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kneelingshadowsalome · 8 months

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Minotaur!König x Ariadne!Reader Theseus is dead. You’re escorting the Minotaur, more beast than a man, out of the Labyrinth. The problem is, he seems to be more interested in what’s between your legs than in his mission of killing the notorious king of Crete… (12 k. Minotaur is not an actual hybrid in this fic. Reader is Hecate’s initiate. Part 1 here.) Tags/warnings: Shameless smut mdni, dubious consent, extremely possessive behaviour, abduction, first time (König & reader are both virgins), hugs & cuddles, washing blood off your monster boyfriend, awkward flirting, semi-rough sex, shifting power dynamics, sexist insults & slurs (the citizens of Crete do not approve of your choices), implied cannibalism, fluffy ending. Mythical AU.

The candle goes out before you reach the surface.

To someone else, it would be the end of the world: to you, it’s only a hindrance, a nuisance, mostly.

You’re not easily distressed. If you were, you wouldn’t be in the service of the greatest goddess of the Underworld. And you’re not mourning losing the sight of your warmly illuminated beast... You’re only worried about what he will do once the darkness descends. Whether he will forget about his vow, whether the baser instincts take over him once the darkness falls.

And darkness is not capable of making you lost: you can always follow the string in your hand. But without light, it’s difficult to predict the Bull’s moves: whether he decides to maim or fuck you against the wall, you can never tell. He hasn’t lived in the real world among people; he doesn’t know what’s right or wrong and what’s expected of him. Even the best of men can succumb to the demands of the flesh, so what power would a Bull Man have against his animal wants? No one ever taught him to respect the gods, let alone the maidens who serve them...

Then again, if a simple candle was the only thing that kept you alive, then what’s the point of lamenting the loss of it? Your life was already forfeit when you chose to descend here.

So you let it go: as always, the greatest lesson in life is to simply let go. Of control, of judgment, of fear, of hope.

He doesn’t say a thing when the light flickers, then fades. The candle goes out in silence, and you let it drop before the remaining wax burns your palm.

And it’s not the absence of light, but strength, that forces you on your knees before even an hour has passed. There’s still a long way to go, and the yarn is like a thin string of hope in your hand, but you’re too exhausted, too worn out, too hungry and too tired to go on.

The Bull Man doesn’t object to your suggestion to lay down and sleep for a while. He has walked behind you in silence the whole day. Or night… You can’t tell the difference; you lost count somewhere along the way down here. The air is stale and humid, and there’s no torch, not a single candle anywhere and even if there were, you wouldn’t do anything with them without a flint.

The horror is kept at bay only through your numerous exercises with the goddess who introduced you to darkness many, many moons ago. You were initiated during the dark Moon, the new Moon, the blood Moon, introduced to the mysteries of the maiden, mother and crone, to the secrets of both the living and the dead. You’re not afraid, but your body still warns you of danger: you just don’t know if it’s a memory from childhood or a reaction to the Bull, panting behind you – out of lust or exertion, you don’t even know. Someone who wasn’t a maiden probably could tell… At times, you curse the fact that there hasn’t been a single phallus inside you because men too possess knowledge. Taking a man into your bed would have initiated you to a different set of mysteries, but now, you are poking blind.

The Bull Man is an animal, you remind yourself. The longer you stay in his company, the more he starts to resemble a human, even if he is a man of few words. How he even remembers them is another mystery: you thought he was sent down here as a young boy. He speaks oddly but eloquently, a remnant of his noble descent, perhaps. Or perhaps he has listened to the people speaking in the Labyrinth, eavesdropped his victims an hour or two before killing them. Whatever the reason, you have to constantly tie your tongue because there’s simply no point in talking to a beast. The less you know about him and his past, the better.

You ready yourself for sleep, but the cursed cold of the tunnels keeps your body awake. Your flesh is human even if your mind is forged to withstand hunger, thirst and pain. Endurance against cold was never your strong suit, and you miss the heat of the sun, the warmth of it on your skin, even the ample light it gives. You, a lover of the moon, missing the heat of Apollo… It’s a joke, surely.

On the stone floor, it’s even colder, the rough, damp ground making your very bones ache. How on Hecate’s name has the beast survived this place?

“Bull Man,” you speak into the darkness, thick like an impenetrable wall and thin like a virgin’s veil.

“Maiden,” he echoes with a dark, low growl, slightly amused by the name you’ve selected for him.

“Are you cold?” You whisper.

Perhaps he doesn’t quite understand the question or why you asked it. It doesn’t matter: you have to swallow your pride and ask for his help if you’re going to survive this dark prison.

“I don’t get cold,” he finally responds.

“Good. I need your heat.”

The silence drags on, and you fear he has misunderstood you again, but then he speaks again, with the same slightly amused tone as before.

“Come take it.”

You’re not sure if you’ve completely lost your mind, crawling to him through the uneven floor of the Labyrinth. Who knows what he will do to you once he gets those arms of iron around you? You’re placing your maidenhood, your whole body at his mercy. And you’re not even sure if it’s a he, if this thing is human at all.

Human or animal, your hand meets the bull’s head on the way to him. He has taken it off, then... It’s not a part of him, just like you suspected. Maybe he is just a giant, daunting man, born from whatever forbidden desire Pasiphae had. Who knows if she only went to a foreign lover’s arms when her husband was at war? Who knows if King Minos has trouble getting his phallus up… These things happen: women get pregnant from their lovers, they do desperate things to pacify their husbands. And you don’t need a bull to get yourself an heir...

You feel his heat before you feel his skin: the Minotaur is verily blazing. He has gotten used to the cold, it seems, his body like a small bonfire in the clammy tunnel.

“Cold little female,” he comments when you snuggle towards him shyly, thoroughly aware of the uninviting chill of your body.

You settle next to him, every muscle in your body tight like a bowstring, your breaths shallow when he gives you a welcoming rumble. Goosebumps prickle across your skin and your throat goes dry, the thick swallow in the tunnel echoing around you like a thief.

Arms like iron go around you, and his body is taut, just like yours, but for a whole different reason entirely. He’s not afraid or nervous; he’s just… big. Pure muscle, his whole body thick, the stock and heat of him remind you of the sun. A miniature sun down here in these dark tunnels, but while you start to slowly soften in his arms, a different threat is already emerging. It doesn’t take long before his cock stiffens against you, and with the scarce clothing you both have, you can feel its every excited twitch.

Artemis… Protect me from this beast. Turn him into a dog if he tries to penetrate me. Let him rip my throat instead…

You’ve never prayed to the Virgin Goddess; you don’t know if she can even hear you from down here. But Hecate would only laugh if this Bull decided to breed you. No mercy would arrive from that direction: she would either send a disease of blisters upon the Minotaur for touching her chosen or then she would cackle like an old woman, thousand times raped.

“Thank you,” you whisper, hoping your kindness will distract him from what’s happening downstairs.

“My pleasure,” he grumbles, mimicking the words he probably heard as a child in his father’s great hall.

It sends a chill down your spine and butterflies into your heart to hear him speak like a polite man of court. And again, you think of asking him about his childhood... His mother, his father, the things he remembers from the surface. How he survived here without water, if there are underground springs here somewhere. Whether he eats humans like they say... If he ever embraced the dead women he killed.

“Can you do it again,” he rumbles against you, cutting you away from your grotesque thoughts.

“...Do what again?”

“Touch me… With your hand.”

His words are blunt now, his speech clumsy. But the way he says it is not an order. It’s an odd beg, more like. Laced with hope and wishes far away from greed. This Bull is never greedy, per se… He’s just lacking. Starved, for so many things that you fear there’s not enough time nor kindness to give him what he needs.

Your pulse flutters when you slowly lift your hand and caress the strong cords of muscle that make his neck. The rumbling returns; it turns into a low purr as the beast relaxes under your touch. Something softens inside you when he sighs from relief. His unbridled happiness tugs at your heart, trying to yank open something forbidden. It’s the softest violation you’ve ever felt: to be held by a giant killer having a roaring erection, while the said killer clearly enjoys your caress like it’s the touch of Aphrodite herself…

You even stroke his face. His jaw, unclenching under your touch; his cheek, covered with what you suppose is simply a wild, overgrown beard.

“Your hand,” he groans softly, “makes me sleepy and warm…”

The cold, uncaring goddess recedes. The burdens of past, present and future dissolve. Softness takes place in your heart; the iron locks give in like brittle brass. A smile plays on your lips as you continue to pet him softly, lulling you both to sleep with your voice.

“Then sleep, Bull of Crete...”

…

You wake up to his cock pressing against you.

Not against your stomach like when you went to sleep – that you could do with – but against your cunt, barely veiled by the thin linen of your dress.

The panic is soon wrestled down with reason: you tell yourself it’s just a cock. It’s just him. You’re simply in the Minotaur’s arms, and he’s sound asleep still; there’s no reason to buck and jerk and scream.

The darkness feels like a safe womb now, but with nothing to lock your gaze to, you have to take a moment to ground yourself into reality. And the first thing you ground into is a thick cockhead, pressing fast into your nether lips. He’s practically at the gates, and you’re lucky he’s still asleep.

It’s perhaps your fault this happened in the first place: you notice you’ve dragged your thigh over his hip; as if wanting him to fuck you in your sleep… You embrace him like Helen of Troy, and he holds you through his sleep like a man in love, perfectly content with napping on the cold ground with you.

“Mm…” The beast stirs, probably noticing how the female in his arms is tense as a rod. “You smell like you want to fuck…”

“No I don’t,” you hurry to whisper.

Gods curse this man’s ability to smell everything from miles away. Blood and humans and, apparently, a woman at her most receptive.

What if he can actually smell the wetness between your legs?

“We need to go,” you slowly remove your leg from on top of his waist, hoping it would go unnoticed that you were clutching him like a lover. You have no such luck: he grabs your thigh and draws it back, sets it safe and snug around his waist while adjusting his grip on you, now hugging you entirely like a lover would.

“I want to mate with you,” he says softly. “You want to mate too. Why go?”

He sounds so adorable when he’s still in the process of waking up to a new day. Drowsy and sweet, voice husky from sleep, body warm as can be, the hard-on between his legs happy and stiff.

“I thought you wanted to kill the king,” you try to point out.

“This is more important,” he gruffs. “Urgent.”

The cock pushes further up and against you, now spreading your folds under the dress, trying to penetrate into your heat. Your eyes go wide as thick need pools down to meet his greed. His body, his cock makes your head go dull for a moment; you feel like you’re not even capable of thinking actual thoughts.

“No, it’s not. We need to get up.”

You stiffen in his arms, push yourself away, and to your surprise, he actually lets you go. Reluctantly and with a hollow grunt, but he lets you go.

You rise with a wobble, and adjust your dress, your head spinning from his advances. You swear he becomes more man-like every day, every passing hour, even. Or is it just you who’s changing…?

The Bull Man is up before you get to ponder on that thought for too long. Your heart and head struggle to find their footing for a moment, your legs are so weak you feel like fainting. He catches you before you fall, the warm, thick arms closing around you with stout affection.

“You need more heat?” He asks softly.

You look up out of habit, even if you can't see his eyes, covered by the carcass again because his voice is muffled.

“No… I’m hungry.”

He’s silent for a moment, probably thinking what he could do to help the situation. You fear he will suggest you go back to visit his “pantry” and eat whatever horrible, half-rotten man-flesh he might have in store there, but he only holds you close to prevent you from sliding back to the ground.

“Hmm. No mice up here,” he ponders.

“You eat mice…?”

“Sometimes.”

You leave it at that: you don’t want to know what he’s had to do to sustain himself down here. You don’t even have a fire to cook the vermin, even if you would be ready to eat even those after another day or two without food.

“Not a long way up,” he says. “We will reach the sun soon. Then I’ll find you something to eat.”

“How do you know that…?”

“The air smells different.”

You sigh and search for the string, your lifeline to the outside world. You can’t wait to get out of here, and with both hurry and an odd dread, you hike for what seems like another whole day. Tension, hunger and thirst distort your thoughts, and you’re sure by now that the time flows differently here in the Underworld. With no small amount of pride, you feel accomplished to have survived this place so far. Even gods have had to do some tricks to escape the nether worlds: it is no small feat to charm the Minotaur and then walk out of here unharmed.

To your knowledge, you’re the only one who has ever escaped the Labyrinth. You haven’t even had time to think about what you will unleash with you… The demon that walks on your heels will take his revenge, not only on the king but on the city who threw him here.

Well. It’s their problem now. Minos and Pasiphae simply have to deal with their successor. The world will simply have to deal with the Underworld’s wrath.

And oh, how Hecate would laugh if she saw this monster prince of Crete escape his prison because of you – the feared Minotaur set free, only because he’s mesmerized by a woman. You suspect he would have his cock jumping for any girl, though. It's not because you're an exceptional sorceress that he follows you: it's your cunt he's after. And it shouldn’t make you feel jealous that he probably gets distracted the moment he sees a better offer walk by.

But it does. In your darkest wishes, you would keep the Bull Man all to yourself. Get him a leash, perhaps... Feed him with your own hands and let him grope you in the dark, watch him go wild from lust when you finally give him access to your cunt.

Many would hardly think you’re a virgin if they took a peek inside your head. But the things you’ve seen and done, the white bulls you’ve slaughtered for the dark Goddess, adorning them with cypress wreaths before slashing their throats open, would turn any woman bleak and twisted like this. For once, you would like to save the bull from slaughter.

When you see the first evidence of light, your body lets out a sigh it has been holding ever since you arrived here. Seeing the sun gives you more strength than any food or meal, and you pick up your pace while the Minotaur behind you begins to hesitate.

“It’s too bright,” he says before you’ve even walked out of the tunnel, now turning into a vast cave, the entrance to the Labyrinth.

You turn around to look and stop in your tracks when you see the fear in his eyes is acute. It’s mixed with wonder, the curiosity wrestling away doubt slowly but surely. He only needs a little nudge, a gentle pull, an enticing little smile and eyes that he can trust.

“You’ll get used to it soon,” you extend your hand.

He takes a step, then another, then another, until he reaches your outstretched fingers, and hand in hand you walk out of the Labyrinth and into the bright morning sun, burning over the kingdom of Crete.

