For Hire

BY : WolverMean
Category: X-men Comics > Het - Male/Female
Dragon prints: 1270
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Marvel characters or the Marvel Universe mentioned within this story and I'm not making any money off of it. This is strictly for fun and not profit.

Don’t kiss me

if you’re afraid

of thunder.

My life is a storm.

- Anita Krizzan

 


 

“I’m not fucking leaving without Doug McKenzie!”

Your eyes are hard, your face twisted in fury as I try n’ force you out the door. You’re holdin’ his brother Bob in your arms, an’ the damn cat is a peaceful as can be, purrin’ an’ happy just to be there.

Fuckin’ thing must have a screw loose.

I mean, shit, your crappy house is on fire an’ spread to your neighbour’s place, an’ there’s a dead girl inside, waitin’ to get all burned up. I’m kinda surprise you’re not tryin’ to beat the shit out of me to be honest.

“Jesus Christ, tiger, we don’t have time for this!” I yell, manhandlin’ you as much as I can without hurtin’ you. I know you’re strong as hell an’ could prob’ly kick my ass, but we gotta get a move on. “Just get in the fuckin’ truck!”

Your neighbour, Mr. Mazur, is already loadin’ boxes an’ boxes of Polish vodka into the back. His brother makes it back in the home country. It’s good shit but I didn’t tell the man to run into his burnin’ home an’ grab it all an’ take up room in the fuckin’ SUV. The back of his cheap dress shirt is smoulderin’, havin’ come too close to the flames, I’m supposin’.

“No!” You plant your feet an’ refuse to be moved. “I won’t leave without him!”

Jesus Christ on a fuckin’ oyster cracker.

I ain’t a nice guy.

I don’t do good things for people.

I sure as fuck don’t run into houses that are on fuckin’ fire in order to save a bastard of a cat that hates my fuckin’ guts.

But goddamn it, you’re on the verge of becomin’ my mate an’ I guess I need to score brownie points ‘cause the idea of the dead girl an’ burnin’ your house down seemed to drop my fuckin’ score back to zero.

It’s like, Jesus, can’t you just be on my side for once? Like, one goddamn time?

I shove you out the door an’ you squawk angrily, but I slam it in your face before you can give me an earful an’ run back towards your bedroom. I scented the thing before the firebomb an’ he was hidin’ under your bed.

Smoke’s not too bad, but the flames are getting’ hotter an’ brighter as they snack on your joke of a kitchen.

I manage to get to your bedroom an’ flip the mattress to snatch up the asshole cat (maybe we got more in common than I thought—heh) who immediately starts clawin’ an’ bitin’ at any piece of flesh he can reach. It don’t hurt much; in my line of work, I’ve experienced a lot worse but it’s annoying as fuck.

“I sit in front!” Mazur says as I come out the door. “Motion sickness!”

He makes a vomitin’ motion with his hands. I almost fuckin’ lose my mind.

I don’t fuckin’ care an’ I say as much as open the back door of the Escalade an’ slide in. I thrust shitty Doug McKenzie at you just as Ryan hits the gas. The car lurches into motion an’ gunshots start piercin’ the air.

“We’ve been made, Mr. Creed.” Ryan says, like I don’t have fuckin’ ears or some shit.

I only hope they didn’t see you or all this drama was for naught. See? I can use fancy words n’ shit.

“Well, fuckin’ step on it!” I shout, shovin’ you to the floor of the SUV.

Mazur surprises me when he shoves a C7A2 assault rifle into my hands. It’s a goddamn beaut. I glance up at him; there’s a wide smile under his greying moustache. There are more guns scattered around his feet, crammed into the footwell an’ I can’t help but be fuckin’ impressed.

“Pruszków mafia,” he says, as he clicks off the safety on his. “In Canada witness protection program, yeah?”

“You keepin’ these in your house?” I ask. How the fuck did he get them from the Canadian military? This is Canadian Forces shit an’ ain’t easy to get.

He touches the side of his nose an’ gives me a wink. “Connections, eh?”

All is forgiven about the vodka. Fuck, I’ll even buy this dude a new goddamn cab if that’s what he wants. Oh, yeah. Your neighbour’s livelihood was a bit of collateral damage I wasn’t expectin’.

“Shit,” I admire the weapon in my hand. It’s new an’ shiny. I like ‘em shiny. “You need a job now your cab’s done in?”

“Can you talk about this shit later?” You’re furious as you glare up at me from the car well, two cats clutched to your chest. “How about telling me what the fuck is going on?”

