#Hack Proof Your Life

[familythings]

If Your PIN is on This List, Change It Immediately! - Tips how to Create a Strong PIN

Have you ever thought about how difficult it is for thieves to guess your card’s PIN? If you haven’t, recent research sheds light on the most common combinations that could make your PIN much easier to guess. Conducted by Nick Barry from Data Genetics, this study reveals that the most frequently used PIN in the world remains “1234.” However, there are other popular combinations that you might not…

[sophiethewitch1]

i dont know what a slowburn is <3 <3 <3

[felixcosm]

The number one most important tip I've learned as a sex worker and one I wish every single artist will take to heart is

always. ALWAYS. get your FULL payment UPFRONT. don't trust they will deliver after you put in the work.

Most payment providers do not protect against chargebacks. Neither do giftcards.

As soon as you get paid, move it into your bank account.

It doesn't matter how much you trust the person, if they've bought from you before or if they say they'll spend 'so much money on you', it's always better to be safe than sorry.

Promises mean nothing if there isn't money to back up a claim, anyway. I automatically don't trust people who claim they have so much money to spend on me if they don't immediately prove it (and keep proving it) because anyone can talk big game online, especially if they want something from you.

[antonyshelton]

Build the Future of Gaming with Crypto Casino Development Solutions

[midday-clouds]

Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》 II

Part I Part III Part IV

Thank you so much for the love for the first one! 💞 There are so many ways I can imagine how this story can go and it's hard to pick one or try merging all the ideas. Nonetheless, I hope this meets your expectations!

CW: Stalking, Breaking and entering, Violence(Being stabbed, beating up a thief), Blood, (Menstion of past) Kidnapping

You had officially moved into your apartment in Bludhaven

Everything has moved so quickly and now you can finally relax

You gave up connecting with your family, got kidnapped, died, came back to life and moved out

It may be a bit much to pick the farthest college from the manor but you’re clearly unwanted there

Your family has neglected you and didn't do anything when you were kidnapped, so you have every right to be as far away from them as possible

It was honestly quite lucky that you were already accepted into a college in Bludhaven during your senior year. If you had applied after your kidnapping, the chances of you getting in would have been low.

But you’re here now and can finally feel happy. Well, if you don't count some of the nightmares you get from when you “died”.

Sometimes you do wonder how you survived that gunshot. Were you not hit somewhere vital? But then, where was the hole?

A part of you was curious and wanted to replicate the injury but that would be painful. You surviving the gunshot also could have been a one-time thing

You never ended up going to the police or the hospital because what were they going to do? You don’t have any proof that it even happened because your injury is gone, the blood left at the abandoned building is likely dried up and doesn’t look fresh, and Bruce probably threw away the ransom letter. 

The only proof you have that it even happened is your memories and you telling your friends. But the police or doctors would just look at you and say “You look fine now, no need to look into the situation anymore.” 

But enough about that though, you’ve got a few more hours before it gets dark and you want to get to know about the area.

It is still the middle of summer so your college classes haven't started yet. You could have waited until class started to move but you wanted to be out before Alfred returned from his vacation.

Alfred was the closest thing to family in the manor. But he and Bruce have never felt like safe adults to share your problems with. 

He should be back from his vacation now, has he found out about your kidnapping or did Bruce cover it up? He probably did to avoid getting news out. You should probably look into how you can change your surname.

Just as you finish your thoughts about the manor, you use your laptop to find interesting places in the area before heading out the door with directions in a notebook

Bruce and the rest of the family may know where you are currently, but bringing you back home was the hard part. Alfred had to convince Bruce that if he wanted you back, he shouldn’t just barge in all of a sudden. 

You’ve been hurt by the family's actions and won't return without a fight. 

But even then, Bruce has to see you. The entire family needs to see you with their own eyes at least once.

With this in mind, the whole family decides to take a small road trip to Bludhaven. They’d find you and figure out the best way to approach you without scaring you off. 

It was almost sundown when the family got to Bludhaven. They change into their vigilante gear so it’d be easier to hide in the shadows

Tim loads up the tracker on your phone and leads the way. It seems the tracker you have isn't the best because once the family gets close to your apartment, your phone just says your laptop is nearby instead of its exact location. 

No problem though, Tim can easily hack into the computer system for the apartment and find which room is yours.

Once your room is found, the family takes a peek inside. You’re nowhere to be found, which is a little worrying.

The locks on your windows are broken as the family opens them and sneaks inside. Your living room and kitchen are littered with boxes but that’s it. They each take a look around to find you but come out empty-handed. If you were here, they may do exactly what Alfred discouraged and just take you home. However, because you aren’t home, the only other place you could be is outside. Where it’s dark out and you’re alone.

Worried for your safety, the family immediately goes on another search for your

Because you could be anywhere, the family decides to split up to find you

You look around as you walk back to your apartment, a few small bags of food and snacks in your hands. Because it’s getting dark, you do begin to pick up the pace. You’re so focused on not getting home that you don’t notice when a person peeks over at you from a rooftop.

You’re just about to pass a convenience store when someone runs out and knocks into you. The person curses as they quickly get up and reach for their bag of stolen goods. Filled with adrenaline, the thief takes out a knife and stabs you. They were aiming to kill you so there weren’t any witnesses but ended up putting the knife in your shoulder. As the thief makes a run for it, a certain vigilante quickly blocks their path

Nightwing goes full force on the thief. How dare they hurt his baby bird. He refuses to make the same mistake of leaving you alone and hurt.

Your heart is racing as you attempt to pull the knife out of your shoulder. Your eyelids feel weak but you refuse to fall asleep. Unlike before, you aren’t restrained and can still escape.

You pull the knife out and let it fall on the ground next to you. After a few breaths, you do your best to stand up. You take a small glance at Nightwing before quickly running back to your apartment. 

Once inside, you almost collapse on the floor but try to get your first aid kit.

Your bandaging may not be that good but the best but it’s enough for you to feel comfortable sleeping for the night

Nightwing got a few swings in before he heard the sound of something falling onto the ground

He looks up to see that you've pulled the knife out of you and about to stand up

Before Nightwing could help you, his opponent throws a punch while he was distracted.

The vigilante shifts his attention to the thief when you suddenly make an escape. Night wing attempts to call out to you but it appears you didn't notice.

He sighs as he handcuffs the thief. This guy was such a hassle that Nightwing almost forgot why he was in such a hurry to wrap up the whole situation

The vigilante turns to where you were but only finds a bloodied knife and the bags you left behind. He carefully picks up the bags and knife while he considers where you have gone.

Spotting a trail of blood, Nightwing quickly follows it, contacting the rest of the family as well

The family gathers at the same spot near your apartment and finds you sleeping in your bed. Wanting to help you, Nightwing comes up with an idea

You lay on your bed, waiting for sleep to consume you when a knock comes from your door. You try to ignore it but the knocking continues. The only thing that gets you up is the realization that the knocking is too loud to be from your door. Opening your eyes, you realize that someone is at your window. 

Getting up, you pick up your pepper spray as you slowly walk towards the window. You have your curtains closed so you try to peek past them to see who is there

Who you see is Nightwing and it gets you worried. Does he think you were involved with that other person? He must have seen that the thief stabbed you at least

Not wanting to make the vigilant wait, you open your window slightly. Only enough so you can hear what Nightwing has to say

Nightwing happily greets you and shows you the bag of items that you left behind when leaving the scene.

Surprised, you thank Nightwing and open the window. Making sure to not open the window more than necessary, just enough to collect the bags

Just as you reach for it, the vigilante points out your bandaged shoulder. He goes on to say the importance of properly handling injuries and offers to rebandage your arm.

It takes you a couple of moments before you agree to his help.

Like a big brother, he sits you down and redoes the bandages. Honestly, it makes you wish your actual big brothers would care for you in this way. Even though one of them is right in front of you

Once your shoulder has properly been bandaged, you thank Nightwing for his help. He offers to stay the night but you tell him that you’d be fine. Plus, doesn’t he still have to take care of Bludhaven

You make sure to close and lock your window once Nightwing leaves before going back to bed.  As sleep consumes you, your whole family watches from a distance. You didn’t seem to recognize Dick as Nightwing so it may be possible to get you to trust them before taking you home

[kbagraces]

Let it Happen - LN4

Lando Norris x singer!gf

summary: dating rumours always followed the pair but despite both of their status’ they liked to keep their private life private… until a certain someone’s private instagram gets hacked

a teensy eensy bit based on Let it Happen by Gracie Abrhams

not proof read as always!

Mornings like this were true bliss for you both. Both your lives were faced paced, loud and demanding, though you wouldn’t change it for the world, you craved the serenity of silence sometimes.

His face was pressed deeply into your crisp white pillows, soft snores leaving his slightly parted lips. The screams of fans and demanding nature of your job felt so far out of touch in these moments.

The covers stopped at the base of his torso his toned back on show, adorned with loving scratches from your antics the night before. You hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks due to him finishing his last race before the summer break began and you being chained to the studio finishing up your final touches to your second album.

Your fingers traced the loving marks upon his back, softly so he wouldn’t be disturbed, God knows he needed the rest. You noticed his face twitch to which you retracted your hand, hoping you hadn’t woken him.

Unfortunately you had.

He opened on of his eyes to look at you before mumbling, “why did you stop?” His voice deep and strained as he was still half asleep.

“I didn’t want to wake you.” You smiled at him, he turned over on his side his body now facing you, his arm reaching to your waist before pulling you into him your face slotting into his neck as he rested his chin atop of your head.

“I was waking up already, my love. It’s so freaking bright in here.”

You smiled at his comment, he always complained about the sheerness of your curtains, the sun almost always being the thing that caused the two of you to be drawn out of your slumber.

“The sun brings me good energy I’m not changing them.”

“We’ll have to compromise when we get our own place” his chest vibrated as he spoke. You were slightly taken aback. You were so head over heels in love with Lando but you hadn’t ever spoken about moving in together. Granted you assumed it would happen one day but you hadn’t spoken about such thing yet.

“Don’t freak out.” He said pulling away from you slightly, to look you in the eyes now. He knew you too well. He knew about your past and how you’d jumped into relationships before, moving too quick, getting caught up in fantasies that only left you hurt and alone.

You were closed off when Lando met you, God did he have to put the work in to prove he wasn’t going to mess you around like the boys before. But that was the difference between him and them, they were boys, he was a man.

“I’m not freaking out.”

“You’re freaking out.” He chuckled, as the wideness of your eyes contradicted the calmness of your tone.

“It’s going to happen. We won’t rush but it’s you and me forever now. Whenever you’re ready of course but don’t fight it, let it happen.” His hands stroked your fallen piece of hair from your eyes to behind your ear, his hand cupped your faces pulling you in, a gentle comforting kiss upon your lips.

He almost felt your dismay leave your body as you became less tense as a result of his touch. Your body always betrayed you, he just had a way of making everything seem okay.

Your life was stressful but Lando made every noise and distraction quiet with the simplest of touches and the kindest words.

Your domestic bliss was interrupted by the shriek of your phone, your alarm blaring notifying you it was time to get back to reality.

“What are you going to do whilst I’m at the studio?” You queried as you stood at the foot of the bed, pulling on your favourite pair of jeans.

“Absolutely nothing.” He smirked as he finally sat up in your bed. It was his first full day off from work. His phone was finally allowed to be on Do Not Disturb, he had two weeks of silence before he had to get back to training.

You hummed in response, you wish with everything you could just lounge around with him all day, but unfortunately your life couldn’t stop just because he was back. You had an album to finish.

“Can I swing by later?” He was really testing the waters today. Your relationship was sacred and you did all you could to keep it out of the public eye.

There was whispers here and there, but they went as quickly as they came. Your biggest blip was when you attended the Miami Grand Prix this year.

You two were doing so well, to the outside world you just seemed like any other celebrity attending the race for sponsorship deals and relevancy as the rumours of your sophomore album were hitting the news as you were practically living in the studio.

All was fine until Lando crossed the finish line, winning his first ever race in F1. You let him celebrate with his team initially, knowing if you got too close you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from telling him how immensely proud of him you were.

But your composure went out the window the second you saw him on the top step. You were stood in the crowd below, tears pooling in your eyes, you were in awe of him and that’s when the picture was snapped.

It circulated for a while, lasting longer than the whispers of before. But like any thing in the modern age, it got overtaken but some bigger news about the latest affair in Hollywood.

“Please y/n. I just want to see you doing what you’re best at.” He begged, you appreciated his support, you were convinced he was your biggest fan.

“Maybe another day Lan. Not yet, I’m sorry.” You saw his face waver, he wouldn’t pressure you, but his disappointment was far from hidden, it was clear.

“I’m sorry.” You offered, “another day I promise.”

You kissed goodbye and set on your way leaving your boyfriend to ponder about your LA apartment.

———

You were sat on the studio floor, cross legged. Your notepad before you, lyrics written messily across the pages. Words written, erased and rewritten, you just couldn’t get the thoughts from your head to paper. You were getting increasingly frustrated with, this song. You had the initial idea and it had to be perfect, it was the final song of the album and it had to be perfect.

“Y/n go home, you’re going to drive yourself crazy.” Your producer sighed to you, he believed the album was perfect the way it was. It was so ready to be released he was unsure why this idea you had couldn’t wait for another project.

You raised your hand at him, mumbling some words, jotting them down and erasing them once again.

“Argh!” You were close to tears as you threw your pen across the room. Why couldn’t you just get the words out.

“Y/n! Home!” Your producer demanded, you were getting nowhere, you both know it. A broken pen he could deal with but at this point he feared you’d start going for his equipment.

You sulked the whole way home, the words in your head needed to be sung, they just couldn’t flow like the usually do.

Lando was perched on the couch as you skulked through the front door. He noticed the slouch in your shoulders and the frown etched on your face.

“What’s wrong?” He sat forward on the edge of the sofa, his legs apart. You sat on the floor beneath him, your head fell onto his lap as you sighed.

