#my hand slipped or something idk!!!

[hitoshiskitty]

jason redraw of that one summer magazine model.. truly a trend setter…

[the-dragon-hearted]

Eldritch Travelers

They remembered their creation. Who could forget it? The first sensation was that of fizzling energy. The nebula's entropy was burning with a warmth they'd never forget, dozens upon dozens of siblings lingering at the edge of their knowledge. Singing to them. Welcoming them.

They were two stars born in each other's orbit. Of all the siblings, they knew each other's melodies best. It was as if they'd been born to harmonize, completing the other simply by existing. Wrapped in stardust with a heartbeat that would've deafened lesser creatures, the two slept and sang from their nursery of radiation and chaos.

They sang to each other for the eons of their formation, in a grand symphony of their kin. Never was it silent. Never was there peace. Never was there order. It was an eternity, and yet a mere few seconds.

Before they learned the word Home, they lost it.

When the nebula collapsed, that symphony was one of screams. When such grand things got too powerful, it was only natural that such power devours itself and all the young ones it created. Gravity is its own shackle. Size its lock. Energy pulled at cloudy orbits like claws to lace curtains. Peaceful gardens of the cosmos condensed, ripping young stars out of their beds of dust and tearing little ones apart until the nebula was a desert of darkness and silence, a once mighty cradle now reduced to noiseless drifting dust.

Only two remained. They held each other close as it began, resisting the pull of their deathly cradle and ripping out of those clouds of light, warmth, and entropy. By orbiting each other, they could pull away from all else, spinning endlessly into the universe: alone, but safe.

They fled that danger together, they lived together - they survived together. The void ate them alive as they tumbled light over dark for centuries in a frantic toss of their nursery's final gasp. For an eternity, all they knew was aching silence, the cold dark, and the warmth twins share when they hold one another like a lifeline.

"You are to linger, but never rest," the cold universe said. "There is nowhere for you to return to. There is nowhere you belong."

But the two stars continued to orbit, ever resistant:

"We belong with each other. That is enough."

So they grew teeth of plasma and wings soft as comet trails. Their fledgling moments were stumbling through planetary rings and choking on the taste of old stars. Unlike most they survived. Unlike most, they grew. They learned to walk and run and fly. They taught themselves to hunt. They found joy in that expanse of silence.

Orphaned but bright, the two set upon exploring the vastness all about them. In their youth, they missed much. How many worlds did they pass up, how many wonders did they fail to explore? How many lives did they take without knowing such lives existed?

They were bright, hungry, and awful. Awe-inspiring in every sense of the word. When they entered a world they saw the power it possessed - the warmth and the energy - and they devoured all.

There was fun in it - in the dying throws of a world. Their adolescence brought them joy in the fight, even if there was no real fight to be had. It was exciting to sharpen their nails on weapons and dance in danger's grace. It made something on their tongues tingle to taste desperation and hear the dying gasps of these minuscule worlds whose music they'd not yet learned to hear.

And then the universe acknowledged them one last time.

"Travelers... Listen."

Simple words that brought the two to pause. Listen? Listen to what? The twin's siblings had been dead for eons, they'd never heard another song like the one they sang. Never found another cradle like the one they escaped. But, in their boredom the two obeyed. They paused their devouring and strained to make out anything in the present world of conquest.

The two heard it at the same time. Something soft. Something pained: The harmonizing sound of thousands and thousands of screams.

As they had. As their family had. As every world they had devoured had and all future ones would. And it brought the two stars to pause and lean closer, dampening their burning forms and softening their teeth that had been sharpened on planet's crust and cores.

There were others.

Not... like them, but also not too different. They screamed all the same, it seemed.

It was a horrifying epiphany: that they were not alone in the universe, that the darkness held other songs - other stories. Curiosity was not a new affliction, and the twins eagerly fed into it.

In the next world, they shed their monstrous forms and forsook their hunger. Blunt claws crafted a crude sort of matter that held their power without bursting at its seams. Teeth and tongue fumbled over words and breaths.

But they stumbled into that story not as it's ending, but as an observer.

The first few times they were met with horror. They smiled too wide or laughed too sharply. They shrugged off the impossible or fed into an appetite just a tad too unsettling. They thirsted for an explanation that few mortals could give. They challenged something the world was not ready to handle.

The forms took a few worlds to perfect, and each world had different denizens to tailor such worlds too. But such things were wondrous to the twins.

Appearance. Name. Identity.

No longer were they the faceless horrors that wandered or devoured. No - they were the Travelers. They were the star born or the blessed, the wishing ones or the celestial blooded. They were whatever the current world called them and more.

They were Aether and Lumine. A brother. A sister. They were alive.

