#they just get carried away when they flirt://

[swifty-fox]

coping with fluff and christmas fic

“Hey,” the clerk greets him, wiping chlorophyll-stained hands on his smock, “What can I do for you?”

“Is the owner around?” Gale asks.

That easygoing smile directed at every other customer so far slightly fades in wattage. 

“That would be me,” He says. His green apron has a nametag labeled ‘Bucky’ and his hand when he holds it out is still stained, smelling of dirt and sap and fresh cold water, “What problem can I fix?” 

He has a loose-limbed way of moving, leading with his extremities rather than the bulk of his body, like a dog not quite grown into its frame. Gale feels himself prickle, the faint spice of attraction, though it could just be irritation lost en route. Either way, it’s politeness that doesn’t have him rubbing the sticky cling of sap from his fingers and or from outright asking if he had any idea how to run a business. 

“Your phone,” is the compromise of temper, only a brief window for this conversation to happen, and a preservative interest in getting away from those eyes. 

Bucky's smile doesn’t falter, though it takes on a puzzled slant, “My phone.”

“Your phone is routing to our shop,” Gale explains, slowly, like one might to a child, “I’ve been fielding calls all day asking if you carry sunflowers.”

“We do,” Bucky informs him, reaching for the phone.

“That’s great,” Gale answers mildly. 

They can both hear the sound of the dial tone, and Bucky’s brow creases in a frown as he pulls his phone from his pocket. The screen is cracked, the phone case covered in stickers of different national parks, the lock screen is a picture of a sports stadium. It’s a far cry from the smooth black case of Gale’s own phone, his home screen a picture of Pilot asleep on his chest, hugging her own feet. 

“Been watching you guys paint, kept meaning to come over and introduce myself but holidays are killer,” Bucky explains, still fiddling around with his phone. Gale resists the urge to tap his foot, straightening his back the longer he waits. 

“It used to be a hair salon, and god those ladies would come over here all the time just to flirt. We could barely get any work done, broke their hearts when I had to shoot them down. I mean you boys are welcome to come over and do the same thing, cos’ I don’t discriminate, but I’ll ask you gotta at least buy some flowers when you do.” 

“I’ll be sure to let them know.”

Making a soft noise of triumph, Bucky holds out his phone, close enough to Gale’s face that he has to squint, reach for his glasses until he realizes he left them back in the studio. He squints, frowning. 

“Google’s got my number over your shop,” Bucky wiggles his phone, as if that would make it any easier for Gale to read. He pulls it away and Gale blinks his eyes back into focus, frowning harder.

“How do we fix it?”

“I dunno,” Bucky shrugs, “Usually you can go in and edit it yourself, but I can’t get into mine. I think it’s down.”

His own phone confirms much the same and Gale bites his tongue on a curse, wanting a cigarette with an ache that borders on nausea, “Fine. I gotta get back. Look– just. Keep trying will you? I don’t know what the hell an Azaelia is.”

Bucky points behind him with an uncapped blue pen, a scribbled-upon green sticky note clamped between his two fingers, “That one.” 

“Thanks,” Gale says, throat slightly strangled. 

“This is my number. Shoot me a text if you need help answering any floral questions.” 

He would not be doing that.

“Sure,” He pinches the piece of paper between two fingers, winding his way back to the front door. 

[fanficlolsblog]

ETHAN LANDRY HEADCANONS

back to my main masterlist

• ethan is awkward around you at first, stumbling over his words and blushing whenever you’re around. but there’s a softness in the way he looks at you, like he’s memorizing every detail of your face.

• he tries to impress you by being helpful, offering to carry your books or help with assignments, even though he’s usually a bit shy about it. you notice his efforts, and it makes you smile because his nervousness is kind of endearing.

• he has this way of staring at you when he thinks you’re not looking—his gaze lingering a bit too long, like he’s mesmerized. when you catch him, he quickly looks away, pretending to be focused on something else, but the flush on his cheeks gives him away.

• ethan’s not great at grand romantic gestures, but he shows he cares in small, thoughtful ways. maybe it’s a coffee left on your desk in the morning or a favorite snack placed in your bag when you’re not looking. he’s quiet about it, but it’s his way of showing affection.

• when you’re alone together, ethan feels more at ease. he loves listening to you talk, and sometimes he gets lost in your voice, nodding along with a soft smile. the more time you spend together, the more he opens up, revealing his own insecurities and hopes.

• he’s fiercely protective of you, even though he’s not the most physically intimidating guy. ethan would do anything to keep you safe, often standing just a bit closer to you in crowds or giving others a wary look if they get too close. it’s subtle, but his concern is always there.

• he gets jealous easily but tries to hide it, though you can tell by the way he gets quiet whenever someone else flirts with you. his jaw tightens, and he avoids eye contact, but when you reassure him with a smile or a touch, he relaxes, knowing he has your attention.

• ethan loves spending time with you, even if it’s doing nothing at all. his favorite moments are when you’re curled up together, either talking about everything and nothing or just sitting in comfortable silence. it’s in these quiet moments that he feels closest to you.

• he has this habit of playing with your fingers whenever you’re sitting together. it’s a nervous, absent-minded gesture, but it’s also intimate, like he needs to feel connected to you, even in the smallest ways.

• there’s a vulnerability in the way ethan loves you, like he’s afraid of losing you. he’s not used to feeling this strongly for someone, and sometimes it overwhelms him. but you ground him, remind him that you’re not going anywhere, and that’s all he really needs.

[moonsgemini]

kinda sorry - firefighter!rafe

-

summary: After months of a cat & mouse game Rafe finally gets his favorite waitress alone. He doesn’t even care if it’s at his place of work.

warning: 18+, firefighter!rafe x waitress!reader, fem reader, SMUT! these people are freaks!! dirty talk, oral, cum play & eating (I’m so sorry?), praise kink, fingering, cursing, p in v

an: hiiiii this is so smutty I actually need to repent my sins. I promise I’m working on the next part of cherry wine I just cannot figure out how to end it so in the mean time enjoy another firefighter rafe fic. Does it kinda suck ? yeah.

-

You wiped the same spot on the counter for the fifth time as you looked at the clock on the wall behind you. It was already fifteen past seven and they weren’t here yet. You were starting to get antsy. They always showed up at seven like clock work and you hadn’t seen them leave for a call. No flashing lights and loud sirens had been heard or seen.

God you felt pathetic. When did your life come this?

Pining over a hot firefighter who worked across the street and probably only acknowledges your existence for free slices of pie and haphazard flirting. He was so handsome you’d let him flirt with you for free pie any time. You really did feel pathetic, but it had been a long time since a very attractive man made your palms sweat and stomach flutter. Even if there was a chance it was all just out of boredom on his end.

When that hope in your chest that they’d come began to diminish you looked up one more time, just in case. That’s when you spotted the group men walking out of the fire station across the street. A smile involuntarily appeared on your lips. Your favorite part of the week finally arrived.

You’ve been working at Penny’s since high school so you were familiar with the little routine the men across the street carried on. You had grown up with most of the guys having known them since you were a teenager. A couple of them now even being your old classmates. Except for him.

Rafe had started a few months ago and you hadn’t stopped thinking about him since his first visit to Penny’s. It was rare to see a handsome face like his in this small town. It was rare to see a new face period.

You spotted him right away. He could surprisingly pull off the buzzcut and mustaches always did something for you. He was tall with big arms, how could anyone not like him.

From behind the register you watch through the windows as he laughed at something one of the other guys said rubbing his hand over his mustache. A habit you noticed he had. God did he look as handsome as ever. You wanted to know what his mustache felt like against the skin of your neck and against your inner thighs.

The bell above the door rang as the group of men walked into the small diner. You pretended to be busy by wiping the spot next to the one that you had spent the last fifteen minutes on. Doing your best to seem nonchalant like you hadn’t been anticipating their arrival all day by staring out the windows. You would never do something like that.

You looked up and smiled at the familiar faces welcoming them in. They greeted you as they walked to their usual booth in the corner.

Rafe was the last to walk in giving you a smirk and a small nod as he passed. His navy blue tee shirt fit tightly over his chest and biceps. Always a sight for sore eyes. You were practically drooling, you wanted to bite him. Wanted to feel his big hands all over your skin.

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath feeling your cheeks get hot. You needed to push those thoughts away or you’d do something embarrassing. Brushing your hands on your apron you approached them, pulling out your favorite pen and sticker covered order book.

You may or may not have put a little more effort into your appearance today. For no particular reason of course, but if he was going to flirt with you then you might as well play into it. At least that’s what you told yourself when you applied lashes and added some blush to your cheeks.

“Hey guys, what can I get you all to drink?” You asked once standing in front of the table as if they didn’t order the same thing every time.

“I’ll take a coffee my dear,” Captain Morales said smiling. He’s known you for years now and looked out for you as if you were his own daughter.

Rafe was last to order. That smirk making it’s way to his lips again, “I’ll take a coffee y/n,” His eyes lingered on your glossy lips. Little did you know that he was thinking about how he could just eat you up.

As his eyes raked over you face he didn’t miss the red tinge in your cheeks. He’d do anything to make it an even deeper red. Specifically have you blushing profusely under him or even on top of him. Then he started to think about you bent over and ready for him.

“Coming right up!” You said sweetly before heading off to get the coffees breaking whatever trance he was in.

-

Wednesday’s had become Rafe’s favorite day of the week. Not only was it technically his friday but he got to see his favorite girl. He always thinks about the first time he saw you. You were arguing with a customer who thought their expired coupon should still be valid. He watched as the guy threw his soda at you and before him or any one else could step in you punched the guy in the nose and dragged him out by his collar. The idiot cradling his nose bleeding nose.

That has been the hottest thing Rafe had ever witnessed.

“Now it’s free! Never come back dick head!” You yelled at him as you stomped back into the diner. After spending a few minutes in the back changing into a tee shirt you had in your locker you went to their table. Your tough demeanor had vanished and you held a soft smile on your face. That’s when he knew he was fucked.

-

Y/n walked back behind the counter to grab mugs and the coffee pot. You knew you’d probably have to make another fresh pot after serving them. Your best friend, Grace, had returned from her break and was wiping menus staring at the table of men.

“Matt looks so good. If we don’t get laid by these hot men we need to quit and become nuns,” Grace said quietly as she eyed the firefighter she’s had her eye on since he moved to town a few years ago.

Y/n snorted, “I’ve given up on mine. It’s been months and it’s just flirting and checking me out,” she shrugged, “Our hook ups and incredibly romantic dates will remain in my fantasies.”

“Don’t say that when I’ve been waiting a year now for mr brown eyes,” Grace huffed, “Why doesn’t he do anything. He acts like I’d say no to him.”

“You could ask him out,” You said handing her three mugs to help you take everything. Mostly so she could get closer to Matt.

She laughed dramatically, “You’re so funny Y/n! And after that I’ll call my dad since we’re saying things that are never going to happen.”

“Oh come on he could never say no to you,” You encouraged.

“Then you ask blondie out.”

You stared blankly at her.

She snorted, “That’s what I thought. Lets just continue to admire from afar so the hottest men we’ve ever seen don’t reject us.”

You followed behind her with a sigh. It’s not like you hadn’t thought about asking Rafe to hang out. It’s just that you had that nagging feeling in your chest that maybe he didn’t want to see you anywhere outside the diner. You cleared your throat to rid the anxiety that began to bubble in your stomach. You didn’t have time to over think that right now.

Grace placed one of the cups in front of Matt and he looked up at her with a shy smile, thanking her softly. They were two idiots in love.

“Are we ready to order?” You asked after filling the last mug.

“Yes ma’am,” Stanford said. One of the other older fire fighters.

It was always hard paying attention to their orders when Rafe’s ocean eyes were boring into you. He always had that affect of turning you into complete mush.

“For you Rafe?” You asked tilting your head to the side slightly.

A teasing smile pulled at his mouth, “Bacon cheeseburger with fries please.”

“No onions?”

He nodded. His pants getting a bit tight at the thought of you remembering something about him.

“You got it, I’ll put this is for you boys.” You smiled an walked away. A little extra sway to your hips hoping Rafe was watching but hoping you weren’t making a fool of yourself.

-

A slap to the back of his head got Rafe out of his trance. He ducked rubbing his head turning towards the culprit. His wonderful view of your ass ruined.

“Ow?” He muttered looking over at Miguel next to him.

“Are you just going to check her out every fucking week or are you going to do something?” He asked with a teasing tone.

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t have time for a girl right now.”

“You’re such a fuckin liar,” Morales laughed as he sipped his black coffee.

Rafe rubbed his face, “I’m working on it okay.”

Morales smirked knowing he was getting under his skin, “You and baby face over here need to grow a pair or someone else is gonna realize how wonderful those women are and beat you to it.”

“Hey what do I have to do with this,” Matt muttered rubbing his mustache.

Miguel laughed, “Dude Grace has been pining for you for forever and don’t act like you don’t feel the same.”

His began blushing at the thought of her, “Whatever. She’s too good for me anyways.”

“Spare me the pity party Anderson and ask the woman out,” Morales said and then pointed at Rafe, “And you. Do something or don’t. Don’t string her along with whatever flirting shit you do.”