“I can’t get this done. I’m so close. I’m so desperate to get this final song perfect that it’s anything but perfect I can’t do it, I can’t do it.” You repeated, tears welling in your eyes. “I don’t want to cry this is so silly. But I need it to be perfect.”

He bent down kissing your forehead, before lifting your chin off his thigh to look up at him, your eyes glazed over, lips slightly wobbling.

“You don’t have to be strong here my love. Let it happen.”

——

Lando arose to the sound of your phone ringing. You still passed out on his chest your eyes still puffy from the outpour of emotion and stress you had been bottling up.

He picked up your phone, curious to see who was ringing at the crack of dawn.

Lillian (PR) 11 missed calls…

Oh.

The phone rang in his hand again, he slid from beneath you, you needed to rest. Perhaps it was a good thing Lillian was ringing about. He walked into the hallway, closing your bedroom door behind him before swiping to answer the phone.

“Y/N thank God!”

“Sorry it’s Lando, she’s still sleeping.” Your PR team was obviously aware of your relationship, they were the first people you told when you decided to keep the relationship under wraps.

“Actually you might be better to break the news to her,” her tone serious, concerned.

“Her instagram has been hacked,”

That’s not too bad Lando thought.

“Her private instagram, the photos of the two of you are plastered all over the internet. We’re attempting to do damage control but with the magnitude of both your fan bases it’s almost impossible. Ordinarily a relationship leak is not something to be too concerned about, but we know her views on it, we fear it’ll delay her progress.”

Lando wanted to bite back, their concern not being for your well-being as it should but for the delay of the album which will be the funding for their lives this year.

“Ok I’ll tell her, just do what you can.”

With that he hung up, unlocking your phone to check what had really been leaked.

There was photos of your first date, photos of you in the McLaren paddock, photos of the two of you at your sisters wedding almost everything you had every captured of your journey together was on the instagram, there was no escaping this. You couldn’t even deny it was Lando. It was there in colour for the world to see.

He checked the comments on some of the reposts,

username1: wait they are actually so cute together

username2: who is he though? not good enough for y/n

username3: she’s not as pretty without make up…

username4: omg new parents! mum & dad is that u?!?!

The responses mixed, the sound of your door opening pulled him from his scrolling.

You laughed blissfully ignorant at the sight, Lando stood randomly in your hallway, snooping through your phone.

“What are you doing out here? Having a snoop? Making sure I haven’t got 20 other boys on the go.” You laughed at yourself, one he didn’t reciprocate.

“Lan?”

“Don’t freak out.”

“Every time you say that I freak out, you’re already freaking me out!”

He turned the phone towards you, your private moments with him on display the world.

“No, no, no”

“It’s okay, my love it’s fine. The reaction is pretty good, Lillian called the team is working on it, but I’m afraid they’re out there now. But maybe it’s a good thing, we can be us without hiding?”

“It’s not about hiding Lan! It’s about protecting.” You shouted, you weren’t shouting at him, he knew that, you were shouting out of frustration.

“Come here.” He exclaimed reaching his hands out for you to take, when you didn’t move he grabbed them from the intense grip on your phone, sliding the device into his pocket and bringing your empty hands together between his.

He planted a loving kiss on your hands, “I promise you, this will all die down and we can be us again, we can still be private, it’ll still be ours.”

Your eyes filled of doubt, you wanted nothing more than to believe him, but as soon as your previous relationship became public they crashed an burned, each for different reasons but there was a theme to your previous break ups.

“Hey.” He snapped you out of your thoughts once more, a skill only he had. “It’s not going to happen again. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve told you, you’re my future. It’s us two forever whether it’s just between us or us and the whole world. You have to trust me, I love you. Sometimes you just have to let things happen.”

———

yourusername:

the ones you haven’t seen…

My brand new single “Let it Happen” will be releasing in two weeks. A little taster of my sophomore album, “The Secret of Us” !!

@landonorris just for you i let it happen ❤️

[kalims]

⭒ㅤnot gonna lie !

premise. pov prefect opens a ngl, except! the story they shared it from can only be viewed... by one person!

characters. first years

ace

not gonna lie ! smash tbh

unironically pretends that he never sent one when you start bombarding him.

uniquewhere: i didn't even see ur story

shrimp: [attatchment]

uniquewhere: i have no wifi to see that sorry not sorry

vehement denial is actually the most effective defense according to him. even if it bypasses all forms of realism, it's not real if he doesn't believe it to be! <- real life advice from ace trappola guys.

if you haven’t already guessed, he can indeed see the picture you just sent and just assumes his very first form of defense… no amount of proof will remove him from his little ball of: “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

you gotta prepare some kind of miscrosoft presentation, and sit him down. though he will 100% do that thing where he plugs his ears in with his fingers pretending he doesn’t hear anything even though it doesn’t block out you reading out the words.

“here is the real, actual screenshot of my replies—”

“I NEVER EVEN SAW YOUR STORY.”

“ah, good! next slide after this is the views of the story!”

deuce

not gonna lie ! i like you

very demure, very straight to the point is deuce.

he would've written some long ass paragraph in all honesty but he just can't because he sees what he writes, deletes it, then cringes to himself.

atleast with that one he has the excuse for whichever scenario that might randomly ask about it.. (yes, he's thinking that far) weird flex but ok

1. "you ever confessed to your crush?" someone asking

2. "yeah sorta....." deuce

3. "???" someone confused

he was feeling reaaallyyy proud of himself. the anxiousness finally settles down, alongside with his rapidly beating heart. even if it isn't a real, confession it still brings him a bit of peace.

shrimp: I know what you did

tokyodefenders: WHAT?

there goes his heart rate.

like, you did not offer context to any of that but he's still gonna think you somehow, actually do know even if you didn't provide an explanation to... whatever it is you know about him!

tokyodefenders: whaTEVER IT IS IS NKT TRUE

shrimp: please, ur breaking my heart

shrimp: I like u too :(

heart? ascended

he's not even gonna question it. all his braincells got dumped out, and all he can focus on is that particular message. he isn't even gonna remember backtracking about the ngl cause he's gonna be like:

how did they hack my keyboard.. are they tracking it?! LOL

"I'm a mastermind,"

"HOW DID YOU KNOW?!?!" <- deuce, scared for his life.

jack

not gonna lie ! stop getting into trouble. I'm not always there to pull you out

is concerned with how many times you've managed to unknowingly walk into trouble, jack had been lucky enough (yes, him. not you, cause knowing you, you wouldn't be too phased) to be a near constant presence when the shenanigans during the tournament concluded, he stuck to you then.

as in reluctantly following around you like a tail. narrowing his eyes at the less than friendly faces often wore around you, that you were... well, amazingly oblivious to. or maybe you acted like you didn't know, the carriage didn't pick you up for nothing if you were here in nrc.

shrimp: do u rlly think I'm a troublemaker?

iheldheroncejacob: yes

the random topic being brought up went completely over his head. jack probably had forgotten he'd given the link to your story the time of your day, in all honesty

shrimp: well maybe I keep getting in trouble so u can rush in, and pull me out?

iheldheroncejacob: you're a terrible friend then

shrimp: :(

in retrospect jack is able to keep up with joking around, usually. but it's so hard to take you seriously that he takes whatever you say with a grain of salt, you're almost always tipping between flat sarcasm, or calm nonchalance between your words. it almost always has something to do with the people you're with.

the heartslabyul prefect for example, you take a kind, subtle undertone of teasing to (which is crazy, because you're scarily tame in the presence of the vice-dorm head.) and then you're all stony faced when you're with someone you don't like.

^ and you obviously don't dislike jack, if the little selfish, presumptuous nrc part of him would like to claim confidently so... would you really be joking?

only does jack realize the connection between your text, and the ask he sent when he's just finished his laps.

"I'm not your guard dog! why would you even get in trouble for that, next time I'm not even gonna spare you the time cause—"

"what a pee brain."

"what? don't compare my brain to a tiny pee—"

epel

not gonna lie ! CAN I PLS TRANSFER TO RAMSHACKLE AHHHH

you've never met anyone who's disliked being sorted into whatever the dark mirror fitted their 'soul' into as much as epel.

even without the private story only limited to his response, you're sure you could pick out his message and put a face to it.

epel, in his defense, still has savanaclaw as number one in his heart. though upon asking jack if it was possible to transfer there, the latter confirmed but it was... a tedious process, and suggested asking rook, who literally came from savanaclaw!

the boy only spared his friend a side glance before scurrying away. no use traipsing around that...

but of course, getting away from pomefiore is only a goal! always being near your proximity was a biiiiig bonus!

shrimp: hey I need ur files for the dorm transfer

catchwhathands: [escapeplan.jpg]

catchwhathands: I knew u wanted me in ur dorm!!

shrimp: actually I don't. ur the one that asked ;)

catchwhathands: who cares. I'm finally getting out of this hell YEAHHHH!!

shrimp: who said I was gonna use the files you sent?

okay, admittedly the moment he'd sent over the files, epel shut his phone, and quite literally did a victory lap around his room. making sure to frolic so vil has less chances of hearing his chaos...

the dorm leader woke up so easily from noises that you'd think rook was the reason he developed such a habit.

probably.

epel was already planning the plan! he could see the vision! maybe he could plant around ramshackle since it is a pretty big area. you guys would be together for the remainder of the year—and he'd finally bump the adeuce duo from their pedestal!

*ping*

"AGHHHHH STUPID FRIGGIN'—"

"epel!"

"sorry..."

sebek

not gonna lie ! since it is a request for unbridled honesty, I shall deliver what you've requested. you have done so without much thought, clearly! if you've given such leeway for... criticism! you, human, could use a lot more educating in terms of the glory of our eternal lord, the glorious malleus! in accordance to your previous, description of our relationship. the farthest I can give is acquaintance, but I shall only call you a companion (AKA friend) if you are atleast educated about my interests! as the good companion you desire to be!

woo, alright. he really wrote all that...

oh, uh oh.. you just got another ask from him, maybe even longer..?

shrimp: what would that make silver then

rizzvolt: my brother in arms!

shrimp: but hey, actually I do want to know

rizzvolt: ah! finally! I knew you atleast have some common decency, and sense. for that I shall agree for your request in our friendship! these are the most accurate ones pertaining the great lord malleus' biography! [link] [link] [link]

rizzvolt: is that enough? I will send you more, but only if you finish these three. I will test you rigorously to confirm that you are indeed genuine in your interest!

why he has all that, you have no idea.. if only he displayed that much dedication for his studies...

shrimp: I don't wanna learn about malleus

shrimp: I want to learn about you

rizzley: how dare you! the lord's name should only be addressed with a: 'lord', 'the great', 'the

...

sebek stares at his screen, just in the process of finishing his... educating sentence, because even in text, malleus should only be treated with the highest form of respect!

have you no integrity?! he wonders.

only then does he focus on your response, does he make a rather... dubious sound of shock? sebek doesn't know why he breaks into a cold sweat as he runs the sentence through his mind a hundred times in the span of a minute.

what is this... some sort of human illness? or maybe love—

of course he'd never even consider such a thing! (just did bro)

shrimp: sooo.. since you sent me an ask, does that mean you actually like me?

shrimp: sebeeeeekk.. did you actually read?

with the speed of lightning (and the adrenaline maybe, what else could this frantic pounding of his chest explain besides that you are indeed, dangerous!) he opens the story on your media

'send me an ask if you like meeee :)'

sebek promptly falls over.

[awwitschuu]

cw: rough sex after an argument, brat taming, bratty! fem!reader, maybe ooc zayne, mentions of spanking, not really proof read thoroughly. i was hacked idk this is straight up smut…. @zehrbear <3

thinking about being fucked by zayne after a heated argument, his papers and notes scattered on the floor along with your panties and his black tie and slacks. it’s been non stop with you today, distracting him at work, picking unnecessary fights, and the worst offense being eating his parfait in front of him. he’s fucking had enough.

he has you bent over the desk, pretty fucked out face pushed against the cool surface while he pounds into you mercilessly. he’s tired of your fucking mouth, sassing him non stop and being catty. if you’re gonna talk the least you can do is moan his name, and that you do.

oh f-fuck! zayne! z-zayne please! s’too much- oooo!!

the grip he has on your doughy hips is lethal, fingers sinking into your skin as his hips collide with your ass. it’s embarrassing how wet you are, slick coating the length of his dick as it pushes in and out of your greedy pussy. and fuck you’re tight too, warm soft walls squeezing him tight every time he lands a smack on your ass. you can feel him so deep it makes your mind numb, you can’t help but inch away any chance you get. unfortunately for you though he’s not letting that shit slide, pulling you closer to him as he fucks you deeper.

mm no, angel. don’t run from it now, what happened to that fight you had earlier? don’t tell me you can’t take it?

his thrusts become thunderous and the desk you’re being fucked against bangs against the wall, loud thuds in rhythm with your cries and his strokes. you swear you’re gonna cum, all you can think about is zayne’s dick hitting that spot over and over and it’s making you go crazy!! your cunt flutters around him and you grab onto the desk for dear life as you try to ground yourself, your thighs uncontrollably shaking from your orgasm.

you’re such a fucking mess after too, pretty lashes wet and mascara smeared and runny, your cunt leaking a mix his and your cum down your thighs. you just wanna catch your breath and regroup…. that is until zayne turns you around and lifts you up so that you’re sat on the desk he just fucked you against. he grabs your chin and shoves his tongue in your mouth and a sloppy kiss, and you can’t help but whine against his lips. he hooks his arms under the backs of your legs and lets his throbbing cock rub against your puffy cunt, the tip bumping against your clit hungrily.

since you have so much to say, say it to my face, yeah?

he continues rubbing in between your sticky cunt as he taunts you, it’s so twisted how he’s taking joy in the fact that you can’t even speak or form a thought. only worried about having your greedy cunt filled full and getting what you want. it’s not long before he slides his dick into you again, eyes never breaking contact with your teary ones as he fucks into you slowly, each stroke hitting deeper and deeper until he quickens his pace again.

nothing to say now, right?

