#because he didn't want anything on his record?

[bunny-jpeg]

let me see that smile

mark webber

tags: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, sugar daddy!mark, age gap (20s/48), dirty talk, videos/recording, pillow humping, daddy kink, masturbation, filthy (!!!)

a/n: filthy, ka-chow!

you: miss you, daddy <3 mark: i know, be home soon. keeping the bed warm. you: of course! mark: how are you feeling? you: i'm kinda sad today :( mark: hopefully that gives you something to smile about, princess.

the next notifcation was that he had deposited twelve hundred dollars into you account with a note that read, "daddy's been missing you, can you give him something to get through the next few days?" anyone could see that you were mark webber's spoiled princess. but you thought that was fine, because you spoiled him in return.

mark webber was your older sugar daddy, close to fifty years old he quite enjoyed having someone younger to sink his teeth into. and you enjoyed the attention of an older man who would do anything to make you smile. and with the money securely in your account, you got to work.

he didn't pay for sex, that felt sleazy. he paid for your attention, your time, your company; it just happened that sex was part of it too. he loved you in cute lingerie and with a cunt for of silicone toys. even when mark wasn't fucking you directly, he held the keys to your release. you didn't cum unless you got permission.

you changed into nothing but a small cotton pair of panties and one of mark's t-shirts and set up your phone camera in front of the bed. you smiled a little bit as you started the recording. you knelt on the bed and giggled a little as you pulled the shirt up to expose your panties. you sighed dramatically, "i miss you, it's not fair that you had to go all the way to italy without me." you rolled your hips a little bit and you groped your breasts through the fabric of your shirt, "leave me all alone here. it's not fair." you knew that mark would get off to it.

mark liked when you whined, when you bitched and moaned until he got to shut you up. either with some money in your wallet, a purchase you wanted or his cock in your mouth. you played with your breasts some more and huffed, "i'm not a dog that you keep at home while you go away." as if you didn't have a choker (read: collar) that you wore when you left the house. you eventually rubbed your pussy over your cotton panties and let a damp spot form as your moans got a little louder. the house you lived in with mark was secluded, you could be as loud as your little heart desired.

you sent the first video with the caption, "hugs and kisses." before you got the shirt and panties off and started the next recording. you grabbed his pillow and shoved it in your face as you rolled your hips against nothing. you felt excitement brew through you as your anticipated what was to come. you moaned into the pillow and rubbed it up against your breasts until your nipples got hard. you gasped into it before you put it between your legs.

you humped the pillow like an eager little pillow. your mouth hung up and your eyes on the camera lens as the fabric rubbed against your clit. you felt the sensation up against your body, it felt good. there was something about how you moved your body that made your body feel flustered. you whined, "please, daddy. at least bring me back something nice from italy. you know i always loved it there. we could've spent the whole weekend in bed, fuck sky news." you giggled as you planted your hands on the bed under you and really worked your needy cunt up against his pillow. you soaked the top of the pillow case with your wetness as the fire of lust burned in your belly.

"fuck, daddy. i need you, i need you so badly. can you please give me permission to cum today? you didn't let me yesterday and i had to edge myself for almost an hour so i could go to sleep! i know it's not the same as that big cock of yours. but going without orgasms is like going without water!" you humped the pillow a little faster and dug your fists into the covers as you felt the pleasure leap through you.

you thought of him, you thought of his hands on you. you thought of how good it would feel to have his lips on your neck. to bite at your tender breasts or lick across your needy pussy. you had a habit of believing that mark ruined all other men for you. no one else could be as addicting as him.

mark had a certain charm about him that drove you crazy. you wanted him often, it didn't help your raging lust for older men. men with big hands and charming smiles, the kind that liked to spoil you and made you sexually needy. fuck did mark make you needy.

you knew that he'd come back and take proper care of you. mark wasn't one to leave his toys unattended for too long. especially ones with such expensive taste, you could already imagine the gift from italy that was waiting in his suitcase. you continued to rub your needy clit against the pillow, soaking it with your wetness. you wished he was lapping at your sex, his fingers pleasuring you on top of it.

"i can't wait for you to come home to me, daddy. i can't wait to have you in bed with me again. i've been thinking about you while i've been here all alone. i know you said i could have friends over, but i'd rather you fuck me until i can take your cum in the back of my throat. i'm needy without you." you whined a little louder as the pleasure zapped through your body. your clit felt stimulated from the soft pillow.

you knew you would change the cover after, but knowing mark he'd want you to keep it on so he could get a good smell of it when he got home. he said there was nothing more intoxicating to him than the smell of you wet cunt.

you were getting close, you had permission to cum by virtue of you sending him a video. he didn't want to leave you too needy, or else you might get desperate. you continued to hump like a sweet little angel and the pillow between your legs was a cloud. you could already imagine what mark was up to. where he was and how he'd feel when he saw the video.

"please, daddy! come home soon! i need it! i need you!" you whined as your entire body tensed up and you came with the pillow between your thighs. your core throbbed and your pussy wetness properly stained the pillowcase. you slowed down your movements until you placed both hands on the mattress to steady yourself. you panted loudly in the quiet of the bedroom.

you looked to the camera and smiled brightly with heat in your face. you said between heavy breaths, "thank you, daddy. i can't wait till you get home." before you went from the phone on the stand to send to mark.

soon the videos were sent and you got into a new pair of panties. the old pair and the pillowcase were thrown in the wash for later. you went to go grab some water as you waited for his response.

but it came rather quick and you almost choked on the water when all you got in response was a picture of mark's hand grasped around his cock. soon after there was a text that read, "there's that smile, angel. forgot how noisy you were in bed, but that's alright. when daddy comes home, he'll keep that mouth of yours full." <3

[sakuraodango]

a prisoner of love - chapter 2

pairing: reader (heroine) x caleb tags: smut, noncon/dubnon, manipulation, gaslighting, toxicity, imprisonment, drug use, underaged sex (which is consensual), dom/sub elements, and many more. warnings will be noted at the top of every chapter if featured. please read with caution. mdni. summary: a what if story in "Homecoming Wings" where you reunite with Caleb, but with smut and darker themes

warnings for this chapter!: extremely dubcon, manipulation, toxicity, imprisonment, forceful sex, yandere caleb

also available at A03!

Caleb walked through the hall of the Fleet headquarters. Coworkers and peers paused to greet Caleb as he walked by.

"Did you hear what happened?" A whisper from a nurse spoke.

"No, did something happened with the colonel?"

"You know how.. uhm, sometimes the higher ups use the prisoners for their own sexual thrills."

"That's a nice way of putting it.."

"Well anyways, usually the colonel stays out of it, but for the first time he did it to someone! And I hear he's personally taking care of her himself!"

"Se-seriously?! We have a record of what happened right?!"

"We did, but when I tried to find it, it had already been deleted! It's such a shame because the colonel is so attractive…"

