Stardust

No Return
by Eiluned

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: The nights were spent in each other’s arms, forgetting that the world existed. Sawyer/Kate. 1283 words.

Notes: Sawyer. How I love that man. Feedback will be welcomed with open arms and given cookies.

—

It would always start with a kiss.

She would sneak away from camp and find him leaned against a tree or sitting on a boulder. His arms were always crossed and his shirt was usually open, and he would be gazing out at the ocean with something deep and lonely in his eyes. That look would disappear when she stopped at his side, replaced by his usual sly smile, and he would always take her by the hand and pull her against his body. She always closed her eyes, but she knew that he kept his open until the last second before his lips touched hers, the bristle of his beard grazing her chin.

This time was no different; that first kiss was sweeter than she would have thought he was capable of giving. But when she parted her lips against his, sighing, he slid his hands into her hair and kissed her hard, pushing his tongue against hers.

The first time she slept with him had been a moment of utter weakness. She had been tired and lonely and scared, and he had kissed her so sweetly. For that moment, she could imagine that she wasn’t trapped in her self-imposed solitude. She wasn’t the only outcast on this godforsaken island. They had writhed in each other’s arms, and for that moment, they weren’t alone.

The next day, things were back to normal, as normal as things could be. He was his usual sarcastic self, and she hovered around the outskirts of their little village, wanting to belong.

She told herself it wouldn’t happen again, but three days later, she was back in his arms. After a couple of weeks, they had fallen into a routine; days were occupied by a wary acknowledgement of each other, and nights were spent in each other’s arms, forgetting that the world existed.

Her hands slipped into his open shirt, and she pressed her palms against the hard muscles of his chest. He always moaned when she touched him, soft little pleading sounds in the back of his throat. Those sounds killed her, and she slid her hands over his shoulders, pushing the shirt off and pressing the full length of her body against his.

He felt so good against her; every inch of him was hard and tense with desire, and she rubbed against him like a cat. He broke their kiss just long enough to pull her tank top over her head, and then captured her lips again, sinking his teeth lightly into her bottom lip.

She didn’t love him. She liked him, but she didn’t think she was capable of loving him, or anyone for that matter. She didn’t love him, but she loved the feel of his hands on her, unhooking her bra and smoothing over her naked back. She loved the scrape of his stubble on her neck as he licked at her pulse. She loved how his hips would thrust against hers, an unconscious movement, when she pressed her breasts against him. She loved the way he could undress her without breaking their kiss, leaving her naked and wanting.

They sank down to their knees in one smooth motion, his mouth traveling down her throat to suck at her nipples. He could drive her mad with his mouth; he teased her nipples until she was gasping before pushing her onto her back and sliding his tongue down her stomach. He buried his face between her legs, licking and sucking until she came, pressing her own hand against her mouth to keep from crying out too loudly.

He looked at her then, looked long and hard from between her thighs with an inscrutable expression on his face. His blond hair was draped over his cheeks, falling into his pretty grey eyes, and she shivered involuntarily. He had never looked at her like that before, and she felt stirrings of something she knew she wasn’t ready to feel.

To break the spell, she reached for him, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling him on top of her. He kissed her deeply, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and settling between her open legs. His blue jeans rubbed against her sensitized skin, making her gasp and shudder against him.

She never thought about why she wanted him so much. She told herself it was physical attraction, plain and simple, and left it at that. Even then, she knew she was lying to herself, but examining her own motivations was too painful, and trying to figure out his was too difficult. She left it at physical attraction, and that attraction was strong.

Squeezing her hands between their bodies, she pulled the button loose and tugged the zipper down, pushing his jeans down over his hips. They were usually too desperate for each other’s bodies by this time to actually remove his pants; they had only made love completely naked three times. His cock was hard in her hands, and he moaned deeply, his breathing suddenly ragged.

She arched her back, closing her eyes, and he shifted his hips, their bodies moving instinctively together until the head of his erection was pressed against her opening. He paused when she expected him to thrust, and she opened her eyes to find him looking at her. Her stomach flipped when he threaded his fingers in her hair; she wanted to slap her hand over his mouth to keep him from speaking. But he didn’t speak; he just kissed her lips gently, almost reverently, and pushed inside of her.

Her head fell back against the sandy ground, a cry caught in her throat. Nothing compared to that moment, to the feel of him inside her, filling her perfectly. He always held still for a long moment with his face pressed against her hair, his heart hammering against her chest. She wrapped her arms around his back, digging her fingers in to hide the trembling.

He rolled his hips against her, and she couldn’t help crying out at the slow drag and pull. His hips rolled slow and lazy, like swells spending themselves on the beach. He drove her mad with that easy rhythm, keeping it up until she was gasping and begging for more, harder, faster.

Bracing himself with one arm, he willingly obliged, thrusting harder and faster. She loved it when he kissed her then, little teasing glances from his lips. Dragging her lips away from his, she licked at the soft skin under his ear, sinking her teeth into his neck, smiling secretly when he let loose a hoarse cry.

