X-Men: Metal

Posted: under Fanfiction, X-Men.
Tags: , , ,

Metal
by Eiluned

Date Finished: 17 August 2003

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: Marvel’s, not mine.

Rating: Adult

Summary: “She slept soundly, and the moonlight turned her fair skin silver.” Logan/Jean. 616. 190 words.

Notes: I’ve been writing a lot of poetry lately. Apparently, it’s bleeding over into my prose.

She slept soundly, and the moonlight turned her fair skin silver. He touched her bare arm, and his own skin was darker steel, stronger than the pliable silver. He knew looks were deceiving, because she may have been pliable, but she was not weak.

He lay at her side and watched her sleep in the moonlight, watched her beautiful face, her beautiful lips parted, her beautiful eyelashes fanned across her silvery cheeks. He touched her silver skin, felt the velvet softness of it, remembered how it felt pressed against every inch of his steel skin. He touched her and grew hard as steel with the memory, his senses and memory blurring the line between past and present.

His soft moan turned to gold dust in the moonlight, and the dust settled over her silver skin. She stirred, lashes fluttering open, and her dusky silver lips curved up in a smile. She moved against him like quicksilver, and their bodies became molten metal, silver and steel melded together until they were no longer silver and steel. They were flesh and blood, forged to fit perfectly, like a sword in its sheath.

End

Comments (0) Apr 08 2010

X-Men: Lost

Posted: under Fanfiction, X-Men.
Tags: , , ,

Lost
by Eiluned

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Rating: Adult

Summary: The thing Jean hated the most about dying all the time was missing her favorite shows. 616, Logan/Jean. 3,059 words.

For dragon_within for the hetfic holiday ficathon.

Notes: dragon_within requested Logan/Jean, Harry Potter or Sawyer/Kate, and I thought, why not try for all three? This isn’t a Lost crossover, honest. It’s not a Harry Potter one, either. Both are mentioned, though, so if you haven’t seen episode 03×06 of Lost, cover your ears and hum really loudly. I hope you enjoy. :) Thanks to my Wenchie for the beta read.

Of all thing things that sucked about dying-and there were plenty of things to rattle off on that list-the one Jean hated most was missing her favorite TV shows. She’d come back to life once to find that she had missed an entire season of the X-Files, and that had thrown her completely off of her viewing schedule.

Not that she was addicted to television or anything-she would only admit to being addicted to books in mixed company-but she had her favorite shows, and it really irked her to have to shell out too much money for DVDs or hope that Bobby had tivo’d all of the episodes she’d missed while she was dead.

Before her last death, she had gotten terribly addicted to Lost. She had always had a soft spot for science fiction, having grown up watching Star Trek with her father, and Lost really filled the space that the X-Files had left when it got crappy.

And then she died right in the middle of the second season.

It had really pissed her off.

Luckily, she wasn’t the only addict in the X-Men. Bobby and Hank were as hopelessly hooked as she was, and Jean was pleasantly surprised to find that Kitty had come back to the mansion with a raging obsession to rival Jean’s. Even Piotr watched religiously, which surprised Jean almost as much as finding out that he had also come back from the dead.

Jean had actually hugged Kitty when the young woman had produced the season 2 DVD set and mentioned that season 3 was on the DVR in the rec room.

And so Jean had been spending all of her free time catching up on missed episodes. Theories flew back and forth over the table at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, generating rolled eyes from everyone outside of Lost Addicts Anonymous, as Bobby liked to call their little clique.

“What is so bloody interesting about that show?” Emma had asked once, and was promptly drowned out by at least six cheerfully babbling fans.

Everyone not addicted had learned at that point not to invite debate as to the quality and/or interestingness of Lost.

Jean had somehow made it through season 2 without spoiling herself, mostly through judicious-and probably unethical-use of telepathy to get Bobby to shut the hell up about new episodes while she was in earshot.

Logan found Jean in the rec room, her eyes glued to the TV, a glass of wine forgotten on the coffee table.

“Dammit,” he grumbled, and the TV appeared to pause itself when Jean turned to look at him.

“What?” she said with an impatient twist to her mouth.

“Hockey game’s on,” Logan said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jean frowned at him. “I think the DVR is recording it. I’m watching Lost.”

“Jeez, you aren’t done with it yet?” he teased. “You’ve been watching it every night for two weeks.”

She made a face at him, and he chuckled to himself, dropping down to sit on the other end of the couch. “You didn’t miss half of two seasons on account of being dead, so hush and let me finish,” she replied. “I’m on the last episode anyway.”

“So, what’s going on?”

Jean stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. “Logan, I can’t explain three seasons of Lost to you. It’s too complicated. And I can’t believe you live in this house and haven’t seen any episodes.”

He shrugged. “I’ve seen a couple. I know their plane crashed and weird shit’s been going on. Something about a polar bear. Just tell me the most important thing that’s going on in this episode.”

Jean leaned toward him, suddenly so obviously into it that it made him chuckle. “Don’t laugh. Okay, so Sawyer, the criminal guy, Kate, the-”

“The criminal girl.”

“Right, and Jack, the doctor, have been captured by the Others. Jack’s locked in some aquarium room, and Sawyer and Kate are being kept in cages out in the jungle. The main bad guy, Ben, wants Jack to perform surgery on his spinal tumor, but Juliet, another one of the Others, wants Jack to accidentally-on-purpose kill Ben.”