"Oh, I should've been there.. How I would kill to see the colonel in such a state."

~~~

The sun hit your eyes, waking you up. You felt your body sore, especially your wrists and legs… You were so tired.. Your bed felt different than usual, it was soft and comfortable. But..

You sat up from bed. You weren't home in Linkon, you were in Skyhaven. You weren't in the interrogation room anymore, you were in a room that was suited to your tastes. The bed reminded you of your old bed you had before at home. Even the pillows felt the same. The same blanket and the vanity was the same. It was a new vanity, but it was the same model as you had before.

You saw you wearing pjs in the mirror beside the closet, Caleb must've changed you. You blushed at that thought, he remembered your size and what color you liked?! He's such a pervert!

"…" A picture of you, Caleb and grandma stood on the shelf. You reached out to touch the picture and sighed deeply. You barely had pictures because of your house getting destroyed, how did Caleb keep one of these?

"..are you awake?"

You turned to the door, seeing Caleb approaching you slowly. He slightly opened the door and was also wearing pjs, it looked like a matching pair to yours.

"Caleb, I want answers." You were confused, at everything that's happening.

"Come eat some breakfast at least, I made some bacon and eggs. You want juice?"

You nodded. Caleb gave a small smiled at you cooperating with him. He didn't want to force you to do anything (pretty hypocritical Caleb…). This was Caleb's apartment, you thought as you walked out of the room you were in. It smelled like him, his personality shined with the dark colors and homey feel.

It reminded you of the house you once shared with Caleb and grandma.

"I know it's a heavy breakfast, but you need the energy. You slept the whole time after yesterday." Caleb sat a plate in front of you. He poured orange juice for you and sat it beside your plate.

"Thank you for the meal." You enjoyed the taste of Caleb's cooking. It was simple eggs and bacon, but Caleb made the eggs how you liked it. The sunny side up eggs that had two black sesame seeds as eyes, perfectly runny and cooked. The bacon was crispy and thick.

"I know you have a lot of questions, how about we start with this one first." Caleb sat across from you. "Hello pipsqueak, I'm Caleb. It's nice to meet you."

Although he was smiling, Caleb's smile felt empty. It was his usual trained smile so you wouldn't worry about him. When you were younger, you wouldn't had noticed, but as you grew older and began to learn how Caleb would hide everything from you with that smile. You wanted to see him happy, but not like this. You couldn't force yourself to smile at him like he was doing.

"..how are you alive? I saw the house blow up with my own eyes Caleb, I.. I don't understand."

"It's…complicated."

Caleb's eyes fell, as the corners of his lips. He sighed before pushing the glass of orange juice to you.

"Drink, your throat must be dry." How does he know?

You looked at the orange juice suspiciously. Is it drugged..?

"Don't worry, I didn't do anything this time. Everything is stored securely at the Fleet headquarters anyways. You're safe here, pipsqueak."

You picked up the glass and took a sip. It tasted normal. So you continued eating and drinking.

"You still haven't answered me Caleb. What… happened?"

Seeing you weren't backing down, Caleb finally decided to be honest with you.

"..I don't really remember. After the explosion, it was like a dream, to be honest. When I woke up, I assumed it had to be related to the Aether core." Caleb reached out to you, patting your head when he saw your shocked expression. "Your secret is safe with me, you know I will never betray you."

Betray. He did.

You pushed Caleb's hand away, ignoring the look of hurt he had on his face and slammed your hands down on the table.

"I don't want to hear excuses Caleb." For the first time in your life, you shouted angrily towards Caleb. "Where's grandma?!"

"…" The little light that Caleb had in his eyes fell, as he wiped the orange juice that fell on the table. "..I couldn't protect the both of you."

You wanted to believe she survived, if Caleb survived. But Caleb was telling the truth. It was a miracle he lived, but grandma… It was clear she did not. You fell back to your seat, tears falling from your eyes.

"Why… Why didn't you come find me?"

"It wasn't time yet."

"What do you mean?!"

"If I had found you that time, I would have been abandoned."

"What do you mean abandoned?" You didn't understand what Caleb was trying to say.

"It's…a long, long story, pipsqueak. I.. I-I can't really say."

"Caleb.."

Silence fell between the two of you. You looked down to your plate. At least some of your questions were answered. A lot had happened between the time you and Caleb were separated. While it was hard for you, it was also very hard for Caleb. The way Caleb was hesitating to tell you something, you decided to drop it. You'd come back to it later.

"..you need to eat too." You slid your plate closer to Caleb. "I lost my appetite."

You sat up to return to the room you came out of.

"Pipsqueak."

Caleb stood up and followed after you. He caught your arm before you could enter the room.

"I'm sorry."

You didn't want to look at Caleb. You forced Caleb to let go of your arm and closed the door.

You leaned against the door, before falling down. You held your legs close to your body, as you cried even more. The grief of losing your grandmother returned. Of course you were happy that Caleb was alive, but..

Yesterday, was the first time you met Caleb after a long while. You had sex with him, in front of many cameras to who knows who was watching you two. And you were unfaithful to Zayne.

Oh Zayne…

You wanted to be in his warm embrace so badly, to believe what happened in the past day was just a bad dream. You didn't want Caleb to be dead for real, but you never expected this to happen. You looked around the room for any of your belongings. Caleb took your hunter's gun, maybe it was still with the Fleet. You couldn't find it anywhere in the room.

Where was your phone? It was in your pockets before Caleb ripped your clothes. There wasn't a phone, but in the room, there was a tablet. You turned it on and sighed in relief when it worked. As much as you wanted to stay with Caleb, you needed to return home. There was something off about Caleb, although he did seem to be the same Caleb you knew, but he was… Different.

The Caleb you loved once before wasn't there.

You logged into your messaging accounts and saw Zayne's chat logs. Zayne: You mentioned you were in Skyhaven? Do you want to meet up for dinner? I happen to be also visiting Skyhaven the same time as you.

Zayne: Are you off work? Don't work too hard, buy yourself some tea and macaroons.

Zayne: Is there something wrong? Are you okay?

You smiled. Zayne noticed you were in trouble. But how should you explain your current situation. You couldn't just tell Zayne that Caleb is suddenly alive. Especially, the intimate moment you both just had. But there was one thing you wanted to tell Zayne.

(f/n): I miss you.

Zayne: Where are you?

It was a second later Zayne immediately replied.

That was a good question. You knew you were in an apartment, Caleb's apartment. But where? There should be a share your location button in the messaging app, but before you could send Zayne your location.

The door to your room opened without a knock.

A force pushed down on you, pushing your body to the ground. You fell, the tablet falling to the side as you look up to see Caleb towering over you. He kneeled down to ground the tablet, reading the texts between you and Zayne.

"Don't-!" You tried to move, but with Caleb's gravity evol being stronger than your own strength, you were trapped down.

"You did mention you and Zayne were together yesterday." Caleb kneeled to your level. "It seems your relationship is very intimate. I've always knew Zayne had a crush on you."

Then Caleb broke the tablet. Your eyes widened as the pieces of the tablet fell onto the ground.

"Caleb! W-what the fuck!!" You shouted in anger.

"I'll buy you a new one later."

"How could you!"

Caleb's hand cupped your chin.

"Pipsqueak, this is for your own good. Do you think Zayne is on your side?"

You cowered under Caleb's cold stare.

"Don't you think Zayne is just using you?!"

"Zayne would never trap me like this!"

You bit Caleb's hand, causing him to fall backwards. His evol disappeared and you were released. You made the bold move to run towards the door and out the room. You ran towards the front door, unlocking the locks to open the door, when Caleb let out a small laugh.

The ominous feeling of the prey being hunted by the predator, as you heard Caleb chuckle quite darkly as he followed behind you, slowly. You tried to open the door, but it wouldn't open. Out of frustration, you hit the door with your hand.

"Why won't you open!" You shouted.

"Don't hurt your hand like that pipsqueak." Caleb stood right behind you, his chest touching your back.

He held your small fist in his hand and pinned you to the wall. You felt uncomfortable. Why was Caleb doing this?

"W-why..?" You cried, angry. "Who are you? What did you do to Caleb?!"

"..pipsqueak, I was like this from the start."

Caleb pulled you towards him, inhaling your scent. He missed your warmth and feel against his body.

You gasped when Caleb rubbed his harden cock against you.

"N-no, s-stop-" You tried to release yourself from Caleb, but he didn't let you go.

Caleb grabbed both your hands with one hand, pinning it to the door as his other spread your legs. Your butt came into contact with his crotch, him grinding against you. You bit your lips, trying to conceal your moans. While your mind thought of Zayne, your heart and body yearned for Caleb.

Afterall, Caleb was the first to take your virginity. He was your first love and has always been in your heart.

"You may be dating Zayne, but I knew you couldn't forget about me pipsqueak." Caleb moaned beside your ear. You whimpered from hearing his low and deep voice. It was very seductive and he was trying to woo you with his voice and words. Things he knew you loved. "Yesterday in the interrogation room, your body and pussy accepted me, didn't they?"

Caleb kissed your ear.

"Don't play hard to get, you know you want this."

You did. You hated how much Caleb knew you inside and out. He always knew what you were thinking. He knew where to find you when you were hiding. And he never does anything that would make you hate him.

~~~

"Ca-Caleb~" You tried to hold back your moans.

Caleb had you on the floor with your waist held up. Your hands was at his head, trying to push him away from your pussy, but he kept still, eating you out. His tongue flicked at your clit, sucking your slit folds and lightly thrusting his tongue into you. Caleb took off your underwear and your pencil skirt was pushing up, giving Caleb more access to your bare skin.

Caleb was hungry. It was like he was savoring his last meal. It had been took long since Caleb had you. He left you alone for a couple months and you fell into an embrace of another man. Caleb just had to win you back.

He had to remind you, who eats your pussy the best.

You whine when Caleb stopped. He took deep breaths, before going back to pleasure you.

Remind you, who knows you the most.

Caleb gave your pussy a long lick across. He loves watching you thrash around because of him.

Remind you, who this pussy belongs to.

You came, unable to hold yourself together. Caleb allowed your body to fall on the floor. You tried to crawl away from him, when Caleb grabbed your legs and pulled you towards him.

"N-no~" You shook your head, not wanting Caleb to get his way.

"Look at me, pipsqueak."

Caleb hovered over you, you met his eyes of longing and yearn. "I'm here with you this time." Caleb's purple eyes shined. This was your Caleb.

"…that's not fair, you can't come and go whenever you please." You weren't buying it.

You turned away from him, but that only made him chuckle. He slapped your ass, you freezing. And again, and again.

"!!!" You took a deep breath, turning to Caleb.

"You never listen to what I say, I should have just subjected to this. You love this, didn't you?" Caleb smacked your butt, your poor cheeks turning a little red. It wasn't painful, it was exciting. "You refuse me, but look how wet your little pussy is."

Caleb rammed his fingers into you.

"A-ah~" You moaned with how forceful and fast Caleb was going. His fingers thrusted deeply into you. Th-three fingers? N-no, i-it was four! Caleb was stretching you out for himself.

You had to get away (f/n).

If he sticks his cock into you, you'd break.

You moved forward-

"Oh, don't do that." Caleb grabbed your hips, pulling you back to him. "You're about to cum, aren't you? Going to cum again pipsqueak? You can do it."

You shook your head.

"N-not again~ i-it's too much..!" You pleaded with Caleb. "T-too much, Ca-Caleb, s-stop it~"

And you came. Caleb let you ride out your orgasm with his fingers never stopping. You let tears fall out of frustration. It felt so good, but so wrong.

You fell to the ground, Caleb's fingers falling out of you as you tried to catch your breath. Caleb took his fingers to his mouth and sucked on your juices.

"So sweet.." Your pussy gushed with how Caleb was sucking his fingers. You wanted him to suck on your pussy again.

No, (f/n)! Get a hold on yourself!

Caleb stood up and walked over to a cabinet. He pulled out some condom packets and returned to your side.

"Pipsqueak, don't worry, I got you."

You watched Caleb place the condom on his cock. Caleb groaned, preparing his cock for you.

"You can trust me. I'm always here for you."

His cock lined at your entrance.

Zayne…

You thought of Zayne as Caleb's cock entered you once again.

masterlist | lads masterlist | prisoner of love

[ikamigami]

DOCTOR HARLEY SAWYER IS ALIVE?

I know many of you think that Doctor is dead and the way he tried to convince us that Poppy is not as good as she may seem was just a desparate attempt to persuade us not to kill him. It could be this but it definitely didn't come from fear.

Doctor never showed fear even when he was threatened by Prototype. He actually never seemed to be scared of experiments even if it was reckless for staff and guards to go to them alone. He's not only egotistic but acts as if his experiments is what will save humanity. He seems to actually believe that this is true hence why he says something along the lines that if he isn't in the right what was the meaning of all of this? All the experiments, all the sacrifices would be for nothing. Also in his secret recording he said that he gives kids a purpose they wouldn't have normally. There's more to that recording but I'll talk about it in a different post.

Anyway, people could say that Doctor was desparate to show us that his mind is too important that his knowledge is too precious to lose. And even if this fits his character it contradicts with what was happening in his boss fight. People were surprised with how little damage Doctor's robots were causing to us. It almost looks like he didn't want to kill us. But why if he knew that we will kill him? Definitely not because he wanted to die like I saw a few people speculated. It wouldn't fit his character at all.

People think that he died blinded by his ego which could make sense if it wasn't for a fact that he saw what we're capable of and he didn't do his best to stop us from killing him.

The big advantage that Doc has is his intellect. We can see how good at observation he is. Harley was able to predict that Poppy will betray us and that our attempts to help will be fruitless. Everything Doctor told us was in reference of what was yet to come. And his last line drives the point home. "You saved no one."

Then again you could say that if Harley was played by higher-ups why he couldn't be played by us as well? The thing is that Sawyer is more than likely the most intelligent character in Poppy verse. Throughout whole ARG and even more in chapter 4 it was pointed out to us time and time again that Harley Sawyer is a genius. Hence why Elliot Ludwig felt bad about throwing Harley out from Young Geniuses Program and hence why higher-ups didn't kill him but put his mind into a computer.

So how Harley Sawyer ended up like that if he's such a genius? Well I think that he didn't expect them to turn him into one of experiments cause he knew that more than likely he'd lose his genius and he knew that Leith would never allow this to happen. Hence why Harley assumed his safe. But the thing is that they didn't turn him into a regular toy but put his mind into a computer.

But thanks to the fact that Doctor had his intellect still intact it meant that he's still the same genius he always was.

Now there's one thing that stood out to me but I didn't see people ever talking about which is how Prototype was able to do the Hour of joy without a help of someone who had access to things. Just like the warden at prison told Harley. Some people speculated it was Stella but I doubt that. Doctor said it was Prototype but the way he said his name sounded as if Harley knew about the Hour of joy way before.