He’s only a breath away from panicking, but covers it well. You wonder if it’s truly the light that’s too bright or if the feeling of being so exposed is what makes him so afraid. Clearly, the vast space opening up before him is intimidating.

There are grassy plains as far as the eye can see, little hills that dot the horizon, and skies so expansive and bright it must hurt his eyes. Goats are grazing under the sun, trees are bending in the wind, the rustling of leaves and the sound of birds calling him to look in all directions as he tries to make some sense of his surroundings.

“It’s alright,” you give his palm a soft squeeze, and the way he looks there under the sun, so big and powerful and able, and still so utterly lost, is giving you heartache you haven’t known since you were a child.

“There’s… so many colours,” he says, looking at the blue summer sky, the deep olive greens, the dirty whiteness of the goats, the flowers upon the grass. A butterfly, flying past, yellow like the citrus that people harvest from a few miles from here. A big blackbird with an orange beak, swooping down to catch a cricket, the slate grey pigeons flying so close to the sun that he has to shield his eyes even if they’re already safe and sheltered under the bull head.

Seeing his wonder and awe makes you look at the scenery so differently that it burns, it actually hurts: there’s so much beauty in the world, and you have always taken it for granted. Cursed the rain and the storms, cursed the droughts, cursed the gods for sending down another famine, when in truth, the world was filled with abundance, of colours, of life and joy… And all you’ve done is worship darkness. Now the darkness is out: it’s standing next to you, watching the view of your mundane everyday life like it’s nothing short of a miracle.

And when you turn back to look at him again, his eyes are upon you.

“What?” You ask, freshly caught in your moment of weakness.

“You are pretty,” he says, eyes wrinkling with delight under the mask.

Gods damn him…

He doesn’t know that human men don’t act like this, talk like this, or if they do, there’s usually something vile involved behind it all. He doesn’t know how to play games, he was never introduced to the lies and deceit of the world.

The Bull of Crete only looks at you with soft fondness in his stare – he doesn’t understand that he should cover that softness as well if he intends to win. Any woman could put a leash on him before another moon has passed, but he doesn’t seem to care. And it’s not even heat or hunger that makes you weak this time... It’s those eyes, looking at you with more and more warmth.

“Nonsense,” you huff without a voice, and turn towards the old road with an adoring bull on your heels.

The cold sigh of the underworld is quickly left behind you as you walk up the old carriage road, nearly grown in with weeds. The Labyrinth is located miles away from civilization, but the people living in these hills are used to the cold cave by now. They trust that the Minotaur will never escape and only turn away their heads and close the doors of their huts when the screaming, crying human sacrifices are delivered to the mouth of the cave. Little do they know that the monster is now looking at their little hills and goats with delight, not bloodlust.

For the Minotaur is fascinated with your world: he has to touch every leaf, every tree, every blade of grass, it seems. The goats are afraid of him, but one small nanny is bold enough to come and sniff his hand. Perhaps it remembers that beings walking on two feet give her apples sometimes, and the giant studies this small white animal with gentle curiosity, allows the goat to smell his hand, only chuckles when the goat gives out a little scoff when she notices there are no treats to be found there.

The vision is more adorable than when you’ve seen children play with kittens, and no matter what you do, you can’t turn your heart into ice anymore. You were taught that the Minotaur is a monster who enjoys torturing his victims, creatures far more helpless than him. Now you see him watching the she-goat with warm curiosity, rumbling softly inside his helm, far from the ravaging beast that approached you in that tunnel what seems like months ago.

You watch him with tender sadness as he marvels at the sky and remembers how he used to sit in the shade of an olive tree when he was a child. He goes to sit there now and examines how the sun filters through the massive branches of the tree as if trying to recall the memory.

He asks questions like: “How can you humans stand this heat?” or “Why is there only one road?” and listens to your answers carefully.

He says he can smell the sea, even if the salty water is miles and miles away, and gets curious about what’s behind that hill, or that one, what about that one… You wonder if he’s even interested in killing the king anymore and suggest that he could just forget about this cruel place and buy himself a sea voyage with that expensive sword. He could get rid of his helmet and ask if anyone needs a goat herd or an able-bodied man to help at construction sites or stables; he could get work from the docks any day, sail to Athens or some other big city, forge himself a new life.

But he doesn’t want to.

He says he has to avenge his mother who always cried when he was little.

More wretched tugs pull at your heart as you approach the city. The lovely summer’s day turns into a nightmare once people see who’s on his way to the heart of Crete.

You don’t understand their screams, not anymore, while only a few days ago you knew they preceded death. The Minotaur doesn’t kill anyone, mainly because he doesn’t have to. Everyone flees before his wake, people rush to their homes and bar the doors, even soldiers slip away to be with their loved ones or run to warn the king if they have any loyalty left.

You’re left to walk through the marketplace in settling dust and tense silence as the Bull Man explores the abundant samples of food on display. He has to have a taste of everything from all stands, but only after he has offered figs, olives, grain, grapes, grilled meat and fish to you first.

“Eat,” he says and shoves a handful of pine seeds your way. “You were hungry?”

“This is not the way to–” you ignore the food only through sheer willpower. “This is not right. People own these things. They sell them at the market, you need to pay for these.”

“Pay? With what?”

He looks at you for a moment, unable to recall what money is and how these things are supposed to work. He probably had his mother’s servants bring him everything he needed as a child anyway, so how could he know?

“They will take your hands for stealing,” you try to explain with softly building despair.

“I will take their heads before that.”

“The next king will hunt you down and punish you,” you rush after him, and when he won’t listen, you seize his hand and finally get him to halt. He looks down at the weak palm around his wrist, then raises his gaze to you.

“Bulls don’t have kings.”

Your attempts to tame him are futile. The things they’ve taught him to be are now being used as a way to escape responsibility, and while it’s none of your business, you refuse to let him believe that he is nothing more than an animal.

“You are not a bull,” you wail in frustration. “You’re a man.”

He hesitates, only for a moment; the gentle, loving gaze makes your legs weak.

“You’re the first to think that.”

Then he rips himself away from you, softly but sternly.

He doesn’t need directions to the palace: he knows he has to head for the most prominent building in the city to reach the king. The grandiose heart of Crete, white-chalked and beautiful under the burning midday sun is the pride of every citizen, even if it houses another monster.

You sigh as you watch him go: the Bull Man, the demon of the underworld, the one you thought would rape you bloody before you get to crawl out of the Labyrinth. The fact that he wanted to kill his father more than he wanted to be born again into a new life wasn’t a surprise, but that he chose to bloody his sword rather than his cock is somehow... insulting, almost.

What actually haunts you is how your insides coil and turn when you rush back to your temple. It’s not like you thought the Minotaur would take you with him. Board some trade ship bound for distant shores, and ravage you ever so softly in the belly of the creaking hull. It’s not like you dreamed of petting him to sleep while you two embark on a new life. But the way your heart twists and wails inside your chest makes it clear that losing him is even more painful than losing Theseus and the life he promised you.

You never even wanted Theseus; you only wanted him to take you away from here. His affection would have been the result of ample witchcraft at best.

He’s practically already dead, and your heart turns to stone far more slowly than you would prefer. It’s just your luck to first have the golden hero of Greece look down on you in disdain, and then witness even the Bull Man walk away from you like you never meant anything to him. Men killing each other is the oldest story in the world, and you want no part in it, but something in this beast has stirred you awake from a long, cold slumber. It’s infuriating that you can’t dispel a simple animal from your heart. Oldest story in the book, that one, too…

But oh, how you now yearn after some cruel, lowly, dirty beast… The Minotaur already owns you, and he never even had to plunge his sword inside you to prove that. Besides, you would’ve been perfectly willing had he decided to take you on the green grass, under the vast sky, while some noisy goats graze around you. You realize that that’s what you expected to happen, and when it didn’t, you’re left more than disappointed: you're left completely hollow. You always find out these things a little too late, it seems… The Bull is headed for the palace and will likely get killed after he slaughters his cruel father. There’s at least thirty spears in that building, and more will arrive when called.

You arrive at the temple, panting and with your body flushed and weak. The maidens at the entrance share a quick glance with each other before turning their fearful gazes back to you. They’re the youngest arrivals, not even initiates yet; one of them hardly even bleeds.

“The King is dead,” you announce without bothering to even greet them, and the girls huddle up together like they’re a bunch of slaves about to get slapped.

You realize you must look like an animal with your dirty robes, dishevelled hair and your wild, alive stare. No wonder they look like they’ve seen a ghost... You basically are one, coming back from the dead like this.

“What?”

A priestess arrives at the threshold like an image of Hecate herself, dressed in robes as black as the midnight sky, but you don’t shy away from her like you used to.

“Or he will be. Soon. The Minotaur is here.”

“How did you… How did it...”

You’ve never seen the priestess in disarray. She’s always composed, cold and distant, but seeing you like the wraith that you are, freshly escaped from the Labyrinth, spat back from the bowels of the earth like the dark gods didn’t even want you there, makes even the greatest of Hecate’s servants a little uneasy.

She gathers what’s left of her dignity and finds her most commanding voice. Sadly, it doesn’t have the power to shake the ground anymore.

“Where is Theseus of Athens?”

“Disemboweled… is my best guess,” you say in a listless voice, then turn your head toward the smell of fresh fruit.

Normally, you would walk these halls with dignity, but now, you simply barge in and grab the first piece of food you find. You ought to get whipped for your insolence, but no one dares to raise a hand against you. The maids and priestesses stare in shock as you eat and drink like a starved prisoner. You’re a living Hecate in certain aspects, your arrival the first toll of the bell of doom as the palace guards sound the alarm.

So…

The Minotaur has reached the king.

…

The priestesses deem it only logical that the King finally pays for his sins: the gods have been offended by the number of human sacrifices sent to the Labyrinth, and this is their way of exacting revenge. You were only an instrument of their will.

After a quick wash and some more food, you begin to feel like a human again. The maids bring you a new chiton, flowing and white: your old clothes are burned in a brazier as if that would help you forget.

And this might be the only place you don’t get blamed for unleashing a monster. You were at a crossroads with the Minotaur, and anyone would have done the same: try to talk him out of his killing spree, calm him down, entice him with a gift. No one expected that the beast could even speak, so your approach was unusual, perhaps, but it worked. Hecate guided you through the tunnels, even when the candle went out, she stilled the Bull’s loins until you reached the sunlight where the beast got distracted with other things. You leave out the Minotaur's attraction to birds, bees and butterflies because your story is unbelievable enough as it is.

But the Minotaur will be slain after he has done his deed: Minos is the one who should be punished, not the city of Crete. And it is only just to put down this beast, a mercy.

So when he appears between the pillars of temple, this time wholly covered in blood, people are bound to scream. Even the priestesses who are used to seeing blood, shriek like widows when the Minotaur steps inside the holy shrine of Hecate.

“Where is the maiden of the crossroads?”

He came back for you, after all…

The boom of his voice is familiar, and yet, you cower on the bench when you hear it. The Minotaur sounds like he’s an envoy of Hades himself, and while you’re not among those who scream and yell, it still sends shivers down your spine to hear him speak like that.

Or is it the excitement, a tiny flame of hope that makes you quiver like this?

“We all belong to the goddess,” someone peeps, the Minotaur now descending down the stairs.

The massive head turns, gaze like razor sweeping across the marbled shrine. You’re so far back that he can’t catch you, sitting behind many bodies and faces, and before you can force yourself to rise, the main priestess, the oldest, most crooked of the crones, steps forth to meet this beast.

“This is a House of Hecate,” she speaks. “No man is allowed to enter unless they are Death.”

The black carcass turns, but the priestess doesn’t waver. If anything, her spine turns into unbreakable metal before this man’s gaze.

“I am Death,” he says, far more gently than anyone would expect. Then he walks past the crone like she’s just a harmless elder. No one does a thing, because even the head of your temple is powerless now.

“She had a red string and a candle. Where is she?”

He grabs the first woman he sees, and you rise up before he decides it’s time to thrust his blade into someone to loosen the tongues of these women.

“Please,” you take a hesitant step towards your Bull. “I’m here... I’m the one you’re looking for.”

The Minotaur lets go of the frightened initiate the instant he sees you. She’s shoved aside with little interest, the blue eyes behind the corpse now solely fixed on you. The way they soften into hazy ice makes your knees weak – that’s the stare of someone who recognizes their loved one among a thick, dull crowd…

“Come with me,” he extends a hand when he reaches you, strong legs swallowing tiles like he’s in a hurry to get back to you. You open your mouth, close it, and look at his hand, the rough, enormous palm held out for you to place your own little hand in.

“You belong to me,” he says with great weight when you don’t speak. It should spark the ire of the goddess for him to dare to talk to you like this… But mostly, your body sings. It tells you to take a step and take his hand: to let him have you, once and for all.

“My place is here,” you utter, all power gone from your voice. All your dreams, all your fears are offering their hand to you with his, and the maidens, mothers and crones of this hall look upon your exchange with the Bull Man in stupefied silence.

“You were sent down to me,” he presses on. “You are mine now. You belong to me.”

Your body is singing, singing, singing.

It’s not a request… Or a proposal.

It’s a god, taking what’s his.

…

You swallow with nothing in your throat and look at the head priestess with helpless misery: she looks back with the eyes of a noxious Medusa, wholly dispassionate to the problems you brought upon yourself. And what could she even do? She’s unarmed against the claims of Hades: Death is now in love with you, and there’s nothing you or anyone else can do about it.

He doesn’t want to stay in the city, as enchanting as it is, saying that it stinks and that he’s tired of the screams. No one wants him here; he already knows that, and the task he was meant to do is done. He doesn’t seem to be much moved by it either, only asking you if there is a place where he can wash the blood off himself.

People become more bold when they see you walk out of the city. Not even the sight of a crimson demigod makes them watch their tongues. Insults and slurs follow you through the streets, shouts such as “Kingslayer!” and “Beast!” are accompanied with curses such as “You are an abomination!” and “Go back to your lair!”

No one treats him as their prince and savior, no one sees him as the man he truly is. And because hatred thickens in crowds, you get your share of the insults as well.

