looked at her with furrowed brows. "Are you okay?"

"Um... Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." She brushed off. He didn't seem convinced.

Before he could say anything his eyes darted down to her notebook. "What's that?"

She looked down to see she had written something in another language. Mihi prohibere. She quickly shut her notebook with a snap. "It's nothing." She dismissed. But it wasn't actually nothing. It was Latin, it said 'stop me'.

"Lydia~" Coach calling her in a sing song caught everyone's attention. Lydia opened her eyes with a gasp as tears stained her cheeks. She was visibly shaken by something as she looked around with stuttering gasps. Coach looked at the board behind her. "Okay then, anybody else want to try answering? This time in English?" The class laughs and Lydia turns in confusion only to see she had written something seemingly in a foreign language several times.

"What is that, Greek?" Scott wondered.

"No, actually, I think it is English." Stiles had taken a picture of the board and reversed it to show them, but Y/n already knew what it said.

"'Someone help me'." She muttered, but they heard her. She looked at Lydia in worry.

"Derek is not gonna kill her without proof." The three walk into Chemistry, Scott assuring Y/n about Lydia.

"Not if I have anything to say about it." She huffed.

"All right, so he tests her like he did Jackson, right? But when and where?" Stiles wonders.

They look at Lydia flipping through a book at a station and then at the door where Isaac and Erica had just walked in. "I think here and now." Scott said. The five look at each other, glancing at Lydia for a moment until they all rush forward, each heading for Lydia. Scott sits next to Lydia on one side and Stiles pulls up a chair on her other. Y/n sits at the table next to Stiles while the Betas sit behind Lydia and Scott. Allison sits across from Scott and looks at him in question and he gestures to the two behind him.

"Einstein once said, 'two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe'." Mr. Harris starts off the class walking down an aisle. "I myself have encountered infinite stupidity." He claps Stiles on the shoulder at that. "So to combat the plague of ignorance in my class, you're going to combine efforts through a round of group experiments. Let's see if two heads are indeed better than one. Or in Mr. Stilinski's case, less than one. Erica, you take the first station. You'll start with-" All the guys (bar Scott, Stiles and Isaac) and a couple girls hold up their hands. "I didn't ask for volunteers. Put your hormonal little hands down. Start with Mr. McCall." He finished. Erica smiled amusedly at Scott and glanced at Allison. "All right, next two."

Y/n was sat next to someone she didn't know for the first round of the experiment and she had to watch Erica 'flirt' with Scott in the seat in front of her to try and get to Allison. Allison was sitting next to Lydia although when Mr. Harris rang his bell it was time to switch. She warned Lydia to not talk to Isaac or Erica before she had to move. Next Scott was with Lydia and Y/n had the great pleasure of being saddled with Isaac. She gave him a glance and he smirked at her. She rolled her eyes at him and turned to the appointed task.

"I'm only gonna tell you this once, pup. You touch even one hair on my ginger princess's head, I will burn your little werewolf ass to a crisp and turn your ashes into a crystal that I'll give to her as a birthday present."

He laughs. "Really?"

"It's a promise."

"I've never actually been to one of her big, invite-only birthday parties." He muses. "I did ask her out once though."

"I've heard this story before so I'm gonna pass."

"It was the first day of freshman year."

"Thought everything would be different for you in high school, but she said no." She feigned sadness.

He chuckled. "Yeah. Yeah, she even laughed. Told me to come back when the bike I rode to school had an engine, not a chain."

"Yeah, she's got a thing for motorcycles. You got turned down. Suck it up. It's not the only time you'll ever be said no to by anyone. Maybe you should learn to channel that negative energy into something productive, like writing."

"Nah, I was thinking I'd channel it into killing her. I'm not very good at writing." He looks at her and she glares daggers at him.

Mr. Harris rings his bell again. "And switch." Y/n was sat with someone else she didn't know and Scott and Stiles ended up together while Allison got put with Erica. Isaac slid into a seat next to Lydia and when Stiles tried to get up Mr. Harris slammed a stick in front of him making him sit back down with a jump. "If you're trying to test my patience, Mr. Stilinski, I guarantee it'll be a failing grade." He warns and goes back to his desk.

More time passes and Y/n is tense as she finishes. Mr. Harris rings the bell one last time. "Time. If you catalyzed the reaction correctly, you should now be looking at a crystal." Y/n looked and there was indeed a crystal. When she looked at Scott and Stiles they had some sort of beige sludge. Isaac picked up the crystal with tongs as he and Lydia admired it. "Now for the part of that last experiment I'm sure you'll all enjoy... You can eat it."

Y/n, Scott, and Stiles glanced at each other as they looked at the questionable thing in front of the boys. There was no way they could eat that. She thought. But then she and Scott looked at Lydia to see her taking the crystal Isaac offered. They could see a clear liquid dripping off of it. Kanima venom. She put it to her tongue. "Lydia!" Scott jumped up and everyone turned to look at him.