I know that Doctor didn't have any access to anything before obtaining omni-hand but he still could see things but without having a way to do things. What if he was able to find a way to communicate with Prototype via monitors? We all assumed that Prototype was tampering with tapes and all but what if it was Harley actually? At that time we assumed it was Prototype cause we didn't know about Doctor yet. Also I don't know if any of you remember how Elliot's face was blocked or blurred on tapes? I think that Harley did that because he couldn't stand looking at Elliot's face. It's obvious as day that he hates Elliot with passion.

Another thing is that we know that Harley had something against Playtime Co. before he was turned into a computer due to Elliot's betrayal. It wouldn't be surprising if he wouldn't mind if the rest of higher-ups and rest of lab scientists would die because the only thing that was important for him was his intellect. As long as he'd survive nothing else mattered. And when he got betrayed by higher-ups I wouldn't be surprised if he decided to lead to their downfall.

But let's get to the point of this post. How Harley could still be alive? The most obvious hint is that he said his last line after we fried his brain which shouldn't be possibile.

Another thing is if he was digitalized in some way already why wouldn't he be able to transfer his consciousness into another device? He's a genius. He knows a lot about neurosurgery. I saw a few people saying that maybe Doctor transferred himself to omni-hand. It may sound crazy but he could transfer himself into the omni-chip. It makes sense when you consider that the last thing we used omni-hand for was opening labs which is a location Prototype didn't want Harley in. Which is some coincidence, huh? Also some people including myself heard Sawyer's laugh in the distance at the end of chapter.

My bold statement is that it'll turn out that Doctor outsmarted Prototype. Thanks to us he'll end up in labs just like he wanted and plus it'll be against Prototype's wishes.

I saw many theories about how Prototype wants to use us and he lured us to the labs but honestly I doubt that. I think that Doctor is the one who lured us to labs. Why I think so? It's because Prototype wanted us dead. We survived thanks to Kissy. But it's clear as day that Prototype wanted to get rid of us. It'd be too convoluted of a plan if he set up explosives and hoped that we'd survive the explosion. Also let's not forget that Prototype as Ollie in chapter 3 said that we "chose our side" and he sounded not so much amused by that. Which in my opinion is good as confirmation that he wanted to get rid of us but after he tricked us to do the dirty work for him.

Another bold statement of mine is I think that Doctor is the one who wanted us to end up down in the labs. He knew what we were able to survive. He tested us. We passed. Thanks to that he knew that we'll survive whatever Prototype had set up for us. And Doctor's line "It appears you are every bit what the Prototype fears." is confirmation of that. Harley knew Prototype would try to get rid of us sooner or later hence why he wanted to test us.

After all Sawyer's alliance with Prototype was weak which is confirmed by what Sawyer said during his boss battle - "I'll bury myself so far down that no one will ever find me. Not you. Not The Prototype. Not anyone."

This leads me to believe that Doctor wanted to fake his death not so much to trick us but to trick Prototype.

And even if Harley was even more limited by Prototype and the latter didn't inform Sawyer about most of his plans it only shows how much more of a genius Doctor is if he was able to deduce what Prototype will use us and how Poppy will act. After all he knew that Poppy will betray us.

Which leads to another important implication. If Harley knew or was able to deduce what will happen that Poppy will betray us that we'll fail that we'll take omni-chip which killed him why the hell he let that happen? And if he didn't trust Prototype why he basically let Prototype to kill him? Because Prototype also wanted us to take omni-chip so he could make a bomb out of the generator in Safe Haven. And most likely Prototype knew taking omni-chip would kill Sawyer. And Sawyer is too smart to not connect the dots so why he let it happen? That's why I think that Doctor wants Prototype to think that he got rid of him by faking his own death.

All of the things I pointed out lead me to believe that Harley Sawyer is alive and probably we helped him get to the labs.

I wish more people focused on Doctor because he has more to offer than it may seem. But many gave up on his character due to how they were disappointed in his boss battle. I think that it was intentional on Mob Game's part to make Doctor seem to be not as dangerous as he actually is. I also heard that one of CEOs (Zach maybe) said that Sawyer is the scariest character in Poppy. We didn't see too much of it hence why I think there's more to his character than it may seem.

Also it's impossible for a genius like Doctor to die so easily and also if he did so it'd look like he let us kill him and let to be played by Prototype which doesn't fit his character at all.

And let's be honest why would Harley survivng be impossible with rules of pseudo-science?

[icewindandboringhorror]

boy who likes to look very innocent and pretend that he simply wants to smell something but then will try to bite it out of your hands as soon as you've let your guard down

[penny-anna]

Janeway asks Tom if he'd mind deleting the program as it's becoming a distraction and he's like 'sure no problem, I already got what I wanted from it'

later comes back to the group like 'so I deleted the holosex program and while I was there I checked the records and it's been accessed 8 times since you guys found it' and they're like 'yeah so' and he's like sooo i asked B'Elanna and she says she only played it through twice which means someone else holofucked me and I wanna know who it was

Harry's like 'why do you think it was one of us? there's 150 people on the ship' and Tom's like ok well did you guys tell anyone and Harry is like 'well no' and Neelix is like 'my lips were zipped' and Tom's like looks like someone in this room holofucked me then

so Harry's like 'I think you're just bringing this up to distract us all from the weirdness of you having a holosex program about yourself' and he's like noooo I have no shame about holofucking myself, I actually think holofucking yourself is good and healthy and everyone should try it at least once, anyway seriously though which of you guys holofucked me I wanna know

Neelix is like 'alright I wasn't going to bring this up but I accessed the program once and then turned it off before it got to the good part because it was making me very uncomfortable' and Tom is like thank you for your honesty Neelix. that still leaves five accesses unaccounted for so someone holofucked me.

at which point Harry is like 'do you have to keep saying holofucked? it's just a holoprogram, calling it holofucking is like saying masturbating while picturing someone in your head is equivalent to having sex with them' and Tom's like mm-hm and Harry's like 'look no it's just the principle of the thing, I didn't access the program' and Tom's like mmm-hmmm and Harry's like 'I never accessed the program stop making that noise and also it was probably Seven'

Tom's like okay we're gonna circle back to you Harry. anything to say for yourself Seven? and Seven's like 'I fail to see what relevance this has. Captain Janeway instructed us all to stop getting distracted by the program' and Tom's like aha since when do you care about Captain Janeway's orders. you totally holofucked me.

B'Elanna's like 'ok not to defend Seven but I honestly don't think she has it in her to holofuck somebody' and Seven's like 'I didn't access the program but I'd like it noted that I have average levels of sexual desire and could holofuck Lieutenant Paris if I wanted to. but I didn't. have you considered that it might have been the Doctor?'

Tom's like aughh Seven why'd you have to put that image in my head. i changed my mind I don't want to know who holofucked me anymore. but the Doctor's like 'much as I don't want to be involved in this I'd like to note that based on the vividness of his descriptions I think Ensign Kim must have accessed the program'

Harry's like 'what no no I mean I checked it out but I turned it off before it got to the holosex part' and Tom's like MM-HMM and B'Elanna's like 'I wasn't gonna say anything but I also assumed you accessed it Harry' and Harry's like 'and you weren't like... mad?' and she's like 'eh no I figured if you were gonna fuck Tom you'd have done it years ago'

meanwhile Tom's like listen look even if I believed Harry (which I don't) that still leaves four accesses so somebody in this room must've holofucked me and Neelix is like 'I swear it wasn't me' and Tom's like somebody in this room who isn't Neelix must've holofucked me and they're all stammering and not looking him in the eye etc. no work getting done all day.

if voyager was like 25% racier they could have had a plot where someone stumbles on a buried holodeck program about having sex with Tom Paris and now everyone is trying to figure out who wants to fuck Tom so badly they made a whole holodeck program about it.

no-one wants to bring it up with Tom himself for obvious reasons. naturally all eyes turn to B'Elanna but she strenuously denies it. initially no-one believes her but on investigation they break the encryption and discover that it looks like Harry made the program.

Harry gets very flustered and insists that someone must have fraudulently used his credentials to make the program. but if that's the case then it was either one of the ship's other senior officers (bcos they're the only people who'd be able to fake Harry's credentials) or someone with very advanced holodeck skills

Seven is briefly considered (she has the technical skills) but is fully exonerated when they realise the program predates her time on the crew.

Seven points out that it could have been the Doctor who also has the relevant skills but the Doctor argues that he wouldn't bcos he has better taste and also if he wanted to make a secret holodeck program he'd cover his tracks better and he's right on all counts. Neelix protests his innocence and everyone's like yeah honestly we never thought it was you Neelix.

the Doctor suggests that maybe they should let the matter rest on the grounds that masturbation is perfectly natural and healthy and whoever's responsible it's their own private business but B'Elanna and Harry are like nooo this is a threat to the harmony of the crew we have to know. also we're nosy. don't you want to help us on this. and the Doctor's like yeah. alright.

B'Elanna and Harry and the Doctor can't find any evidence of fakery which makes it more and more likely that it was a senior officer. they're all eying Janeway and Chakotay and Tuvok trying to guess which one of them secretly wants to fuck Tom Paris.

Janeway seems the most likely prospect as she has technically fucked him before when they were salamanders and also like as far as anyone knows she's been functionally celibate since they got stranded so she's gotta be pretty pent up by now.

but then Tom and Chakotay have some history from their time in the Maquis so there could be something going on there??

Tuvok is the least likely by a mile bcos like he's Tuvok but then it's always the people you least suspect isn't it and last time they found a weird holodeck program it turned out to be Tuvok's so maybe?? maybe??

obviously they aren't about to bring this up with Janeway & co so they're just sitting in command meetings with their 3 most plausible suspects and Tom himself. collectively fucking sweating. unable to concentrate.

after several repetitions of this Janeway's like OK something's distracting you all. fess up so we sort out whatever it is and move on with business. and after a lot of squirming one of them breaks.

& then Tom is like ohh yeah that's my program. and they're like. say what?? and he's like that's my holodeck program I made it. for personal use.

so B'Elanna is like 'why would you make a holosex program about yourself' and he's like because I wanted to know what it was like to fuck me?? is that so wrong. get off my case.

[septembersghost]

Burning Love montage has been stuck in my head all day and made me think of you!

💗🔥💃🏻LIKE A SWEET SONG OF A CHOIR YOU LIGHT MY MORNING SKY WITH BURNING LOVE 💃🏻🔥💗

was it because the every elvis second twt just did that section?

rent free in my head. shout out to the entire creative team, and especially austin butler, the man that you are, catherine martin, the woman that you are!!!

[premaritalhug]

"You can't ship Dirk with a woman. That's problematic. You're forcing him to be straight when in the narrative he's gay." *Ships Dirk with Egbert.* To be honest with you, I don't really care about any of this all that much. The idea that Dirk would shit his pants over someone drawing him going on a spaghetti dinner date Nepeta or something is ludicrous, as far as I'm concerned. I think he might play into the whole thing and pretend to be pissed because it was funny, but that's really about it, in my opinion. I just think it's kind of strange to see people up in arms about the sanctity of Dirk's sexuality while disregarding the fact that Hussie declared JEgbert to be trans at one point.