They were passing the point of no return; she knew by the sudden raggedness of his thrusts and the coiling pleasure in her own body. He knew it, too, and pushed his cock deep inside of her, grinding against her clit. The coiling pleasure unwound suddenly, wracking her body, and she screamed his name, sobbing against his skin. A few more hard, uneven thrusts and he came inside of her, moaning desperately, her name a prayer on his lips.

He had never held her before that night. He always used to kiss her lips and draw away from her, leading her to the water so they could clean up, but that night, he held her tight for a long time. She closed her eyes and wrapped herself around him, surrendering to his kisses and his touches, and for a while, she wasn’t alone.

She didn’t know if the next day would be the same as the days before. She didn’t know if it was even possible to go back to that feigned casualness they seemed to depend on. But for that moment, she didn’t care.

end

Like
by Eiluned

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Sawyer likes Kate, and he hates her, but most of all, he wants her. 409 words.

Notes: First Lost fic. Feedback would be greatly appreciated.

–

Sawyer liked her. He couldn’t help himself; he’d tried telling himself that she was a little know-it-all bitch, a cocktease, as much of a liar as he was, and while he knew she was all three, he still liked her.

Well, maybe ‘like’ wasn’t exactly the right word.

He liked her well enough, liked to tease and prod and get a rise out of her, piss her off until pink spots rose on those pale cheeks. He thought that he might even like having real, honest-to-God conversations with her, if she’d get off her high horse. But he liked watching her. He liked watching her hips swing when she walked. He liked the curve of her breasts and the curl of her hair. He especially liked the sight of long, bare legs underneath those tiny black panties and that tank top clinging to her wet body.

He liked her well enough, but he fucking wanted her.

He wanted to taste her mouth again. He wanted her on her back underneath him, her heels digging into the backs of his thighs, her fingers scrabbling in the sand. He wanted to spread his hands over her breasts and admire the contrast between his tan and her pale. He wanted to know if she was loud or quiet while she was being fucked. He imagined that she’d force herself to be quiet, biting her lip until he made her come. She’d scream his name then, coming hard around his cock, and he’d pound into her, listening to those quiet little gasps, until he came with his face buried in her pretty dark hair.

She was bitchy and condescending, and oh, she’d seen everything there is to see in the world, and she had pity on him, fucking pity. He hated to see her flirt with the doc. He hated that oh-so-compassionate look she got when she looked at him. He liked her and he hated her and, most of all, he wanted her.

Sawyer scrubbed his face with his hands, making a frustrated noise.

“Are you okay?”

He looked up to see Kate standing over him, her hands on her hips and a pale slash of skin peeking out from between her shirt and pants, that vaguely pitying look set on her features.

“I’d be fine, freckles, if you’d get out of my light. How’m I gonna get a tan when you’re blocking the sun?”

She scowled at him and walked off.

end

Sin
by Eiluned

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: Not mine, but they are in the public domain…

Rating: Adult

Summary: Arthur has reservations. Arthur/Lancelot. 125 words.

Notes: I suck at writing summaries. And if there’s a special place in hell for slashing medieval legends, I’m so going there. Ask if you wanna archive. Feedback will be licked.

—

“This is sinful…”

Arthur’s whisper hung in the still air as if it were tangible, a thing to be touched and tossed aside.

“Not in my religion,” Lancelot breathed, stripping Arthur’s tunic from his body. “Nor in Rome, at least not until your god took over.”

Arthur bit back a moan as Lancelot pressed against his body. “Do you not want this?” Lancelot said, pressing his lips to Arthur’s neck. “Can you honestly say that you do not want this? Because your body betrays you.”

Arthur’s eyes were shut tightly. “I do want this.”

“There is nothing sinful about this. We are merely two men who care deeply for each other, and the gods bless friendship and love.”

Lancelot kissed him deeply, and Arthur surrendered.

In The Burrow
by Eiluned

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Rating: Work-safe

Summary: Thank goodness Molly Weasley is there with tea and advice. A fill-in-the-blanks short story set just before chapter five of HBP. Contains spoilers for OotP and maybe minor ones for HBP. Lupin/Tonks. 1132 words.

Notes: I’ve quoted two lines of dialogue from p 81 of HBP near the end of this story. Thanks to seremela_linwe and Deke for the beta reads, and Deke for the title.

–

The Burrow was flooded with the uncomfortable quiet of bereavement. No one dared speak and break the mourning spell, not with Remus Lupin in the house.

He sat alone in the living room, staring into the fire and clutching a mug of tea that had to have gone cold an hour ago. Tonks paused at the doorway, a mug full of fresh tea in her hands, and watched him.

She had only known him for a year, but she liked to think she had a pretty good idea of how his mind worked. He was quiet and polite to a fault, always friendly with the other members of the Order, but he held everyone at an arm’s distance. Everyone, that is, except for Sirius.

And now Sirius was gone, gone again, and Remus was once again alone.