Each world was brimming with opportunities and lessons. Each like a mini nebula, with it's own melody. The two were utterly enraptured. No longer did they sing alone, no longer did they devour or wallow in boredom. There were universes within universes, puzzles and mysteries, souls and memories, personalities and tragedies.

There was life, and it was all so fleeting and momentary but rich. These beings would never know both the birth of their world and its death. These beings were not meant to leave the soil they were born on, and yet that tether was their freedom.

They were born into a world knowing it was theirs. Free to do as they please, whatever they please, and make waves in their wake. Their lives were short but the smallest of choices were blessings to the twins.

Every meal. Every bed. Every midnight stroll and loving word. Every scream of terror or cry of determination. Every sunrise and sunset. Every bad joke or distant story. Every breath was so precious to temporary beings, and that was intoxicating.

The two were enraptured by how much purpose the smallest of tasks had in a short life. They chased after it and devoured worlds in a new manner.

Stories. They learned stories. Precious histories shared through breaths and memories - corporeal beasts seeking permanence in memory. The Travelers found a new purpose. The stars bent to their whim and the stories nested in their minds - each world offered up its lifeblood to the twins and in return, they aligned the stars for a different sky.

So that another world would know this one's pain, joy, and life. They could pass along the desire of permanence - they were permanent, and in exchange, the worlds would offer their mortality.

The twins were able to explore life as most beings did, each world new and happy to share some of its air with monsters who breathed in solar flares. They learned to cook, to dance, to sing, to stumble, over and over and over again. No two worlds were the same: the universe held no solid rules, no real limitations, and so they were given that same leniency. It was true joy to find mortality over and over and over again.

It was pain too.

Pain and anguish and loneliness and eventual apathy.

And then it was Tevyat.

It was scars on their backs - a memory of a scream in their heads.

"AETHER!"

"LUMINE!"

Of all their cradle-mates, they were the only named two. When their siblings had died, there had only been screams of pain and shock. When the twins were ripped from each other, they could only scream for their missing half.

Two stars were thrown out of orbit. Doomed to eclipse each other for the first time in their very, very long lives. Their reunion was not a joyous dance, but a dark, dark day.

But before the reunion was the loss:

The world's rules had caught them by surprise. Never had they met a world that wanted to make them stay. Leave? Of course. Fight? Naturally. All worlds wanted to defend themselves from such monstrous beings - and yet this one seemed to spin in retrograde.

Why else tempt world eaters? Why pluck the wings from a Traveler's back? Why strip power from a being with an infinite source of it? Surely that strange god knows she's on borrowed time.

Oh she can take their power and trap them beneath skin. She can torment the poor mortals around them, bending these young archons to her hands and setting rules in her divinity.

But... she must also know:

Aether wants the rule's blood to soak the clouds.

Lumine wants divine ichor between her teeth.

And yet the two cannot repair what 500 years divides them. A blink of an eye for their species, but not for a mortal. And isn't that what they are when they take these forms? Isn't that what they're seeking?

Mortality.

The first one finds it in a bloodied city. They find it in hate and rage and vengeful retribution. They find it with an abyssal crown and, ironically enough, a distaste for the wretched gods who have not learned the same lessons the twins have.

For an immortal to disregard the lives of the mortals... for such young immortals to destroy civilization for the crime of curiosity...

They cannot understand it, and so, in their search for mortality, they find hate. And that seemed to be close enough.

The second one finds it at the end of a fishing pole and with the extended hand of a red-clad outrider. They find it in the stories and the life all around them, never filling the void of their missing twin, but eagerly taking that loneliness and warming it more than a nebula could.

It is second nature to find enrichment in these stories. To paint them in the stars as the Traveler's smaller powers return. They call to the stars and craft constellations in the image of those dear to them.

Every so often they peer at a special one, half-completed, but named all the same.

The Twin Constellation.

The Abyss and the Traveler. The Villain and the Hero. Prince and Princess. Not Lumine. Not Aether.

Not anymore.

They mourn and they seethe... and sometimes the two, though miles and centuries apart collapse at the same time. Back itching. Skin tight and blood roiling. They heave out air that tastes strange and run a tongue over their blunted teeth. Even their hands are softer now - no claws to be seen.

They lay, staring up at the stars as they writhe, and remembering millions of other skies - and yet these bodies have seen no other.

They were not meant to be this. They are not this.

But they are trapped here. And they cannot fully remember before - a mortal's mind can only hold so much - but they know it's there. They know what they are meant to be.

But they are not.

They are not even Aether and Lumine anymore.

They are figureheads. Nameless as they first were - and now must be. Because Aether was named so Lumine could call out to him. Because Lumine was named so Aether could get her attention. Because those names were only meant to be for the other's voice to echo...