What kind of a woman would follow a beast like him? Have you sold your soul to the demons of the desert, or has Hades himself forced you to be with this monster? Are you behind the murder of their king?

“Must I remind you?” You turn on your heels, standing tall and proud with the posture of a queen. “According to the old laws, the one who slays the king is the next to rule.”

“You led him out of the Labyrinth, didn’t you?” the voices ask.

“Gave him your cunt, too,” they sneer.

“You’re worse than the bloody Gorgon,” they mock, but you have a thick skin: if anything, you take it as a compliment to be referred to the mighty slayers of men.

What cuts through your heart is the filth and hate they spit at him, the man who has known nothing but loath since he was born.

“Hecate’s whore… I should kill you first,” one soldier shouts with spit running down his chin.

The citizens of Crete would never hail the Minotaur as their king, but none can say the deed didn’t prove great strength. Some would even call it justice. He is the queen’s son, after all: he’s more royal than any of these dung-stinking peasants will ever be. He should never have been sent down to those tunnels in the first place.

Before you know it, the Minotaur swoops past you in haste, diving towards the screaming crowd with hunched shoulders and a fiery breath.

“Stop,” you say, and he halts immediately, gaze still directed to the one who called you a whore. The soldiers back away along with the peasants and tradesmen, these poor, humble Cretes who act like they never meant to be so mean.

“Let us go in peace,” you command, voice unwavering and stern. “Or I will curse you all. You and your families, down to the seventh son and seventh daughter.”

That manages to shut them up. The threat of a curse frightens these poor beasts even more than the enraged Minotaur breathing fire through his helm. No one wants rot and puke to follow them wherever they go; no one wants to doom their offspring with illness, death and sorrow. They disperse in all directions and only hiss and whisper as they go.

You spit on the ground as your last gift to these people, leaving the city of Crete with the ever-adoring Bull at your heels.

“You’re even prettier when you’re angry,” he says while walking next to you, voice thick with genuine passion and awe.

You roll your eyes: any man would cower before Hecate’s curse, but this one? This one only gets more horny.

“Perhaps you are part bull after all,” you retort dryly.

“It takes more than one spear to kill me,” he boasts, but you don’t need more proof of his prowess. Surely, people have tried to kill him in the Labyrinth, but he’s survived every single attempt on his life – for that alone, he should be a decorated hero.

The only thing that makes you annoyed, however, is this childish need to prove he could’ve taken the whole city by himself just because some man happened to call you a slut.

“Mother said I’m a monster instead of a man,” he says, completely unaware that your snap wasn't meant as a compliment. He says it like he’s partly proud of it, and you finally sigh and turn.

“Your mother was heartless. And wrong.”

The Minotaur only looks at you with a building passion that goes straight to your loins.

“But you’re not.”

“...What?”

“Heartless.”

You feel stripped naked before him, the way his eyes seem to burn away your poor dress. But the fact that he unearths your most guarded secret, just like that, is a catastrophe of a far wider scale.

You’re not sure who’s tied to whom anymore… Or if you’re tied to each other, the gods now laughing in their wine as they look down at you two: a fierce and bloodied giant following the maiden he stole like it’s you who took him and not the other way around.

You reach the roaring waters of a waterfall in silence, the night wrapping the lands inside a dark blue veil. Stars will be visible soon, and with the moon creeping up to the sky, you won’t be needing candles tonight. The silver mistress gives plenty of light for you to admire your beast, and compared to the thick darkness of the tunnels you emerged from this morning, it feels like a generous blessing.

You sit on the banks of the small, clear pond, utterly exquisite at nightfall. The sun’s heat has turned into a warm, caressing breeze, and you submerge your feet into the water, giving out a satisfied sigh as the cool pond embraces your travel worn feet. The Bull sinks to a crouch some distance away from you, curious about your obvious moment of pleasure.

“Did you meet her…? Your mother?” You ask from the cool water lapping at your feet – how can a simple man make you feel so restless and shy?

“Did you… kill her?”

“She cursed me,” he says, sullen and wholly unsurprised. Time and time again, you are shocked by the hatred his own kin shows him. How can a mother be so cruel?

“How could I kill my own maker?”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “For everything.”

You swallow before such unwavering love. The same man who cursed the gods yesterday honours the womb he came from so much that he won’t raise a hand against it, not even when his own mother spits curses at him. You don’t know if it’s his greatest strength or biggest weakness, but sometimes you wonder if he’s more human than humans, this beast.

“I’m not,” he retorts immediately. “The king is dead. Mother is safe. I have you... This is the best day of my life.”

You turn to look at him. Time and again, the lack of lies and deceit in this man catches you off guard. It’s more painful than any wound, to see how the Minotaur has no protective skin against the corrupted human nature, that he is human nature before it was defiled.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” you falter.

The chiton pools around your ankles, and you wonder if the man even breathes anymore. You know your skin is glowing with the last rays of the setting sun, you’re aware that the water and moonlight play upon your skin and make you look like an illusion, powerful in its own way.

When have you ever faltered…? Back when you were a little girl, you reckon, the notion euphoric and eerie in your bones.

You rise up and undress before him nonchalantly, trying to ignore the fervid stare of your admirer. Unclasping the brooches holding up your white linen dress, you let it fall down and set you free, secretly reveling in the downright carnal stare now glued to your skin.

Ripe for plucking, you think while stepping out of the pile of cloth and into the thin evening air. His gaze feasts on you: the plump breasts no one ever loved, the vulnerable navel down below, the dark triangle between your legs, the secret power it holds.

Heat pools into your core as you watch him: everything in your body turns warm and soft when you take in the utter heftiness of him. The mean, swelling phallus between his legs, the near inhuman strength those shoulders and chest possess. Your body is the complete opposite of him, ethereal, almost, compared to the absolute brute strength before you.

His eyes linger there the longest until he rises too, stiff and dreamy, a beast entirely taken by a thrall. The loincloth is practically torn away, as if it’s only a nuisance he must get rid of immediately. His eyes never leave your shape while he bares himself, and the phallus, you notice, belongs to a human. It’s thick and wondrous, fully erect, adorned with dark curls and accompanied by a set of balls you’ve mainly seen on horses. Big, full and round but unlike animals, they’re covered in dark fur, almost black here in the evening light. Thick seed beads through the slit of his cock from simply seeing you, and the way his chest heaves makes it clear that this man is ready to mate as soon as he’s allowed to do so.

“You need to take off your helm,” you lift your chin, thoroughly aware of your power over him, even if it’s laughable, a miracle that he doesn’t fuck you on the spot like the animal he is. “You’re a man, not a bull.”

His eyes don’t betray any kind of hesitation. He doesn’t seem to be interested in whether he wears his mask or not. He just blinks as if he’s indeed under a spell and nods.

“If you say so.”

The broad muscles flex as he takes it off, and what is revealed to you from underneath the head is both a surprise and a disappointment. There’s not a monster under there, only a man, a stoic, boorish, shaggy male who’s in desperate need of a wash and a comb. He’s somewhat handsome under all that facial hair and knots, actually, not bad at all – if you like your men rugged and wild.

He lets the head drop to the ground with a thud as if it was never a part of him at all, and follows you into the pool like you’re his mother and he’s your cub about to get scrubbed clean.

He seems to dwarf you, even when half submerged in the pond, leaning back with a sigh not unlike yours. If you’re afraid, your body has a peculiar way of showing it: even in the clear, glossy water, you can feel yourself get wet. Never have you seen such strength, not in any man: in horror and awe, you realize he could be a descendant of Zeus himself. As if providing proof to these claims, he looks up to the sky, mesmerized by the myriad stars dotting the vast, unattainable blue.

Using this momentary distraction to your advantage, you reach to pluck a handful of moss from the bank. With this soft little sponge in your hand, you hope to make it clear that this is indeed a bath, not foreplay.

“They’re stars,” you say softly while slinking closer to him. “Have you ever seen them...?”

“Yes,” he rasps with his head lolled back, throat completely exposed. It always hurts your heart to see that he trusts you so fully. You are no threat to him – even if the gods changed the moss in your hand into a weapon of some sort, you wouldn’t pose any kind of challenge. And still, the way he allows you to creep towards him and wipe his rough hide with the makeshift sponge without so much as flinching is heartbreaking.

“I have forgotten…” his voice drifts off as he examines the night sky, eyes filled with distant, glass-like delight.

“Beautiful, aren’t they...?”

“Your world is pretty,” he brings his gaze back to earth and to you. “But you’re the loveliest thing I’ve seen so far.”

You almost freeze upon hearing that. His compliments always catch you off guard, but this time, something forbidden and long forgotten comes undone: a lost want, no, a need to hear such simple words of shallow praise.

“You do not scream... You do not run. Why?”

Your eyes are liquid, glass about to break as you set yourself on the task of scrubbing him clean. You refuse to get emotional in front of him: an initiate of the dark goddess, shedding tears when a horny man calls her pretty? What utter nonsense.

But then he grabs your wrist: not to seize back power, but to prevent you from escaping this fragile moment.

“You are different,” he agrees calmly, then releases you, but you reckon it’s mostly because he misses the soft rubs you were giving him.

“Perhaps I’m crazy,” you breathe while looking at the damp curls on his chest.

Yes… That’s the only explanation for this madness. It has to be.

“Is that why you took me?”

“I took you because you’re mine. I want you.”

“You can’t just take what you want,” you warn softly.

“Why not?” His head tilts a little to the side as he’s trying to make sense of you and the manners of your world. “Don’t you want to be mine?”

You lift your gaze and risk a look into his eyes, stripped from all facades as always. You even catch a passing wave of worry there: he had counted on you being as fascinated with him as he is with you. The hunger behind that want, the need to be something special to you, is a whole another issue that must wait until your head is more clear. Way more clear…

“Perhaps,” you confess.

“I have nothing to give you,” he shrugs, eyes looking slightly past you this time, out of shame or anxiety. It takes a while for you to understand he’s liking you to the goods at the market and thinks he’s expected to have money to be able to keep you.

“You don’t need to pay for me,” you smile, trying your best to disguise the soft amusement in your voice. His brows only furrow as he tries to calculate and think.

“I don’t understand the rules of this world,” he finally shakes his head.

“I’ll teach you.”

For a while, he only looks on with fascination how you rub his arms and belly, basically massaging him with the wet moss. His eyes drift closed when you scrub the back of his neck, the stout erection only getting thicker under the cool water. You’re careful with his legs, not because you’re afraid he’s ticklish but because you try to avoid touching the huge cock already jutting up from happiness. It gives a few excited bounces when you wash his inner thighs, hopeful to get its needs satiated soon.

“I can hunt for you,” he suggests. “Bring you food… Protect you.”

He’s visibly excited when figuring out a way to give you something in return. He wants to provide offerings for your company, your lore, and eventually, your cunt, too. You might be a virgin, but you’re not stupid: of course he wants the soft, wet prize between your legs. A pair of lovely tits to squeeze at night... Ears to groan hushed confessions into, thighs to nibble, bite and suck until you cry...

“What do you think?” He asks, breath heavy from the bliss you’re already granting him by simply giving him a bath. “I could give you my heat. Please you...”

“You know how to please women?”

“No. But you could teach me.”

The way he says it is not shy. Only tentative. A bear, walking on ice and hoping it would carry his weight. One wrong step and the ice will swallow him, spitting out his bones only in spring.

And then…

“Do you know how to fuck?”

The ice holds, mainly because you’re too shocked to even slap or ridicule this man. His eyes bore into you with such unbridled greed that you have trouble keeping your precious pride intact.

“Of course,” you hear yourself whisper like it would be an insult to your intellect if you didn’t.

“Teach me,” he says, ever more greedily.

“I…”

Your jaw is left open, but not a word comes out. A strong palm closes around your wrist again, this time to bring you flush against him. The water laps at your skin, a distant crow cackles somewhere. Your hand is brought to his phallus, but he doesn’t have to wrap your fingers around it: you do it all by yourself, breath locked in your throat as you feel how hard and blazing he is.

“You want my cock,” he says, mouth only an inch from yours. “Don’t you...?”

You wet your lips – a mistake, because his half-lidded gaze darts to your mouth the instant your pink tongue lashes out. You’re in a predicament, but on the other hand, what else did you expect, taking your clothes off in front of a touch-starved bull?

“I’d give it to you happily,” he insists. “No female ever wanted to spread her legs for me.”

Or a leash.

Your fingers tighten on their own, they mould around him. Like a bond…

“Really?” You breathe. “What fools they were...”

The cock gives a full throb inside your palm, exalted to be yours. But only a moment later, the dreaded Minotaur moves.

You find yourself under him before you can even gasp for air: the soaked, hot body of a giant now pinning you on the grass and crushing you under it with ease. The weight of your error is fully pressed against you: he was never tamed, and you were a fool to think you could put him in chains.

The raw scent of earth and musk fills your nostrils, making the stars above you spin. His cock is trapped between your bodies, giving another rich pulse against your thigh. Gods, if he were throbbing like that inside you…

“You make my skin burn,” he growls into your ear, the heat of his skin now unbearable, the coarse hair prickling your skin from neck to thigh. “My loins, ache…”

“Are you a witch?” He asks, and you finally allow yourself to breathe.

If he only knew… But hexes and charms are of no use for you now: the only thing you can do is moan, apparently, as he dives for your neck, planting barbarous kisses on your skin.

Down, down, down he goes, pure avarice driving him to feast on every part of you. You’re too weak to stop him when he searches for the source of your intoxicating scent. Discovering it between your thighs, he dives nose-first into your sex, meeting your core with a hungry grunt.

Your back arcs with pleasure, your nails sink into his back: a funny thing to do when he’s already as close as can be. The trail of crude kisses leads him to your breasts, and you try to keep your whimpers in control, but a gasp erupts when he drags a hot tongue across your nipple. Massive palms close around your tits while you squirm in his hold: he doesn’t seem to be driven by the need to please you; rather, he wishes to study you first, examine how your body reacts to his groping. He leaves your breasts aching and sore, every bite and suck managing to make you wetter and wetter, your cunt screaming for attention by now.

“Gods...” you wriggle on the soft earthen bed, not expecting him to take you with his mouth first.