Tonks stepped into the room, and he finally noticed that she was there. Wordlessly, she held up her mug, and he nodded. “Molly thought you might need some more tea,” she said. “It’s her cure-all, you know.”

Remus tried to smile, but it ended up looking more like a grimace. Tonks took his cold mug and gave him the warm one, intending to take it back to the kitchen and leave him alone, but something held her back. Maybe it was the fact that he was alone, in his self-enforced solitude, after losing his best friend. It was that in part, but also because of the ache in her own chest. She couldn’t bear to walk out of the living room and leave him alone and silent. She had forced herself to walk away from him too many times already.

“Remus?” she said. “Are you… er… are you going to be all right?”

He looked up at her, just looked for a long, silent moment.

And then, startlingly, he broke down.

Tonks moved on sheer instinct and wrapped her arms around him, kneeling on the threadbare sofa beside his legs. He pulled her close, his arms around her waist, and buried his face in her shoulder. He wept as if he hadn’t let himself weep for sixteen years, as if all of the pent-up grief and loneliness had finally burst through the dam of his dignity.

She stroked his hair and whispered soothing nonsense to him, letting him take comfort in clutching her like an oversized teddy bear. His tears soaked through her jumper and t-shirt, dampening her skin.

Tonks heard a soft sound, and turned her head to see Molly in the doorway, holding her hands to her mouth. She met Molly’s eyes, and the elder woman nodded and disappeared back into the kitchen.

It was a long time before the flood of sorrow began to abate; when the tears finally trickled to a stop, Remus lifted his head from her shoulder and looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry—” he began, but Tonks shook her head.

“Don’t apologize. There’s nothing to apologize for,” she interrupted.

“It just… I finally realized that he’s truly gone. I’ve lost him forever this time. I’m alone.”

“You’re not,” Tonks said gently. “You’ve got the Order, Molly and Arthur. And… me. You’ve got me.”

He started to speak, but before he could get a word out, she did what she had wanted to do for months.

She leaned forward and kissed him.

–

Molly had just put the kettle back on to boil when a very flustered Remus Lupin stumbled through her kitchen, muttering something about needing to leave and thanks for the tea. She watched, startled, as he pushed open the door, stepped outside, turned on the spot and Disapparated.

“Oh dear,” she murmured, tapping the kettle with her wand so that it immediately whistled and spouted steam.

She heard a soft noise behind her and turned to see Tonks leaning against the doorframe, her arms wrapped around her own waist. Her hair was a dull shade of brown that was startling for its complete normalcy. “Molly? Could… could I get a cup of tea?” she said quietly, her dark eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“Of course, dear,” Molly said. “Is everything… all right?”

Tonks sat at the table and rested her head on her hands. “Not exactly, no.”

Molly set a mug in front of the younger woman and took the seat across the table. “You told him, then? And he didn’t react very well.” she said sympathetically.

“I am so stupid,” Tonks said, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I should have known he didn’t feel the same way, I mean, look at me, I’m just a stupid kid compared to—”

“Nympadora, never let me hear you say that again,” Molly said sternly. “You are not a child, and you are most certainly not stupid. And Remus… Remus just needs time to come around.”

“I don’t know if he will come around, Molly. You should have heard him. ‘I’m too old, I’m too poor, I can’t take care of you, you deserve someone better than me, I’m too dangerous.’”

“I get the feeling those are excuses he’s clung to for a long time, Tonks. It might take a while for him to move past them—”

“And it’s not like I care that he’s poor or older than me! It’s just thirteen years, and we’re both adults. That doesn’t matter. I love him for who he is. I don’t want someone better than him because there isn’t anyone better than him, at least not for me. And the fact that he’s a werewolf… I don’t care about that!”

“It must be difficult for him to trust himself, though—”

“Molly, are you defending him or giving me a shoulder to cry on?” Tonks said, sniffling.

“I’m simply trying to explain why I think he reacted the way he did, dear, and help you realize that it’s not over yet,” Molly replied calmly. “Don’t give up on him. I think he cares about you a great deal.”

“Oh, you do?” Tonks said bitterly.

Molly’s voice suddenly became stern. “Yes, I do. Why else would he have put up such a fight? He probably thinks he’s protecting you by pushing you away. You’ve just got to let him know that you’re not going to be pushed away. Keep telling him why you love him, dear, and eventually he’ll understand.”

Someone suddenly knocked on the door, startling both women. Molly leapt from her chair, pulling out her wand and hurrying to the back door.

“Who’s there?” she said nervously. “Declare yourself!”

“It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry.”

She flung the door open, letting them into the kitchen.

–

Tonks stepped out of the Burrow after saying her goodnights and clutched her cloak around her body. “Of all the people to fall for,” she muttered before turning and Disapparating.

end

Beyond Fighting
by Eiluned

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Rating: Work-Safe

Summary: Lupin and Tonks have a very serious chat. OotP spoilers. 438 words. Title and sentence challenge from belladonnalin.