[cxffecoupx]

seungcheol's mad. the members know just how to calm him down.

"YN! yn! you need to come to the practice room right now. seungcheol's furious!"

that's all you need to know before you leave your office in the pretext of grabbing lunch and head towards seungcheol's company building. even in the crazy traffic of the afternoon, the only thing running in your mind is the image of your angry boyfriend, eyes wide and lips pouted in annoyance.

which is exactly what greets you when you reach the boys' usual dance practice room that seungkwan called you to. you push open the door and see a few of them sitting down, faces pale from exhaustion, a few scattered doing some random tasks, and jeonghan standing next to seungcheol, chewing on his lips.

but seungcheol doesn't notice anything: he doesn't notice the way chan gently tugs at his shirt; the way his teammates take tense, heavy breaths in worry; the way jeonghan now pats his back, and certainly not your arrival into the room. you sidle over to seungkwan, who's face melts into relief at seeing you. he pulls you aside to brief you about the situation.

"the thing is, last week, we were told that we could take tomorrow off. but then they came in a few minutes ago, saying that we'd have extra practice tomorrow, since they pushed the broadcast recording a week earlier," he takes a moment to pause and looks over at seungcheol, who's still very unaware of everything around him.

"hyung's losing his mind because we'd all made individual plans for tomorrow. some of us were gonna go home for the weekend..." seungkwan's lips turn into a pout as he becomes aware of the fact that now he won't be able to. you turn around to look at your boyfriend.

"i want you to tell us why you preponed the date without consulting us first. it's not the extra practice we're worried about. it's the fact that you didn't care to ask us in the first place! aren't we the artists- no, i need you to listen to me right now- don't tell me to calm down!"

your lips press together in concern as you walk over to him. he doesn't see you even when you're standing right beside him, more intent on getting his point across.

"we've been working overtime since last month..."

"seungcheol..." you call him.

"...and yet, we haven't gotten a single break day-

"seungcheol."

"-and then you expect us to do our best and get more wins-"

"love..."

you hold his chin with your hand and gently turn his face towards you. the sudden shift in his glance is noticed only by you. the angry, outraged expression of his turns into a soft, meek look with just a single touch, sparkles automatically forming in his eyes as they focus on you. the staff beside you bows and leaves the room. your eyes follow them until they shut the door before moving back to his.

he slumps into your hand as you lean in to press a kiss, and wraps his around you, body feeling heavy. jeonghan nods and you lead seungcheol out into the breakroom.

his face still hangs low, lips losing their pout only when you press your lips to them. his frown turns into the smallest of smiles.

"thanks for getting me out of there. i was starting to lose my mind."

"kwan told me you were furious. i had to come running," you hold his cheek and he leans into your touch. his stomach grumbles in response.

"you might have been a little hangry back then. come on, let's get you some food," you drag him out of the building to a cafe nearby you often visit.

"sho you mean to shay you'd alwaysh come for me?" he mumbles through a mouthful of the hideously large croissant he'd ordered, a few crumbs and some chocolate filling dusting his lips.

"i don't like to be rushed..." you lean forward to wipe it off with your thumb with a fond smile, before licking it off.

"...but for you, i'd always come running."

inspired from this video on twitter (that completely, absolutely destroyed me because LOOK AT HIM?! adorable pouty cutie pie

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Glass Coffin

Weirder shit has happened in DC universe, but hear me out, Young Justice finds a glass coffin with Danny sleeping inside it. Maybe it's in some ancient tomb and hidden away for centuries, maybe it's in some villain's private collection of artifacts, maybe it's in some museum in plain sight.

And then Kon hears a heartbeat from it.

(I'm going with the version of YJ that is Kon, Tim, Cassie, and Bart here, fyi)

Assuming they didn't come to wherever they found the coffin just for the sake of it, they, as the responsible teenagers they are, finish their business first and take it to Mount Justice later to figure out what the fuck. Meanwhile, Danny is sleeping peacefully like a princess, all up in his King garb, with the Crown of stars, cape of night sky, and whatever else pretty stuff you want him to have. Point is, he looks majestic.

Tim looks up the records for the coffin. The files say it's hundreds of years old, and no one has been able to open it yet. The boy inside is stated to be either a statue or some kind of really well-preserved corpse - no amount of scanning registered any signs of life, so it was treated like a piece of art for the most part.

Yet, Con is absolutely positive he heard a heartbeat inside. What's more, he can still hear it now. It's impossibly slow but still recognizable.

Cassie finds a whole lot of legends about it, most of them speaking of 'only those from the other side can open the casket', and there are no clarifications to what kind of other side they are all talking about.

Of course, they all try. Because this is some kind of Snow White or Sleeping Beauty shit, and besides, none of them even think they would be able to open it anyway. And, sure, as soon as they are done having fun with it, they will report to the JL about their finding. Maybe the magic users will know something about the weird Sleeping Prince. They even go as far as to reason with the casket, loudly proclaiming where they are from, because they all come from very different 'sides'.

Bart goes first, explaining how he is from the future. The casket doesn't budge. Cassie goes next, stating herself as Themyskirian, but to no avail. Kon is next, with his half-Kryptonian heritage, but the glass coffin doesn't accept him as worthy either.

And then it's Tim's turn. And somehow, he flips the glass lid open with no effort at all.

A moment of silence follows, all the YJ members frozen in place, waiting for anything to happen, but the boy inside keeps just laying there, unmoving and with his eyes closed. Then Cassie makes a joke about kissing the princess to wake her up, and all of them start arguing on ethics and stuff because why is Robin the one that has to do the kissing, do you have any idea where that boy has been? Fuck off, you kiss him if you want it, and also, do you really want him to wake up, what if he is some kind of villain or an evil spirit, or-

"Which one of you assholes is dead enough to wake me up from my nap?"

And that's as far as I got with this idea. Maybe Danny was put into some magic sleep, maybe it was Clockwork's time shenanigans, maybe someone locked him inside and he decided to sleep it off, maybe he is there on his own volition, taking a vacation from Kingly duties.

I'm just having this vision of eternally beautiful Danny in a glass (oh, maybe it's not glass, maybe it's ice) coffin, and the YJ arguing over it. There's also Dead Tired potential here, because I love them, yes.

[tenok]

.

[beansmakesthings]

Gonna yap about my girl's trauma, hold onto your butts. TW for abuse, mentions of death, a little bit of vaguely mentioned attempted murder, and the weirdo behavior her dad showed towards her mom.

Penny's mom was 19 and at a bar for the first time when she met this guy who was 11 years older than her. He did all the things, was charming and handsome and all that, and she thought it was kind of nice to be wanted by an older guy. This dude became weirdly obsessive over her and, when they had their daughter was born and mom died shortly after, he blamed Penny.

Penny did not have an easy time with her dad. He blamed her for every bad thing that happened to them and took it out on her. Penny didn't have an easy time making friends as her father refused to do anything to help her even after she was diagnosed with autism. He decided it was up to her to figure things out for herself. The one person Penny had was her grandmother on her mom's side. He wouldn't have let Penny see her, but that woman was a force to be reckoned with and would not take no for an answer. She didn't know the extent of the abuse Penny endured, but she knew her son in law was a strict guy that clearly wasn't giving Penny enough support, so she did what she could for Penny. Penny learned ASL from her Gran, who had learned when her husband went deaf several years before his passing, and Gran gave Dolly to Penny when she was 4. Gran helped Penny get talking and more or less caught her up with the rest of the kids her age.

Gran passed away when Penny was 8 and, now without anyone defending her, her dad went really off the rails. Even with Penny's improvements, she still got in trouble at school for perceived rudeness and misbehavior, mostly attributed to autistic traits. Her father got worse with every call home until finally someone noticed (because you know the poor girl was half-dead) and called the cops.

Her father was arrested and Penny was put in the system when she was 10. She's been bouncing between a lot of homes and towns in the area until she got moved to Uranium City. Her first foster family there was a bust (I mean honestly how do you not notice that the kid in your care didn't come home and nearly died in a rollercoaster crash), but the family she stays with after the accident is far kinder to her and Penny thinks she maybe her luck has finally turned.

Now that you got the backstory, here are a couple happier details about my girl!

Her grandparents were sheep farmers (not on the Lamb side, but she does think it's kind of a funny coincidence) and Penny's only real aspiration in life is to be a sheep farmer like her Gran.

Penny's Metis on her mom's side!

Penny is strong as hell. Her mom's side of the family were all farmers and her dad's side of the family were all tradespeople, this girl is just built tough.

Penny didn't like being Jane Doe, but she loves Jane Doe for showing her that she is really truly deserving of love and kindness. Yeah Penny had Gran for the first 8 years of her life, but part of her always kind of thought it was out of obligation. Everyone's grandma dotes on them. But Jane Doe had her unmask and unapologetically be herself because she couldn't remember how to hide anymore, and these people who were practically strangers became her friends. When Penny was completely unable to pretend to be someone she's not, 5 people accepted her and cared about her.

Penny cuts and bleaches her hair as a way to sort of honor and remember her time as Jane Doe and the little bit of good that came from it.

Penny's in her alt phase post Cyclone and gets really into metal, punk rock, and emo bands. Catch this girl crying listening to Nemo by Nightwish because it's so her.

This girl has no idea how good of a singer she is. She had no training before choir and then she was there for two weeks before the accident, she just taught herself to sing listening to her Gran's old records. She doesn't know how she does what she does, she just does it.

Penny has a personal vendetta against pants because they are too squeezy and touch too much of her legs. It doesn't matter if it's -40 out, she will be in a skirt because pants are the devil.

Now have some random doodles featuring her because she is very special to me

Oh yeah and she kisses Ocean O'Connell Rosenberg on the mouth 0_0

It is safe to say i want to see more non legoland penny content?? I'm a legoland penny and rtc penny are the same person truther, but i do want to see peoples interpretation of penny without being legoland penny, since there's the multiverse theory, etc.

So if you have a non legoland penny, please tell me about her :3

[etfrin]

⤷❝Mine To Love | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, mentions of killing, mentions of caging/locking you up (doesn't do it though), hair pulling, breath play if you squint, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), pinv sex, blowjob, male masterbation, cunnilingus, mating press, mentions of Lucy Gray, no spoilers | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Snow realizing his feelings for you, being fucked up about it and fucks you!

⇢☾A/N: don't romanticize, it's dark romance so y'all are warned! This is set in the same au as The Study (you don't have to read it beforehand but it's recommended)

< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > <tag list>

It started slowly, so slow that Snow didn't even realize it. It started with that night in the study after he had you. He didn't touch you again, denying himself of you. You, his wife, a little bird stuck in a cage. The First Lady of Panem was nothing but a doll, a showcase piece for the country.