“Okay.”

“Sawyer and Kate are being forced to do hard labor, and this one guy whose wife was killed by another Lostie…er, another person from the crash. Anyway, this guy hates Sawyer for some reason and is looking for any reason to kill him. Kate’s worried because she’s secretly in love with Sawyer.”

Logan laughed. “She’s secretly in love with him?”

Jean gave him a mock-glare. “Yeah. Well, maybe not secretly. She said that she loves him a couple of episodes ago to keep the angry guy from beating Sawyer to a pulp, but she’s trying to play it off now because she’s terrified of screwing up another relationship. This episode’s flashbacks are of her failed marriage. Oh, and there’s a sort of love triangle thing going on between Sawyer, Kate, and Jack. Kate’s sort of bounced around between the two of them for the past two seasons.”

“Ah. So, what’s going on right now?”

Jean looked at the TV, which was paused on a dark, greenish room. “Juliet’s made Kate go and try to talk Jack into doing the surgery on Ben. And Kate’s only doing it because Juliet said the angry guy would kill Sawyer if she didn’t,” Jean explained. “So, do you have enough info to watch without peppering me with questions?”

He smirked at her. “I’m fine, darlin’. You go on and watch.”

Jean unpaused the show without touching the remote-one of the perks of being telekinetic, Logan thought-and Kate started crying.

Logan ended up grabbing a book left on the coffee table after a few minutes, not because he wasn’t interested so much as he had no idea what was going on, even with Jean’s quick-and-dirty summary. And so he was thoroughly engrossed in Harry Potter when Jean suddenly leapt off of the couch and whooped.

Logan stared.

“Uh,” he said.

Jean did a thoroughly ungraceful pirouette and flung herself back onto the couch. “YES! Finally!”

She stared disbelievingly at the mystified look on Logan’s face. “Weren’t you watching? Sawyer and Kate just got it on!” she said.

“Oh. Uh, damn. No, I was reading.”

Jean rolled her eyes at him. “They just had an angsty moment and then had hot cage sex.”

Logan had to put the book down; he thought he might hurt himself laughing and didn’t want to mess up some poor kid’s copy of The Half-Blood Prince. “Hot cage sex?” he wheezed between laughs. “Oh, I’m sorry I missed that.”

Jean whacked him with a pillow, laughing. “Shut up! It was great! Finally, after so much tension was built up, they gave into their desires.”

“Now you sound like a romance novel.”

“Okay, fine, they got it on. But it was great. I’ve been waiting for this since season one,” she said, rubbing her hands together with glee.

Jean unpaused the show again and settled back onto the couch, engrossed. Logan, on the other hand, watched her; it was good to see her cheerful, as she had seemed faintly out of sorts ever since she came back. Not that he could blame her, of course. She had come back this time with more power than he’d ever seen her wield; not being a psychic, he wasn’t completely clear on it, but it seemed that the Phoenix was all hers now, and she seemed to be doing a good job at keeping it under control.

The thing that had worried him the most was having her come back to find that Emma had taken up seemingly permanent residence in Scott’s bed. But Jean seemed to be taking that in stride as well. The room got chilly when the three of them were together, but Jean, it seemed, had moved on as quickly as Scott had.

Logan wasn’t going to get his hopes up, though, for anything between himself and Jean. He had pushed her away too hard back when she and Scott were on the rocks. He still wanted her, still loved her, but back then, he hadn’t wanted her to come to him out of a sense of revenge or desperation. So he’d pushed. Lied and said that it would never work between them.

He watched her profile for a moment longer before turning his gaze to the television.

..

“God, I can’t believe they left it off there!” Jean groaned, her head in her hands. “What an evil cliffhanger.”

“Don’t worry, Red. I’m sure they won’t kill off the pretty boy.”

“He’s not a pretty boy,” she retorted. “He’s… rough.”

“A bad boy?” Logan said, amusement coloring his voice.

She stuck her tongue out and laughed. “Yeah, he’s the bad boy.”

Logan slung his arm over the back of the couch. “So, explain something to me. Why do you want what’s her name-”

“Kate.”

“Yeah. Why do you want Kate to go for the bad boy? I mean, doctor versus con man?”

“How did you know Sawyer’s a con man?”

“I said I’d seen a few episodes. Answer the question, Red.”

Jean put her heels up on the coffee table, stretching out her legs. “Well… it’s not like the doctor is the most wonderful guy in the world. He has serious issues, too. And Sawyer’s a bad guy, but there’s more to him than that. There’s a lot more underneath his bravado, but he just doesn’t like to let it show. I suppose I want Kate with Sawyer because… they mesh.”

“Mesh?”

Jean fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “Yeah. They complement each other. Kate’s not a completely good person, either. Jack knows this, and it’s always seemed like he’s judged her for it, even though he cares about her. Sawyer knows, and he doesn’t judge. He accepts her and everything she is.”

Logan appeared to mull over this for a moment. “Good point.”

Jean stared down at her lap for a moment, lost in thought. “Yeah.”

“I’m sure the ‘hot cage sex’ helps, too.”

Jean flung a throw pillow at his head.

New Year’s Eve rolled around a few days later, and Jean found herself itching with the urge to escape. Everyone had plastered on smiles and laughter, but underneath the surface, Jean could feel the overwhelming sadness. They were starting a new year without their mentor, not to mention many of their friends. Jean had come back into a very different world.