Rafe huffed, “Yeah Yeah.”

He turned to look for you tuning out whatever new conversation started between the men. He found you laughing with Grace as you both rolled napkins with silverware. He loved your laugh and your smile. It was so infectious and warm. Rafe had no idea he could feel this way towards someone.

At first it was all lust. Your attractiveness captivated him, especially knowing you didn’t put up with anyone’s shit but also still a complete sweetheart. He moved to this town because he needed a fresh start. He didn’t expect to pine after a woman who was way too good for him.

Rafe continued to watch as you walked around helping other customers. The sway of your hips made him want to grab onto them. Pull you against him as he kissed down your neck from behind. He’d love to hear your laugh as his mustache tickled your ear. He could already see how pink your cheeks would get at the dirty words he’d whisper in your ear if you let him.

You had no idea that you could have him on his hands and knees for you.

-

Captain Morales had paid for their dinner and they had gone back to the station. Of course the meal was filled with Rafe’s longing glances towards you. Some not so subtle flirting on his end, you of course didn’t do it back in front of the other guys. But when they’d al go outside to wait for the captain to pay he would linger as you wiped down their table.

That nights conversation had firmly planted that seed of hope. Hope that he’d finally pull a move on you since there was a fundraiser barbecue at the station this weekend. Obviously you would be there because you would never miss an opportunity to support your community. It had nothing to do with the fact that Rafe was going to be there.

“You’re coming this weekend right? Or do they have you working?” He had asked with a smirk.

You shook your head with a teasing smile, “Not working, don’t worry I’ll be there.”

“Good.”

“Good?” You teased tilting your head a little in a questioning manor.

He nodded, “I’d be bored without my favorite girl.”

You huffed a flustered laugh, “You mean server?”

He shook his head, “I meant what I said.”

-

Rafe watched as you laughed with Mrs.Garcia about something as you helped pass out desserts. It had been almost three hours since the fundraiser started and he had gotten to talk to you only a handful of times.

He was put on grill duty and you had been pulled in all directions by people. Rafe liked the small town atmosphere of the place and it was one of the reasons why he was glad he got hired at that station, but now he was starting to hate it. Why did everyone have to know you and take you away from him.

You were just as disappointed as him. Every time you would try and make your way to the grill someone would pull you to help with something or the kids would want you to watch their dance routine they made up. You could feel his eyes on you and when you looked back at him he’d smirk. That stupid devilish handsome smirk.

The sun had begun to set and people were starting to clear out. You looked around and found Rafe helping take down all of the tables and put away chairs. Being ordered around by Captain Morales. You sighed, maybe you and Rafe were always meant to just have flirty banter. Nothing more.

You didn’t want to wait around until he was free again and you didn’t want to bother him so you accepted your fate. Before you left you wanted to use the restroom so you made your way into the firehouse.

Once Rafe was done helping clean up he looked around for you. He didn’t see you anywhere. His chest filled with disappointment as to how the night went. He thought this would be his chance to talk to you outside your job and maybe even take you home. His disappointment was clear on his face as he continued to look around as if you’d come out of thin air any moment.

Beside him someone cleared their throat, “She went inside a couple minutes ago,” Captain Morales said.

Rafe looked over at him with furrowed brows, “huh?”

“Your girl. She’s inside. Now hurry before you miss your chance,” He nodded towards the open door.

Rafe laughed, “How do you even-“

“Son you two look at each other like you both hung the moon I’d be an idiot to not know. Now please go get her I don’t want to have to deal with your attitude later if you miss your chance.”

Rafe nodded his head with a wide smile, “Yes sir.”

He made his way into the firehouse to look for you. Hopefully you hadn’t slipped by him. As he turned the corner to where the restrooms were he found you standing looking at some pictures hanging on the wall.

He stood there for a minute just admiring you. Your soft cheeks and long lashes. Your long smooth legs in that sundress that looked a bit too short and tight on you. It made something in his stomach stir. He cleared his throat to gain your attention.

Your head snapped towards him. Eyes widening in surprise, you weren’t expecting him. Rafe walked over to stand by you and see what you were staring at. It was a picture of the whole station. Then a picture of him and a couple other guys.

“Staring at me huh?” He asked with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “You wish Cameron.”

“I do.” He turned to look at you. That dreamy look in his eyes, “You almost got away from me today.”

You laughed softly, “Sorry. I was trying to come up to you but you know how it is.”

He nodded, “That’s the unfortunate thing about liking a girl everyone loves. You couldn’t help the hear that creeped up your neck at his confession.

He didn’t let you say anything as he continued, “Guess that just means I’ll need to take you out on a date to get you alone.”

You let out a surprised huff, “Oh yeah? Well we’re alone right now.” You looked around making a show of it.

He smirked, “So you don’t want to go on a date with me baby?”

This man was going to be the death of you, “Of course I do. Been waiting for you to ask.”

He laughed and took a step closer to you, “Sorry it’s taken me so long. I liked that little dance we were doing, but let me make it up to you.”

Your body was on fire at everything he was saying. This man had to have been created in a lab with the way he was speaking to you. He was walking closer to you now and you took a few steps back until your back hit the wall of the hallway.

“How are you gonna do that hm?” You tried to play cool as if your pulse wasn’t racing in anticipation. Now you weren’t usually a girl that hooked up with a guy before going on a date but that was going all out the window today if Rafe wanted to have his way with you.

He reached forward and stroked your cheek with his thumb. His eyes going down to your lips. His tongue poking out to wet his bottom lip as your parted, “By fucking you.”

Your eyes widened slightly. Thighs clenching at his non filtered confession, he really was done playing the cat and mouse game. You didn’t even care. Your brain became complete mush and you would let him fuck you in this hallway right now if he wanted to.

“You gonna let me do that hm?” He asked as if he didn’t already know the answer by the way your thighs clenched and your nipples hardened underneath your dress.

You nodded slowly as if you were under a spell. Your heart was erratic as you pictured this tall handsome man fucking you in his big arms. You could cum just thinking about it.

His thumb tugged gently as your bottom lip, “Words baby come on.”

“Yes please,” You said softly.

That’s all he needed to hear before he took your hand and dragged you into the room next to you. It was one of the rooms where they came to sleep during over night shifts. It had a desk, bunk beds, and one single bed. He locked the door behind him before pushing you up against the desk. Rafe and you were panting and you hadn’t even touched each other yet.

He cupped your face in his hands and groaned, “You’re so beautiful I can’t keep my hands to myself anymore.”

“Then don’t,” You murmured in a haze as he dove in to capture your lips in his.

He groaned and moved his hands down to your waist and then to your hips. Pulling you even closer to him as you parted your mouth to let him have more access. He was everywhere and it felt so good. His tongue explored your mouth as his hands grabbed and squeezed at your body. The light whimpers and moans leaving your mouth sending him into a frenzy.

He pulled away with hazy eyes and swollen lips, “Fuck I’ve been thinking about this for long.”

You nodded your head rapidly, “Me too.” You said breathlessly. You felt like you were in a Rafe enduced trance. He moaned at the sight of your swollen lips and the strap of your dress had fallen in the haste.

He pushed you back so you were sitting on the desk now with him between your parted legs. He leaned forward and began pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck. You tilted your head back giving him more room. Your fingers tangled in his hair. Tugging when he kissed that one particular spot below your ear. He bit at your neck and you gasped as his tongue soothed the sting. You had never been so turned on in your life, and he hadn’t even touched you really.

That changed when his hands slid down your hips to your thighs. He squeezed them loving the feel of them. Rafe couldn’t wait to have them wrapped around his head, he wanted you to suffocate him. He needed you to suffocate him with your pussy.

He played with the hem of your dress as he kissed your collarbone. He was being a tease, “I thought the teasing was over.” You mumbled with hooded eyes. You wanted him to just shove the dress up and fuck you.

He chuckled against the swell of your breast that he had been peppering with kisses, “Patience sweetheart. I’ll fill you up with my cock, tongue, and fingers in no time.”

You moaned at his words as he slipped the straps of your dress down and tugged the top part down to reveal your tits. He groaned at the sight of your perked nipples and leaned down taking one in his mouth. His other hand reaching for the other and brushing his thumb over the sensitive bud.

The moans that left your mouth were pornographic. It was like you had been touched in years which was only partly true.

“Mmm you’re so sweet,” He groaned as he moved to the other one.

You sighed with pleasure, “I need you.”

He laughed softly going back to kiss you, “Don’t worry baby I’ll give you what you need.”

His big hands grabbed your hips and pulled you off the desk in a swift motion. You thought he was going to take you to the bed and finally have his way. You should have known better with him, you’re starting to get that Rafe loves the anticipation. The chase of it all because he turned you around so his chest was on your back.

You could feel him aching agains your lower back. He felt so big and your mouth watered at the thought. You barely had any time to question what he was doing when you felt him press kisses from in between your shoulders and down your back. As he did he gently pushed you down to be basically bent over the desk. Then he was kneeling behind you.

His hands stroking your thighs as they shook in anticipation. He playfully bit your butt with a small groan. Rafe pushed your dress up to rest around your waist. Almost on instinct you arched your back and pushed your hips towards him. Needing for him to do something.

“Please Rafe,” You murmured desperately.

He grinned sweetly, “You sound so pretty asking nicely baby.” He reached his hand down to lightly stroke you over your underwear.

You gasped at the minimal contact. Then he was fully rubbing circles onto your clit. The wet patch at your center growing. He pulled your cheeks apart as he dove in and pressed wet kisses to your clothes pussy.

“Fuck,” He groaned, “Let me have a taste yeah?”

You whined. Literally whined, “Please Rafey please please.” You never thought you could be this desperate for a man. You could feel his smirk against your cunt.

He slid your panties to the side and dove in like a starved man. You gasped in surprised not expecting him to go all in since he had been teasing so much, but you’d thank God every day for it. You already knew you’d be thinking about his mouth for the rest of your life.

Rafe’s tongue massaged your clit in the best way and with the position his nose nudged at your entrance. His hands reached up to grab a handful of your ass and squeeze making you moan louder.

The room was filled with the sounds of his sucking and lapping as well as your whines. His hand then came down to slap one cheek. A motion that made you push yourself against his mouth even more.

Rafe would be a happy man if this is the way he went out. Drowning in your pussy. Your juices dripping down his chin as he mercilessly worked his tongue over you. The groans he let out adding to the pleasure.

Pressure built up in your lower stomach as that knot of pleasure tightened. You had never gotten so close so fast besides with your own hand. The way this man was lapping you up had your legs shaking.

“Yes Rafe!” You exclaimed, “Gonna cum!”

Your head flew back as your eyes shut in pleasure. The white hot euphoric feeling of your orgasm taking over.

“Mhmmm,” He groaned as he continued to lick and suck, “Fuck baby so good.” He mumbled as he continued his ministrations prolonging the intense feeling.

He pulled away once he had cleaned you up of everything you gave him, “Such a messy girl huh,” He mumbled as he pulled your hair so your back was against his chest again. Your head tilted back onto his shoulder. Rafe had a way with words, it had your mind in a haze.

He moved his hand to cup your face and tilt it towards him even more so he could capture your lips in his. The kiss was sloppy and so hot.

You pulled away slightly and mumbled against his lips, “Please please fuck me Rafey.”

He but his lip and groaned, “Of course baby anything you want.”

You expected him to shove his pants down and stuff his cock in you but you should have known him better. He spun you around so your back was pressed to the desk again. He tapped on the back of your thighs to get you to sit on it again and as you did he mumbled, “So obedient.”

The scene in front of him looked so vulgar. You were sat at the desk with your dress bunched around your stomach. All the delicious parts Rafe wanted to dive into exposed. He took a mental picture to remember it even though this definitely wouldn’t be the last time he’d have his way with you.

You reach out for him and tugged at his shirt wanting it off. He smirked as he took the hint and pulled it off. The sight of his toned chest and broad arms had you gushing all over again.

“We should be quick now before they come looking,” He muttered as he began to undo his belt. He pulled his pants and boxers down to rest around his ankles. His cock on full display for you and you bit your lip as you took in the sight. Glassy eyes widening at the size, you had never seen one like that.

He tugged at it a few times to relieve the tension. The way you were looking at him was making his ego grow, and Rafe didn’t really need that.

Grabbing where your knees crease he pushed your legs up so your feet were almost flat on the desk. Your core glistening and on display for him.

“Fuck I can’t wait to be in that nice wet pussy,” He couldn’t away. He let you hold yourself up now as he grabbed himself and began sliding his tip through your folds. You let out small whimpers at the feeling. Then rubbed it over your clit, making you even wetter.

Rafe was having the time of his life. You felt so good against him he never wanted to stop. The way your nipples perked and your eyes practically watered in pleasure.

“You’re so wet baby,” He slipped the tip into your entrance, “mmmph feel s’good huh.” He smirked cockily as he pushed himself in deeper and deeper.

Your brows furrowed in pleasure as he stretched you deliciously. His thumb finding your clit and rubbing soft circles. Your head fell back with a sigh as he bottomed out.