You played the role well enough, but you weren't a doll at all. You brought life in what was otherwise a stone-cold mannor. The workers cook your favorite, making sure you're the most well-accommodated. Like a Queen. How their shoulders relax and the smile that springs up when they do the tasks that you assigned them. You earned their respect and their loyalty.

You were dangerous yet harmless. It baffled Coriolanus to no end. It started slow. He coincidentally met you in the hallways more and more. After that night, you couldn't make eye contact with him, no longer did you greet him with an awkward hello or a shy smile.

You look down at the floor whenever he passes you by, your body flushing from the mere second of proximity. So obvious and adorable. He loved how easy you were to read, how open you were. Whatever your lips hide, your eyes show. Whatever your soul hides, your body shows.

It started slow. The monthly dinners with the First Lady turned weekly. Every Sunday now he had you sit across him for dinner and he would ask you about your day. Just to be polite, mind you, don't look into it. He would be annoyed by those one-word answers but would never show it. His fingers subtly grasped the glass of wine tighter than he should, his heart pricking his brain into paranoia. ‘What else?’ he wanted to ask, ‘Stop saying it was good. Tell me what made it good.’

Instead of uttering those words, cameras were placed on every inch of the manner with the audio functions so everything is recorded for his and only his view. He watched you walking through the library, your fingertips touching the spines of the books you already read (which was most of them), you didn't even realize new books were added to the collection, all similar to the ones you liked. He watched you stroll the gardens, your face in a frown at the neverending white roses. A red rose and several other flowers were added the next day.

It started slow. He began to talk about his day more and more trying to fill a silence. He started asking for your opinion and oh, how that lighted your eyes up that you were finally doing what you were meant to do. Supporting him not as a doll but as a wife. You begin to talk about your days more, trusting him with your day-to-day activities. You tell him about friends and family, something he wasn't interested in (he has files on every single person you mentioned).

The nights that were dedicated to his needed sleep turned into the witching hours in which he would stroke his cock over the memory of you. His mouth biting into the pillow to stop his groans, hearing them would mean admitting his need for you and he rejected that notion. His cock was oversensitive because he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop fucking into his fist, again and again thinking about you. Not just your pussy but you. Your desperate moans, your lips marking his neck, your slick walls, and everything of you. Your tears, your head on his chest when he had fucked you. Everything.

He wanted to pin you against a wall. He wanted to bend over during dinner. He wanted you on his lap in his study. He wanted to push you to the bed and fuck you until the bed breaks. He wanted you!

The realization made him spill onto his bed sheets for the nth time. A gasp escaped his lips as he realized how deeply you are rooted in him now. He needed to kill you. He can't afford this again. Whatever this is. Obsession? Love? Was there ever a difference? He needed this to end.

‘You don't deserve to be loved,’ he thinks, you were no Lucy Gray after all, you were different. You could never compare to his first and only (not anymore) love. But he had caged you, he had you and knew your every move. The rumors that spread of cheating were seized along with the man who flirted with you. True to your words, you hadn't fallen to the temptations of the Capitol, rejecting their offers politely rather than basking in their attention like before.

‘Good,’ he thought, he had killed everyone who had touched you and it was hard to hide the evidence. “I am so much better than her,” he muttered, “I could do so much better.” He asked himself, ‘Why? After all the promises I made to myself of never repeating the mistake.’

He didn't get a reply but he dreamt of you.

Breakfast had passed, lunch too, he hadn't seen you once today. A quick peek at his monitors showed that you were sleeping in your room. He clenched his jaw, a part of him hating you for sleeping in because it deprived him of seeing you. A part of his heart warmed because your hair was a mess, the shirt you were wearing while sleeping was his, and you looked so darn pretty.

Coriolanus convinced himself that he was going to your room to wake you up. Nobody should sleep this late into the day. It wasn't healthy, and he needed the First Lady to remain healthy. That was all.

He stepped into the room, his footsteps quiet so he didn't alert you. He sits down on the bed, your sleeping figure beside him. Your mouth had dried drool on the corners which made him disgusted but amusement all the same. His hand went to your cheek, he couldn't control the action of his thumb stroking your cheek.

“I should lock you up forever,” he whispered as softly as possible, almost inaudible. “In this room, so no one can see you but me.”

He knew by now his thoughts weren't normal and it would never be. That's him and he had accepted himself. He leaned in closer, his lips inches away from yours. He stopped right before he closed the gap. He takes a deep breath, taking in your scent before pulling back.

His hand goes to your shoulder, he shakes you. “Wake up, bird,” he said, his eyes softening when he saw you wake up and peer at him with confused eyes. You yawn, and sit up, your eyes wide when you look at him. You rub them with your hand and blink.

“Is there anything wrong, Coryo?” You asked softly, “Anything I can do to help.” “You should shower and eat first,” he said instead, “and next time don't sleep in. I don't like indiscipline.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, “I was finishing a book.” Your eyes flicker to him, “It's nice by the way! I will tell you about it during dinner.” He wanted to hear about it now, he wanted to pull you closer and kiss your lips, he wanted to push you into the mattress and breed you. He wanted to clean you up after and feed you every kind of feed.

He clenched his jaw, trying to get rid of such thoughts. “We'll see,” he said before walking out of the room, accidentally slamming the door. The first sign of Snow losing control.

The second sign of Coriolanus losing control was how his breath hitched when he saw you during dinner. You are wearing yet another one of his shirts (how do you even get your hands on them) and that's it. A white shirt that reached your knees, you had forgone pants and opted for shorts that couldn't even be seen. Your legs were in complete view, the same legs he wanted wrapped around his waist.

He didn't say a single comment even when it was clear you were waiting for one. ‘Were you trying to seduce him?’ he thinks, ‘Or something else.’ He felt paranoid about you wearing his shirt. Did you want him? Want him to bend you over, press your face onto the table and fuck you like you were an animal?

He felt his pants getting tighter from his thoughts, flashes of what he could do to you, what he had done to you. He couldn't focus as you talked during dinner, he made a mental note to watch the cameras later to know the words you had blessed him with.

It hits him like a wave when dinner ends and you come to him with a book. Tabs were spilling out and it was a hardcover of an old classic that he had to read during the academy.

“You once told me that you liked this book, I spent last night annotating it! I did a few finishing touches before dinner…”

That explains your attire, you were busy formatting this gift for him. He took the book from your hand, he wanted to throw it across the room, he wanted to set it on fire. It was now his most precious treasure, more important than Panem itself.

The truth he denied washes over him. Making him take a sharp breath and your eyebrows etch together in concern. He had once a girl dedicate songs for him, now he had a wife dedicating booms for him. ‘It would be a mistake,’ he told himself, ‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past.’

The desires he shoved at the back of his mind sprang forward and he made a decision. The third sign of Coriolanus surrendering to himself was that he had everyone including the guards leave the dining room. Making your eyes widen from the sudden instruction.

“Is there anything wrong-” you begin to ask before Snow interrupts you. “Here is what's going to happen now. You're gonna be on your knees, you'll take my cock in your mouth and you'll make me cum. Then I will take you to our room and I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name.”

You blink once, twice just staring into his eyes that revealed nothing before you went closer to him and got down on your knees for him. “Like this?” You asked, breathless, your cheeks flushed. He smirked, “Exactly like this, pet.”

“Now part those pretty lips for me,” he said as he unzipped his pants and set his hard cock free. He lets out a chuckle as he sees you eyeing his cock like a long-lost lover. Guess he wasn't the only one thinking about that time.

You part your mouth wide enough for him as he pushes his cock in slowly. No matter how desperate he was a gentleman for his wife. He knew better than to gag you. He stopped when his cock had completely disappeared, his length engulfed into your wet, hot mouth.

He throws back his head as his dick hits the back of your throat. He relishes the sound of your choking around his length. He lets out his groan, trying his hardest not to cum down your throat so soon. His hand is in your hair, keeping you in place like an obedient pet.

You try your best to take in a deep breath as your tongue swirls around his length as much as possible. You weren't the best at blowjobs, but you knew the sloppier the better. Saliva ran down your cheek as you tried your best to focus on his cock underside, your tongue dragging itself across a pulsing vein that reached his cockhead.

You moan around his length as the taste of pre-cum bursts in your mouth. You close your eyes and try your best, bopping your head up and down. You clenched your fist, trying your best not to gag when his cock gets deeper into your throat.

Meanwhile, Snow was a wreck of a man, the heat of your mouth ruining his capability of having coherent thoughts. You were sucking his soul through his dick it seemed to him. His fingers tangled in your locks, gripping your hair tighter as a way to anchor himself to reality.

His blue eyes dilated to almost black as he looks at you taking his cock so well. Like you were made for it. Made for his cock. Made for him. Meant to be his wife, his bird, his pet, and his love. It's destiny, he decided as he pulls you off his cock and uses his suit sleeves to wipe your mouth and chin.

‘Everything leads to this,’ he thought, as he pulled you onto his lap and pressed a kiss to your lips. The saltiness of his taste in your mouth does not deter his tongue from tasting you.

“Go to my- our room,” he whispered to you as he broke the kiss. “I'll be there soon,” he promises as he nuzzles into your neck, his lips kissing your skin. You nod and get off his lap. Your feet drag you into his room.

Meanwhile, Coriolanus takes a deep breath, trying to maintain whatever pathetic excuse of sanity he had held. It didn't work. His cock was hard enough to hurt and his brain made him think. He thinks of removing you, he thinks of keeping you. He thinks of plans to protect you, backup plans to make sure you remain untouched while still maintaining the image of the First Lady. His true possessiveness and obsession flares up in his mind.

‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past,’ he told himself, repeating that line to his head.

He takes a deep breath, a glance at the cameras shows workers and guards kept the halls clear and you were in his room and on his bed waiting for him. Waiting for him to ravish you as you kept playing with the buttons of the shirt, and your underwear on the floor. Your face was crimson but your lower lip was in a darker shade of red with how much you bitten it because of nervousness.

He lets out a huff of air before adjusting himself accordingly. Coriolanus Snow was many things, gentlemen included and gentlemen don't keep their ladies waiting.

You freeze as he enters the room. You swallow nervously, your fingers pausing on the shirt button you were playing with. He glances at the panties that were on the floor and he gives you a little smirk. “Take it all off, my wife,” he said as his hands worked to undress him. His suit was on the floor, his shirt joining it soon enough.

You have to press your thighs together as you see his skin again, a whimper escaping your lips at the sight. He was so beautiful, craved by the angels, breathed to life by the devil. Soon, his pants and boxers were getting ridden off.

You check him out, your gaze hungry. Your fingers shake with desire as you take off your (his) shirt. You let it fall, exposing yourself completely to him, like he did for you. His eyes rack you up, causing a flush to every visible inch of your skin.

“Open your legs,” he said, as he walked closer and got down on his knees for you. “I am hungry,” he said, while his lips pressed to your knee and his lustful eyes bewitched you. You had to bite your tongue to not let a moan from his mere words. You spread your legs wide, letting your cunt come into his view.