He withdraws, only a little, but his voice is surprisingly soft.

“Do I hurt you...?”

“No… But this is not mating…”

“Even I know that much,” he says darkly, and grabs you by the waist, moves you around like a doll until you find yourself on your belly.

He looks at you from between your thighs, demonic and keen. The broad shoulders force your legs wide apart when he’s seated there, waist-deep in the water, with you hauled to the shore like a siren.

Not a moment is wasted as he pulls you back to him by the hips: you’re drawn to all fours, a hot streak of cum dragging on the inside of your thigh from the cock that meets your skin. He grabs and steadies it with an annoyed grunt, and the fat tip is shoved straight into your folds, your nether lips parted with brute force almost.

“Guide me.”

His voice is demanding, impatient as he drags the fat head up and down the entrance of your hole, coating his cock with your slick in the process. You wonder if it’s instinctual, if he knows that this is where he should poke and that it will hurt you less if he’s well-oiled. He’s about to rut you into oblivion the instant you tell him where to shove his cock, and the prospect only sends more sap flowing down your thigh.

“There…” you stutter when he finds it, the aching spot that’s leaking profusely. He pushes the head in, not by teasing but by bullying, almost forcing it inside from how tight and unreceptive you are.

“Tighter than my fist,” is his only comment, and it makes you shudder. “I will not last long…”

You wince from the burn, but the rest of it glides in like a dream, and suddenly you’re filled, to the capacity, one could say. He grunts just from the way your womanhood is hugging him, not sure what this foreign object inside you is – is it a good thing or a threat?

“Easy then,” you breathe a huff into the sweet night air, filled with fireflies and night birds who know nothing about the fucking you’re about to go through.

He doesn’t move – inside you, that is. Outside, he crawls forward until he moulds around you, heavy body enveloping you completely. The hairs on his thighs tickle the back of your legs, his chest scrapes your back just so as he demonstrates how you belong to him in every way. But when your cunt starts to squeeze him again, he swallows thickly.

“Does this feel good to you too…?”

You catch faint confusion and concern in his voice, astonished that such a soft, frail body like yours can take his cock just like that. Little does he know you’re still adjusting to his size, thanking all the gods that he doesn’t move yet.

“Yes,” you confess because it does feel good: his thickness inside you, stretching you both gently and violently, studying how it feels to be inside a loving, wet heat.

“Then I will fuck you every day,” his lips come to brush your ear. “Many times...”

You hear yourself whimper, more humble now than ever. No man would dare to take you on all fours, but here you are, like a bought bride about to get stuffed…

He withdraws a little, asks, “Like this?” when he returns with a rough, nasty thrust. The balls meet your mound, heavy on the tender nub you’ve flicked when you’re lonely, covering your mouth while you do it. Both your hands are planted on the ground now, your legs spread before this beast, cunt filled to the brim with his cock.

“Not so rough,” you warn, and he heeds your instructions to the letter until he’s moving in and out with a slow, delicious pace that allows you to feel every thick bump of him. Soaked now down to your thighs, the sounds of your mating is utterly sloppy and slick, and of course he’s curious.

“Are you always like this…?”

“Like… what,” you huff in between the slow, torturous thrusts.

“Soft,” he rasps. “Tight… Wet like rain.”

“No. It’s just when…”

“When you want to fuck?”

You whimper for an answer, mostly because he starts to slip from the agreed sluggish pace. His cock invades you with more urgency, chasing the eruption that must be generous from those thick balls that should belong to a horse.

“I knew it…” he says dreamily behind you. “Some women want to mate with bulls...”

He punctuates his newfound pride with a full, deep thrust, and you wince.

“You’re not a–”

“Keep telling yourself that, little maiden.”

He exhales a hot smile next to your ear, and you’re neck deep in love. Your mouth hangs open, your lids half closed and fluttering from the way he pounds into your poor, abused cunt. Heavy balls slap your swollen nub with careless abandon, making you squeeze his thickness every time he hits the end of you. His grunts become more animalistic with every thrust, and your cunt is a wild thing, leaking and weeping and throbbing until you fear there’s something wrong with you – no woman is supposed to be this needy for a beast…

I’m going to come… You realize in horror as the slick sounds of fucking overthrow even the coursing roar of the waterfall. The knowledge shoots your body full of dark, hot ink; it explodes inside your core like a liquid star, throbbing through your cunt currently being ploughed like you’re nothing but a needy, sloppy hole for him. You’re swimming in so much pleasure that it’s almost painful, the revelation some secret of the gods, no doubt.

He growls when you moan, heavy arm snaking its way around your middle to keep you in place for him. The purr is eager and low, the rumble erupts from his chest like a thick, loving volcano, a statement of how perfect you are. He nuzzles his nose into your neck and rubs his scent all over you while fucking you through it, the divine rapture that leaves your throat dry from moans.

He doesn’t need to be told what it means when you’re crying like that: he doesn’t need to be explained that his cock is giving you ample pleasure. It’s so desperate, how much he wants to both fuck and please you, just own you and fulfill you, that you start to shake, your frail body not capable of handling the orgasm he just gave you.

Your strength fails, and you find yourself on your elbows, cunt even more exposed to him now, the cock pistoning into you with a relentless pace. He’s like a titan upon you, taking pleasure from your quivering, weak frame and the tight wet hole that belongs to it. You’re still in rapture when he starts to sound like broken, wounded man.

“You were made for me,” he huffs. “You were made...for me…”

His voice evaporates along with your thin, adoring mewls, just before he fucks himself over the edge. You can feel the hot, thick spurts, filling you as he roars into your hair, balls pressed flush against your sex, thighs meeting yours in a moment frozen in time.

They can probably hear him all the way to the city, hear what a cunt like yours does to an invincible beast like him… But his cries are only met with silence; the night sky looks back with disinterest, the birds continue their songs when they notice it was only the roar of a mighty beast that filled the land. Before long, he’s groaning above you, using your hole more softly; loving it until the last drop is milked.

When he stops, his whole body is trembling from release, but you’re not given a moment of reprieve. He forces you to the ground with him on your back, the rough, thick body never leaving yours. Coarse beard chafes your neck, his body trapping you completely under him, he even opens his jaw to take your shoulder between his teeth and bites you while his cock is still pulsing fat inside you.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he pants into your ear, angry, almost.

“Good,” you breathe a smile, but he’s not satisfied.

“You couldn’t get enough of me too… I noticed.”

“You gave me pleasure,” you agree. “Lots of it.”

“That was a lot of seed… I haven’t spilled in days.”

He huffs into your ear, astonished and proud that he could do such a thing. You feel him shift to take a better look at you, fingers arrive to graze your temple as if to make sure you’re real, as if having his cock inside you wasn’t enough proof of that. They’re a little shaky, a little uncouth, but the touch is gentle enough, and sweet.

He's boasting again perhaps, you don’t know, but you give him a soft laugh, notice how he stops breathing momentarily when hearing the bright sound.

“I am filled to the brim with you, yes… It will take a while before I can take more.”

“...You have other holes in you,” he offers after a while, quite seriously, in fact.

“Get off me, you beast,” you huff and squirm to get out from under him, but there’s a luscious grin on your face, a smile that tells him you would more than approve of his obscene ideas later.

“This feels good,” he murmurs into your hair. “This feels right...”

He allows you to leave from under him, only whines when his cock gets exiled from your cunt. He misses the wet heat like a newborn child misses the womb, but you need to recover from the recent invasion. Seed gushes out from your hole, making a mess on the ground as he pulls you against him, wanting to cuddle you next.

You wonder if he even knows what cuddling means as you lie there with a sticky mess between your legs and the heat of an entire sun on your cheeks. You smile into the coarse, sweaty body hair tickling your nose, deciding it doesn’t matter whether he knows or not: the most important thing is that he wants to hold you like this.

“Yes,” you smile. “This feels right…”

Something blooms in your chest. An odd flower, persistent and sweet.

The stars above are cold but motherly as they look down on you two: born again into a world that doesn’t want either of you. The only things that accept you now are flowers, birds, the wind and the rain, bees and salty sea, but that’s aplenty. That’s more than the whole of Crete could ever give you.

“Are you thinking about your hero,” he asks above you.

“What? No…”

“Good,” he rasps, so softly now that you start to fear he’s about to cry.

You are more than capable of lying, but Theseus hasn’t crossed your mind in hours: the last time it did, the memory was received with loath and disdain. Thinking about Theseus while you’re draped all over your Bull, his seed flowing out of your womb... What a ridiculous idea.

The reason for his hardly disguised anger is laid out plain before you: he's just jealous like any other man. Somehow, it makes you feel even more glowy inside.You’re my hero, you want to say, but have no courage to spill out the words. He was balls deep inside you mere moments ago, but telling him this intimate truth seems to be too much.

It never occurred to him, then, that you would enjoy copulating with him. He fucked you with the impression that you needed thoughts of another man to make you wet… That perhaps with the help of the image of Theseus in your mind, you were able to come with his cock inside you.

“My Bull,” you whisper. “Tell me your name. You must have a name…?”

His breath stops only for a moment, the heart in his chest gives an arduous beat before he answers.

“Asterion.”

Starry one…

Of course.

All monsters have names, usually the opposite of what they’re claimed to be. His birth is in heaven, in the stars; he belongs to the company of heroes and gods.

“Asterion,” you whisper it out into the night air while the animal an man both find their new home in your arms. “Your birth is written in the stars. Did you even know…?”

“Does that make me a hero?” He snorts, more old wounds torn open right before your eyes.

You wriggle yourself out of his hold, but he avoids your stare. You lift a hand to bring those beautiful Olympian eyes back to you.

“It makes you immortal.”

Perhaps you should’ve known he would be enticed with an apple instead of tethers and deals. Or with a palm, held out with no intent to strike…

It’s lovely, how he blinks every time he’s confused. You’ve yet to see him shy, but if he ever is, this might be the moment… You even catch him swallowing under that wild facial hair, an awkward blob right after that blink when his birthright is acknowledged.

But even more dumbfounded he becomes when he realizes you’re truly and veritably admiring him. When you whisper it to him – you’re my hero – and watch something shatter in him that was supposed to wrench itself free, that’s when he’s truly granted divinity.

Perhaps it was all about becoming animal again, allowing the other to have a sniff. Baring your throat and embracing the instinct to trust. Marrying your wild soul… The deepest magic of all.

#könig x reader #könig cod #könig x you #konig x reader #könig mw2 #konig x you #könig smut #könig fanfiction #konig smut #cod könig

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whimsiwitchy · 1 month

Text

Controversially Young Girlfriend

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men.

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns.

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. i do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything! <33

authors note: this is an idea I had that I really needed to write. I’d love to make this a series if you guys want more, just let me know! This is only my second time writing fanfiction and my first time writing for Hugh, please be nice lol. Thank you for reading! <3

Part one: breakup and new beginnings

Being a young girl living in the middle of bumfuck nowhere made it seem impossible to live your dreams of becoming a singer. You grew up in a tiny little town in Louisiana called Minden. With a population of less than 15,000 people, the closest ‘big’ city being Shreveport, growing up was pretty boring. You had big dreams of making it big and making it the fuck out of the country. Minden wasn’t always so bad. It was a nice community that had fun things here and there, but you craved more.

Once you graduated highschool back in 2020, you focused on working and saving as much money as you could, only buying essentials and equipment to help make music. You took a few online classes on producing and tried your best to make whatever song was bouncing around in your head come to life. It took a year for you to feel confident enough to release your first few songs out into the world. So in July of 2021, you teased a song on TikTok to your small following. You started to gain a few more followers here and there, it was exciting. At the end of August, you released your first song titled ‘to the point’ and it blew up on the clock app. You gained a hefty following after that, on the brink of hitting one million.

By the end of 2022, deciding on Los Angeles, you had finally saved enough money to move, so you were packing your bags and heading out. Your agent was ecstatic about the move because it meant more opportunities for your career. After releasing a few more songs over the past year, you hired Stacy to help you manage everything.

Fastwording to 2024, your dreams have come true and you have been an established and respected artist for almost two years. You started to build a reputation as someone who was dedicated and passionate about their craft- always being involved in any creative process. It was bliss. Lately though, you’ve gained another reputation, the controversial young girlfriend, a whore, a gold digger. Since you’ve been in the spotlight, you’ve had your fair share of dating history and if they all happened to be older men, so what? It wasn’t something you had planned on but older men were just built differently. They were so much sexier and put together than the guys your age. They knew what they were doing and how to treat a woman right. You were so tired of being asked out through instagram direct messages, you wanted someone who wasn’t afraid to talk to you in person, and that seemed to only come from men twice your age. You weren’t complaining though, you enjoyed it.

Your last ‘scandalous’ relationship ended up being far more public than you intended it to be. In the beginning, the men you were seen with were never anything serious, just dates or one night stands. Though with Pedro it was different. You dated him for six months before it all came crashing down and you felt heartbroken. He was the sweetest man you’d ever been with and it all ended because the hate from fans on our age gap was too much for him. It was an ugly breakup and you were positive that he wouldn’t want to be associated with you anymore, even as friends.

“I should have picked a different song.” You huff in frustration. Today you were going to be performing on BBC’s Radio 1 Live Lounge and as requested, you'd be performing your own song and a cover of your choosing. When Stacy first presented this opportunity to you, it had only been a month after your recent breakup and naturally you chose to cover ‘THE GREATEST’ by Billie Eilish. Now that you were mostly over Pedro, the song seemed silly to sing and you weren’t feeling as vocally confident now that you were here.

“Babe, you’re gonna kill it! Just let your emotions flow, give the fans what they want.” Stacy is sitting across the room as she comforts you. She’s fidgeting with your vocal humidifier, attempting to put it together before you start warming up. Her advice isn’t terrible, she’s right. You’d been pretty silent on the subject matter, steering clear of social media so you wouldn’t say anything stupid. Rumors of your breakup had been all over the headlines but there hasn’t been confirmation from either of you. Singing this song today would definitely stir the pot again and make everyone realize that it is done between you two.

“You’re right.”

“As always. Here, start warming up the money maker.” She laughs while handing you the humidifier.