He leaned forwards and kissed you softly as he started moving. You both moaned as he pushed back in hitting that sweet spot. He pulled away and leaned down to take a nipple in his mouth. Sucking and gently tugging.

Your hands were tangled un his short locks. As his movements grew faster and harder your hands moved all over. His shoulders, chest, back anywhere you could touch. Your nails leaving crescents in his skin as he continued to mumble obscenities into your ear.

‘so good baby’ ‘the most perfect pussy’ ‘my good girl letting me fuck her so well’

The feeling of euphoria increasing as he continued. Rafe groaned as he felt you tighten around him. He was regretting one thing right now and that was waiting this long to fuck you.

“M’close Rafe,” You whined as that familiar feeling spread throughout your body.

“I know,” He panted and started working faster, “Cum for me baby come on. I know you can do it.”

His encouragement helped your release. As he felt you orgasm and tighten around him he neared the edge of his own orgasm.

“Need you to cum in me,” You mumbled as he milked you for all you had.

His eyes rolled back at your statement, “Fuuuck.” Then his hips snapped into you a few more times before he released inside you coating your walls in his cum. It felt so good to have him stuffed inside you. His head resting on your chest as he groaned. After a few minutes of your labored breaths Rafe slowly pulled out. The loss of him causing you to whimper and he just smirked.

You thought you guys were done but then Rafe looked down and slipped two fingers inside you.

“Oh Rafe,” You gasped, “W-what are you doing?”

He bit his lip as he continued to watch his fingers pump in and out slowly, “Feeling how well you took all my cum baby.”

Then as if he couldn’t be hotter and dirtier he removed his fingers and his cum was all over them. He took them and began rubbing it over your clit. The overstimulation made your toes curl and your mouth fall open.

The scene in front of him was so filthy and will be on constant reply for the rest of his life. The entire last hour he would be thinking about that forever.

He removed his fingers and you reached out grabbing his wrist to tug the fingers into your mouth. Licking and sucking his fingers clean.

“Dirty girl,” He mumbled as you pulled them out with a pop.

He leaned in and kissed you softly, no more lust behind it. It was something else now. Rafe helped you fix your dress and pull your underwear back on after he pulled his pants back up.

“I’m kind of sorry I didn’t take you out first but I also don’t regret it because I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you for months,” Rafe said as you fixed your ruffled hair.

You smiled at him, “I’m not at all. You can still take me out and we can do that all over again.”

A loud banging on the door made you jump and rafe whip his head around.

“You guys done yet? I need a nap,” one of the other guys yelled through the door.

Your face paled at the realization that you might now have been very quiet. Rafe just laughed, “One minute!”

“Oh god. I need to quit my job and move towns now,” You put your hands on your face in embarrassment.

Rafe laughed and kissed the back of your hands that covered your face, “Nuh uh. Not running from me now.”

[skellseerwriting]

Swordfight

James Hook x GN!Swords-person!Reader

Requested

Word Count: 2.4k

Content & Warnings: Mentions of blades (swords), sword fighting, one mention of wanting stab Hook’s face, worry of injury, no injuries, lots of flirting (on Hook’s end), one innuendo, reader isn’t really a VK or an AK (just doesn’t care for rules)

Summary: It’s your first time meeting James Hook, and he challenges you to a duel with a certain reward in mind if he wins…

Sitting at the edge of the water fountain in the courtyard, you were sharpening your sword.

The thin, silver-colored blade shone brightly in the afternoon light.

It hadn’t been easy sneaking it around the eyes of teachers, but you’d managed to keep it out of view. Your sword was a part of you, and you never wanted to part from it.

Who cares about rules anyways? If you got in trouble, so be it. You’d probably just escape detention or whatever they were planning on punishing you with anyways. If they caught you.

A shadow cast over your lap.

Looking up, you saw the suave face of a young man with brown hair.

“You know, they don’t let you carry those ‘round here.” He mused in an accent you couldn’t quite place, hand casually on his hip. A deep red coat was draped over his shoulders -arms not in the sleeves- and concealing his other hand. You squinted your eyes.

“I know.” You said without care, looking back down to return to your task. “Rules are made to be broken anyways.”

Expecting him walk away, you were surprised to see the shadow stay in place. You looked up at him again, raising an eyebrow. He just loomed in closer to you.

“You know, I’m very good with a sword in my hand myself.” He said, inflating his chest (along with his ego).

“Oh, I’m sure you are.” You smirked, humoring him a little. He may have been pestering you, but you did have to admit; he had a handsome face.

His hand reached forward to touch your own; or maybe it was to grab your sword hilt. Either way, you recoiled at the sudden intrusion of space.

Getting up quick and moving to the side, you pointed your blade at him and gave him a look. You’d permit flirting, but you wouldn’t let a near-stranger get too close to you so casually.

“You really shouldn’t have that.” Was all he said in response; only further entertained by the threat. His body language was completely casual and fluid.

“Why do you care?” You asked, feeling your patience wear down a little at his antics and insistency of not buzzing off; despite his good looks.

“Oh,” He said with amusement. “Well I’d hate to see you get in trouble.”

You were pretty sure he was enticed by the idea, actually.

Still, you weren’t going to let him rile you up like this.

“Who are you anyways?”

There was venom in your tone, but it may as well have been honey to him. The mystery student took on a look of fake shock before waving his hand in a circular motion and bowing at the waist in a flourishing act.

“The name’s Captain James Hook; Feared pirate of the seas. Most call me ‘Hook’.” He looked up at you, still bent at the waist. “But you, Darling…” he winked. “can call me your date.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to dim his spirits.

“And why would I go on a date with you?” You asked with mirth. Hook’s eyes twinkled.

“Because.” He stood up straight. “It’ll be my reward for beating you in the challenge.”

“‘The challenge’?”

“A duel.” He enunciated, clarifying with pursed lips.

You sniggered.

He wanted to have a swordfight with you?

You flicked your blade down at your side with a swish. Then, you gave a brief, mock bow.

“Alright then, Captain. I’ll indulge you. However,” you gave him a glance full of warning. “It’s your funeral.”

Hook merely blew you a kiss as he walked off to grab a hidden sword he must’ve stashed away for this very instance. He was leisurely with his time as he made his way back to you; grip very loose on the handle.

“Good luck.” You said sarcastically, readying your stance. He did the same.

“Why would I need that when you’re motivation enough for me?”

His words caught you off guard, and in the next moment, the metal in his hand clashed against yours with heavy force; the sound stinging your ears.

 Hurriedly getting focused back on the danger in front of you, you pushed his blade away, but Hook only returned for more.

Quickly getting into the zone, you studied his way of attacking and footwork. You’d gone up against many opponents over the years, and your analysis yielded one result; he was good.

Adjusting your weight to parry him, you allowed your eyebrows to scrunch in annoyance. Hook was vicious in his attacks, whilst still maintaining a certain elegance. His sword whipped across your vision like a needle and you began taking steps backward to get a better eye on it.

He turned the angle of your fight, making your back face the water fountain. The sounds of sharp metal stopped only for a moment as you were forced to hop backwards onto the fountain edge.

Hook’s smile continued at the sign of weakness. Gritting your teeth, you waited for him to hop up on the ledge as well so you could lunge toward him and make him fall.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have seen that coming, because he increased the speed of his attacks and thrusts the second he joined you on the small space of tile.

Once again, you were backing up. So, you made a feint at him, only to completely over throw your weight.

Your body careened towards the churning water.

A hand grabbed hold of your waist and spun you back to your feet. Hook’s torso was pressed up against yours and he gave you a charming smile.

“Falling for me alr-“

He didn’t get to finish his pun before you attempted to stab him from a close distance. Luckily for him, he had good reflexes.

Huffing in annoyance, you finished walking off the back of the fountain edge and dropping onto the ground.

As Hook stood above you, grinning, he spun his fine blade around a couple times and made a few fancy slashes. Then, he built up a huge jump and lunged at you.

You merely side stepped, and he was set stumbling forward.

Taking the opportunity, you sprinted to the nearby stone wall and its pillars. As you did so, you noticed many students facing you; it seemed you had gathered an audience.

You heard Hook following behind you and resisted the urge to look back.

Going around a thick pillar, you were hoping he would trail you as you swung around back to the courtyard. Instead, you ran right into him; he had went the other way.

Your palm was pressed up against his chest in fear of the sudden impact, and you wanted to stab that stupid look on his face as he teased you with a: “If you wanted to feel me up all you had to do was ask.”

Shoving him away, you turned around to go back to where you came from. You quickly found he did the same and moved in front of you again in anticipation of your moves; essentially blocking you off.

Huffing, you moved back to the center and waited for him to move to the outside of the courtyard.

Taking notice of the vines covering the stone bricks, you changed your mind and started to climb to try and escape.

You gripped your sword between your teeth to give freedom to both hands.

Hearing rustling sounds under you, you groaned.

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” You asked with your teeth clenched, exasperated. If you had known how this would go, you would have never agreed.

“Aww come on,” He drawled, not nearly as out of breath as you hoped he would be. “Give me a chance.”

About to bite back a remark, you became inquisitive at hearing a sharp sound dig into the wall below you.

Was he using his sword to climb?

Shaking your head, you hauled yourself to the top; getting on your feet as soon as possible.

The sun immediately hit your eyes. So, before turning around to anticipate your opponent, you briskly walked across the precarious wall into some shade that was provided by the taller academy building.

That same building also provided a nice dead end for you.

Hearing scuffling sounds behind you, you turned around; panting.

Hook held his steel in between his teeth like you had. While grabbing the hilt, he let out an exhale as he removed it from his mouth. That in combination with the sunlight hitting his brown eyes and making them sparkle, you silently cursed yourself for getting in this undesirable position with such a pretty man.

“Running away already?” He told you with a smirk. “I apologize if I was that scary, Darling.”

Was he implying you were a coward?

“Never.” You spat. “In fact…” you took a few bold steps toward him, making elegant slashes not unlike the ones he had made earlier. “I think you should be scared of me.”

Hook let out a chuckle.

“And why should I?” He taunted.

Close enough now, you gave his shiny blade a slight nudge with your own as a test.

“You’ll see.” You mused.

And so you were back into your flow.

You parried him and made lunges; staying within your range limits but also not allowing him to back you up either.

You were firm. Sturdy.

And Hook seemed to keep things steady with you as well. He was casual with his blocks and jabs, but it wasn’t without effort.

He took a few steps backward; seemingly for fun and allowing you to advance.

Then, it reversed. He pressed forward, and you turned to more parries as you backed up.

It almost seemed like… a game. Or something.

As Hook gave you his good-hearted smirk that you had gotten used to in the five minutes you had known the man, you found that your irritation was gone.

In its place was a certain thrill.

You were excited over the fight. It gave you a challenge; a rush you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Slightly laughing at a fun slice of steel up against each other in a noise that would make most people cringe, you let out a smile as you spun around to deliver another blow.

It all felt like a dance, with Hook leading you expertly; the swords making sharp music of their own.

You found that you were actually enjoying it.

Now, “what were you going to ask Hook for when you won?” was the question on your mind.

Maybe you’d make him your date, you thought jokingly (although you found you weren’t disgusted by the idea).

Hook made a harsh jab at you in the middle of your daydream, disrupting you.

You stumbled backwards.

Trying to get back on your feet as he got close again, you had no choice but to recede to the wall that was part of Merlin Academy’s building behind you.

You stood up fully, but it was too late.

His weapon was now pointed directly at your throat.

Hook jutted his face forward.

“I win.” He gloated, and you opened your mouth.

Cheering burst from down below, and you got briefly distracted and glanced down at the crowd you didn’t even realize had accumulated. It seemed more students had gathered to watch you two than what there had been when the whole thing began.

Remembering your dangerous situation, you immediately brought your attention back to Hook, only to find that he was distracted all the same.

Not wasting a second, you circled your blade around his and forced it out of his hand; making it soar through the air and hit the ground below in a soft clatter.

“No;” you mused with just the slightest hint of smugness, pointing your sword at his throat now. “I win.”

Hook eyes widened, then he pouted, but it seemed superficial; in a sort of mock-pity type of way. You squinted your eyes at him with suspicion. Why would he act like that if he had just lost?

“Students!” A rather calm voice exclaimed from below. ”Please come down from there right now!”

Professor Merlin.

You winced, looking down at the man who wouldn’t tolerate all the rule breaking that had just occurred.

And that distraction was your downfall.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hook’s coat fly up as his left arm (the one that was hidden the whole time) finally revealed itself. A metal glint could be caught from the area of his hand as it swung around your thin blade, pulling at it with an inexplicable force and yanking it out of your hand.

It joined his own on the ground beneath you. They beautifully crossed each other, forming an “x”.

Hook pushed forward into your space, and you felt something sharp press lightly into the side of your neck.

You squinted down. It appeared to be a metal hook.

Your breath caught; worry shooting through you of it piercing your skin.

Trying to back up, you realized the wall was directly behind you. You had nowhere to run.

Glancing downwards, you briefly pondered the likelihood of breaking something if you jumped down to grab your sword.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Hook advised, somehow knowing what you were thinking. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin those legs of yours, ay?”