Your folds that were glistening with your arousal and your slit which was the cause of your juices fluttered around nothing from his gaze. “Exquisite,” he had whispered, the praise warming you up and making your pussy clench harder. “Eager too,” he chuckles, looking up at you but you refuse to meet his gaze.

“Have your meal,” you mumbled, embarrassed. He pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, making your breath hitch from the contact. A sharp moan escapes when he bites, his teeth digging into the flesh and your hand falls onto his hair. Your fingers grip the blonde locks but you don't try to push him away. Your legs tried to close around him, but his hands made sure to keep them spread as he liked it.

He pulled away, admiring the mark before he pressed another wet kiss to it. His fingers grip your thighs, they hold tight enough to leave marks too.

He takes in a deep breath, nuzzling into your thigh. Your primal scent makes him go wild, his nail digging into your skin as he brings his lips closer to your pussy. One swipe of his tongue onto your folds and he groans louder than you have ever heard him to do so.

“You taste like fucking candy,” he lets out, as his nose bumps into your clit, his tongue messily swirling around your folds, gathering as much of your juices as possible. Your legs were all on his shoulders now as he all but pressed his face, burying himself in your cunt. He takes in a deep breath through his mouth before he begins to ravish you properly.

His mouth taking in your entire pussy and sucking it with such devotion it made you see stars. He laps at your pussy, his tongue never stopping to devour you. You pulled him even closer, your thighs closing around his head. The action only made him. You couldn't see it, but his eyes rolled back from the lack of air and your taste that quickly became his favorite.

His teeth pulled at the outer lips of your pussy, making you cry out and gush more juices. He licks it all up. Before his attention goes to your little bud, his mouth kisses it at first. Then he takes your clit into his mouth to suck without any mercy.

It makes you cry out, the soles of your feet digging into his back as your hips begin to rut against his face. You have no control over your actions. You were gripping his hair so tight you were afraid that you tore away a few strands. Overwhelming pleasure attacked all of your senses as he didn't stop his merciless actions.

You arch your back, your lips moaning his name as heat begins to gather in your body. You cry out, “Close! Coryo! Fuck!” Pleads begin to leave your mouth as your hips grind faster, your clit nudged his nose as his tongue is now inside your walls, fucking you with his tongue.

Your eyes widen, and you let out a silent scream when his teeth nip your swollen clit. You lay on the bed, panting as your pussy cums on his face. Your arousal makes a mess on his face which makes you even more slick when he pulls back and gets on top of you.

You looked into his eyes, his cold blue eyes that were nearly black now. He was panting, both of your breaths mixing into the air. With whatever senses you have left, you use your palm to clean up some of the mess on his face.

As soon as you finish up, he holds your hand. His mouth on your palm with broad strokes of his tongue he licks the remaining of your juices clean. “Can't let it go to waste, my bird,” he whispered to you as he leaned down. His body caging yours or were you caging him down with your legs around his waist? He pressed a kiss to your cheek. Sweet and gentle, and so unlike him but you don't dare question his affections. May it be sweet or savory, you accept it with your arms wide open.

“Want you,” you whispered to him. “You'll have me when I see fit,” he replied, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck before they reached the flesh of your breasts. One of his hands squeezed your breast and his thumb rubbed circles on your nipple. His lips paid attention to the underside of it, licking the skin around the round flesh before his teeth sank in making you gasp. He sucks harshly, his hold on your breast getting rougher as he forms the mark on your skin. When he's assured that a hickey will be formed, his lips pull back and he presses a kiss to the mark.

“You're mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin before he takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks just as harshly as before. You moan, “Yours, Snow!” Your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. His fingers play and squeeze your other breast while he continues to suck your bud. Your cunt despite having a previous earthsharing orgasm begins to pulse with need. You whimper, “Corio, please!”

Coryo pulls away, his eyebrows etched in annoyance, as much as he likes to hear you beg, he would rather focus on his task of marking you up. He leans up and presses his lips to you. You moan into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your fingers tangling themselves into his curls bringing him even closer to you. He breaks the kiss, “I'll teach you to be obedient later, my pet.”

You let out a whimper when he pressed a hard kiss against your lips. His hands travel down to your hips. “Get ready,” he whispered to you, “I meant my words.” I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name. Remembering his earlier words, you whine loudly, “Please!”

His hand grips your hip tightly as his other hand holds his hard cock and guides it to your entrance. Just to be a little tease, he swipes his mushroom tip all over your cunt, his cockhead bumping your swollen clit making you arch your back and your nails dig into his flesh harder, making him moan as well.

He finally pressed his tip into your slit, his cock gliding in smoothly because of how wet you were. He groans as his dick gets sucked into warmth. His head is between the space of your shoulder. He was panting, his hot breath hitting your skin as he pushed in inch by inch. Your hands are on his back, your legs around his waist as you encourage him to go deeper into you with your soft moans.

His teeth sink into your neck to stop a groan, as his cock reaches your deepest spot. While your nails drag themselves across his back to create red lines. Both of you finding ways to anchor yourself to reality, to not go insane with the pleasure you find in each other.

“Move,” you plead, “Please, Coryo, need you to fuck me. Need you!” Snow decided to have mercy on you both, his hips began to move shallowly, and he refused to completely pull back. He refused the concept of depriving his dick of your sweet, wet pussy. “Faster,” you beg, his deep thrust hits at your every spot, some you didn't even know existed. It fried at your senses, your mind going haywire, your body getting desperate for another release.

“No,” he barks near your ear, his mouth biting your earlobe before he begins to kiss your jaw and then to your collarbone. His lips suck purple and blue bruises on your skin while his hips grind into you. Making you go dizzy and insane with how his cockhead kept grazing your g-spot.

“Please, please,” you babble, “You're fucking me so good, Coryo! I can't take it, please! Fuck me harder, love!” His hips had stopped moving as he heard your words. His head leaned up to you, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, “What did you say?”

You looked straight into his eyes, not hiding the love you had for him, letting it flow through your words and your body. “Love,” you whispered, your lips pressing a delicate kiss that could shatter everything you had built with Snow. “I love you,” you whispered. One of your hands moves to his cheek, caressing him. “You don't have to do anything in return, just know that I love you.” You smile at him, knowing it's more likely that he won't ever return your feelings.

You prepared yourself for a harsh rejection but instead, his hips begin to move again. Harder, faster than before, his cockhead kissing your cervix with his thrusts, his fingers digging into your hips marking it. You won't be able to walk later but that didn't matter.

What mattered was how perfect Coriolanus had begun to fuck you. No, it wasn't a fuck. This was something more. Something changed with your confession, something changed and will remain changed for the rest of both of your lives.

One of his hands reached upward, his fingers snaking around your throat. He pressed it in, not enough to block your breathing but enough to make you lightheaded. Your pussy which was already tight, clenched around him further making him groan right against your ear.

“Lover indeed,” he whispered, his words that you nearly missed, your heart understood what he meant. You gasp, “Kiss me.” You knew that even without him saying those words, he could love you all the same.

Snow complies, his lips clashing with yours. His hips rutting into you as his hands guide your legs into the mating press position, making you cry out into the kiss as his cock reaches even deeper than before causing a small bump into your stomach that neither of you notices.

The kiss got open-mouthed, desperate with how his tongue tangled with yours. It was filth filled with the pathetic, insanity of love you both felt for each other. His thrusts got faster, and sloppier as he was close to his end. Your cunt pulsating around his length as you too were close to shattering again.

What it took for both of you to reach the end was him breaking the kiss to whisper, “I should kill you. I should kill you for making me a lovesick fool again.”

The words even when you know can mean your doom makes you cum like nothing else. Your lips cry out as your walls begin to milk his cock for what it's worth. He groans into your mouth, letting himself feel your fluttering cunt before he thrusts into you once, twice, and finds his release. His cock spilling into you, his cum painting your insides white, marking you.

He pulls out, his back covered with scratches, his curls clinging to his forehead and his lips swollen from the kisses. You looked just as much of a mess as he did, with marks all over your body.

He thinks to himself as he lies beside you. He wasn't going to kill you now. Not in ten years or fifty but your end would only be when he decides.

He loves you after all, in his twisted way.

tags : @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @justacaliforniandreamer

[slvttyplum]

“and soon as i press record, she gon' fuck me on cam.”

nanami may not look like it, but he was a little freak. folding, flipping and twisting you up like a rag filled with water that he had to squeeze out then manhandling you pushing you into positions you’ve never heard of. 

those were the tame things, something you could giggle and relive while you talked with your friends over lunch, at least to his standards.

what he really started to like was recording you. 

yes, sex tapes have become somewhat normalized, but nanami thought it was taboo to record such things, but he loved it so much.

this man could work a camera like the back of his hand. no, not a phone camera; we're not talking about beyoncé's video phone but instead a camcorder.

he was taking it old school, the strap firmly on his knuckles and everything; this man was serious.

nanami didn't trust recording anything on his phone, especially with his clumsiness; one wrong move and you getting bent over the couch armrest was accidentally sent to his coworker.

he didn’t want to miss a beat; he wanted to make sure this was filmed and kept only for him and you to see, plus it was something about the grainy screen that made everything sexier. 

his voice could be heard behind the camera in a low voice telling you what position to get into and lightly pressing the button on the camera zooming onto your ass. 

“yeah, just like that.”

the main focus point was you; the camera was never on him, and he even tried not to moan as much in the recordings. 

these were for him to look back on and either admire your gorgeous face and the way your moans sunk into his ears like honey or jerk off, really no in between for him. 

this was a man on a mission.

all he wanted to do was look at you; that’s why you never watched them back with him because they were of your face while he fucked you. 

“no come back, you look amazing.” he made sure to tell you every time, reassuring you after he stopped recording that you looked great. 

the whole recording thing wasn’t up your alley, but once you saw the old-ass camcorder, it eased your nerves a little. 

“amuse me; you don’t even have to look into the camera; act like it’s not even there.” 

a soft smile on his face as he looks at you directly in the eye, adjusting his glasses as he rubs his hand over your sides, and amuse him you did because he couldn’t get enough. 

this damn camcorder made both of you fuck like rabbits; it was something so erotic about recording an act between two lovers. 

nanami would be inches deep inside of you having your eyes going every which way while you spasmed around his dick telling you to smile for the camera. 

“let me see that pretty smile, just like that. good job.” 

this man knew what he was doing, but he just had to get some shots of you fucked out of your mind, another reason why you didn’t watch the recordings. 

sometimes it was his favorite pastime when he drank a little too much, watching the little screen of your dewy face scrunch up in such a lewd manner, making him want to fuck you all over again.

[pedroscurls]

in every lifetime

summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy! next part.

“I’ll be back.”

“But what if–”

“I always come back, bub.” Logan’s looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard. 

“Logan…” Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but there’s a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back. 

“Wait for me, then.” He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. “Okay? Wait for me.” 

“Logan,” you repeat. “What do I do if I– if I lose you?” 