–

Sirius was dead. It was still a hard thing to accept, even though Remus knew it to be true. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of a cruel god would give a man back his life only to take it from him again so quickly. Perhaps that was why he stopped believing in a god a long time ago.

The Order had held a small service for Sirius in the old House of Black, and no more than twenty people had attended: everyone who had known the truth about Sirius. Dumbledore spoke and tears flowed freely from those who were apt to cry.

Remus sat in the basement kitchen, warming his hands around a mug of tea, listening to the hushed sounds of the Order moving about. He missed his dear friend, even more so now than when Sirius was taken to Azkaban. Back then, he’d thought Sirius to be a turncoat, a betrayer. Not now.

A crash, a mumbled curse, and a sniffle startled him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see Tonks righting an overturned chair. “Sorry, Remus, I didn’t know you were in here,” she said, and he could see that her eyes were red. “I’ll leave you alone.”

“No, sit,” he said, suddenly and inexplicably craving company. “Please. Would you like some tea?”

Tonks settled onto the bench across from him. “No, thanks,” she replied.

They sat there quietly for a long moment, until Tonks sniffled again. “I can’t believe he’s gone,” she said. “I mean, he was cranky and all, but he really was a good guy. I’m going to miss him.”

Remus sighed heavily. “I will, too, Tonks.”

She looked at him very seriously, a rare look for Nymphadora Tonks. “I think I’m beginning to understand what it was like back then,” she said, “when You-Know-Who was in power. It goes beyond fighting. It’s death, lots of death, and I can’t help wondering if it’s worth it. Why fight when so many of us are going to die anyway?”

Remus closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the early days of the Order. “Because we have a choice, you know? We can see what we’ve seen and face it, admit that the world isn’t as pretty as we want it to be … or we can hide,” he answered gently. “What kind of choice is that?”

Tonks’s eyes filled with tears, and Remus reached across the table for her hand, intending to apologize. She shook her head, though, squeezing his fingers. “No, you’re right on,” she said. “I just can’t help being scared.”

Remus smiled. “I understand completely.”

“If you’d stop wiggling, I wouldn’t have this problem.” & “You look damn good in that dress.”
by Eiluned

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Archive: Please ask first.

Summary: A couple of 50 word ficlets.

—–

(Ultimate Logan/Jean)

“If you’d stop wiggling, I wouldn’t have this problem.”

“Wiggling? You mean like this?”

Logan’s eyes rolled back in his head when she rubbed her tight little ass against his groin.

“Do that again, Jeannie, and you’re gonna get it.”

Smiling mischievously over her shoulder at him, she slowly and deliberately did it again.

—–

(Ultimate Bobby)

“You look damn good in that dress.”

A chorus of snickers met Bobby’s entrance into the den. He swallowed his pride and launched into “I’m A Little Teapot”.

Everyone was howling with laughter by the time he got to, “tip me over and pour me out.”

“Bite me,” he said. “I’m not playing Truth or Dare with you guys again.”

Wicked Game
by Eiluned

Date finished: 19 September 2001

Archive: Please ask first. :)

Disclaimer: They belong to Marvel, but they like what I do with them a lot more. The lyrics and title are copyright to Chris Isaak.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: A little sexy music goes a long way. Ultimate. Wolverine/Jean. 1498 words.

Notes: *Not a part of In Repair.* This came about while having a conversation with Alex and listening to ‘Heart Shaped World’. Actually, it started out as this: “Ultimate Wolvie’s sprawled on my couch in a pair of jeans with no shirt, giving me this smoldering look. God, I love what Chris Isaak does to that man.” Chris Isaak does things to me, too. ::grin:: He makes me write semi-songfic. ::shudder:: ;)

Thanks to Alex for the quickie beta read. Devil Doll, I hope this will make you feel better. Consider it payment for those loverly fics you sent me this weekend.

–

Logan’s sprawled on my couch in a pair of jeans with no shirt, giving me this smoldering look. Smoldering… hell. I think my panties are about to burst into flames. God, I love what Chris Isaak does to that man.

Everyone tells me I’ve got weird taste in music. I just reply that I’m eclectic. What else would you call someone whose CD collection is comprised of everything from The Eagles to Enya, Linkin Park to Leftfield, Counting Crows to Chris Isaak? Chris Isaak is playing now. ‘Heart Shaped World’, one of my very favorite CDs. It really surprises me that Logan likes it. He usually listens to really hard alternative rock. It has to have something to do with repressed anger. Loud, hard stuff, like Deftones and Type O Negative. It was more than a little surprising when he tossed himself onto the couch and started humming along.

Not that I’m complaining, mind you. Nope, having him half naked in my room with this sexy music playing isn’t anything close to a problem.

‘The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.
It’s strange what desire will make foolish people do.
I never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you.
I never dreamed that I’d love somebody like you.’