You gritted your teeth. How could you have lost?

Looking Hook in the eye now, you decided to accept your fate. The sooner you got this over with, the sooner your feelings of humiliation would pass.

“So,” he said, retracting himself. “about that date.”

“At this rate you’ll be having your date in detention!” Merlin declared, just waiting for you to get down. “Let me know if you need assistance getting down!”

Sparing you a glance, Hook winked at you, saying “another time then” before taking a leap off the wall.

Your heart lurched out of your chest.

He did a roll onto the ground, and you sighed in relief.

You ignored the realization of being worried about his well-being as he picked up both of your blades, immediately walking away with them in his hand.

Thief.

You changed your mind; he was a jerk.

Still, a tiny part of your heart fluttered at the idea of having to comply with his request of going on a date with him.

Even though you had been adverse when you first met him, the brief -yet intense- sword fight had made you learn things about him that were, well, endearing.

As Hook disappeared without a trace and Merlin continued to shout at you, a tiny smile slipped through.

Maybe going on a date with him wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Taglist: For James Hook

@lesbpotmurdocklokistan @little-teacupss @mushroomdemon9 @leoisbabygirl

@brokenmilkcrates @eretsupremacy89 @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @elltheawkward

[twilightkitkat]

RIGHT??

I have so many ideas. I find it really interesting to consider how Wade's mutation would act differently if he got it this way. Would he look the same, like just a guy who didn't get fucked up? Would he be allowed to keep his face in the Origins Universe, only to return to his own body when he goes back home? It isn't his universe, anyways, right?

Wade has to be limited in his actions or he'd 100% steamroll the fuck out of Stryker and Victor and pretty much everyone. Logan and Wade working together would clap everyone easily.

And when Logan saw Wade standing there, looking significantly worse for wear but still so painfully Wade, he'd be shocked. And Wade would joke with him as always, flirting like it was second nature

I think that some major plot points need to stay the same: Logan needs to leave Weapon X, he needs to have a reason (grief) to go after Victor, he needs to accept the adamantium implants, he needs to destroy Stryker's facility, he needs to lose his memory, and he needs to join the X-men.

This would create some issues later down the line because right as Logan started to get comfortable with Wade, when he loved him more than anything, his memories would need to be wiped. To give him a reason to join the X-men. (It makes Wade bitter to think that he needed to be gone for Logan to become a hero. For Logan to eventually save his world.)

So they split apart for a while. Wade moves to his original city and decides to start up his vigilante work. It's liberating, in a way, to get back into the routine of it. He meets Althea, a little younger than his universe but still herself. He manages to weasel his way into living with her even earlier than before.

Of course, Wade keeps tabs even as Logan is a cage fighter through the black market, but he can't do much.

Still, sometimes he can't let it slide. He corners guys who were particularly brutal with Logan and shoots them in an alleyway. When Logan gets battered and bruised from being harassed and passes out in a drunken puddle of misery, Wade picks him up ever so gently and takes him home. Logan is confused about how he's in his own bed with water next to him, but he shrugs it off. Until it keeps happening. It's... strange.

So Logan hatches a plan. He pretends to be more drunk than he is, one day, shivering out in the cold. Only to see some fucker in a red suit come down, muttering about how he's gonna kill some people. He picks him up like he's precious and he carries Logan all the way back to where he lives. (He'd think it was creepy that the guy knew if not for the fact that he was protecting him.) He takes off his shoes and gets him water. He even lights the fireplace and wraps Logan in a towel, muttering something about temperature sensitivity. (It helps more than Logan would ever admit.)

Logan had planned to confront him but he ends up letting him go. A part of him didn't want to scare the man away. It was the first time since he'd waken up on that godforsaken island that someone was nice to him. He wondered if the man knew him from the past because he seemed oddly familiar. But he didn't want to ruin it, so he kept quiet. And it kept happening.

(Logan never forgets him. Even after joining the X-men, he keeps an eye out. Until one day, they finally meet again.)

Time travel GO!

OK let's go.

Like you said, it's a really interesting theory that Worst Wolverine is from the Origins Universe. It matches up with his story considering he seemed confused by Wade's existence, meaning that Deadpool likely wasn't an active vigilante in his universe. This would be plausible if Wade had been essentially "killed" (stripped of his free will) during the Weapon X program. Also, Logan in Origins was a little different than how he acted in the OG X-men films and his personality aligns a bit more with Worst Wolverine. Origin's plotline would account for him being extra cagey and distrustful of the world and the X-men, because his own brother and teammates turned against him in the past.

Logan always struggled with memory problems. Except in his world since he never joined the X-men, he never really fully "remembered" his past. He eventually discovered what Stryker did to him, but not the extent of his involvement in the Weapon X program. It bothered him, but eventually, he tried to move on.

Except he and Wade are up against a villain from another universe. With TVA's ability to time and dimension travel. Right as they're about to finish him off, he hits an emergency button on a device he has and sends them back in time.

Except he latched onto the point where Logan's memory was the weakest and sent him there in hopes that he'd fuck up the timeline enough to never come to Wade's Universe. So that he wouldn't fight them.

So Wade and Logan get sent back in time. Except that Wade remembers and Logan... doesn't. His memories were already spotty at best and were sealed behind a barrier.

The Origins Weapon X program was a little different from the one Wade remembered, but it was so nauseatingly familiar. When he sees Logan with his brother Victor, he damn near starts ugly sobbing. Except for the fact that Logan is ignoring him. He isn't looking at him or talking to him and he's acting like he doesn't remember anything.

It's only when he raises an unamused eyebrow and asks, "The fuck do you need, Wilson?" that Wade realizes how deep in shit he is. Time travel is hard enough, but without Logan's cooperation? In a time before Wade even had his fucking mutant abilities? No thanks...

Wade tries to get closer to Logan. To prod him to remember. Occasionally, Logan looks a little moved by his words, only to get a piercing headache and forget about it. He thinks Wade's schizophrenic and delusional and Wade can't do shit to change it.

So he switches gears. The best thing he could do right now is try to get buddy-buddy with past Wolvie, right? He starts following him on missions, separating him from Victor, and talking Logan's ear off. Logan is annoyed but it's also nice to be around someone who has a shred of empathy for civilians. Who isn't a bloodthirsty psychopath. So he reluctantly lets him in.

So they become close friends. Wade obviously feels more than that, but what can he do? This was a time when being gay was like a death sentence, and Logan was almost 200 years old. He'd had it ingrained into his head and it took years in modern society to undo that shit.

Logan starts feeling a little hot and bothered around Wade, but doesn't know why. The guy pisses him off but this isn't just that? He kind of wants to yank him closer and just... hold him there. But that can't be right. Firstly, Wade is a man. Secondly, Logan isn't Like That. He's a killing machine, an animal. He doesn't deserve nice things.

But Logan starts to have second thoughts. He starts to doubt what he's doing is right. And this time, with someone other than Victor around, he can share his frustrations. Occasionally he gets drunk enough let himself be vulnerable around Wade (only Wade). He tells him how he hates killing, how he just wants to live a peaceful life, how he can't keep doing this anymore. Wade listens to him and comforts him. Tells him he knows. (Holds him quietly when Logan finally lets himself cry. Logan might not say anything the next day, but he stays so close to Wade that their shoulders are brushing and that's all Wade needs to know he appreciates it.)

And so this continues until Logan decides to quit the Weapon X project. And Wade doesn't exactly know what overcame him in that moment, but he followed Logan. He knows he should let the plot run its course but he couldn't. Not when Logan was disappearing from sight and all Wade could remember was a much older Logan from the future about to walk away until he called out for him.

Logan turns around, angry and cautious and fucking terrified because he's leaving behind the only life he'd ever known. And there was Wade, who'd been there for him through all this shit, grinning awkwardly and holding out his dog tags.

"Twinsies?" Wade chuckles as he places them into Logan's hand. Logan can't decide whether to strangle or hug him, so he settles on a combination.

He punches Wade in the shoulder and mutters, "Asshole," and then wraps him in the most bone-crushingly tight hug he can manage. He clings to Wade like a lifeline, like he can't believe he's real, and it's only then that Wade notices he's shaking.

And... oh.

The realization hits him that it wasn't easy for Logan at all. To leave behind his brother who he'd been with his whole life, the only person who couldn't die like him and understood his instincts. To see Victor become someone unrecognizable, tainted by greed and bloodlust. To leave behind the only semblance of familiarity he knew because the guilt was eating him alive.

Wade can't just abandon him. Can't leave him alone to suffer and become the hardened shell of a man he should have become. He isn't thinking about the future ramifications when he takes Logan by the shoulders, grins, and says he knows a way out. Later that night, he manages to borrow a boat from a coastal settlement in exchange for a warning about Stryker. Logan looks dazed next to him as he easily manages to secure an escape route.

(How long would it have taken him before? When he didn't have a translator? How much did he suffer originally?)

And so they run away together. To Canada, where Wade knew Logan would choose to settle. And Wade meets the woman who would have been Logan's wife, in the original timeline. She's sweet and cute and reminds him of Vanessa in a way that makes him viciously homesick. He can see why Logan liked her.

But they don't end up together. Logan is oddly on guard around her, frowning as she chats happily with Wade. Wade might be a little wary because he knows she's a spy, but Logan should have no reason to be so cagey. When she turns to Logan to flirt, he shuts her down immediately and harshly. He storms off and drags Wade with him. (If Wade didn't know better, it almost looked like he was jealous.)

Later that night, Wade brings her up again. Says that she's pretty and seems interested in Logan. It pains him a little, but it's how the timeline is supposed to go. Logan sneers in response before schooling his face into an expression of indifference and asks him what he thinks of her.

Wade... doesn't know what came over him, suddenly, but he feels a sudden urge to be honest. Maybe it's homesickness or just being sick of bottling up his emotions, but he tells Logan that she reminds him of Vanessa.

Logan's eyes are piercing when he asks who she is. Wade says that she was someone he loved, once. That he thought he'd be together with her forever. That he planned to get married and start a family with her. It tumbles out suddenly, like it was stuck in his throat and he had to throw it up or it'd choke him.

Logan tenses beside him. He stares at his hands blankly, and asks quietly, "Do you miss her?"

Wade hears it for the question it is: "Do you regret being with me?"

So Wade drops against Logan's shoulder and grabs his hand and answers honestly, "I loved her, once. But I'm here now. This is my life." The you're my life goes unspoken.

But Logan hears it anyway, and suddenly he's surging to meet Wade's lips, desperately and hungrily. He's pushing him down and looking at him frantically like he can't quite understand his own feelings but he can't stop them either. And then Wade reaches up, cradles his cheek, and kisses him back. Logan melts into him and clings to Wade so tightly he leaves bruises.

Things are different, after that. Wade and Logan unofficially become a couple, away from the public eye. They live a simple but happy life. Logan and Wade both work at the construction company, with Logan as the lumberjack and Wade as one of the builders. It's not the best money he's made, but it'll do.

Except for the fact that Wade is aware their time together has a limit. And he's even more aware that if he goes down the same road as he did originally, he'll die. Narratively speaking, he replaced Logan's wife as the "leverage to use against him." He knew that meant that Victor would come for his ass first. And Wade unfortunately doesn't have his healing factor yet, which makes him even more vulnerable. He may be stronger and more skilled than Kayla Silverfox, but he can't win against an infinite regen hack.

So he starts planning. He gets in touch with some of the black market channels he knew existed at the time. He gets into some shady mercenary work, just like his past life. It's a lot easier when he knows the ropes. He saves up money and hoards it under the floorboards, alongside a special gun he'd managed to get. One with adamantium bullets.

Here's the thing: Wade loves Logan. He does. He had no intention of "fooling" him with their time together. But here's another thing: Wade isn't stupid. He can't live in the delusion that he'll somehow be safe just because he isn't Kayla. He knows how the story goes. And he knows that if he tries to explain to Logan, he'll forget it immediately. He can't work to create a plan with Logan when the universe seems dead set on keeping him in the dark.

But Wade has hope. Maybe he'll be able to escape with Logan, as soon as Victor's time to shine comes close. And soon it does. He's been keeping tabs on his ex-teammates religiously, so when he hears about the first death he knows what to do.

He brings it up to Logan, prepared to flee with him, to fight together to break apart Stryker's plans, and Logan... looks at him blankly. Like he doesn't understand. So Wade tries again, more frantically, and Logan's brain refuses to let him register it. He asks why he's upset, what Wade wants for dinner, and Wade...

Wade collapses to the ground, shaking. The universe wouldn't fucking let him. It was like an immune system fighting against the intruder in the timeline to cut off the infection. It'd let him stay by Logan's side, for now, and change little things... but it refused to let him change the key events. The anchor points tying the universe together.

Wade goes through the motions numbly, after that. Logan can clearly see something's wrong, and tries cornering him a few times, but Wade brushes it off. He can't deal with that again.

Logan's mind is clearly being fucked with. His memories were sealed from the beginning, and his mind seemed to reject any notion of familiarity. Maybe it was the villain's fault, instead of the universe's. In which case, what could be his end goal? This would just cause things to turn out like they did originally, which would be bad for him. (Unless he had a moment he'd step in. A single moment to intercept. Like them meeting in the bar.)

