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dpimagines · 1 year

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The Sharpest Lives; Wade Wilson (feat. Nathan Summers) – Part 5 of 5

I expected this to be smuttier. Maybe I can get around to writing a bonus chapter with smut if any of you would be into that? Let me know!

Same trigger warnings, actually, this is much milder since the action/conflict has pretty much passed. Yay for happy endings!

tag list: @peculiar-persephone @fuckyouandtheboatyoucamein @yomama-umbridge @dee-vn @ghostlyvenus-selfships

Waking up is less dramatic than yesterday. Simply put, you got too hot. Wade’s healing factor makes him the equivalent of a heated blanket that’s just a little too warm.

He’s already awake, though, gazing at you in a silence that to most would seem uncharacteristic.

But you know him.

“Can- Can I call you ‘baby,’ now?” he asks. It lacks his false bravado, in fact, he sounds like the scared little boy he once was, before the killing and the new girl every night and the grand love story and the cruel experimentation. Before he was him.

You nod solemnly.

“They’ll be here in a couple hours. After that, we’ll get Eddie and then lay low for a little while, blow away some of our savings. Get to know each other again, and get to know him.”

You nod again.

“I love you, you know that, right?”

And again.

“Say something?” he meekly requests.

“Water, please?” you croak, throat dry.

He leaps to action, accidentally shaking the rollaway a little bit and waking Russell with a start.

“Sorry, little man. Just grabbing some water for the wifey.”

Wade toddles over to the kitchenette, and you turn, wrenching yourself from Nathan’s grip to observe him as Wade observed you. Some people look more at peace when asleep. Not him. His jaw is clenched shut; his eyebrows are furrowed. You brush a tuft of his gray hair from his face, and he snatches your wrist.

You flinch back, and recognition washes over his face, remorse following shortly after.

“No touching while you’re asleep, gotcha,” you awkwardly chuckle.

“Can’t imagine why you’d wanna touch this mug,” he grumbles.

“Get used to asking yourself that question every day!” Wade chirps. “Well, on second thought, you are super fucking se-”

“Wade,” you hiss, reminding him once again that there’s a kid present.

Nathan takes a moment to examine the arm he grabbed.

“Sorry,” he nearly whispers, but you shake your head.

“I scared you,” you dismiss it. “Don’t you start with the whole delicate treatment, too.”

“It’s not that you are delicate. You just deserve to be treated like it. Y’know, gentle.”

Wade laughs heartily, nearly spilling the glass he’s returned with.

You give him a pointed look as he hands it to you. You take a nice, long drink before placing it on the nightstand.

“I didn’t say anything,” he defends himself.

“Oh, is that how it is?” Nathan looks up at you with a glint in his eye best described as devious. Blood rushes to your face, but you force it back nearly as fast. “That’s a nice little trick you’ve got there.”

“What trick?” Wade asks, oblivious.

“He doesn’t know.” Nathan looks a little too proud of himself.

“I don’t know how you do.”

“I… Have some telepathic abilities. They’re almost exclusively used to keep the virus from taking over, but I can still sense some things. She uses her abilities to push the blood away from her face so she won’t blush. I wasn’t sure what you were doing the other night when I felt it, but you’re a little slower in the mornings, aren’t you?”

Wade is gobsmacked.

“Yes, she knew,” you know the question he’s too scared to ask. “That night was her idea, actually.”

“That night?!” he squeaks.

“That night?” Nathan asks.

“Well, I kind of…challenged Wade. To make me blush,” you explain as vaguely as you can, but Russell still chortles.

“You were so mean,” Wade teasingly whines. “You’re just not trying hard enough,” he imitates you shockingly well.

“You liked it,” you remind him.

“Evil little- Hmph!” Wade grumbles, and you can’t help but giggle.

“If I was as goofy as the two of you, I’d be playing dead right now,” Nathan cuts in.

“Huh?” you and Wade respond.

“Y’know, how I said I’d drop dead… Ugh, nevermind,” he groans. “See? Not goofy.”

“Wait, no, I get it now!” you reassure him. “Very funny.”

“I don’t.”

“Oh, it’s just something he said the night before last, about how much prettier I’d be if I was well-rested and… Really smiling.” You smile again, gazing at your newly-found soulmate. “Guess it happened sooner than I thought.” You know there will be days where the grief is crushing, but you’ll feed on this little slice of happiness, on any that you can find. Something tells you that you won’t be running out of them anytime soon, even with the hard times to come.

“Can I kiss you?” Nathan asks.

You look to Wade for approval.

“He’s your soulmate, too,” he tells you with a shrug.

And so, you two have a kiss that’s a little more than chaste, but still simple. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you once again have to prevent yourself from blushing like it’s the first kiss you’ve ever received.

He’s smirking like you did, though, and that’s when you know you’re in for it.

“Cute,” he says softly.

“Isn’t she?” Wade rejoins you in bed. “Let’s just cuddle until the X-Losers get here.”

“Dude,” you remind him, and he turns to Russell.

“Oh, they’re, uh, they’re not losers, I- Uh-”

“Anyways, I’d like to remedy my morning breath and do my best to no longer reek of blood and sweat.”

“Wouldn’t we all?” Wade agrees. He and Russell are still in their yucky jumpsuits from the prison. “How about this? Russell gets picked up by them, and we go back to the apartment for a group shower?”

Nathan clears his throat.

“You don’t have to join, but I will say, Y/N really gets into your back with this super yummy-smelling scrub, I mean, why make it with sugar and make it smell like fruit if you don’t want people to eat it? It’s downright cruel, truly, I-”

“Can you shower?” you wonder, cutting Wade off. “Do you need, like, a special sleeve for…” You’re not sure what to call the metal creeping up Nathan’s neck and covering his arm.

“It’s hard to explain, but it’s organic.”

“So’s malachite,” you reply, wanting a real answer. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t give off toxic fumes when it gets wet.”

“Oh, a geologist, are we?” he half-snarks back.

“Best friends with one.”

And with that, you get a call from Ellie.

“Speak of the devil. Hi.”

“We’re almost there. You okay?”

“Okay-er than I was yesterday, and the day before,” you tell her.

“Good,” she replies. “See you soon.”

“Yes, ma’am! Be safe, love you.” You hang up.

“It’s fine. The metal, I mean. Doesn’t rust or anything, at least not yet,” Nathan mumbles. “And it’s been around for a long time.”

You nod in understanding.

Wade ruffles your hair and you sigh, still a little drowsy.

“Are you excited?” you ask Russell.

“Yeah, kinda…”

“It’s a great place. I grew up there.”

This seems to relieve him a bit.

“I get my own bed?”

“You’ll probably have a roommate or two, but, yeah. And there’s plenty of food to go around, and movie nights where the movie doesn’t get turned off, and… It can be a lot sometimes, but it really is like one big family.”

You feel a pang in your heart and look at Wade, who’s looking at Nathan.

“I’ll explain later, maybe,” Nathan mumbles.

“Okay,” you reply.

There’s a knock at the door, a special pattern that you know by heart.

You go for the door, opening it up for Ellie, Yukio, and Piotr.

“Russell!” you call.

“You sure you’re okay?” Yukio asks.”You know you can always come back, there’s plenty of room and everyone would be so happy to see you, and-”

“Yukio. She knows,” Ellie mumbles.

“You’d be the happiest to see your pseudo-big sis, don’t pretend it’s any other way!” Yukio insists, and you giggle a little. Russell joins you at the doorway.

“Hey, buddy!” Yukio chirps.

“Russell, this is Yukio, president of the Welcome Committee. This is her girlfriend, Ellie, and that’s Mr. Rasputin. He teaches some of the art classes. Do you like to paint?”

“I think so… It’s been so long,” Russell admits.

“I guess you’ll find out,” you tell him. He grins.

“Do you have any questions before we go? Anything you wanna say?” Ellie asks curtly, but, hey, she’s trying.

Russell simply gives you a big hug.

“Okay, that’s all,” he says before finally crossing the threshold and joining the trio outside.

“See you soon,” you say to the now-quartet, and they all say (or in Ellie’s case, wave) their goodbyes. You shut the door and lock it.

“Alrighty. Let’s go home!” Wade cheers. Both he and Nathan have gotten up at this point. “I, uh, cleaned up the laptop shards. And basically the whole apartment. Cocaine and anxiety, well, they make for a very clean house.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, but Wade shakes his head.

“You had a human reaction to a fucked-up situation. One I put you in. And you already apologized, and I already forgave you. We’re as okay as we could possibly be right now, alright?”

“Alright,” you reply.

“I’m gettin’ kinda curious about this place,” Nathan chimes in. “Especially that whole shower thing.”

“You just wanna see Y/N nekkid,” Wade giggles.

The shade of red Nathan turns is so adorable you feel yourself start to giggle, too, but you try to force it down for his sake.

Nathan clears his throat.

“You don’t?” he retorts, but it took a little too long for him to come up with that to take him seriously.

“Why, of course I do! If I had my way, it would be federal- No, international law for Y/N to never wear clothes. Not for sexual reasons, no, no, sir, but because she is art that should not be hidden from the world. Especially me.”

“Don’t get his hopes up,” you laugh.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Nathan’s tone suddenly darkens when he says this, and he turns your head so you face him directly. “You’re gorgeous, doll. Guess he’s not getting his nose broken. Don’t think I could stand to see tears in those pretty eyes again.”

“You were gonna break my nose?!” Wade whines. “No, wait, that’d be kinda hot. You do aftercare, right?”

Nathan just scoffs, shaking his head.

“Let’s just get checked out and go.”

You and Wade follow his lead, cleaning up after yourselves and letting Nathan do the talking in the lobby while you two wait in the truck. He swiftly returns, and the trip that follows is like the day before yesterday in reverse; the sun gets higher as you return to familiarity. You’re squeezed between Wade’s nervous rambling of directions and Nathan’s stoic silence.

Eventually, you’re home.

Nathan parks behind the duplex to avoid the stolen truck being spotted by those passing by, and the three of you make your way upstairs.

“Shit,” you realize you left your keys inside when you left, and it’s not like Wade was able to retrieve his when you did your little prison break.

“Lock’s still busted, hon,” Wade murmurs.

“Right,” you say, but you don’t open the door, steeling yourself.

“Do you want me to do it?” Nathan asks you both. The two of you nod, and he opens the door.

You sigh as you enter. It’s the same as when you left. Cleaner, like Wade said, but the same. It’s like nothing even happened.

“Nice place,” Nathan comments.

“Thanks,” you and Wade say in unison.

The cleanliness of the apartment makes you even more aware of the grime you feel you’re covered in. You scratch at your cheek.

“Go ahead and hop in the shower,” Wade says. “I’ll lay out some comfy clothes for you and get your phone on the charger.”

“You’re not gonna shower with me?”

“I was… Sorta kidding,” Wade admits. “Figured you might want some time to yourself.”

“‘Cause that totally sounds like me,” you laugh.

“I meant you might not wanna be, y’know, around me.”

There’s a thorn in your heart. Or maybe his.

You shake your head. He embraces you, and it’s gone.

“We’re gonna be okay, you know that, right?” you remind him.

You look up at him, and that grieving ache in his heart intensifies.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“I deserve you even less,” you reply.

“You two. I feel like I’m watching one of Aaliyah’s vampire shows. Go take a fucking shower,” Nathan grumbles, but his cheeks are a little pink. You’d be worried if you felt any jealousy, but you don’t…

Wait, does he think you two are cute?

You nearly giggle.

“Okay,” you respond, giving Nathan a peck on the cheek before heading to the bathroom. You turn the water on and strip down while you wait for it to warm up.

The door opens, and you turn to see Wade.

“Wow,” he blurts.

“You act like it’s the first time every time.”

“Sure does feel like it, hot stuff.” He unzips his jumpsuit and takes off his boxers. “Wait, uh…”

You finally notice the collar, and reach for it.

“No!” The fear jolts you more than his shout does. His fear. “It’ll shock you if you try and take it off. Do, the, uh… The pressure thing.”

“That shit hurts,” you remind him.

“Dying of cancer hurts worse. It neutralizes any mutant ability.”

“Fuck… Okay.”

You take a deep breath, focusing on the beating of his heart; the blood rushing in his veins. You make it burst out of his neck in a tiny, powerful stream, slicing the collar off. It leaves a pretty nasty gash in his neck, but that heals up quickly. You rub at the same spot on your own neck, still feeling the sting a little.

Nathan pounds on the door, scaring you both.

“We’re fine!” Wade shouts. “Had to get my fancy prison necklace off without touching it.”

“Just checking.”

And with that, you check the water again, pulling back.

“Ow!” Wade squeals dramatically.

“I know,” you reply, turning the temperature down. You two share a look, feeling a certain third party’s anxiety simmer in your stomachs.

Nathan knocks on the door again, this time lighter.

“Just come in already,” Wade complains.

The door cracks open.

His eyes widen, flicking between you and Wade.

“Did you not expect us to shower naked, or…?” Wade asks rhetorically.

“Well, I just- Hm. Yeah. Okay.”

He leaves as quickly as he arrived. You and Wade laugh like idiots— mostly at the aching in your groins that isn’t yours —before finally getting in the shower.

Wade squirts a good amount of shampoo in his hands as you wet your hair.

He lathers you up and you damn near melt at the sensation of his fingers against your scalp.

You rinse your hair as he gets the conditioner. He works it into the ends of your hair before the two of you finally kiss. He sighs.

“That’s it. Now, I’m home.”

“You’re so cheesy,” you tell him.

“But you like it,” he sing-songs. “Mm, beautiful.”

“You’re just buttering me up. C’mon, let’s switch spots and I’ll get the scrub.”

He nods, and the two of you do as you said. You unscrew the lid of the scrub and get to work on his back, not bothering to save the best for last.

The scrub stings against his aching skin, but he seems to like whatever other sensations he gets from it, the ones you can’t feel.

“You know, I could just give you a back rub,” you remind him.

“Yeah, but exfoliating gets all the dead skin off so it doesn’t try to heal back and get all gross and flaky. Remember the first time you did this?”

You do. His back looked like a lizard struggling to shed its skin. Wade’s skin doesn’t disgust you, but you have to admit, it did give you the creeps that time.

You finish up quickly, and he turns to rinse the remaining soap and sugar off.

“Want me to get yours?”

You nod and turn around. You only woke up a few hours ago, but the warmth of the shower and the comfort of Wade’s presence is sapping your energy away.

He massages the scrub into your back and you’re once again melting under his touch.

“All done,” he chirps. The two of you continue to wash your bodies, and afterwards you rinse out your conditioner. He turns the water off for you and grabs towels from the hooks just outside. You pat yourselves dry and realize you forgot to grab clean clothes.

The two of you giggle as you skitter out of the bathroom in just your towels, dropping them once you make it to your wardrobe and his dresser.

“Can I wear one of your shirts?” you ask as you pull on your underwear and a pair of sweatpants.

Wade tosses you one and you put it on. He hums with delight at the sight of you.

“Eddie can wait ‘til tomorrow. Now, it’s time for a cuddle sesh,” he suggests. “What do you think, Nate?”

“It’s her money,” he responds from the couch. He’s sitting in her spot. You look at Wade, who’s already looking at you. Your eyes burn a little, but you smile. He has no idea how he’s healing you both, filling that void. Not replacing her, he never could, but he’s like a rectangular block that fits through a square hole; something different taking up the same space.

“I think it can wait until tomorrow,” you agree, heading over to the couch. You take your spot, draping your legs over Nathan’s lap, while Wade takes his and you prop yourself against him. “This is nice.”

“Mhm,” he hums in agreement. You’re all hurting, sure, but… But it’s peaceful. A new normal falling into place.

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decadentjellojaloppy29 · 3 months

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Time after Time

Kinda out of left field but I've always loved Cable and I really wanted to write something with him so I give you a prom fic.

The x mansion is having its first ever prom and it just so happens that you're getting back form a months long solo mission. And there's only been one thing on your mind since you've been gone, Cable. Little do you know you've been on his mind too.

Warnings: Language, naturally its got Deadpool in it so no surprise there. Some suggestive content, again Deadpool. FLUFF.

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

After a long, looooooooooooooooong undercover trip, you had returned. You were sent on the trip by some government official because they thought you'd seem more inconspicuous than any of your peers, (Wade being Wade, Cable having a big ass metal arm and his glowing eye and his...everything else, Colossus literally being made of chrome...Domino would've probably been a good pick for this mission though). You shook your head out of your thoughts as you walked up to the x mansion.

Your clothes were tattered you had cuts and bruises littered all over your body, bandages wrapped haphazardly on your leg. It had been a rough couple of months. The mission almost went awry and you couldn't be happier to finally be home. Walking up to one of the back gates you noticed colorful lights emitting from the house.

"Ok...guess they were serious about that ?" You whispered to yourself. Your eyes following the lights.

You jerk on the gate and notice it's locked. 'Crap' you think to yourself. Reaching up you hoist yourself up and over the fence. You land with a thump onto the ground before finally heading for the mansion, that was bumping with music.

________________________________________

Sitting on a bench outside of the x mansion Cable stared off into the distance. He was tearing up pieces of grass between his fingers and chewing his lip, eye glowing more than usual. Domino walks by, doing a double take when she notices the thousand yard stare Cable's got going on.

"Hey father time...why the long face?" Dom asks sitting down next to him.

Cable scratches the back of his head before clasping his hands together and sighing, "Just...thought she'd be back by now. She's the youngest on the team. Why would they make her go it alone."

Domino nods slowly, a smirk etching it's way onto her face, "So that's what this is about. Is that why you actually showed up in a suit tonight?"

Cable looks down at his admittedly kinda cheesey suit and huffs out a small laugh. "I figured I'd play the part, these kids go through enough I might as well help make their prom feel semi-normal."

"You sure there's no other reason?" Dom asks cooly, trying to play with Cable's mind. Cable shakes his head and elbows Domino soflty before looking back out into the distance.

"Don't worry grandpa, she's a grown ass woman and she'll come back. You and I both know she's got it in the bag. But...for now, how bout we dance to pass the time." Domino offers her hand. Cable nods and takes her hand before walking into the building.

________________________________________

You trudge your way up to the mansion, pushing the back door open with the weight of your body. The music getting louder, you notice it's coming from the gymnasium. You shook your head and smile. "An actual prom, amazing."

You notice a figure walking down the hall in a red tuxedo. You squint your eyes before noticing who it is. "Wade?"

The figure whips their head around before their eyes focus on you. "Holy mommy fucking shit! You're back from you mission! You're not deeeeeeeaaaaaaaaad!" Wade screams running toward you with open arms. He practically tackles you with a hug and squeezes you tight. You wrap your arms around him and wince a little, your cuts aching. Wade inhales deeply before speaking again.

"You smell awful. Jesus christ." He says matter of factly as he pushes you away to get a better look at you. "Yeah I know, believe me. I haven't had a shower in a while and had to walk all the way here. I wanna die Wade." You said with a chuckle. Wade nods before his eyes widen.

"Oh my crap baskets, you- you're-" Wade stops as a grin grows across his face, "I know something you don't know..." He sang teasingly.

Your face dropped, you already knew what he was maybe probably going to say. The light is right, the music is loud the lighting is on point. He's gonna bring up-

"Right now, poised on a dimly lit dance floor is Cable, he waits in a suit that fits a little too tight, hoping....you'll show face." Wade set the scene for you putting and arm around your shoulders. You rolled your eyes, face slightly heating up at the thought of Cable in a tight suit.

"Nathan..." you said quietly.

"Oooooooo first name basis, huh? Caliente~" Wade looks at you suggestively.

You push Wade off shaking your head, "We all know his real name you doofus. Besides as much as I wanna see him, and the rest of the team-"

"Of course." Wade interrupts, annoying you.