[bluetimeombre]

🀥 𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮

He's not your Logan, but you wish he was.

[I have so many Logan drafts I have to publish, oh no…. While I’m working on p2 of the Hugh Jackman and Ladypool I made this. It’s my first real attempt at smut and I cringed so bad.]

Warnings: death, grief, smut, dirty talk, language, oral (f! Receiving) penetration sex, not proof read

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The events of Logan:

When you'd seen Logan running through the field, soaking up more bullets than sweat, you knew it was going to be tough to save him. You knew it might even have been impossible but god you were going to fucking try. Even if he didn't want you to.

You'd gone with the kids, with Laura to keep them safe, but you hadn't thought you'd have to keep Logan safe to.

And you tried to. You tried so hard with your limited strength and ability, but it wasn't enough, not when you and Laura watched as his clone threw him into a fall tree, the other end poking out his bloody chest.

You screamed. You think you screamed. The only thing you knew for sure was that you took the adamantium bullet and shot it through the clone's head.

'Logan,' you stood over him. He was staring up at you, pale and watching your every move. 'No.'

Laura was at his other side and behind him. She started to hack away at the tree, until Logan groaned and slowly slid to the ground.

You grabbed him, gently settling him down as Laura joined your side. 'No, please.' You grabbed his hand and held it tight enough for them both.

His fingers gripped yours with the only strength he had left as his eyes cast to the girl. She was crying, tears down her cheeks as she whimpered. She looked down at his wounds, almost as if she was trying to find a way out. Even your hands were already soaking up his blood. 'Don't be what they made you,' he whispered. 'Laura... Laura.'

She sniffed and watched his lips slowly move to say her name. 'Daddy...'

His breath was short and shallow but even then he managed a small smile. His fingers around your hand became weaker as his eyes lifted to look you over. His smile remained and his eyes that had been filled with such pain and exhaustion filled with... love. They looked over you as if taking in every last detail. 'Look... look after our daughter.'

You cried, sobbing, holding his hand to your chest so he could feel the heart that only beat for him. 'I- I love you.'

His eyes softened, his lips forming words you could barely hear. His hold on your hand ended. 'Ah, so... so this is what it feels like.'

The smile on Logan's face fell and his eyes would stare at you forever. He was gone. The love of your life. Your best friend. Everything. Dead. It was over like that. His life span of years over in the snap of a finger.

'Logan?' you cried, brushing your fingers through his short grey hair.

Laura cried. 'No. No. Daddy?'

You fell back on your heels, hanging your head as tears hit the earth under you. The weight of their grief was enough to shake the earth.

Laura's small hand crawled up to claim the one that wasn't desperately clinging onto Logan's. She tucked herself into your side, her head resting on your chest. Finally, you brought your head up and rested it atop hers, your tears soaking her hair.

'Look after our daughter,' and you would. With your whole life.

The events of Deadpool and Wolverine:

'Who-who brought us here, anyway?' asked Deadpool.

'That would be us.'

Everyone turned, including Logan, as a girl- a young woman really, walked out from the shadows. There was another behind her, but they lingered back, staying closer to the dark and leaning on the doorframe.

Laura made herself visible to them all, stopping in front of Deadpool. 'Don't make us regret it.'

'Holy shit,' he said. 'Logan that's her, that's X-23.'

Logan watched the girl for a moment as he took a gulp of the bottle. The girl's eyes assessed him back, as if she had some of her own judgement. He didn't have anything to say to her- he didn't know her. But Logan caught whiff of someone else, a scent so familiar to him but having only been kept with him in a dream.

'Wait, who's that?' Deadpool looked to the figure.

Laura looked back, smiling at her.

Logan almost dropped the bottle as you walked down. You hadn't aged a day. You were just the same as the last day he'd seen you, that day he'd walked away and lost everything. It was your body he found last, surrounded by the children you had been protecting. Your ring, the ring he had given you, bloody.

'Y/N!' Deadpool gasped. 'No way! Holy shit! I didn't think you'd gotten any of my calls. Can I just say- woah. Logan, look who it is!' he boasted.

Logan was still looking at you. You didn't think he could ever look away, but neither could you. You weren't each other's, but you looked it.

'Oh yea, there's some tension here,' said Deadpool. 'How did you even end up here?'

'Our universes were dying and the TVA knew we wouldn't be going quietly, so they sent us here,' you said, walking down the last steps and busing yourself around the room, anything not to look at that Wolverine that wasn't yours.

But you glanced at him, you told yourself just once and he was still looking at you. Looking between you and Laura. Your Logan's last words replayed in your head. 'Look after our daughter.' and you had. Though it hadn't gotten you anywhere. Only to the void.

'The answer is yes, I'm in,' said Deadpool.

'In what?' asked Blade.

'The team. Me- you. You- me, all of us. All of us together, getting the hell out of this place.'

'Don't listen to him, he's a fucking lair!' Logan snapped.

'It was an educated wish!' he corrected.

'Ha!' Logan barked, taking a drink of the whiskey. He caught your eyes and thought better of it. He thought of the times the two of you would sneak to the kitchen to get a beer when you first met each other, how- once the two of you stayed in the same room- he'd never leave your side, even for a drink. Instead, he'd hold you tighter and just watch.

Deadpool, somehow, talked you all into a team up. You thought that's what was happening, frankly, you were distracted watching Logan.

'Hey,' Laura approached you quietly while everyone else spoke. 'You ok?'

'Yeah, yeah, i'm fine,' you assure her, brushing her hair back. 'You?'

Laura glanced back to him. 'I don't know yet.'

'Oh, Johnny must have loved you. X-23, what's it gonna be?' Asked Deadpool.

'The name's Laura,' she corrected him, looking from you to the room. 'Let's fucking go.'

'Let's fucking go.'

'You're all fucking dead,' said Loga.

'My god, read the room.

That night, before your big takedown, Logan took to sitting around the fire.

You and Laura watched for a good ten minutes, trying to come to terms with the father, the lover, you both lost.

'He looks just like him,' said Laura.

'I know,' you agreed. 'But it's not him.'

She looked up to you. 'What if, it could be?'

You didn't want to think of it or believe it. The only thing keeping you from him was the memory of your Logan's blood over yourself. 'It can't,' you told her. For a moment, the both of you continued watching, until Laura walked away from you. Toward him. 'Laura, Laura!'

He must have heard you calling as he glanced over to see her. 'No, no, no, i'm not looking for company, get outta here, kid.'

'You remind me of him,' she said, settling on the other end of the log. 'Angry, drunk, mean-'

'Sounds like a great guy,'

'I wasn't finished,' she said.

You were close enough to hear and you chuckled, watching the two. She was no more than ten the last time they saw each other, she could barley speak to him with all her words in English. It was their first chance to speak.

'He showed up when it mattered the most, couldn't help it. You might not know it, but you're a good man, Logan,' she told him.

'You might not know it but apparently i'm the worst Logan,' he said.

You lowered your head, holding onto the tree.

'I got to have a life because of you. And Y/N. But I got to grow up, because of you. A lot of kids did.'

Logan looked into the fire. 'A lot of kids didn't grow up because of me,' he was thinking about it again. Your body, the kids bodies around you. The blood. The ring. 'Trust me kid, i'm no hero.'

'That suit says different.'

He hummed and looked down at it. 'Scott used to beg me to wear it. So did Jean, Storm, Beast. All of them. Y/N. Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn't. Told them they all look fuckin' ridiculous. I couldn't have them thinking I wanted to be there. Kept saying i'd leave, I only stuck around for Y/N,' he watched the fire. You watched him. 'Then one day I did. I left and the human's decided to go mutant hunting.'

'I can guess the rest,' said Laura.

Logan shook his head. 'No, no, let me say it- I- I need to say it. By the time i'd stumbled home shit-faced from the bar it was too late. They were dead- they were... and the suits all I got to remind me of who they were. What I did.' He took a gulp of his bottle and tried to forget.

You turned from them, thinking of how he lost you in his universe and how you lost him in yours. Both of you couldn't do anything to save it. Perhaps, you were destined never to live happily. You let him and Laura say their farewells in peace before she walked by you, offering you a small side hug.

'Is it your turn, bub?' Logan called to you. 'You gonna give me a speech?'

Cautiously, you stepped closer until you could see the tears in his eyes and the sweat on his brows. 'You never really listened to the speeches.'

He scoffed as you sat where Laura had, if not a bit closer. You couldn't help it. 'And you were never really the sort to give them,' he said, looking to you. His face froze when he caught sight of you. You wondered if he was thinking how similar you looked to her, because all you could think was how close he looked to him. 'You're not my, Y/N.'

'And you're not my Logan.'

You sat in silence for what could have been hours before Logan offered you the bottle. You took it and gulped down more than you should've. You coughed, practically shoving it back to his hands. 'God, I never knew how you drank that.'

He chuckled. 'I know.'

Perhaps not completely different.

'Wade says I died for her, that kid,' he said.

'Laura.' You smiled. 'You were dying anyway. Giving yourself up to protect the kids and her, is probably just a way to speed up the process.' You were taken back to that moment like it was a dream, the blood, his eyes, his last words.

He shook his head. 'If you're Logan was any Logan, then he'd never have voluntarily let you go.'

The two of you met each others gaze.

'I just wanted to make him happy,' you said. 'In the end, I couldn't even do that.'

'You made us happy,' said Logan. 'I'm sorry, about what happened to your Logan.'

'And i'm sorry about your Y'N.'

The after:

You were dying. At least, you thought you were. You could've sworn you were in the void. But then, the TVA turned up again (you may or may not have put up a fight when they put their hands on you and Laura) and whisked you away to another universe.

'Welcome to Wade's world,' said the murk with the mouth, opening the door to you and Laura.

'That's not the trade mark, right?' you asked.

Laura laughed and walked in, joining the party.

Wade had pulled a few strings to get you and Laura back to his world to be with his Logan. It was a work in progress, sort of what the whole party was for. A dozen of his friends were invited just to get you and Logan in the same room together. Everyone was in on it, he suspected even Logan knew what he was doing but he didn't oppose.

Instead, Logan dressed some what good for the evening and planned to try to get to know Laura and to see you as you and not once his.

Wade ushered you through the room. 'There's drinks, food, cocaine cause disney's not here anymore, oh and-'

Logan set the dog- dogpool- into Laura's arms and headed to you. This was his que. 'Hey, bub.'

'Hi.'

The two of you silently stared at each other while Wade watched like a giddy school girl before he found Vanessa in the corner of his eyes and rushed to her.

‘You’re here,’ Logan noted.

You nodded. ‘So are you. You’re out of the suit.’

‘Yeah,’ he looked down at his outfit.

‘You always looked good in plaid,’ you said.

Logan looked up at you through his lashes. ‘Yeah?’

You nodded, lips forming a tight line.

After some more awkward small talk, everyone set down for pizza. You and Laura were introduced to the large group, making talk with them all- some you recognised, others you didn’t.

Laura sat between you and Logan, like a true child with her parents. You were just happy to watch her interact with him, sipping a beer as Logan smiled and chatted happily. He’d changed. His face lit up and he didn’t look like your Logan, but a happy one. It was a rare thing. ‘Oh, I’m gonna get the dog!’ She slipped from her seat, forcing you and Logan to acknowledge each other.

He nodded to the bottle in your hand. ‘Want another?’

‘I’m good.’

He nodded, finishing the rest of his. ‘She’s a good kid,’ he said.

You glanced back at Laura who was chasing the dog around. ‘Yeah, she is.’

Logan smiled at you. ‘You did good.’

Those three simple words seemed to tip the tension over the edge. It was all you’d needed to hear, Logan, telling you you were doing good with his last wish. Your eyes tears up, your hands shook.

You cleared your throat and pushed your chair back. ‘Sorry, need some air.’ While everyone chatted you slipped up from the table and out the front door- Logan watching you go, startling out of his own chair.

Wade turned to him. ‘What the fuck did you do?’

‘Shut the fuck up,’ he couldn’t wait any longer and followed you out.

He couldn’t see you when he stepped out the building and panic set into his bones. He sniffed the air and followed the trail down the side of the building where you leaned on the wall, your back to him.

He said the suit was all he had, but on his dog tags, hiddin under, was your ring. The last thing he had to remind him of you.

You heard movement and whipped around to see him. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s ok, bub.’

‘It’s just-'

‘I know,’ he said, holding up a hand.

You lean your back on the wall, taking him in as he stepped closer slowly. ‘You know i have nothing to remember him by. Not a suit. Not a picture. Even his dog tags were buried with him- or not anymore after what Wade did. Now, there isn’t even a grave. He exists only in here, in memory,’ you tapped your head. ‘And then you came and you’re just like him. Like a slap in the face.’

Logan nodded, listening and knowing the feeling. Every time he looked at you there was a twisting feeling in his gut, dread and desire mixing in the worst ways. ‘I told Laura that the suit was all I had to remember them by, but that wasn’t true.’

He stood before you and pulled at the chain around his neck. Dangling at the end were the familiar dog tags you knew and loved so much, between them a band of something else, branded with a diamond.

‘This was hers. Or yours, in my world. I’d given it to you a year before … the accident. Knew I loved you. Knew I needed you always. But I was still terrified, I’d never let you know that of course. This was all I had to remind me that you loved me.’

With enough time for him to tell you to stop, you reached out to the chain, looking at the ring.

‘You have good taste.’

He smirked. ‘Scott helped.’

You chuckle and gently set it back on his chest.

Logan took your hand, holding it, his thumb soothing over the back. ‘I know I’m not your Logan, but I want to be. I want you to be my Y/N.’

You knew the feeling. The hold he had on your hand, the only one to hold your hand since was Laura and even then, she carried a piece of him in her. Memories weren’t the only thing you had left of him- you had her. Your daughter.