Then, on the night before Victor arrives, Wade puts his plan into action. He grabs the gun and the money stuffs it into his backpack before he leaves for work. He kisses Logan goodbye at their parting point and walks off with a grim look on his face.

The air has a chill to it that can't just be explained away by the cold. The forest seems distorted. Wade can just feel that it's getting close. He hides the bag in a place only he would know to check that wouldn't be suspicious if Logan caught his scent.

Then he "leisurely" strolls out into the woods, whistling with his hands in his pockets without a care in the world. (He's very tense, actually.)

It's then that Victor pounces. Pinning him to the ground, grinning viciously. "Wilson," he punctuates with his claws pushing closer to his throat, "what a pleasure to know that my brother keeps you as company."

But just as Wade predicted, he doesn't kill him. He cuts him, letting enough of his blood spill to be assumed dead, and then hauls him over his shoulder when he's assured Wade can't move. Fucking figures, they needed an experimental subject anyway.

He wakes up later, in a daze, to being chained down on a table in the lab. Wow, so original. Never been done before. He'd wondered how exactly his role as "Logan's wife" and "Deadpool" would meet, but this was roughly what he'd expected. His genes were the next best thing to Logan's, a way to test out the product with room for failure before the next big thing.

(He wondered how Logan felt when he assumed him dead. Did he storm up to Victor, like last time? Was he more or less mad? Did he cry? Victor wasn't here, had that happened yet or not?)

Wade was no stranger to the fucked-up-experimental-torture routine, so when Stryker entered, he didn't act surprised at all.

"Damn, that's crazy," he said blankly. "So you were secretly running a mutant weapon experimentation program this whole time? Weapon X was so cleverly named after the X gene? What a plot twist."

Stryker looks... shocked at his nonchalance. He gets pissed, too, but it's the anxiety as he asks how the fuck Wade figured that out that clues him in. So people other than Logan can still hear him loud and clear... interesting. He can still influence the world.

He riles Stryker up a bit more, pushes all the right buttons (imagines him as Francis, speaking in the exact same way) and he gets what he wants. Stryker snarls at him, tells him he'll show him how to behave, and decides to torture him.

Now's his chance. "Hate to inform you but I already got a free trial of the kitty cat claws. The only way you'd manage to shut me up would be to strangle me," Wade snorts.

And bingo. Stryker mutters that he'll suffocate him just enough to be painful, putting on gloves and eyeing him with a sadistic viciousness only rivaled in Francis himself.

Wade ignores the instinctive panic at the thought of suffocation and focuses on the bright side. Under the same circumstances, he should trigger his mutation early, right?

[adelaidedrubman]

sorry. i guess i have to do this a second time

wip. whatever. i just woke up

been tagged by dears @henbased @socially-awkward-skeleton to share a wip! sadly haven’t gotten much new writing done following a stressful weekend, so here’s a short little piece from one of the comfort prompts that got way too long. warnings for discussions of stalking and graphic violence, you know how they get.

“How did —” she runs a frustrated hand through her hair, pushing it back towards the opossum still clinging there. “How did you even find my spot?! You stalkin’ me now?” A sharp grin carves itself into his face to push back the modest rounds of his cheeks and deepen the sag of his laugh lines, his eyes lighting up with an irritatingly proud twinkle.  He slides a hand beneath his vest, pulling out a sleek smartphone with a cross insignia on its case. “Scathing negative reviews of Snowshoe Lake suddenly popped up last night on Fishbrain, FishHub, ANGLR — even AllTrails and 27 Crags mentioned the nearby mountain pass being subpar.”  “You saw somewhere with shitty reviews and figured you belonged there?”

“I figured it was the work of my clever, reclusive little angler slyly marking her territory.” A slow bat-batting of his eyelashes punctuates the statement. “And lo and behold, here you are.” The hinge of her jaw; her nose twitches. “I like my privacy,” she drawls slowly, so that he may understand. “Now that we’ve gone over the how, maybe we can move on to why the fuck you’re here? And when you’ll be fucking leaving?” If it’s within the next ninety seconds, perhaps she can still salvage her perfect day.  “Why, you haven’t been keeping track?” His tongue clicks against his teeth with a furrow of his brow in a contrived display of woundedness. “We’re celebrating our one month anniversary today!” She snarls and bugs her eyes. “Great! Our fake relationship reached a fake milestone I wouldn’t even celebrate if it was real!” “Do you think that attitude could have been a contributing factor to the death of your real relationship?”  She thinks how beautiful her fishing knife would look lovingly buried to the hilt in his jugular, the sweet glug glug glug he would make choking on his own blood. She thinks about how pretty he would look with that sharp grin sliced to gape and droop like a catfish’s mouth.  “I think interrupting my fishin’ time is about to be a contributing factor in your death,” she settles on. “The only way you’re gonna be any good to me around here is if I chop you up into little bits and use you to bait my fucking hook.” 

no pressure tags out to @wrathfulrook @fourlittleseedlings @galaxycunt @cassietrn @florbelles @g0dspeeed @unholymilf @belorage @shallow-gravy @roofgeese @socially-awkward-skeleton @corvosattano @inafieldofdaisies @direwombat @afarcryfrommymain @poetikat @blissfulalchemist @deputyash @confidentandgood @captastra @voidika @just-another-wasteland-merc @strangefable @8bitpizzacoupons @stacispratt @orionlancasterr @v0idbuggy @jackiesarch @strafethesesinners @henbased @simplegenius042 @clicheantagonist @firstaidspray @quickhacked @miyabilicious @nightbloodbix @thedeadthree @shellibisshe + join/unjoin my wip day tag list by liking/unliking here!

[tommygettingwrittenoff]

i need them to put eddie in a coma so he can have his own little coma dream realization

[wolves-in-the-world]

tags on krakenartificer's post about a leverage au where nate enters the priesthood but ends up running cons for people who come to him for help anyway:

#now i need a crossover episode of catholic priest nate who's still running leverage style shenanigans #with father brown [via @trivalentlinks]

thank you for making me stare at the wall in fascination and horror about this crossover

they'd be occasional allies occasional confidantes they'd go behind each other's backs once or twice and only kinda regret it. This nate hasn't gone through the same loss as in canon, but that wouldn't make him a whole lot softer, so he'd be fundamentally irritated with father brown - his tested and unshakeable belief and his optimism about the human condition - and father brown would be generally concerned about everyone on nate's end, and nate not the least of it. They'd play chess together and be fairly well-matched. They'd visit each other's confessionals to check in.

we'd get some interesting acknowledgement of father brown's "I'm nice and simple and harmless" grift (which I could also call power negativity) which is only kind of a grift because he really is that nice and harmless beneath, except that he uses it to get information from people.

flambeau would be utterly thrilled and (playfully?) insulted not to be father brown's only criminal associate.

the leverage crew would be correctly suspicious of flambeau, I think, but sophie would greet him by name - possibly with a kiss to the cheek, possibly eyeing him like he's a viper in their midst - and reference some very improbable occasion when they were after the same prize. He mentions she was using a different name then; he doesn't say what it was. Bonus points if he also had his eye on the dagger in the Rashomon Job but had the flu / was unexpectedly in prison / had to attend a grandmother's funeral at the time.

I have this certainty in my mind that the leverage crew would be largely dismissive of sid's abilities and he'd kind of snort and roll his eyes about it - he's at worst a common criminal and very lower class, so he's used to being understimated - and surprise them with his connections or lock-picking or holding his own in a brawl or fixing an elderly car in the quickest dirtiest way imaginable. (Parker would decide she likes him then; the others would be reassured after seeing how gentle he is when talking with her.) He'd also nope out of leverage's business at a sensible time, because father brown's rubbed off on him and he doesn't actually want that kind of danger - unless the con's personal.

(I'm not sure whether to set this in leverage time or drag it back to father brown's 1950s so I'm settling for mashing the two together and pretending it's not an issue. See also: geography.)

… father brown would have I think one harrowing conversation with eliot where they mention their time in the military, the marks that killing people and losing people leaves on a person - father brown already does this in canon, tells someone it's unfair that they're mired in trauma and alcoholism when he found his faith through trauma instead, it floored me - and after brushing on repentance and god here, he wouldn't bring it up with eliot again. (I think father brown varies on this in canon, frankly, but he often respects that kind of boundary, and I think he'd recognise a wound so sore it should be left to heal however it can.)

(yes I'm playing with fictional priests like barbie dolls but no I'm not comfortable with the conversion aspects, so apologies and bear with me while I skate on past that.)

(he'd describe eliot as a good person, once, or as someone working very hard at it. Eliot would be on edge about that for the entire con, finding a little too much uneasy satisfaction in getting to knock people out and play the bad guy - play at the simpler stuff he used to do. Sophie might catch father brown for a word about it; father brown wouldn't be that clumsy again.)

I think father brown and nate would both talk bunty out of getting involved in a joint kembleford-leverage operation except in the most innocent way possible. The problem is she actually would make a good getaway driver, and she's thrilled with the idea, but she's already had some run-ins with the press and the law and can't risk another; luckily she's better used as a distraction elsewhere.

and I'm sorry to do this, but I think lady felicia's husband would be a mark or potential mark at one point. It would be fraught.

(the main reason I haven't recommended father brown's heist episode (s7e10), aside from not having a background on the politics in it, is that it shows lady felicia as a victim and pulls the heist on her behalf. The show largely convinced me to ignore the messy reality of her and her husband's inherited wealth, but that episode made me kinda uncomfortable - which is a shame, because seeing these characters pull a heist was fucking great.)

mrs mccarthy would be used against her will or knowledge as a distraction while someone's pockets are picked. She isn't told until afterwards, and then only half by accident. She is, of course, horrified. Father brown was absolutely the one to suggest it in planning, but flambeau slips in mid-apology to smoothly take the blame.

I could in fact go on and this is in fact a problem.

—

editing to continue:

I'm actually thinking that father brown might approach eliot from an ex-military angle and not a Religious Authority angle at all - eliot was raised protestant, after all, and it's an entirely different vibe. And I have to think eliot's guarded around father brown for the very fact that he's a priest and seems to mean it in a way that nate, I feel, wouldn't. So they may avoid the topic entirely, or as close to it as they can when brushing on, well, eliot's entire moral injury situation. Which is good news for me.

bunty would admire parker for being different and capable and getting up to exciting things, though would probably fail at any attempts at friendship until she thinks to ask what parker likes doing and ends up learning to pick pockets that evening. The second those two are around buildings tall enough to rappel down she's in danger. (The second parker can slip away at night she's giving the church a go; father brown gives her a look the night before and quietly warns her about the dodgy roof.)

mrs mccarthy decides fairly quickly that hardison is a very nice young man (his nana instincts are online and functional) even if he spends far too much time on the wretched computer. She's determined to feed him and half the time he's determined to find ways to politely refuse, though the strawberry scones are actually pretty good.

she's appalled by eliot's job, and fiercely territorial of her kitchen when he offers help, even just cleaning up, but once she's seen him get in the way of trouble she's absolutely catching his arm and half hiding behind him in any crisis real or perceived. (She still doesn't approve of him.)

lady felicia sees hardison and eliot as two very different kinds of novelties and does some talking to hardison about tech (mostly listening and marveling) and some quietly ogling both of them, and especially eliot once she's seen him fighting. (Eliot unfortunately turned on his charm when he realised she sort of expected it. She doesn't get to chat with charming southern gents all that often - it's very shallow, and she's not serious about it.)

thank goodness bunty's too young for eliot so I don't have to go there. He has to tuck her out of sight in a barn at some point when trouble's headed their way; when the mess is almost cleaned up and she's grabbed a rifle from somewhere to tell the the remaining goon to clear off, with every appearance of competence, eliot takes it from her and disarms it with a smear of blood under his nose and a slightly betrayed expression.

hardison and sid get along, aside from a little initial insecurity on the parker front, and get to bitch a bit about flambeau, who hardison mistrusts from the start.

flambeau... he admires parker, from a distance - professionally and not very effusively - but after he watches her work for a while he seems to realise who she was trained by, and tells her as much. He says he was too, for a very short time, and it's unclear if he'd gain anything from making it up. Says that he and archie had a difference of opinion - and has a way of saying it that implies there might have been fire involved.

[milkandhoneyfemme]

not a woman but when we talk abt womanhood and girls protect girls and the concept of drunk girls communing in the bathroom I’m usually there yknow

[thornheartless]

Feeling very out of place with people, the world. I don't know. Like I talk too much but end up being quiet at the wrong times.