"But," You continue, "I'm not going to a prom like this." You gesture to yourself. Wade nods and bites his lip in thought.

"We're gonna pull a reverse Mulan." Wade said, grabbing your arm and dragging you down the hall.

"A wha!?"

________________________________________

After finishing a dance with Domino he made a B line for the wall. Crossing his arms, he leaned back on the cold brick wall. The typical 80's prom music playing as younger mutants slow dance together. Cable swayed slowly, his eyes scanning the crowd, the gears in his metal arm whiring as he pulls at his sleeve that clings to his bicep. Shifting uncomfortably and sighing Cable looks up at the clock. He shakes his head, grumbling to himself before walking out into the hallway. He runs his hands down his face and looks up at the ceiling.

"Jesus...where are you." Cable wonders to himself. Until he jumps at the sound of a voice.

"How's it hanging papa bear?"

Cable turns at break neck speed. And then he froze. His eyes roaming over you, the metal gears whirring as he does so. He almost gawks, speechless.

"Stop scaring the crap outta me." He finally says still frozen in his place.

"You first." You quip back.

Cable finally rushes over to you. He grabs your chin, moving your head to access the wounds that litter your body, he lifts your arm to expose more. After a good once over he drops everything and looks at you, his lips pursed.

"You don't hafta say it." You told him wirh a grin.

Cable shook his head and brought you in for a hug, his large arms engulfing you completely. "I missed you. Happy now?"

"Yeah..." you take a step back you breath in the sight of him and Wade wasn't kidding, that suit was just a tad too small. "Is this a rental?" You ask teasingly tugging at his sleeve.

"You know how hard it is to find clothes that fit on short notice?" Cable asks back mockingly, "What you think it looks bad?"

You watch the way the semes stretch and the fabric tighten around his bulky form, if it was any tighter it'd tear for sure.

"I didn't say that." You told him with a grin.

Cable grinned back and shook his head, "You've got nerve ill give you that." He tells you, pinching playfully at you cheek. You laugh a little and grab his hand.

"You wanna dance or are you too old for that?" You smirk. Cable matches your energy and twirls you around before leading you back into the gymnasium.

"Hey!" Wade yells, "Don't give it away at prom yould regret it for the rest of your young lives!"

You and Cable roll your eyes as the door closes behind you.

#x force #wade wilson #cable x reader #nathan summers x reader #x men #marvel mcu #deadpool #comics

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jessiquinn · 1 year

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”You are perfect”, “shut up”(reader x cable AKA Nathan Summers)

I wrote this in 2022 or something, I’m kinda proud of it, even though it’s pretty cringe, but I DON’T CARE. CRINGE WITH ME.

Stubborn injured reader x cable (Nathan Summers) one-shot

Warnings:

1-injury, details. 2-cringe. 3-self harm?? 4-magic use. 5-bad writing and editing. 6-self hate. 7-everything.

---------------

You got injured in the last mission but decided on hiding it from everyone, especially Cable... he likes to overreact...

well... it was a long cut on the arm but I can fix it on my own, I don't want them to think I'm weaker than they already think.

it hurts I'm not gonna lie... especially that it's open... fucking hell Acting like there's nothing wrong, "It's strange that you didn't get hurt today, usually, you always get hit" Domino teasing you, "I'm learning," is all you said, "Great because it's about time we arrive in the next mission" looking ahead What.. next mission!! I didn't know about that... shit! everyone got to their position, trying to look fine, "You know what to do, exactly like last time" Cable said looking at every single one of us, “be careful” giving you a glance. heading to your position in the field let's do this! so far everything went well, shooting everything and everyone I see... I need to be good enough for them alright! I can't be weak! shooting the enemy with a strong blast killing 5 at once, "Good shot" Cable said (on the earpiece) Feeling proud of yourself that you didn't notice someone sneaking at you, "dumb bitch" turning around to see one of the enemies that still remains... shit. pointing his gun at you. Fuck... "Throw your earpiece or I'll shoot" he threatened, I did just that, and he smirked. lowering his gun and walking closer to you. what the fuck is happening...

You understood what happened when he touched your thigh... about to attack him "Na, do that and I'll shoot" He kept touching getting higher. what am I supposed to do... I don't know, I am really weak.. see! I can't be alone for 5 seconds without getting hurt! I feel hurt... he took the earpiece from the ground, finally! took the chance and attacked him to the ground, he was strong but the adrenaline rushed through my veins. I can't lose!! finally knocking him out, just now noticing the cut he made on my thigh. so fucking convenient! taking the earpiece "I repeat, back to the plane" Cable said. running there, thankfully it wasn't that deep. the one on my arm tho... it's a different story. "took you long enough,-" cutting her "Shut it!" you said, she was surprised. Domino’s nice to everyone but to me, she defiantly deserved that! walking past everyone to the plane. Deadpool sat next to you, this is weird. "pst... pstt" looking at him, "Y/n... I'm sorry I couldn't reach you in time" he said feeling extremely bad. "what are you talking about" Looking at him, his face turned into a sad frown. "I saw what happened, I couldn't reach you, I’m sorry", "well you saw wrong because nothing happened, plus even if it happened... it's not your fault" looking at the window. he kept quiet then, "If you ever want to talk about it.. you can come to me" why does he care so much... "I... sure.. thanks Wade" the truth is he always had a soft spot for you, after you left running he shot him in the crouch just to make sure... he'll die... slowly you slept for the rest of the flight, finally arrived, heading straight to your bedroom, closing the door behind you, Sigh... finally.. peace and quiet. going to the mirror revealing the cut that had become worse than before... it might need stitches. everyone here has self-healing but me, god.. why did you make me this weak... if I go to the infirmary they'll all know that I got injured for the millionth time.

I got an idea!! what about that magic book we have in the library, it must have a spell in it to fix this mess. going to the library, searching for the book. it was well hidden but I got it, no one knows about this book but me, well.. as far as I know.

sprinting to your room before anyone notices you, "Yn," turning to see its cable, "hi..." He's always scary... he's smart and perfect. he's perfect for a leader... "5 minutes, in the living room" serious as always.

going back to your room and locking the door... I'm not a magician but I'll try.

searching for a spell that will heal my injuries, or at least cover them well enough that I can last for a couple of missions. there's one here... "esaelp dnuow diputs ym Lael!!" the room started to get messy but my wound started to disappear!!!

after a couple of minutes of healing, I looked at my injury... it's not there anymore, running to the meeting... The thing is... it's too good to be true.. right? Next day I felt great pain, coughing... my forehead is burning. on top Of that we have a mission today. How am I going to hide this from them? I'm going to be kicked out of the team, For sure... nobody wants a burden after all... I made it worse than it is.

inspecting the injury, it looks purple. reading through the book again... shit! (when used be cautious of your intention, if it was spoiled you will be punished) reading more (the only way to solve the curse is by doing your fear)

skip "Everyone get ready, 9 we will move" cable was a cold man, he always scared me but I don't want to disappoint him... bandaging the wound with anything I got, and taking fever pills. everything felt like a fever dream. while waiting for the others to arrive, cable was there... he was fixing something... focused on what he was doing that you didn't notice that he was looking at you now. he's perfect... like always. unlike me... lost in thought you didn't notice he was walking closer to you. "Yn" He raises your chin to make you look at him. looking into your eyes, almost like reading my soul. "Are you alright?" concerned about me, is this one of the spells jokes? "Yn," he said again, "is everything alright? you look pale"

"I.." suddenly hearing some whistling, it's Wade "DAMN we're late for 5 minutes and this happens wow," Deadpool says while Domino smirks he got off, "let's go" serious like always, I'm sure what happened was a hallucination. my fever is getting worse... after arriving and everyone going to their positions, trying to do your job but your vision is getting worse... 5... I killed 5 so far. 2 are standing... "Yn! Kill them NOW," looking at them, trying to point. thankfully you killed them. sitting on the floor, more like falling on it. your breathing is unstable...this is too much... losing my vision too. "Yn, we need you, Move!"... no response so much pain... should I just end this pain myself or wait for anyone to do it for me, anything would be better than this torture. "Yn! Respond!" does he only know my name or something? fuck this shit! without a thought you started pointing the gun at your head, what the fuck am I doing! is the spell responsible? but overall I can’t stop... maybe... it will be for the best... slowly pulling the trigge-, tackled on the floor. "YN! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU" Cable said furious, looking at him clueless.. your head hurting. he took you immediately, carrying you to the plane. everyone asked what happened but he kept quiet, kicking everyone out. taking off your clothes to check for injuries to find unexpected, cuts and deep wounds.

this is not new! this is obviously old, “What the actual fuck yn, why would you hide something like that!” feeling hurt, do they not trust me? he fixed all your wounds and waited for you to wake up, you had lots of explaining to do. --- "I don't want to disappoint you..." "You never disappoint me Yn" "You are perfect, I don't deserve your care" "Shut the fuck up" Happy dumb ending.

---

as I said, I’m sorry for this cringe.

if you have any tips for me please don’t hesitate to tell me!

please reblog 💜

Thank you for reading

#marvel #deadpool 2 #deadpool #cable #nathan summers #xreader #cable x reader #oneshot #fanfic #short #injured reader #stubborn reader

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salt-is-a-terrible-currency · 9 months

Text

Zealot

Written for day 26 of the Narcos fandom smut alphabet over on @narcosfandomdiscord

Fandom: Narcos, Deadpool movieverse

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Words: 3 991 (this one really got a life of its own)

Pairing: Javier x f!reader, Nathan 'Cable' Summers x f!reader

Prompt: zeal

Warnings: verbal fight, threats of gun violence, one night stand, rough sex, biting, some dirty talk, makeup sex

Tagging: @futurewife

It's the last prompt and I figured go big or go home. Then this monstrosity happened.

"Fuck you," you snap. Javier's face twitches but he doesn't respond, instead leaning back against the wall out on your patio for a second before finally nodding. You follow him back inside the house, past the kitchen that’s still a mess from your dinner that he interrupted by inviting himself over, and into the hallway where he grabs his jacket and shrugs it on. As he steps outside, you decide to get another kick in for good measure:

"Show up at my house again and I'll shoot you," you say, then slam the door shut in his face.

⁂

You already know you look good, especially tonight, but the reactions you get when stepping into the bar less than 24 hours after your blow-up with Javier is still an ego boost you sorely needed. A group of regulars throw glances in your direction, one of them even leaning out of his seat to get a better look at you as you saunter past and head for the row of high chairs facing the desk. With a glass of overly sweet wine in your hand, you glance around the bar. There’s no lack of men here tonight, though most of them you cross off the list immediately. Some of them for being married, and others for being old enough to be your grandfather. You order a second glass of wine and return to weighing your options.

Just as you’re considering who to sidle up to - Benicio Moreno or Marcus Ruiz - a figure appears in the open door. He’s in heavy boots, some sort of utility pants with countless pockets and a thick belt, a gray t-shirt fitted so snugly that if the temperature were to drop by even a few degrees you’re certain you’d be able to see his nipples. You bite back a giggle at the thought. Thick arms- the left one with marred and partially tattooed skin - and a buzzcut in need of a touch-up. A few heads turn the man’s way as he enters but nothing like when you did. You feel like you’ve hit the jackpot. The stranger’s from out of town, he has to be, and there’s barely any women at the bar tonight. You wait for him to pull out another chair, two seats to your right, and listen as he places his order in a gruff voice. It’s unladylike to be desperate, your mother and grandmother both told you as much, so you sip your wine and pretend not to notice his presence. Five more seconds, you think to yourself as you down the last of your second glass, then I’ll introduce my-

"What are you having?" A gruff voice interrupts. You jump, startled to find that the man has shifted to the seat next to you.

"White wine," you answer, quickly recovering to flash a smile at him. They only have the one kind and it's not very good, but it's cheap and it does the job. Now that the man’s up close, you get a better look at him. He’s got a sharp jaw with a hint of stubble on it, a faint scar at the back of his right cheek and…and, you realize, there’s something about his left eye. Like it’s a different shade from his right. Not different enough to be blatantly obvious but here, up close, you can tell they’re not identical. He flags the bartender down to refill your glass and you raise it to his in a silent toast.

"What's your name, stranger?" you ask. He leans forward on the desk, face turned to you.

"I'm Nathan." Now that you’re not startled by him speaking, the sound of his voice goes straight to your core. It’s a voice you can imagine growling praise as you suck his soul out through his dick. You uncross your legs and lean forward a little.

"You new to town, Nathan?" You’re pretty damn sure of the answer but it doesn’t hurt to double-check. It’s just a glance but you catch it: his eyes dropping to your cleavage before meeting your gaze again.

"I've been to the area before, but not Laredo,” he explains. “Got hired for a job, finished early so I figured I'd take a night of rest before starting the drive back." You don’t realize how much the wine has affected you until you hear yourself answer him:

"Well, Nathan, I have to tell you I don't foresee your night being very restful." What the hell did I just say? Nathan, to your relief, doesn’t take offense. He chuckles, low and raspy, then leans in close to your ear. You’re already feeling faint and when his hand lands at your thigh your eyes flutter shut.

"Your place or mine?" he asks.

⁂

The way his lips move against you is a complete opposite compared to Javier’s.

Nathan tears the dress from your body. It joins his discarded pants and t-shirt at the threshold to your bedroom. He falls back against the headboard, pulls you on top of him with your back to his scarred and tattooed chest, then reaches under the backs of your thighs so that your legs bend at the knee.

“Go on, sweetheart” he says, nipping at your jawline, “Get me inside you.” He knows you’re wet enough to take him, ran his fingers along the seat of your soaked panties while you were fumbling to unlock the front door. You do as he says, wrapping your fingers around his cock and taking note of how he growls as you notch him to your opening. With a shift of your hips, he disappears into you. He gives you but a split second to adjust before he moves. Your whole body jolts as Nathan pounds into you, making sure you can feel every last bit of him. Every curve and dip, down to the last vein of his cock. His hands grasp your legs in a vice-like grip. His hot breath at the back of your head sends chills through your body. A stark contrast to your skin which feels on fire, sweat running down your brow and stinging your eyes. Your breathing coming out in bursts with each punch of his cock into your cunt. The way he works your body has you trembling, the first whispers of your climax building in your core like a knot winding itself tighter and tighter. When it bursts, your back arches and you sob his name like it’s a prayer. Nathan doesn’t let up.

“Gorgeous girl,” he drawls, “The things I’ll do to you.” He slams into you another one, two, three times before tensing like bowstring and snarling like a beast unhinged. His hands keep you there as rope after rope of cum gushes into you. You feel dizzy, teetering on the edge of a giggle.

Nathan releases your legs and you tip back against his broad, sweaty chest. His lips press to yours in a hungry kiss which you blindly reciprocate, little sparks of electricity still running along your skin from just the memory of his cock inside you. You whine as his lips disappear but soon something else taps against your mouth. You open your eyes, finding two fingers held in front of you.

“Suck them,” he commands, bumping the tips against your lips, “Want you to get them wet like they’d been in that tight little pussy of yours.” You find his darkened eyes, see the lust in them. Feeling devious, you take only the tips of his fingers into your mouth and bite. Not enough to draw blood but enough that he hisses a curse under his breath. You turn to face him, getting on your hands and knees. Nathan’s chest reverberates with a growl.

“What’re you playing at, sweetheart?” Inching closer, you bite your lower lip at him. He’s still got his fingers up and you stick your tongue out, licking where previously you nipped.

“I’m not playing at anything,” you say innocently. Nathan’s lips twist into a grin. You take his fingers as deep as you can, stopping just short of gagging, and seal your lips tightly around them to give one long, firm suck. A slight tickle at your shoulder tells you that he’s letting his free hand wander. It brushes across your collarbones, lightly presses at the hollow of your throat, then slides down to cup your breast. Gentle at first, then harder as you withdraw from his fingers - a string of saliva prolonging the contact between you.

“That wet enough?” you ask, again feigning innocence. His face twists into something animalistic, and as it does he twists your nipple. You whine, equal parts pain and pleasure coursing through you.

“On your back, sweetheart.” His tattooed arm wraps around you, helps guide you through the abrupt change in position, while he uses the other to prop himself up. Your back hits the mattress, a cold spot beneath your buttcheek that must be from where his cum has leaked out of your throbbing cunt. Nathan’s scruff chafes your chin as he pries your lips apart with his tongue, licking at the roof of your mouth until your mind is buzzing with nothing but thoughts of how it would feel to have him to that between your legs. As if he’s read your thoughts, Nathan retreats from your lips. He crawls down the length of you, kissing down your chest, lingering briefly at your sensitive breasts before moving down to your belly button where he also presses his lips. His mouth is hot on your skin, forcing your already unsteady breathing into nothing but shallow rasps of air. He pauses as he reaches the spot between your parted legs. You can only see the top of his head, his eyes turned to your exposed sex. Then you feel it. His tongue moving along your seam in methodical, determined movements. You cry out, your hips jolting up only for his hands to grab and press you back down so that he can continue without interruptions. Even though the room is practically a sauna at this point, even though your skin feels on fire, you shiver at the feeling of his mouth on your cunt. He brings a hand up, spreading your folds open for his tongue to push inside.

“Nate…” you rasp. He hums into you at the same as his thumb swipes across your aching clit and again you try to buck up against him but again he stops you. His hand cracks against the inside of your thigh, setting off another ripple of heat between your legs, and you take the slap for the warning it is. Determined to stay put, you reach down to his shoulders and hold on. Just the feel of his muscles rippling beneath your hands is enough to make your eyes roll back in your head. His hand finds its way back between your legs to continue the ministrations. There’s nothing soft about how he circles it, but neither is he adding enough pressure for you to cum. Your nails dig ever deeper into his skin with each thrust of his tongue, certain that he’ll have marks in the morning to match the deep bruises from his tight grip on your hips, and at the moment you couldn’t care less. Nathan pulls back, the loss of his tongue inside you leaving empty and aching. But only for a brief moment. He seals his lips around your clit, hands on your inner thighs keep you spread wide, and sucks. The orgasm comes seemingly out of nowhere, your whole body tensing and then relaxing in an instant as wave after wave of bone-melting heat overtakes you. You feel like you’re floating, like you can see stars.

From the corner of your eye, you see Nathan rise onto his knees and wipe his mouth. Then he disappears from view but the shift of the mattress and his heavy groan tells you that he’s laid down next to you. Mind and body still buzzing, you scoot closer until you’re skin to skin and seek him out with a kiss on his shoulder. He meets you in one, lips to lips, but when he tries for a second you slip further down his body to instead suck at the spot where his tattooed pec transitions into unmarked skin. He tastes of salt and cigarette smoke. You go even lower, finding his happy trail and burying your nose in it while smothering a giggle. A kiss to his left hipbone, then to his right, and you find yourself face to face with his once again erect cock. You peer up at Nathan, bat your eyelashes.

“Want to have a taste, sweetheart?” he asks, thrusting forward to let the reddened tip of his cock brush against your lips. You smile at him, dazed, and let your jaws fall open in invitation. He chuckles darkly, runs his cock along your lower lip. You surge forward, taking him in your mouth and squeezing him at the root with your fist like you’ve noticed many men enjoy. Based on the obscene moan that escapes him, Nathan is no different. You begin to bob along his length, coating him with as much saliva as you can - in addition to your own slick still clinging to him from before - to ease your way and keeping your fist tightly locked around the base of him. When he shifts his hips, you dig the nails of your left hand into his thigh. Warning him like he did you. He huffs but his hips do sink back against the mattress and you smile around his length. Another couple of bobs and you pull back for a breath of air, sliding your fist right below the head and rubbing the slit in it with the pad of your thumb.