She slipped out of the back door, shrugging into her coat before stepping out into the chilly night. The sky was still mostly clear, with only a few clouds hovering to the north. Nearly full, the moon hung huge and silver in the sky, its light winning out over the glow of New York City to the south.

The world had shifted while she was gone; friends back from the dead, other friends stripped of their powers, and–on a more personal level–Scott had moved on. Jean had hoped that he would; she had always felt guilty for what happened with Madelyne. It was unfair of her to expect the world to fall right back into place for her, and she had come back this time with no such illusions. She and Scott had spent hours talking, arguing over what should happen between them.

She told him then that she didn’t want him back. Too much had gone wrong, they had both changed too much for it to work.

She had walked away. And he had walked back to Emma.

Jean didn’t pretend that it didn’t hurt, but deep inside, she knew it was for the best.

Wandering across the lawn, she buried her hands in her coat pockets and wished she hadn’t forgotten to pick up a pair of gloves. Her mind tingled a little with someone else’s presence, and she realized that she wasn’t the only one who wanted to get away that night.

“It’s awfully cold out here, darlin’,” a voice said from the shadowy trees, and she walked over to lean against a trunk beside Logan.

“Yep,” she replied, tilting her head back to gaze up through the leaves.

“Felt like taking a walk?”

Jean sighed, her breath fogging in the cold air. “It’s harder to keep everyone else’s thoughts out now,” she said. “And everyone’s so sad, even though they’re trying to hide it. I just couldn’t take anymore. I had to get away from everyone for a while.”

Logan pushed off of the tree. “Do you want me to leave?”

Reaching out, Jean took hold of his sleeve. “No,” she said. “You don’t have to. I… don’t want you to go.”

He nodded and rested his hand against the tree beside her, his body distant but curving around hers. Jean smiled a little; she couldn’t help being reminded of when he had first joined the team. He pushed and flirted and put himself in her space, anything to provoke a reaction. He wasn’t doing that now; his pose was more protective than anything, but he was still provoking a reaction.

No matter how much she had resisted back then, she had always wanted him. And over the years, when he had been torn apart, had torn himself apart and put himself back together, she had fallen in love with him. She had never acted on it; her sense of loyalty to Scott was too strong, but it had always been there, buried far from the front of her mind. She had only kissed him once; he had kissed her a dozen times, at least, but only once did she reach out to him. He had pushed her away, said something that neither of them believed, and the more she thought about it, the more grateful she was.

When she kissed him again, she didn’t want anything standing in her way. No anger, no guilt, no betrayal, just what they both felt.

Sliding her fingers into his hair, she kissed him.

It was a brief kiss, but not a chaste one. She parted her lips against his before pulling back, letting out a shaky breath. His surprise tickled her mind, along with a warm brush of desire.

“What was that for?” he breathed.

Jean let out a breathy laugh, wondering if he’d gone back and watched that episode of Lost again to see what he’d missed. “Because I wanted to kiss you,” she said softly.

He made a noise in the back of his throat, a soft growl that made her skin tingle a little. “Well… do you want to kiss me again, or am I going to have to kiss you this time?” he rumbled, and she laughed again, stepping closer to him.

His arms slid around her waist, and she pressed her body against him, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. She brushed her lips against his, teasing herself as much as him, holding back from the hard, deep kiss she knew was coming until they were both practically trembling with anticipation.

Logan broke first, sliding one hand to the back of her head and slanted his lips against hers, pushing his tongue past her lips. She met him move for move, kissing him back the way she wished she always could have, pressing as close to his body as she could.

They finally broke apart, breathing hard and fast. “Jeannie,” he whispered, spreading his fingers over her back as if he wanted to touch all of her at once. “Are you sure? I mean, there’s a lot of stuff that I remember now. Stuff that ain’t pretty. I’m… I’m not a good guy.”

“Do you remember what I said to you before I died on Asteroid M?” she asked quietly.

He tried to look away, but Jean cupped his face in her hands, making him look her in the eye. “I said that it doesn’t matter who you were. What matters is who you are now,” she said. “You control yourself.”

“I keep falling back, Jeannie,” he murmured.

“Don’t we all?” she replied gently. “Look who you’re talking to, Logan. I know a bit about losing control of myself, too. But does that make me a bad person?”

He looked at her for a long moment. “No. It doesn’t. Because I know you, Jeannie. I know who you are inside.”

“And I’d like to think that I know you pretty well, too, by now,” she said with a smile. “I said I could never hate you because-” she took a deep breath “-I couldn’t say anything else then. But I can say it now.”

He leaned in and kissed her gently. “You don’t have to, darlin’,” he whispered against her lips.

He lifted his head suddenly, looking back toward the mansion. “They’re all cheering. Must be midnight,” he said.

“I can’t think of a better way to ring in the new year,” she said with a grin, then gasped when he pressed her back against the tree.

They kissed long and slow, until Jean felt like her body was overflowing with warm, comfortable desire. She’d been pressed against him before, but this time, knowing that nothing was going to stop them from pressing up against each other naked as soon as they could get to a bedroom, it was a million times better.

“Mmm, c’mon. Let’s go inside, darlin’,” he murmured, nuzzling her cheek.

Twining her fingers with his, they walked across the lawn together, shoulders brushing together comfortably. “Hey, Logan?” she said.

“Yeah?”

“I love you, you know.”

She watched him grin from the corner of her eye and smiled to herself.