[exopelagic]

talking to him more very much achieved. we just talked for like 4 hours in the kitchen holy shit I need to sleep

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ the way of the househusband ❞

☾₊‧⁺...cw : househusband!fushiguro toji x fem!reader, you are megumi's mom, flirting, playful banter, just overall silly and cute domestic life

☾₊‧⁺...lunar's note : just some simple lil toji hcs of him as a househusband! i need some sweet stuff of him without a lot of sexual stuff in it bc let's be real, in a domestic setting he's probably just a big clingy and mildly annoying bear husband

f. toji is never going to complain about being the one staying home, watching over the little gremlin that is megumi. he's got his own ways of bringing in money with that friend of his, shiu, but he's more than content to being the one in the frilly pink apron, cooking for you and the lil' man.

toji didn’t ever expect to get married, especially after how he was treated as a zenin. he didn't know much about love or how to connect with people, let alone you. but when you handed his ass to him with no struggle and a pretty smile on your face at the gym, he knew he wanted you. two years later and a shit load of aggressive flirting, toji ends up with you as his spouse and he wouldn't have it any other way.

so imagine toji's surprise when he's genuinely excited when you tell him your pregnant. he's excited but scared. him? a father? there's no way in hell he has any idea what to do, his own father was nothing but a piece of shit...so what if he turns out like him? but the moment you pop that big headed little fucker out of you, toji can't help but grin, that excitement of being a father and creating memories with this tiny little thing erasing all his fears.

whenever you come home from work, toji's usually in the living room with little megumi, who forced him to take part in the exercise part of his favorite kids show. you don't know how megumi, your one year old baby who still talked in little babbles, forced his massive giant of a father who could kill a man with a look to do 'exercise for baby,' but you know better than to question it when you see the two touching their toes in front of the tv.

sometimes, he's in the kitchen, however, wearing that 'kiss the cook' apron you got for his birthday. toji always wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into a kiss, muttering a 'welcome home’ against your lips before poking your side and going back to what he was doing, proud grin on his face at the little screech he gets from you.

he's started to get better at dodging your hands when you go to poke him back, skirting around the table before going to scoop megumi up. “you would never do such an act in front of 'gumi, would you? what if he starts going around poking girls in their sides, hm? then i'll have to explain to his teacher that his mama can't keep 'er hands to herself.”

toji's got you there...so you back off, opting to press a kiss to babygumi’s little forehead, taking him from your husband’s arms when he makes grabby hands at you. you savor the betrayed look on toji's face, sticking your tongue out at him. he scoffs, rolling his eyes before going back to make sure dinner wasn’t burnt. he’ll get you back for stealing his son from him.

despite what people might think, there’s not really a 'dominant' person in the relationship. when together, the two of you give off some of the most intimidating vibes because of the sheer power the both of you carry. it's not even put off by little megumi, because if he notices his parents looking at you in disgust, he's gonna give you one that's even worse.

toji will never forget the day the three of you went to the grocery store, him in his usual black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, you in one of those same shirts and leggings with megumi in the kiddie seat in the shopping cart, eating from the little snack pack toji made for him. toji swears he walked away for three fucking seconds, and he came back to some...fucker getting ready to chat you up. it’s no surprise anyone that he gets pissed, ready to storm over there and make it clear you're taken.

however, it's clear you don't need him to step in, and damn, you look...really hot telling this dude off, angrily flashing your ring when he wouldn't back off. god, he wishes he could marry you again. toji doesn’t even know what you told the guy, and he's tempted to playfully ask megumi what happened, knowing his lil' man would try to respond in babbles and coos.

“he said you crawled out from the trash, toj, i can't stand for that! he could’ve done you some justice and said you crawled out of the deepest pits of hell, so I had to educate him on that. besides, he called you my boyfriend and I almost punched his face.”  “yeah? hm, i’m glad you didn’t, babe, we don’t want to get kicked out the store.”  “i don’t know, i think an imprint of my ring in his forehead would get the message across.”  “well, next time, how about we just kiss like we haven't seen each other in 15 years? not a fan of showing out to some dude, but i'd do it for you, sweetheart.”  “mmn!”  “right, lil' man? mama's so mean t' me, it's a good idea.”  “gumiiii, you're supposed to be on my side!”

occassionally, when you're at work, toji'll just talk to megumi, the little one nice and comfy on his chest.

one habit he'll never get out of is randomly calling you throughout the day when he's particularly bored and missing you. if you don't answer, toji will just leave you a message, usually about how badly he wants you to come home, groaning about how tired he is but he can't sleep without you in his arms, without you playing with his hair until he falls asleep. he's so in love with you, it's almost makes you dizzy.

you'll never forget the day you come home to toji and baby megumi in the front yard, crouched down around...something. parking in the driveway, you make your way over and see what they're looking at. it's...a kitten and a puppy, two tiny little things playfighting with each other. neither one of them say anything, just looking at the two creatures. you sigh, knowing exactly what this means.

"...give them appropriate names and make vet appointments. we aren't naming the dog 'hot dog' and we aren't naming the cat 'kitten'." "i told you it would work, lil' man."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Working at a restaurant with 141! (Part 1)

Let's get this out of the way, the restaurant fucking sucks. Don't even know how it's still open. The food is terrible. The owner is an incompetent drunk who's never there. You got referred to the job from a friend of a friend. You did an interview with the head chef/manager, John. He hired you because you were hot.

"The fuckin ass on that one, huh?"

Just like any man that works in a restaurant, they're all horny fucks who love to tease you. You'd run back to the kitchen and ask to tweak an order. Price would wink and say:

"Next time it's gonna cost ya."

When it gets slow (which was all the time), you'd sit in the back and chat about how they met and what they did with their lives. They all get paid under the table for various reasons. Johnny takes smoke breaks with you, sometimes Price joins. Gaz pours shots for everyone after "busy" nights (busy meaning there was an hour where there were two tables to serve instead of one). Ghost... well he's strictly work. Sometimes he engages in banter with the guys, but he only acknowledges you when needed.

Your first month flies by, you basically get paid to sit around and talk with the most charming men on the planet, and Simon.

"He'll warm up eventually. Just gotta loosen 'em up, just like any tight ass."

Soap smirked as he leaned against a counter while everyone was wrapping up for the night.

"Don't you have dishes to put away?"

Ghost snapped while wiping down his station. At least he was nice to look at.

You and Gaz would roll up the forks and knives talking about bullshit, knees touching. Soap and you would light each others smokes by touching one lit end to the unlit one, all while still holding the cigarettes in your mouths (he called it a cigarette kiss). Price would constantly make food for you:

"Gotta plump you up 'fore it starts getting cold, yeah?"

He'd look you up and down while sliding you a basket of fries. And Simon? Cold as ever. Even when he started driving you to and from work because your car broke down. He drove like a madman, but it was totally silent. You made the mistake of reaching for the radio once, he gave a admonitory grunt and you snatched your hand away.

As time went on, you got comfortable with everyone and they got comfortable with you. It started with suggestive jokes.

"Simon's just straightforward, doesn't beat around the bush."

Price said one day while prepping vegetables with Ghost.

"What are you talking about? He beats around the bush all the time Price, you know that."

Soap walked by with a shit eating grin while he was carrying a bucket of dishes to the back. Uproar from the guys. Ghost storms off following Johnny, knife in hand. You want to stop him, but Gaz places a hand on your shoulder.

"Best not to do that, just let 'em settle that amongst themselves."

Johnny comes back disheveled, wearing a different shirt. Simon is stone faced as usual as he goes back to prep. It only got worse after that.

You'd watch as the boys messed with each other more; pats on the back, that turns to squeezes on the shoulders, that turned to slaps on the ass.

"They're just handsy," you think to yourself.

Eye contact that lingers for a second too long.

"They're just close friends," you think to yourself.

Compliments that boarder on harassment.

"They're just joking around," you think to yourself.

Then you entered the walk-in freezer, only to make direct eye contact with Johnny as he has Kyle's dick down his throat.

"Oh, uh-huh..." you think to yourself.

You didn't look at their faces for a week, they acted as if nothing happened. Then, the flirting only got worse.

"Behind!"

Price would yell while grinding up against Simon's ass when passing behind him.

"Yes, Chef."

He'd respond while he continued cooking, unfazed. They seemingly shared clothes: the younger guys preferred to don John and Simon's apparel all the time. You stopped going into the walk-in for a while, you figured you'd give Gaz and Soap some privacy (although they didn't seem to mind an audience). Christ, was everyone fucking everyone here?

You were taking a smoke break with Price when he leaned back on the railing and adjusted himself, it wasn't really adjusting himself as it was more him gripping his thick dick and looking directly into your eyes. You nearly choked as he smiled.

Ghost threw you a hoodie when he dropped you off one night. It started raining before you got home and you were complaining about just getting your hair done. You tried to give it back but he refused to take it.

"Keep it. I don't care about that one anyways."

He shrugged. You'd wear the oversized hoodie to bed, the smell was comforting. Smoky, dusty, boozy, like Javanese vetiver. It smelled like a grown man. Delicious. Accidentally wore it to work one day when you were in a rush getting ready. That started a trend for the rest of them to get you to wear their clothes. It less of a trend and more of a competition honestly. They'd "accidentally" spill drinks or food on you.

"No worries, I've got an extra shirt in my car!"

They'd have a wide, cheeky smile plastered on their faces while giving you their shirt. Of course, they wouldn't take them back either; so you had a growing collection of huge shirts that you'd wear around your apartment. Eventually, you had to go back to the walk-in. Thankfully, there were no exhibitionists present. You were reaching to grab some ketchup when the door opened. You and Johnny stared at each other for a long moment.

"Need help getting that, bonnie?"

Before you could respond he was reaching over you, pressing his chest on your back. He handed you the bottle while his dick grew hard on your ass. He was breathing hard in your ear, waiting for your reaction. You pushed back on him and that's all he needed, he gripped your hips and grinded into you. Even through your jeans you could feel his dick twitch when you moaned. It was a hot minute of panting while he pulled you back onto him desperately, like he was trying to fuck you right through the denim. The door handle clicked. You both froze, staring at the entryway.

"Johnny?"

Gaz's head popped in. Your face got hot while he stared back and forth at the two of you. One thing led to another, and your pants are around your ankles while Johnny is face first in your wet folds. Kyle is standing behind you, fucking your thighs and leaving sloppy kisses on your neck.

"Pretty doll, how long have ye bin waiting fur this, huh?"

Soap looked up at you with so much adoration, like he was servicing a goddess.

"Gonna cum Johnn-"

Gaz whimpered and bit your shoulder to muffle his groans as he came right between your thighs and cunt. Soap cleaned up the mess greedily, savouring the taste of both your juices. He didn't stop eating you out until you finished. Gaz held you up while your knees buckled when you came undone. Gentlemen they are, pulled up your pants for you and wiped the smeared lipgloss from your face. You stumbled out of the freezer, walking past the kitchen. Price's eyes crinkled as he saw you head out onto the floor.

~

"You shouldn't do that in there. It's unsanitary. And a health code violation."

Simon looked straight ahead as he weaved between cars. You opened your mouth, but no words came to mind, so you just nodded. Your leg bounced nervously. He grabbed your thigh, stopping the movement. His hand stayed there until you were in front of your place. You stared at him, his brown eyes boring into you.

"G'night."

He pulled his hand away, placing both of them on the steering wheel. You walked into your apartment, dizzy with confusion. "What the fuck is going on?"

[alexiroflife]

"megumi is annoyed with gojo for getting distracted with you and being late for everything because of it, so he makes it his life’s mission to ruin gojo’s chances of dating you..."

fluff, crack

gojo has a severe issue with constantly following you like a puppy dog wherever you go. after that day he had run into you on a whim at the park, your pretty (e/c) eyes locking with his as you both shared passing glances the moment your shoulders brushed, he was stuck to you. gojo stopped dead in his tracks, calling out to you and asking what your name was. you turned over your shoulder, stuttering to a stop upon realizing that handsome guy had been talking to you. you told him your name, that you attended the university down the block, and he was set.

gojo was sure to secure your number before you parted ways that day, approaching you as interested in friendship rather than someone completely enamored by your beauty and desperate to get to know you more. he would text you every day, from then on, pressing further about your hobbies and inserting himself into your daily routine, which you fortunately did not mind. the two of you end up spending a lot of time together, thoroughly enjoying each other’s presence.

megumi, ten years old, witnesses gojo’s clinginess with you fast because it quickly has an affect on how often gojo fulfills his responsibilities in looking after him. megumi remembers the first time gojo forgot about him because he was distracted by you. he had been meant to purchase and drop of megumi’s weekly groceries, but he ran into you at the supermarket and ended up helping you take your groceries home instead. megumi had to wait three hours for gojo to bring him his next week’s supply of food. things like this continued to happen the longer you to knew each other, but megumi knows it isn’t your fault that gojo is attached to you at the hip and flirts with you shamelessly but won’t muster up the courage to tell you he likes you. 

megumi’s last straw is when he is left stranded outside of his elementary school for forty-five minutes because he ran into you “eating at a cafe by yourself and you needed company.” the ten year old watches gojo pull up slowly with you in the passenger’s seat, waving at him apologetically with a kind smile. his blood boils as gojo smiles, shrugging bashfully and saying he lost track of time. megumi decides with a hastiness that he would ruin every chance gojo takes to flirt with you after the twenty one year old suddenly announces that he is driving twenty minutes opposite of his house to drop you off at your dorm. 