“Nate,” you coo at him. “Need you to fuck my throat.” Immediately, work hardened fingers move down and grasp at the back of your head to keep you still, your head in the right angle, as he begins to thrust savagely into you. The first stroke is enough to make you gag, saliva running from the corners of your mouth and staining the bedlinen even further. With each thrust, your nose hits the bush of dark hair between his legs. You gag and sputter, legs trembling with the effort not to choke around him. It’s a lot, and at the same time there’s nothing like the kick you get from hearing Nathan’s pained groans as he fucks into you. When he tenses, the back and forth motion of his hips ceasing, you press forward from your current position at his tip and once more bury your face in the dark patch of hair - nuzzling it for good measure. Nathan gives up an inhuman sound. He floods your mouth, the taste of salt erupting at the back of your tongue. His short-trimmed nails scrape over your skull. Not holding you there anymore, just touching. When you’re content that there’s no more to receive, you pull away with a wet sound and crawl further up into bed to once again face him. Nathan flashes a lopsided grin.

“I don’t know which idiot pissed you off and made you go to the bar tonight,” he says, “but his stupidity is my luck.”

⁂

You ogle Nathan as he pulls his jacket back on in your hallway, the scent of your soap clinging to his skin. ‘I smell like a girl’, he gruffed and you replied, cheek-in-tongue: ‘Yeah, you do. Because you slept with one’. He chuckled at that. You open the door, go to walk him to his car but stop in your tracks at the sight of something unexpected. Someone unexpected. Javier is walking up your driveway, hands in his pockets and looking every bit as stone faced as last time you saw him. First, you’re shocked. Then, you’re pissed. You cross your arms over your chest.

“What are you doing here?” you demand. Javier, catching onto the fact that you’re outside,

lifts his gaze to you, goes to speak but stops. Stares. Right past your shoulder. Next to you, Nathan steps into the late morning sun. He too stops as he notices the new arrival and the tension in the air.

"This your husband or something?" he asks you, brow furrowed.

"No,” you say loudly, “this is a piece of shit who I told never to show up at my doorstep again." Javier’s whole face scrunches up in that way it does when you know he’s trying very hard not to say something he’ll regret. After a beat of silence, his gaze flits from you to Nathan.

"Do you mind giving us a moment?" Javier asks. Your eyebrows jump up at that. You hadn’t expected something so polite from him. Nathan turns to you.

"He's not going to hit you or some shit, is he?" You shake your head. Even if Javier ever got the idea of laying hands on you, you’re close enough with his dad that you’re confident the younger Peña would regret it for the rest of his life. Nathan throws his hands up.

"Alright then, I'm leaving," he announces, before turning to you and - with a grin - adding: “I had fun.” You return the smirk but say nothing. No sooner has Nathan closed the car door than Javier is striding toward you, arms crossed.

“What was that about, hm?” he demands as Nathan pulls out of the driveway. Guess the politeness was just for show. You sigh.

“I told you to fuck off, Javier.” You turn and head back inside, Javier hot on your heels.

“I’m sorry,” he says, pulling the door closed behind him. “Alright? I’m sorry I said your job doesn’t matter.” You stop, turn to face him. Now that he’s up close you can tell he looks like shit. There’s bags under his eyes, hair more ruffled than usual, and he reeks of cigarettes. He told you he’d quit last month. Something within you melts at the state of him. Javier sighs.

“I’d had a shit week and when you blew me off to work late I got upset,” he explains. “Shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” You mull over his apology. It’s not like the two of you are in a relationship, both of you are free to sleep with whoever, though more often than not you turn to each other for sex. You know he’s seen others when you were out of town, just like you’ve seen others. It’s just because you know each other, are comfortable with each other’s preferences in bed and confident in the fact that you’ll have a good time together.

“I’m not your girlfriend, Javi, you can’t demand my time like that again. And you certainly can’t get upset about me sleeping with someone else when I know for a fact you fucked Marianne Jamison last month when I was visiting family.” His face twitches.

“I know,” he says. “I was an asshole and I’ll make it up to you.” The last bit of anger melts away and you let your arms fall back to your sides.

“When?” you ask. Javier’s face changes, from the beaten down look into something you’re more used to seeing. Hunger. He doesn’t waste any time before he presses his mouth to yours. His kiss is dominating, showing you who is in control this time. And when he presses his tongue past the seam of your lips, your whole body melts to him like an ice cream cone in the Texas sun, readily submitting to him. There’s that buzz in your head again. And with it the feeling of pleasant warmth gathering between your legs. You barely realize that he’s moving you until your backside hits something and your eyes fly open, finding yourself in the kitchen with your back against the edge of the counter. Javier’s lips move lower, seeking out the mounds of your breasts. His fingers hook into the front of your tanktop, tugging at it to expose more for him to mouth at. Switching between gentle kisses and urgent sucking, it doesn’t take long before your nipples are practically aching from the ministrations. His hands seem to be covering every part of your body, all at once. His touch feels hot even with your tanktop and flimsy shorts preventing him from going fully skin to skin. He’s so fucking clever with his hands, the slightest touch of those rough fingers enough to stir the desire in the pit of your belly. He’s taken the time to learn how to get your body to respond to him, how to coax a climax out of you. It was one of the things you first fell for. Not in a romantic way, but in a way that made you feel safe. Lots of guys would’ve been happy to get their fill and then leave. Not Javier. For him, your pleasure is as important as his own and when he discovered how you reacted to a press, a brush, a pinch he took note. He’s a zealot, the map to your pleasure his manifesto, his sacred text. The sparks left behind by each kiss, each touch, sends waves of joy running down your spine. You reach out to palm his bulge, feel him twitch beneath your hand. He pulls your shorts down, finds you bare beneath them. As well as the bruises left behind by Nathan. For a moment, Javier stills. You hold your breath, waiting for him to come back to the present. Javier shakes his head, growls. Then he surges forward, covering the bruised with his own hands and grinding his still denim clad bulge against your exposed core. The texture of it makes it almost painful, but only almost. You try to ride against the seam, try to get yourself off before he can decide that he wants to drag things out. Just as you think you’re reaching that peak, Javier’s hands lock around your forearms.

“Turn for me,” he orders. With a whimper, you do as you’re told. To your surprise, Javier wastes no more time teasing. He simply bends you over the kitchen counter, and slams himself in.

You’d thought Nathan fucked you with zeal, which he did. But it’s nothing compared to what Javier is doing now. It’s as if he’s trying to consume you, or else crawl under your skin and become joined together forever. He finds your sweet spots, paying attention to them in turn. First, he grabs the back of your neck - the tips of his fingers lightly pressing until you moan for him. Then down your spine before sweeping around to grab at your hip bone and rubbing circles into it. Back up your front to cup first your left breast and then your right, giving each a squeeze. But it’s when he reaches down between your legs that the heat between your legs blossoms into something more. You jump at the first press of his thumb at your clit. Javier presses himself even closer to you then, locking you in between him and the counter. A few seconds of his digits swirling around your bud is all you need and then you’re falling apart. You scramble to find purchase against the counter, legs shaking - nearly caving - as he keeps thrusting into you. You hear the familiar sound of a groan, feel him grow taller between you as if he’s getting up on his toes and then he bursts inside you. Rope after rope of cum paints your inner walls, fills you to the brim. Javier doubles over, his chest pressed to your back.

“What do you think?” he breathes, his hips still shifting in a barely discernible pattern. “Am I forgiven yet?” You twist your head, press a kiss to full lips.

“Not yet,” you answer, equally out of breath. “But you’ll get there.”

#nffalphabet #javier peña fic #nathan cable summers fic #javier peña x f!reader #nathan cable summers x f!reader #narcos fic #deadpool movieverse fic

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master-sass-blast · 1 year

Text

S'mores for Two.

Happy New Year, everybody!

Summary: The students at Xavier's get shipped out for an educational, late-Summer/early-Autumn weekend camping trip! You and Piotr go along to help supervise. Shenanigans ensue.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, Ellie Phimister x Yukio, and Alexandra Rasputin x Nikolai Rasputin.

Rating: T for mild spice and Wade being Wade.

Word count: 5.8k.

Set after "Base Chemical Desire."

Your knee bounces up and down as the SUV rumbles over yet another pothole. “Good fucking God, can we please just be at the cabin already?”

“Mne zhal, myshka,” your husband apologizes. He steers the car around another bump in the road, then turns when a brown wooden sign with yellow letters indicates the cabins are to the left. “We should be there any minute now.”

You cross your legs harder and do your best not to squirm. “Not any minute soon enough. Baby’s using my bladder as a beanbag chair.”

Piotr croons sympathetically, then drives the car around another bend bracketed by dense thickets of trees and ground cover—

And then, mercifully, the cabin comes into view.

“Oh thank fuck.” You undo your seatbelt as your husband parks in front of the cabin –the car’s going slow enough that there’s no safety risk—then shove your door open before he even has the keys out of the ignition. Nearly pissed my fucking pants, holy shit—

“Good morning, campers!”

You grit your teeth when your beloved brother in spirit slings an arm around your shoulders –thus preventing you from reaching the porcelain nepenthe. “Wade—”

The merc with a mouth, however, is blissfully unaware of your bladder’s plight. He inhales deeply, the eyes on his mask widening before going back to normal size. “Ah, nature. Gotta love the smell of squirrel shit in the morning!”

Ellie grimaces as she gets out of the van ferrying most of the teens; the Institute’s high school class and a few chaperones had trekked out to upstate New York campgrounds for a long weekend school retreat in early September. “Don’t be gross, Douchepool.”

“Excuse me, Negasonic Knuckles; gross is what I do best! That, and milking my pro—”

Your husband’s car door slams with unnecessary force. “Wade.”

You growl, then shove Wade’s arm off you. “Wade—”

“What, no love for lil ol’ me?”

“I do love you, but if you don’t get out of my way, I am going to piss in your sleeping bag. Possibly within the next two minutes.”

Wade hops to the side and gestures to the cabin door with a flourish. “By all means, madam and passenger.”

Piotr takes the steps to the front porch two at a time, keys already in hand. “Hang on, myshka. Just one moment.”

…

You do, miraculously, make it to the bathroom in time.

You let out a guttural sigh of relief as you exit the commode (having flushed and washed your hands, of course), rubbing one hand over your swollen belly. “That’s so much fucking better.”

“Language, dorogoy.”

“You try staying sane when you have a lil’ flesh bell pepper sitting on your bladder,” you grumble.

Piotr chuckles, good-natured, then holds one arm out to you. He holds you against his chest, rubbing your back soothingly when you lean against him. “I know. You are doing so well, moya lyubov’. I am so proud of you.”

You press your face against his chest. A lump rises in your throat, and you find yourself blinking back tears. “Thank you.”

“You are so strong.” He kisses the top of your head. “So incredible.”

“You’re gonna make me cry, Piotr,” you say with a soft, watery laugh. You pat his chest when he chuckles with you, then tip your head back and pucker your lips for a kiss. “Love you.”

He dips his head and presses his lips against yours. “Ya tebya lyublyu.” He breaks the kiss, lifting his head when he hears some squabbling outside, then sighs and pats your back. “Come on. We should supervise young ones.”

…

The squabbling, it turns out, is Kitty and Ellie arguing over how to arrange the tents.

“You need to place them on elevated ground!” Ellie snaps, nose scrunched up with ire. “That way if it rains, we don’t get a massive-ass puddle underneath the tents!”

“Yeah, except your spot is, like, way too close to the road!” Kitty huffs, putting her hands on her hips. “Some pervert could hide in the bushes and watch us sleep! Or a drunk could lose control of his car and drive right through us!”

Russell glances between the two teens, then over at Piotr and you with a pinched expression. “People aren’t going to hide in the bushes to watch us, right?”

Nikolai –who came along to help with food and chaperoning—answers before his son can. He chuckles, pointing to his wife with his thumb. “I think Alexandra has us covered.”

Alex looks up as she sets a massive, matte black duffel bag on the ground (which rattles suspiciously, as though she has an entire armory of guns and ammunition inside). She looks to her husband, then to Russell, then shrugs. “I have security covered.” She drops another duffel bag onto the ground (this one lands with a soft whump), then gestures to her three dogs. “Noise alert system.” She stops to bring Misty –her young, excitable, gray and white Pitbull—to heel, then nudges the suspicious duffle bag with the toe of her boot. “Pervert removal devices—”

Piotr sighs. “Mama.”

She chatters at him in Russian, then reaches into the van for another bag and withdraws a bag of mini-marshmallows and a plastic air-powered rifle. “…And incentivizing for stubborn teenagers.”

Nikolai chuckles, shaking his head, then carries a cooler into the cabin.

“Since when,” Kitty pipes up, now distracted from her argument with Ellie, “do any of us need incentivizing?”

Alex shrugs, smirking in good humor. “Many possibilities. Perhaps getting out of bed in the morning.” She pauses to scoop up her tawny Chihuahua, Butters, into her arm, then grabs both her duffel bags and strides towards the cabin.

You chuckle at Kitty’s –as well as the other teens’—disgruntled expressions, then grab a few pillows and carry them into the cabin as well.

…

The tents wind up going between Ellie and Kitty’s suggested spots.

“Alright –enough!” Alex strides over, snatches the tent back up when the two teens get into a tug of war over it, then gives each of them a stern look. “We compromise –halfway between each spot. The incline is still sufficient to prevent flooding, but it’s also a safe distance away from the road. Khorosho?” She nods when both girls mutter their assent, then sets the tent bag in the newly selected spot. “Let’s get to work.”

…

Setting up tents with a group of teenagers that’ve been cooped up in vans for a couple hours and Wade is, shall we say, not an easy task.

Fortunately, due to your “carry on,” you are excused from all menial labor tasks you don’t want to partake in and thus dub yourself “Supreme Supervisor,” set up a camp chair near the cabin, and watch the chaos unfold.

In a testament to Alex and Piotr’s chaos-wrangling skills, though; The cluster of tents –two for the boys, two for the girls—are almost completely erected in under an hour.

“I didn’t know tents came in giant size,” Wade remarks as he steps back to admire the tent –which, since it can hold twelve people, is truly gargantuan. “Guess we gotta go big for the ol’ Ruskie, eh?”

“The big man gets to stay in the cabin,” you pipe up from your throne. “As the official foot massager.” You wink at Piotr when he smirks and shakes his head, then continue. “The tents are big to fit multiple people, and so everyone can stand up inside.”

“Colossus would, like, still probably have to duck,” Kitty comments as she carries her duffels into one of the girls’ tents. She sticks her head out the front flap moments later. “Can I inflate my air mattress in the cabin?”

“‘Air mattress?’” Ellie squawks, nose scrunched up in indignation. “You hauled an air mattress and a pump all the way out here?”

“It has a built-in motor. I just need to plug it in,” Kitty fires back, sticking her tongue out when Ellie rolls her eyes. “I’m not sleeping on the ground! It’s bad for your back!”

“Yeah, that’s why you use a bed roll, Princess.”

Kitty tosses her hair with a huff. “Or an air mattress, purist.”

“What, so the rest of us have to walk around your bulky inflatable bed just to take a midnight shit—”

“I can take a corner so I’m out of the way, you fucking gatekeeper—”

“Language, both of you,” Piotr interjects, “and enough.” He fixes them both with a stern look, hands on his hips, then resumes speaking when both girls mutter their apologies for arguing. “Kitty, you may inflate your mattress inside, but please be considerate when choosing spot in tent. Other campers need space as well.”

“Naturally,” she says as she hauls the carry bag for her air mattress out of the tent. “I was already going to do that.”

Ellie rolls her eyes again. “High maintenance.”

Kitty sticks her tongue out at the younger girl. “Asshole.”

“I think Mr. Rasputin already said ‘enough,’” you pipe up. You cross your arms over your chest and fix both girls with a steely stare. “Any more of this, and you two are on permanent kitchen duty. Understand?”

The two girls deflate slightly and mutter, “Yes, Mrs. Rasputin,” in unison.

“Glad to hear it.” You watch as Kitty heads inside whilst Ellie steps in to help Alex get the last tent up –they have to work with Wade, so it’s anyone’s game as to who will “win”—then wince as the slowly setting sun slips through the tree canopies and hits you directly in the eyes. And here I was hoping to keep my retinas in pristine condition. You shade your eyes with your hand, then look around for your sunglasses. I just had them in my hand, where the fuck did they –ah.

They’re on the ground next to your chair. They must’ve fallen out of the little built in cup holder on the chair’s arm.

You contemplate leaning over to pick them up –then grin when a better option occurs to you. “Hey, baby? Can you get my sunglasses for me?”

“Konechno.” Piotr steps around from the back of a tent –he’d decided to handle hammering in the stakes since most of the boys had started tossing around the mallet like a football—then stops and frowns when he spies your spectacles next to your chair. “Myshka –they are right there.”

You grin impishly when he points to the spot next to your chair. “I know. Can you grab them for me?”

Piotr tucks his tongue in his cheek. A slow smile tugs at his lips. “They are right next to you.”

“I can’t pick them up.”

“You cannot pick them up?”

“They’re too heavy.” You giggle when Piotr rolls his eyes –good natured, of course—then gesture to the sunglasses helplessly. “Please?”

He grins, shakes his head, then ambles over to your chair. He grunts slightly as he stoops to pick up your glasses, then brushes them off before carefully placing them on your face. “Better?”

“Immensely.” You angle your head up for a kiss, humming happily when your husband presses his lips against yours. “Thank you.”

“Konechno –anytime, myshka.”

You waggle your eyebrows at the sarcasm in his tone, then giggle when he grins and shakes his head again.

…

Dinner is not hotdogs roasted over a campfire –much to many of the campers’ disappointment.

“Is not good to have hotdogs every night,” Piotr reasons when the teens protest. “Balanced diet is best.”

“Says you,” Wade fires back, ever the one to stir up chaos. “I happen to know that the intestinal tract can take about four straight days of wieners before a major revolt.”

Your husband sighs, longsuffering. “Wade—”

“And I didn’t even necessarily eat all of them to find that out.”

“Wade.”

Nathan puts an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders when the teens start laughing –or, in some cases, groaning. “Easy, gorgeous.”

So, no, dinner is not hotdogs; Nikolai oversees it, and has the teens make foil pouches filled with potato chunks, diced vegetables, and pieces of ham steak (already cooked, of course, though Kitty uses baked chicken), then place the pouches around the campfire as an experiment on cooking with indirect heat.

You get a similar meal –but prepared in the kitchen in the cabin, due to Piotr’s concern about everything being cooked thoroughly for you.

Hey, you’re not complaining. You get to lounge by the fire while your husband makes you dinner. What’s not to love!

You tip your head back to kiss his cheek when he brings you your plate. “Thank you, honey.”

You do, however, partake in making smores with everyone else. Perhaps a bit too… vigorously.

“Myshka,” Piotr says when you break a graham cracker for your fourth s’more. “Do not make yourself sick, please.”

“Hey!” You protest as you place a piece of chocolate onto one graham cracker. “I’m eating for two! That means I gotta multiply everything by two. So, if a normal serving of s’mores is two, then I need to eat four.”

Piotr shakes his head while everyone else chuckles. “I do not think that is how this works, dorogoy.”

“Sure it is. Two times two is four.” You grin when everyone laughs again. “I did pass elementary math, Piotr.”

Your husband sighs, shakes his head –then snatches the marshmallow bag out of your lap once you bite into your fourth smore.

You squawk around a mouthful of marshmallow goop, melted chocolate, and crumbling graham cracker. “Hey!”

He hands the bag off to the nearest student. “Keep this away from Mrs. Rasputin, please.”