Logan took one more calculated step toward you until the toes of your boots were pressed together. He held your other hand, pressing them between your bodies. ‘I want this, and so do you,’ his voice came out low, breaths like pants. He hadn’t been close to anyone in so long, it made sense the only one he’d return to was you.

You met his eyes and your resolve washed away like the ocean. You pulled your hands away from his to grab the side of his face and kiss him.

It was a slow movement of lips as you both got familiar with the taste of each other after all these years before his tongue licked over your bottom lip and you moaned into him.

Logan’s tongue swept in and the kiss became desperate. His hands fell on either side of you on the wall as you pulled him into cage you against the bricks. You barley pulled away for breath, like any space would kill you both.

You hands crept around until they were in his hair and tugging.

Logan bit down on your bottom lip before trailing down your jaw to your neck and biting down, groaning at the taste of your skin.

‘Logan,’ you gasped, rocking your body into his until you could feel the tent in his pants.

‘I need you, bub,’ he said into your neck, nuzzling his face there and licking and biting until you were bruised.

‘Baby,’ you trail a free hand down his chest until you grasped the outline of his heavy cock. He groaned and nipped harder.

‘Where are you- where are you staying?’

‘Hotel,’ you mutter in his ear, biting down in his earlobe.

‘Call a taxi.’

You pulled back enough to see his face, his expression drunk on you.

‘What about Laura?’

‘She can stay with uncle Wade!’ Called a voice from above. The two of you looked up to see Wade hanging out the window, looking down at the two of you. ‘We’ll have a girly night, let you guys get at it like rabbits in heat!’

Logan sneered. ‘Fucking jokes.’

Laura appeared next to Wade, poking her head out. As if indecent, Logan pressed his body into yours and you held onto his shoulders. ‘Yeah, I’ll stay with Wade!’

You sigh, knowing you’d regret keeping her with Wade but regret letting go of Logan even more.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The two of you were like teenagers. Like being in love for the first time all over again. Your hands remained hovering over his crotch throughout the taxi ride and his lips never left you alone.

You walked through the lobby with some dignity but by the time the doors of the elevator slid shut, he had you pinned to the wall and was sliding a huge thigh between your legs and letting you grind yourself on it.

You just had to have a room on the top floor. At some point, an elderly couple joined you and Logan pulled away just in time. He kept a firm grip on your hand and you dragged him out as soon as you arrived at your floor.

You fumbled with the key card and threw it somewhere else as soon as you got in the room.

Logan growled and kissed you, tongue parting your lips and teeth nipping. His hands grabbed your thighs and hoisted you until you were wrapped around his body like a kola on a tree. His hands moved around until they cupped your ass and moved you to grind into him.

You moaned into his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip as he made his way toward the bed.

He dropped you down as you bounced on the mattress. Looking over you, he made quick work at pulling his shirt over his head as you opened your legs, inviting him in. ‘Desperate, bub?’

You nodded, biting down on your lips.

What a sinful look. He moaned just at the sight of you before dropping to his knees.

You fumbled with your jeans, undoing them quickly and shifting your hips until Logan pulled them down and threw them behind him.

His hands were just as rough as your Logan and just as large as they climbed up your legs, his lips following suit. With every dent his fingers made his lips kissed until he was hovering over you me panties, damp and waiting. ‘Oh, poor cunt hasn’t been treated in a while, has she?’ He whined, looking up to you from between your thighs.

You watched his tongue dart out to swipe across you hidden pussy before falling back on the bed in pleasure. He’d barley touched you and yet you were a mess, wiling to beg and do anything for him. For any part of him. ‘Logan, please.’

‘I will bub, I will,’ he smirked, inching closer and closer. ‘But we have all the time in the world.’

He blew against your clit and begun to make out with the dampness of your pussy. His tongue only made it more wet, going between farting out and taking long strokes.

‘Logan,’ you pulled at his hair, trying to get him closer.

He hooked a finger through your panties and pulled them aside, burying himself in there.

The moans you emoted were pornographic as he took long strokes with his tongue, teasing you as his tongue repeatedly nudged your clit.

‘Fuck!’ You moaned, holding a hand to your mouth.

Logan looked up, saw this and grasped your wrist, pinning it to your stomach. He pulled away. ‘I will fucking stop and let you do the job if you dare think about shutting up,’ his voice was rasp and it sent a shiver through you. ‘I want you to scream, sweetheart.’

He spread your folds and feasted like a man starved. He had been. He’d forgotten things about you, the depth of your laugh or the twinkle in your eyes. The way your body vibrates and the way you taste. Now, he was willing to work days and nights to get it all back.

Your thighs trembled, caging around his head.

Logan laughed against your pussy. ‘You want to keep me here, baby? Want me to suffocate between your thighs?’ He didn’t even try and pull away. He grabbed your thigh with one hand and with his other, he slid a finger into your.

Your hands gripped the bed sheets. ‘Logan, I’m..’

He groaned, moving his hips against the sheets. He wouldn’t last long and he knew it, but he wanted you on your face before he came inside of you. ‘You’re so tight baby, did other Logan not treat you right? The way you deserve.’

You muled, unable to do anything else but squeeze your eyes shut and feel your high approach.

Logan laughed. ‘He didn’t stretch you out enough, did he baby?’ He slid in another finger and rested his head back on your thigh, keeping watch on you with dark eyes. ‘If it were me, I’d have fucked this cunt every day. Made it fit for me and only me. Have it crying out for me all day and every day.’

‘Logan, I’m gonna cum,’ you gasp.

He darts his tongue out and flicks your clit and scissors his fingers until you moan out, trying to lift your hips as you come all over him.

Logan doesn’t waste a second to lick you up. His tongue cleaning you softly as his fingers trace circles in your thighs. ‘So good for me, fuck, you taste like your mine.’

‘I’m yours,’ you utter.

Logan looks up at you, backing away from your legs. Your all over his lips, his tongue, his mind. He thought his dick couldn’t get harder but it strained heavy against his trousers. ‘All mine, hey bub?’

You put yourself in your elbows and look down at him. ‘All yours, Logan.’

He leapt upon you like an animal, flattening you to the bed with all his weight on top of you. Your fingers fumbled with his belt as he pulled away enough to rip your shirt in two, bra following.

He squeezed your tits, rolling one nipple between his fingers and taking the other between his teeth.

You panted under him, that familiar ache climbing up your body as you ground your damp panties into him.

Once you’d undone his belt, Logan tugged them off, freeing his cock.

‘Good to see all Logan’s go commando,’ you tease.

He smirks. ‘Only for you, bub.’

He trails kisses between your tits, trailing all the way down your stomach before he found your panties again. He pulled them down agonising slowly with his teeth, your body awakening in shivers at the touch.

Once you were both left bare, he took his cock, pumping it and looking at you withering body, awaiting him.

‘You want my cock, sweetheart? Want it inside of you?’

‘Please.’

‘Were you always sweet for your old man?’ He asked, slowly sinking lower, this tip of his cock feeling your heat. ‘Did you tease him? Were you a good girl for him?’

‘Yes!’ You whine.

He laughed at your desperation.

‘You gonna be good and take it like my Y/N?’ As he asks, he slips the tip between your folds and moans out, throwing his head back as you bite down on your lip, whimpering. ‘Oh fuck, bub. Shit. Too good for me.’

You grasp at his back, trying to pull him in more.

He tutted. ‘That’s not very patient of you, thought you were gonna be good.’ He wanted to tease, wanted to spend the rest of the night getting familiar with you again, but fuck did you feel so good swallowing up the tip of his cock.

‘I’ll be good, Logan.’

‘Fuck, yea you will, bub,’ he slides in further, gripping the base of his cock to guide himself in. ‘Fuck.’

The two of you are silent, gasping and groaning as he tries to fit himself all in. Your legs are spread and you clutch onto his shoulders.

When he’s half way, he pulls back only to slide in faster, deeper. He repeats, muttering under his breath. ‘Fuck, fuck, shit Y/N.’

‘Logan,’ you moan.

‘I love hearing you say my name,’ he groaned, dropping a kiss to your shoulder as he moved in and out of you. He sped up, gripping you ass to hoist you up and reach in deeper.

You moan loud enough to shake the walls.

‘That’s right. Taking me- fuck- taking me just like you always have, he grunted, looking down at you. Looking down at where he disappeared inside of you, to know it was real.

You grabbed his shoulders, urging you over him as he thrusted in at an un-relenting pace. His chain of dog tags and the ring dangled in your face and you let your tongue out so he could dip the cool metal on your tongue.

Logan moaned and stilled, grabbing your hips. ‘Want you to ride me, bub.’

With a smirk, you tossed yourselves over until Logan was spread out on the bed and you could sink all the way down on his cock. You did it faster than he’d expected, just to see his eyes roll to the back of his head.

His grip on your hips remained tight enough to bruise, but he let you set the pace.

You dreaded yourself on his chest and started slow, agonisingly slow. Enough to torment him.

‘Bub,’ he growled.

You smirked and started to bounce, started to move quicker, throwing your ass against him every time.

The bed rocked on the wall and his growls were animalistic. The rocking of the bed became in time with the slap of his balls against you ass.

‘Keep going bub, I’m gonna cum,’ he said.

‘Cum inside of me,’ you pant, sweat causing the baby hairs to stick to you.

He looked in your eyes, his cock twitching inside of you. ‘Yea? Want me to fill you up, huh?’

You nodded, chasing that familiar buzz in your gut.

‘Bet your Logan didn’t fill you up to the brim. Not as much as you deserve, you deserve it all. Don’t you baby, say it!’

‘I deserve it all,’ you utter. ‘Logan I’m-‘

Logan groaned and he lurched up, gripping your body close to his as he came inside of you, his seed coating your walls as yours ran down his cock to the base. He bit down on your shoulder, twitching as he held you both.

Once you’d both recovered, gently, he rolled you over until you were back in bed and he was still inside of you.

You watched him, marking every bit of him in your memory.

Logan saw this and cradled your head. ‘I’m not going anywhere bub, and neither are you.’

He kissed you sweetly, taking his time to steal your breath and feel your lips. Tasting like home.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

When you next woke, with the sun up, you felt a heavy arm draped over you and an even heavier body practically on-top of you, caging you to the bed. He was warm, smelled like whiskey and sex.

Logan. Now your Logan, back in your arms

Memories of last night came back to you in fragments like a dream. You fingers brushed through his hair. There were a couple bruises littered around his neck but you were sure there were more on yours.

‘Mornin’ he grumbled, burying himself closer to you.

‘Indeed.’ Said a voice.

Your head shots up as Laura sits in a chair across from the bed, arms folded over her chest and smirking at the two of you. It was lucky Logan’s body covered yours, but all your clothes were still scattered everywhere and the quilt just about hung over Logan’s backside.

He hardly blinked, ‘hey kid.’

You fell back on the bed and for the first time in years, you laughed.

[rimqueen]

trailer park trajectory

ft. jimmy x fem!reader

tags. daddy-daughter incest, smut, mention of vomit, mentions of pregnancy and abortion, anal, piv sex, creampie, daddy kink

note. not liking this but whatever who gaf! unedited per usual. feedback n rbs always appreciated :3

The year Jimmy spent with his high school girlfriend might’ve been the best year of his life. Man, he had it fucking cushty. He had a pierced ear and she had a bad boy fantasy, but Jimmy isn’t bad he is just a piece of fucking shit to be entirely honest. Columbine bad maybe. He’s sure any dentist would be delighted to drill the rot out of him, it goes deep.

She had lotion-smelling rich-girl skin and a velvet cunt, fit like a glove. All round and soft, shaped by a silver spoon. He liked her heated toilet and fluffy pillows and fuck-proof bed. He liked using her walk-in shower, body jets included, it felt nice to go to school not stinking of ammonia and wet dogs.

It was their senior year and he had never been particularly popular, maybe because of his shitty shoes and shittier attitude, but she liked him more than he ever liked her. He liked having something he couldn’t have. Jimmy liked that look on her dad’s face anytime he came over, somewhere between constipation and resignation. He had tried to talk it out with his daughter, but she was so hopelessly in love with Jimmy, stubbornly so, she seemed to take his flaws as a personal affront. It didn’t matter what clothes he wore, the bands he liked, his postcode—She loved him, trailer-trash scum and all.

Jimmy didn’t get it, but he wasn’t complaining.

Then she went and got knocked up. She spent prom night in the bathroom hacking up her guts. It was disgusting. She was disgusting; vomit caked around her pink mouth, face crumpled like a used tissue as she clung to the leg of that fancy tuxedo she got him. He couldn’t believe he had ever fucked her, wanted her, kissed her. 

Whether it was Jimmy’s or not it didn’t matter. She had something inside of her. He had fucked her and she had that thing growing, taking up space in her abdominal cavity like an alien parasite. He had fucked her and it was in there. At the time killing her crossed his mind, once or twice, thrice at the very most. Jimmy came over one day with a coat hanger and opioids from his mom’s makeshift pharmacy in the bathroom cabinet. He told her it was going to be okay, that she didn’t have to worry any longer. Unfortunately, that did not work out. She kicked and screamed and her parents came in and it was a big mess really. They found out with a little coaxing of course, as if the hanger wasn’t a big enough hint, and it was an even bigger mess really.

Paternal tests were taken so Jimmy couldn’t get out of it. He prayed every night to gods he didn’t even fucking believe in, took up Buddhism during the third trimester. Much to his dismay it wasn’t stillborn it was a fucking girl.

Before you were born, Curly had asked him several times if he was sure he wanted to be inside the delivery room. Obviously he fucking did not. Nobody wants to see their girlfriend’s fucking guts. No man should have to see a pussy that isn’t intact. But it felt like a dig at Jimmy, the implication being he wasn’t able to handle it.

(He threw up when he saw the epidural, passed out when she got split open in all the wrong ways.)