He’s watching me like I’m his prey, those deep brown eyes narrowed slightly. He draws in a deep breath, and I can’t help staring at his chest, watching the big muscles rise and fall. He clasps his hands and rests them on his stomach, and I can’t help staring at that, too. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man with as gorgeous a body as him. My eyes trail over that washboard stomach and lower, over his hands and down to the faded material of his jeans.

Don’t drool, Jean. That definitely won’t look very civilized.

‘I don’t want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
I don’t want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
With you. With you. (This world is only gonna break your heart) ‘

Oh, sing it, Chris. Logan’s hands drift apart and down to rest on his thighs, framing his crotch and the rather obvious bulge starting to form there.

Tease.

I shift a little in my chair, trying to get a little friction where I want it. He notices, of course, and a sharp little grin plays across his lips. Lips that I’d really like to sink my teeth into right about now. Fuck civilized.

‘What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way.
What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you.’

He presses his fingers into his thighs, like he’s massaging out some ache in the muscles. I feel my mouth fall open, but I can’t be bothered to close it, or even care. If he’s putting on a show for me… well, I’d better give my full attention. He doesn’t tease often. He’d rather just get down to it. With that healing factor of his, I don’t mind.

Stretching his back, arching it really, he slides his left hand down to just above his knee and slides the right one up to cup his crotch.

I whimper. Damn, I can’t believe I just whimpered, but there it went. God, I hope he’s gonna do what I think he’s gonna do.

‘What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way.
What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you and,

I don’t want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
I don’t want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
With you.’

His eyes never leave my face, even though mine are locked on his groin. He tugs each button on his fly loose excruciatingly slowly, deep brown eyes dark and full of mischief and desire. My hand lifts of its own volition to stroke across my bottom lip. I think that was him, thinking into my head, wanting to see it. For some reason, that turns me on incredibly.

It turns him on, too. I can feel his arousal crackling across the air between us like an electrical arc.

‘The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.
It’s strange what desire will make foolish people do.’

He finally pulls that last button open, and his hand dips into his jeans. I knew it, I knew it… He hardly ever wears underwear, and he’s definitely not now. He just pulls his cock out of his pants and slides his big hand over it from root to tip. My breath leaves me in a shaky sigh, and my hand moves again, this time to my own lap. I can’t sit here and watch this without touching myself.

That cocky little smile spreads across his lips again, and his eyes darken a bit. I have to physically stop myself from jumping up and tackling him. I want to see just how far his little tease will go.

He lifts his hips up a bit and pushes his jeans down to his knees, giving himself better access and me a better view, then starts stroking himself again. I mentally congratulate myself for never putting anything other than my panties and a t-shirt on this morning. Makes for easier access. I push the crotch of my panties aside and slide one finger into myself.

‘I never dreamed that I’d love somebody like you.
I never dreamed that I’d lose somebody like you no,’

His hand starts moving faster, his eyes moving down to watch me play with myself. I know that seeing me touch myself is probably the fastest way to drive him out of his mind, and it’s working. I can hear the soft growl starting in his throat, the sound he makes when he’s really turned on.

I pull my finger out and slide it up to my clit, rubbing a few hard circles on it, making my breath catch in my throat. He groans and strokes himself roughly, his hand spreading precum over the thick length of his erection. My mouth is actually starting to water. Good god.

We go on teasing each other like this for a moment, both of us feeling our control slipping through our fingers. I just want to straddle him and take his cock deep inside of me, want to ride him until we both scream. I force myself to stay in my chair and push three fingers into myself, rubbing my clit hard with my palm. I can’t be gentle now. I just want to come, and I want to watch him come, too.

‘I don’t want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
I don’t want to fall in love. (This world is only gonna break your heart)
With you. With you. (This world is only gonna break your heart)’

I can feel an orgasm starting to coil deep inside of me, like a spring set too tight. I throw open my mind to him, let his sensations wash over me. God, he’s close, too. He’s pushing himself back into the couch cushions, panting, growling, jerking himself off wildly.

Suddenly, his body stiffens, and he cries out sharply. Thick, white semen splashes onto the sharply defined muscles of his stomach, and I’m moving before I even realize it.

I yank the crotch of my underwear to the side so hard that the seam on one side rips a bit. I cover his hand with mine and tilt his spurting cock forward, then sink down into it. All it takes is a couple of hard bucks, and I’m coming too, clenching around him, fingernails digging into his biceps, back arched, screaming his name.

His fingers dig into my hips, pumping me up and down on him, and through the haze of my own orgasm, I can feel a second one grip him tightly. He howls, pushing me down and thrusting his hips up as hard as he can, pulsing deep inside of me.

‘Nobody loves no one.’

I can finally think straight after a few minutes of moaning incoherently. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me against him, pressing his face against my neck. “Good Christ,” he mutters, twitching a bit and shuddering.

I play with his soft hair for a moment, wrapping a particularly long strand around my pinkie finger. I can feel the cum on his belly soaking into my t-shirt. “You know, I already took a shower today. Now I’m going to have to take another one,” I say nonchalantly, rubbing my face against that silky hair.

He snorts. “Oh, poor you.”