More gunshots ring out, pingin’ as they hit the back of the SUV an’ take out the passenger side mirror. I push your head back down, outta the line of sight.

“Hold on a sec, tiger.”

Ryan slides the window down an’ I take aim.

Oooh, I tell you, ain’t nothin’ better than shootin’ off a gun—though sex is a pretty close second.

Shootin’ a gun an’ sex are kinda the same, if you think about it: anyone can do it, but it takes skill to do it well. You can’t just get handsy or point an’ shoot ‘cause neither of those get results. A gun needs to be like a lover; it needs to be pliant an’ adaptable in your hands an’ you gotta know where the sweet spot is if you want it to go off right.

An’ if you finger it correctly, it’ll explode an’ send someone straight to heaven.

Ryan whips us ‘round a corner an’ I hear you let out the most marvellous fuckin’ set of expletives I’ve heard. Goddamn, you’re a woman after my own heart. No wonder my beast wants you so fuckin’ bad.

Shit, I want you real fuckin’ bad but high-speed-shoot-‘em-ups aren’t the best place for gettin’ frisky—trust me on that shit. Once was enough for me an’ I consider it a lesson learned.

Fuck, do I love the sound an’ noise of guns goin’ off an’ tires screechin’ on the asphalt. Mazur tosses me another magazine an’ we both let ‘er rip. The wind whippin’ my hair around an’ the smell of the smoke an’ rubber burnin’—shit, it’s enough to make me hard an’ it ain’t helpin’ that you’re crouched at my feet, your scent fillin’ the car.

It’s a mix of frustration, anger, fear, an’ just a l’il bit of arousal. You’re a fuckin’ saucy minx an’ if I weren’t tryin’ the kill the bastards who’re tryin’ to kill you, I’d mount you like a flat screen T.V.

Mazur manages to hit a tire at the same time I nail the windshield, takin’ out their driver. The SUV hooks to the right before catchin’ a guardrail an’ flippin’ off down the steep drop to some small creek below. Ain’t no comin’ back from that shit.

Goddamn, I love Canada an’ the precipitous plunges they have by the side of the road. “One hundred foot drop? Put up a fuckin’ guardrail. That’ll stop some fuckin’ hoser from doin’ a swan dive. Now let’s go for some double doubles.”

“Get a run on that plate, kid?” I ask as I come back into the car. The window zips up silently an’ I catch Ryan’s eyes in the mirror.

“Sent it off,” he replies in a clipped tone. “Waiting for confirmation, sir.”

“Nearest Wal Mart,” I tell him an’ he nods curtly.

He’s a good kid, Ryan. Smart. Fuckin’ awesome driver.

Well, good by my standards, which is sure goin’ to be a whole helluva lot different n’ yours. He follows my orders without too many questions an’ don’t talk back much. He’s a feral too. Ain’t gotta healin’ factor, but his senses are pretty sharp. Makes him an excellent beta.

You slide onto the seat next to me, droppin’ the cats on the floor. They immediately cram themselves under your seat. There’s a fine sheen of sweat on your face an’ your heart’s beatin’ like a death metal backbeat.

The slap is unexpected but it don’t upset me. I don’t stop the second one but I catch your wrist before the third can land. “That’s enough, tiger.”

You snatch your hand back an’ fling yourself back in the seat, arms crossed, breath comin’ hard. You’re pissed, but at least I got you your damn cat. That’s gotta count for something, maybe even get Sabey Baby some sugar at least.

Okay, maybe the plan wasn’t the best idea but I was runnin’ on fumes an’ outta time. ‘Sides, you coulda said somethin’ at anytime instead of keepin’ your yap shut; though I sure as hell couldn’t get you to shut the fuck up when Ryan showed up with the dead girl.

 

~*~*~

 

Six Hours Earlier

 

“Well, how they fuck are they supposed to find your body if there ain’t no body?” I roared in your face, your loose hair liftin’ away from your shoulders.

You were unmoved, arms crossed, lookin’ at me like I was goddamn Harvey Weinstein or some shit. I still wasn’t fully recovered from the bullets I’d taken the previous day, though your nursin’, food, and sleep had helped. It just hadn’t been enough to get me to one hundred percent because Ryan had shown up in the mornin’, roused me outta bed an’ presented me with a yellow envelope full of pictures of you livin’ your life: goin’ to school, goin’ to work, comin’ home.