Her father pushed him out little by little, Jimmy was glad. Fresh out of the womb and you were living newborn life in circles Jimmy has never belonged, making connections with toddler oligarchs. You didn’t need him and he didn’t want you. What was the point of sticking around? Parenting is not his forte, children are not his niche, in fact Jimmy would prefer for them to be kept fifteen feet away from him at all times. They’re leeches - eat your food, drain your savings, complicate your sex life, and worst of all they cry.

Jimmy finds no point in pretending to be nice, but to you he is deliberately cruel. Precise like he is cutting into you with a scalpel, surgeon-steady hands tearing you a new one. He doesn’t think you remember what he told you growing up—I never wanted you, I never wanted you, I never wanted you—because your laughter is light like the world has never been cruel to you.

“You can’t even do this for me, James?” She is using his full name so he ignores her, but she continues looking at him expectantly, wanting something from his empty pockets.

After all these years, his ex has still got it, that’s what money can get you. Her tits are in the right place, high on her chest, like the two halves of an evenly sliced melon were stuffed down the front of her blouse. Her ass is tight courtesy of her newest doctor. It could’ve worked out if she had just got rid of you.

Jimmy is sitting at his dining table rolling cigarettes to light on the stove. The table is round and white like a giant bottle cap, foldable to make extra space inside his trailer. He eats breakfast, lunch and dinner here, there’s no room for two plates. There is no room for you here or anywhere, especially no room in his life.

“She’s not gonna like it here.” He shrugs, and he’s not wrong. You’re going to go running for the hills the minute you step foot in the trailer park. “I heard they got nice things to do in England for Christmas.” Jimmy doesn’t have a single clue on what goes down in England and whether they’re even that big on Christmas.

“There’s nice things to do everywhere, but you won’t be there.”

“Why does it matter if I’m there?” When has anybody ever wanted Jimmy to stick around for longer than absolutely necessary? When has she ever wanted him to stay? Everything was made clear to Jimmy when she decided to have you, she didn’t want him then so why does it matter now?

“Because you’re her dad? If I needed a babysitter I could drop her to Candy, but she’s an adult and she doesn’t need one, Jim.” All of her friends have stripper names, Jimmy had told her that once. “I am asking you to spend time with our daughter, your daughter just for a week and you can’t even do that for me?”

“She’s a big girl now, sure she can handle a week on her own.” Jimmy does not look up once, you’re simply not interesting to him.

Defeated, she lets out a laugh. It’s half-aborted and exhausted. “Fine. Fine. Whatever. She’s never going to speak to you again when she finds out about this, I’m serious.”

“Good,” Jimmy bites out, gritting his teeth so hard they feel as if they’ve come loose.

“Don’t say that, Jim.” The toilet flushes and Curly steps out of the bathroom wiping his hands on a tea towel. “You should let her come over, he’s spending Christmas at my place this year.”

Oh, fuck off.

Fucking Curly and his hard-on for good deeds.

“I didn’t know you were here, Curly.” Her eyes light up because Curly is the saviour of the masses, he is modern day Jesus fucking Christ and Jimmy is useless as tits on a nun. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude, it’s different if it’s just Jim, but…”

“Course not, kid’s like family to me.” He smiles, all bright and cheery, a burning ball of gas that is blinding and clearly noxious because he’s making Jimmy sick.

“That’s sweet.” She sighs, her voice taking on a dreamy tone, head tilted to the side as she smiles at Curly sweetly. Like she wants to fuck him. “You’re sweet. Thank you, I didn’t want to leave her alone, but dad’s going to be in hospital and I just need her to have fun, I mean it’s Christmas.”

“I get it.” Curly pats her on the shoulder, she side-hugs him and Jimmy watches like some sad sack of shit cuck. “See you soon, alright? You take care now.” He sees her off like a gentleman.

“If you want her so bad you take her.”

“Who, the kid or her?” He nudges Jimmy playfully. It’s a joke, but Jimmy does not take it as one. He knows that Curly is perfectly capable of doing both.

Jimmy scoffs. “The kid—She’s not a kid, y’know?”

Curly waves his hand dismissively. “C’mon, she is to me.” Swooping in like a saviour and he hasn’t even seen you since your sweet sixteenth. Curly doesn’t know that you zip around town in a shiny sports car now, it whizzes down the road like a bullet. He doesn’t know how you wear your hair, what clothes you wear, that you drink and smoke and fuck.

Jimmy knows.

“Are you kidding, she’s big as fuck, man.” Jimmy makes a motion with his hands, gesturing to his chest lewdly. “Like her mom.”

“Knock it off, Jim.”

“There’s no snow this year because of global warming, Uncle Curly.” You’re as dull-witted as ever this evening, helping yourself to the expensive wine you brought along. Nothing on your plate has been touched apart from a single grape and half a cracker. “The ice caps are melting, we should cut down on our meat consumption.”

Showed up at Curly’s doorstep decked out in your tightest cashmere sweater and smallest skirt, no holes in your stockings and one of those expensive scarves that don’t leave fibres all over the rest of your clothes. An American Girl doll all grown up, dabbling in cocaine and Saturday night DUIs, mouth painted red like a whore. He doesn’t know what part of you is him, that’s something to be glad about.

Jimmy looked through the peep-hole and double locked the door.

Curly let you in because of course he did.

“Is that so?” He’s such a phoney, pretending to care about what you say while he loads his plate with glazed ham, lamb and turkey. “Don’t know if I’ll be able to do that if I’m honest.”

“Everybody knows that, you don’t have to sound so interested.” It’s just a little bit ironic that they’re getting lectured at by a girl who’s luxury is polluting the ecosystem. Curly could cut down on meat and Jimmy could start cycling everywhere he goes but that still wouldn’t make a difference. Your million-dollar smile is shedding microplastics, and you have an arsenal of beauty products with enough chemicals to run a fucking meth lab, but sure Jimmy is supposed to pedal himself half to death and Curly is going to eat tofu till he gags all in the name of the environment that you are using as a playground.

“Jim.”

“Sorry,” says Jimmy, who is very unsorry. It’s less about remorse and more about keeping peace. He knows how Curly gets, that he likes to keep things rainbows and sunshine, he likes apologies. Treats them as a currency of sorts. “Weren’t you in Paris last week?”

“Yes, dad, I was really stressed out about finals.” Right. Right. Jet-setting is amazing for the planet of course. “Mental wellness is so important, that’s why mom still looks so young, she looks good, right?”

“Her doctor did great.”

“That’s not funny, dad.” You wag your manicured little finger at him. He wants to break it. The irony isn’t thick, it’s suffocating. Recycle, reuse, reduce all you want but somewhere in the world there’s a girl like you with a closet full of clothes you have worn once to show off online, taking last minute trips to tropical destinations for spa treatments you could get down the road. “You get it don’t you, Uncle Curly?”

“Oh yeah.” Curly smiles, blinding. “You only live once, gotta make the most of it.”

“Exactly!” Your chirp, leaning towards him as you smile, equally as blinding. “It’s a balance, you have to enjoy yourself in moderation and recycle.” Moderation says a girl who hasn’t worn the same pair of socks twice, a girl whose hands have never touched a vacuum, and neither have Jimmy’s but for different reasons. You’ve never had to. He’s just lazy. “Oh, you know, Uncle Curly, I thought you would be married by now.”

Sheepish, Curly shakes his head, messing with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Not yet, not had any time really.”

“I think you’re a catch, Uncle Curly.” Little bit weird, but okay. Jimmy says nothing. “You have those big working-man hands.”

“Oh, I guess I do.” He laughs it off, but it’s taut, a faint tension in his square jaw.

“Yeah, they’re huge, Uncle Curly—Look!” You hold yours up, blinking at him expectantly to do the same, and Curly cannot say no. Not when it comes to Jimmy and not when it comes to you. “See!”

“I do.” Curly’s smile is doing its best not to fall.

“Mom always sets me up with, like, losers, I mean they don’t know how to do anything, I doubt they could screw a lightbulb in—I can’t screw a lightbulb in, but that’s not my job is it, Uncle Curly?”

“No, it’s not.” Your hands have intertwined, you’re giving him this smile that is making Curly uneasy, and Jimmy thinks for the first time that maybe you really are his.

“You turn forty next year, right?” You ask, a hidden intention behind your seemingly innocent question. Curly hums, nodding slowly. “We should get together if you don’t get a girlfriend by your birthday, Uncle Curly.”

Curly splutters, his words tangled in his throat, looking at Jimmy for help. “I don’t think—“

“No, really, I’m serious, Uncle Curly.” You squeeze his hand tightly, eyes sort of crazed. “I’ve got a thing for, like, blue-collar guys, and mom likes you and I mean your dad’s best friend so…” You’re a child who hasn’t been denied anything, you don’t know what limits are. “I just think it’s sexy, all that heavy-lifting and sweating, it’s so different.”

Jimmy snorts, the corner of his lip lifting in amusement. “You go right ahead, got my blessing for sure.”

“Jim,” he strains, jerking himself out of your grip, “I think you should get her home, had one too many drinks, didn’t you, sweetheart? It’s okay, happens to the best of us.”

“I’m fine actually, Uncle Curly, don’t worry about me—“

“Jim.”

Jimmy groans as he stretches, taking his time getting up and putting his boots on. “C’mon, we’re going home.”

“But dad—“ You’re pouting, that doesn’t work on him like it would your mother.

“We’re going home,” Jimmy tells you, making it clear there’s no room for any ands, ifs or buts.

“Are you going to murder me?” You blink rapidly as if trying to wake up from a nightmare. Jimmy’s rusty pick-up clunks and clanks down the narrow dirt path that leads home.

“Nah, not worth it.”

“Then why are you taking me here?” You take in the deconstructed metal structures, washing hung on lines that span the whole field. “This isn’t where you live is it, dad?”

See, this is why he used to babysit at your place. You’re a prissy piece of shit. He pulls up beside his trailer, undoing his seatbelt. Nails dig into his arm, you cling to him like you never have before. “Dad, I don’t want to sleep here!”

“Then sleep in the car.” Jimmy sighs deeply, inconvenienced by you like he has been his whole life, a faint vein throbbing in his forehead.

“Are you serious?” You hold onto him tighter. Fucking parasite. Ungrateful, good-for-nothing, la-di-da sorority girl. “What if get raped, dad? Do you want me to get raped, is that really what you want.”

Jimmy thinks on it, he smiles for the first time that night. “If it shuts you up, yes.”

“That’s awful! You’re awful!”

You end up following him inside, sniffling into the arm of his jacket and making little noises of disgust. “Can I sleep with you?”

“Will you be quiet?”

“I will, I swear, I won’t make a peep, dad.”

You do move a lot though so Jimmy traps you under his arm, it curls tight around your waist like a snake and you let out a soft whimper. “Stay still.”

“Sorry…” You whisper, and then you proceed to move again, the curve of your soft ass pressing against his crotch.

Women are either beautiful or not, and it might be bad to say—When has that ever stopped Jimmy before? You’re hot for a girl that’s supposed to be his daughter. Like Pornstar Barbie and Ken bumped plastic uglies to make you. It’s why he doesn’t fully believe it, you could be Curly’s for all he knows.

(The paternity test says otherwise. It says you are his. His baby, his parasite, his responsibility.)

“What are you trying, little girl?” Jimmy hisses in your ear, the hand on your waist slides up to grope your breast through the fabric of your silk nightie.

You don’t seem upset. Which is what a girl should be when her father touches her fucking tit. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” Jimmy squeezes tighter, fat tit caged in by his fingers like netted meat. “You’re soaking your panties over some fucked up poverty fetish, you weird little bitch.” Just like your mom and her weird fucking trailer park princess fantasy. Look where that ended up. “What did you say to him? Working-man hands,” Jimmy recalls, and he can’t help but laugh, it’s so fucked up. What is wrong with rich girls? “Uncle Curly didn’t want to fuck you so you’re trying it out on your dad, hm? Is that what this is?”

“You’re my dad…” He thinks something normal is going to come out of your mouth for a split second, and then you say, “Of course you were my first choice.” Defying all expectations as usual.

“I never wanted you.”

“Do you want me now?” You take his hand and guide it between your thighs, his calloused hand gliding over your rich-girl skin. It feels like hers used to.

”No.” Jimmy cups your cunt, the heat coming through your panties.

“You do… I can feel you, dad.” You wriggle your ass, hard dick slotting perfectly between the two peachy cheeks. “You want me.”

“I don’t want you.” He’s never wanted you, and he won’t start now.

“Then why are you touching me?” You sound all smug, and he’s glad he can’t see your stupid face in the dark.

“Because.” You’re another hole to fuck, that can never do a guy any harm. Jimmy slides your panties to the side, two fingers on your stiff clit, rubbing it from side to side.

“I can feel you.” You whine in your whiny little voice, and he’s too taken by the faint sound of your squelching pussy soaking his fingers to be irritated.

“Yeah.” His breath comes out sharp, grinding his dick into your ass while he gets you off. “Dad started thinking about spoiled little pussies, think you could help him out?”

“If he asks nicely—Oh!” You yelp when Jimmy flattens you to the creaking bed.

This is what you wanted, so it’s what you’re going to get. No milky-soft, sappy rich boy shit. Jimmy isn’t going to kiss your ankles and tell you that you look beautiful tonight, he’s going to fuck you how you want to be fucked.

“Look at you, you’re asking for it.” Jimmy drags the neckline over the swell of your full breasts, they droop slightly when out of their confines and that’s how you know they’re real. Porn tits.

You nod, wide-eyed and pouty-lipped. “I’m asking for it, daddy.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What the fuck. Daddy? God, he doesn’t even like being dad let alone daddy.

Beneath him, you shift, spreading your legs as far as they go and reaching down to part your plump pussy lips with your pink nails, it’s so soaked your fingers slip when you try to spread your labia. “I need you right here, daddy.

Jimmy’s cock throbs. Hard as a diamond. He fumbles to take off his boxers. Whatever you’re doing to him, fucking around with his brain like the little parasite you are, it’s downright wrong. He’s going to fuck right through you. A silvery strand of pre trickles down the underside of his shaft, his dick twitches, balls tightening the longer he watches your soft cunt flutter around nothing.