“I really hope he doesn’t watch it. I’d literally smash my head into a brick wall out of embarrassment…”

Placing the humidifier over your mouth and nose, you sit there letting your mind wander. Having your personal life exposed to everyone really sucked and hiding your boyfriends wasn’t something you wanted to do, but you knew that in the future it was something that would have to happen.

“I think I’m taking a break from men.” You let out proudly, glancing over at Stacy.

“Whatever you say girl.” You could hear the doubt lingering in her tone and the roll of her eyes.

“Ugh… You don’t believe me do you? I can totally break off from men and be my own person for once.”

“I’m not trying to doubt you babe. It’s just…You tend to attract men like a magnet and you have some severe daddy issues.” She's typing away on her laptop as if she didn’t just completely disrespect you.

“I don’t have daddy issues.” You say flatly. “I happen to have a very loving father who was always present in my life, so the whole dating older men thing does NOT stem from daddy issues. Thank you very much.” You say matter of factly.

“Hm..Well I give it a week.”

After a few sound checks for your mic and band, you perform your first song. You chose a more upbeat song off your debut album to start, given that you were about to lay your heart out of the line. It was honestly kind of awkward performing in this setting. There was a booth in front of you that had the sound board and all of the other electronic stuff that you didn’t understand. Then right to the left of that, the cameras were positioned with a group of crew members sitting behind them. It always felt awkward performing to smaller audiences.

The first song went by smoothly, earning a few cheers from the people in the room. As the band prepared for the next song, you could see the door in the booth open and two figures walk in. You weren’t wearing your glasses or contacts since it was supposed to be a short day, so you really couldn’t make out who had just walked in. You assumed more workers came in and brushed it off.

“All ready?” A man behind the camera asks and you give a thumbs up.

You somehow managed to get through the song without having any vocal mess ups. It was a challenging song and you'd definitely have to text Billie later to give her some credit. A few tears slipped here and there, feeling the emotions that you thought were gone slowly be released. You pulled yourself together and you felt really proud of the performance as a whole, showing the world the potential your voice had.

A few soft claps are dying out as everyone starts cleaning up the room. You’re reaching down to grab your water bottle when you feel someone rushing up towards you.

“Ahhh you did great babe but um two hot dudes will be walking through that door any second!” Stacy is whispering and all you could do was give her a confused look before the door opens. You squint trying to make out the two figures.

“God you’re talented!” You hear the voice before you see the face.

“Oh um, thank you so much.” You let out not really sure who you were speaking to. Once the two men get into view, your jaw drops slightly.

“HOLY SHIT!” You yell a little too loudly. Slapping your hand over your mouth, you hear a very rich man laugh coming from a very good looking man. For some reason, whoever is in charge of the fate of the universe has blessed you with the presence of Ryan Reynalds and Hugh Jackaman.

“Oh my god i’m so sorry, that’s literally so embarrassing. I just couldn’t see who you were at first.”

“It’s okay sweetheart.” They both wear big smiles on their faces.

“I’m y/n, it’s so nice to meet y’all, i’m a big fan!” You gush out, trying your best to refrain from fangirling.

“We’re big fans as well. We were next door interviewing for the radio show, when we heard you were recording over here. We ran over here to try to catch you.” Ryan lets out.

“No shit! That’s so cool. I really appreciate it.” Before the conversation could continue, Ryan is being called over by someone, leaving Hugh and yourself alone.

“Hows Pedro, haven't seen him in awhile.” Hugh asks genuinely, giving you a small smile. It caught you off guard completely. You racked your brain trying to think of a time in your six month relationship that Pedro mentioned Hugh at all but nothing came up.

“Oh I uh- I wouldn’t know. We aren’t together anymore.” Your voice is soft, trying not to make this any more awkward.

“Shit. I’m so sorry, with the way he spoke about you, I thought you’d be together longer…” He trails off.

“Yea me too.. he couldn’t handle the heat I guess.” You shrug.

“Well, his loss yea?” He smiles trying to cheer you up.

“Yea..” You say softly, your voice matching your smile. You take a moment to really look at him and he’s beyond handsome. He’s aged but in a way that makes you wish you were able to see the years go by with him. He was tall, almost towering over you, and his muscles were practically popping out of his shirt.

The same guy that was walking to Ryan, gathers the three of you for a picture for the BBC socials. You stand in the middle, both men placing their arms behind either side of you. Hugh’s hand was placed on the small of your back. You looked up at him quickly, his face already smiling at the camera. You hear the camera go off a few times, causing you to look that way as well. Once the cameraman was satisfied, everyone gave their goodbyes and the room cleared out.

Later that night you were scrolling through your phone when a text popped up from Stacy.

Stacypoo <33: I told you. You couldn’t even go a week. ;)

The text is accompanied by a screenshot of a notification stating that “‘thehughjackman’ started following you!”. You rushed to open instagram and went to your followers to search from his name. You stared at his page for a few minutes before following him back.

While you had control over your own social media, someone handled all of your business related content. You went on your page to see that the picture that was taken at BBC earlier today was already posted with one comment standing out beyond the rest.

Thehughjackman: Great meeting you sweetheart! :)

Thank you for reading <3

part two

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman x y/n #hugh jackman smut #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman fluff #hugh jackman fic #hugh jackman x female reader #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman oneshot #hugh jackman x popstar!reader #popstar!reader #f!reader #afab reader

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yanderenightmare · 11 months

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JJK x curse ! darling

TW: NSFW, yandere, kidnapping, captive darling, degredation

fem reader

Can’t stop thinking about all the little vulnerable curse ! darlings that exist and how easily they fall prey to the merciless Jujutsu Sorcerers that go hunting them down for pleasure.

Geto Suguru x The Curse of Virginity

Doe-eyed, chubby-cheeked and makeup-free. She's always chewing her lip nervously. Spawned from all the sweet, silly virgins out there who're afraid of having their virginity robbed.

Though always so fucking wet for it at the same time that it’s embarrassing.

Geto got lucky and swallowed her up before anyone else could get a taste. Keeping her in his bedroom. He kisses her cheeks while fucking her into a moaning, squealing little mess every night. Making sure all her sweet little virgin fantasies are met and satisfied.

Gojo Satoru x The Curse of Beauty

A defiant little brat who thinks her beauty will enslave any and all men who dare look at her. Cold and dismissive, she never lets anyone touch her – because, in her mind, she’s a goddess no one’s worthy of having or holding.

But Gojo scoops her up and keeps her locked up in his place like a pet cat. Smiling at her awfully condescendingly when she warns him not to lay his filthy hands on her.

She'll hiss at him, backing up with eyes going wide under the crushing realization that a pretty face stands little chance paralleled with a real force of strength. Understanding with a hitch in her throat how she better start using her looks to please rather than upset him.

Fushiguro Toji x The curse of Insecurity

The cutest little crybaby who thinks every aspect of her is unappealing and gross. She’s always trying to hide her tear-streaked face, making herself as small as she can by curling herself into a ball, hoping no one’s able to notice her.

Toji just grins his devil-grin with her doughy thighs spread around his hips – keeping her wrists pinned above her head so she can’t do anything but whimper out small denials when he gruffs out how fucking adorable she is, thinking she can keep herself away from him.

Nanami Kento x The curse of Shame

Born from the guilt of every shameful nympho who can’t help but feel so awfully filthy after indulging in their dark desires.

She's always naked and needy – quaking with heat and dewy from the fever of it – rubbing her thighs closed with such a sorry expression it would make any man rush to comfort her.

Nanami takes good care of her, though. The poor thing. She can’t go a single day without getting her wet little pussy pounded – always coming to him with her coy eyes and sultry whines, riding the thick muscles on his thigh with such a terribly needy pout on her lips. Begging him to make it okay, to sanction her so she needn’t feel so awfully sinful as she cums while still whimpering for his cock like a needy wonton little slut.

Zenin Naoya x The curse of misogyny

Born from all the chauvinistic self-indulgent thoughts men have of what a perfect woman should be – having resulted in the most plaint sweetest little thing – one who only feels comfortable when she's either welcoming her man home, cock-warming him during dinner or when he's rearranging her guts into the late night.

She's the happiest little bride with Naoya. Smiling nicely and humming while he lists all his troubles after coming home in a foul mood like always – she'll play with his hair until he leans into the touch with a moan, possessively tugging her closer – palming her soft skin with a pouty scowl on his face. She'll kiss his chin and tell him how grateful she is for everything he goes through, and it's exactly what he needs to hear – beginning to brush his lips over her skin, undressing her while she continues soothing him with her devotion – telling him she'd be lost without him, that he should take whatever he wants from her as a reward for working so hard, that he deserves it for being so good to her, that he's the strongest and smartest and greatest man in the whole world, and that she'll never ever want to be or do anything but serve him until the day she dies.

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dearobinchwan · 5 months

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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 ?

featuring : gn!reader + Zoro, Mihawk and Ace

warning : none

masterlist

Roronoa Zoro

His heart suddenly beats more rapidly whenever he sees you smiling, laughing, or even doing the most random thing. On top of that, Sanji's overly complimentary remarks towards you make him want to reach for his swords. No, this can't be. He's stared death down a thousand times, cut through countless enemies. Yet, this new feeling blooming for you – it's terrifying.

Zoro coming to terms with his feelings for you? Buckle up, because it's going to be a hilarious journey. Denial will be his middle name for a while, trust me. This dense swordsman will be in for a wild ride before he finally connects the dots.

Thanks to Nami's interrogation skills (and a little sake), the whole crew knows Zoro has a thing for you. Now, expect endless teasing from Luffy and Usopp, who'll probably try to spill the beans before a certain mosshead gives them his best glare.

Zoro finally figuring out his feelings for you? Great! Now comes the real test: talking to you about them. Because let's be honest, under that tough-guy act, he is probably a nervous wreck, sweating bullets at the thought of rejection.

Zoro's not exactly the Romeo type. So expect a confession that's straightforward, maybe a bit awkward – but heartfelt nonetheless. If you feel the same, a weight will lift from his shoulders. But if not, he'll respect your decision and try to keep things smooth between you.

Dracule Mihawk

Don't be fooled by Mihawk's stoic facade – because he is quite aware of his feelings for you. Years have honed his instincts, and unlike his pupil, he has no time (and he is too old) for childish denial. His emotions are clear, even if unspoken.

That man has a very calculating mind. He'll dissect every interaction, every glance, searching for a sign that you love him as mush as he loves you. Despite his solitary nature, his mind might already be constructing a future by your side – a future dependent on your response.

Mihawk is probably one of the few men in One Piece who are very romantic (Oda told me so). His brand of romance is subtle yet charming. Imagine leisurely strolls through his gardens or watching the sunset with a glass of wine by his side. A subtle offer of his arm, a hint of a blush from you – that might be all the encouragement he needs to take things a step further.

Once confident your feelings mirror his own, Mihawk will approach things in an (VERY) old-fashioned way. Be prepared for a carefully crafted dinner invitation, where he can formally request the honor of courting you. His pride lies in being a gentleman, and rushing into things is simply not his style. He prefers to court you slowly and respectfully, allowing your relationship to develop naturally.

After a series of thoughtful dates, Mihawk will finally take the next step and ask you to be his partner (Perona and Zoro might have placed a bet on the timeline, of course). Like everything he does, Mihawk will approach this new chapter with utmost seriousness. Your well-being will always be his top priority.

Portgas D. Ace

Ace isn't the denial type. The ache when you're gone, the quiet competition with Marco and Izo for your laughter – these are the clues that tip him off. Ace falling for you? It's written all over his flustered face. He stutters and turns red like a tomato when speaking to you unexpectedly.

The entire crew is a nuisance and teases him constantly about his love for you. They have grilled him mercilessly – “When will you confess?” they ask, convinced you feel the same.

Denial ? Once again, not Ace's style. But baring his heart, admitting his love for you ? That's a terrifying vulnerability he fears more than anything. On top of that, I believe he is also afraid of losing your friendship by making things awkward if you don't feel the same about him.

Thankfully, Marco, ever the voice of reason, is there to guide this lovestruck dummy. And honestly, this old man is tired of watching you two pining from afar. A stern talk from Marco might be just what Ace needs to understand that silence could lead to a missed opportunity for a great relationship.

Ace's confession? A masterpiece in the making, at least in his head. Daily mirror pep talks and a meticulously planned romantic gesture – that's how he plans to declare his love. Just imagine the blushing, the stammering, the potential for minor explosions (caused by Ace's nervousness, of course).

Dinner over, Ace reaches for something hidden in his pocket. His nervousness is palpable, a sheen of sweat forming on his brow. But then, with a determined glint in his eye, he throws caution (and the letter) to the wind, ready to confess his true feelings directly from the heart.

#divider by cafekitsune #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #zoro roronoa x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #portgas d ace x reader #zoro x reader #mihawk x reader #ace x reader #zoro roronoa x you #portgas d ace x you #dracule mihawk x you #zoro x y/n #mihawk x y/n #ace x y/n

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ash-says · 7 months

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Survival 101 :

Buckle up your seatbelt darling because this is going to be triggering and one hell of a ride. Don't expect mushy from me. Might do it when tapped in my soft girl era but today I feel like a Villain.

1) Keep your mouth shut where you don't hold the power. No power no expressed opinions that can put you in trouble.

2) Learn manipulation and seduction skills. This will help you to detect when someone is trying to manipulate and seduce you. Saves a lot of drama and heartache.

3) Fight back strategically. We don't want to lose a job, a degree certificate, a bruise on your body,etc depending on your situation.

4) Facts over emotions. Always.

5) 90% of older men are creepy. Speaking from experience here. Play with them by ear. Get what you want by being polite and respectful but if they try to harass you or take advantage we turn Medusa on them or if you are not in a position to fight and walk out safe just play cutesy and shy and dumb. Ask him what he means and do not take a word said by him seriously. Dodge his advances like your life depends on it until you get an opening to run for the hills.

6) Snap out of delusions and pay attention to reality. People are not what you make them out to be they are what they show you. Stop making excuses for them.

7) Anxiety can be crippling. Panic attacks are the worst but no matter what happens try your level best to never show them publicly. Men are vultures and vulnerable women are easy prey for men.