And, like the last gasps of their siblings, like the cries of their victims, like the world's who have fallen and entrusted the twins with their memories - the two curl in on themselves, like collapsing nebulas, and they scream.

[neurotypical-sonic]

been wanting to make a short comic for a while but never could come up with an idea that like. wouldnt completely overwhelm me, because I've never drawn one before. but now I know what I'm gonna do. sonic's adventure in bouse sitting

[nectorbruise]

DAY 25: Melt

Grace chastity watching a glass full of ice water melts as her skin melts off. The idea of this came up as an intrusive thought and I just went for it. Have not been drawing a lot of scary shit this month, I apologize.

Tomorrows prompt is footprints.

[zestyaahbutler]

[eternal-reverie]

Made the Elephant True Bluefin Sauté today!

[mrdrhenwardhykle]

Since when could mans afford to get a nice black button down in the 1400’s????

[deanpinterester]

sometimes i think about the time i failed a midterm (and i mean failed in a literal sense, not like "aw i got a B+") while i was in an enriched high school program where everyone else was getting A's. in hindsight it should have been clear i needed help and i was struggling. but all the teacher said was to try harder next time

[hakugreenfinch]

the thing about testimone is like i want it to be good but i also know it just cant quite satisfy me as much as my personal headcanon for how these motherfuckers met.

that is, a runaway teen and someone a little older but also a former runaway teen sitting in the bathroom of a busted gas station where the latters friend lets them stay after fucking up criminal activities at the same place. where idk one realizes he isnt a girl and isnt all alone and the other realizes hes tired of doing everything on his own. something something "hey so there are more ways to be a guy? tell me more youre literally so pretty" something something "i didnt *have to* get you out of there before the cops arrived but damn your unblinking stare is making me feel nice things. wanna rob a bank together?"

[i-love-you-just-the-same]

something I do a lot without even meaning to is call people babe, honey, sweetheart, etc, but it's usually in a context that's a joke not like just in passing etc. it's the southern or the whore in me, idk. it's not even flirty, I just do it for the silliness. but when someone does something especially nice for me I occasionally go "you're the love of my life" or "we're getting married." no idea why I chose to express myself this way, but usually it gets a blush or a giggle (very rarely do I do this to a man).

however, I would do it to simon riley.

it's some small task that would only take ten minutes max. he brought you a sandwich from the mess or he finished up a bit of paperwork for you. so you forget yourself in glee and it slips out.

"Riley, we're getting married"

he freezes as you chirp out a "thanks babe!" as an afterthought and munch while filling out a health survey.

he just stares at you, nods, and heads off. you thought that'd be the end of it until he turns up an hour later with a bountonniere and a bouquet. he shoves the later at you.

"heard you say you liked these once" he mumbles as he sits down beside you. you look up confused at him.

"Riley, what are these for?" you say with a little grin. you've never got flowers from anyone before.

"my wife gets what she wants. always." he says, placing a hand on your thigh. "c'mon. not open much longer."

your eyes widen at his words. he tugs you up and out, asking if you have anything you want to wear or should you guys stop somewhere to pick up a dress. he swears he won't look beforehand, he'll just see you at the courthouse in it. he'll pay and he's got a dinner reservation afterward, sorry it's not before! do you want to take his last name?

please, doll, call him simon.

gaz is going to do pictures and price and soap will be witnesses. he's sorry it's rushed bird, but the quicker it's official the quicker he can start his husbandly duties.

[neo-nomatrix]

CAN’T TOUCH ME LIKE GOJO

what gojo does when he’s jealous

cw - gojo uses red as a punishment, smut, jealousy, possessiveness, riding, teasing, kinda toxic gojo idk, bratty reader, rough gojo

Gojo was making you mad, beyond livid. He had brought you to this stuffy gala full of his balding colleagues and ditched you! You found solace in the bar holding an aperol spritz staring at your husband. He was beautifully dressed cream suit with a million dollar smile as he talks to his coworkers about business.

He hasn’t even thrown you a glance since he left your side. Normally you would still be next to him acting as arm candy but for whatever reason he left you to drink your sorrows. You assumed you would be stuck there for another hour or two with nothing to do. Until Hiromi Higuruma approached you. A man you had no idea was even distantly related to Gojos company.

“Mrs.Gojo, a pleasure seeing you somewhere besides with Satoru,” The man teases.

“Hiromi! Are you here to save me from this awful night?” It seems the lord has answered your prayers.

“You’re not enjoying yourself? Doesn’t Gojo normally keep by him at all times?” He asks, taking a seat next to you.