I tug on his hair, and he tilts his head back, kissing me passionately. “Logan,” I murmur against his lips.

“Hmm?”

“Remind me to play Chris Isaak more often, okay?”

End

What It’s Like
by Eiluned

Date finished: 19 September 2001

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: They belong to Marvel. I’m just experimenting with them.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Ever wonder what it’s like? Ultimate. Wolverine/Cyclops. 1289 words.

Warnings: Explicit male/male sex. If it ain’t your cuppa joe, you might want to avoid this story.

Notes: Experimenting here. I’ve decided that I like Scott best when he’s slashed. :) And I seem to be on a writing roll. Woo-hoo! Now, to see if I can finish that Logan/Remy slash piece. Feedback would be absolutely wonderful, especially on this piece. I’m curious as to whether this pairing would work. For anyone other than me, that is. ;)

–

“Ever wonder what it’s like?”

Logan paused before taking a swig of his beer. “Ever wonder what what’s like?” he asked, although he was pretty certain of the answer. God only knew how they’d gotten into this little bonding session.

Scott was stretched out on the grass, beer bottle in his hand, staring out at the lake. At least, Logan thought he was staring at the lake. He couldn’t see shit underneath that visor, especially in the darkness of the moonless night.

Scott look a long swallow of beer, head tossed back, neck long and muscular. Logan scowled at himself.

“You know what I mean,” Scott said, and Logan smelled a touch of embarrassment on the air.

He couldn’t help grinning wolfishly. “You’ve never…”

Scott sat up suddenly, and the embarrassment grew sharper and blended with a little bit of arousal. “No. I haven’t,” he said, with just a touch of vehemence. “Have you?”

Logan hid his smile behind his beer bottle. “Why do you want to know?”

Scott’s posture grew stiffer. “Curiosity,” he snapped.

“Hey, no need to get all defensive. Yeah, I have a few times.”

Even in the dark night, Logan could see the younger man’s cheeks turn red. “So you’re bi.”

Logan chuckled. “Not really. Don’t like to call myself anything. What’s the point in limiting yourself?”

Scott shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean… well, it sounds right, but…”

“You’re scared.”

“I am not,” Scott snapped.

“Yes, you are. I can smell it on you. You want it, but you’re scared of it. You’re scared of what doing it would make you.”

Scott didn’t say anything, so Logan plowed ahead. “So, who is it?”

“Who is what?”

Evasive. “The guy. The guy you wanna fuck.”

“You’re so fucking crude, Wolverine.”

“Yeah, so I am. Who is it?”

Scott busied himself with his beer, draining the rest of the bottle. Logan leaned onto his side. “Come on, Cyclops. Who is it?” he goaded, watching Scott’s jaw tighten with irritation. “You afraid to tell me? You wouldn’t have brought it up in the first place if you didn’t want to tell me.”

“It’s you, goddammit. You. Are you happy now?” Scott snapped, and Logan’s jaw pretty much hit the grass.

“Me?” he exclaimed. “You want to fuck me?”

Scott hesitated for a second. “No, I want you to fuck me.”

“Are you kidding?”

Scott sneered at him. “No, I’m not kidding, you asshole.”

Logan was suddenly much more aware of Scott’s scent, humiliation mingled with sharp desire. A dangerous mix, and one that Logan couldn’t resist.

He quickly rolled onto Scott, pinning him to the soft ground, Scott’s beer bottle falling to the grass. The younger man reflexively tried to fight back, but Logan was expecting it, and he was stronger anyway. He watched the visor, watched the pinpoints of red widen and glow more brightly with surprise and a bit of anger.

“You want me to fuck you?” Logan growled, keeping his voice low. “You want to know what it’s like to come in another man’s hand?”

The pinpoints disappeared; Scott had closed his eyes. “Yes,” he whispered, so quietly that Logan wouldn’t have been able to hear it without his enhanced senses.

“You’re sure? I ain’t gonna do this unless it’s exactly what you want.”

Scott exhaled heavily, strong body shaking under Logan’s. Logan could feel the younger man getting hard, pressed against his hip. “Yes, I want it,” Scott breathed.

Logan immediately welded his mouth to Scott’s, pushing his tongue between those sweet lips, moaning. Scott stiffened for a moment, almost long enough to make Logan pull back, then melted against him, becoming pliant under Logan’s roaming hands.

Scott stroked his tongue against Logan’s a bit uncertainly, as if he wasn’t quite sure the right way to do it. He let his hands slide over Logan’s shoulders, fingers gripping tightly when Logan sank his teeth lightly into Scott’s bottom lip.

They were both hard now, pressed together through their jeans. Scott pressed himself up against Logan, moaning into his mouth, jerking when one of Logan’s hands slid down to cup his ass. “That’s right,” Logan muttered, using his hand to control Scott’s movements. “Work yourself on me.”

Scott’s head fell back onto the grass, his fingers digging into Logan’s shoulders. It felt so good to rub against him, to feel another hard cock against his. He gasped at the sudden rush of guilty pleasure, and Logan pulled back, leaving Scott to moan in protest.