“It’s too bad the Danger Room doesn’t work anymore,” Logan said, and she gave him a curious look.

“Why is that?”

He shrugged lightly. “I’m sure it had a jungle cage programmed in there somewhere. You really seem to like the idea of hot cage sex–”

Laughing, he let her tackle him to the damp grass, pulling her hips against his and kissing her. “Wouldn’t you rather do this inside?” he teased. “I’m a tough guy and all, but it’s pretty cold?”

“Mmm, good point,” she said with a grin. “Hot bed sex sounds even more appealing than hot cage sex.”

End

Comments (0) Apr 08 2010

X-Men: Kissing Snippet

Posted: under Fanfiction, X-Men.
Tags: , , ,

Flashes (10.18.01)

by Eiluned

Archive: Please ask first.

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

Rating: Work-Safe

Description: Ultimate X-Men. Fluff. Wolvie/Jean.

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. :)

I love kissing Logan. He doesn’t seem like a kissing kind of guy, but he could do it for hours. He loves it.

All kinds of kisses. Soft, gentle ones. Hard, probing ones. Little nibbles. Deep ones where I almost lose myself in him. Feathery kisses. He likes to trail those all over my body, chuckling when I squirm.

I’d never, *ever* have pegged him as a romantic guy, but this kissing fetish makes me suspicious. Eh, he’d just deny it anyway.

“Mmm… c’mere,” he says and proceeds to kiss me senseless.

End

Comments (0) Apr 08 2010

X-Men: Hurt

Posted: under Fanfiction, X-Men.
Tags: , , , ,

Hurt
by Eiluned

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the X-Men. Woe is I.

Rating: Adult

Summary: It hurts to realize that your lover is thinking of someone else while you’re inside of her. Scott/Jean, shades of Jean/Logan. 616 verse. 135 words.

Notes: Angie asked for Scott acting like Logan in bed with Jean. I’m sure this isn’t exactly what she meant, but when I get inspiration, I have to run with it these days. It’s a smidge over 100 words, but I couldn’t bring myself to cut anything else. Big thanks to Unanon and DivaJess for the editing help.

He rolled her underneath him, touching her reverently. Her eyes were closed tightly, her back arched. He kissed her long and hard, but her eyes stayed shut.

And it suddenly dawned on him.

She was thinking of someone else. Cold anger swept through him.

He grabbed her wrists and pinned her down, thrusting into her more forcefully than he ever had before. She gasped in surprise and pain, her eyes flying open.

“Scott, what are you–?”

He thrust hard again, watching her wince, the anger in his gut turning hot. “You want me to be Logan, so I’ll fuck you like him.”

He might as well have slapped her. She was instantly closed off to him, body and mind. He pulled out and crawled off of the bed, leaving her to curl up alone.

End

Comments (0) Apr 08 2010

X-Men: “Holy Shit” Drabbles

Posted: under Fanfiction, X-Men.
Tags: , , , , , ,

“Holy shit, you’re a virgin.”
Author: Eiluned

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Rating: Adult

Summary: Two short drabbles based on “Holy shit, you’re a virgin.” Ultimate & 616. Wolverine/Jean, Wolverine/Gambit. 100 words each.

Ultimate Logan/Jean

“Holy shit, you’re a virgin.”

Jean blushed a fetching shade of pink. “Yeah, well, you’ll just have to go slow,” she replied.

Logan rose from between her parted legs, looking up and down her beautiful, naked body. Naked, untouched, his for the taking.

“Slow,” he said, sliding inside of her.

Holy shit indeed.


616 Logan/Remy

“Holy shit, you’re a virgin.”

“I’ve had sex before, Gumbo, just not with a guy.”

Remy smiled wickedly at Logan. “Oui, but for me, you’re a virgin.”

Logan snorted. “What are you going to do, deflower me?”

Gambit ran his hands up Logan’s muscular thighs and into his boxer shorts, finding him hard and ready.

“Exactement.”

Comments (0) Apr 08 2010

X-Men: Helen of Troy

Posted: under Fanfiction, X-Men.
Tags: , , ,

Helen of Troy

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Rating: Work-Safe.

Drabble written for x_men100′s Myth challenge. Logan/Jean.

Everyone always said that Paris kidnapped Helen of Troy, but Jean believed otherwise. Helen felt trapped in a life that bored her, and Paris offered her a new life. He excited her, made her feel like a woman again, made her feel more beautiful than the hordes of suitors ever did.

It wasn’t her fault that a war started because she ran off with him.

Jean feels trapped and lonely. She watches Logan, watches him watching her with that hungry, adoring look in his eyes. She wonders if a war would start if she ran away with her own Paris.

Comments (0) Apr 07 2010

X-Men: Heart Imprisoned

Posted: under Fanfiction, X-Men.
Tags: , , ,

Heart Imprisoned
by Eiluned

Date finished: 12 January 2003

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: They belong to Marvel, not me. Like that’s a big surprise. The lyrics belong to Depeche Mode.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: “To the soul’s desires the body listens.” 616. Wolverine/Jean Grey. 1271 words.

Notes: Takes place around Revolution, when Cyclops was “dead.” Creative fudging of timelines has taken place. The lyrics come from the song “When The Body Speaks” on the album Exciter. Damn good album.

Thanks to Deke for the beta read.