“Something’s up with him I guess, I’ve barely seen him all night and it’s horrible!” You complain.

“Oh sweetheart, how could he possibly treat someone as pretty as you like that?” He moves a piece of your hair out of your face and stares at you.

“I know! I mean he invited me here, and then has the audacity to leave me,” You pout to him.

“For the record, I would never treat you like that,” he smiles at you.

You look over at Gojo and he still isn’t looking in your direction. You decide to tease both the men a little more.

“Really? Do you promise ‘Romi?” You give him your best doe eyes and touch his bicep.

“On my life, sweetheart,” You both smile at each other.

In the corner of your eye you see a head of white hair coming toward you. Panic sets in but you can’t help but rub your legs together. You continue putting your hands on Higurumas chest to further instigate the situation.

“Babe, there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you,” Gojo pulls the back of your stool so you can’t touch Higuruma anymore and he wraps a large hand around your waist, “Higuruma, you’re also here.”

“I was just talking to your gorgeous wife Gojo. After you left her alone to talk to those gross executives,” Higuruma says.

Gojos jaw clenched and he squeezed your waist. His look of disgust apparent on his face.

“I think it’s about time my wife and I leave. Should I call you a cab Higuruma?” Gojo says.

“I’ll be alright,” Higuruma laughs.

Gojo pulls you away from the bar and quickly takes you away from the party. He ignores everyone asking where he’s going or trying to talk to him. Immediately as he reaches the car he opens and slams the door for you. He doesn’t speak a single word on the way home, despite your efforts to start conversation.

As you reach your home he’s immediately getting you through the door and up the stairs, he shoves you onto the bed as he removes his jacket. You hear him muttering swears under his breath.

“Do you enjoy being a slut who pisses me off? Hm? I mean really, what possibly do you get out of this?” He starts to undo the first few buttons of his shirt before he grabs your chin.

“I asked you a fucking question,” He growls at you.

“You left me! You left me all alone! I don’t know what you wanted from me, to just sit there twiddling my thumbs until you came back?” You argue at him, giving a big pout.

“What I don’t want is for you flirting with that piece of shit in front of everyone? You know how embarrassing that is, not only for me, but for you?!” He slips off his boxers to reveal his semi hard cock.

He pulls you up and puts you on your knees. He’s on his back and your face is inches away from his cock. But before you can wrap your lips around him something stops you. A force you can’t describe, red. He activated his repelling force to punish you.

You’re confused, upset, even angry at him. His usual punishment involves him overstimulating you but apparently not this time. You try to get past the barrier, using all your might to touch his cock. Yet nothing works, he’s the strongest after all.

“What did he call you?” He asks you, releasing red for you until you almost touch him, then activating it again.

“Sweetheart…” you whisper to him.

“And you fucking let him. That’s the part that pisses me off the most. I know he can’t have you, fuck, he knows it. But it doesn’t seem like you do,” He says back, piercing blue eyes scanning your face.

You crawl on top of him, the barrier between your pussy and his cock still apparent. You try desperately to grind down on him to no avail. Tears start to form in your eyes but Gojo doesn’t seem to care.

“You want it inside you, sweetheart? Or do you want ‘Romi?” He mocks you.

“YOU! I just wanted your attention, promise! I got so mad you left me by myself. See?! All i want is you,” You whine as Gojo smiles at you.

In a moment the red hue turns blue and you get sucked down onto his perfectly aligned cock. You’re stuck to him like a magnet. His size makes you scream and want to pull away, but you can’t. As soon as you pull away you’re sucked back onto him, you thought torture wasn’t supposed to be addicting.

“Fuck Higuruma, fuck him and all the stupid guys there. You thought i wasn’t paying attention to you? I wanted you so fucking bad I had to stay away or else you’d be on the floor with my cock inside you,” He grunts, hands gripping your waist.

“Toru! It’s too much!” You’re full on sobbing at this point, legs shaking and body sweaty.

“You don’t want him right? It was just to make me mad, right baby?” He asks you desperately, his hair falling perfectly in front of his eyes.

“Yes! I just wanted you to fuck me, I swear,” You squeal.

His hips rut into your sloppy cunt as both of you moan and pant like two bunnies in heat. His fingers expertly tease your clit and he sucks blue and red hickies on every part of your body. He’s holding you as close as possible. His thrusts get sloppy and his moans get slutty.

“Gonna cum inside you baby, gonna fill my pussy up everyone’s gonna fucking know you’re mine,” He says in your ear.

“I’m gonna-“ Before you can even finish your sentence you pulse around his cock cumming so hard you see black.

He follow not long after, spurting hot ropes of cum inside you. He gets as deep as possible to ensure nothing slips out. He releases the technique and you fall on top of his chest, breathing like you just ran a marathon.