gojo first senses something is off when you are over at megumi’s house one day after school, looking for snacks in the cabinets. gojo and megumi are sitting at the kitchen island while megumi does his homework and gojo watches you move around with a soft smile on his lips, chin propped in his palm. you turn over your shoulder and ask the two if they have any chips, to which megumi beats gojo to answering: “gojo ate them all. he’s always eating everything in my house. i try to get him to stop, but i guess he just gets too hungry.” the white haired man slowly turns to face megumi as you carry on about your business, eyes wide and a mortified smile on his face. megumi doesn’t look at him, continuing his english homework. 

gojo knows he’s being targeted the second time around, when he suggests that you sleep over in his room because it is getting late and megumi advises you not to because he allegedly saw a nonexistent redhead leaving his room last night and is ‘worried about your exposure to lice.’ gojo chases the spikey haired kid around his living room later on after you inevitably go home, threatening to take him back to the zenin clan. 

the day megumi outright proposes that you get a boyfriend during a car ride over to your campus, gojo almost loses control of the steering wheel and decides he has to keep you as far away from megumi as possible. megumi gets his wish when gojo begins to pay more attention to the days he’s supposed to pick him up from school and separates his days with you from them accordingly, but megumi doesn’t plan to let this slide so easily. for weeks, he suffered the aftermath of gojo getting distracted by being your shadow, and for weeks gojo would suffer his karma.

when he hears you on the phone with him, megumi barges in the room and loudly asks to talk to you. you, overhearing, welcome the conversation gladly and ask gojo to hand over the phone while he glares animatedly at the boy’s blank face. he has to wait twenty minutes for megumi to finish talking monotonously about his day into the speaker, and by the time gojo gets his phone back, you have to head to a meeting with your classmates. the call ends and gojo ponders over why his kid is praying so intently over his downfall. 

and of course there are the days when you ask to come over to see gojo and megumi, and gojo is physically incapable of refusing quality time with you or telling you no in any regard. he practically begs megumi on his knees to behave five minutes before you arrive, to which the fushiguro blatantly ignores. the blue eyed sorcerer is fuming with rage as he sits across from you and megumi, watching as you help him with his science project after him asking for your assistance, a stunning, bubbly grin on your face. gojo’s initial frustrations shift into envy for your attention, and before you know it he’s pouting with his arms crossed in silence. 

megumi is satisfied with himself, concluding that gojo is officially fed up and has given up completely on pursuing you. he commends himself mutely for his successes after working so hard, though his actual enjoyment of your tranquil company made the experience more tolerable. he runs off to take a shower when you’re grabbing your belongings, preparing to uber back to your dorm. normally gojo pesters you about letting him drive you home when you’re over, so when he only flashes you a smile and holds the door for you as you walk through, you immediately think something is wrong.

the blue eyed man’s lips press together, eyes blank as he shakes and tells you everything is okay. your eyes slim in suspicion as you look over his face, unconvinced by his horrible lying skills. you ask again and he smiles again, telling you he is fine and to go enjoy the rest of your day without him. you furrow your brows in confusion before realizing that you had been busy with little megumi all day and hardly paid attention to your friend. he’s jealous. you giggle, and find it cute the way his half smile melts and he broods, perplexed by your laughter. 

you tease your friend of a few months, telling him that the next time you hang out, you two will spend the day alone. pink rises to gojo’s cheeks. “you still wanna spend time with me?” he asks and you scoff. “yeah, why wouldn’t i?” “i don’t know, i just thought megumi convinced you not to like me…”

you laugh again, the sound ringing like church bells in his ear. you tell him he’s ridiculous for getting worked up over a ten picking on him and puffs his lips and rolls his eyes. you know there is a mutual attraction shared between you and gojo. you’ve liked him since the second he asked for your number, but never said anything because he limited your relationship to what you assumed ws platonic flirting. now, watching him pout over the thought that megumi pushed you away makes you realize that there may be something real to his attachment to you.

a smug smile lifts to gojo’s face and his mood immediately improves. he tells you he’ll pick you up from your math class tomorrow for a ride, just the two of you. you hum in agreement and lean up to your tiptoes, holding the side of his face with your fingers and pressing a kiss to his cheekbone. “it's a date,” you say. you pull away and his expression is dopey, eyes dazed and grin bright. 

megumi runs back into the living room at the wrong time. he goes to grab his bookbag from the sofa and return it to his room when he catches a glimpse of the horror, his face scrunching in disgust as you peck gojo’s cheek at the front door. megumi turns grim, mourning over his failed plan. oh well, he tried. he wishes you luck dealing with that freak, and figures that the next time gojo annoys him, he can just save himself half the trouble and log him out of the shared netflix account.

you are halfway out the door, smile making your cheeks ache and heart bursting, when you hear megumi shouting from inside. “wash your mouth when you get home, (y/n)! you don’t know where he’s been!” you hear the front door slam and dramatic, muffled complaining follow as you walk to your uber stifling a laugh.

[pseudowho]

"Oi mate! This one yours?"

Kento faltered, an exasperated half-smile on his lips as he took you in, one hand on his hip and the other clutching his lower face. You swayed, completely smashed and giggling to yourself, on the bouncer's seat outside the club. The crowds bustled around you, heading home, somewhere between morning and night.

The bouncer looked peeved at your constant mild mockery of him, laughing to yourself with messy hair, a wonky dress, your heels in your hand, and bubbling over with ginrumtequilasoursshots. Kento sighed to himself, his resignation sparking with affectionate humour.

"Yes. Yes, that one is...mine."

Your ears piqued to hear Kento, a genuine grin splashing over your bleary-eyed face. You threw your arms into the air, the bouncer flinching away from you.

"Kento! Uppies!"

"Don't be ridiculou-- not giving you uppies--"

Your face crumpled, all innocent disappointment, and it shot Kento through with knives. A faint blush smattered across high, tight cheekbones, his face otherwise the picture of cool impassivity.

"...fine. Uppies. Just this once."

With a gigglesnort, your head swooped as you allowed Kento to lift you effortlessly onto his back, and sighed deeply into the heat of him, his enormous hands cupping your arse and hips. You felt yourself swayed half to sleep by his steady steps, the cool smell of night air on tarmac, and the sounds of the club fading into the distance behind you.

"...Kento?"

"Hmmm?" You bit your lip at the rumble of his back against your body. You replied, saccharine.

"...love you, Kento. Thanks...thanks for picking me up."

Another rumble, dismissive. "I love you. As if I wouldn't pick you up."

"...some boyfriends wouldn't pick me up--"

"When was I ever 'some boyfriends'?"

You bit into his shoulder, squirming against his back as he tensed. You fizzled, every nerve alight with liquor and want. Kento was silent for a moment, still walking in and out of streetlight shadow, in, out, in, out...

"...besides, I'm your husband."

You gasped, your head swimming with drink and surprise. "Oh yeah! Oh wow...my husband...yeah."

Kento scoffed, used to this. He felt your hands trail over his chest as he pressed you into the back seat of the car, strapping you in. He knew better than to put you and your drunk, wandering hands into the passenger seat.

You barely blinked, snoring in the back seat, before you awoke with a jolt and a squeak, being carried into the house. Kento juggled keys, and the car blip-blipped behind him as he fumbled the door open, kicking it closed behind him.

"Hey, Kento..." you whispered, loudly, as if bestowing a great secret, "...I think...we should go to bed..."

"Ah, yes. Definitely."

"...yeah?" You flirted, not as sly and seductive as you thought. Kento's nose grazed yours, his voice lowering a decibel. He laid you back on the bed, and crawled over you, strong arms bracketing you in as he spoke.

"...first...I'll undress you, nice and slow."

You squirmed, giggling beneath his forehead kisses, and he continued.

"...then, I'll get something more...comfortable, out of your wardrobe."

You bit the back of your hand, wiggling beneath him as his twinkling eyes drank you in.

"And then...I'll get you all dressed up."

You were on fire, alight with promise, and groped shamelessly at Kento's biceps as he chuckled.

"...and I'll take off all your make-up, and put you in your ugliest pyjamas, and brush your teeth, and put you to bed. With a glass of water and some pain relief on the nightstand."

You slapped his chest in a half-genuine sob, devastated, certain you'd managed to seduce him this time.

"Nooo, Kentoooo...please please please fuck me--"

"Absolutely not."

"But why not?!"

"Behave yourself."

"Don't you want me?"

"--looking like a sloppy Tanuki? No, my darling--"

"Hate you."

A quiet rumble, a laugh as he made his promise come true, stripping you naked just to dress you again. Brushing your teeth. Cleaning your face, and moisturising it. Rolling you into bed, more wine than woman.

You managed just a few more incoherent noises of complaint...before soft snores filled your bedroom. Kento huffed, chuckling to himself as he got ready for bed.

One night, you convinced yourself as you dipped into sleep, you may manage to seduce him while drunk. Tonight was not that night. Nor the next night. Not the next night. Nor the next night--

[poguehearted77]

Wild Child

summary: after being sent away to boarding school for being a wild child you're finally back and celebrating your return in the only way you see fit.

smut: pool party, ragers, drug use (alcohol, vapes n weed), size kink, Rafe is cocky, mentions of old flings, manhandling, hot tubs, they do it on her parents' bed, rough sex, step-mom slander, reader is such a flirt n a tease, curvy reader, dom! rafe, bratty! reader, skinny dipping, mentions of body shots, choking, spanking (like once).

The morning sun was ascending high into the sky when you finally managed to get yourself out of your king-sized bed, fit for someone of your status and your parents' financial standing.

Your socked feet took padded steps towards your window where you overlooked the hills of figure eight. This was the first time you'd looked out your bedroom window in years. With a deep inhale a soft smile etched its way across your lips. You were finally home, and you had the house all to yourself. Or so you thought.

Your ears pick up on muffled indistinct chatter that managed to travel from the kitchen, down the halls up the elaborate staircase and into your room. Quickly, you headed for the source of the voices and were disappointed to see your dad and his wife plaything, Maria, conversing over coffee at the kitchen island.

"I thought you said the Jet leaves at dawn? What are you guys still doing here?" You try not to sound too curious, arms crossing naturally with your inquiry. With a clearing of his throat, your dad speaks up, "You only just came back two nights ago. Maria and I just don't think it's the right time to leave you alone for the weekend."

You scoff, "Why? You still don't trust me after what happened last time? Get over it, I'm twenty-one now, you can trust me." As you walked over to the fridge for a glass of water, you heard a muted exchange of ideas behind you.

"You can't expect us to forget about all the damage you caused. We still haven't found anyone to repair my crystal vases." You take a long sip, trying to swallow your toxic thoughts with the water.

She thinks she can just waltz up and down the house with that huge ring on her finger and think that her opinion carries any value to you.

You took a deep breath and plastered on a fake smile, pitching your voice to become as sweet as honey.

"I can never apologize enough for what I did back then, but how will I ever earn your trust if you don't give me the chance." Your doe eyes land on your father, specifically his weakened composure.

You're about to break him, you can see it.

He exhales, all the air escaping through his nostrils.

Broken.

He glances down at his watch, "Fine, but if you throw another party so help me god Y/n you'll never see grass again." You play it cool, thanking him with a simple hug and completely disregarding Maria before you make your way back upstairs.

It's as though a weight had been lifted off your chest. You needed them out of the house, you'd been planning this party since you got back and made sure all the guests knew to keep it on the down low, just until they were gone.

The hours fly by, and you hardly keep track of time as you and some of your long-time friends set up the house for the party that you shouldn't be hosting, but you're Y/n Sinclair. Parties are your thing.

"Macy, you let the people in, kay? I'm gonna go get changed." The sun was beginning to set and the music was already blasting, vibrating over the marble floors of the house. Every lyric was punctuated with a shaking of the speakers that could be felt even outside.

The neighbours hated to see you coming.

You know your dad's jet was en route to Fiji and he wouldn't be able to reach you until he landed which wasn't for another six hours at minimum but by then the damage will be long done and far too late to stop.

You make your way up the stairs, the bass thumping through the house and vibrating beneath your feet. As you step into your room, your reflection catches your eye, excitement sparking in your gaze.

With a quick flick of your wrist, you reach for the strappy black and red two-piece, slipping it on, the cool fabric hugging every curve just right. Each strap crisscrosses elegantly, bold yet balanced, making you smile at how perfectly it all came together.

Next, you grab the sheer cover-up, wrapping it loosely around your waist so it drapes with a hint of movement, a playful edge that sways with you. You run your fingers through your curls, scrunching them gently to bring out their bounce, each coil framing your face in soft waves. Reaching for your lip gloss, you swipe it carefully over your lips, catching the light with a glossy shine.

One last look, and you’re ready, your heart beating in rhythm with the music below. The speakers are already blaring, the energy practically calling you back down. You step out with a final tousle of your curls, ready to join the night.

The energy crackles through the backyard as you make your way to the top of the outdoor staircase. The sun has slipped beneath the horizon, casting a dusky glow over the massive pool below, illuminated by floating lights that shimmer across the water.

The bar is buzzing with people grabbing drinks, and in the corner, the foam pit is already filling up, laughter and splashes mixing with the heavy beat of the music.