8) That one friend who is all sweet to you and is your bff but anything positive happens in your life and suddenly starts becoming passive aggressive. Not your friend. Don't share any secrets. Best to be kept as an acquaintance.

9) Develop sarcasm and don't be afraid to put self entitled bitches and bastards in their place. Better being called a 'Mean Girl' over a 'Doormat'.

10) Bully back the bullies. It's 2024 sweetie we don't wait for an opportunity for revenge we fucking create it.

11) No matter how tough your life is going everyone shouldn't be getting a broadcast about it. At least not by your own mouth. Try to act as put together as you can.

12) Kindness is virtue but being apathetic saves you. Don't be the fool who bleeds through the stabs of the same knives again and again. "Because I can't see them in pain. I have a heart." Babygirl you have a life too. All that emotional stress is going to result in some serious problems in the upcoming years.

13) Learn when to quit. The most emotionally intelligent people I know are great quitters. They know when it's the end of an era.

14) Never disclose your family issues to outsiders. Until and unless a person has proved their loyalty to you year after year only those selected one or two people should know your domestic issues. Anyone else knowing it is like having a good gossip for tea time.

15) Lastly, there are no fucking saviours in real life. You are your own saviour.

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hllywdwhre · 6 months

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Revenge - Tommy Shelby

Summary: Reader takes personal offense over Sabini’s attack on Tommy

Warnings: arranged marriage, graphic depictions of violence, reader leaves a message written in blood, smut, creampie, light degrading, oral smut (f receiving), overstim, p in v, let me know if I missed any

Notes: I made this text post about protective reader and decided to write it lmfao. I want Tommy with a feral woman. Thank you to @slut4thebroken for proof reading, encouragement, and suggestions💖

MDNI, 18+ only

You weren’t quite sure how it had happened.

Scratch that.

You knew exactly how it had happened.

Your father and Tommy had worked out a deal when Sabini had first started trying to intimidate your father. A bride in exchange for protection and both of them walked away with extra allies when the inevitable war against Sabini broke out. You’d protested the marriage at first, screaming that you were more than just a political pawn for your father to sell when he needed help, but it went through anyway.

You had to admit, it wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened. Sure, Tommy was distant and seemed obsessed with work, but you knew you could’ve ended up in a much worse situation. He treated you with respect, never let you open a door on your own if he was around, always had a protective hand rested in the small of your back, and… the sex was great.

Perhaps the thing you appreciated the most, was that he didn’t expect you to become the housewife you had feared you would be reduced to. You were your father’s only child, meaning when he died, you would become leader of his gang. You were a gangster the same way Tommy was and he seemed to realize that and respect it. You helped out with the daily runnings of the Peaky Blinders and helped with the daily runnings of your father’s gang at the same time. They both recognized your potential and weren’t afraid to use it.

It wasn’t until you were sitting in a family meeting about a year after your marriage that you realized you had grown to feel more than just okay with the marriage.

Tommy was a closed off individual and through the entire year you had been married, you felt like you were just starting to finally get to know the real him. You never pried because he never pried in your life. If you had general questions, neither of you were afraid to ask them, but anything more was left up for the person to tell. You had more questions than answers still, specifically about the matching scars on his cheeks, but you didn’t dare ask. He hadn’t asked about the scar that ran from your right shoulder blade down to your spine, so you didn’t ask about his scars.

It was a common occurrence for Esme, Ada, and Polly to sit with you at one of the desks in the betting shop, whispering things to you during family meetings to fill in any gaps and answer any questions you may have had.

“Alfie has informed me that the Sicilians are being provided aid by Sabini, in the form of cars and housing,” Tommy started, causing Arthur to let out a loud groan of frustration.

Before you could get dragged into hearing any more of it, you turned your head to Esme who was sitting next to you.

“Sabini’s a prick, I know that, but what has he done to us?” You asked quietly, your eyes still flickering back-and-forth between Tommy and the rest of his family as they spoke about what to do next.

Esme began explaining exactly what Sabini had done. How he and five other men came after Tommy in the dark of night, how he’d ripped out a tooth, sliced his cheeks, and beat him to an inch of his life.

The rage that settled inside of you was your first hint that you had grown to genuinely care for Tommy as more than just a friend and (amazing) fuck buddy. Your jaw remained clenched and set for the rest of the meeting, but as soon as the meeting was called to end, you wiped the look from your face and forced a calm expression to take over.

You stood up and walked over to Tommy, forcing a small smile to your lips,

“I’m not really feeling all that well. You go with your brothers for a drink, I’m just going to head back home, okay?” You said, meeting his eyes so he wouldn’t have a reason to not believe you.

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to look for any sign you were lying. You had been fine that morning and fine two hours prior when you sat down for the meeting, but he had no reason to believe you were lying so he simply nodded, placed a hand on the small of your back to pull you closer to him, and kissed your forehead.

“I won’t be out long. Ask Frances for anything you need, okay, love?”

You nodded and the forced smile turned to a genuine one,

“I will, promise,” you told him before stepping away from him and waving goodbye to the rest of the family.

Yes. You had truly gotten lucky when it came to who you had been forced to marry.

The entire ride back to the Arrow House, you were silent and going over your plan in your head. You knew you’d have to earn Tommy’s trust back after this, but you didn’t particularly care. You were a force of nature on your best day. You were lethal when you were angry.

Once you arrived back, you immediately headed upstairs to yours and Tommy’s shared room. The marriage may have started off with the two of you in separate rooms, “I’m called the devil, but that doesn’t mean I’m some sort of monster. You can sleep in your own room until you’re comfortable sharing a bed,” but it didn’t take more than a couple weeks for you to eventually join him in bed.

Damn those blue eyes, full lips, and that jawline.

You grabbed a small bag and threw the first set of clothes you laid hands on into it, then, much more carefully, a dress. You grabbed everything else you needed and headed to Tommy’s office next.

I’ll be back soon. I’m sorry for lying, but I’ll be back.

You signed the note and left it in the center of his desk where you knew he would see it, held down by his ashtray.

As quickly as you had entered the house, you left it, getting right back into the car with the driver Tommy had employed for you. You told him the name of a hotel in London that you knew was just outside of anyone’s territory.

The drive seemed to pass by too quickly and soon you were saying goodbye to the driver and sending him home for the night. It was barely 7 in the evening when you got up to your room.

“If there is a God, please let me get through this. I’ll make it up to you… somehow,” you said quietly.

The beading on the dress swayed loudly around your body as you pulled the dress on. The pins in your hair seemed to be extra noticeable against your scalp. The straps on your shoes pressed into your skin more than usual. The blade held against your thigh and hidden by your dress seemed to refuse to warm up. Your left hand felt entirely too light with your ring missing.

You knew it was only your mind playing tricks on you. You’d worn this outfit before and it had always turned heads, which is exactly what you wanted.

You needed Sabini to notice you.

You greeted the cab driver politely as you stepped in and ignored the way his eyes seemed to follow you a bit too closely.

The doors of the club were held open for you and you made your way to the bar and took a seat, knowing you were just playing a waiting game now.

You could feel eyes on you. The wife of Thomas Shelby in Sabini’s club, hours away from Birmingham, far out of Peaky Blinders territory or her father’s territory. You stuck out like a sore thumb, even if you would have blended in during any other scenario.

It felt like an eternity passed before you finally saw the man that made your blood boil, but one glance at the clock above the bar told you it hadn’t even been an hour.

“You seem lost. I thought we had made it clear that your kind weren’t welcomed here,” Sabini said once he was in front of you.

A charming smile graced your lips and you looked up at him,

“My kind?” You questioned, playing innocent.

“Yes. Your kind. You’re the wife of Thomas Shelby and I don’t appreciate him ignoring the last warning I gave him and sending you-“

“I wasn’t sent here,” you stopped him, lifting your left hand and pushing a piece of hair that hadn’t fallen back behind your ear, “and I’m not really a Shelby or a Blinder, am I?”

His eyes were drawn to your hand and noticed the lack of a ring you wore and he quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Is that so? I was under the impression the two of you were lovebirds.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your lips and looked away, trying to come off as shy. When you looked back up to him, you hoped the look on his face meant he was intrigued and believing you.

“Perhaps we could talk about it somewhere else… somewhere private?” You asked him, batting your eyelashes as you did so.

Gods help you. The smirk he gave you made your stomach twist and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face, but patience was something you’d adopted a lot of.

“Allow me to show you to my office then,” he said, offering you a hand which you forced yourself to take.

He guided you through the club and towards the back. Some amount of luck seemed to be on your side as his office was behind the stage and provided some cover for any noise you might make. Even more so as you noticed a window just large enough for you to be able to crawl out of.

Once the door was shut behind you, he sat down behind his desk and motioned for you to take a seat in one of the chairs on the opposite side.

“Trouble in paradise, I take it,” Sabini said as he poured you both a drink.

“It was never paradise to begin with,” you replied, thanking him for the drink and taking a sip.

You had grown used to Tommy’s Irish whiskey and the bourbon he gave you wasn’t nearly as smooth going down.

“Was it not? From what I’ve heard, you two have quite the fairytale. Gang leader’s daughter married off to another gang leader, uniting two empires.”

“That’s not the way I see it,” you lied.

“And how do you see it?”

“A desperate father sold off his daughter to a desperate gang leader in an attempt for the both of them to gain more power and disregarded the woman’s wishes,” you replied simply, shrugging your shoulders.

“And so you’ve come to London for what?” Sabini questioned, wanting to hear you say it.

“Because I think we can help each other, Mr. Sabini,” you said, downing the rest of the bourbon and standing up.

His eyes followed your movements, his eyes trailing up your body before resting on your legs again.

“And how do you think we could help each other?” He asked.

You moved to stand in front of him, placing one leg over the side of his and straddled him, placing your arms around his neck.

“They trust me, Mr. Sabini. They don’t suspect me of anything,” you started. The shiver of disgust that rolled up your spine due to his hands trailing up the back of your thighs was one he apparently took as excitement as he gripped slightly at the backs of them, “I can tell you everything and, in return, I get out of my marriage once they’re all gone.”

“They don’t even realize the ticking time bomb they’ve got in their fingertips, do they?” He asked and a chuckle left your lips as a genuine smirk took over.

“They don’t…” you said, trailing your hands down his chest and then up your thigh, trying to make the move appear seductive. Your fingers wrapped around the hilt of your knife, “and neither do you, apparently.”

His eyes widened and he realized the trap he had walked into at the same time as you pressed the blade of the knife to his neck.

“I’d say that if you ever threaten my husband or our family again, you’ll regret it, but you won’t be,” you told him, unable to resist pausing for a touch of dramatic effect before adding on, “Never fuck with a Shelby.”

In the next second, you were quickly slicing the knife across his neck and flinching back as his blood coated you.

You knew your next move was morbid, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It had been morbid for him and five other men to attack your husband when he was alone. It was morbid for him to rip out his tooth. It had been morbid for him to slice his cheeks. It was just as morbid for you to quickly and quietly clear off his desk, dip your fingers into his blood, and leave a bloodied message across his desk.

Revenge is a scorned Shelby

As soon as the message was written, you grabbed one of the coats from the coat rack and slipped it on, then crawled out of the window. The coat was long enough to cover all of the bloodied mess that was now your dress.

Sabini is dead.

That seemed to be the only thing you could think of as you were driven back to the Arrow House. It wasn’t the first time you had killed a man and you knew it wouldn’t be last.

But you hadn’t told anyone about this time. You hadn’t told anyone your plan, where you were going, or why you were doing it. You had also just started a war.

You weren’t surprised to see almost every light in the house still on when you arrived, and you made sure to slip the cab driver a little extra for the long drive.

You hadn’t risked staying in London longer than you needed to. You had gone into your hotel room, grabbed your bag, and promptly left, only taking the time to slip your wedding ring back on when you were in the cab.

When you stepped into the house, Tommy was in the hallway. All he saw as you stepped in the door was you, in another man’s coat, your wedding ring still on your finger, but your hair and makeup done much differently than it had been you had left.

You stayed silent as you stared at him with nervousness written on your face.

He put out his cigarette and quirked an eyebrow at you, a silent prompt for you to explain yourself.

Your silent explanation was to undo the tie on the coat and let it fall to the floor, revealing your blood stained dress.

“I need a fucking drink for this one,” Tommy grumbled, motioning for you to follow him. He guided you to his office and poured both of you a drink, handed you your glass, then sat down in his office chair. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Do you want the short version or the long version?” You asked, a smirk on your face as he looked up at where you still stood across the room.

Despite himself, he couldn’t help but chuckle and shrug his shoulders,

“Humor me. Short version first,” he told you.

“About a year ago I got married, and tonight I started a war.”

Tommy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk and running a hand over his face, “Long version.”

“About a year ago, I got married. Over the past year my husband has been nothing but a respectful gentleman, making it nearly impossible for me not to fall for him when you combine it with his fucking blue eyes that could bring the devil to his knees,” you started, feeling the hint of a blush creep into your cheeks, which you knew he noticed by the way his eyes flicked to your cheeks and then back to your eyes, “then today we had a meeting with his family where he mentioned Sabini. When I asked, his sister-in-law told me about what Sabini had done to him. About how my husband had been beaten to an inch of his life and brutalized, leaving him permanently scarred, and I knew I had to make the bastard pay.

“So, I lied to my husband and said I didn’t feel well. I went home, packed a bag, left him a note saying I’d be back, and went to London. I rented a hotel room where I changed into a fancy dress and did my hair and makeup, then I wrapped a knife to my thigh and slid my wedding ring into my bag and went to The Eden Club. News of a Shelby woman spread quickly and Sabini showed up to question me within an hour. I lied to Sabini, told him that I didn’t want to be a Shelby and that I had never wanted to be one. He took me back to his office and I sat on his lap and made him think I was about to cheat on my husband when I slit his throat and made sure he knew it was because of what he’d done to my husband. I left a message on his desk, went back to the hotel, grabbed my bag, and then headed back to our house.”

Silence filled the room for a long moment as Tommy stared at you. His eyes were unreadable as he watched you.

“What did the message say?” He suddenly asked.