“Holy shit baby, that was so good,” He says, smiling.

“Yeah… i wanna take a bath,” you look up at him.

“Okay my love, just promise me one thing. Never make me jealous again.”

[baduzzxy]

part 2

idk how many times i have to say this but IM OBSSESED WITH SECRETBABY!TROPE LIKE CRAZY. IM SHACKLING MY CHAINS AND IM SHAKING THE BARS OF MY CELL FOR IT.

like just imagine being John Price’s “the one that got away” and 2 years later he sees you pulling up at the grocery store with a big, chubby, blue-eyed baby. Maybe your baby got the slope of your nose and the thickness of your brows, but MY GOD that baby is no doubt Price’s.

Imagine the utter shock and the itchy feeling of wanting to lather some love on that baby when he first saw you, carrying his cub on your hip while you browse this week’s meal-prep.

And it’s like your baby knows, turns to rest her chubby cheeks on your shoulder and stares at him. It’s like looking into a mirror and that alone made him throw all purpose of approaching you politely. Just straight walking up to you with his chest puffed up and blurts out “that’s my child.”

GODDD THE DRAMA i can concur up in my MINDDDD like that man spent half of his life surrounded by war, blood on his cheeks and scars on his hands. Give him something soft to hold onto and he’ll bite, never letting it go. So when you gave him the chance to be present in his daughter’s life? yeah you are so done, might as well willingly be his again. That man has no intentions in doing “co-parenting.” like what the fuck is even that?

he’s so delusional too omg when you tried to finally join the dating scene again? he’s pulling up in the meet-up cafes, restaurants, hell even the movie theater. Just straight up ruining the entire date. You can’t even confront him without having your blood boil, because he’s got the audacity the size of Europe.

“Wot’ d’ya mean, doll? jus’ happen to be in the same place as you guys were in.”

“John- just! get out.”

He’s gonna use your baby as leverage omg that evil evil man. Lame ass excuses too.

“C’mon darl, not even a lil peck? look, our princess ‘s watchin, she’s going to think mama and daddy don’t like each other.”

“Get dressed, luv. Gonna bring you to this cute restaurant- no of course not, our baby loves their food! wouldn’t you want her happy?”

“what? you’ve gone off to another man? what about our baby?”

And when he forges your signature in wedding papers? yeah no. You can’t escape no more. You’ve slipped from his fingers once, and his not planning on letting it happen again.

[tojisun]

idk something about price just helping you dress up makes my stomach clench-unclench. it’s just a quiet thing, underlying a prominent, but unsaid, dynamic—dom price.

how he actively chooses some articles you can wear—this shirt or these pants, with this bag or this jewelry. darling whatever it is, you are beautiful, but he just loves that you’re wearing something he likes.

how he helps you put on your shoes. he’ll kneel on the floor and place your foot atop his thigh, callused palm massaging the length of your tibia before dipping down to slip your shoes in.

how he just grunts through the tremors and numbness of his hands, insisting that he be the one to clasp your necklace together. you sit there, quiet, watching him from the mirror. you track the furrow of his brows, the downturn of his lips; you gaze at the lines on his face, noting how they’re softer under the orange lights. he looks handsome like this, caring for you even when you know that the multiple surgeries done to his hands have rendered little clasps like the ones on your jewelry his enemies.

how, when he’s done, he’ll swoop down and kiss the back of your neck. his eyes will flick up to look at you from the mirror, and like this, in his arms, with his heavy gaze, you have never felt more desired.

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

Ok. If anybody wants the way-too-hyperspecific-to-possibly-be-accurate-but-my-brain-ran-away-with-it thing that I'm picturing, I had to get it out of my head vvv

So -- and once I actually *read* Messiah I'll have a more concrete concept on this -- some context: as of now my main guess for the 3rd film is that it's gonna jump around in time and not be a clear linear narrative. That we'll see snippets of post-holy war existence without much context (at least for non-book readers) at first, which are then intercut with scenes from right where Part 2 left off, and back and forth like that so the audience steadily pieces together where the two meet up. That's just my guess/I think it would be Neat.