Whoever was tryin’ to kill you wanted to let you know that you’d been found.

I sure as shit wasn’t gonna let anythin’ happen to you, so I came up with this idea: burn house down, body inside. Body identified as you. You get new identity thanks to my connections. Problem solved.

You didn’t have a fuckin’ problem until the goddamn body arrived.

Your first question: “Did you kill her, Mr. Creed?” (Back to that shit now. Mr.Creed, like I’m your dad’s work buddy. Still, it’s kinda sexy)

Your second question: “Then what the fuck happened to her?” (Fire)

Your third question: “A house fire?” (No. Burned alive in an alley. To be clear: not by me)

Your fourth question: “Who was she?” (Unknown)

Your fifth question: “Where did you get her?” (Best if you don’t know)

Your sixth question: “There’s no way anyone will believe she’s me.” (Dental records, re: connections)

Your grand statement: “This is bullshit; I’m not fucking doing it. This thing with her body … I can’t.”

So I roared in your face an’ you got all hissy about bodies an’ human rights an’ emotions an’ blah blah fuckin’ blah.

You’re a goddamn nurse. You’ve seen dead shit before an’ now ain’t the time to be queasy an’ I say as much, gettinn’ in your face—and you lose your fuckin’ mind, sayin’ shit like that’s not the point an’ fuck you, you fucking bastard; all the shit I love to hear when it’s comin’ from that saucy mouth of yours.

Fuck me; there was a lot of yellin’, some screamin’, some kissin’ an’ a little over the clothes action before we went back to the fightin’. We threw some stuff an’ made out some more before Ryan got sick of waitin’ an’ did the damn thing.

 

~*~*~

 

Back to the Now

 

So really, it ain’t like you should be mad at me. You should be mad at Ryan. An’ I sure as fuck had no idea your place was made from fuckin’ construction paper.

Sure, we wasn’t exactly prepared, an’ sure, we barely managed to grab some of your shit, an’ sure, Mazur’s place went up, an’ sure, his cab’s now in Dispatch Heaven, but you’re alive ain’tcha? Ain’t that the most important part?

Christ, by the way you’re actin’, bein’ alive isn’t makin’ you happy in the slightest.

You still ain’t talkin’ to me by the time we glide into the Wal Mart parkin’ lot. You ain’t said shit about this plan too, so fuck knows how big of a tantrum you’re gonna have—or how ol’ Sabe the Babe’s gonna haveta calm you down. I’m willin’ to sacrifice by body to the cause.

Ryan tosses me the keys as you an’ I go to the RV I keep stashed here for emergencies.

Yeah, I own an RV that I park in a Wal Mart lot. No one gives a good goddamn how long it’s there as long as you move it every few weeks an’ it’s the perfect place to lay low for a few hours while shit cools down.

The kid an’ Mazur go to the store with instructions to get a cat carrier, cat food, litter an’ a box, clothes an’ food for the rest of us. Me n’ you, we gotta keep a bit of a lower profile, so we’re gonna hide out ‘til we can get to the penthouse. That’s still safe at least.

Bob an’ Doug McKenzie skitter under the table as soon as you place ‘em down. Their hearts are still goin’ like mad, but yours seems to have calmed somewhat, which is nice. It makes my beast happy that you’re no longer in fight or flight mode. It makes me happy, too.

“So, what the fuck happened back there?” you ask, finally deigning to speak to me. See, another fancy word! I’m like a regular dictionary an’ shit.

I take a step closer to you an’ you don’t move away, so I reach up and tuck a stray hair behind your ear. Reminds me of the night I first touched you, how I’d brushed your hair back before I left the theatre.

“He found you, tiger,” I say. “Hitmen showed up just as we were leavin’. It was serendipitous, I guess.”

You let out a heavy sigh an’ turn your cheek into my touch. “Fucking asshole doesn’t even have the guts to kill me himself,” you say softly. “Is your plan really gonna work?”

My hand cups the back of your neck an’ you tilt your head back. I can see your entire face now. You look tired, defeated, an’ sad. I don’t like that.

Instead of answerin’, I kiss you. You respond immediately, body archin’ into mine like a cat’s, your arms around my neck. Your mouth is hot, your tongue wet an’ slick an’ you feel so good under my hands.

It’s been days since you spanked my ass like a redheaded stepchild an’ weeks since we’d fucked. I want you so bad an’ if the way you’re pluckin’ at my clothes is any indication, you want me too.