He wasn’t disappointed for long. Big but surprisingly nimble hands pulled at the button on his fly, slid the zipper down, pushed the jeans and his boxer shorts down over his hips. Scott blushed at first, then gasped when that big hand palmed his erection. He came to his senses enough to pull Logan’s fly loose; he was quite pleasantly surprised to find him bare under his jeans. Knowing that Logan had been walking around naked under his pants made Scott clench up inside.

Logan shoved his jeans down a bit, then dropped back onto Scott’s body, pulling both of their shirts up to mid-chest. Scott hissed at the first touch of hot skin. The wiry brush of thick pubic hair made his head spin, made him arch and rub against Logan’s groin like a cat. Logan growled softly, the fingers of one hand tangling in Scott’s short hair. He rubbed his own erection against Scott’s smooth hip, leaving a damp, warm trail of precum across his skin.

Logan propped himself up on one elbow and started kissing Scott again, roughly, nipping at his tongue and lips. He slid his other hand between their bodies and grasped his and Scott’s cocks, pressing them together against his palm. Scott cried out, bucking against Logan’s hand and erection.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Logan purred, licking at Scott’s mouth.

Scott couldn’t answer, couldn’t even think straight. All he could feel was Logan’s hot cock rubbing against his, Logan’s hand working them both and a dull roar inside his own body, a coiling, sucking pleasure building low in his groin. Logan’s heavy balls brushed against his, and he felt them draw up tight against his body. God, he was going to come…

“I’m gonna come,” he whispered brokenly against Logan’s mouth.

“Yessss…” Logan hissed, jerking them harder.

Scott stiffened, the dull roar of pleasure building until it was screaming like a jet engine. No, it was him screaming, body wracked with orgasm, spilling hot semen all over his belly and Logan’s hand. Logan’s growls built in volume as he kept moving his hand, and Scott felt another splash of warm wetness over his clenched stomach, all the way up to his chest.

They stayed frozen like that for a long moment, jerking with aftershocks. Scott waited to feel dirty or humiliated, but he didn’t. He felt fucking good, even with his and Logan’s cum cooling on his skin.

Logan moved his hand and pressed himself down onto Scott, letting their semen wet the skin of his stomach. Scott thought it felt strangely good to feel the soft hair on Logan’s stomach rubbing against his skin. Logan brought his wet hand up to his mouth and drew his tongue up one finger, rumbling with pleasure. Scott couldn’t help himself; he leaned up and sucked two of Logan’s fingers into his mouth, licking the bitter-salty fluid off of his skin. Logan looked surprised but pleased.

Slowly, he drew away from Scott, sitting up on his knees, tucking himself back into his pants. “Come to my room when you’re ready,” he said, pulling himself to his feet.

Scott listened to him walking up the lawn, staring up at the starry sky. He’d give Logan a head start.

End

Waking Up
by Alex SisterWolf (alexsisterwolf@yahoo.com) &
Eiluned

Date finished: 11 October 2001

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: They belong to Marvel. We just have loads of kinky fun with them.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Unapologetic, plotless smut. Oh, you want a real summary? Um, well, Jean watches Wolvie wake up. Smut ensues. ;) 1159 words.

Notes: This came about whilst chatting on AIM. First I (eil) started talking about how cute Wolvie would look while waking up in the morning, then it just deteriorated. ::grin::

–

There’s nothing like watching Wolverine wake up after a long night of hard sex.

He rolls onto his back and stretches like a cat, yawning and rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands. I smile and rub his belly, then lean over and nibble at his hipbones.

He’s ticklish, by the way. But he’ll never let on. Unless you get him when he’s half-asleep. Then he laughs and laughs and laughs, and tries to wrestle you to the mattress to make you stop.

Which he’s doing to me now.

He holds my hands in one of his, and tickles me with the other, and rubs my neck with his stubble until I’m begging for mercy.

My only defense against beard burn is to lick his ear, because that distracts him too much to keep torturing me. A little bite on the earlobe now and then. That really distracts him. The natural progression from there is to move down and start sucking at his neck right below his ear. The little spot that makes him squirm and moan.

Then, his fingers move from tickling me to playing with my nipples. He grins down at me with that devilish glint in his eyes.

“Didn’t you get enough last night?” I say with a wry grin.

“Never.” And he kisses me, hot and wet, until I’m panting.

He rolls on top of me and I part my legs, letting him settle comfortably between my thighs. He rubs the head of his penis against my clit, circling his hips, teasing me with light touches. “God, you’re wet,” he murmurs against my neck, tongue darting out to tease my skin.

I trail my fingers up his back, feeling the muscles bunch and coil under the skin, fingertips whispering over his skin gently, lightly, and then dig my nails in just the way he likes it, dragging my hands down his back, feeling his entire body tense as he sucks in a deep breath.