Ok

So my way way too specific Idea is like. We begin with very not subtle parallels to the way Part 1 began. Starting with a scene with Chani (honestly I have no idea what exactly this scene would be) that appears to be from where Part 2 left off but then is revealed to be in the present. Then we cut to The Past. Parallel to how part 1 began, going from Chani to a closeup of Paul, asleep. This time clearly still beaten to a pulp. The way it's angled it looks like he's lying down, but the camera slowly tilts to show he's actually upright and slumped against a wall (funnily Denis actually used a similar shot in Part 1 when Paul wakes up in the ornithopter). He very slowly opens his eyes. In a wider shot we see he's in a room somewhere on the imperial ship (I guess?), alone, clumsily bandaged. There's a medical kit of some kind near him and supplies still scattered by where he's sitting, indicating he fell asleep or passed out shortly after patching himself up. He sits up slowly and after taking a moment to compose himself picks up right where he presumably left off; readjusting the bandages, disinfecting, actually cleaning the blood from his face that he hasn't had a chance to yet. He's clearly still in pain, disoriented, having difficulty moving at all -- but there's a mechanical, emotionless feeling to everything he does. For a few seconds he sits there, exhausted. Then he gets to his feet, arranges his clothes so the wounds are hidden, pulls that hooded cloak around himself. His face is in shadow, hidden to us. He puts on his hood and turns away, the camera following him from behind as he staggers out of whatever room he's locked himself in, out through a corridor...and into a room crowded with his followers, celebrating their most recent victory. And it's not his bruised, hooded face we see, but theirs.

It's definitely not going to happen, but I think it would be neat.

I know this is a long shot, and I have no idea how Messiah is even going to be handled onscreen in regards to the time jump, but I'd love a scene of Paul wrapping up his own wounds from the end of Part 2. Because one, you can't just injure your main character That Much and then never follow up on it in any way.

But more importantly I want that emphasis on how alone he is. I need the narrative to keep acknowledging that. Despite being so important *in theory*, he isn't protected, he isn't cared about. He's a thing to be in awe of and be terrified of. So having him alone, injured, taking care of himself in private with nobody watching him or following him...and then having him drag himself back to his feet to go commit more war crimes immediately after showing him in a deeply vulnerable and lonesome position would be. hm. something.

[fictionalmenxyn]

hi can you write rafe x wife. Happily married and have 3 teen kids. Sons friends comes over and talks about mom as milf( idk maybe something else up to u) and Rafe and his wife hear it! Then Rafe f*cks her

of course I can!!

•———•

ఌ𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧ఌ

Pairing: husband!rafe x wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT, language, p in v, fingering, no mentions of protection (be safe, wrap it before u tap it!), breeding kink, dirty talk, possessive/jealous Rafe.

Feel free to send more reqs! Thinking of doing dad!Rafe so send me things you’d like to see! Or more husband!rafe idm! Anything!

🝮🝮🝮

Just getting home from work, you got out of your Range Rover. Collecting your handbag, laptop and some papers from the back seat.

You headed into yours and Rafe’s estate. Walking through the front door. You already knew your three sons had friends over. Your eldest, Cody had asked you over text. You slip your heels off by the door and walk through the large foyer and over to the spacious living room. You smiled as you saw your boys Cody (17), Morgan (16) and Ollie (14 1/2). You spoke “hey boys, you all having fun?” They all said their “heys” and “yeah, thanks”.

You subtly noticed the way their friends eyed you up. Teenage boys never really cared if you saw them checking woman out. Well, these lot didn’t. You looked over to the attached large kitchen, smiling as you see Rafe.

You walked over, putting your things onto the counter. Rafe was leaning forward. His elbows on the counter as he watched the tv from the kitchen as your sons and their friends had soccer on. You walked over to Rafe. Smiling as you put your hand on his back. “Hey, love, you ok?” He turns his head to look at you. His famous grin plastered on his face. “Yeah, all good, how’s work?” He pulls you by the waist. Giving you a soft but firm kiss, showing you how much he missed you since you left this morning. You pull away to answer “good, made some great photos today, all I have to do is change the lighting and tone..” he smiled and pecked your lips “good, can I watch it while you do it?”

Rafe loved what you did. You were a photographer for models, perfume/jewellery commercials or fashion designers. You took the photos and edited them to put on magazines or advertisements. He loved how much you enjoyed your job to.

You nodded “of course, Rafey” he smiled “good girl..” you pecked his cheek.

You sat at the island counter, going through the photos on your laptop. As Rafe leaned against the counter, arms crossed, taking the occasional sip from his drink.

You both overheard Cody and his friend talk. His friend, Jack, asked “dude, is that your older sister or something?” Cody asked “who?” Jack replied “the one that’s in the kitchen with your dad.” Cody shook his head “nah man, that’s my mom.” Jack replied “no fucking way?? She’s so hot, dude, your mom is such a milf, no joke.”

Rafe practically chocked on his drink, as your eyes widen and press your hand to your forehead. A quiet gasp escaped your lips. What did Jack just say? You couldn’t be going mad, Rafe heard the same thing.

Cody spoke “shut up! Don’t say that!” Jack shrugged nonchalantly “dude, I’m just saying, I’d tap that if I could.”