I can feel my mark on your neck throbbin’ like crazy an’ I can’t help but flick my tongue over it. It’s callin’ to me. You groan, tilting your head so I can nuzzle it, suckin’ on it like a lollipop.

I gotta bite you again. I need to bite you again, make you mine. I shouldn’t ask ‘cause I’m not that kinda fuckin’ guy. I’m a badass moutherfucker who just takes what he wants, but I can’t seem to do this, not without you tellin’ me you want it.

“Tiger,” I growl against your flesh. “Do you want this? Do you want me?”

I’m holdin’ fire in my hands; you’re plain burnin’ me, but I can’t get enough of it—of you. You are the inferno I’m desperate to be consumed by.

“Yes, Victor,” you breathe, your hands tangled in my hair. “Please.”

I can feel it in you an’ my heart’s pumpin’ wildly in my chest, my beast ready to pounce, ready to make you mine forever. I can’t help but think of when you’d tied me to your bed, each stroke of the belt carefully calculated before you brought it down on my flesh.

Jesus, the power you had over me—an’ I couldn’t do fuck all about it. I don’t think I would’ve even if I fuckin’ could’ve. I want you to have that control over me, to bring me back down if I go to far. You’ve shown me how capable you are of handlin’ me, of tamin’ the beast within.

I fuckin’ need you.

My teeth slide in effortlessly, the skin breakin’ with a wonderful pop an’ you groan, your hips rutting forward. I move you to the edge of the bed an’ sit, pullin’ you down so you straddle my thigh as I suck an’ lap at the blood flowin’ from your beautiful flesh.

You’re lettin’ out these little sexy growls as you ride my thigh, your fingers diggin’ into my shoulders. The scent you’re givin’ off is so fuckin’ delectable; I can smell the slick beginnin’ to build between your legs.

Your hips keep movin’ an’ I keep suckin’ an’ soon, you’re trembling against me, cryin’ out my name as you come. The surge of your orgasm makes your blood taste sweeter to the point where I can’t take anymore an’ pull away from your neck, pantin’ with my own need for release.

Your shirt shreds easily under my nails, your jeans are quick to follow. You let me flip us over so I’m on top, but stop me from ruinin’ your underwear; you’re slow to remove ‘em an’ my beast is gettin’ impatient.

I know you’re teasin’ me an’ it’s sheer fuckin’ torture, but the delicious kind. I feel like I’m gonna blow before I even get inside you.

“Hurry the fuck up,” I snarl, my hands practically tearin’ my own shirt off.

You smile at me languidly as your bra finally comes off. “Don’t get snappy with me,” you say mischievously. “I might have to spank you again.”

My cock twitches an’ I grab both your wrists in one hand, pinnin’ them above your head as I shove my pants down with the other. “You wouldn’t fuckin’ dare,” I say roughly as you open your legs for me.

Your eyebrows rise an’ your grin infuriates me. “Try me, big man.”

I have no comeback, so I thrust my way inside you, groanin’ as I push myself in to the hilt. Fuck, you’re still as tight as I remember an’ it’s all I got to keep goin’, to keep fuckin’ myself into your tight, wet heat. An’ the noises you’re makin’—shit. Why the hell did I wait three weeks? I should’ve been kickin’ down your door the day after you told me to kiss your ass an’ fucked you into oblivion. I shouldn’t’ve made us wait this long—fuck, Ishouldn’t’ve waited this goddamn long.

I curl myself over you—you’re mine an’ I need to protect you while you’re vulnerable—an’ start thrustin’ slowly, though all I wanna do is fuck into you rough an’ hard an’ deep.

Goddamn, you feel so good an’ you’re makin’ these sweet little noises that have my beast goin’ crazy. You plant your feet an’ curve your body up against mine, your skin slicked an’ sticky with sweat. I want lick it off you but I can’t reach all of you, so I settle for releasin’ one hand to grab a breast, lowerin’ my face to tickle your nipple with the tip of my tongue.

You moan an’ buck your hips a little, drivin’ me deeper into your pink velvet insides. Christ, I never wanna stop fuckin’ you. The way you fit around me … shit, I’d never felt anything so goddamn flawless in my life. You’re makin’ it easy to forget every one else I’d ever fucked; no one else can compare. It’s like you were made for me.

You prob’ly were.

I work my tongue between your breasts, lickin’ up that succulent perspiration, lettin’ it linger so I could memorize its flavour. Your gasps an’ groans are the best goddamn music I’ve ever heard, the greatest Oscar winning soundtrack to our fuckin’.