There’s a feeling in the pit of Logan’s stomach, a sense of dread and fear that he’s only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye… That maybe if he does go, he won’t come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesn’t heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows he’s sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.

But now, the thought of dying… It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that he’d leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought he’d be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed. 

Through it all, you stayed. 

And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything he’s been through, the things he’s seen, the things he had to do, the people he’s lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living. 

“Then, you move on, darlin’.” Logan finally answers. 

“And if I can’t?” 

“You’ll have to.” 

“I don’t… I don’t want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you and–”

“I love you with every fiber of my being, baby,” Logan interjects. “And I will love you in every lifetime.” 

And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or… Or that he was no longer here. It wasn’t until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct. 

You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Logan’s death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him. 

You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him. 

In your dreams, he was alive. 

In your dreams, he had made it back home.

In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura. 

And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasn’t alive. He wasn’t coming back home. He wasn’t ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura. 

Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on. 

For yourself.

For Laura.

For Logan. 

—

He didn’t know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasn’t even his timeline; he wasn’t even meant to be here. Despite saving Wade’s timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about. 

But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wade’s family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about. 

Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret. 

Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm. 

He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that he’d do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldn’t stop it. 

Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didn’t think he was deserving of it. Of you. 

“I love you, Logan,” you had said, wincing at the pain. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–” Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. “Please, baby, please please please, don’t–”

“I–” you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. “I will love you in every lifetime, Logan.” And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms. 

Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself. 

That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something… To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right. 

“So, will you meet her?” Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. “She– She used to be with this universe’s Logan and…”

“No chance, kid.” Logan interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not him.” 

“Did you have someone like her in yours?” she asks. “She’s always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didn’t have to, when she was grieving. And I think–” Laura sighs. “I think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.”

“I’m not him,” Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. “‘Sides, she’s better off without me.” He stands from the table and walks out into Wade’s balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.

“But she’s coming tonight,” Laura finally says, long after Logan’s walked away.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didn’t belong here. He’s already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wade’s apartment, an arm slinging over Laura’s shoulders so casually, so maternally. 

He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he can’t help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until you’re the only one he hears. 

Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought he’d be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. There’s a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that you’re probably expecting someone else, expecting this world’s Logan and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again. 

But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, you’re already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he can’t fully concentrate. 

“You…” he hears you say, voice unsteady. “You’re not… I’m–” you sigh and shake your head. 

“I know who you are,” Logan finally says, his own voice shaky. 

Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isn’t your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him – much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl. 

“From Laura?” you ask hesitantly. 

“From my universe,” Logan answers. 

“There– There’s a version of me in your universe?” 

“There was.”

“And what happened to me?” 

Logan’s jaw tightens. “The same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.”

“Oh.” Your face drops, eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didn’t believe it himself. 

And you… You were the best thing to ever happen to him.

“Don’t know why you’re apologizin’,” Logan mutters. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. “I just– Losing my Logan just crushed me and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.” 

My Logan. 

Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isn’t a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him. 

“That’s okay,” Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. “I don’t think it’s easy to recover from losing someone you love.”

“Did you– Did you love me in your universe?” 

Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. “With every fiber of my being.” 

Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles. 

“Did you love me in yours?” Logan asks hesitantly.

You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. “I’d love you in every lifetime.” 

Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes. 

“I’m not him,” he whispers. 

“I know,” you say quietly. “And I’m not her.” 

[ridingtorohan]

hey!! i saw ur recent post about the tulpar crew walking in on reader touching themselves, could u do the same but vice versa?

Ask and ye shall receive!

𓇻 ft. tulpar crew x gn reader

𓇻 content. 18+ content, minors dni. possible second hand embarrassment. masturbation, sexual propositions, the whole shebang. this is a sequel to this post. this one can definitely be read on its own though. lightly implied that reader didn't accept swansea or daisuke's offers in the prequel but that can be left up to interpretation. jimmy's definitely happened though.

𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks!

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Curly is just so damn tired. Tired of the reports, faxes, checking the straps in the cargo bay. One of the few downtimes he gets is when he can sit and watch the constellations pass on the common room monitor. The Augira, Constantine and Mitena were all ones that he recognized from this sect of the system, all penned from the eyes of Saturn and further.

Movies are a scarce commodity on the screen, given Jimmy's track record of not wanting to hook the systems up, but it helps him nod off most times.

Working out, though? Working out he can do. Pony Express has given him permission to bring his weights on board, alongside a slew of magazines and audiobooks to listen to.

While Curly doesn't think of himself as a gym rat, those moments to himself are some of the best. Nothing but the burn of iron, the strain of his muscles with each rep. It's methodical work, one that sets his mind at ease and off of reports for once.

Some days, he can get Jimmy in on the action, but most of the time his co-pilot bemoans it. Each time they worked out, the stretches between the next session grew longer.

He's pleased when you agree to attend a few sessions with him. By then, it's almost amicable between you two, as if him walking in you didn't even happen. He's very much acted the part of a dutiful captain, though, he can't help his own eyes from wandering when he sees you stretch. Can't help himself from putting his hands firmly on you when he goes to correct your stance. It doesn't linger, doesn't wander, but goddamn, does he wish he could throw propriety out the window.

It's after one of his solo workout sessions when he chooses another way to unwind. Really, that's the only explanation for it. One that he tells himself anyway, because the strain of propriety is heavy. If he still thinks of you from time to time, if your face crops up in his thoughts while he touches himself, that's his business.

The only places you'd catch him in the act is either in the bathroom or his room.

Curly has always been imaginative, thoughts trailing to roads not travelled, paths that burn out of sight. Of you, sprawled out on the bed, and how he wished he had stayed. How he'd have given anything to hike your legs over his waist and kiss you senseless when he slid against you.

As it always is, every fantasy comes to an abrupt end. Every night that he had dreamed of walking in to find you waiting, you found him. Wifebeater drenched in sweat, towel draped over his shoulders, every line of his well built body on display, hand fisted around his cock.

There's a difference between wishing you'd walk in on him and actually receiving it.

A painful, terse moment lingers between you two, tension so thick he swears he can cut it. His hand completes the motion, wiping from his base to the tip, each breath deep. Despite how uncomfortable he felt (for more than one reason), he also felt more prepared. "Hold on a minute." He'll cover himself, boxers and uniform hiding himself from view.

If you believe you could flee from the room without Curly following you, you're dead wrong. He'll track you down, put this to bed once and for all. He'll catch you, half-dressed in his uniform, blue workwear draped around his waist, hand against the wall. "We have to talk about this."

Regardless if you stay or leave, not talking about it is no longer an option. You've both seen more of each other than was warranted, then what you both signed up for, but dammit he wants this. And he's so tired of shying away from things that he wants. From the person that he wants. All because of some higher-ups sitting cozy back home saying that it's wrong to do. He can't do it anymore, not when he feels like he's on the cusp of something great for once in his life.

"I know that what happened isn't what either of us expected," he'll start, voice low and perhaps far too sensual to be appropriate considered his half-dressed state. "And frankly, we can keep it to ourselves, pretend we never saw it." Biting the bullet is one of the fewest things he's done in life, but this is something that he wants to do. By fractions, Curly leans in closer, his voice entering a low murmur. "But... it doesn't have to be. We could give each other a.. hand, so to speak."

Routine. That's one thing that the Tulpar is good at. Routine. Each meal time, the rigid necessity of clocking in and out on time, even bathing. Pony Express may be a shit machine but it's well oiled, worked raw by the people under it. Delivering the payload is a smooth easy task because they all work on it together.

Part of that routine is shift work. Jimmy, ever the night-owl, works evening and night shift. This makes it so incredibly easy to avoid him if you wanted, especially since he walked in on you tending to yourself.

But he doesn't let you forget it. Since that moment, there's a smoldering heat in his gaze, eyes hooded as he watches you go about the room. Watched as you did your tasks, always standing too close - enough that you can get a whiff of his woodsy cologne, or feel his arm against yours.

He's almost helpful, even when your tasks really don't necessitate the need for another. His hands linger, hot against your uniform, his hips against the back of yours whenever he steadied you, or reached above you. Each word a rumble in his throat.

Except there's never really any change to talk to him about what happened. Not when every moment is tense, fraught with unresolved desires and need. Not when Daisuke or Curly walk into the room, silencing the burning questions and words that haunt your lips. Jimmy seems especially disgruntled about the interruptions, getting almost snappy towards the other crewmembers.

All in all, you rarely have a moment to speak with him. It's the furthest thing from your mind when you step out of the shower, more than eager to collapse face first into bed and sleep the weariness away.

If you're the sort to bring clothes into the washroom to change into, the absence of them is noted fast. No amount of scrounging around turns them up either. At a loss, it's to your sleeping quarters to wrangle up something else to wear.

Except you're very much not alone the second you step into your door. The door swishes behind you but you're effectively grounded, eyes drawn to the man lounging on your bed.

His head is tilted, messy hair falling across his hooded eyes, a dark and smoldering look to them. A slow stretch of a smirk crawls across his face, a pleased look darting into his eyes.

Jimmy is just as bare as the day he was born, an arm languidly thrown over your pillow. A leg bent up, not at all coy about having himself on display. His other arm is resting against his thigh, one hand smoothing along his flushed cock in a slow, slick motion. His fingerstips are all but slathered in precum - or actual cum, as you might suspiciously think when you look at your clothes haphazardly thrown onto the floor, looking sticky.

"There you are. Took you long enough." He breathes out your name, chin tilted upward, something primal lurking deep in his eyes. Jimmy clicks his tongue, ever the disapproving copilot. "You should know better than to keep someone waiting." Despite the curt, wanting tone to his words, he doesn't move towards you. Letting you go to him. Like he knows you will.

"I've been thinking," each word is low and deep, husky in his mouth. Jimmy's hand very much doesn't stop moving, stroking himself as you're rooted to the spot. Whenever you glance down between his thighs, his smirk deepens. "That you owe me for what I did for you."

It's not like you could dance around the topic forever; each touch, every interrupted conversation, it all would have culminated to this. Jimmy waiting for you, eager to put his hands back on you, to feel you tremble and shudder beneath him as he pulls you apart.

The thing was, you realize, it'd be terribly easy to leave him here. To not respond to his advances. The door was to your back and even Jimmy had enough sense not to walk out nude in pursuit of you. It'd be easy to walk to another crewmate's quarters and pilfer clothes. It'd be laughed off, brushed under the rug just as another incident, excused as you being unable to enter your room because of 'technical difficulties'.

The thing is, though, you can clearly remember how his hands felt, the way he moved. How Jimmy watched you with the same intensity now, his eyes a dark promise of a repeat experience, if not more.

You don't really want to refuse such an offer, do you?

Try as Anya might, she can't get the image of you out of her head. The sounds you made, how your hands moved. She'd tried to be civil, though how quickly she averts her gaze and fidgety hands betray how much it affected her. Nerves, she'd try to excuse it. Nothing ever related to you, of course, because that sounds too much like blame. She blames herself for walking in on you masturbating, and blames herself for wishing that she hadn't left.