"What?" She asked.

"... Nothing." He sat back down. She turned away and took a bite of the crystal. They waited and… She was perfectly fine. The kanima venom had no effect on her. Scott looked out the window to see Derek had seen everything.

...

Scott, Allison, Stiles and Y/n walk into Coach's office and close the door to discuss what to do next. "Derek's outside waiting for Lydia." Scott points out.

"Waiting to kill her?" Allison asks.

"If he thinks she's the kanima, then yes, especially after what happened at the pool."

"It's not her." Y/n insists. "I was with her before that thing came out."

"Y/n, she didn't pass the test. Nothing happened."

"It's a stupid fucking test!" She throws her arms up. "She has some type of immunity to the supernatural. I don't know how yet but she does."

"It doesn't matter because Derek thinks it's her." Allison says. "So either we can convince him that he's wrong, or we've got to figure out a way to protect her."

"Well, I really don't think he's gonna do anything here, not at school." Scott says.

"What about after school?" Scott sighs. "Okay, well..." Allison sighs as well. "What if we can prove that Derek's wrong?"

"By 3:00?" Stiles asks.

"There could be something in the bestiary."

"Oh, you mean the 900-page book written in Archaic Latin that none of us can read? Good luck with that."

Allison thinks for a moment. "Actually, I think I know someone who can translate it."

"Uh, I can talk to Derek, maybe convince him to give us a chance to prove it's not her." Scott offers. "But if anything happens, you guys let me and Y/n handle it, okay?"

"What does that mean?" Allison asked him.

"It means you can't heal like we do. I just don't want you getting hurt."

Allison gives him a look and digs in her bag, pulling out a small crossbow. "I can protect myself."

"Again, that's why you're my friend." Y/n praises her and she smiles back.

Scott still looks worried and she puts down the weapon. "What? Did something else happen?"

"I just don't want you getting hurt. Seriously, if anything goes wrong, you call me, okay? I- I don't care if your dad finds out. Call, text, scream, yell, whatever. I'll hear you and I'll find you as fast as I can." Allison gives him a tiny nod. "We have until 3:00." She nods more this time. He turns and walks to the door when a whistle of an arrow sounds, quickly turning back and catching the small arrow that nearly went into his head.

Y/n sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. Allison turns and holds her hand out to Stiles. "Uh..." He hands her back the crossbow he had been examining curiously. "Sorry. It's a sensitive trigger on that."

Y/n and Stiles went with Lydia to the library to keep an eye on her while Allison went to the school counselor to see if she could try and translate the kanima pages. Scott went to talk with Derek on the field. Boyd was there with him. As Scott talked to Derek Erica and Isaac were heading for Lydia. Scott was hoping he could change Derek's mind, but he wasn't counting on it. Erica and Isaac go to the library only to find no Lydia. Y/n, Stiles, Allison, and Jackson were walking with Lydia down the halls, taking her to Scott's house under the pretense of a study group.

"If we're doing a study group, why didn't we just stay in the library?" She asked.

"Because we're meeting up with somebody else." Stiles answered.

"Hmm, well, why don't they just meet us in the library?"

"Oh, that would've been a great idea! Too late now."

"Okay, hold on-"

Y/n put an arm over her shoulders. "Scott's a strange guy, you know this. He works better in more comfortable settings like his home." Lydia huffs, but doesn't argue any further. Stiles drives his Jeep with Y/n in the passenger, the other three managing to fit in the back.

When they get to Scott's house Lydia had more questions. "If we're studying at Scott's house, then where's Scott?"

"He'll be here. Just running an errand I think."

"Thanks." Allison muttered to Jackson in helping escort Lydia out of school.

"I needed to talk to her anyway."

When they get inside Stiles locks the handle, deadbolt, and the chain on the door. Lydia gives him a questioning look. "Uh, there's been a few break-ins around the neighborhood." And then he put a chair under the handle for good measure. Another questioning look. "And a murder! Yeah, it was bad." Y/n pats him on the arm while Allison gestures for Jackson to take Lydia upstairs.

"Lydia, follow me. I need to talk to you for a minute."

She sighs. "Seriously? What is going on with everyone?" She mutters before she follows him. While they go upstairs, Stiles and Allison keep watch out the front while Y/n sits on the steps, ready to jump up and go wherever to protect her friends.

Y/n had her head in her hands, fingers raking through her hair as she waited. The sun starts to set. She picks her head up suddenly. "They're here." Allison and Stiles look at her and then out the window. Sure enough, Derek and his Betas are standing across the street from the McCall house.

Allison dials Scott on Stiles' phone. "It's me."

"What's wrong?"

"You need to get here now. Right now."

"Okay, I'm leaving now. On my way."