To the soul’s desires
The body listens
What the flesh requires
Keeps the heart imprisoned

What the spirit seeks
The mind will follow
When the body speaks
All else is hollow

We’re pressed up against each other and I’m not quite sure how we got here. All I know is that my heart is pounding and my head is spinning and I’m hot and wet and ashamed.

Things were going crazy a few days ago, as usual. It always seems like the best thing to do when you think you’re going to die is kiss. Who wants to die miserable and alone? Might as well go with a smile on your face.

So he kissed me, long and hard, and I kissed him back, for one moment forgetting everything that had happened in the past months. If I was going to die, I was going to die kissing Logan, letting myself feel the burn that I had denied for so long.

Fortunately — or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it — we didn’t die. Things didn’t explode, and we were left staring at each other. There was an unspoken agreement, I think, that we’d pretend it hadn’t happened. No one else had seen it.

And things were awkward after that, to say the least. We didn’t talk to each other much, just shared an occasional look that sent cold shivers down my spine. It’s the kind of look that made me think of things that I didn’t want to think about when my head is clear and the grief over Scott’s death is still fresh. But no matter how much I tried to sweep it from my mind, I kept thinking about the kiss. How his hands tangled in my hair and pulled my mouth down to his. How fire surged up inside of me, making me feel truly alive for the first time in months. How my own hands had grasped at his arms, holding onto him for dear life. How the fear of dying that had choked me abated when his arm slid around my waist and pulled me against his body.

And now we’re standing here in the darkened hallway, bodies so close together that there isn’t air between us. He’s staring at me in that piercing way of his.

“I can’t take this anymore,” I find myself whispering, hot shame burning in the back of my throat.

“Can’t take what?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly.

He shifts against me and I can feel how hard he is. I know he’s aching for me as much as I’m aching for him, but I can’t swallow the sense of betrayal that’s choking me.

“If we do this,” I say very softly, but I know he can hear me, “there can’t be any strings attached. Just… sex,” and his breath catches at the word, “and nothing else. It can’t be anything else.”

Logan just looks at me for a long moment, and I can tell he knows that it could never be like that. But I can sense the conflict. Should he take what he can get and pretend it means nothing, or should he walk away?

He smoothes his hands over my face, and it feels like he’s begging me to take back what I’ve said. I can’t. I can’t betray Scott’s memory, but I can’t ignore the need his kiss stirred up inside of me anymore. I’ll lose my mind if I don’t.

He leans in and kisses me hard, forcing his tongue into my mouth, and I respond in kind, kissing him fiercely. We somehow end up in his room, naked without a thought to taking clothes off. He pushes me onto my back on his bed, his mouth burning a trail over my skin. I clutch at the sheets, letting him work me into a frenzy with his hands and his tongue.

He waits until I’m shaking, grasping helplessly at an orgasm, before crawling up over me, his naked body tense, like a predator ready to attack. My heart stutters, beating against my ribs painfully. I clench my eyes shut when he lowers himself down onto me, settling between my spread legs. His erection rubs against me intimately, ripping a moan from my throat. He braces himself on his forearms, his body pressed against the length of mine, his penis nudging at my opening but not yet inside of me. I turn my head to the side, keeping my eyes closed tightly.

He presses his mouth to my neck, dragging his teeth lightly over my skin. I can feel his breath on my flesh, and he is so very close to being inside of me. For a second, everything crashes down around me, grief sweeping through me in a destroying wave. Silent tears slip from my closed eyes, falling onto the sheet.

His lips brush against my earlobe, making me shiver. “Look at me,” he says quietly.

“I can’t,” I whisper desperately, fighting more tears.

“Yes, you can. Look at me, Jeannie.”

I take a deep breath, feeling an ache in my chest, and open my eyes, turning my head to look at him. His eyes are full of pain and something that looks dangerously like love, and as soon as our eyes meet, he pushes himself inside of me.

I can’t help but cry out. He draws out slowly and thrusts in again, setting a slow rhythm. Sliding one arm under my shoulders, he pulls me against his chest. My own hands move to his waist of their own accord, feeling the hard muscle flex under my touch. He dips his head down to kiss me lightly, and I start to close my eyes again.

“No,” he says gruffly, “I want you to watch me.”

I moan helplessly as his pace quickens, each movement sending a spike of pleasure into my body. “I want you…” he continues, punctuating his words with deep thrusts, “to know… exactly… who’s… inside… of you…”

I hold onto his shoulders, raking my nails over his back in a sudden fit of anger, and wrap my legs more firmly around his hips, moving to meet him. He kisses me roughly, keeping his eyes open, then draws back to watch me.

I can feel an orgasm building, curling around my spine, making my whole body rigid with the promise of release. He pumps into me harder and faster, his breathing ragged. “Look at me, Jean,” he groans, and I can’t tear my eyes away from his face.

His pace slows for a second and he seems to regain a bit of control before speeding up again. “I want you to watch me,” he says, his voice dropping into a low growl, “when you come. Know I’m the one who’s making you come. I want you to watch me when I come inside of you.”

The deep, resounding pulse of an orgasm seizes me, arching my back, but I don’t close my eyes, can’t close my eyes. He pushes himself deep inside of me and holds there, letting me spasm around his erection. I can feel hot tears flowing from my eyes, but I’m so far gone in the pleasure of it that I don’t care.

He draws back and thrusts hard once, twice, and then he’s moaning desperately, clutching me to him. Wet heat bursts inside of me when he comes, and I feel branded. His.