He growls softly, shifting his hips so that the head of his cock presses against my opening. “Are you ready, darlin’?”

In response, I raise my head up from the pillow and take his mouth in a deep, sizzling kiss, rubbing my tongue against his.

With a deep, growling moan, he presses his hips down against mine, pushing himself deep inside of me, as far as he can go. I gasp as I feel him sinking deep inside me, filling me. My legs slip up around his hips and pull him even closer, closer, as if we could become one.

I let my head fall back on the mattress, eyes locked on his face, which is twisted into a lovely grimace of pleasure. He starts thrusting slowly, and I recognize the rhythm he’s setting. He must be feeling impatient.

I lock my hands behind his shoulders and hold on for dear life, knowing that this will be a wild ride. His thrusts are long, slow, but they have a force behind them that rocks the bed back against the wall.

I can’t help giggling when I realize that the noise will wake up whoever’s in the next room. “What’s so funny, girl?” he growls, thrusting hard.

My giggle turns into a moan. “Just thinking that–” He thrusts hard again and I suck in a gasp of air.

He grins down at me. “Yeah? Thinking what?”

“That whoever– Ah!” I cry as he thrusts in again.

“Having trouble talking?” That devilish glint is back in his dark eyes.

“No, I… Uhhhh!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be talkin’ right now, hmmm?”

“I– uh! guess not…”

He kisses me hard, his tongue pushing against mine, then he draws away with a wolfish smile. “Shut ya up.”

He’s being a little too cocky about this, I think hazily. Definitely should break his control a little. Definitely.

So the next time he strokes in, I simultaneously clench down on him and bite his collarbone. Hard.

He moans so loudly I’m sure everyone on this floor of the Mansion heard him. “Jesus,” he groans, propping himself up on his forearms.

“Shut you up,” I tease, thrusting my hips up against him. “Now get down to business, Wolvie.”

He smirks down at me and swivels his hips a few times, hard, the way that makes me close my eyes and shudder in pleasure. Then apparently he decides play-time’s over. He slides his hands under my shoulders and buries his head in my hair, starting a hard pumping that’s going to pull me over the edge in a couple seconds.

“Oh… oh… ohGODLOGAN… I’mgonnacome!” I cry out, fingernails digging into his muscular ass.

The pleasure is blinding. It sucks the breath out of my lungs and makes my whole body contract. If I’ve ever had this powerful of an orgasm before, I definitely can’t remember it.

He starts growling, a low rumbling through his chest, as I feel his fingers clench and tighten on my shoulders. The aftershocks of orgasm are still rolling through my body, but I can feel another one approaching as his pumping picks up speed.

“You gonna come again, baby?” he pants, then shifts his hips so that each thrust rubs against my G-spot.

My eyes practically roll back into my head. Speech is completely beyond my abilities now, but I answer him as best I can by moaning and crying out loudly. It feels like a freight train is roaring through my body, building up speed, building up and up and up and up– and then suddenly everything explodes and I scream, feeling him gasp and shudder as my climax triggers his. He growls and bites my shoulder as he pumps into me once, twice, and then he collapses onto me, gasping for air.

It takes a long time to come down, but I finally notice that someone is pounding on the wall. “Keep it down, will ya? ‘Less you’re gonna invite Gambit next time!” Remy shouts through the wall, and I burst into giggles.

Logan’s still on top of me, and it’s starting to get heavy, but I relish the feel of his penis still inside me. He lifts up his head from my shoulder and grins at me. “Was that what you were trying to tell me, darlin’?”

I press my face against his shoulder, grinning. “Something like that. So, you think we should invite him next time?” I say with a laugh.

He quirks an eyebrow at me and chuckles. “You sure you’d survive the experience, darlin’? ‘Cause it sounded like you were about to die on me a few minutes ago.”

I lay my head back and quirk an eyebrow at him, pretending to think hard. “Hmmm… well… I dunno… I think if we took a lot of breaks (with me, I mean, you two could keep going) I’d be fine.”

He grins. “Got an advantage over the two of ya…” he whispers into my ear. “Healing factor.”

End

Flashes (10.22.01)
by Eiluned

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: They belong to Marvel, not me. Making money I am not.

Rating: Adult

Description: Ultimate X-Men. Wolvie/Jean. 91 words.

Notes: Flashes are little snippets of life, focusing on various members of the X-Men, but mostly Wolverine, Jean Grey and Gambit, in all of the X-Men universes. There is no real continuity in Flashes; they are simply my way of getting little scenes in my head onto paper. :) If there’s any kind of shipperyness, it will be indicated in the description.

Feedback is cherished. :)

–

She’s standing there, pale green scrubs and pale, pale skin against bright red hair; soft, pink lip caught between her teeth; sad and confused and so turned on.

All it takes is one little move and she’s in my arms, no resistance at all. I bend her back, and her lips part in surprise. I press my mouth against hers, sliding my tongue between those soft lips. She’s stiff at first, but she melts against me, all heat and sex. Right now, I don’t care about anything else.

I want her.