A neon sign hangs across from the bar, glowing boldly against the evening sky: The Queen of Kildare is Back. You grin, amused at the sight of it knowing it was 100% Macy's doing, and take a step down. Conversations hush, replaced by the roaring blast of excitement as heads turn your way. Hundreds of people, from familiar faces to those you only vaguely recognize from your past in Figure Eight, pause and look up, anticipation brimming in their eyes.

As you descend, your cover-up billows behind you, revealing the bold lines of your black and red two-piece. The crowd’s reaction is instant, erupting into cheers, whistles, and applause that echo across the yard.

"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n" They chant and you laugh. Every step closer to the party, you feel the atmosphere thicken, charged with that infectious blend of excitement and admiration. By the time you reach the bottom, someone’s already handing you a drink, while friends rush over to pull you in for hugs and greetings, their voices nearly drowned out by the music and shouts.

"Y/n Sinclair, s'Been a while."

There's a voice all too familiar addressing you from behind, prompting you to pivot to come face to face with a much taller Rafe than your brain could recall.

"Rafe Cameron. Long time no see." He goes in for the hug, your arms reaching over his broadened shoulders while his longer ones wrap around your waist before pulling back. He not so subtly checked you out, his tongue darting out over his lips briefly as he took you in and you did the same.

The buzzed hair sharpens his features, you think. Making his eyes seem darker, more intense, as they focus on you. His open linen shirt falls loosely over his frame, giving glimpses of his toned chest and the subtle gleam of a thin chain resting against his skin.

The shirt flutters with the breeze, barely hanging on his shoulders, hinting at the strong lines of his arms and drawing your eyes down to his relaxed, dark swim trunks.

He’s saying something, leaning slightly toward you, and his voice cuts smoothly through the bass of the party. Your eyes wander back up to his face, catching the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as if he knows he’s caught your attention.

"You look good, too good. How long's it been?" It's hard for you to think with the heat of his gaze on you, but you don't falter, never surrendering to this never-ending game between the two of you.

"About 3 years." He hums, the way he looks at you, casual yet purposeful, makes your pulse quicken, and suddenly, every sound around you fades, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the way he looks right at you, but you remind yourself to focus.

Rafe looks around the scene, eyes lingering over the wet t-shirt contest and then the game of chicken being held in the pool while others lounged on the various floaties or indulged in ungodly amounts of alcohol at the bar. As he does so, the pungent scent of weed drafts across your nostrils.

"Your old man know you're hostin' tonight?" You had to laugh, "Oh please, like he would ever let me have any kind of fun while he's in town. He and the skank are in Fiji."

The slight smirk that etches over his perfect lips taunts you. "So the house is yours?" He leans in, a little closer, closing the gap between you. "Until he comes back and banishes me again," You place a confident hand against his chest, pushing him away, "But for now, I'm here to party, and you should be too."

With that said you walk away from him, letting your hips sway with seduction radiating with each step. Rafe lets his thumb and fingers stroke over his jaw, feeling the weight of the pressure you'd just applied.

God, it was good to have you back.

The party raged on, slowly approaching its peak, body shots were going on at the bar, girls were doing lines in the bathrooms and the guys had insisted on a drunk game of volleyball in the pool.

Rafe took a break from the events of the party and watched from the sidelines on the couch, taking another hit of the vape that someone had passed to him, he's not sure he can remember who, and it wasn't relevant anyway.

The only person he had his sights set on is you. Watching you have the time of your life with your friends on the platform in the middle of the pool. Your little group, clearly intoxicated danced carefree while you'd begun to put your hands on the ground and throw your ass in circles.

Rafe choked, sitting up, some smoke coming through his nostrils at the interrupted airflow. He leaves his shirt behind on the couch with the abandoned vape, just as he heads for the pool topped hands him a beer which Rafe accepts before he gets in.

Maintaining a straight face as his body acclimatizes to the cool water he's almost immediately swarmed and roped into a round of whatever the current pool game was.

His icy gaze looks up to the center of the pool where you once were but are now nowhere to be found. "Looking for someone?" Your voice was mocking and he was grinning before he even turned around.

"I am actually." With little ripples in the water, he steps towards you maintaining a respectful distance that was driving you insane. "I was looking for someone to join me at the bar," He puts on a convincing facade but you roll your eyes, feigning innocence.

"Let me know if you find her," He slowly steps towards you and step back, "Don't play dumb with me, Y/n." Your plush lips form a gut-wrenching pout, "What do you mean?" Another step forward, another one back. The cycle repeats itself until he has you backed up against the edge of the pool.

Rafe’s hands find your waist, and before you can react, he’s lifting you effortlessly, placing you on the edge of the pool. You're reeling at the slutty display of his sheer strength.

Your legs dangle, brushing against his chest, and he steps closer, slotting himself right between them. His hands rest on either side of you, his arms framing you in as he looks up with that sly grin, every bit as teasing as you are.

“Always out here playin' games, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his voice low, a quiet rasp just for you. “Gotta say, I respect it—always sticking it to your old man, doing your own thing.” He leans in, his gaze drifting down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “Not many people around here have the guts for that.”

You scoff lightly, though your heart skips as his gaze lingers on you, intense and challenging. “Oh, please,” you tease, rolling your eyes. “Since when do you care about any of this?”

A quiet laugh slips from him as his fingers trace slow, deliberate circles along your thigh. “You think I haven’t been paying attention to you all these years?” he murmurs, leaning closer, his breath warm against your neck.

“You might’ve been gone a while, but don't think I forgot all those nights we had our fun.” His words hang heavy between you as he pulls back slightly. Now his hand rests on your waist, his voice dropping lower.

He tilts his head, studying you with that familiar glint of mischief. “Now that you're back, I think we should relive some of our traditions, for old time's sake,” he says, leaning in until his lips brush against your jaw, light and teasing, close enough to make your pulse race. He pauses, his thumb skimming your cheek, his lips hovering just above yours, waiting. “But don’t act like you don’t want this as much as I do.”

Before you can snap back, his mouth claims yours, the kiss charged with all the years of pent-up tension and that all-too-familiar heat. His hands slide up to cradle your face as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him even closer. The kiss deepens, and when he finally pulls back just enough to catch his breath, he watches you with a smug, knowing grin.

“There it is,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your lips, his thumb tracing your jaw as if memorizing every inch. “That look you get right before we make a mess of things. I knew it—you missed this just as much as I did.”

If only someone could recount how the two of found yourselves stumbling up the stairs towards your room, your soaked sheer cover-up left forgotten somewhere in the house after Rafe pulled it off of your frame.

"Shit-- Rafe," your teeth dug into the flesh of your bottom lip as you reached to open your bedroom door, horrified to see two other people had monopolized it. They hadn't even noticed the door was opened so you quickly closed it.

"What the fuck, I thought everyone knew my room was off limits." With a quick scan, you noticed items were hanging off almost all the guest rooms in the hall letting others know the room was occupied.

"Shit, there's nowhere else to go in here?" You think quickly on your feet before rushing off to get something before returning with a key in your grip.

Rafe pulls you close with a smirk as you clutch the key to your father’s room, the gleam in your eyes daring him to follow. “Breaking all the rules tonight, aren’t we?” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with approval. His hand slips around your waist as you unlock the door, both of you glancing down the hall to be sure no one’s watching.

You twist the handle and push open the door, and his hand slides down to squeeze your hip, pulling you against him. “I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he whispers against your ear, his lips grazing your skin, sending a thrill down your spine.

Once inside, you barely have a chance to lock the door before he has you pressed up against it. His lips are on yours, urgent and fierce, his hands roaming over your body with possessive ease. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he breathes between kisses, his fingers tracing the bare skin of your waist as he lifts your top, letting it fall to the floor. “Thought I’d forgotten?” you tease.

Rafe just about growls, dipping down to kiss along your collarbone, his hands sliding lower as he backs you towards the bed. His fingers hook under the waistband of your bottoms, tugging them down with a smirk that sends heat rushing through you.

Your heart races as you feel the cool, forbidden sheets beneath you, the thrill of defying every rule and having Rafe look at you like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted. His hands slide up your thighs, lips trailing down your neck as he leans over you. “You know,” he murmurs, voice heavy with desire as he takes in the sight of you sprawled out before him, “I always knew you were trouble. Guess that’s why I can’t stay away.”

With a smirk, he leans in, his lips brushing over yours as his hands explore, both of you savouring the thrill of being tangled up in each other once again.

"Look at these perfect fuckin' tits." He curses, big hands cupping your breasts, kneading them and rolling your nipples between his index and thumb. Your back arches slightly with a gasp, chest pressing up into him and he laughs.

"Still so sensitive here, angel? Some things never change." He reminisces and you roll your eyes, "Fuck off, Rafe." With the blink of an eye, his much larger frame was caging you in from above, his bulging biceps giving him an erotic juxtaposition in comparison to your head.

Balancing himself on one arm he slinks his palm around the expanse of your throat with a weighted pressure. "Been gone so long you forgot your manners? Mm? That's fine, I'll be sure to fuck some sense back into you."

Your eyes flutter shut at his filthy words as you feel his hand move and begin to work you between your legs. "Your pussy's fuckin' soaked--shit." He hisses, gaze hungry and his body acts on his thoughts faster than you can register.

A particularly loud moan slips from you as you feel his tongue skillfully lap over your folds, splitting you open as the warmth of his tongue protrudes into your core. "Yes, fuck! Please, don't stop Rafe." You moan, one hand reaching down to hold him by the hair and it hits you that he'd shaved it all off.

You let out a frustrated gruff, both hands fisting the sheets while you're forced to feel the vibrations of his sick laugh running through you at your dramatics. Even the tip of his nose had been covered in your slick, your juices running down his chin as he ate you out like a man starved.

He wouldn't be surprised if they could hear you from outside, but he knows everyone is far too high, too drunk or both to hear you. It wasn't long before your legs were beginning to shake and came with his name falling from your lips over and over like a prayer.

Taking deep breaths to recover from debatedly the best orgasm you've ever experienced, Rafe walked over to the far wall, out of sight, doing something you couldn't see before returning.

Without speaking he scoops you up into his arms, bridal style, another shameless display of his strength but it would be a lie to say it didn't drive you crazy. "What-what are you doing?" Your questions are ignored until he approaches the bubbling hot tub.

A wicked smirk curls across his lips as he eases you onto your feet in the warm water, his hands lingering on your waist, keeping you close. He gazes at you with that knowing glint, the steam rising around you both.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” he murmurs, his eyes trailing down your figure, unapologetic. His fingers skim over your sides, sending a shiver through you that’s from anything but the water.

“Are you really just gonna stand there?” you call, feeling the thrill of his attention but wanting to turn the tables, your voice laced with playful challenge.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he chuckles, unfastening his swim trunks and letting them fall to the side with a carefree grin. “I plan on joining you,” he says, slipping into the water and closing the distance between you two with smooth, unhurried steps. You take a hard swallow at his size, you don't remember him being this big.

He was going to destroy you.

You raise an eyebrow, matching his smirk. “Pretty bold of you, Rafe,” you say, your voice teasing as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Just like old times, hmm?”

“Better than old times,” he murmurs, dipping his head so his lips graze your ear, his voice a low rumble. “Because now, nothing is stopping us.” He punctuates his sentence by pressing his body up against your back, elevating you a bit so your torso leans over the edge of the tub, granting him easy access to you.

"Fuck, can't believe your ass got even more fucking perfect since last time." His hand raises and comes back down with a loud spank that pulls a sinful moan from your throat. "Rafe, stop teasing." You whine, arching your back and pressing back against him.

His composure already weekend, he decided to let you get away with it this time before he lined up the swollen head of his thick cock with your entrance, "Better grab onto something." That's the last thing you hear before you're being impaled on his dick, your upper half immediately falls forward, and he stills, giving you a second.

You're breathless, it feels like his cock was taking up all the room in your lungs. Some water had splashed over the ledge but that was the least of your worries. Your mind was hazy and focused on Rafe's grunts that escaped him with every snap of his hips.

"Wish you could see how hot you look right now. The Sinclair wild child knows how to take big dick like a champ." His words run straight through you like electricity, fanning the flames of the burning heat that was beginning to form in your belly.

"Shit--This pussy was fuckin' made for me, y'know that?" You moan at his possessive statement. You can only nod, your body had gone limp long ago as he drilled into you. "R-rafe! I'm-" As if you weren't close enough, his fingers begin to rub over your clit aggressively and you jolt with a shriek.

"Oh- fuck, don't stop! Fuck! I'm gonna cum! Please, Rafe." You beg, over and over, arms hanging onto the edge of the tub for dear life as more water splashes around you.

"Wait for me, hold it until I say you can come." You're chewing your lip raw, desperately trying to hold yourself back as he wrecks you from the inside out, his moans getting more frequent, a little more airy and breathless as he tumbled toward his edge of pleasure.

"Cum with me, Angel." Your body spasms as you finish together and he leans his weight against your back, his laboured breathing fanning your ear as you come down from your high.

"Not bad, princess." You couldn't respond and Rafe took note of this, carefully holding you up with one final smug remark, "Hope I didn't wear out the queen of Kildare."