Our foreheads pressed together, we come down slowly. “Jeannie,” he whispers, pressing his lips to my damp cheek, “don’t you understand? It can’t mean nothing. You know it as well as I do. Your body listens to what your heart wants, darlin’.”

As much as it hurts, as much as it feels like betrayal, I know.

“I know,” I whisper, holding onto him.

End

Comments (0) Apr 07 2010

X-Men: Greek Boy

Posted: under Fanfiction, X-Men.
Tags: , , ,

Greek Boy
by Eiluned

Disclaimer: Not Mine.

Rating: Work-Safe

Summary: 100 words on the nose. Logan/Remy in an established relationship. ^_^

“I had de strangest dream, Logan.”

“Yeah?”

“Oui. We were in ancient Greece.”

Logan snorted into his pillow, and Remy elbowed him. “Shut up. You were a satyr and I was one of dem naked athlete boys. I was running t’rough de forest and you were chasing me.”

“Oh really? Did I catch you?”

“I’m getting dere. So, I’m running but I know dat you’re right behind me. All of de sudden, I trip and fall, and you catch me.”

“And what did I do when I caught you?”

“Should I tell you or show you?” he said, grinning wickedly.

Comments (0) Apr 07 2010

X-Men: Good Guy

Posted: under Fanfiction, X-Men.
Tags: , , ,

Good Guy
by Eiluned

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Rating: Work-Safe

X2; Logan/Jean UST. 108 words because I couldn’t bring myself to cut any more.

For Deke. Thanks for the lines. ;) The first two lines are from X2, so I suppose this could be a little spoilery.

—-

“Girls flirt with the bad boy, they don’t bring them home. They marry the good guy.”

“I could be the good guy.”

Jean turned to look at him, to see if he was being sincere or his typical smart-ass self. The look on Logan’s face unsettled her. It stirred up feelings, wishes, curiosity that she’d buried the day she met him. “No–”

“You don’t think that I might actually want a normal life? Have 2.5 kids and a white picket fence?” he said.

Jean couldn’t help smiling. “No.”

He shrugged. “Maybe not the kids and the picket fence, but I could. I could be the good guy.”

Comments (0) Apr 07 2010

X-Men: Good Boy

Posted: under Fanfiction, X-Men.
Tags: , , ,

Good Boy

by Eiluned

Date finished: 27 October 2001

Archive: Please ask first.

Disclaimer: They belong to Marvel, and the only reason Wolvie isn’t coming back with a bunch of bruises is because of that healing factor.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: What would happen if the Black Queen got her hands on a Wolverine? Erotica, BDSM, Kink. Wolverine/Jean. 2687 words.

Warnings: BDSM, extreme sex. Some of the subject matter might squick the hell out of those with a fainter disposition. If you don’t care for erotic pain, you might want to skip this.

Notes: Plays off of the whole leather-and-whips, Hellfire Club thing, but doesn’t take place around the Black Queen time. This is for my anonymous friend. ;) Hope you like it. Thanks to Devil Doll and Deke for the beta reads.

Logan woke up chained, blindfolded and gagged.

Obviously, something was amiss.

He pulled at his bonds, but they were tight. He popped his claws, but his arms were tied so that he couldn’t do anything more than flex his wrists a couple of inches. Couldn’t cut through anything. At least he was upright and not upside down.

‘Flamin’ hell,’ he thought. ‘What’ve I gotten myself into now?’

His ears pricked at the sound of soft, sultry laughter. The sharp click of high heels on tile was next, coming slowly closer to him. He took a deep breath through his nose.

“Jeannie?!” he tried to say, but all that came out from around the leather gag was a muffled, “Eeeneh!”

That laugh again, slow and sticky-sweet, like honey. Hands clad in buttery soft leather slid across his chest and over his stomach — and to add insult to injury, he realized that he was naked — and down to cup his formerly uninterested genitals. He let out a muffled groan as her small, sure hands stroked him to hardness.

Just when he was really starting to get into it, to thrust his hips forward into her hands, she stopped. Damn. It. He grunted and started to thrust his hips again, but stopped cold when he felt the unmistakable bite of a blade at his throat.

“I think somebody’s been a bad Wolverine,” she purred, voice all silk, dripping honey and poison. “I think somebody needs to be punished.”

She squeezed his cock painfully hard for a second, making him whimper. (‘Jesus, did I just whimper?’ he thought.) Then, she slipped something stretchy and constricting over the head of it. He groaned helplessly, unable to stop his hips from moving.

The blade moved a little closer to breaking the skin, and he froze. “Be a good boy and hold still,” she hissed, then slid whatever the hell that thing was all the way down his erection.

It felt like a warm, tight pussy. He moaned but held perfectly still. She let out a satisfied chuckle. “That a’boy. Now, here are the rules. You can’t come until I say you can. You have to stay quiet. And you have to be hard when I get back, just as hard as you are right now. If you fail any of the criteria, I’ll leave you here for hours. If you pass, I’ll play with you some more, and maybe let you feel a real pussy. Nod your head if you understand,” she said.

Swallowing hard, he nodded slowly. “That’s my good Wolverine,” she purred against his ear. “I’ll be back.”

With that, she squeezed the thing that was around his cock, and it began writhing and pulsating, squeezing and rubbing him. He nearly choked, but managed to not make a noise. Listening to the click of her heels move farther away, he tried to focus himself. Usually, he could easily keep himself from coming, despite any stimulus. At that moment, though, he was having much more difficult of a time. He was blind and immobilized, completely vulnerable and completely turned on.