“What is this mutiny?” You give your husband a stink eye –though it’s worth the loss of marshmallows, what with how the students are delighted to partake in your husband’s usurpation—then jab him in the shoulder with your index finger. “Just for that, buster, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

…

The following morning goes as such: wake up at eight, breakfast (which is overseen by Nikolai again), then getting dressed and cleaned up before going on a hike for the purpose of plant identification, observing flora and fauna in their natural habitat, and ending at a field for a nature-scape drawing session with Piotr.

You don’t get to go on the hike, per Doctor Reid’s suggestion to reduce the strain on your body during your pregnancy. You hang back at the cabin with Nikolai and Alex, basking in the sun and enjoying the tranquility of the wilderness around you.

“Ah, there you are, ptitsa.”

You look up with a smile as your mother-in-law joins you on the cabin’s porch. “Hey. How was sleeping in the tent?”

Alex shrugs as she leans against the porch railing. “Fine. Girls were a bit wound up before bed, but they settled well enough.”

“No further fighting between Ellie and Kitty?”

“Hm.” Alex smirks and lifts one eyebrow. “Storm and I decided it would be best to separate them into different tents. Prevent further disagreements.”

“Ah.” You nod in agreement. “Probably for the best.”

“Do they usually fight like this?”

“Usually, yes,” you say, laughing slightly. “They’re two very different fish in the same pond –not to mention they’re both teenage girls.”

She chuckles and shrugs, then nods to you. “How are you?”

“I’m alright,” you answer honestly. “A bit tired.”

“Eh, comes with territory. Have they started moving yet?”

“Not yet.” You rub your swollen stomach with one hand, smiling fondly. “Dr. Reid thinks it’ll be a few weeks before I feel any movement, since this is my first viable pregnancy.”

Alex nods along. “That’s usually the case.” She smiles faintly, gaze going distant with nostalgic reflection. “Second babies, not so much. Mikhail started moving four months in.”

“Wow,” you chuckle. “So it’s been like that from the very start with him, huh.”

She grins. “That it has.”

The two of you laugh, then lapse into comfortable silence –save for the sounds of the woods around you—after a few moments.

You keep rubbing your belly, drifting further away into rumination.

It’s almost hard to believe you’re going to be a parent in a few months. After all the trying and failing, it’s like a dream come true. After your childhood, after how hard you had to work to recover from everything your parents did to you…

Alex narrows her eyes when she notices the tension in your face. “Something wrong?”

“Just… thinking about my parents,” you answer distractedly. Without thinking about it, you curl both your arms around your stomach. They’ll never hurt you. They’ll never even touch you. I promise.

As though she can sense your thoughts, Alex sighs and takes a seat next to you on the porch swing. “They’ll never get close to your children,” she assures you. “Or you. Never again.” She puts one arm around you and rubs your shoulder when you lean against her. “There’s an entire army of people who’ll see to that.”

“I know,” you murmur, “but I still fucking hate them.”

“And that’s normal,” Alex replies without hesitation. “It’s even okay. They were terrible people.”

You nod, lips pressed together in a tight line. “I still worry that I’m gonna hurt my kids the way they hurt me.”

Alex shakes her head automatically. “You won’t.”

You tilt your head up so you can see her face. “You sound so certain.”

“Because I am.” She exhales roughly when you grimace, and the hand not on your shoulder starts fiddling with one of the pockets on her black cargo pants. “Compare you and I. We both went through our versions of hell and came out of it. I raised my children, you are about to start your journey with yours.” She pauses, jaw working as she chooses her words. “I did fuck up my children. I didn’t mean to, but… I had very little help –at least in the way that would’ve prevented so much damage.” She purses her lips, then looks down at you and shrugs. “You have knowledge ahead of time. You have already done so much work to get better. You will not be perfect, but you will not remotely fuck your baby up like your parents did with you.”

You draw in a shaky breath, then nod. “Okay. Yeah. Thank you.”

Alex squeezes your shoulder gently—

The front door swings open, and Nikolai steps out onto the porch. He smiles when he sees you and Alex sitting together, but it fades when he notices the pinched expression on both your faces. “Vse v poryadke?”

Alex replies in Russian –you catch a bit about her reassuring you, but the rest goes over her head—then offer your father-in-law a melancholy smile and shrug when he looks over at you. “Just… thinking about my parents.”

Nikolai tuts and shakes his head. “All will be fine.”

“I know,” you say as you rub your stomach with one hand, “but that doesn’t stop me from worrying.”

“Is normal,” Nikolai agrees with a nod of his head. “But you have good support community. Good family. Good therapy.” He smiles reassuringly. “Everything will be okay.”

Alex hums, nodding along, then pats your shoulder before turning her attention back to her husband. “Tebe chto nibud' nuzhno?”

“Ah.” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder towards the cabin’s interior. “I could use help making lunch for students.”

“Sure thing.” You stand –which is a little tricky with the angle of the porch swing and your pregnant belly, but you manage—then pump one fist in the air as you head inside. “Let’s go –Davayte idti!”

Alex chuckles as she follows after you. “Davayte idti, ptitsa.”

…

The clearing the group settled in is nothing short of picturesque. Trees surround the grassy knoll on three sides, while the fourth side is open and stretches out into an endless, rolling meadow. Wildflowers dot the long grass, attracting butterflies, bees, and other pollinators in search of a snack.

The top of the grassy hill –which is closest to the road you, Alex, and Nick take to bring lunch over for everyone—has a few picnic tables set up for hikers and other campers. Currently, the students are clustered around the tables with the other chaperones, working on their landscapes while Piotr instructs and assists them in turn.

You can’t help but to take a moment and admire your husband as he advises a student on how to shade in his trees. If I wasn’t already pregnant, this might just do it.

“Food truck’s here!” Wade announces, bouncing up from his seat at the sight of a welcome distraction. “Do you think they have tacos?”

“Sandwiches today,” Nikolai chuckles. He opens the rear hatch on the van, then eyes the multiple bags of food before looking over at the students. “Perhaps… would be best for students to come to food.”

“Vy pravy.” Piotr sets his sketchbook down on the table, then tucks his pencils and eraser back into his pencil bag before zipping it shut. “Alright, let’s break for lunch.”

The van’s quickly surrounded by a gaggle of hungry teenagers –a dangerous force to reckon with under the best of circumstances.

“Easy –one at a time, please,” Nikolai says as Alex nudges the kids into some semblance of a line. “Ah! Katya.” He grabs a bag marked with a drawing of a cat when Kitty reaches the front of the line, then hands it to her. “Rye bread, no dairy.”

Kitty takes her sandwich with a grin. “Spasibo!”

Once the students are settled with their food, you grab a bag for you and Piotr, then head over to the picnic benches and sit down next to him. “Care for company?”

“With you? Always.” He puts one arm around your shoulders, kisses the top of your head, then accepts the bag you hold out to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” You unwrap your sandwich –cold cuts, cheese, and other fixings—and take a bite while you admire the scenery. “It’s beautiful out here.”

Piotr nods as he crunches down on a carrot stick. “Very peaceful. Bezmyatezhnyy.”

You take another bite of your sandwich, then sigh wistfully. “Y’know,” you reflect once your mouth is clear, “I wish I’d thought to bring my sketchbook. I could stand to draw outside my comfort zone, and this area is perfect for drawing.”

“How about this?” Piotr offers. “After you eat, you can borrow my sketchbook.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Really? I wouldn’t want to ruin it.”

It’s Piotr’s turn to raise one eyebrow at you. Then, he smiles softly and shakes his head. “Myshka, you will not ruin it.”

You smile back, then lean over and kiss his cheek. “Alright. Thanks, honey.”

…

“—Jupiter will be visible just above the tail of Capricornus, whereas Saturn will be positioned in the larger triangle—”

You tip your head back, gazing up at the night sky while Ororo guides the students on how to find visible planets in the night sky.

It’s gorgeous. The lack of city lights means that the Milky Way band is visible. The inky night sky’s glittering with billions of stars, more than you’ve ever seen. Combined with how fresh the air smells and the orchestra of crickets and bullfrogs in the woods, and it’s almost like something taken straight from a fairytale.

The students are peering through binoculars and telescopes, filling out lab reports on celestial bodies via flashlight in between periods of studying the sky.

You, however, are content to admire without magnification –and to not fill out required homework. Graduating has its perks. You smirk at your own wit, then look up when a familiar, heavy hand lands on your shoulder. “Hey.”

“Privet.” Piotr smiles down at you, then presses the back of his hand against your arm. “Are you warm enough?”

You roll your eyes fondly, then pat his side reassuringly. “I’m fine, Piotr.”

“There is cool breeze tonight; we will be stargazing for another hour, at least. I do not want you—”

“I’m fine.” You smile reassuringly at him, then lean against his chest when he acquiesces and puts his arms around your shoulders. “Besides, if I get cold, I’ve got you to warm me up.”

He chuckles and squeezes you gently. “If you get cold, I have jacket for you in car.”

“That, too.” You smile up at him, adoring, then roll up on the balls of your feet to kiss his jaw. “Love you.”

He returns a kiss against your temple. “Ya tebya lyublyu, myshka.”

…

There’s a lake a couple of miles from the cabin and other campsites. It’s remote, used mostly by campers and locals for fishing, kayaking, and swimming. The basin itself is surrounded by trees on all sides, and edged by gravelly beaches.

Despite not being a major body of water, it’s also monitored by the local park ranger association for bacteria and poisonous algae counts –which is what you tell Piotr when he fusses about you going for a swim.

“Dr. Reid said that swimming is the best form of exercise for me,” you remind him on the drive to the trail that leads to the beach. “And it’s not like I’m going for an Olympic record here, sweetheart. I just want to cool off; it’s been muggy as hell the past few weeks.”

“Contaminated waters could pose infection risk—”

“For all of us, Piotr.” You shoot him a stern look as he pulls into an open parking space. “I checked with the ranger’s office before we headed out. They test the waters four days a week during the on season –which so happens to be right now.” You arch one eyebrow when he pulls the keys out of the ignition with a sigh. “Look, I love you, but it’s hot as hell and I’m carrying your baby. You can try to keep me from swimming over your dead body, capiche?”

Piotr grimaces, but capitulates. “Khorosho. But at least wait until students are done with school work? Makes things easier for teachers.”

“That,” you say as you lean across the center console to kiss his cheek, “I can do.”

…

The lake, predictably, is heavenly.

You do wait for the teachers –Logan and Ororo this time around—to walk the students through their morning work. There’s a lesson on the natural fauna and flora found in and around the surrounding habitat, an exercise on identifying rocks on the lakeshore with the help of a geological guidebook (all rocks are returned to their natural environment to prevent erosion, naturally), and another art lesson with Piotr before the students are released for swimming and suitable shenanigans.

You wade in up to your hips, sighing with relief as the cool waters help relieve the sun’s unrelenting scorch. You duck under the lake’s surface briefly, resurfacing seconds after to wipe water away from your eyes.

Most of the students are already in the water –Russell’s hanging back on the shore with Wade and Nate, and Kitty’s chilling on a towel under a sun umbrella.

You nod to yourself, satisfied that the students are doing well, then go back to wading around.

A few minutes later, there’s a loud splashing sound. When you look over, you see Piotr striding into the lake. He pauses for a few moments to send a few splashes towards the more rambunctious students, then resumes his stride and heads towards you.

“I’m fine,” you say once he’s within a few feet of you. “I’m pretty sure flying precludes drowning.”

Piotr opens his mouth, considers, then closes it and holds his hands up in a placating gesture. “I thought water looked nice. Wanted to spend time with my wife.”

“Well,” you muse as you wrap your arms around his waist, “I suppose I can permit that.”

“Spasibo, myshka.” He puts one arm around you in return and admires you for a moment before asking, “Did you apply sunscreen?”

“Ten minutes before wading out here. You can relax, Piotr.” You pat his chest –which is delightfully bare, and if you were alone right now, you’d be trying to coax him into something suitably inappropriate for the students to watch (no pregnancy hormones required, though they certainly don’t hurt). “I’m not going to fall apart just because I’m pregnant.”

“Ya znayu,” he concedes. “I want to take care of you, is all.”

You soften –because how can you not with a line like that and the earnest expression on his face. “Well, thank you. You’re doing a great job of it.” You smile when he kisses the top of your head, then wade in further. “I think I’m going to go a little deeper—”

“Myshka.”

“Relax.” You stop once the water passes over your stomach, so it’s just below your chest, and let out a relieved groan. “I just wanted to take some of the weight off my back.”

He hums, understanding, then steps behind you without further argument. He squats down a little, then hooks his arms under your shoulders and takes the rest of your weight so you can just float.

You sigh, relief coursing through your aching back and hips. You tip your head back against his shoulder and let your eyes slide shut. “Spasibo.”

“Pozhaluysta, myshka.”

…

After a break for lunch, the chaperones elect to suspend the rest of the lessons for the day so the students can swim –a concession to the writhing afternoon heat.

You and Piotr, however, head back to the cabin; your husband, in all his mother hen nature, doesn’t want you overheating or getting worn out.

This time, you’re happy to acquiesce –mostly because you’ve got something else on your mind.

“We should shower,” Piotr says as he ushers you into the blissfully air-conditioned interior of the cabin. “Best to clean lake water off skin.”

“Mhm,” you purr as you look your husband up and down; his swim trunks and cover up shirt are still damp, and they cling to his broad, muscular body in the most delightful ways. “We really should.”

Piotr catches the glint in your eyes and stops in his tracks. A slow, knowing grin spreads across his face. “I take it,” he murmurs as he puts his hands on your hips, “you have… ideas.”

“Oh, plenty of them.” You smirk when he tugs you closer, then trace the tip of your index finger over his chest. “And since the kids will be swimming for the next couple of hours, we have time to explore all of them.”

He sputters slightly, laughing. He shakes his head, then lowers his head to whisper in your ear. “This is not time for sex marathon, myshka.”

“On the contrary.” You slide your hands around his waist and squeeze his ass, grinning when he growls and pulls you flush against him. “I have the utmost faith in your stamina, love.” You kiss his jaw, then grab his hands and tug him towards the bathroom.

Piotr follows without hesitation.

…

The final day is slotted only for fun activities –competitive games, more swimming, and a bonfire in the evening for a hotdog and s'mores dinner.

“Alright, next up is the wooden skis challenge!” you announce as the teens catch their breath from a relay race around the cabin. “Teams of three; Mr. Summers and Mr. Wilson will help you get the skis on correctly,” you explain, gesturing to long, narrow wooden boards with three foot stirrups attached to each. “The race is from the cabin porch to the oak tree over there,” you continue, pointing to the tree –which is about twenty feet away—in question. “First team there wins some special chocolate for tonight’s bonfire.”

Kitty raises one hand. “What if, like, we just want to eat it?”

“You’ll have to divvy it out with your teammates,” you chuckle, “but, yes, you can eat your share beforehand.”

The teens waste no time in deciding on teams –and, in a surprise move that has all the adults raising their eyebrows at one another, Ellie, Yukio, and Kitty all team up together.

Here’s hoping this doesn’t end in a screaming match. You wait until the teams are all set and positioned in their skis by the porch. “Alright. Three… two… one… go!”

It’s hardly like a day at the races –unless one was racing turtles instead of horses. All of the teams lurch in place, sputtering, stumbling, and swearing in a few cases as they try to figure out how to get momentum going.

“Okay –there we go. Just like that!”

You watch, equal parts awestruck and impressed, as Ellie, Yukio, and Kitty start inching forward.

They’ve clearly got a strategy figured out. They’re standing shortest to tallest –Yukio in front, Kitty in the back—so everyone can see what’s in front of them. They’re holding onto the shoulders of the person in front of them, and Yukio has her arms outstretched as well for balance.

“We all need to lift at the same time,” Yukio says when they get stuck again.

“Left, then right,” Ellie decides. “Let’s go! Left… right… left… right…”

Slowly but surely, their team starts pulling out ahead of the others.

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Ororo murmurs to you as she watches the girls with a smile.

You chuckle and nod. “Who says miracles aren’t real.”

“Left! Right!” the girls chant in unison as they pick up speed.

“I think we’re coming up on that tree stump,” Kitty announces, craning her neck to one side to see ahead of them. “We’d probably be better off going around.”

“We could sidestep,” Yukio suggests. “One step to the left should give us enough clearance.”

“We need to move forward a few more feet so we’re past the ditch,” Ellie points out. She keeps a careful eye on the ground, then nods. “Okay –left side first!”

Alex sidles up next to you and Ororo, smirking. “They’re communicating better than some military operations I’ve taken part in.”

“Hey, don’t you know girls run the world?” you fire back, grinning.

Unsurprisingly, given their stellar performance, Ellie, Yukio, and Kitty win. They all cheer when they reach the oak tree miles ahead of the other team, then quickly work their feet loose from the stirrups so they can all hug each other.

“Congratulations!” You applaud along with the other adults. “Very nicely done.”

The girls tear into the first prize basket –which is just an assortment of various chocolate goodies—like a flock of vultures picking over carrion for the best bits.

“Can I have the dark chocolate?” Kitty asks as she sorts through the various treats. “Those have the best shot of being pareve.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Ellie and Yukio answer before sorting any of the dark chocolate options out of their choices.

You smile and lean against your husband as he walks up behind you and puts his arms around your shoulders. “It’s one of nature’s miracles.”

Piotr chuckles. “Perhaps.”

“You think there’s another explanation?” you ask teasingly, tipping your head back so he can see his face.

He shrugs with a smile. “Victory is great motivator.” He nods to the three girls, who are also divvying out a few pieces to the other students in the spirit of good sportsmanship. “And so is chocolate.”

You laugh, then pat his arm as you go back to watching the teens haggle over candy. “Can’t argue with that.”

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #let's kick off the new year right!#with a very timely late summer early fall camping trip fic slkdfjldsfjdlskfj #i'm craving warm weather can you tell #nathan summers x wade wilson #alexandra rasputin x nikolai rasputin #x men fanfiction #deadpool fanfiction

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ariahmichelle · 1 year

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Character list of who I write for

Outer Banks🏝

Rafe Cameron

JJ Maybank

John B Routledge

Drew Starkey

Greys Anatomy🩺

Alex Karev

Jackson Avery

Mark Sloan

Derek Shepherd

Owen Hunt

Andrew DeLuca

Nathan Riggs

Ben Warren

Atticus Linchon

The Summer I Turned Pretty🌞

Jeremiah Fisher

Conrad Fisher

Friends☕️

Joey Tribbiani

Chandler Bing

Ross Geller

Social Media Influencers📱 (only if requested)

Vinnie Hacker

Josh Richards

Bryce Hall

Jeff Wittek

Ace Akers

Kristian Ramey

Bryce Parker

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peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 2 years

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And finally, some (potentially) smutty prompts 😈:

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55sturn · 2 months

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ FEEL IT ON THE WAY HOME

↳ masterlist!

↳ summary: in which matt finds himself growing jealous of y/n's friendship with nathan, despite matt not officially being with her, however she sees his deepest worries and assures there's no one else for her.

↳ pairings: matthew sturniolo x fem!reader

↳ warnings: swearing, jealous!matt, snide comments here and there from matt (basically passive aggressive!matt), relationship anxiety, angst if you squint.

↳ author's note: if you tilt your head, step back a couple feet, and squint your eyes you’ll see it’s based if you are in love by taylor swift.

THIRD PERSON POV

if anyone were to ask matt, when he fell in love with you, he'd tell you somewhere between junior and senior year. but deep down he knew that he was lying. he knows he fell in love with you the moment he met you.

the two of you met during the summer between eighth and ninth grade. it was the one and only summer he let his mom send him away to summer camp with his brothers. he decided that he'd go once, just for the memories.

and boy did he make some memories.