With your ankles behind your head you’re infinitely prettier. You part your whore lips and whine, still spreading yourself open for him, this time with the addition of your cute, bleached asshole. It’s puffy and tight and he wonders if you’ve ever let anybody in.

“Slut.” Jimmy spits on your cunt, it’s unneeded, but this is how real men fuck. His spit dribbles down your crack, wetting your tighter hole. “Is this what you wanted?” He asks, voice low and rough as he drags the head of his cock up and down your slit, swiftly sinking into your tight cunt. A single, fluid thrust and he’s buried to the hilt, pussy sucking him in because you’re greedy.

“Yes, yes—Yes, daddy.” Your fingers tremble as you hold yourself open for him, bottom lip jutting out as a moan builds in your throat. “I wanted it so bad, daddy—Needed you.”

You get everything you want. Of course you do. Here he is giving it to you, eating out the palm of your hand. Jimmy can’t think when you tighten around him, sweating like he’s in a fucking sauna. His mind blanks, driving his hips forward like nothing else matters, the mattress nags at him with each thrust, creaking noisily. Stupid rich-girl cunt taking every inch without hesitation, wet and warm and so fucking tight he can’t breathe.

Somewhere between each frantic, feverish thrust of his dick, Jimmy slips out and the fat head presses to your asshole. You don’t say anything. That’s like giving him the go-ahead. So when you are too busy whimpering about the loss of his cock in your stretched little cunt, Jimmy breaches your ass, the head pops in no problem. You’re dirty. You’ve been used over and over. So many dicks before him even in your tightest hole.

“You’re a slut,” Jimmy mumbles into your neck, hips jerking forward, pushing against the resistance your hole puts up until he is sheathed inside of you.

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You like it. You like the burn as he forces his way in, breaking open your asshole so no one else will ever want to use it.

“No you’re not.” All you do is take and take and take. Parasite. Spoiled. Stupid whore. He fucks into you, riled up by your fucking audacity. His daughter is a slut. All because he didn’t stick around, you had to rely on your incompetent airhead of a mother.

The fat tip of Jimmy’s dick pops out of your hole, you cry out, begging him to put it back in. Give it to me, dad. Please, daddy. I want it, daddy. Dad. Dad. Dad. I want it now. Daddy. You don’t even know how to say please, he doesn’t think you’ve ever had to say it.

“Shut up,” Jimmy groans, face strained like he has a terrible headache, “shut up.”

You pout, that’s all you know how to do. Want. Want. Want. You’re holding yourself open for him still, he can see your insides. Jimmy guides his cock back up, slapping it against the puffy rim, watching your hole wink at him. “Fuck me,” you demand, whinging at him, brown drawn together in a scowl that’s almost his.

“Do it yourself.” He levels you with his glare. “Slut,” he adds for good measure, “c’mon, work for it.”

You must be a natural because Jimmy knows you have never worked a single day in your life. The way you work his cock, lifting your hips up and humping upwards, taking him deeper each time, it drives him crazy.

Absent-mindedly, Jimmy’s fingers find your clit, eyes trained on your asshole stretching open around his shaft, his hips have started to move again. He can’t help himself. He does it better. Faster. Harder. Makes you cry, cheeks wet as you sob for him.

Daddy, daddy, daddy.

Jimmy hates it, but he tunes you out, pinching your clit so hard you wail and swear to fucking god the whole park must hear it. Your cunt gushes all over his hand, dripping into the cupped palm of his hand while he pounds into your ass, the slap of his balls on your skin getting louder the closer he gets to his high.

With a strained noise deep in the back of his throat, Jimmy’s dick gives a few last thrusts into your hole, the wet click, click, click of your throughly fucked asshole drives him nuts. He spills his load inside of you, it dribbles out when his cock slips out.

Jimmy flops down beside you. “I never wanted you,” he mumbles, hoping you know where he stands on your existence, still one of his hands finds itself rubbing your hip tenderly.

“You do now.” He almost misses the cheeky smile on your face in the dark. You’re clearly satisfied, preening and cuddling into his chest like you’re his girlfriend, tingling from head to toe, draping yourself over him like he is a trophy he’s won.

“Go to bed.” He taps you sharply on the ass.

“Okay, daddy.” Jimmy feels you tracing hearts into his skin, soothing him to sleep. “I love you,” you say, pressing a kiss to his clavicle, you smell like your mom. Rich-girl skin. He pretends to be asleep.

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

Don't Do That To Me - 1

PAIRINGS: Captain John Price x Techie!Reader

SUMMARY: What happens when your recklessness almost costs you your life? Will John regret putting an end to your "hush-hush" relationship? Will he even care?

WARNINGS: A pinch of angst, inaccuracies of military operations, inaccuracies of hacking, and John being a silent simp.

WORD COUNT: 2,252 (Yeah, it's a lot for me 😅)

*not proof-read*

ENJOY!

You take off your vest and put it on the 7-year-old boy who trembles in fear. Your hand itching to take a hold of the gun that’s pocketed in your thigh holster, you turn to look at Soap and Gaz as they do the rest of the sweep of the warehouse.

You look back at the boy and place a hand on his shoulder, “You are ok, we will get you out.” He nods shakily at your statement, and his mother wraps her arms around him tighter as they huddle near the window.

You get up from your crouch position and walk over to Gaz, who has just entered the room. “Found it?” you ask hopefully to which Gaz nods. “You’re lucky it’s a portable one,” he replies and hands you the Toughbook. Your eyes widen as you take it immediately and place it on the nearby desk and you flip it open and start typing away.

Your fingers work mindlessly as you concentrate hard.

You hear Soap talk to Gaz regarding something about communications being jammed, you don’t remember when Soap walked in.

“Guys, wait, this Toughbook controls some satellite connections within, like, a three-mile radius,” you stop and turn and look at the two sergeants.

Soap walks forward and leans over your shoulder to get a better look at your screen, “Looks like gibberish to me, bonnie.” You huff slightly and turn back to the toughbook, “I can try to reconnect the comms back to Captain, I just need-,”

“Go ahead,” Gaz says while looking at the hostages. You hear him walking to stand on the other side of you, “why did you give up your vest.”

It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

A statement to you stupidity.

You, yourself, wouldn’t call it ‘stupidity’ per se.

You would call it your everlasting kindness.

Even though that boy’s father may have info on some plans that maybe the solid scheme to breaking out Makarov, the boy is still a child. A child shouldn’t be harmed for what his father has committed.

You tell your whole pity story to Gaz, and he just rolls his eyes and mutters something like “reason why you’re a techie and not a soldier”.

You roll your own eyes and elbow his thigh.

You type for a while longer until you’re so sure that your work was right and click “Enter”.

***

John hears the static come through and he sits straighter in his chair, so does Ghost. “Team?” he says into the mic in front of him.

“Hear you loud and clear, Captain.” Your voice pulls through and he almost sighs in relief.

Almost

“Copy, Sergeant.” He sinks back into his chair and listens as Soap gives in the summary of what has happened and the hostages, they have in their keeps.

John and Simon are stationed at base, by Laswell’s orders, to stay put and help the team through comms. So, they both, along with Laswell and other military grade personnel, sit in the meeting room looking at the various screens hooked on the wall.

John’s focus was primarily on his own Toughbook as he sees the intel you’re sending over from your side.

For him it feels like yesterday.

Yesterday, when he held you in his arms.

Yesterday, when he kissed you senseless.

Yesterday, when you said you loved him.

Yesterday, when he fucked you good and held you while your slept in each other’s arms.

Yesterday, when you both argued about the fact your relationship was a secret.

Yesterday, when you stopped talking to him.

He hated himself for trying to put an end to what you both had. He tried to wish you luck before the OP but Soap told him that you didn’t want to talk to Price, something about “getting her head straight and in focus.”

Now, you’re on the field, your fingers smacking on some keyboard of some Toughbook and send him the intel on whatever you can get your hands on.

His eyes caught something on one of the screens.

One of the techie’s has somehow managed to get a street camera that’s angled to the window of the warehouse you, Soap and Gaz are currently in.

“Sergeant’s, we got eyes on the hostage, through a window. Over,” Laswell’s says into the table mic.

A second later Soap’s face pops on the screen, and John’s brow’s twitch.

You’re in there, somewhere.

He straightens his face again; he can’t let the board know that he was (ex-)fucking the most talented Technical Sergeant he’s ever had to work with.

Soap and Laswell converse over the comms, but John’s eyes are focused on the screen as he see’s Soap step away from the window.

Then he sees it…The red dot

***

You finalise you’re typing and see the loading bar as it slowly increases per second.

“Laswell, the data is slowly being transferred over to your database, over.” You press on to the comms as you convey your message to your Chief Officer.

You turn around to see the child and his mother again.

And that when you spot it…The red dot.

“Shit, kill the lights,” you whisper-yell to Gaz. Gaz furrows his eyebrows at your words and the way you crouch. You nod at the mother, at the one, then two, then three red dots appear on her body.

Snipers

You hear Gaz and Soap swear and get their guns ready, and one of them shuts the lights off.

“Laswell, we got a situation here.” You hear Soap’s static words through the earpiece.

Gaz tells you and Soap to stay put as he exits the room. You hear Laswell and John swear. Firstly, your heart stutters at John’s voice (but you quickly push that feeling aside). Secondly, you turn to see the son witness what’s on his mother’s body and soon screams.

“Hey, buddy. Eyes on me,” you cringe first at his shrill tone, then you whisper and calmly wave him over. He shook his head, but you’re assuming his mother knew what was happening and slowly convinced him to come towards you.

When he reaches you, you tighten your vest on him and give him a reassuring look.

Soon there’s some static and a new voice is heard, a distorted voice with a bit of an Arabic accent.

“Hand us the boy.”

You look at Soap, and he looks at you.

“Hand us the boy, and no one gets hurt.”

You go to click on your comms, and Soap stops you as he shakes his head.

“Let me,” you whisper back, Soap sighs and let’s go of your wrist shaking his head because he knows that he can’t stop you.

You nod and click and hold onto your comms button, “You’d willingly hurt your wife?” You look back at the woman, she clutches onto her hijab as she silently mutters her prayers.

“No questions, just hand us the boy. We won’t kill you if you do,” the voice replies.

***

John clenches his jaw as he hears the voice threaten you.

He hates that you are in this situation, he hates the fact he can’t be there to actually see what or how you are doing.

***

“Look, to whoever this is, there’s no way we are returning the boy. And there is no way you are killing his mother,” you say sternly into the comms.

Soap paces with his grip on his rifle tight as ever, he listens as you talk into the comms and make sure the voice on the other side is aware that you are not giving up.

You rub at your forehead as you sit on the floor and share a look of sympathy with the woman whose life is on the line.

***

Thirty-Five minutes.

That’s how long it has been since the start of their incident.

“What’s the plan, Cap,” Ghost’s rough voice breaks John out of reverie.

He turns slightly to face the man in the skull mask, “can’t really say without being there. If only-.”

Laswell cuts him off.

“No John, I was never gonna let you go on the operation. I knew the beef you have with the kid’s father. You would let you anger blind you,” she says in her boss voice.

He opens his mouth to say something, but she raises her hand to silence him. “Maybe not by lot, but at least by a little bit John.”

He keeps quiet at that.

Because he knows that its true.

He also knowns that if something to you, he will never forgive himself, and hunt down the person behind the distorted voice.

He grumbles as he crosses his arms as he eyes the screen of the live camera footage.

***

“What are we going to do,” Soap says as he stays vigilant. You are not physically vigilant you’re stuck in the middle as you rub your temples, your mind being the extremely vigilant one.

“We have to make a distraction, also where the hell is Gaz-?” Your voice gets cut off but the distorted voice again.

“Time’s up, shot’s being taken,” the static breaks through your earpiece and your heart drops.

Soap looks at you and you look at Soap with your eyes widening.

“No!” you yell and run to the window and push the woman aside and take her place instead, the red dots now covering your form.

***

The voice cuts through the speakers and the words make John become alert.

The meaning behind them, makes everyone in the board room sit straighter and murmurs go around the room.

Then his heart drops.

He sees you push the woman away and stand in front of the window yourself.

The first time he sees you after a long time, is when your life is at risk.

He stands up abruptly, and while he moves to the screen, his throat closing as he sees the red dots being aimed at your head.

“Laswell, act now,” he turns and dips his head as his voice drops an octave.

Laswell sees the seriousness in his face and begins to throw out orders, and people start running around.

John, however, stays put.

He watches your face, the face he’d caresses every night when you spend the nights in one another’s bed.

“Don’t do that, princess,” he mutters to himself as he feels his headache at the pressure in him.

***

You hand slightly trembles as you make eye contact with the street camera Laswell was talking about.

You breathe out shakily.

“The hell you’re doin’, Lass,” Soap whisper yells at you.

You ignore him and press on the comms, “you have me now.”

The distorted voice fills the caves of your mind as it chuckles, “even better.”

The sound of the gunshot rents the air

***

“No,” John mutters as his breath gets caught in his chest and walks closer to the screen as he hears the gunshot too.

He’s breathing becomes laboured.

A few seconds later, there’s static through the comms.

“Hostile eliminated, I repeat, Hostile eliminated,” Gaz voice pours in through the speakers.

Never in his life, has John let out the biggest sigh of relief.

***

You hear Gaz’s word through the plastic in your ear and start laughing, you laugh at the thought of losing your life a second ago.

“Gaz, you fucker, I don’t know whether to kiss you or kill you,” you let your voice take over the comms.

***

It’s been half a day since Gaz took down the person behind the distorted voice.

Turns out the voice belongs to the best friend of the main man you wanted info on, but thanks to Gaz, you don’t have to worry about much in the moment.

The helicopter touches down so cleanly it takes you out of your train of thought.

Soap pats you knee and gives a friendly smile before hopping out, and you do the same.