More time passes and they keep checking to see where the werewolves are. Allison looks at her phone and taps a couple buttons. "What are you doing?" Stiles asks.

"I think... I think I have to call my dad."

"No, but if he finds you here-"

"You and Scott-" Y/n continues until Allison cuts them off.

"I know. But what are we supposed to do? They're not here to scare us, okay? They're here to kill Lydia."

Y/n gets up and stands next to her friend, putting a comforting hand on her arm. "Allison, I'm not gonna let anyone hurt her, okay? We'll be fine." Allison sighs and puts her phone away. Y/n then hears Lydia cry a bit, that alone enough to make her brow draw together, but she frowned when she felt a spark of something. Something other. But it was only for a moment and then it was gone.

"I got an idea. Just shoot one of 'em." Stiles whispers to Allison.

"Are you serious?" She whispers back.

"We told Scott we could protect ourselves, so let's do it. Or at least give it a shot, right?"

"Okay."

"Stiles, you guys don't need to prove anything." Y/n also whispers. "Just shooting them now could actually have negative consequences."

"Look, they don't think we're gonna fight, so if one of them gets hit, I guarantee they'll take off."

"I doubt it."

"It's worth a try. Just shoot one of 'em."

Allison peeks out the window. "Which one?"

"Uh... Derek. Yeah, shoot him, preferably in the head."

"If Scott was able to catch an arrow, Derek definitely can."

"Okay, uh, just shoot one of the other three then."

"You mean two."

"No, he means three." Y/n and Stiles look through a window to see only Isaac missing.

"Where the hell is Isaac?" He wonders. The three back up, Allison holding her bow up to the door.

Y/n senses him a moment too late. She turns just as Isaac grabs her by the neck and tosses her back towards the steps. He then disarms and knocks Allison aside. Next he smacks Stiles aside. His eyes glow and fangs show as he stares down at Stiles and then he lunges with a growl. Y/n winced as she pushed herself up. For the moment Stiles and Allison were holding their own against Isaac. Y/n raced up the stairs to check on Lydia. She found her just as she turned the corner.

"Lydia, get back." She said quietly. "Someone is trying to get in, okay? Just go hide in Scott's bathroom. I'll come for you when it's safe. Go. Lydia, go." She said more firmly and Lydia finally listened, running back into Scott's room where she noticed Jackson was missing. But the noises downstairs prompted her to go to the bathroom and hide as instructed, calling the police as she did. Y/n ran back down to take care of Isaac. She scooped up Allison's crossbow and pushed it into her hands. "Go watch Lydia." Allison nodded and did as instructed. Y/n used her magic to give her an extra boost as she grabbed Isaac and threw him back from Stiles. Isaac quickly got back up and growled at her. "That doesn't scare me."

Allison closed the door behind her and noticed the open window with venom on the sill. "Guys, it's here!" She called for them to hear. Erica kicked down the door and Allison pointed the bow at her, the laser pointing at the blonde's chest.

She scoffs. "Hmm... This might make me sound like kind of a bitch, but I've always wondered what it feels like to steal someone's boyfriend. I bet it's a pretty sick rush of power. I think I might try it with Scott." She chuckles. "You know what... I don't think it's gonna be that hard. Because why would he be waiting around to steal ten minutes with you when he can have me anytime he wants?" Allison shoots her arrow and Erica catches it as swiftly as Scott did.

She laughs. "You didn't really think that would work, did you?"

"Actually, I did." Erica looks down at her hand and finds that Allison had coated the arrow with kanima venom. Allison smirks as Erica shouts and falls onto her stomach, completely paralyzed. She steps over and crouches to hover her face over the blonde's. She moves a bit of Erica's hair back. "I thought you were psychic... Bitch." She smiles and leaves Erica.

Derek and Boyd watch from outside, hearing furniture shifting and growling coming from inside. Derek smirks until the door opens and his Betas are tossed on the grass in front of him, knocked out and unable to move. He sighs and looks up when Scott steps onto his porch, Y/n, Allison, and Stiles with him. "I think I'm finally getting why you keep refusing me, Scott." Derek says. "You're not an Omega. You're already an Alpha of your own pack." He smiles. "But you know you can't beat me."

"Wanna test that?" Y/n glares, only backing down when Scott looks at her, silently telling her that he's got it.

"I can hold you off until the cops get here." Sirens are heard just after as the police draw near. Then hissing and scurrying footsteps are heard catching everyone's attention. The four run off the porch to see the kanima on the roof. It screeches at them and runs off.

"Lydia." Y/n runs into the house for her friend.

Derek glances down to the teens at his feet. "Get them out of here." Derek instructs Boyd. But then everyone looks back towards the door as Y/n brings out a very upset looking Lydia.

"Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" Lydia sounds even more upset.

Scott looks towards where the kanima ran off. There was only one person left unaccounted for. "It's Jackson."

Ch.18