FLASHBACK

"matt c'mon! they're letting us have a free hour on the beach!" chris exclaimed loudly as he jumped on his brother's bed, disturbing the middle triplet who tried to peacefully nap during their free hour.

"chris go away!" matt grumbled, pulling the pillow over his head, keeping away from chris until nick came into the room, ordering matt to get up. matt obliged, but not without complaint.

the three boys made their way down to the beach. chris immediately took off toward the makeshift court where a few boys his age were playing basketball. nick took off toward alahna who attended the camp as well.

matt was about to follow nick when he spotted a girl, probably his age sitting alone at table drawing away in a sketchbook.

"hey, why are you by yourself?" matt greeted, sitting across from her, feeling the need to keep this girl company.

"i just moved to boston and my mom sent me to this stupid camp to make friends in time for school but i'm mad at her so i'm not gonna make any friends." the girl replied, not taking her eyes off her book as her pencil scribbled furiously. when she realized he wasn't leaving, she let out a dramatic sigh and looked out at the water.

"well, i'm matt!" he laughed, noticing how stubborn she was about not looking at him.

"i'm y/n." she replied, finally looking at him and felt her face grow warm, but she thought that was gross so she chalked it up to the summer air against her skin.

a week later, the girl left summer camp with four new friends, despite her penchant for being alone.

when the school year began, y/n quickly found that she was attending the same high school as the triplets. she was quick to fall into their routine, developing a close relationship with their closest friends as well. almost immediately fitting into their dynamic and group.

however, y/n got rather close with nathan almost immediately after meeting him. she opened her arms and let nate in without fighting, she felt a strong brotherly tie to him.

however matt didn't know that she only considered him a brother, his jealously stewing over time. he knew he was falling in love when he wanted to punch nate for stealing y/n from him. he knew he was falling in love when he was angry when he should've been happy when y/n found her first boyfriend.

he knew he was falling in love the moment he met her.

FLASHBACK OVER

in the two years since y/n, the triplets, alahna, and nate have graduated, matt hasn't been able to pinpoint the exact moment his relationship with y/n changed.

they went from awkward teenagers trying to navigate uncomfortable and unfamiliar feelings that brew in the pits of their stomachs every time they met their best friend's eyes, to people testing the waters of what is considered a normal friendship while cuddling, spending the night with her chest to his back and his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

they went from best friends teasing each other relentlessly over not having their first kisses only to become each other's first kisses. they kept the terribly awkward, clashing of teeth, tongue in the wrong spots type of kiss, to themselves.

however, despite their first kiss being terrible, once they graduated and the triplets moved to los angeles, y/n and matt had a tendency to share more kisses every time they convinced her to come out to los angeles or whenever the triplets flew back home to boston.

matt depended on those close, personal moments of intimacy with y/n. they made him feel like he had her in his life in a way that no one did. she was special to him, his first ever love. he didn't want to give that up. and so, he and his brothers were on their way to boston, partly because they missed home and mostly because matt needed to see her.

"so are you gonna tell her?" nick hummed, looking at matt who sat in the middle seat of their section on the plane, his eyes glued to his phone as he watched the minutes tick by, his right knee bouncing rapidly as he waited for the plane to land.

"huh? tell who? what?" matt replied, a delayed reaction to nick's question, the pounding in his chest travelled to his head, causing his reaction time to be slowed.

"he asked if you're gonna tell y/n that you've been in love with her for like ever, bozo." chris snickered, earning a swift smack to the stomach, causing chris to double over groaning slightly. okay so maybe, matt's reaction time wasn't delayed.

"shut up chris. i'm not in love with her."

"that's bullshit, and you know it." nick mumbled, earning a glare from matt who just slumped back in his seat, plugging his airpods into his ears, trying to ignore his brothers and their ridiculous teasing for the rest of the flight. the flight couldn't go by fast enough for matt, who was subconsciously biting his nails as he listened to playlist that y/n had made for him. as the boys struggled to but kept busy, the flight was soon over, all three of them rushing to grab their carry/ons and get off the plane.

as the triplets headed toward their house, they grew nervous. all their friends and family knew they were coming home and were awaiting their arrival. matt felt his nerves calm slightly when he heard y/n's laugh from the open window in the kitchen.

as he pushed through the door, he felt his heart crumble to pieces deep in his chest. seeing y/n, thrown over nate's shoulder laughing loudly as he tickled her, bright matching smiles on their faces, made his words and feelings get stuck in his throat as it ran dry.

matt scoffed slightly and rolled his eyes as y/n looked up from her place over nate's, smiling brightly and squealing slightly as nate placed her on her feet. matt ignored the bitter jealously rising up his throat as she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek briefly.

"i missed you." y/n whispered as she pulled back slightly, the look on her face sending a stubborn, unwavering warmth through matt's chest that he tried to fight hard to fight.

"yeah, you too." matt hummed, hardly looking at her as he stared nathan down, a half-assed grin on his face while he dapped his childhood friend up. as y/n hugged nick and chris, she felt eyes staring into the back of her head. turning around, she met matt's angry stare along with nathan's blissfully unaware, cheesy and lopsided grin.

"can we go to denny's? i could so fuck up some of their waffles right now." y/n laughed, looking to matt, her eyes softening as she silently pleaded for the boy in front of her to drive the group to denny's.

"yeah lemme put my shit away and we can go." matt sighed, the hardened front he masked himself with easily cracking and crumbling down completely around his feet under the soft stare that had him weak in the knees every time he looked her way.

as he quickly shuffled his suitcase and duffel bag up the stairs to his room, he felt his mind swarm with conflicting emotions and ideas, unsure if he wanted to punch his best friend for carelessly flirting with y/n as if his feelings weren't painfully obvious or if he just wanted to settle in security, knowing that he had y/n in a way no one else did.

sighing, he returned back to the group of people waiting for him, knowing if he stayed in his room, someone would come looking for him and he didn't have the nerve to talk about the feelings swirling beneath his ribcage.

the group piled into the van, chris, nick, and matt all in their respective spots, with nate and y/n squished beside each other, giggling amongst themselves as they talked about god knows what.

"so y/n, did you finally ask out that guy you said you were into?" nick prodded, tilting his head inquisitively as he eyed the way her and nate interacted.

"wait, did you think that guy was nate?" y/n laughed loudly, not missing the things nick said with a look.

"i mean, y'all act like a couple." nick chuckled as y/n rolled her eyes.

"yeah you do, it's fucking annoying." matt whispered to no one in particular as his eyes flicked to y/n in the backseat, however chris caught his comment and quietly giggled to himself. the rest of the drive to denny's consisted of the three in the back bickering over shit while chris watched matt stew in his jealousy from beside him, smirking to himself.

as the group piled into the restaurant, they all ordered their preferred forms of breakfast despite it being nearly two in the morning. the group giggled amongst themselves, save for matt who couldn't stop glaring at nate. y/n had picked up on and it made her feel unsettled, she couldn't pinpoint why he'd be upset.

as everyone finished paying for their food, y/n pulled matt aside, her hand on his arm as she looked up at him.

"what's goin' on up there?" she asked, her voice soft and calm, hoping it'd ease matt into talking, and help her get a sense of understanding what he was feeling.

"it's nothing, y/n." he muttered, his voice cold and slightly unsteady as he pushed her hand off his arm.

"matt, c'mon i know you better than you think i do, tell me what's bothering you. you've been acting weird since you first walked in the door. nate's noticed it and so have i."

"why don't you just go bother nate about it then? you seem to be much closer with him anyway." he snapped, rolling his eyes are the shock that fell on her face, before feeling his heart sink as her eyes held something that resembled hurt.

"that's what this is about?"

"y/n, drop it please."

"no matt, i thought it was clear that i don't see anyone else the way i see you."

"well with the way you've been acting with nate it makes me wonder what we actually are. i'm normally not the type to get jealous but jesus christ, i can't help it. you're an amazing girl, any guy would be lucky to have you as their girlfriend or whatever we are and i sometimes wonder why you're into me." matt whispered, unable to keep his feelings at bay any longer with the way she was looking at him, her head tilted, nothing but love and concern in her eyes. she made him feel safe, like he could tell her his deepest emotions and she would listen intently, providing safety for him.

"matt,-" she whispered, stepping closer to him and cupping both sides of his face, her thumbs dragging along his cheekbones as he leaned into her touch, his eyes falling shut briefly.

"there is absolutely no need to worry at all, i'm yours, okay? i-" she paused, taking a deep breath before continuing,

"i love you, matt. i've never looked at another guy the way i've looked at you. not once, and frankly i don't want to. there's no one that can understand a simple look from me the way you do. there's no one who knows me better than you, no one else who's ever taken the time to understand me and be patient with me the way you have. i am yours, and i hope that you're mine. okay?"

"okay." he whispered back, nodding softly as she leaned up, pressing her lips to his in a gentle but passionate kiss that meant they had a mutual agreement, that they were each others, and that one kiss, that one simple kiss that meant they understood each other, was more than enough for matt.

the two broke apart at the sound of giggles, turning to find the rest of the group standing behind them.

"what the fuck was that?" chris exclaimed, genuinely shocked that his brother and his best friend were kissing, and seemingly together.

"a kiss, dumbass."

"yeah but is this the first time or?"

"chris you idiot, do you not ever read between the lines? it's obvious they've been together for a while now." nick replied, his tone incredibly dull, like matt and y/n being together was the most obvious thing.

"i love you too, y/n." matt whispered as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side, and pressing a kiss the side of her head as they walked toward the van.

falling in love with your best friend is never easy, it's complicated and messy and leaves behind a lot of doubt but y/n was worth every bit of complicated, every bit of mess left behind, y/n was worth it all to matt.

and that alone, was enough to put his worries and self doubt at ease. because as long as y/n was there to reassure him that she was his, he knew they'd be okay.

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hellishjoel · 8 months

Text

cherry

7.6k / pairing: dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

summary: Joel invites you over for a movie night with your parents and Sarah out of town. How are you supposed to focus on the film with his hand on your thigh?

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, neighbor!joel, age gap (reader is in their early 20s while Joel is in his 40s), cursing, alcohol consumption, use of pet names, softdom! Joel AND dom!Joel (restraint by command), oral sex (m receiving), praise kink, reader titty appreciation, super descript about Joel’s bulging biceps (we all know the picture that came out with him holding onto his luggage and I have not REST)

A/N: I wrote all of this today.. I don't know what's wrong with me. I hope you enjoy! I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope these two are growing on ya'll as much as they're growing on me <33

Joel could sense the shift, his hand coming to gently cup your cheek and bring your eyes back to his. He didn’t look mad like you maybe expected of him. You could feel his jaw going slack under your thumb, your mouth sucking in the side of your cheek as you sat in awkward silence. You sort of wanted to leap out of his lap and return to the movie. But he wouldn’t let you, he planted you there with his hand on your hip and forced you to look at him. You teetered your wine glass on his shoulder. “You wanna kiss me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, causing a few syllables to be cut out due to the raspiness. You slowly nod. A beat passes. “Why won’t ya let me then?”

A few times throughout the summer, the lakehouse was yours and yours alone. While on vacation, your parents always make it a point to go out to dinner and drinks with their old friends that lived in a neighboring town, leaving you in blissful solitude.

You used to go with them when you were younger, too young to be left home alone. You’d hang out with their son, Nathan, on the tire swing or go swimming in their pool.

Once you and Nathan both turned thirteen, you found that Nathan was involved in a lot of sports leagues that summer, and therefore he wasn’t going to be around much. Your parents didn’t want to punish you and force you to hang out with four grown adults all day, so they let you stay behind at the lakehouse.

It was your first sense of freedom, taking care of yourself, having your own routine. You remember breaking into your piggy bank and riding your bike into town with Sarah that day to play at the arcade. You came back home with your lackluster arcade prizes and made mediocre hot dogs. It was a little lonely, the house often bustling with noise from your parents, but it was also serene to be alone.

Needless to say, you were at peace to wave your parents off this morning as they backed out of the driveway and left you and the lakehouse for the day.

Your eyes flitted over to the Miller’s. Both Joel’s pickup truck and Sarah’s used and abused 2000’s red Saturn were parked in the shade. Part of you couldn’t believe Sarah could even drive. That five-year-ish age difference felt even more profound as young adults.

You tried to find ways to busy yourself tonight until your date with Joel. Date? Not a date. Hang out. Movie night. Meet up. Rendezvous. Literally any other word besides date.

You needed to distract yourself because tonight was a ways away.

You busied yourself with cleaning your room and bathroom, followed by reading on the dock. When it got too warm, you took a refreshing dip in the lake, followed by some leisurely sunbathing. After a shower, you found solace in jotting down your thoughts in your journal, channeling any residual nerves about the upcoming night.

You found that documenting your summer experiences provided you with a sense of clarity. You aimed to revisit these entries later in life, reminiscing about the intensity of your emotions. These pages held memories of your first boyfriend, the elation of passing your driving test, the ache of lost friendships, and the journey to college.

After the bonfire, before you couldn’t even think about sleeping, you were ferociously writing in your journal. The way your heart raced, the way you were so proud of yourself for taking a leap of faith with Joel. Because it was so, so worth it.

In the decades to come, the memories you once experienced that felt so fresh would naturally fade. That’s the point of your journals, to document how deeply you felt about your life at the time. Pouring your emotions onto the page felt like tending to a wounded heart. In hindsight, those entries about sadness and turmoil elicited a little giggle. Your mom always told you that it was better to feel anything than not to feel at all.

You wondered how much Joel felt, like, really felt. On the surface, he was as cold and unmoveable as stone. What was he like with his passions and the people he cared about? You knew he loved Sarah to an unimaginable degree. He would do anything for her. But besides his own blood, what were the things he cared about?

After putting pen to paper, you shoved your journal under your pillow and started to get ready. You over-dicked-around, and now the clock was ticking.

You wanted to look somewhat nice. After your recent interactions with Joel, one where you quite literally looked like you just rolled out of bed, you were keen on looking at least somewhat presentable.

But it was a movie night, after all, and you wanted to be comfortable. You opted to wear something simple, not too date-ey, not too casual. But you did wear Joel’s hoodie. It wasn’t for any overt purpose but because Joel’s house consistently seemed to mimic an icebox. Joel struck you as someone who could thrive in Alaska, content in solitude amid the cold.

The hoodie still smelled like him, mixed with a little residual bonfire smoke, but his scent was still deeply lodged into the fabric. A navy hoodie with fraying material around the neckline and cuffs. Well-worn and well-loved. He must have loved it enough not to take it to work because it was free of any stains and rips from what you could tell.

You twirled your finger around the hoodie’s strings, looking yourself over slowly in the mirror. Your eagerness practically floated you over to Joel’s house, Sarah’s car now gone. She must have left for her camping trip.

After taking cautious steps up Joel’s rickety porch, you sent a rhythmic knock against the Miller’s front door. You heard a few heavy steps on the other side, hearing a lock flip before Joel appeared in front of you.

“It’s about time, I was starting to sweat.” You said as you pulled open the screen door that divided you two before walking past him, catching his subtle eye roll as you did so.

The house looked like the same as it did ten years ago. Lots of dark wood, a cozy living room with a fireplace, and a lamp in the corner by the window. Joel had the perfect view of the lake. You naturally gravitated further into the room to look at the water glisten as the last hits of sunshine glided over the horizon.

“You want somethin’ to drink?”

Your head snapped to Joel, your arms already crossed at the cooler temperature piercing through the material of your clothes.

“Yeah, what do you have?” Your small steps trekked into the kitchen, finally taking a full look at Joel. Your face faltered at the sight of him.

Joel had traded in his usual tattered green flannel for a nicer, cleaner denim button-up. He had on his staple worn-in jeans, and for whatever reason, he still had on his work boots. But his hair was sort of run-through, freshly showered and combed back. He looked handsome, clean, like he was trying.

You slyly smiled at him. He seemed to quickly catch your drift, already avoiding your eye contact with a huff. “I got... Whiskey,”

“Ew, no.”

“Root beer,”

“Nope.”

Joel let out an excruciatingly long sigh as he ducked his head further into the depths of his fridge, mumbling something about you being a piece of work.

“It’s water, or,” with a groan, he stood up from the fridge, “this bottle of wine. Probably old.”

Old? The bottle looked nothing but. No dust, fresh label, barely chilled. You didn’t want to call out the poor man for trying to make tonight classy, but you knew Joel had purchased this bottle of wine for tonight. For you.

If it were any other date or any other guy, you would have pushed his nose into it a bit. Teased them for caring and being so sweet. But this wasn’t any other guy, this was Joel. And if you ever tried to admit that you saw right through him, he would clam up for the rest of the evening out of his adorable bashfulness. So you let it be. For now.

“Wine’s good.” You say casually with a little nod, trying to relax your cocky smile. Even when he turned around to fetch some old wine glasses inside the very top of a kitchen cabinet, you could tell he was satisfied with himself. Hiding a smile with his back turned.

You pulled the bottle closer to read the label. You rolled it around in your hand, your thumb tracing the stamped lettering. Cherry wine.

“Haven’t had a chance to eat all day, got us some pizzas,” Joel said as his head nodded to the side, following the direction to two pizzas still warm and in their cardboard box homes on the counter.

“Can’t have a movie night without pizza.” Your voice cooed as you set down the wine to take a peak inside, seeing all of its cheesy glory.

Joel topped off a singular wine glass, your head twisting curiously at just the one. He clinked your glass with his beer bottle, and you rolled your eyes.

“Thanks.” You murmured, turning on your heel to grab your glass and one of the pizza boxes before walking it to his living room.

You sat right in the middle of the couch, not giving Joel any excuse to sit too far away.

“Scootch,” Joel said as he motioned with his beer bottle to make room on the couch. You made a little noise of disapproval toward him.

“Mm-mm.” You shook your head.

“What?”

Your sneaker tapped the heel of his boot.

“Take those off. You can’t relax during a movie still wearing work boots.”

He looked a little perplexed before looking down at his boots. Probably forgot they were even on. They were practically his spare feet at this point.

“Fine. You too.” He said as his steel toe gently nudged your sneakers in return. You softly nodded, both of you undoing your laces. Sitting on the couch arm, Joel worked to loosen one boot and then the other, hearing the methodical snap of the laces. You slip yours off with ease, picking them up by the upper heel collar and tossing them by the door. Joel just kicked his aside and sat down next to you with a thump into the cushion.

“We’re watching Pride & Prejudice.” You commandeered the remote out of his hand, his eyebrow cocking to you in disbelief.

“The hell is that?”

Disbelief tangled your facial expression. “You’ve never seen Pride & Prejudice?”

Joel’s cocked his head to the side, face sitting like stone. Really?

“Do I look like the type’a guy that watches Pride & Prejudices?”

You rolled your eyes and huffed.

“It’s based on the novel by Jane Austen. About... literally so much. The independence of women. Societal norms relating to gender and marriage. Any of this ring a bell?”

“I know Sarah likes it. That’s about it.” Your smile quips up as you click play. “Perfect.”

“Do we have to?” His annoyance held no restraint.

“This movie night is to get back into my good graces, is it not?” You asked as your body leaned away, getting a good look at him.

Through tight lips, he held back a smile before nodding a little and turning to the opening credits. “Yes, ma’am.”

It didn’t take long for Joel’s arm to settle around your shoulders, bringing your body into his side. His thumb was stroking the hoodie you wore, his hoodie.

In his close proximity once again, your senses pick up on his now all too familiar scent; Woody, minty, a little bit of citrus from his body wash. He smelled good, you wonder if he wore cologne tonight or if this was his natural musk. You wouldn’t put it past Joel to naturally smell this good. He was good at a lot of things without even trying.