“Revenge is a scorned Shelby.”

“Nothing about the Peaky Blinders?” He asked curiously, tilting his head slightly.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It wasn’t Peaky business,” you answered confidently, watching him just as closely as he watched you as he stood from his chair and came to stand in front of you.

“Was it not?” He questioned, taking the untouched glass of whiskey from your hand and setting it on the desk before turning back to stare you down.

“No. It was Shelby business, but not Peaky business.”

“Explain.”

“He didn’t just harm a Peaky Blinder. He harmed a Shelby, my Shelby.” Your gaze was unwavering as you held eye contact with him. You wanted him to know you meant your words. He was yours, and the protective touches on your back when you were in public and the way he intimidated and glared at any man who tried approaching you was all the proof you needed to know that you were his.

“So I’m your Shelby?” He asked as he took a step towards you and continued to do so until you pressed against the office door.

“Yes.”

“And that means you’re mine?” He questioned, his hands now pressed against the wall on either side of your head.

You could feel that you were walking into some sort of trap, but you didn’t have a way out of it right now. All you could do was be honest.

“Yes.”

“Then you should know something about what it means to be mine.”

“What’s that?” You asked, your breathing getting shorter as he lowered his face so it was level with yours.

In a second his hands were on your waist and he had you picked up against the wall with legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.

“My Shelby is to never come home wearing another man’s coat again,” he said, pressing his lips to yours in a rough kiss.

You don’t know what reaction you had expected from him, but being pinned to his office door and him kissing you hadn’t been one you had thought of. Your shock wore off after half a second and you returned the kiss as your arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close.

“You’re not mad?” You asked against his lips.

“At you starting a war?” He questioned, leaning down and beginning to trail kisses hastily down your neck.

“Yes,” you replied, leaning your head back to give him more access.

“Livid,” he said with no hint of joking in his voice.

“This is quite the punishment,” you replied sarcastically. A moan fell from your lips as he nipped at your pulse point.

“Oh, I’m livid,” he said, looking up at you, “but also extremely turned on at the thought of my wife slicing a man’s throat over me and coming home still covered in his blood.”

You weren’t given a chance to respond before he was kissing you again. Your hands came down to his tie, pulling it loose before starting to work at the buttons of his waistcoat.

He didn’t bother setting you down, only turned the two of you around and walked you over to the couch in the office. He laid you down on it and then pulled the waistcoat off before leaning back down between your legs and kissing you again once. His lips started trailing down your neck again while your hands went to undo the buttons of his shirt.

“Someone’s impatient tonight,” he teased as nipped at your skin again.

“You’re the one who pinned me to the door after I revealed I killed a man for you,” you replied in the same teasing tone as him. You undid the last button of his shirt and pushed the fabric off his shoulders, his undershirt following a second later.

He reached his hand to the side of your dress and unzipped it, pulling the fabric down your body while his hands grabbed hold of your underwear, stockings, and garters in the same move and pulled them off, leaving you completely naked underneath him.

He stared and looked over your body a moment longer before running his hands up your thighs and giving a gentle tap to your thigh,

“Up,” he said, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion.

You did as told though and sat up, leaving him enough room to lay on his back and pull you up to straddle him,

“Was killing a man not enough work?” You teased, not actually minding if he was going to have you ride him. At least it meant you wouldn’t be subjected to him teasing you when all you really wanted was for him to fuck you.

“That’s cute,” he said sarcastically, gripping your thighs and attempting to pull you further up his torso, “that’s not where you’re sitting tonight.”

The man was no stranger at using his mouth to make you see stars, but you’d never ridden his face before. You looked at him, the question obvious on your face.

“Seriously?” You asked even though you knew by his face that he was.

“Seriously. You were enough of a leader to go after Sabini, you’re enough of a leader to sit on my face. Up,” he repeated again while his grip on your thighs tried pulling you forward.

You did as you were told this time, shuffling forward until you were straddling his face. You weren’t given a choice of when to sit as his hands came to your hips and pulled you down, forcing your full weight onto his waiting mouth.

If there was one thing you were grateful for, it was Thomas’ ability to use his tongue and lips in more than just outsmarting his enemies.

His tongue trailed through your lips, his hands keeping your hips in place, while his tongue slowly explored you at first.

It had only taken a couple weeks for you to crack and make the first move on Tommy, joining him in bed one night when you’d decided you could trust him, and you’d been insatiable and addicted to him ever since, though he never complained. He’d spent the first couple times figuring out every move that made you tick and every name that made your cheeks flush and used them to his advantage at every turn.

His tongue was a gift with the way he knew exactly how to use it. He dragged it up and down between your folds, drinking in every bit of your arousal before focusing on your clit, alternating between quick flicks and long drags.

Tommy’s hands on your hips began guiding them, silently instructing you to take control. You didn’t hesitate in going along with what he wanted you to do and began rocking your hips. One of your hands trailed to his hair while your other went to lay on top of one his that gripped your hip. You hadn’t realized the volume of your moans until you felt the vibration of his moan against your clit.

Your hips jerked at the added stimulation and he hummed against you purposefully, his eyes never leaving you as your hips sped up, chasing your own high. Within moments you could feel it approaching and your grip on his hair and hand tightened, moans of his name falling from your mouth like a prayer.

“Please, fuck,” you cried, whimpers falling from your lips, “Tommy, Tommy…”

Your high crashed over you a moment later and you felt Tommy’s movements begin to slow down as you rode out your high, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath.

You went to move off of him, but his grip on your hips tightened at the same time that his tongue started speeding up again.

Your moans of pleasure turned to whimpers of over stimulation and you squirmed against him, but he didn’t let up. Your hips jerked as you tried moving away from him, but all it did was add to the stimulation.

You could practically feel him smirking underneath you as he continued on, watching as your eyes clenched shut and you relented yourself to letting him torture you so beautifully.

If it wasn’t for the way your body was on edge from not being given any type of break after your first orgasm, you might have felt slightly ashamed at the way he was able to bring you to your second orgasm so quickly.

And then your third.

Tears were freely falling from your face when he finally slowed his movements to a stop and helped you to lay down on your back.

He trailed soft and slow kisses along your thighs and stomach to help bring you back down to earth. When his lips reconnected with yours, you returned the kiss, letting your eyes fall shut at the surprisingly tender moment.

“Next time you want to start a war, at least let me know your plans,” he said, causing you to open your eyes and be met with a smirk dancing across his lips, “and don’t doubt my punishments.”

You could’ve smacked the smirk off his face if it wasn’t for the fact he had turned your entire body into mush.

“Think you can be a good girl and handle one more?” He asked.

Your cheeks flushed at the praise and his hands moved to his belt and pants, pulling them off after you nodded your confirmation.

Once the rest of his clothes had been removed, he gently lifted your legs and positioned himself between them. He was gentle as he pushed inside you, but the smirk on his face from the way your voice cracked when you moaned was obvious.

The stretch was familiar at this point, but it didn’t mean you didn’t need the moment he gave you to adjust. When you nodded your head, he started moving.

Tommy knew your body like he knew his own after your time together. His hips immediately changed position as he started thrusting, making sure to hit the spot inside you that added to the ways your legs shook underneath him.

He leaned down and placed his elbows on either side of your head, capturing your lips in a kiss right as a moan parted through them. One of his hands came back to cradle the back of your head and his fingers tangled into your hair to keep you close to him.

His other hand went to one of your legs and pulled it up so it rested in the crook of his elbow, causing him to hit even deeper inside you.

The action caused you to let out a high pitched moan and you wrapped your arms around him. Your next moan broke the passionate kiss the two of you had shared while your nails raked down his back.

“Who do you belong to?” He asked, beginning to speed up the movements of his hips.

“Y-you,” you moaned out, your back arching underneath him.

“Say my name. Who do you belong to?” He repeated.

“Thomas Shelby,” you answered and dropped your head back.

“Good girl. You’re my fucking wife,” he moaned out. He sat up, using one hand to keep your leg up in the same position while his other hand went to your already over sensitive clit, “all mine. No other man gets to touch you, look at you, or even fucking think of you. It’s my cock that you’re whimpering over right now, and it’s the only cock you’ll ever be whimpering over again.”

“I’m yours, Tommy,” you repeated, your voice breaking as moan after moan fell from your lips.

“Then cum for me. Be a good Shelby wife and make a fucking mess on my cock just like how you made a mess of this war tonight,” he commanded.

You didn’t need any more encouragement from him as your fourth orgasm hit you, causing your back to arch again and your nails to run down his arms.

His moves start to become more sloppy and his pace sped up as he began to chase his own high, the feeling of your cunt squeezing around his cock only driving him closer to the edge.

“Want to feel you Tommy, please,” you moaned underneath him, “please, cum inside me.”

“Fuck,” he swore out. His hips pushing against yours as his high hit him and his arms came down to either side of your head again while he shoved his face into your neck, completely claiming you as his own while his cum filled you.

His hips slowed as he rode out both of your highs and your arms came to wrap around him, placing a gentle kiss on the side of his head you could reach.

Once the two of your breathing had slowed down to a normal pace, he moved to push himself up and your legs around his waist tightened along with your arms.

“Don’t. Not yet,” you said in a quiet voice.

“I’m going to crush you, love.” He placed soft kisses along your shoulders between his words as he tried warning you.

“I’m a grown woman. I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” you replied and began running your nails softly along the shaved part of his head, knowing the motion worked on him every time.

“Stubborn,” he falsely chided, but relented and relaxed back into your hold.

“Little late to the party if you’ve just worked that out.” Your reply causing both of you to chuckle. “Remind me to start more wars if it means you fuck me like that every time.”

His hand came down and gently slapped your thigh in response while a burst of quiet giggles left your lips.

“Stubborn and a brat,” he teased, sitting up again and carefully sliding out of you.

“Too bad you’re stuck with me,” you responded with a smirk.

“I don’t think of it that way,” he said as he stood up and wrapped his arms under your waist and legs before pulling you up into his arms.

“How do you think of it?” You asked him as he carried you across the hall and into your shared room.

“I think I’m lucky enough to be married to a woman who killed for me over a years-old attack even though we’d never even said that we loved each other.” He set you down in the middle of the bed before crawling in next to you and pulling you into his chest.

A bright blush rose to your face as he pointed out that you had never even said you loved each other, even though you had admitted to him earlier that you had fallen for him. You didn’t know how to reply immediately and you turned in his arms to look up at him, his arms staying locked around your waist.

He didn’t seem to expect you to reply though, because he leaned in to you, pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was tender and sweet, as if he was trying to communicate what your actions had meant to him without having the words to say it.

“I fell for you, too,” he finally admitted, “I don’t know when it happened, but I know that I realized it tonight. The panic I felt to see your note and to see you come home covered in blood. The anger I felt over seeing you another man’s jacket. The way I felt when you revealed what you had done and why…” He trailed off, looking down at you and seeming to try and memorize every part of your face, “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours and you’re mine,” you replied, leaning up to kiss him.

“I’m yours and you’re mine.”

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adelliet · 24 days

Text

Wolverine x f!reader

SCHOOL HEAT

Summary: You're a teacher at a school for gifted, and even when you sometimes have worries about fitting in, your colleague, to whom you've always been really close, will help you overcome them.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, strong language, teasing, flirting, jelousy, traumatic experience, nicknames (princess, good girl...), oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex (p i v), mirror sex

The story takes place in the multiverse with a young Charles Xavier

A/n: Uhhh I don't understand what happened but this is again so freaking long, I'm truly sorry. I just always get lost in it. Also sorry for grammar mistakes, if there are any, English is not my native language. However I hope you'll like it, enjoy! <3

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Since the first day Charles convinced you to join the X-Men and be a teacher in a ‘school for gifted’ aka mutant school, your mind couldn't stop thinking about one of the members. The typical cat-ear haircut, stern expression on his face and a huge belt holding his jeans. Logan Howlett.

In the first days, you were worried and anxious. After all, you are the only human in here without any powers, any special gift. That’s why you were afraid that the mutants would judge you, want to kick you out or that you would be left behind. But all these worries were immediately gone when you met Logan.

As soon as you met, he helped you and always tried to pull you into the conversation whenever you felt left out. He didn't have to say anything, just his act was enough to show that you were one of them without being gifted.

You still didn't quite understand why Xavier wanted you among them so urgently, but it didn't take long for everyone to find out the reason. Your grace, kindness and brain. You are an amazing scientist.

Even the students didn't make fun of you or bully you in any way. Well, from time to time there is a trouble maker that threatens you, but it doesn't happen often. Maybe it's because everyone are aware that if they hurt you, Logan would punish them.

Withal there is no secret that you two have a thing for each other. The endless flirting during breaks, the looks when you pass each other in the hallway or the subtle touches whenever you're a little close together. But it was never more than flirting. After all, you have your dignity and respect for work and for yourself.

However, this flirting of yours is not inconspicuous to others. Storm asks you every day if you've kissed yet, the students also ask questions about your and Logan's relationship, and Charles is always silently grinning whenever he sees the two of you in the same place. It's kind of annoying, but in a way, you kinda like it.

Now you were teaching biology and it was the last class before your break. You couldn't wait for a good cup of coffee while you put your feet up on the table and relax. Maybe even play some music in your headphones, for the full experience.

When the bell rang, you breathlessly smiled at the students and wished them a nice day. You grab a few books that helped you teach and left the classroom, straight to the teacher's cabinet. It's a room where are meetings and all the teachers meet even during breaks.

When you walked in, you were in for a pleasant surprise.

Logan with his feet up on the table and a mug of coffee in his hand. You smirk as you glance at him, putting your things on the table. “’m starting to think these little breaks are the only reason you teach”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair while watching you turn on the caffee machine. ”You caught me. The kids? Just a bonus. But spending time here with you? Definitely makes the day worth it” you could feel his eyes glued your back.

You smiled teasingly as you turn around to face him.“Oh, so you’re saying I’m the real highlight of your day? I had no idea I had that effect on you” of course you knew that.

Logan grinned, his eyes sparkling while looking at you through his dark eyes. “I thought it was obvious. You’ve been distracting me all day. Not that I’m complaining...”