The duffle bag digs into your shoulder as you tap away at your phone, recollecting every single aspect of the mission. It’s your thing, to nitpick a mission after you’re done with it.

You finally look up and make eye contact with a specific pair of cold blue eyes.

You stutter in your step as you watch him take off the familiar boonie at the sight of you. You nod at him in politeness (as much politeness could be covered in a sergeant and captain relationship) before turning and walking away.

***

You body just sinks into the sofa, and you sigh.

“Yup, definitely needed this,” you adjust the strap of your tank top and tug at the hem of your shorts to prevent the incoming wedgie.

You grab your bucket of ice cream and spoon off from your coffee table and resume the show you mindless put on.

But before you could press play, there’s a knock on your apartment door.

You groan at feeling off your relaxation being taken away at the last moment.

You set your things on the table again and get up to walk to your front door.

At this point you want to tell the person to ‘piss off’, and that is the plan when you open the door.

But when you open door, there are no words coming from you.

The 6 foot something man stands with his head dipped and his eyes solemn on you, the bouquet of your favourite tulips in his hands don’t even hold your attention.

It was his eyes.

The eyes that belonged to John Price.

🎀🎀🎀

Hey Lovelies!

Here we are babygirls, the first fic for my delicious and yummy man, John Price.

Legit was inspired by that one scene in Scandal, legit Tom Goldwyn is so hot like a DILF 😌.

Also, don't mind the diabolical amount of mistakes, this is a result of my doom-scrolling and a bit of late-night urge for productivity.

Lemme know if you wanna be tagged!

Also....

Lemme know what y'all think!

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[acid-ixx]

(masterlist &. synopsis) gn! chronically ill reader with a platonic! yandere batfam who accepts their pampering

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: sorry for the on and off hiatus ^^ i am very much invested in dc and altho i have only read a few comics, i try to be very close to canon with this one. this was written with POTS in mind but the illness is vague for the purpose of inclusivity !! requests will be open soon enough once i fix my account up and add request rules. keep in mind, the reason why i would be posting separate headcanons is because i plan for each of them to be longer than usual.

just imagine life with platonic! yandere batfam after their initial kidnapping. they've abducted you after a few months of stalking, gathering every bit of information about you from either the long or short times you've talked to them, or from watching you from afar at your most vulnerable state inside your very much hidden-camera-free apartment (lies. they have cameras implanted in every crevice of your room and even tampered with security cameras in the entire building just to ensure ultimate surveillance for you!)— it may be illegal, sure, no kidding it is, but they promise it's for your safety (and well-being) and nothing else! (other than the fact that they needed to know everything about you to guarantee your permanent stay with them would be stress-free and enjoyable not only in their eyes but yours too, especially since you require more needs than the average person but, ah! you just perfectly captured the attention of the most capable people who would bend the rules of the universe just for you.

everything was very much an elaborate scheme to get you to easily submit to their whims without a single fibre of fight in your bones. they have your entire room set up; ones with the comfiest sheets, a room where fresh, unpolluted air is accessible through baby-proofed windows— and you can even keep your (hacked) phone to call them whenever you need something. really, you have everything you need! all you have to do is accept their proposal... though, they wouldn't mind being patient either way.

what they didn't know was that they didn't even need to go through so much effort to keep you from escaping. hell, it's like the moment your eyes blink the tiredness away, and your brain registers the entirely new (and bigger) space you were in, it's like you merely accepted your fate.

you're creepily greeted with almost the exact same copy of your room, except the blanket you know and love with the same color, same design, same smell doesn't feel, or much less have the same texture as your previous blanket. in fact the fabric is way more high quality, the texture doesn't overstimulate you as much as the sheets you were used to back at home. the lights aren't as bright, in fact it was a welcoming shade that blends in well with the natural light that floods through the windows— windows that welcome in the faintest scent of floral growth, fresh and unlike the polluted air of gotham that you were never accustomed to.

before you could even force your body to sit up, joints a tad bit heavier and your mind cloudier than before, a soft knock disrupts your train of thought. the door opens and you are greeted with a butler and... even stranger, bruce wayne with his other children in tow.

[loganhowlettshousewife]

lazy mornings and the proposal

animal - bonus headcanons

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

i wanted to let everyone know that even with the epilogue coming out soon and the series being officially over, i'm still not ready to let go of these two. so if you have any ideas or prompts or questions about feral!logan feel free to submit an ask!

warnings: mentions of sex, light sweat kink (oops)

series masterlist │my masterlist

there’s nothing better than a lazy morning with logan, staying in bed long past sunrise, chasing the warmth that can be found in each others arms. it’s rare, these days, now that he’s gotten a job as a lumberjack and has to be up fairly early most mornings for work, making sure to wake you before he leaves, kissing you deeply and reminding you that he loves you. gone are the days where the two of you would stay home together, locked in your own little world with no one to bother you.

he’d wanted - no, he’d needed, really- to get a job. it gave him something to do with his days, a purpose other than stalking your every move, following behind you like a shadow as you went about your day. it’s a distraction, and a welcome one, one that gives him the opportunity to be a more balanced version of himself, to find peace and trust that you aren’t going to disappear if he leaves you out of his sight for more than a few seconds.

he brings home a decent paycheck, much more than you were making by selling the extra produce from your garden. it’s unnecessary, everything you own had once belonged to your grandparents and has long been paid off, but it’s nice to have the extra cash, to be able to go into town with logan and splurge on expensive alcohol for him and gorgeous new dresses for you.

he’s good at what he does, hacking away at wood with his unnatural strength given to him by his mutation. he’s the best at what he does, to the point where you occasionally worry it’s become too obvious that he’s not like the others, but he always comes home safe.

the smell of wood and sweat cling to him like a second skin and you bury your face in his neck, understanding his obsession with doing the same to you, loving the way the smell of him surrounds you, makes you feel like he’s the only thing in the world. maybe it should be gross, he’s exerted himself all day and is covered by the proof of it, but there’s something about it that makes you melt into him every time.

he takes off his muddy shoes and picks you up, ignoring your squeal of protest at the unexpected gesture, smirks when you wrap your legs around his waist. he brings you into your bedroom to take the stress of his day out on your body or into the bathroom where you run your hands over his bare skin and wash away anything that isn’t your loving touch. either way, the tension leaves him the moment he’s returned to you, able to recognise that you’re safe.

you love the life you’ve built, the ease and comfort of it, and yet those lazy mornings, so few and far between, are still your favourite. the days where logan doesn't have to go into work and you push back your daily chores for later because you would much prefer to stay snuggled up in bed, laughing as he kisses your neck and bare shoulders, twinning your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

the night he proposes starts off like any other. he returns home from work to the smell of dinner in the oven, takes you apart under the warm stream of water from the showerhead beating down on your skin, lets you wash away the grime from his body and dig your hands into the tense muscles of his back, massaging away the day’s activities. he melts into you, letting you care for him in a way he’d never let anyone else, and you smile beatifically.

when you exit the shower, it’s to the sound of the oven timer going off, announcing that the dinner you’d prepared for the two of you is ready. you hardly notice when logan doesn’t follow you out of the bathroom and into the kitchen as usual - some days he returns from a long day on the job and refuses to leave your side, on others he needs moments of solitude peppered in to keep the overstimulation at bay.

he stops in your shared bedroom as you plate the food, giving logan double your portion size as usual.

his body requires more energy to function, his healing factor taking a lot out of him. it’s not something logan ever noticed, since he doesn’t bother to worry about his own health most of the time, but you see the way it affects him when he doesn’t eat the way he should. it’s horribly taxing on his body, making his veins protrude from his skin in harsh lines, a reminder that no matter how easy it is to ignore it when looking at his muscular and imposing stature, his body is still starving.

you’ve made it your mission to feed him, and so you narrow your eyes into a glare until he finishes his plate, leaning over afterwards to kiss the annoyance from your lips, muttering praises and thanks that have your skin tingling and face feeling hot. 

he’s healthier now, a layer of fat covering his muscles, a softness to his body that wasn’t there before. it’s something you pride yourself on, the knowledge that you’re taking good care of him.

he doesn’t talk much throughout dinner, though he never does. you tell him about the latest book you’ve started reading, going back and forth on whether or not you’re truly enjoying it, complaining about the characters personalities while raving about the writing style. it makes logan smile, watching you be so passionate.

he gives you a few vague sentences about his day at work when you press him about it. “it’s not that interesting,” he says, the same excuse he gives every day. occasionally, he’ll have some gossip to share about the men he works with, his enhanced hearing allowing him to listen to their conversations without being forced to partake in them, but not today. “would much rather listen to you talk, darlin’.”

with desert in front of you and a peaceful lull in they conversation he takes your hand, kisses the back of it with his slightly chapped lips before getting down on one knee and pulling out the ring he’d bought a few weekends ago while you perused the farmer’s market stalls. it’s not big or flashy, the night is hardly out of the ordinary in any way, but it’s perfect. your eyes prick with tears that you attempt to hold back but fall anyway the moment you blink.

this is what makes yours and logan’s relationship, the understanding that there’s no need to be anything but yourselves, that as long as he’s here promising to love you forever, pleading you to do the same, there’s nothing else that could come close to matching the joy in your heart as you say yes.

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams @babey-fruit-bat @meetmypointlessaddiction @kneelforloki @deaky-with-a-c @hypermarvellove @littlepeanut03 @the-ruler-of-death @aliengutzstuff @misscrissfemmefatale @mynamesstevenwithav @teaganthemorningstar @blackkatzz @leryg0 @fries11 @forksloree @i5uckersblog @dragovegogrimborn @quillycrow @melday0105 @just-a-little-cellist @scorpiosaintt @akasha157-blog @insanesosciopath @eridektbh @trickstergabriel69 @lord-bingus666

[lilyprettyremy]

How to Thrive This Winter❄️✨

Brrr, baby, it’s cold outside! But don’t worry—cold weather doesn’t have to mean boring layers and dry skin. It’s time to cozy up, glow up, and own the winter like the stylish snow angel you are. Let’s dive into some fabulously fun and ultra-practical tips for thriving when it’s freezing!

1. Layers, but Make It Fashion!

Think of layering as your chance to create a Pinterest-worthy winter look. Start with thermal basics (cute ones, obviously), add a soft knit sweater, and top it off with a statement coat. Don’t be afraid to mix textures—wool, velvet, and fleece are winter’s dream team.

Style Hack: Belt your oversized coat for a snatched look and pair it with earmuffs for retro-cute vibes!

2. Keep Those Tootsies Toasty

Cold feet? Ew, no. Treat your toes to fleece-lined socks or those fluffy slipper socks that feel like heaven. Bonus points if they’re pastel pink or covered in sparkles. Waterproof boots are a must, but why not go for ones with faux fur trim? Practical AND adorable.

Pro Tip: Grab mini hand warmers for your boots on extra chilly days—they’re a lifesaver!

3. Moisturize, Hydrate, Repeat

Winter is out here trying to steal your glow, but we’re not letting it win. Upgrade to a thicker moisturizer and keep lip balm on hand (hello, peppermint-flavored kisses). Hydrate from the inside too—water, herbal teas, and broths will keep your skin dewy and fresh.

Cutie Tip: Carry a mini face mist in your bag for a quick hydration boost that also smells divine.

4. Hot Drinks = Warm Soul

Coffee, hot cocoa, chai lattes—whatever warms your heart, make it cute! Add marshmallows, whipped cream, or even a cinnamon stick for that extra flair. And don’t forget a mug that matches your vibe—sparkly, pastel, or maybe even a personalized one?

Pro Idea: Try a "hot chocolate bar" night with friends. Think toppings galore and the coziest vibes ever.

5. Cozy Up Your Space

Your home is your winter wonderland. Think fairy lights, chunky blankets, and candles that smell like sugar cookies or pine forests. There’s no such thing as too cozy in the winter!

Mood Boost: String some faux ivy or flowers around your mirror for a dreamy winter garden vibe.

6. Winter Proof Your Hair

Cold air can be harsh on your locks, so show them some extra love. Use a leave-in conditioner and silk scrunchies to keep frizz at bay. Also, hats are a must—but make it chic with a beret or pom-pom beanie!

Hair Flair: Add a touch of glitter spray to your hair for winter nights out—because you deserve to sparkle.

7. Move Your Booty (Even When It’s Cold)

Winter is prime snuggle season, but don’t forget to move! Indoor yoga, dance sessions to your fave playlist, or even a brisk walk in the snow will warm you up and lift your mood.

Motivation Tip: Treat yourself to cute workout gear that doubles as loungewear—because who says comfy can’t be stylish?

8. Channel Your Inner Snow Queen

Winter is all about finding magic in the small things. Go ice skating, snap aesthetic snow pics, or cozy up with a rom-com marathon. Romanticize your life, babe—you’re the main character!

Vibes: Picture yourself twirling in the snow with a fluffy scarf, latte in hand. Dreamy, right?

Winter isn’t just a season—it’s your chance to shine in layers, cozy corners, and all the warm drinks your heart desires. So grab your fuzzy socks, fluffiest blanket, and make this cold weather your most stylish and comfy era yet!

What’s your go-to winter survival tip? Share it below, and let’s spread the cozy vibes!

[lovifie]

Chapter 1: Bite 🕸️

Ghost x Spiderwoman!Reader

2667 words

You were the new member of the 141, Laswell's own recommendation. But even Price, who would trust Laswell with his life, had second thoughts about you joining. 

You were a scrawny, half-blind, way too young girl. The last person Price would have picked for the team. 

“Let them show you, John. You need her to hack and collect the intel. She can't take a grown man down, but she's a decent shot.”

So he let you join, most of the time you felt like a child; constantly being told to walk close between two of them or it would be the complete opposite and they would tell you to stay hidden taking advantage of your tiny size. 