It took some experimentation and a lot of control, but he finally managed to find a good balance between ignoring and feeling the pleasure. He probably could have stayed in that state of mind for quite a while, if the device hasn’t suddenly sped up. He gritted his teeth, biting down on the gag so hard that he worried he’d bite it in half.

Just when he thought he was about to lose it and come, it stopped. He nearly sobbed with relief, but bit down on gag instead. It had probably been only ten minutes, but it had felt like hours. The thing slipped off of his cock suddenly, making him suck in a sharp breath through his nose.

“Oh, you were such a good boy, Logan,” she whispered suddenly, and he jumped; he hadn’t heard her come back over the roaring in his ears.

“I think you deserve a reward,” she continued, rubbing his nipples with her fingertips. Suddenly, the wall he thought was behind him tilted backwards ninety degrees. He let out a muffled yell of surprise, ending up flat on his back.

“Tsk, tsk. You weren’t supposed to make any noise. I suppose I’ll have to punish you for that,” she said, heels clicking on the floor again. “But I won’t punish you too harshly, since you behaved so well while I was gone.”

The table (he assumed it was a table) shifted slightly when she boosted herself up onto it. Silk-soft skin (or was it really silk?) brushed against his naked hip, and he gritted his teeth around the gag.

Her leather-gloved hand petted the side of his face gently, fingers smoothing down his sideburn. “I’m going to take the gag off of you, but you’re to stay quiet until I say, understand?” she said.

He nodded, then felt her lift his head up and unbuckle the gag. He stretched his jaw as soon as it was out of his mouth. “Now,” she whispered, “I want you to get your Mistress good and wet. If you can make me come, maybe your punishment will be a little less severe.”

He nodded again, this time with anticipation. He listened to her move around, then felt the insides of her thighs brush the sides of his face, leather against his raised arms. “Put that tongue to use, baby,” she hissed and pressed her sex down onto his mouth.

He breathed in through his nose, taking in her scent, then opened his mouth and got to work. She sighed when he pushed his tongue into her, moaned and writhed when he flickered it over her clit, bucked when he licked her long and hard.

He strained his imagination against the blackness of his vision, tried to picture her writhing on his face, cupping her breasts, playing with her nipples. Her hips started to move in little circles and her moans took on a more frantic edge, so he focused on her clit, flicking it hard, rubbing the point of his tongue against it, willing her to come even though he probably wasn’t supposed to will anything on her.

She stiffened suddenly, her thighs tightening, and she let out a sharp cry. ‘Oh yes,’ he thought, bearing down on her clit. She moaned and shuddered, bucking on his mouth a few more times before going limp. “Oh…” she panted, “you’re so good. I almost don’t want to punish you after that.”

She shifted off of his face, her silky legs rubbing against his arms. “But you broke my rule. Time for your punishment.”

She straddled his hips, pressing her slick sex down onto his erection. He clenched his teeth, biting back a moan. God, she was so hot and wet; he wanted to flip her over and hold her down, fuck her until she was begging for mercy.

He heard her laugh darkly. “Oh, that was a naughty thought,” she said softly, dangerously. “Don’t you know that you shouldn’t think things like that about your Mistress?”

He shifted his hips underneath her defiantly. He heard the ‘snick’ of a blade opening an instant before its cold surface was pressed against his collarbone.

“I think you need to learn to behave,” she said coldly. “You think you’re still in charge here? Well, surprise. You have no power here, especially over me. You need to get that into your head, Wolverine.”

The knife was razor-sharp. It slid across his pectoral, slicing a shallow line, the blade cutting through his skin cleanly. He gasped at the stinging pain, then again at the rush of cold air against his damp cock when she lifted herself off of him.

The blade but into him again, lower, on his stomach, just a nick this time. Again, another long line drawn across his ribs. He felt thin drops of blood slide down his side before the cut healed.

He gasped with each burning kiss of the blade, unable to ready himself for the pain. He couldn’t see, so he guessed where the next cut would come, only to have it slice into him where he least expected it. His eyes stung with unwanted tears, but he was getting harder, his cock straining away from his body.

He was panting, nearly sobbing when she finally stopped. “Do you understand now?” she said breathlessly. “Do you know who holds the leash here? You can answer me.”

“Yes!” he gasped.

“Yes what?” she hissed, and he felt the tip of the knife prick at his throat.

“Yes, Mistress!” he cried, completely gone; he was so desperate and under her control that he would have jumped off of a cliff if she told him to.

“Who? Who’s in control?”

“You, Mistress, you.”

The knife clattered to the floor somewhere under his feet. “Good boy,” she whispered. “Good, good boy. I think you’ve had enough punishment. How about a reward for learning?”

“Please, Mistress.”

“Would you like me to ride that big cock of yours, pet?”

He moaned and his erection jerked. “Yes, Mistress, please…”

“Are you going to make your Mistress feel good with it?”

“Yes, Mistress…”

She leaned down so that her bare breasts brushed against his chest and her hot mouth was against his ear. “Would you like for me to take your blindfold off so you can watch?” she purred, licking his earlobe.

“Oh, god, yes please…”

“Please what?” she sing-songed.