A few slices of pizza and two glasses of wine later, you started to feel the weight of Joel’s unbearably heavy arm. You released yourself from him and opted to turn and rest your side against the back of the couch cushions, putting your legs in his lap.

You hadn’t been watching the movie for the last twenty minutes. Couldn’t stop trying to subtly look at how handsome Joel looked in the flicker of the television’s light from your peripheral. You couldn’t help it. He looked so big and hot, like a lumberjack, his stupid build alone making you fold.

You bite at the inside of your cheek as Joel’s large and warm palm gently make slow strokes up and down your calf. Your body was trying not to twitch. Your heart was thrumming in your throat. You glanced up at him again, his eyes lasered in on the television.

“Why’d he…” Joel’s voice trailed off, bringing your attention back to the screen.

Your eyelashes fluttered, your brain trying to get you out of Joel Fantasy World and back into the film. “Hm? What?”

“Why’d his hand cramp like that? Why’d they film that part?” Without intention, Joel’s curiosity was evident in his question. It immediately made you smile as you watched the television again, your body slumping into his side.

“It’s not a hand cramp, he’s flexing it. It’s the film’s interpretation of his like… emotional turmoil and struggle. His feelings are evolving for Elizabeth, though he’s trying to appear all aloof and distant towards her. But their physical connection, he can’t really hide it, y’know? He can’t hide how he feels. So he flexes his hand because he’s affected by her presence and her touch. He can’t help it.”

Joel’s hanging onto every word you say. You’re not so sure if he’s interested in the film as much as he is in hearing you talk about it. The hand that was messing around on your calf was now trailing higher up your thigh. And flexing the higher it climbed.

Your eyes looked from his amber ones to his lips, your heart racing faster in your chest. With one hand still clutching your wine glass, you managed to swing one leg over his lap to straddle him. You folded first. You couldn’t take Joel’s achingly slow touches.

His enjoyment was obvious in his movements, his calloused hands slowly pushing up your thighs until they landed on the security of your waist. He was gripping the hoodie in his fists, observing your silhouette.

“This mine, too.” It wasn’t a question, he was pointing it out to you. Joel giving you his own clothes to wear was by no mistake. It was a way of marking what was his, even if it was just in his mind.

“Mine now.” Your words were whispered, leaning down and kissing at the hook of his jawline.

“Like you in it. Wear it a hell’uva lot better than I do.” The shift in his voice was clear, huskier, and a little touch drunk. The film’s volume seemed softer now, playing as white noise and falling abandoned.

His words made your stomach flip, your teeth purposely grazing against his skin. The motion made his hands trail down lower to the globes of your ass, humbly squeezing the flesh with the spans of his palms. A weak moan left your lips against his ear as he planted kisses on the inner side of your neck and on your shoulder. He was so fuckin’ greedy for you.

“Joel,” you whispered between kisses along his jawline, lips coming up to his chin as one of your hands gently cupped the side of his neck while the other clutched your wine glass for dear life.

As soon as your lips came close to his, you faltered. And Joel could tell.

Suddenly both of your eyes were open, soft, and holding contact. Your lips parted, but nothing came out. The only thing that actually came from you was a little sigh of disappointment, your eyes shyly flitting away.

Joel could sense the shift, his hand coming to gently cup your cheek and bring your eyes back to his. He didn’t look mad like you maybe expected of him.

You could feel his jaw going slack under your thumb, your mouth sucking in the side of your cheek as you sat in awkward silence. You sort of wanted to leap out of his lap and return to the movie. But he wouldn’t let you, he planted you there with his hand on your hip and forced you to look at him. You teetered your wine glass on his shoulder.

“You wanna kiss me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, causing a few syllables to be cut out due to the raspiness. You slowly nod. A beat passes. “Why won’t ya let me then?”

This was Joel’s second or so attempt to kiss you. The first time was on the tailgate of his truck, you didn’t even think about letting him kiss you in his woodshed.

You weren’t trying to remain mysterious or aloof, something he managed to do so naturally. You shifted in his lap uncomfortably, your eyes drifting to the window behind his head and watching the water shift in the black of night.

“It’s not that deep, Joel. Just don’t want anyone to get attached.” You shrug and shake your head. “I don’t know, who cares?”

“I care.” Even blasted on movie pizza and beers, he was as quick as a whip. His care wasn’t soft, it was strong. He cared like a fiercely loyal shield.

You exhaled a deep sigh, your chest reflecting your breath as he slowly brought you back to him.

“I’m scared that I’ll like it.” The movie’s distant volume was comforting white noise to your nerve-wracked conversation with Joel. This was perhaps the most you’ve talked with him in one sitting. And about something so deeply personal, too.

He took in what you said, slowly beginning to shake his head as his hand cupped more seriously against your jawline.

“”t’s just a kiss.” His tone was seductive, sincere. Whispering like no one else in the world could hear. “Kiss me.”

You didn’t feel pressured, Joel was looking at you like he genuinely cared about what you had to say. About the movie, about the kissing. He bought you wine, he got pizzas, and he’s suffering through a period drama to sit beside you on his couch. Damn you, Joel Miller.

You felt your body relax into his again, no longer cold and rigid. Your bodies meshed as you fell into the front of his chest, your hand on his neck moving up to cup his jaw. You tilted up his face and received no resistance. Just kiss him.

You met his lips, soft and sweet, delicate and gentle. Your hand slipped from his jaw and landed absentmindedly on his chest, feeling his thumping heartbeat against your palm.

You didn’t pull away. It was impossible.

He tasted like mint and whiskey, with hints of residual smoke from a cigarette earlier in the day. You wouldn’t know he smoked unless you were tasting him like you were right now.

Joel was encouraging something out of you, deep and primal, as you let the kiss deepen. He took the lead with a heady mix of softness and urgency.

He set a scorching fire between your legs, purely drunk on his lips alone. It sent a shiver down your spine how intense this stone-like man could be. Your mouths moved with desire and rhythm, feeling an electric spark that sent your senses ablaze.

Goosebumps had sprinkled across the skin of your arms, your once soft hand on his jaw now clutching him there and tugging lightly at his curly tendrils. You weren’t letting him go.

Your sounds filled the room, hot and wet kisses punching the air from both of your lungs.

A breath was shared, your forehead on his as both of your chests rose and fell together.

His eyes caught yours. More?

You gently nod. Please.

He was back with you in a hot heat, both of you wanting, no, needing more of one another.

He balanced a tantalizing fusion of passion and longing, a magnetic pull that had you grinding your hips down into his lap.

The world around you faded into a blur as you felt his tongue glide across your lower lip, asking permission. Your lips easily parted, tongues dancing and melting, your hands shaking a bit in excitement.

Joel was consuming you. His tongue marking his territory as he explored your mouth before kissing you heatedly once more. You realized that the kiss wasn’t an exploration of feelings at all, Joel wanted to languish in your taste, stake out the claim of your mouth. Taste and territory.

A low grunt left the depths of his throat as your hips ground over him with desperation now. You could feel his dick swelling against your ass.

Your lips quirked up in a smirk against his, you liked that you could feel his facial expressions, and he, yours.

Without thinking, you went to cup his face in both hands, your wine glass dropping onto Joel’s chest, and what little wine you had left was splashing his denim button-up red. He didn’t even notice.

“Joel--, wait,” you were breathless as you pulled away, his lips moving to the open expanse of your neck instead, his arms tight around your lower back. He could care less about his shirt, or the wine, or the spare glass rolling around between your stomachs.

You laughed breathlessly, closing your eyes as you kept your chests apart, careful not to get wine on his favorite sweatshirt next. Your head fell back, your hair fanning out as you grinned at the ceiling.

“Joel, your shirt is stained.” You tried to point out, both of your hands clamped onto his shoulders weakly to keep him at a distance. But his lust-filled lips had a taste of you that he couldn’t replace. His teeth grazed the soft skin of your neck, wincing lightly as you let out a broken little whimper.

“Don’t care.”

Oh my god. Fuck. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, desperate for more, but you weren’t going to let him stain one of maybe three decent shirts he owned. And with wine, you had to be fast acting.

“Come on,” you said weakly, not even convinced yourself to break away. “Joel, your shirt-”

“Don’t. Care.” He growled through gritted teeth, eyes hungry as you felt him lick a hot, slow stripe up your neck to your jaw. Fuck, he felt so good.

Despite his clear lack of empathy for his shirt, you felt bad because it was your spill, your accident to try and make up to him.

You rolled your eyes playfully and shook your head. He didn’t stop until you planted both palms against his pecs and pushed him back with little force, watching as he fell into the cushions with a lazy smirk on his face as he looked over you. Joel was drunk off your kiss.

You found your footing on the hardwood floors, grabbing his hands and attempting to pull him up and off the couch. He playfully resisted, just kept sitting there as you weakly tried again.

“Stop bein’ such a dick.” You huffed. His laugh filled the room, nearly startling you. It was always quite the opportunity to hear him laugh so big like that.

“Couldn’t pull me up no matter how hard ya try.”

“Shut up. Stand up.” You ordered with little follow-through from Joel.

He yanked his hands from yours and planted his palms onto the tops of his thighs, pushing himself off the couch and following you aimlessly to his master bathroom.

“Do you have some hydrogen peroxide? Dishwasher detergent?”

He stayed silent but looked at you quizzically. You rolled your eyes and started looking through different cabinets.

“Baking soda?” Cocking your head to him, he nods and disappears before returning to you with the little orange Arm & Hammer cardboard box.

You cleared your throat and looked at him expectantly.

“Joel, I can’t clean the shirt with you wearing it. Take it off.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see his lips upturned in a cocky smirk. Sometimes you just wanted to smack it clean off his face.

Fine. With a sense of ferocity, you began to take him down button by button. He lets you. He even steps closer to your body, and you try not to get distracted by him.

“I don’t wanna be the one that messes up your nice shirts.” You murmur.

“t’s fine.” He cups your cheek again and tries to divert your attention once more. He’s not even actively trying to kiss you, he just wants to get a rise out of you now. You’re trying not to smile at him in the reflection of his bathroom mirror. Your elbow jabs into his bare abdomen after you’ve peeled the wet material from his torso.

“Quit it.”

“Quit what?”

Forcing yourself to turn away from him wasn’t enough. Now he’s behind you planting kisses down the side of your neck with his hands on your waist and toying with the hem of your sweatshirt.

You had to admit being on his lap like that got you hot and bothered to the tenth degree. Now you were nursing a stained shirt and the ache in your core.

“‘lright, fine.” Oh, thank god. You could breathe again. You were this close to caving, and caving to Joel was a losing game.

He found a towel and wiped at his chest and torso while you blotted away with a paper towel the excess wine in his shirt. After getting out what you could, you sprinkled the baking soda over the little splashes of red and added a few drops of water to make somewhat of a paste. Now you just had to wait for it to dry and toss it in the laundry.

You hoped you didn’t ruin the denim shirt, you quite liked how he looked in it. The blue denim complimented the soft silver in his curls, and the cuffs rolled up accentuated his biceps.

Speaking of biceps. Your eyes innocently watched him move around the bathroom shirtless. He was somewhat toned, a handsome mix of dad bod and muscle. Like a sexy lumberjack. He was big and broad, wide in the shoulders and smaller in the waist. With all the summer log chopping, his biceps were toned.

A shaky breath left your mouth, his eyes catching yours in the mirror before you quickly looked away, washing your hands of the baking soda paste you had made.

“It’s uh… It’s good now. Just let it dry and put it in the washer. Alone. Without anything else in there.” You quickly nodded, over-clarifying again. You braved looking at him again in the mirror. Mistake. A smug little smile that beat up your guts was laced on his lips.

Your hand was quick to reach for the door handle, but his hand was already on your other wrist and pulling you into his front.

“Get back here,” Your name drips off his lips, and it’s drenched in lust.

Fuck it.

Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck, feeling his raised trap muscles under your forearms as your lips reunite with Joel’s.

Getting that first kiss between you two out of the way was a blessing in disguise because now you knew him. You were acquainted with his lips. You liked his taste, you liked how soft he was, you liked the stubble of his beard, and you liked the way his warm palms were on you as soon as you entered his space. He embraced every inch of you, his kisses were feverish, and they left your mind in a tailspin. No one had ever kissed you like this before.

You ducked your head down before he could stop you, kissing over his wine-spoiled chest. You kissed lower and lower before licking a slow stripe up his sternum, tasting residual cherry and sweetness from the wine.

Your lips parted as you looked in the mirror, realizing now that he had pinned both your wrists behind your back and planted them at your tailbone.

Your doe eyes innocently looked up at him, his face masked in desire and an appetite for you.

“Get on your knees.”

A breath hitched in your throat, your eyes trying to focus as you looked over Joel’s face. Your eyes fluttered down to his biceps, strong and defined with veins lining like rivers coursing along the curves as they held your wrists back. You didn’t hesitate to drop down to your knees.

He had let go of your wrists, so you brought your hands up to undo the button of his jeans, but he tsk-ed you.

“But I-”

“But nothing. Put your hands behind your back again.” You pouted but obeyed. You wanted to touch him.

Your lips parted as you watched Joel pop open the button of his jeans, his thumbs lining the hem of his jeans and boxers at his hips before pushing them down to his thick thighs. His cock was already half-hard from when you were grinding on him back on the couch.

Your breaths grew heavier, you couldn’t manage to stay in his hoodie. You peeled the heavy navy sweatshirt off, leaving you in nothing underneath, which earned sweet praise from Joel as soon as you laced your hands once more behind your back.

“So fuckin’ pretty.. Look at you.” He lightly leaned over and cupped one of your tits, massaging it in the heart of his palm and rolling your taut nipple around with his thumb. A quiet whine was elicited from your throat, face crumbling as your hands fought hard not to release themselves behind your back.

You wanted to touch him, cup his face, hold his thighs, wrap your hand around his dick that was flush against his stomach.

A harsher tug to your nipple left you moaning, watching as he leaned down and let a long, long dribble of spit connect from his lips down onto your chest. Your head fell back at the cool sensation, feeling it aid the heat of your breasts.

He stood up tall again, broad and towering, as you glanced over to the mirror. The dynamic was almost charming. You on your knees for Joel, his blushing cock swelling against his happy trail. He was so handsome, so greedy.

Without thinking, you released your hands from around your back and moved to steady yourself on his thighs.

“Not gonna tell you again, pretty girl.” You paused and looked to Joel. “No usin’ your hands tonight. Just that dirty mouth a’yours.” His accent was drenched with lust, dripping like syrup.

You whined as you assumed your position with your hands away, not knowing what to expect if you tried to use them again.

You attempted to crawl closer to him, your knees practically between his slightly parted legs.

You kissed up his inner thigh, grinning lightly at the slight taste of his sweat. Your tongue kitten licked at his balls, hearing him seethe in a breath through gritted teeth. Sensitive, a little wrinkled, lightly groomed just for you. It made you smirk that he cared enough to trim.

You tested the waters, letting your warm mouth coat him in saliva, going from one ball to the other until they were both practically dripping. His cock was twitching for your attention, but Joel was above begging and groveling. For now.

With devilish eyes, you looked up to him as you suckled one of his balls. He didn’t stop you, just cursed a little under his breath as his chest moved faster. You picked up the suckling from him when he nursed your sensitive, throbbing clit between his teeth and tongue. Now, it was your turn to repay the favor.

Your lips released him with a pop, and you watched as Joel let out a breath he was holding in. His hand loosely fisted your hair in a loose ponytail atop your head, a little moan leaving your mouth as your scalp tingled with his tug.

Your eyes closed as you worked over the other ball, suckling and licking and doing it all just to watch his cock grow angrier and more jealous of the attention. Your own spit was falling down your lips and chin, coating your breasts in a glistening sheen.

Working without your hands, you used your core to balance yourself against Joel. Your knees dug uncomfortably into the floor. He liked watching you work to suck him off.

You had to look to Joel for assistance, his shaft so hardened now against his stomach that you couldn’t reach. You sat up as straight as you could, Joel smirking down at you and watching you struggle for a few brief moments. “Come ‘ere, pretty girl.” He used the free hand not tangled in your locks to guide his tip down to your open mouth, your lips wrapping loosely around the head.

You made the mistake of releasing him out of habit, whimpering as your knees scrambled on cold tile to get him back to the warmth of your mouth. He opted to help you again, guiding his tip onto your red, wine-stained tongue.

This time, you learned not to release him. Your tongue salivated his tip, swollen and sensitive. You could tell by how tight Joel clutched your hair and nearly pulled you off.

You smirked lazily around him as you took him deeper, your watery eyes on his as you interlocked your fingers by your tailbone.

You were slow at first, little nods back and forth, up and down his shaft. You blinked through any residual tears, slicking him up with your spit and proceeding farther down his shaft. You clenched your eyes closed and choked lightly as you took him to his base, a low groan of praise leaving Joel as his thumb stroked up your cheekbone.

“Fuck me, so fuckin’ good for me, darlin’.” His words were broken by his rasp, but the praise sent you into overdrive.

You bobbed your head at a good pace, Joel guiding you by your hair up and down his shaft, slicked by excess saliva that was dripping onto your tits and your stomach. You had to take a breath, but you learned from earlier. Your head came to rest against his thigh, head foggy as his tip sat plump against your cheek. You looked at the two of you in the mirror, and it was quite a sight.

Joel’s body was planted by his heels, his toned torso and biceps protruding with hints of sweat. You had black-smudged tears on your waterline, and your face was filled with warmth. Your hair was a mess, Joel gently stroking it back from your sweat-glistened forehead as you breathed through your nose. You liked watching you work in the mirror. Watching him get ruined in the mirror. Watching yourself get ruined in the mirror.

You started your rhythm again, this time your eyes locked loosely on the mirror in your peripheral. Joel’s cock made you choke each time you took him deep, but you didn’t let it stop you. He was so close, you had the heady taste of his precum on your tongue. He liked it messy.

“Fuck- can’t,” Joel let out a rugged moan, it felt like it vibrated the tiles under your aching knees. Your wrists were throbbing from keeping your arms back, hands clenched together tight as you followed his rules. “Can’t hold on when you take me so-- so goddamn good.”

You whimper-whined against his cock, hollowing your cheeks as you moved with intent up and down his shaft. You opted just to take what you easily could now, focused on keeping the pace and working towards his orgasm. You thought about Joel fucking your mouth, but he wanted you to feel some sense of control since you had your hands back. Maybe you wanted to lose all control. If it was Joel you were losing it with.

Joel was close, he couldn’t hold back how messy he had gotten. He had a steel-tight grip on your hair, and his breaths were laced with broken moans and grunts of your name. He kept wiping away any tears that slipped past your eyes and onto your cheeks, despite being devastatingly close to an orgasm you knew he was drunk on.

“Yeah, fuck me,” He murmured under his breath, his cock twitching deep in your throat now. “Take me so well... The fuckin’ best, babygirl.” The best.

You watched through blurry, head-dizzy vision as Joel’s ab muscles contorted. “Gonna cum, baby, stay with me.” He panted, eyes locking on yours as you nodded on his shaft and continued your sweet rhythm.

You whimpered as his tip pulsed against your tongue, going down on him as deep as you could and clenching your eyes closed, waiting for Joel’s impending climax. And he kept you there as he painted your throat white.

His cum came out in hot ropes, moaning lowly against his shaft as you focused on tasting him and breathing through your nose. He was salty, little beads landing in the back of your throat as you swallowed around him.

Joel’s moans were glorious, breathy, and aching to say your name. His eyes had fallen closed, his stance still tall and broad. You wanted to touch him, kiss him. You decided to lay your head against his thigh, still breathing around his dick as you watched yourself in satisfaction through his mirror.