Ghost was the one that liked you the least, he already worried about the whole team making it back home safe and they were able to fend for themselves. You? You were like a puppy, walking between their feet almost making them fall all the time, and still, you looked fucking delighted to be in the way. Ghost hated how happy you seemed to be all the time, hated how unaware of the danger you seemed to be, and he hated that he was unable to ignore how much he cared you got back safe.

But there was a thing he hated more than anything. 

Superheroes.

The 141 was one of the few task forces that still existed, in many places arguing that they were no longer needed since now there were superheroes. And the hatred the population already had for the military only got worse. 

Plus, even though Simon never joined the military to get famous, it still rubbed him the wrong way when they would go on a mission, fight for days, lose friends, and only for a random superhero to arrive when everything was almost finished and take all the glory. 

He hated them all their life, and he always wondered why people liked them so much when he was home any of them came to save him, his mom or his brother. He always hoped one would save him, but they never did. 

So both Simon and Ghost hated superheroes.

All of them. 

So when they got the intel that a lab was working on creating new superheroes, he didn't need any more convincing and started getting ready.

The five of you walked along the rows and rows of animals captive inside the lab. Luminescent fish, shielded beetles, poisonous snakes, all the kinds. Ready to be experimented with, just for selfish humans wanting to be heroes. 

“Keep walking, kid” Price mumbled behind you, making you peel your eyes away from the different fish bowls and terrariums. “Alright. Kid, you stay in this room and look around if you can find any document or proof. The four of us will go down the hall, there are some lights on, see if we can find anyone.”

You nod, already used to being left alone, and walk around the office, pushing your glasses up when they slide down your nose as you look down at the desks. Lab records of failed attempts, codified names of patients, data of the genome of the different animals they used, by the look of all of them they have been trying for years. Poor animals.

It is at that point, while you are reading the information of the different animals, that you feel a sharp pain in your lower back, right over your ass check. 

“Fuck!” You mumble, the sound reaching the team's ears through the intercom and making them still in their moves. 

You turn around, expecting to see somebody stabbing you. But you are still alone and when you look at the point the pain came from, you only see a tiny spider. 

“Fucking perfect.” You groan to yourself as you slap the spider off your body, but once again it reaches the rest of the team.

“Kid, what the fuck are you doing?” Price asks, the team still immobile waiting for your explanation. 

“Nothing, sir. Keep going.” You say, not wanting to jeopardise the mission. Part of you gets offended by how they automatically keep going without another care, but the actual logical part of you starts to panic because you just got bitten by a spider from a lab that tries and makes superhumans. 

You frantically try to find some kind of information about said spider in the files on top of the desk, almost crying when you find it and read: “Not poisonous.” 

Shots and screams can be heard from the end of the hall and you know you don't have time to read the whole file. So you snatched it, shoving it under your vest, just in time for the first people to come running out. 

“Kid! Don't engage in combat! I repeat, don't engage!” Price's voice barks in your ear.

“Roger that!” You quickly answer, hiding under the desk and holding your breath as people run around you. One of them stopped right beside you and frantically shoved around the papers just like you were doing a moment ago. 

“Shit! Shit! Shit! It's gone! The spider is gone! The file too! FUCK!” The person next to you screams, only adding to your ongoing anxiety about being bitten. 

“Leave it!” A second voice shouts getting closer. “Leave everything and run! They are activating the system! This shit is about to get blown to bits! Run!” 

The second they are far enough to grab the radio to talk to the team. “Captain! They are blowing up the lab! We need to get out!” 

“Take as much info as you can and run, kid! The door is locked, we are going out the other way, we can see the exit! Meet us at pick up!” The Captain quickly shouted back.

“What?!” You ask back. “You were leaving me here?!” 

You can make out what he says, but you stand up to look around. You need to take something with you, even if it is only to hit them with it. 

There is a laptop on top of the desk, so you grab it along with as many files as you can bring. Sprinting to the door, the workers of the lab already out of the place, way more lucky than you. The halls inside are an absolute maze, and the only thing you have to guide you out are the blood marks of those who got out before you. 

Just when you see the outside, the helo in the distance hovering just half a meter off the floor, you hear the beep beep beeeep of a countdown going off. Only managing to put a foot outside of the door, before the blast wave sends you flying forward, your glasses flying away from you. Clutching the laptop as if it were your own life, especially taking into consideration that your “team” would be more worried about it. 

Your ears ring when you open your eyes again, a buzzing sound in the background coming from the helicopter. Gaz on the open door calling your name, enough to get back on your feet and keep running; the man picks you up from your vest and takes you inside before closing the door. 

You leave the laptop on the floor, files scattering around as well as you sit on the floor, back resting against the wall, hugging your legs as you try to get your breath back. 

Gaz is looking at you worried, Soap is beside you tidying up the files, Ghost flying the helicopter and Price is behind Gaz, staring at you. 

You can't help it back look back at him with anger in your eyes, he was ready to leave you behind if you didn't get out on your own and he didn't even tell you. Suddenly feeling like your biggest ally today was the terrorist who told his colleague. 

The ringing in your eyes slowly fades away, the sound of the helicopter sounding more and more clear. 

“You solid, kid?” Price's voice sounds over the rotating blades. 

“Yeah… not thanks to you, though.” You say, mumbling the last part, pissed about it. Price chooses to ignore it, for the sake of the peace. Only giving you a look of “We'll talk later.”

By the time you reach the base, you are burning up. Every time you close your eyes being harder to open them back up, your whole body feels on fire and you're feeling pain in places you didn't even know you could. 

You should go to the infirmary, but then they would see the spider bite and it would make sense that they would want to leave you behind, or at least that's the reasoning behind your decision to instead go to your room and sleep it off. 

Or at least you would if the pain wasn't keeping you awake, you turn around in bed trying to find a comfy position failing and failing again and again. Still, at some point, it must have knocked you out because the knocking on the door wakes you up. 

The sun is out and the fever seems to be gone, so you stand up, groaning because of the residual pain and walk up to the door, opening it. Coming face to face with Ghost. 

“Morning, soldier” He greets, no kind of emotion in his voice and you can't see his face. “You skipped dinner last night and breakfast this morning, we don't need you any skinnier.”

Just then you take notice of the paper bag on his hand and the water bottle on the other. You try to use the hand that is still holding the doorknob, only to realize that it seems to be stuck to it. You furrow your eyebrow, which doesn't go unnoticed by Ghost; and you point to the table with your other hand. 

“Can you leave it there, please?” You ask, still trying to get your other hand free as you open the door more so he can come in. 

He enters the room, dropping the food on the table and turning to you with crossed arms. “Are you alright?” He asks, still confused with the way you seem to not be able to let go of the door, pulling back with all your body weight.

“Peachy.” You grunt back, your hand finally detaching from the knob and almost sending you to the floor as the door bust open hitting the wall. “A weird cramp, that's all.”

He nods slowly, walking away from the table and closer to the door. “You sure you are fine? You flew quite some meters yesterday… you lost your glasses.” He points to your face

Until he mentions it you haven’t realise because you can see perfectly fine; even better than before when you were wearing them. You furrow your brow, rubbing your eyes as if to get the bad eyesight back by pure force and you look at him, still seeing better than ever. 

“Yeah… they flew yesterday, I'll get new ones.” You say, still confused by it. He nods, telling you about letting Price know so he can give you the money back and starts to walk out of the door, turning back and rubbing his face already dreading what he is about to do. “Oh, and, hey… good job, yesterday.” 

As he talks, he raises his fist for you to bump it. Which only adds to the confusion, he really must feel bad for leaving you behind yesterday. Still, the situation is so awkward it is causing you physical pain, so you bump his fist to get over with it and close the door with your feet when he leaves. 

Once alone in your room, you rub your face with frustration only for your fingertips to get stuck on your forehead. You stay paralyzed for a second, not understanding what is going on and trying to peel your hands away from your face. 

Your skin stings when you try to pull making you whence, understanding that you can't just pull. So you close your eyes, take a deep breath and quickly pull your hands as if you could catch it by surprise. You curse when it obviously doesn't work walking back, knocking the water bottle off the table, surprising yourself when your hands catch the bottle before it even rolls off the table.

Something tells you to look at your phone, and just when you do a message pops up. You focus all your senses on letting go of the bottle and it falls off your hands like normal, making you doubt if you really got stuck before. You look at your phone, using your knuckle to unlock it and tapping in the password to read Ghost's message.

💀: Debriefing in 20’

💀: Shower!

“Rude.” You think, knowing damn well that you stink for coming straight from the mission and spending the night sweating. You type back with your knuckle:

🕷️: rofer thar

“Shit… close enough” You lock the phone and take off your clothes to shower. Once on your underwear, you turn to look into the mirror the spider bite on your hip; only to see that your body is not the same as yesterday's. 

It looks like you gained at least 10 kilos of pure muscle, your biceps popping out, shoulders rounded out by muscle, thicker thighs that you know will not fit on your pants anymore, rounder ass and overall the athletic build of some kind of olympic athlete. 

The only mark on your skin being the bite, even some of your freckles are gone from your skin. The bite, on the other hand, looks terrible. Two little dark purple dots are visible, the surrounding red and angry and little lighting-like red lines go out of it, going up your back and around your hip. 

You take a deep breath and jump into the shower, using the back of your hands to do so, which only makes it trickier. Once washed, you look into your closet taking out the only clothes you believe will fit you. A pair of leggings that sit just a bit too tight and an oversized sweatshirt to cover as much as possible. 

You put on your shoes and walk to the captain's office; to your disgrace, the door is closed and you knock. You hear, as if it was right behind you, a “C’mon in”. But you don't want to risk it getting stuck, so you play dumb and knock again. Ghost opens the door and comes face to face with you again, much closer than in your room and you see his eyebrow furrow 

“Have you gone on a growth sprout in the last 20 minutes?” He asks, confusion clear in his tone. “And are you wearing makeup?”

You realize that the freckles on your face must have banished too, plus the fact that the bags under your eyes seemed to be gone as well last time you checked. 

“No. Must be the shoes.” You answer, walking under his arm inside the room feeling his eyes travel down your body. You sit down next to Gaz, looking at Price as Ghost closes the door and sits down, still looking at you. 

“First thing first.” The captain says clearing his throat. “Great job yesterday, you can work on the laptop whenever you want, kid. And also, good job for the heads-up about the bomb.” 

“You didn't know?” You ask, confused by his words.

He shakes his head. “We were wondering why everyone was running out, we tried to go back to you and the gates were blocked, we were suspicious of it but you confirmed it.”

You nod your head slowly, taking it in.“All set, then, right?” He asks looking at the four others. “If you are still mad you can say it, I don't want my team keeping their thoughts in only for them to explode in the middle of the mission. Is there anything you want to say, kid?”

[reeniecon]

-levels of possessiveness-

Include malleus draconia, lilia vanrouge, rook hunt, kalim al asim and Jamil Viper

‼️⚠️ : gn!Reader,I haven't proof read it yet, mentions of chapter 7 npc's names on lilias part, might be come out as yandere tendencies than possessiveness...

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- kalim al asim -

• I know some of you gonna disagree with me, BUT HEAR ME OUT OKAY

• since he was a little kid he always get what he wanted right?

• why wouldn't get this one ?

• YOU GET THE IDEA RIGHT HEHEHEHE

• hm? Oh u want to go out by urself? No way hahahah, take jamil with you~ or u want me to accompany you?

• Ooooo waitt sweety dont do the chores :(( ur hand will get hurt by that, just let the maid do it for you okayy?? Oh you felt sorry for him?? For working alone? oh dont worry baba(father) will recuit the maids tmr hhe

- jamil Viper -

• this one are not very surprising

• jamil didn't really get the chance to have something in life that really his on the first place

• so, when he finally did and someone are trying to take it away from him he get really possessive over it

• he can protect kalim all the time so... He faced by almost 0 problem trying to protect you

" Jamil.. What is that?? Can we get that? " You asked him

" I can make more healthier version of it at home, are you okay with that dear? " He speak " And uh...look, dear the cooking oil that there using, it's already black soo that mean they have been using it multiple time without changing it, I wouldn't want you to eat that not-very-healty oil I'm I?" He carefully explains to you

You can sigh to him " Okay... "

" Good, let's head back I'll make it for you" He smiled sweetly to you

- lilia vanrouge -

• lmao do I need to explain??

• he is a fae

• and already lived a long life

• he knows the pain of losing people he loved dearly mallenoa.. Malleus mother and malleus father...

• so naturally he didn't want to get hurt by that feeling again of course.

• that's why he get very possessive of you

• if you're a long lived creature you might see him be not so possessive towards you because he knows he had a lot of time to spend with you.

• BUT, if you're a human... He *sigh* yeah you know the rest

" My dearie" Lilia calls for you

" Where have youve been?? " He added

" Oh, lilia I just got back from heartslabyul actually, just meet adeuce " You explain while giggling

" Hm, why lying my dear" He glares to you, while flying closer to you

" What.. No what do you mean Lilia! " You panic a little bit because what he just say to you

"Fufu.. My lovely dear... Don't lie to me okay? I know everything going on in your life " He say gently while He stroke your hair

- malleus draconia -

• HE IS A DRAGON.

• dragon are KNOWN to be a possessive creature sooo what makes you think he is any different

• he probably lock u up somewhere if he want to lmao

• not only a normal dragon but he is a dragon with POWERS he is the crowns prince to the Briar valley soooo

• he basically can do whatever he wants lol

• good luck if you catches his eyes lmao he might never let you go until your funeral, keyword MIGHT

- idia shroud -

• aaa this wired boy

• lacking basic human interaction and affection wwww

• in my eyes he would either be

• no please don't leave me boy or don't leave me or ill kms / destroy all of it

• WOULD STALK U, he probably hack into the campus CCTV just to check what are you doing currently

• asking ortho to follow you and assist you with everything you need

• would probably sends anonymous deaths threats to any guy who are flirting with you

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More of my fics

An : I'm kinda ashamed by this lol, but Ill post it anw, I'll add more in the future but this is it for now 😂😂😂