“Please, Mistress, I want to see you…”

The blindfold suddenly slid off of his eyes and he blinked rapidly. It wasn’t very bright in the room, but after seeing only darkness for so long, his eyes were sensitive.

She sat up on top of him, and his breath left his lungs at the sight of her. Her red hair was piled on top of her head and a few loose curls draped over her shoulders to brush at her pink nipples. His eyes raced over her, taking in darkly lined eyes, deep ruby lips, white, white skin encased in black leather. Soft leather gloves stretched to above her elbows.

She had pushed the cups of her merrywidow down so that her large breasts were bare but still pushed up. The corset cinched her already slender waist even smaller. Garter straps snaked over her naked hips down to sheer black stockings, and leather boots laced up to her knees. He moaned.

“Do you like what you see?” she said softly.

“Yes, Mistress, you’re beautiful.”

She smiled a coy little smile. “Are you ready, my pet?” she asked, just barely rubbing herself against his erection.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her sex, glistening with wetness, poised just millimeters from his cock. “Oh, god, I’m ready, Mistress,” he panted.

She lifted herself up, tilted him into position, then slowly sank down onto it, talking only the broad head in. Logan moaned desperately, watching her slide lower and lower, watching his thick cock stretch her open. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of her pink lips stretched around his erection.

She let out a low moan and slid down the rest of the way, until his balls were nestled against her ass. “Mmm, that’s good, pet. You’re such a big boy,” she breathed. “Now, be good and don’t come until I tell you.”

“Mistress…”

“Yes?”

“May I moan, please?”

She smiled indulgently down at him. “Of course you may, darling. You behaved very well during your punishment, so you can make all the noise you want.”

She leaned forward again. “In fact, I want you to be loud. I want to hear just how good I make you feel.” She squeezed him inside of her and he groaned. “Yes, just like that,” she whispered.

Lifting herself up, she thrust herself onto him shallowly, letting just the head move in and out. “Oh, I like the way that feels, pet,” she said. “You’re so big. Do you like the way I feel around your cock?”

He whimpered. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Tell me how it feels,” she said, sliding back down all the way.

He gasped. “Ohh… tight… and wet. You’re so wet… oh… You’re so tight that… that it feels like I shouldn’t fit inside of you,” he panted, his bound hands opening and closing on nothing.

She sighed, rocking back and forth slowly. “Mmm… tell me more, pet.”

“You’re… unngh… slippery… and smooth…”

He was rapidly passing the point where coherent speech was lost. She started rocking a little faster, her gloved hands coming to play with her nipples. “Watch my hands, Wolverine,” she said, “and tell me what you like best about fucking your Mistress.”

His cock was pulsing, and he had to grit his teeth hard to fight the urge to come. “I like… oh, god!” he moaned, watching her squeeze her nipples hard.

“Keep talking, pet, or I won’t let you come at all.”

He closed his eyes for a second and focused himself enough to talk. “I like watching your cunt grip my cock when you lift up,” he growled, barely keeping himself from coming.

Her green eyes flashed, and she started rising up and down on him, making him moan. “Keep watching my hands,” she whispered, squeezing her nipples one last time, the black leather of her gloves a stark contrast to her fair skin.

Palms flat, she smoothed her hands down her body and between her thighs, down to hold herself open so he had a good view of himself penetrating her. She pressed down all the way, rocking on him for a second, then lifted up slowly, clenching her muscles around him. He panted, eyes wide, staring.

Smirking, she reached up and took hold of a hanging ring that he didn’t notice before. Using it to brace herself, she started pumping herself on him hard, teasing her clit with her free hand. “Remember, sweetheart,” she said somewhat breathlessly, “you can’t come until I tell you to.”

With that, she tilted her head back and rode him hard, rubbing her clit, sliding her fingers back to touch his cock, moaning and gasping. Jesus, it pushed him right to the edge. He could feel his orgasm hovering, wanting to rip through him, but he fought it back.

She fingered her clit frantically, then arched her back, thrusting her breasts out. “Oh, I’m coming!” she cried out, and he felt her sex tighten around his cock, clenching rhythmically.

He bit into his bottom lip to keep himself under control. She bucked on him, gasping and crying out, grinding her clit against his pelvic bone. After a few teeth-grinding moments, she slowed down, breathing hard. “Mmm… oh, that was so good,” she said, bringing her hand to his mouth so he could lick her juices off of her fingertips.

“Mistress, may I come now?” he asked desperately.

She gave him a wicked smile. “Oh, are you ready?” she asked, laughing at his frenzied moan. “I suppose I could indulge you a bit. You have been very good for your Mistress.

“All right, you can come,” she said, and started a hard rhythm.

Now that he had permission, it didn’t take much. Two thrusts and he was howling, shouting, cock jetting semen deep inside of her for what felt like forever. The world seemed to spin out from underneath him, and he blacked out.

When he came to, Jean was still on top of him, still on his cock. She paused in wiping his chest clean with a damp cloth to smile at him. “You okay?” she asked, her voice no longer the dangerous, sultry purr from earlier.

“Yeah,” he croaked, swallowing.

Still smiling, she opened the restraints around his wrists, then popped the ones around his ankles open with her mind. He moaned in relief and stretched.

“It wasn’t too intense, was it?” she said, looking faintly worried.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down to lay on his chest. “Let’s just say we can’t do that all the time. You might kill me,” he rumbled, smiling at her laughter.

End

Comments (0) Apr 07 2010