“Fuck,” he murmured low, pulling you off of him with a pop. Your jaw lightly throbbed, but god, you felt like you were in the clouds.

“Hands?” Your raw voice whimpered. He gave a silent nod of approval, and with his permission, you released your interlocked hands and lightly toppled back on your ass, leaning against the door to his linen closet.

Joel observed you for a few moments, making sure you were okay before he grabbed a spare washcloth and ran some lukewarm water over it. Your eyes peeked open when you heard his zipper go up on his jeans, seeing he had straightened out his bottom half.

You tried to focus your vision, seeing him squat down beside you and lightly press the cold washcloth to your temple, cheeks, and up your neck. It helped, you were settled, safe, and with Joel.

“Holy fuck.” You finally said once you had come down from your high. Your eyes met Joel’s, seeing both of your mouths were quirked up in lopsided smiles.

“Too much?” He asked, the washcloth now delicately cleaning up the saliva on your breasts.

You slowly shook your head. No, never too much. Just new.

You looked around, feeling an ache in your knees and in your wrists. You rolled your wrists in circles to relieve some pressure on the joints before you pushed your palms up and down your kneecaps gently.

“Hey,” Joel’s words caught your attention, turning to him as he lightly cupped your cheek. “You were fuckin’ perfect, darlin’.” A weak mewl left you, a tired smile on your lips.

“You said the best.”

“Was perfect. Was the best. Did a perfect job.” His praise punched excitement through your veins, regaining your strength to stand back up with Joel’s honorable assistance. You murmur a thanks before you make a grab for Joel’s hoodie. As if he was going to steal it back from you.

Joel excused himself to go clean up the kitchen, leaving an attentive kiss on your cheek before he left you alone.

You took a few minutes to rinse some water around in your mouth and try to brush your fingers through your knotted, matted hair.

“Need to get yourself a brush, Mr. Miller.” You murmur as you pass him in the kitchen, seeing he pulled on a new t-shirt and that he had put some of the leftover pizza in spare Tupperware containers.

“Can’t eat it all by myself, and Sarah won’t be home for a few more days.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He could so totally finish that pizza if he wanted to. He could do it tonight as soon as you leave.

Reading your mind, he shoved the container into your hands. “Just-- fuckin’ take it, why you gotta make things so damn difficult.”

You smirked and patted the container softly. “My specialty. Irritating old grouchy men.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head at you, picking up the wine bottle next and figuring out what to do with it. Your eyes softened, watching the gears turn in his head for how he was going to handle this situation.

“Do you care if I take the rest of it home, actually? I know it’s yours, and it’s been yours for a while, but it was really good.” Lame excuse. Joel leaned into it though, nonetheless. You were at Joel’s side now, looking to him with gentle eyes and a tender smile. He teetered on his feet for a moment before he nodded and handed it over.

“Yeah, you’re doin’ me a favor so it doesn’t just keep sittin’ in the fridge.”

You nodded softly and tried to jam the cork back in as well as you could, Joel swiftly taking the bottle from you and popping it back into its home with ease due to his sheer strength.

You turned to the television and huffed, seeing the credits of Pride & Prejudice roll. Dammit.

Joel joined you at your side, crossing his arms and giving the television a once over. “So did they, y’know, end up together?” There was Joel’s pure curiosity again. This time, he didn’t hide it so well.

“Guess you’ll have to watch to find out. Don’t forget to throw that shirt in the washer.” You said with a cocky grin, holding up the wine bottle and pizza leftovers in gratitude before walking to the door. Joel followed you out, and you looked at him curiously.

“Gotta make sure you get home safe.”

Your head rolled to the side, watching as he shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “What?”

“Joel, I’m staying right next door. You could see me go inside from your living room window.”

He just shook his head and looked beyond you to the water.

“t’s dark.”

Your chest fluttered with warmth, a smile on your lips growing past one you could deny. Let him have this one.

“Thanks, Joel. Thanks for the pizza and the wine and… stuff.” Now it was his turn to let you have this one. The stuff. The kiss. The multiple kisses. He didn’t make it a big deal, just rolled with the punches. You appreciated it.

You wanted to know what was next for the two of you. The feeling of your cores grazing one another set a fire in you that only Joel could put out.

You pondered whether or not to kiss him goodnight and find a lame excuse to try and thank him again for the wine bottle when you saw two pairs of headlights coming down the road.

“Shit,” you murmured under your breath, looking to Joel with a pained expression. He looked disappointed.

You didn’t say goodnight, you didn’t kiss him before you left, you just… left. You moved down Joel’s rickety wooden porch steps with haste, sneaking into the lakehouse through the garage door as your heart thrummed at a face pace. You felt like a child getting caught by your parents.

You didn’t know what to do with Joel’s pizza container and the wine. You could figure out an excuse for the pizza later, so you shoved it into the fridge, but definitely not the half-drank bottle of red wine. You double-checked that the cork was in there tight, and of course it was because Joel pushed it back in, but you couldn’t help but check because it was going to be stowed under your bed for safekeeping.

You changed out of Joel’s hoodie and into an oversized band tee, walking out of your bedroom with a book when your parents returned through the door.

“Hey, kiddo. You’re still up? ‘t’s past eleven.”

You try not to roll your eyes, biting down on the inside of your lip as you tightly nodded. “Yeah, I know. I stay up late a lot at school and stuff, working on papers or out with friends. Staying up past eleven isn’t that weird for me.”

You didn’t mean for there to be so much venom in your comment, but you weren’t a baby. Nearly every day at the lakehouse so far this summer has elicited a few don’t call me kid, I’m an adult, I make adult decisions, comments from you.

Your parents looked too tired to care, which somehow stung worse.

“Okay, sweetie, we’ll see you tomorrow morning. Your dad and I are headin’ to bed.”

Now you felt bad. You pursed your lips and nodded, putting your hands behind your back and resting them on your tailbone absentmindedly. This was the same pose Joel had you in tonight. You already wanted to go back there.

“Sorry, goodnight.” You whisper, seeing your dad give you a tired smile before patting your shoulder.

“Hey kiddo-” He paused at the nickname and took a breath. “Sorry.” You playfully smiled and shook your head. Go on.

“Do me a favor, grab the steaks out from the freezer and put them on a plate in the fridge. Wanna have Joel and Sarah over for dinner tomorrow night. Feel like I haven’t seen them all summer.”

Your face went ghastly blank, feeling yourself fall hollow like a collapsing building. If it weren’t for how tired your dad was, he would have seen right through you like a ghost. “You- Oh, you want to have them come by for dinner? I don’t think tomorrow’s gonna work. Sarah’s camping and-”

“Oh, well, Joel can still swing by for dinner. Need to eat up those steaks. Every time I open the freezer, they stare at me. They’re beggin’ me to eat them, it ain’t fair.”

You forced out a laugh, but of course, your father couldn’t tell. Just thought he made one hell of a zinger.

“So-So Joel over for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, kiddo. And don’t forget to take out the steaks. Love you.” He turned the corner down the hall, and then he was gone.

You sighed and lightly chewed at the skin around your thumbnail. Great. One big happy family dinner. And Joel.

---

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(idk why so many of my tags aren't working. Might make a notifications blog instead where you'd follow it and turn the notifications on and I'll only reblog my work on that account. ugh a problem for another day, okay ily ttyl I'm gonna go watch twilight)

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hysteria-things · 9 days

Text

TREEHOUSE

based off of this, this, this, & this

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!nate x virgin!sls!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: reminiscing your relationship with nate where it all started: in his treehouse.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, FLUFF, swearing, p in v, praising

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,181

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: day ONE of nate week!

so pumped😇

creaking from the wooden panels of nate’s treehouse sound from underneath your shoes. some would say treehouses aren’t for nineteen-year-olds, but your boyfriend will strongly disagree.

it still stands after almost two decades, hundreds of memories made here with him and your older brothers. it’s been a while since you’ve been up here, but even if he doesn’t admit it, you can tell nate still hangs out from how tidy it is.

“you still have the pirate hats.” you giggle, pointing to them neatly placed on a shelf above the small sofa he has against the wall.

each hat matched your personalities, with your names written in your favorite colors. they’re faded by now, but you can still make the writing out.

christopher. matthew. nicolas. nathan. y/n.

your brothers are wonderful with you dating their best friend because nate liked you for years. ever since you were children; and he never gave up on you.

summer break is a kid’s favorite time of year. the sun is shining, the nice weather, hanging out with your friends day by day. it’s great.

four boys bicker in front of the ladder, and a young y/n is sitting on the porch steps playing with her dolls.

“dude, just ask already!” chris argues, holding a fake pirate hook in his hand.

“yeah, what’s taking so long?” nick chimes in.

matt’s arms are crossed over his chest. “he’s got a little crush on our sister, that’s why.”

“i do not!” nate yells, eyepatch over his eye and his pirate hat lopsided. he stomps his feet in a tantrum-like manner. “girls probably don’t even like playing pirates!”

they bicker for seconds more, until matt’s had enough and pushes the boy toward you. he hesitates, but walks to the stairs. “hey, y/n!” he exclaims, taking a seat next to you.

you smile, setting your toys down. “hi, nate.”

“would you— um…” he turns to the triplets, and they motion him to hurry up. he sighs, looking back at you. “would you like to play pirates with us? there’s an extra hat.”

bringing your finger to your chin, you think and then nod. “sure! i’d love to play pirates!”

nate grins from ear to ear, grabbing your hand and leading you toward your siblings.

that’s not the only heirloom hidden in plain sight. the screws are still stuck in the wall where the NO GIRLS ALLOWED sign used to be until you guys started hanging out alone and he threw it away immediately.

there are still old decorations from previous years, like the spongebob blanket or the mario and luigi plushies. as he got older, though, the decorating became more mature.

another core memory is when he asked you to be his girlfriend right where you’re standing. well, he tried to ask, but he couldn’t get the words out.

“can i ask you something?” nate questions, refusing to make eye contact as he fidgets with the gaming controller in his hand.

you nod. “of course.”

“so, um… do you want to, uh—” he stammers as your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“what do you mean?” you giggle.

“um, y’know. do you want— uh, to be— um—”

“are you asking me to be your girlfriend, nate?” you ask, smirking while raising a brow.

his face heats up, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah.”

the sound from the small TV completely fades, your inner thoughts taking over instead. now, it’s nighttime, and the fairy lights in the treehouse make the room dimly lit.

your head rests on his chest, his heartbeat soothing to your ears.

even though you guys have been together for a while now, you’ve never done it. hell, you’re still a virgin. nate’s been patient with you every step of the way. “what’re you thinking about?” he asks.

shaking your head to snap out of it, you look up, already seeing him staring down at you. “nothing.”

he knows you’re lying, and patiently waits there until you sigh. “i’m ready.” you start as he listens intently. “i want to… have sex… with you.”

he smiles warmly, taking a piece of hair and placing it behind your ear. “are you sure?”

nodding, he then starts to lean into where his lips ghost yours. “yeah?” he whispers, your eyes set on his mouth, so badly wanting to kiss him.

the softness of his lips syncing with yours has your legs squeezed together. he leans more in, deepening the kiss while also laying you flat on the cushions. your knuckles turn white to how hard you’re gripping on his shoulders when he starts to remove your pants and underwear.

“you’re tense.” he points out, rubbing the outside of your thighs in a soothing motion. “relax.”

you didn’t realize how tense your body was until he pointed it out. taking a deep breath, he starts to untie his bottoms.

“breathe for me, okay?” he reassures, lining himself up before slowly moving his pelvis forward. it hurts for sure, but it’s more of a pressure feeling. “relax.” he says again, feeling your anxiety.

a pained moan leaves your lips once he’s in, and it just hits you that your childhood friend, who turned into a crush, and is now your boyfriend is inside of you. “you okay?”

you nod, taking his hand in yours. “i know you tell your brothers everything but—” he cuts himself off with a groan when his dick twitches, desperately wanting to move. he starts to thrust his hips slowly, low whines tickling from your throat. “for my own sake, don’t tell them about this.”

his thrusts get gradually faster, but they’re soft so he doesn’t hurt you in any way. the pain soon turns to pleasure, arms wrapping around his neck. he keeps asking if you’re okay every two minutes, so to shut him up you kiss him passionately.

“nate.” you exhale, licking your lips and lifting your head slightly to look at where you’re conjoined. his dick is coated with your juices, the slap of your thighs banging together.

“nathan.” you moan louder, throwing your head back and arching.

“you’re letting me fuck you so well.” he grunts when your walls clench around him. “you’re so pretty; i love you so much.”

your eyes widen in surprise. it could be the intensity of the moment, but that’s the first time he’s ever said those words. “i-i love you too.”

clenching again, your legs twitch with each movement of his hips. “i-i’m going to cum.”

he pecks your forehead. “go ahead, baby. you’re doing so good for me.”

you whimper, your orgasm flowing out of your pussy and onto his base. he fucks you a little more through your high, before pulling out and painting your stomach white.

whispering sweet nothings into your ear, he lays on top of you, rubbing his hands all over your body. “i meant what i said, by the way. that i love you.”

you smile, blushing at the same time. “so did i.”

that’s when you realized your relationship will only blossom from here, all because of this goddamn treehouse.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2 @sturnsjtop @luverboychris @yapperchris

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emma-frxst · 1 year

Text

Something in the Orange (part 1/3)

Pairing: Nathan Summers/ Cable x reader

Summary: after losing his long time partner and wife somewhere in time, Cable will stop at nothing until he finds her. Loosely based off Zach Bryan’s “something in the orange”.

Warnings: angst, language. (I think that’s all let me know if I missed anything)

A/n- love me some Cable. Was in the mood to do a mini series. Feedback is always appreciated! Thanks for reading!

Part 2 here

He greeted the dawn every morning with a lonely sigh and cup of black coffee in hand. Cable wasn’t sleeping much these days. Call it restlessness or old age, he didn’t care.

He sighed yet again as the old rocking chair creaked under his weight.

A cool breeze sent a chill down his spine, but the rising sun sent its warm rays to heat him.

The warmth of the sunlight reminded Nathan of her; everything did. He’d lost count of how many years it’d been, it didn’t matter though, every day felt like an eternity.

But I miss you in the mornings when I see the sun

Something in the orange tell me we’re not done

Before you were Nathan’s wife you were his long time partner, sliding through time together, taking names and kicking ass.

That was how he lost you though. The device he used to glide through the timeline malfunctioned, leaving you lost somewhere in the vastness of time. Cable always believed some ill-intentioned someone had tampered with it. The two of you had made your fair share of enemies throughout your timeline escapades.

Cable searched every crack and crevice of time trying to find you, called for you until his lungs gave out. But you never answered.

His device wore down over time and being stuck in the 21st century meant he didn’t have the technology to repair it to its full potential. So there he sat in his cabin in the woods, alone. He glanced over at the empty rocking chair next to him, anger and grief filling his chest.

Cable knew in his heart you were still out there. You were a survivor; someone who was fierce and untamed, and, albeit, bullheaded at times. That was one of the many reasons he married you. He’d find you, even if it took until the end of his days, he’d find you.

Your voice only trembles when you try to speak

Take me back to us dancing, this wood used to creak

Cable didn’t dance, but he did just this once only because you two were in the privacy of your living room and it was your favorite song.

You smirked at him, knowing he was actually enjoying himself.

“What?” You questioned him as his eyes weren’t leaving you, not even for a moment.

“Nothing” he smirked. “Just thinkin’ ‘bout marrying you one of these days.”

The biggest smile crossed your face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Cable replied, spinning you around.

“Well…” you spun back around into his embrace. “You’ve got yourself a deal Nathan Summers.”

It'll be fine by dusk light I'm telling you, baby

These things eat at your bones and drive your young mind crazy

When Cable did sleep, he was plagued by nightmares, often waking up in a panic about losing you.

It was painful when he moved through time, feeling the atoms of his being shifted as he slid through time. But the worst pain was watching your hand slip from his as you disappeared into God knows where. He tried going back in time to prevent it from ever happening. But each time he went back, you weren’t there. It’s like you were a ghost.

Cable awoke from a bad dream, your last words carved into his brain

Cable?!

That was all, just one word. His name. Instead of you whispering his name in a sweet, soft song, it was being cried out at the top of your lungs, panicked.

He rolled over to grab the unfinished beer from the nightstand. He chugged it, hoping it would help erase that memory, at least for the night.

A faint beeping interrupted the lonely silence that lingered.

It progressively got louder.

What the fu-? Cable muttered to himself

The temporal dial.

It was flashing red; A distress signal.

The year 2093.

It was her, Cable was positive.

He scrambled to put on his suit and gather his weapons. It had to be her. Had to be.

Tags: (tag list of open, send me an ask if you want to be tagged, removed or only tagged for certain characters.) @chromecutie @xenomorphique @evelyn120700 @nightriver99 @iamwarrenspeace @this-that-and-every-thing-else @hsk-puma @bungeewabbit @pianomad @lesbianstarkx @hazilyimagine-blog @super-darkcloudstudent @thehuntress26 @siren-lamented-vampire @mooleche @rovvboat @leo-writer @dandyqueen @nitemaremotionless @thewintersoldierswife

#cable x reader #Nathan summers x reader #mcu cable x reader #deadpool fanfiction #Deadpool 2 fanfiction #Nathan summers/ reader #mcu!cable #mine #kacceywrites

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dpimagines · 1 year

Text

The Sharpest Lives; Wade Wilson (feat. Nathan Summers) – Part 4 of 5

Sorry this took so long. It's actually been done for months at this point, but I didn't think part 5 was gonna be the last part and wanted to have six at least started before I published another chapter.

Same trigger warnings as past chapters. Let me know if I need to add any.

tag list: @peculiar-persephone @fuckyouandtheboatyoucamein @yomama-umbridge @dee-vn @ghostlyvenus-selfships

“Y/N, Y/N… Y/N, c’mon… Fuck, why d’ya gotta be so fucking cute when you’re asleep?”

“You think I’m cute?” you sleepily mumble. Yesterday slowly seeps back into your memory. “Can- Can I please have-“

“Breakfast first,” he says.

“That is breakfast,” you whine in protest.

“That’s where you’re wrong. Made a phone call. Cinnamon rolls with extra icing, right?”

“Phone call? To-“

“Xavier’s.”

You jolt, suddenly fully awake.

“They’re gonna be looking for me now.”

“They already were, at Wade’s request. They’ve stopped because they know you’re with your other soulmate.”

“Can’t wait for that news to get back to him,” you scoff.

“Eat,” he insists. “Quickly, we have a problem.”

He points to the TV. Wade and some kid you realize has to be Russell are going to…

“Oh, fuck!” you leap up from the bed, scarfing down a couple of the cinnamon rolls before heading to the bathroom. You frantically search for a spare toothbrush, giving up and settling for a few rounds of mouthwash. You steal some of his deodorant before heading back to the room and throwing on your bra and jeans from yesterday. “Sorry I slept in so late, I-“

“You really didn’t, it’s only ten,” he reassures you. “We’ve just got shit to do.”

“Yeah, we gotta get them out, you should’ve gotten me up sooner!”

“What?”

“What do you mean, what?” you ask.

“My first priority is killing Edward Fredricksen.”

“That’s your soulmate, and that kid will just end up killing somebody else’s family if we don’t help him,” you argue.

“Fuck, are you always this right all the time?” He sounds like he’s complaining, but you take it as a compliment. You put your boots back on.

“Let’s go,” you say.

“I would’ve let you sleep longer if I knew you’d be ready this fast,” he mumbles, and you realize he’s still sorting through his weapons. He settles for one particularly large gun, as well as a couple of pistols he keeps holstered.