You strain against my grip, adjustin’ your hips so that my dick’s hittin’ you at a different angle. “Yes!” you cry, your fingernails diggin’ into the back of my hand. “Right there!”

I ain’t gonna say no to a request like that an’ a few strokes later, I can feel you tremblin’. You’re ready to give yourself over to me.

“C’mon, tiger,” I’m pantin’ as your walls flutter around me, squeezin’ me harder an’ harder. “I want you to come all over my cock.”

need to feel you orgasm; I’m almost fuckin’ desperate for it. My ultimate pleasure its makin’ you, my mate, experience your ultimate pleasure. It’s all I’m livin’ for right now.

Your eyes fix on mine an’ you let out a growl. The way you come is amazin’, all heat an’ hard an’ soft an’ wet as you scream my name. I fight to keep myself from blowin’ right there because goddamn, woman!

I continue to push into you, lettin’ your wrists go so I can lift myself on my elbows. I mean to kiss you, but when I look down, I can see my cock thrustin’ in an’ out, covered with your juices, your body shakin’ each time.

Your hands are graspin’ my ass—the same ass you’d abused two days ago—yankin’ me forward an’ I start plungin’ into you recklessly. I focus on you givin’ myself over like you did to me.

You’re wantin’ it harder an’ I give you what you want, snappin’ my hips, your pussy still contractin’ around my cock. I shout your name as I feel my balls tighten; I hope you’re ready because I can’t wait to fill you with my come, to finally claim you as mine. One of your hands is pullin’ my hair, the other scorin’ marks down the flesh of my back.

“Victor, oh god, please come! Please!”

I can’t ignore your command; I roar, but that doesn’t seem important as your sweet, velvety walls clench me, as I come harder than I ever have before. I’m tryin’ to ride the wave but I keep crashin’ into the rocks an’ Jesus Christ, it’s fuckin’ incredible.

Al I can feel is you: your entire body pulsin’ within an’ without me, your breath in my lungs, your sweat on my skin, your heart pulsing in place of mine.

Holy fuckin’ shit.

“Tiger, fuck!” I can’t say anythin’ else as I spill into you, the rhythm of my hips pushin’ you violently into the mattress beneath us.

Then you do something; unexpected: you fuckin’ bite me. You sink those sharp l’il teeth of yours right over my pulse an’ I feel my blood spurt into your mouth, your silky tongue smoothin’ over the wound.

Out of the fuckin’ blue, another fuckin’ orgasm tightens my balls an’ my vision goes dark, shootin’ stars streakin’ across the dimness. I feel you again, wrappin’ around me, closin’ in on me an’ it’s good, so fuckin’ right.

I thrust into you roughly before I’m spent; I’ve given you everything I have an’ I got nothin’ left. I’m careful as let myself rest overtop of you, balancing my weight on my forearms.

Your hair is tangled, your face glowin’, your chest shiny with sweat. You’re pantin’ for air, tryin’ to catch your breath, your hands grippin’ my hips.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” I say, an’ I fuckin’ mean it. You’re the most beautiful goddamn thing I’ve ever fuckin’ seen an’ you’re mine—all mine.

You smile up at me, your lips still coated with my blood. One of your hands slaps my ass, makin’ me yelp.

“You’re such a fuckin’ asshole,” you reply.

“Bitch.”

“Fuckbag.”

“Slut on toast.”

“Kiss me.”

I do, lappin’ at the blood on your mouth, your tongue firm. You moan an’ arch against me; I know what you want.

Just as I’m about to give it to you, another fuckin’ knock on the door separates us.

“It’s Ryan and Mazur.”

You grab my face an’ kiss me again, a hungry, primal kiss that practically curls my fuckin’ toes. “Mine,” you whisper against my lips. “You are mine.”

Well, shit, I ain’t gonna argue with you.

“Van was rocking,” calls Mazur from outside. “We did not knocking!”

Your mouth presses to my shoulder an’ you chuckle an’ I can’t help but smilin’.

I know I’m in some serious fuckin’ trouble but I’m gonna love every fuckin’ minute of it. You’re worth it, tiger.

You’re goddamn fuckin’ worth it an’ I’ll kill any motherfucker that tries to take you from me.

You belong to me now.

“Remind me to pop Ryan in the nose when he gets in,” you say. “That motherfucker burnt my house down.”

Goddamn, I think I’m in love.



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