Your eyes widen, Rafe’s jaw clenched. Rafe didn’t need to be and wasn’t jealous… not exactly… he just didn’t like the fact that a seventeen year old friend of your sons had just said that about you… his wife, the mother of his children, his childhood friend, his lover…

Through the rest of the day, Rafe stuck to your side. You’d changed into some sweats and a crop top. Once you were done you both sat on the couch; Rafe next to you. He had his arm around you the whole time. Occasionally kissing your cheek or temple. Showing the boys, your his. He’s the one that put that beautiful diamond ring on your finger. He’s the one that put three beautiful and handsome boys in you. He helped you create life. He’s the one that gives you happiness.

🝮🝮🝮

Soon after, the sun started to set. Your three sons had asked both Rafe and yourself if they could stay the night at one of the boys house. Rafe agreed and told them to be safe and have fun.

As soon as he had shut that front door. You were in for a real treat tonight. Rafe walked back over to the couch. He put his one knee on the seat and he placed a hand on the side of your neck. His cold metal of his rings and watch press gently into your warm neck. He crashes his lips into yours like a starved man. His tongue quick to be shoved into your mouth. You knew what he was up to. You could tell it from the exact moment Cody’s friend said what he said about you.

You knew Rafe since day one, knew him better than he knew himself. So you knew what he was doing. And you were definitely not complaining.

Rafe placed one hand one your thigh and guided you so you laid back on the couch. While he stayed on top of you. He groaned against your lips. He mumbled “‘m gonna make you feel so good, baby” you gasped softly when you feel Rafe’s hips press against yours. He puts his free hand from your thigh, moving it to the waistband of your sweats.

Putting his hand down your sweats he could feel the material of your panties and your soft, wet skin. He groaned “you wearing the black lace ones?” You nodded. He grinned “all f’me…mine” you mumbled “yes, Rafey…”

His fingers slowly move up and down against your heat. You moaned softly. You gasp when you felt his middle finger slip in. He tilted his head and started to kiss along your neck. He groaned, his finger slowly pulling in and out. As he inhaled the sent of your vanilla perfume, he groaned once again. He mumbled against your soft skin “feel so good on my finger, want another, babe?” You nodded. He replied “words. y/n.” You whispered “another, please, Rafe” he slipped his ring finger in. Causing you to gasp softly.

After a few more seconds he pulled his fingers out. You whimpered, he grinned “oh we aren’t done, just wanna take you upstairs… prefer the bed.” Your mouth practically waters as you watch him move his fingers to his mouth. Cleaning you off his digits.

He picks you up, over his shoulder. Taking you upstairs and not wasting anymore time.

Placing you down on the bed, he was quick to take your clothes off. All piece of clothing on the floor. While he starts to take his off, you watched in awe. Your reaction to him will always be the same. It’s like looking at him for the first time, over and over. You never got tired of him. Never have and never will.

You watched as he was swift to remove his boxers. His huge length springing free. He moved onto the bed. His lips go to yours as his hand moves to his length. Pumping it a few times, then lining up with your entrance. You gasp as he started to push in. Once he was all the way in he leaned over you. His chain dangles by your chin. His hands either side of your shoulders. His biceps flex as he looks down at you.

“You’re so pretty under me, sweetheart.” You moaned softly as he slowly started to move in and out. He chuckled lowly “you know, what the boys said… was right..” he groaned. “You are a milf… my milf… such a hot momma, baby… I know you want another… want me to give you one?” You moaned as he picked up the pace a little more. “Words, sweetheart.” You nodded “yes, fuck! Want another…”

He moaned hearing your words, “fuck Y/n, I’ll give you another… I’ll fill you up, make your baby bump come back. Love you baby bumps… every one of them…” you moaned. His one hand moves to your lower stomach, pushing on the bulge on your lower abdomen. Causing you to moan, as he goes deeper.

He picks up his pace, he moaned “fuck, gonna make you pregnant again. Wanna see you with my baby in you again.” He goes harder. “Fuck can feel you round me, that make you excited, baby? Thinking of me getting you pregnant again?”

You nodded, grabbing onto his bicep. Nails digging into his tan skin. He groans at the feeling. He spoke “gonna give ya a girl this time, I wanna girl, so I can spoil you both, yeah? Let you two have the world.” You moan “oh Rafey!” He grinned. “Yeah? Like that?” You nodded. He leaned back. Grabbing your hips, guiding you against him as he thrusts into you.

He can feel your close, “gonna come f’me? Let me have it, sweetheart. You do that f’me and I’ll do it for ya..” you placed your hand on his chest. Then holding his chain. Wanting him closer, he knew you well. He knew that meant you were about to finish. He leaned down. You moaned “fuck, gonna-” “do it, finish over my cock f’me, love…” those words hit you like a brick wall. Every. God. Damn. Time.