“It’s an emergency, of course I didn’t dawdle,” you reply. “Better get something for Wade, too.”

“What would he like?”

“Probably what you’ve got strapped to your back… Would settle for anything, though. He’s resourceful.”

“Got it,” he says, putting on a thigh holster and sliding an additional handgun in there. “Let’s go. Wait, you- Never mind…”

“What?”

“Was gonna ask if you needed a weapon. Dumb question.”

“You were smart enough to catch yourself,” you remind him, taking his hand and pulling him out of the motel room. He locks the door behind you both and you head out.

The drive to the prison is strategy talk, mostly Nathan insisting you hang back while you insist you take the lead.

“I can handle it!” you shout at the same time, and despite your bickering, you both laugh.

“I’m serious, anybody who gets in our way will be fucking confetti,” you promise. “And maybe a few more of those pigs while I’m at it!”

“Same here,” he argues. “I almost don’t even wanna bring you, it’s too dangerous.”

“I’ll just drink some of Wade’s blood if I get hurt,” you remind him. “I’ll be alright.”

“Just stay behind me until you see him, okay?”

“Ugh, you’re not budging.”

“Me budging is you being here in the first place. If I had it my way, you’d still be asleep!”

“You’re sweet, Nathan, but… I’ve survived this long, give me some credit.”

He groans.

“You shouldn’t have to… He-”

“Not his fault. My, uh… My father’s kinda the one who got me into this life. Powers manifested early, and even once Xavier’s found me… He would take me out for the weekend and… Well, the folks down at Sister Margaret’s, they didn’t take too kindly to some mutie stealing all the jobs. I explained the situation, though, and they-” You chuckle. “They were like fucking coyotes, man. Ripped him to pieces.”

“I was wondering why they seemed to be sorta… Different. That kinda place, don’t really expect them to take too kindly to women. Guess they have a bit of a soft spot for you, watching you grow up and all that.”

He sounds almost envious. You suppose if he was from this time, maybe he’d have been a regular there. Perhaps he wishes he was the one to save you, to dry your tears and keep you safe as you got older, not pushing you or grooming you but preparing you for the future. Holding you through the pain of what Wade was going through, maybe preventing him from going through it in the first place.

But that’s just not how things are.

You arrive at the prison, and you’re already dropping the outer layer of guards. You watch their helmets pop off of their exploding heads like the lids of glass soda bottles.

Pop, pop, pop…

“Don’t wear yourself out,” Nathan nervously chuckles.

“Just getting warmed up,” you chirp.

“Damn, that is really…”

“Terrifying?”

“I was trying to find a classier way to say sexy,” he mumbles.

“Aw, really? Thank you! Let’s head in.” You grab his hand, pulling him along eagerly.

He uses explosives to create an… Alternative entrance. He scans the inside before running off.

“Hey! Hey! Not all of us have a sixth sense!” you cry out, annoyed at being left behind. A guard rushes you both, and you put him down, opting for all the blood to leave his brain instead of the other way around.

“Bionic eye,” Nathan corrects. You continue to take down the guards, working outwards from you both until there’s none left in sight. “So much for hanging back.”

“You’re too slow, old man,” you snark in return, but you take his hand.

“Weren’t you the one struggling to keep up before?”

“That’s just ‘cause I was still getting warmed up. I told you.”

“Y/N M/N!” Wade scolds, striding over with Russell in tow.

“That’s pretty. M/N. That’s one of the names I had on the list for Hope. Aaliyah vetoed it, though,” Nathan mumbles to you, and you smile.

“And who’s this?!”

“Who do you think?” you retort, and Wade shrinks a little, before putting on his mask. Not the literal one, but the cocky, humorous facade.

“Hot damn,” Wade sighs. “That’s a lot of cream for your twinkie.”

Nathan’s resting scowl intensifies as he glares at Wade.

“Wade Wilson, nice to meet you,” Wade snaps out of his fantasies to introduce himself, extending a hand. Nathan shakes it, still glaring.

“Nathan Summers.”

“Y’know, I always thought I wasn’t the best fit for somebody with daddy issues. You make a lot of sense.”

“I could say the same thing,” you scoff, thinking of Wade’s own problems with his father.

“I’d say you fit the role pretty well, too, seeing as you ran off when things got hard,” Nathan snarls. You let go of his hand, hurt. “Oh, no, doll, I didn’t mean you.” He reclaims your hand.

“Doll?! What are you-“

“46,” Nathan stops him, but he can’t help but snicker.

“Uh, guys? What exactly is going on here?” Russell asks.

“I’m gonna kill your old headmaster and you’re gonna go to Xavier’s to enjoy the rest of your childhood,” you dryly inform him.

“Oh… Okay.”

“Solid plan, except for the part where you kill somebody!” Wade squeals.

“Are you kidding? I just killed countless people to get to you, and I already accepted the job from Weasel. That headmaster guy has a crazy high bounty on his head.”

“I don’t like it when you kill people,” Wade insists.

“Then you’re a fuckin’ hypocrite!” Nathan argues. “She’s good at it, and it’s what she wants to do!”

“It’s dangerous!”

“She’s dangerous!”

That shuts Wade up. He looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. Having seen you at your most vulnerable, he forgets what you’re capable of. It’s about time he had a reminder.

“Let’s get outta here, guys,” you remind them, making your great escape.

When you get back to the hotel room, you sit at a stool at the small counter near the kitchenette. Nathan plunks down beside you.

“You know, what you did in there… I never doubted you, but damn. You’re one hell of a woman.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you reply, after giggling at his compliment.

You feel something hot bubble up in your stomach. Jealousy. You both turn to Wade.

“I’m sorry, would you not feel a little jealous if some silver fox daddy just strolled in and started chatting me up?!”

“Uh, there’s a child present,” you remind him.

“I don’t even know what half of that meant,” Russell mumbles, and you crack up a little.

“Good,” you say, stepping down from the stool and approaching him. You crouch down to meet his level; he’s sitting on the edge of the bed. “What do you like to watch?”

“Watch?”

“Y’know, on TV?” you clarify.

“They let us watch Disney movies, sometimes, if we’re good… But they usually end up turning those off before we’re even halfway through. They say they have bad themes about rebelling against authority.”

“Let’s see what’s on,” you chirp. “Or, uh, here…” You open up the Disney+ app on your phone. “Pick whatever you want off of here and just play it. All the Disney movies you could ever want are on there. If you get bored of that, let me know. I’ve got other apps with movies and stuff.”

“Really?” Russell has so much hope and fear in his eyes. You can’t wait to get him to Xavier’s.

“Really,” you confirm, and he grins. You squeeze his shoulder gently before turning back to your soulmates. “So, I guess our next step is to take him to Xavier’s. They should be able to pick him up from here. Is it okay if I give them our location, Nathan?”

He nods.

“Cool, I’ll text Ellie,” you tell them both. “But, uh, I’m gonna let him finish at least one movie, first.”

“I’ll text her,” Wade offers.

“Awesome,” you say. “Could you check the news while you’re at it? See if they got our faces or Nathan’s truck?”

“On it,” he replies.

“What can I do?” Nathan asks.

“Just keep standing there and looking handsome,” you flirt, and he gets a good chuckle out of that. You sit next to Russell. “Ooh, I love this movie. Here, let’s sit against the headboard, I’ll hold the phone.”

You pull out your Popsocket, and the boy’s eyes are the size of golfballs. He’d been carefully clutching each side of the device.

You keep the phone perched between your fingers as Beauty and the Beast unfolds. A rollaway bed is rolled in, and you suppose a retrieval team from Xavier’s won’t be coming until morning.

“The prince’s beast form was more handsome,” Russell complains.

“I agree,” you reply. “Wanna watch another?”

He yawns.

“Can I… Tomorrow?”

“Hell yeah,” you tell him. “Get some rest.”

Russell gets on the glorified cot, pulling the blankets on top of himself.

“Best we can do, kid. Sorry,” Nathan apologizes.

“No, this is nice,” he insists. “At least it’s all mine, and-” Russell stops himself. “It’s good.”

Wade and Nathan look at the bed, you, and then each other.

“If you two wanna quit your staring contest and get on the bed, that’d be nice. Just lay on either side of me if you two still hate each other, or whatever the fuck is going on.”

“I don’t hate him,” they say in unison, looking at each other with surprise. You scoff. They get into bed, and the three of you struggle with the twisted comforter until you’re all covered.

You find yourself holding on to Wade’s arm, leg hitched up over his hip. Nathan spoons you, cheek pressed against your back.

“Thanks for not, uh… Drinking any more of Francis’s blood today. I appreciate that,” he says softly.

“I just got caught up in everything and forgot. I’m… I’m sorry for the stuff I said yesterday,” you reply at the same volume.

“It wasn’t you. It was him.”

“Getting some of his traits doesn’t mean I’m not responsible. That’s like someone blaming alcohol for the shitty things they say and do while drunk,” you remind him.

“It’s okay, honeybun. Do you need to hear me say I forgive you? Because I do, I did as it was happening. I love you,” he promises.

“I love you, too, Wade.” You start to feel a little guilty about what happened with Francis.

“Who’d you kill, baby?” he asks. “You didn’t think I didn’t know, did you? I know they deserved it. Whatever they said, or did, it… Hurt. A lot.”

“It was Francis,” you admit, starting to tear up.

“Oh, that’s it?”

“You’re not mad?”

“I’ve been telling you to let me get rid of him for ages. I would’ve preferred it be me to do it, but, hey. It’s okay. What did he say to you?”

“He said… It’s not important now,” you say quietly.

His other hand reaches around, messing with your hair.

“It bothered you, that makes it important.”

“He said a lot of shit. But, uh, what made me lose my temper…” You sigh. “He said you loved her more, and that that’s why I let her die.”

Wade’s hand leaves you, curling into a fist. You feel his frustration course through you. Nathan holds you tighter. He drops his hand, letting it rest on his stomach.

“That sick fuck. That’s not even remotely true, you know that, right?”

You nod, but survivor’s guilt still boils inside of you.

“It’s not. That fucking asshole, I wish we could bring him back just to kill him again.”

“You two. As much as I appreciate that you’re having this sorely needed heart-to-heart, we’ve got a big day tomorrow. Let’s get some sleep,” Nathan reminds you both. Just the word “sleep” makes your eyelids feel heavy.

“Yeah,” Wade agrees. “It’s not true. It’s not true at all. None of it. Fucking piece of fucking-” Wade sighs. “I’m so glad you’re alright. Physically, I mean.”

You yawn, afterwards nuzzling your way into a cozy spot against Wade’s shoulder.

“It can only get better from here,” you mumble.

#nathan summers x reader #wade wilson x reader #polyamorous imagine #deadpool x reader #cable x reader #multiple trigger warnings apply #mmf imagine #m/m/f imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #x men fanfiction #x men imagine #multichapter

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rafecameronsslxt · 1 year

Text

Pretty

Rafe Cameron x Virgin! Reader

Synopsis: A sweet girl falling for a man like Rafe Cameron leads to nefarious gazes as you and Rafe walk out sweaty and red lipstick covered on his neck.

Warnings: Thigh riding, slight corruption?, Angst at the end.

A/N: Making a part two because why not? Also, the request fan fictions will be out tomorrow.

An hour before your parent's event, your brother was nowhere to be seen. It was the most significant advancement for their company to expand and aggrandize. More or less, Rose asked you to find Rafe, and knowing he was with your brother, you ran in your ruby-red Christian Louboutins if running was concluded to waddling in the Country Club, all eyes, failing to look at their girlfriends and to you instead. Most girls give you dirty looks, their eyes falling on your body. Having everyone stare at you was never intentional, but you also never noticed.

There they sat in casual clothes, talking with each other. “Nathan, our parents need us to be there. Where is your suit?” You knitted your brows together. “We’re living precariously,” Nathan said with a lively tone as Rafe snorted, receiving amused looks from both of them. You sigh at the childish behavior. You shift on your heels, becoming uncomfortable in the sun's warmth, illuminating the highlighter and Chanel red lipstick. You bite your lower lip, looking at Rafe, who has barely said a word to you as usual.

Anytime you were around, he’d get quiet, unwilling to look at you. “We’ll go.” Rafe glanced at Nathan, who stood up, leaving you behind to catch up. You were practically just the younger sister in every situation because, as people said, you were entirely sweet and innocent though it was true.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the man before you, watching his tanned arms flex almost too perfectly in the grey and black shirt, showing off every vein in his forearm while he adjusted his grey backward hat. You saw Rafe every day. Whether it was at your house or his or during your morning jog, he was always in your line of sight.

You once asked your parents what they thought about the Cameron boy, and they worded their sentence, carefully trying not to bash him as your parents were good friends of Rose and Ward Cameron, but to say the least, they are not fond of him and wished your brother wouldn’t hang around with such bad influence as Rafe Cameron, so why would you want a man like him? A man who would only break your pure heart.

We arrived at the house, but you had to get going quickly. You couldn’t help but feel deep sadness as you walked out the door. Did Rafe hate you? You called Kiara to pick you up, hoping she would advise you. You barely had any boy experience, and it shames you because you’re nineteen and dated only one guy just for him to drop you for another girl, but he quickly got put in his place by your brother and Rafe…

“Doesn’t even GLANCE AT YOU! You’re drop-dead gorgeous. Who couldn’t like you? But, wait, who is he?” Kiara’s jaw dropped, and she gestured her hands all over.

You smile at Kie’s reaction but tauten as you’ve been edging around Rafe’s name. Kiara would freak out if she knew it was Rafe, you fancy. “I don’t- remember his name.” You rub your neck nervously, stuttering over words. “What?” Her lip arches in confusion as she parks her car, and we get out. You avoid the comment. “Ok… Since you don’t want to reveal the mystery man, I must find my parents.” She pulls you in for a short-lived hug and disappears into the crowd, leaving you alone.

You go to the front, lifting the red floral summer dress in hopes you won't fall as your parents start their speech, causing everyone to go quiet. They talk about how grateful and happy they are to make it where they are, but a fragrance envelops you, cedar and Caledonian sandalwood, and to your knowledge of cologne, it's from Chanel, and the scent entices you to turn your head only to be met by a pristine Rafe. His towering body glances down at you, feeling flustered. You avert your eyes back at your overjoyed parents.

Once they announce who they're partnering with, the mass breaks out into a cheer, and you clap, smiling, proud of your parents, and everyone begins to split into groups again. Your bones feel strained, and butterflies appear in your stomach, only for you to stumble backwards, landing in Rafe’s arms, then moving to hold your waist. “I’m so sorry- I’ve been really uncoordinated today.” You give him a thin smile, but the smile fades, deterring you from thinking optimistically about his reaction and the atmosphere surrounding you and Rafe. It wasn’t anger or enmity, but it felt tense and something else you couldn’t place as he leaned down to your ear, his breath light. “I’m going to ruin you, pretty girl.” Your body stiffens as he places a feathery kiss on your red lips, yet a bright red stain marks his. Rafe smirks at your cherry face, but his blue eyes are a dark sea, and his jaw sharpens.

Rather than leaving, he intertwines his hand with yours, taking you to an extensive vacant room crammed with spare decorations and chairs. You don’t realize you're holding your breath until Rafe brings you onto his thigh. Your heart is palpitating, and butterflies have become aching for him. The room is cold, making you shudder. Rafe’s gaze is piercing as you try to get comfortable, but wiggling around on his thigh is futile and instead stirs a quiet moan from you.

You feel embarrassed. “You know how pretty you look like this? You know how long I’ve wanted you?” His low voice mumbles into your lips, and he places his large hands on your waist, pulling you farther up his thigh. You relax into his soothing touch, but the nervousness doesn’t leave. You’ve never had sex or have done this before; Rafe guides your hips back and forth, creating friction between his thigh and your clothed clit. You whimper against his lips as you start to move into the rhythm of his hands.

You feel selfish for letting him do all the work, so you bring your hand to his tangible erection and start palming him through his dress pants. His size makes your eyes widen, Rafe was a big guy, but his length was impressive. “Fuck- you don’t have to do that, pretty girl,” Rafe grunts out while your movements against his thigh become swifter. “I want to.” You moan into the sickening sweet yet dirty kiss as he slips his tongue into your mouth, greedily accepting it. You gasp, pressing your body harder into his thigh but keeping your languid pace on his cock. Your legs feel weaker as pressure builds up in your stomach, and the throbbing initiates burning in your lower abdomen. “Rafe-” You wrap an arm around his neck, and your face is hidden in the nape, mouth open and pressing your plump lips to his Adam's apple. His hands grip your waist indefinitely to leave a red imprint.

“My good, pretty girl. Only for me, hmm?” He rasps out through grunts. You nod; words would be incomprehensible in the condition you are in. Edging release until the pure gravelly voice of Rafe pushes you over the boundary, officially connecting yourself with the Cameron man in more ways than you ever thought would happen. You are spasming around nothing; adrenaline is still coursing through the white splotches as you pant. Despite Rafe not receiving much, he has a dazed look in his eye, and you lay your forehead on his. But you see hesitation cover his relaxed complexion.

What are we? The question is a broken record in your head. You didn’t want a hookup with Rafe. You trust he won’t take advantage of you, but you hold him to higher standards. Rafe would never do that to you. Yet, Rafe must see your wheels turning because he reassures you. “I like you, pretty girl.” His thumb hovers over your lips, outlining them until you recognize the red lipstick gleaming on his neck, lips, and cheeks. Your jaw drops. Your widened eyes look to Rafe’s calmed ones. You put your hand under his jaw, lift his head, and take a picture of all the marks to show him, to which he shrugs. “Your lipstick is smeared too, pretty girl. There’s no bathroom, so we’ll just have to go out.” You wobbly stand up from his thigh and timidly raise a brow at the noticeable strain in his black dress pants.

He stands up, unzipping his pants. “Rafe-” He doesn’t answer. Instead, he brings down a hand and starts rearranging, tucking his hard-on under the waistband of his boxers. “Let’s go, pretty girl,” Rafe says carelessly, slinging his arm around your shoulder, not wasting time on your answer or pleas.

It’d be an understatement to say all eyes were on you. Everyone criticizes you with sharp eyes, and you decide you are lucky you aren’t under eighteen because your parent's face drops, livid at the sight of Rafe’s neck and your puffy lips. Kiara is stunned, and your protective brother begins to walk you out, with Rafe following. “I can take her home, man.” Nathan is coldly stern as Rafe leans down to kiss you softly and wave him off. You take off the ruby-red pumps, placing them on the floor of Nathan’s truck.

“Why Rafe? Rafe Cameron, of all people, you had to get involved with him. What changed in the last hours to have you walking out like that!? Do you realize how pissed Mom will be? Jesus, did you guys seriously have sex? You berated me for barely making it, but you could barely stay and got my friend's dick wet instead.”

“We didn’t have sex! You can sleep with fifty girls, but I get with Rafe, which becomes a problem. What the fuck, Nate!” You’re not one to scream, but the circumstances quickly overwhelm you. A disgusted look holds on your face, not at Nathan but yourself. You throw your hands into the air, pinching the bridge of your nose, tears threatening to fall because of how embarrassed you’ve become of the situation, not weighing the consequences or reactions.

The orange sky had slipped away to a dark starry night, and few cars were on the road. The rest of the drive had been eerily silent until Nathan pulled into the driveway, and we finally reached the front door.

“Rafe is not a good guy. We know this. You. Know. This. But if you like him as your brother and friend, I support you, and I’m sorry for being a dick.” You can’t explain how much you love your brother for comforting you and being open to your relationship with Rafe. Nate tightly wraps his arms around your waist as if he is losing a piece of you, but he is open-minded to the new chapter that will begin in your life, with or without the people around you.

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