But by god, did it make her needy and so sexually frustrated. She's found every excuse under the sun to touch you then jerk back, at war with herself. She has to act professional. Doesn't she?

Something about you, seeing you like that, had coiled something burning inside of her. Something hot, that festered low in her gut.

For the most part, she can act professional. Mostly. But she can only get so far from letting her eyes trace your silhouette, from sitting on her leg whenever you talk to her. It's risky business, even riskier when she decides to keeps a few tokens of yours. Things that smell like you, even distantly - papers, a bracelet. Things that you've lent to her before.

It's been a while since she got laid, since she's even been attracted to anyone. But something about you just sets her on fire, burning with want and need. She needs you like she's never needed anyone before.

Realistically, Anya knows it's because of the forbidden nature; because of the close proximity day in and day out, but there's something so tantalizingly beautiful about it too. She's a sucker for it.

One of her favourite places to get off is in the medbay; she can lock herself in it - but she doesn't. Because it's so much more tantalizing when she thinks about you walking in. When she thinks about pressing you against the desk and using her medical expertise on you. She wants to hear you - taste you - feel you. Is that too much to ask for?

That's exactly where you catch her. Her breath coming out in hot breaths, eyes shut tightly, uniform pulled open. It'd be so easy to mistake it for something else, such as the room being hot - if it weren't for where her hands were.

One has all but ridden up her shirt, rolling the peak of her breast between her fingers. The zipper has gone all the way down to her waist, one hand curled tightly in her underwear, motions jerky as she fingers herself.

Every inch of her wishes that it was you, your fingers working her over, touching her clit and prodding at her walls. She feels so close, having edged herself for a bit until you came in.

It was just to ask her her input on supper, or for a nonsensical question that very well could have waited for another moment.

The door swishes shut behind you and her eyes flutter, dark as she looks up at you, flush all but crawling up her neck.

Seeing how you look at her - how you came to look for her- needing her for something, a question halfway on your lips - and it's her undoing. She moans your name, guttural and hoarse, hips jerking, dripping over her knuckles. "Wait-" Singlehandedly one of the better orgasms she's had, better than when she pined endlessly.

When her senses come back, Anya is breathless and shaken - and you're long gone.

She's not letting you go this time. Not when a new, burning question lodges inside her. Did you like what you see? Did you wish you weren't there?

Anya approaches your door at night, knocking crisply and when you grant entrance, she stands there, the atmosphere almost palpably awkward. She takes a few steps closer, feeling flighty and desperate, eyes searching your face, whispering your name.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she whispers, voice low in the room, nerves biting at her throat. She can't not know anymore. "But I'm... glad that you did."

"Is this.. tension between us all in my head, or, do you want me too?"

It's one thing after the next. Couplings came loose, Daisuke's homework is not up to par, the lightbulbs need to be changed but no one seems capable of doing it. It all amounts to a sort of frustration winding up in him. Swansea has enough grace not to lash out at anyone, but it's there, palpable in his tone.

By some saving grace, you're willing to help him out with his work. Passing over screwdrivers and wrenches, new copper wire as he needs it. Swansea has noticed that you're attentive and eager like that; willing to help. Sometimes, he really wished you were his intern instead of Daisuke, not that he blames the kid.

He really needs a damn beer.

Wanking out his frustrations as a teenager and young adult had really suited him just fine, and with each passing day, it becomes a far more likely possibility.

It surely does not help when every little moment with you feels charged. Knuckles brushing when you supply him with mechanic tools, or when his arm brushed against your thigh as he steadied the ladder for you.

Swansea finds his gaze lingering.. on how your uniform bunches, the sway of your walk, the excited chatter to your tone when you've launched into some spiel or other. Each look he gives you is in quiet contemplation, though perhaps not as obvious as to why.

He's long since brushed off your curious questions.

It's when Anya outright slipped and fell over an oil spill that Swansea called it quits. There's only so many small annoyances that he could take before it became a hazardous snowstorm.

After it's suitably cleaned, he tried to find a place to tuck himself away. Keyword: tried. Something else always needed to be fixed, and he had enough years under his belt to know the ins and out of everything. Leaky faucet? Hold his glass. Vaccuum given up? He's got it. Curly, goddammit, he has it.

It's so grueling to find a moment of peace, so he takes what he can. That just so happened to be in the utility room, frustrations to a boiling point.

He knows his body, knows just the right way to stroke himself, the perfect amount of pressure. Learned it long since his youthful days, since his amicable divorce from his wife. Sure, it might feel mechanic at a certain point, but to him, it was a small reprieve. A getaway that only booze came close to.

Foreskin pulled back, his head is tucked low, eyes heavily lidded, fingertips pressing under the tip of the head just like he likes.

Swansea has himself sticky with precum when the utility door rattles and open. "Swansea, I found your keys-"

His eyes track up, eyebrows raised. Whatever hasty attempt you may have made, it's blocked by the aging mechanics of the utility door. It's from an older rig, one that still uses keys instead of the security bars that the medbay and cockpit use. Which means it's faulty as shit.

He sighs, head tipped back, eyes still on you. "That's on me for not leaving a sock out there," he grumbles, voice gruff and husky. A reference to how he told you to ward off people when he caught you masturbating earlier.

Moving his hand from his cock, his gaze is surprisingly steady, arm draped against the back of the chair. "Listen, kid, I won't say shit about this if you don't. Keep it jammed tight better than a olive jar when making margaritas. But." He rolls his neck, feeling a satisfying crack run through him. "I can show ya a few things that the ole cap' or other men won't, if yer interested."

Daisuke has been, for lack of a better word, edgy around you. Hovering, then trying to create distance. He can't seem to decide how to act around you. Not when he's seen you that way, pleasuring yourself. When he wishes you'd involve him.

He's seen plenty of naked people before, got hard over them, but wow, did you take it to the next level. Even how you tilt your head or roll up your sleeves has him in an outright tizzy, straining hard in his pants.

Daisuke often has to excuse himself from your presence. Ignoring Swansea's rolling eyes and knowing scoffs is easy; ignoring you is harder.

It's during one of those mundane tasks, where you're prattling about your work to the others, his eyes glued to your form, absorbing every word that he can't take it anymore. Excusing himself, he pops right out of the room, awkwardly striking towards his bunk.

But of course that is the exact moment you decide you need to return his gameboy - or comic, or whatever he had lent you a few weeks prior.

Daisuke is completely in the groove, pants folded down, back propped to the wall, knees folded and lips parted with each heavy breath. He's always been loud, noisy and boisterous. But his saving (and falling) grace is that he's also often playing movies in his room, and what muffled sounds you may hear from the other side of the door is easily chalked up to that. (Or perhaps, you knew.)

You catch him like that, hand fisted around his lean cock, shirt ridden up over his stomach, his movements sharp and jerky. It's bad enough that you walk in on him like this - but another to hear Daisuke rattle out your name, the sound breathy and full of want coming from his lips.

He's a poor, flushed mess, eyes wide when he looks up at you - and it's so plainly obvious to the both of you that he didn't call out because he heard you come in.

"I- I can totally explain." Except he really can't, can he, when he has his dick in his hand, just moaning your name literally seconds ago.

Any attempt to backtrack out of the room will be greeted with a hasty, "Oh my god, no, pleasewait!" As he all but tries to leap from his bed, tripping over his pants in his haste to get to you. Daisuke is nothing but determined and will try to talk to you about this, even if you manage to successfully flee.

Choosing to stay has him utterly red-faced, almost ashamed as he rambles through a tirade of, "Okay, so," punctuated by repeated, stumbled phrases before he manages to get out, "So, me calling out your name just now - total accident. Unlessyoudon'twantittobe? But, like, I definitely understand if you want to leave but I'dreallyratheryoustaybecause I really can't stop thinking about you and, - oh hey, is that my gameboy? You can just set it-- that's not important! I just. Really don't want you to leave. Please."

[fallingforyouforeverr]

𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐭 | 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

summary: lando begins to panic when you don't want to cuddle with him

author's note: it's really hot rn where I live so i just wanted to write a cute little blurb inspired by my own suffering. vote here for who i write my next fic about!

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Lando was confused. He didn't think he had done anything wrong, and you didn't seem to be upset with him until now, so he couldn't possibly understand why you were refusing to cuddle with him.

It started off as most of your evenings did. After dinner, he washed the dishes while you dried and put them away, then you both moved into the living room to watch some tv before bed. Only, when Lando tried to pull you closer, you pushed his arm off you, moving away and leaving your boyfriend staring at you like a kicked puppy.

You didn't seem to think anything of it, settling back down on the other side of the sofa and pressing play on your favourite show. However, Lando was still frozen, mind reeling from your rejection. He wondered if you were ignoring him because you were mad or if it was just a mistake and you genuinely couldn't feel his eyes on you.

At last, the uncertainty became to much to bear and he decided to speak up. "Um...baby?" He asked tentatively, watching your face closely to see your reaction.

"Yeah?" You answered, glancing away from the screen.

Huh. That's weird. You didn't seem mad at all, and you obviously weren't ignoring him, so what was this about? Maybe you weren't feeling well suddenly?

"You feeling okay, sweetheart?"

Turning your body to face him, your equally as confused expression only eased his worries slightly. "Yeah, I'm alright. Why?"

Deciding it was probably best to be direct, Lando spoke again. "You pushed me away!"

You couldn't help but giggle at the adorable pout on his face, suddenly feeling bad for not explaining your behaviour earlier. "Lan, my love, I'm so sorry! I promise I'm not mad at you or anything, it's just because of the weather."

"The weather?" His expression changed, a slight frown settling into his brow as he waited for you to continue speaking.

"It's too hot," you explained. "It's my first summer in Monaco, I wasn't expecting it to be this warm. I didn't want to cuddle because I knew I would overheat."

Lando mentally slapped himself for not thinking of that as a possibility. He had lived here for a few years so he was used to the unrelenting sunshine by now, but you had only moved in with him recently so of course you weren't. He couldn't help but laugh at how much he was stressing over something so small.

"You idiot, making me panic like that!" The brunette scolded you playfully. You stared up at him innocently, batting your eyelashes with a smile.

Lando suddenly grabbed hold of your waist, and you shrieked loudly. You wriggled helplessly in his grasp, as he tickled you sides, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"I'll stop if you say sorry."

"Never," you gasped, swatting at his hands. He merely shrugged, tickling you harder.

"You sure?"

"Okay, okay, I-I'm sorry!" You managed between breathless pants.

Lando grinned cheekily at you, allowing you a moment to catch your breath before he leaned in to kiss you softly. You threw your arms around his neck tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss. When you finally had to pull away for air, he rested his forehead against yours.

"I thought you were too hot," he teased, causing you to groan again and smack his shoulder. Lando pressed another quick kiss to your lips before continuing, "and for the record, I am definitely buying you like 20 fans tomorrow."