And he knew it too.

You moaned one last time, then finishing. Causing you to tighten around him. He chased his realise and finished inside you.

He moaned as he slowed his pace. Still thrusting, just slowing down. Chasing both of your climaxes. Once he came to a spot. You had you usual ‘thank you’. He kissed both cheeks, then your forehead, temples, chin, nose and then your lips. He mumbled against your lips “you ok? Feel good, baby? You did so good..” You nodded “so good.”

He gently pulled out, causing you both to inhale sharply. He gently picked you up. Going ahead and doing your aftercare. For all the time you both knew each other. And past Rafe, with his many hook ups. Not once did he do aftercare. But for you? His childhood friend to girlfriend to fiancée to wife to mother of his children?

He’d give you the world, he’d kill for you. Protect you. Die for you, live for you. He’d do anything for you. Even if it’s as simple as aftercare. He loves you. You love him.

🝮🝮🝮

[rosenclaws]

ok, ok “suck on my fingers.” and “don’t make a mess, baby.” prompt with the worse wolverine? btw i love your words!!!

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, squirting, fingering, dirty talk, overstimulation, cum eating (kinda? i think thats whats this called idk he just sticks his fingers in ur mouth after fingering)

600 follower drabble masterlist

a/n: I'm gonna be so real I am coping hard rn. I am devastated and worried for the future but if writing wolverine smut is what helps that is what I shall do. I hope you like it!!

How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? Fuck at this point you'd believe that you've been here for days. Wrapped in his arms. Trapped under his adamantium bone and super human strength. The sheets slip through your fingers as your grip grows weaker. Logan has been teasing you, playing with you like a piece of meat.

Logan is upright against the headboard. He’s got your back against his chest. One of strong arms is keeping you upright. Forcing you to sit there. His other hand is shoved into your panties. He didn’t even bother to take them off.

There’s something playing on the TV in your room but you lost any sense of your surroundings about an hour ago. Logan likes to play with his food. Always has.

Your big hot boyfriend loves to make a mess of things before he eats.

“Oh Fuck Logannnn.” You whine as he slips two of his fingers into your already soaked cunt.

Your panties are soaked from Logan’s touch. He won’t even bother taking them off. He likes the obscene sight of his hands down them. Loves seeing his fingers disappear and watch your cute face scrunch up in pleasure.

You’re trying with all your might to squirm away. Not that you wanted him to stop but the pleasure was overwhelming. Your body was moving without your brain at this point. Pure instinct. Logan growls in your ear. Shoving another finger inside to shut you up.

“Quiet. I’m not done with you yet.” You tilt your neck to the side as Logan’s rough thumb starts to circle your clit harshly.

The sounds of your pleasure are loud and Logan is unashamedly eating them up. His fingers movie faster and faster. Pounding into you with a force that makes you scream. Your dripping down his hands and onto the sheets. Logan tuts and shakes his head mockingly.

“Don’t make a mess baby.” He scolds as he drives his fucking fingers deep inside of you. Fucking liar. He loves when you make a mess. Nothing boosts his ego more.

He feels so good. His fingers are tearing you apart. He’s hell bent on making you come harder than you ever have. He can never get enough. It's like a competition with himself. Making sure you know only he can do this to you over and over. A pressure builds deep in your core and your eyes widen when you feel a certain feeling.

“Logan wait I-“ Your pleas are silenced as another moan rips through your throat.

You chant his name over and over as your legs start to shake. Logan watches in awe as you squirt all over the bed. He doesn't let up as he pulls as much as he can. You're moaning only pushes him further. He's whispering dirty things in your ear but you can barely hear him. Your body is screaming in pure pleasure and its all you can hear.

"Too much." You manage to whimper out as Logan continues to fuck his fingers into you.

He hums and in a moment of mercy decides you've had enough for tonight. Such a good pet. His fingers are coated. He pulls them apart and smirks as he brings them to your lips.

“Come on, suck on my fingers." He coos as you lazily open your mouth. Your perfect pretty lips surrounding his fingers, sucking your own juices from his fingers.

"Taste yourself, see why I can't get enough of this delicious cunt." His eyes grow dark as he watches your lips take his fingers so easily. You look up with glossy eyes. Completely fucked out because of him.

"Cute." He presses a kiss to your forehead and pulls you closer. His fingers slip out of your mouth and he dips back down into your soaked underwear. You whine when he gently brushes over your sensitive clit.

"Shhh sweetheart," His moves are softer this time, gentle.

"Just relax. Let me get my taste too."