You raise an eyebrow, walking to him a little closer “Oh really? And how exactly have I been distracting you? I’ve barely said a word to you today” you adored this banter, your pulse increased whenever Logan spoke and he knew that.

He playfully lowered his voice “You don’t need to say anything. You’ve got that look, you know? The one that makes me forget whatever lesson I’m teaching.” He was driving you crazy but you kept your cool. You learned that after all these months with this heartthrob.

You laugh softly, tilting your head “Hmm… I think you’re just looking for an excuse to be distracted. But I can’t say I mind the attention” you smoothly turn around on your heel, grabbing your mug full of that brown liquid.

Logan leaned in his chair a little closer, his voice teasing “Well, if I’m going to be distracted, I’d rather it be by you. Though, if you want me to focus, you might have to step in and help keep me on track”

You smiled mischievously, eyes sparkling with playful viciousness “Oh, I’m sure I can find ways to help you…focus. But that depends, what’s in it for me?” You sway your hair softly, leaning against the counter.

He grined tilting his head while his eyes were full of sin images. “Hmm, how about this? You help me stay focused during the day, and I’ll make it worth your while after hours. Dinner, drinks… your choice.”

You bit your lip playfully, the thought of Logan inviting you on a date doesn't sound bad at all, even tho you have only professional relationship “Tempting offer. You’re really working hard to get my attention, aren’t you?”

Logan just smiled confidently, his dick twitching in his pants at your risky attitude “Oh, I’ve had your attention for a while now. I’m just making sure you know I’m worth yours”

A playful grin appeared on your face, taking a sip of coffee before talking again. “But don’t think you’ve got me wrapped around your finger just yet.”

Logan keep his smirk on his face, locking eyes with you “Oh, I’m not worried. I’ve got a feeling it’s only a matter of time. And I’m patient… when I need to be.” You bit your lip again, as your mind filled up with scenarios where Logan needs to be patient and god bless you, they were naughty.

“We’ll see about that, Logan. Keep working on it, and maybe you’ll get your chance.” A soft scoff escaped from his lips, as he kept eye contact with you. You took a sip from your coffee when suddenly, Storm walks in.

You both turned your heads towards the door and as soon as she saw you both, she started apologizing. "Oh sorry I didn't know you are in here" "It's okay, I gotta go anyway..." you grab your things from the table, giving Logan a devilish smile.

When you were ready to leave, Storm stopped you, whispering in your ear. "Did you fuck already?" you tiredly exhale and shake your head, but couldn't stop smilling. When you finally left, you felt butterflies in your stomach and goosebombs jumped all over your body. Talking with Logan is definitely an experience.

You went to your office where you exchanged some books and got ready for the next class. Suddenly you hear a soft knocking. You look behind your shoulder and said “open!”, curious who is behind the door. When Charles appeared in them a slight disappointment awoke in you, because you wanted to see there someone else, but your smile didn't leave your face.

"Hi Charles, you need somethin'?" you asked after you moved your head back in front, focusing on books laying on the table. Charles closed the door and walked closer to you. "Yeah...you have a lesson now right?" you nodded and fully turned around to face him.

"Don't worry, I won't bother you for long" with those words he handed you a small poster. You gave him a confused expression before you took it and explored it.

MUTANT PARTY TOMORROW was written at the top with the biggest font they could use. You couldn't help but lift up your corners a bit as you read the title. "So a party huh?" you asked but keeping your eyes still glued on the poster.

Xavier nodded and watched your eyes go from left to right, reading every piece of information that was there. "The invitation is also for teachers" he added and you nimbly lift your head up with excitement in your eyes. "Really? That means that I am invited too?" Charles just nodded with a grin and you tried your best not to hug him so tightly, until his organs explode.

Charles scoffed suddenly and you frowned. "Stop reading my mind" you hissed bitterly and he just looked down, with that stupid grimace on his face. "I'll be happy to see you there" he added and left, finally leaving you freedom to show off your happiness.

You jumped few times and quietly screamed, before you returned back to reality. You fixed your clothes and hair quickly, grabbed your teaching supplies and headed off like nothing happened.

You don't even know why you're so excited about some school party for teenagers. You probably miss those years when you went to the club every weekend with your friends and danced your soul away. Now is your chance to go back to those years, even if it won't be the same, it's still a party.

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The school was silent now, all the students tucked away in their rooms for the night. You’d slipped out of the hallway, your steps quiet as you made your way to your room. The evening had been long, and you were ready to sink into bed when a familiar voice caught your attention.

Logan was casually leaning against the doorframe of his own room with a toothbrush in his mouth, his voice low and inviting. “Hey… heading off to bed already?”

You turned towards him, a smile tugging at your lips as you caught the glint in his eyes. Logan looked relaxed, his sleeping pants were loose and you could tell that he has nothing underneath, sending a pleasurable waves between your legs. His sleeping white shirt was tightly fit on his musculing body, emphasizing his biceps.

“I was. Why, do you have a better offer?” You said playfully, stopping near your room.

Logan smirk, his eyes roaming over you slowly before locking with yours. “Actually, I do. How about a drink in the kitchen? Unless you’re too tired for a little company…”

The suggestion hung in the air, the double meaning unmistakable. Something about the way his voice dipped on the last word sent a shiver down your spine.

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider it. “Hmm, I think I could make some time for a drink… as long as it’s interesting” you finished the sentence with a teasing smile, making Logan grin.

“Oh, I can promise it’ll be interesting” he said, dissapearing in his room to spit off the toothpaste he had in his mouth and before you blink again, he was back in the hallway, waiting for you to join him for walk.

You slowly peeled away from the wall and merge with Logan's footsteps, his eyes pinned on your body. He didn't care if you noticed he's checking you out, you knew it anyway.

When you walked into the dimly lit kitchen, the soft glow from the overhead light casting long shadows across the room. Logan followed close behind, his presence warm, almost electric, as he moved to the counter and pulled out a bottle of whiskey.

He poured two glasses, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as he slid one across the counter toward you.

He then leaned forward, his voice was low and teasing. “So… what exactly does it take to keep you interested?”

You took a slow sip of the drink, your eyes never leaving his as the heat of the whiskey spread through your chest. The playful look in his eyes had your pulse quickening, and you leaned forward just enough to close some of the space between you.

“That depends. Are you up for the challenge?” You said with a sultry voice and teasing smile.

Logan chuckled softly, the sound deep and smooth, sending a jolt of anticipation through you. He stepped closer, just inches away now, his hand resting on the counter next to yours. The air between you seemed to thicken, the tension palpable as his gaze dropped to your lips for a split second before meeting your eyes again.

“Oh, I’m more than up for it” His voice husky, his breath brushing your skin. Your grin didn't leave your face.

“Are you sure? I can be a difficult beast to tame” You were a little surprised by your own words, but you loved the tension between the two of you. Your core started throbbing as he leaned just a bit closer, the space between you almost nonexistent now.

"Trust me, I can tame anything, even you" his eyes darkened and his grin fade into devilish smile. You felt your breath catch in your throat at his words, the raw intensity in his eyes sending heat pooling low in your stomach.

The tension between you was crackling now, both of you standing on the edge of something dangerous, something neither of you seemed willing to back away from.

However, your really lustful moment was interrupted by a student, who went to the kitchen. You both quickly moved away from each other and awkwardly cleared your throats.

Both of you were so lost in each others eyes, that you didn't even hear his footsteps. "Hey kid" Logan quickly turned the attention away from us and greeted the little boy who really judged you by his face. He kept his eyes on you the entire time, as he opened the fridge and took out an ice cream.

"It's pretty late don't you think?" You noticed how Logan tightly held the edge of the counter, his teeth clenched and his muscles flinched, he really wanted to get rid off that kid. "I can't sleep" he said and casually walked passed Logan to get a spoon.

Logan dropped his head down and shut his eyes, waiting for the kid to leave, but he lost his patience really quickly. "Hey, why don't you eat it in your room?" he snapped at him sternly and the boy was frozen for a moment, before he shrugged and finally left the kitchen.

You chuckle a bit, trying to cover it with your hand but Logan heard you very well. "Somethin' funny?" his voice was stern, but it didn't scare you. "No...no" you tried your best not to laugh when you looked into Logan's eyes again.

"You're a pain in the ass" he exhaled annoyed when he noticed your struggling and took a sip of his glass. You giggled and nodded, letting him know that you are aware.

"Are you goin' to that party tomorrow?" you asked curiously, your voice soft. You decided to change the subject and finally pick up some dignity. After all, you are at school and if only the boy came in a little later, who knows what he would have seen. It definitely wouldn't be professional.

Logan raised his eyebrows and looked at you. As he placed the glass on the counter, he finally answered. "You mean that 'mutant party'?" you nodded and he started laughing, annoyingly. It was a mockery of you for even asking.

You didn't move a nerve in your body and waited for Logan to calm down. "Are you serious?" he asked as he checked you and noticed your stern expression.

"Yes" you hissed and Logan spluttered again. You rolled your eyes and took a sip of whiskey, accompanying a tired sigh.

"You know it's a fucking teen-party right?" he kept giggling at you, making a fool of you. "And? Charles said he'd love to see me there" Logan immediately stopped smiling and finally got serious. "Charles?" He repeated his name to make sure you meant the same person. You nodded, taking another sip from your glass.

"Why the fuck would he want you there" you hit him with an offended face, but when you saw the jelousy in his eyes, you couldn't stay mad for long.

"What? Any problem with that?" you asked, your corner lifting up a bit as you saw Logan struggling to keep his rage under control. “No, I was just surprised” he said in his typical deep voice, but you knew very well that it wasn't true.

"Sure, well I'll come there anyway and I'll be happy to see you there too" you winked at him flirtatiously and took your and his empty glass to the sink. Logan just watched you with unreal lust and admiration, you were the apple of his eyes and the hope of all his desires.

How many nights did he stay up with only you in his head, how many lube did he use over the picture of your beautiful face, all that just for barely touching you in reality. He wanted more, if he could he would fuck you right now and then, but he knows it's not possible.

“Well, I should go to bed now…” you said as you put the glasses down. "But it was nice to have a drink with you" you turn around but your own words got caught up in your throat, as Logan suddenly appeared right in front of you, dangerously close. His eyes were dark, a mischievous grin appeard on his face and his hot heavy breath tickles your skin.

His chest almost touching yours and you gasped quietly when you felt his massive hands gently grabbing your weist. Without much effort he pulled you even closer to him, your inner thighs feeling his growing erection in his pants and your nipples, still covered by clothes, touching his chest. The only thing that was still quite far away were your lips.

You parted them, the throbbing between your legs was unbearable and Logan's provocation of his squeezing of your hips didn't help much too.

He tried to go as far as he could beyond the limits. "Come on, let's stop playin'" he whispered, leaning his face to your ear so you could hear better. "You think I don't smell the wetness in your panties right now?" you froze, not only did his husky voice bring goosebomps all over your body, but his words made your heart skip a beat.

You forgot that he is a fucking Wolverine, and can smell those kind of things, but how could you prevent it? That man can make you climax just by his voice.

Logan chuckles in your ear before moving his face back in front of yours, your noses almost touching. Your breaths were heavy, both of you were one inch away from ruining your professional relationship.

"I know you want it" his grin grew and his hands on your body gave you a light squeeze. Something about his palms on your hips brought you comfort and security, you felt safe with him. You felt like no one could hurt you, like you had superpowers too. It was an inexplicable feeling.

You were so lecherous, so lustful for Logan, for his wet lips, for his cock that makes his pants tight, for him. But after all, you had your conscience, which told you to let it go, to go to sleep, but your body wanted the exact opposite.

It was a fight against yourself, you lick your lip and try to think with your brain, but your body kept failing you. Logan's eyes keep switching from your lips to your eyes, deciding if he should already break the barrier, or wait for your first move.

Fortunately, your difficult decision was solved once again by the boy with the ice cream, who stepped into the kitchen. You pulled away from each other and looked around like nothing happened.

"Hey what you're doing here...again" Logan spoke through his clenched teeth, digging his fingers into the counter. He really wanted to get rid of that kid. "I was just returning the spoon" the poor boy looked confused and quite scared by Logan's expression. He was absolutely killing the boy with his eyes, even though it wasn't the kid's fault, that he always interrupted you. Maybe it was a sign that you simply can't be more than colleagues.

You smiled at the boy and tried to ease his nervousness a bit, but he was gone from the kitchen like a flash. You felt a little sorry for him, but you were too tired to blame Logan.

You yawned and decided to go sleep, finally. "Well, it's really late Logan" you informed him, slowly walking towards the door. "But thank you, for a beautiful evening" you glanced at him one last time and he let you.

Normally he would try to convince you or just simply run to you, grab you and hold you until your limit break and you kiss him, but he didn't do that. He was still leaning against the counter, looking at you through his heavy eyelids and his corners up. He knew nothing was going to happen today.

"Was it interesting, as you wished?" you chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, it was" your voice calm and sleepy, fully ready to drown into a web of dreams.

“Goodnight Lo” you gave Logan one last smile and walked away. You were both disappointed and a little grateful to be apart from each other. It was a really challenging evening, mostly for the psyche. Logan was impatient, waiting for you to break while you tried not to. You both deserve a long, uninterrupted and sweet sleep.

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The next day went smoothly. You had no problems with waking up, you picked your outfit easily, without throwing out all your clothes from your wardrobe and even the kids didn't make any troubles today.

These days are special and usually these things happen when some important event is coming up, which in your case, is that party.

Although you fell asleep quite easily yesterday, it took you a while. You tried to count sheep, as everybody said it helps, but your thoughts always stopped them. Thoughts about tonights party and Logan.

The moment when you were in the kitchen stuck perfectly in your head. His hands firmly gripping your hips as his hard cock teased you and prompts you to prioritize your sexual desires over rational solutions. That tiny distance between your lips, you kept wondering what would happen if you just broke it? How must his lips taste? He is definitely boss in kissing and you were a little disappointed you didn't find out yesterday.

Either way, you were getting a little annoyed with the way your brain kept going back to the image of Logan over and over again. Of course, you taught perfectly in class, as always, but it was much more difficult to stay on topic and not start yapping about something you definitely shouldn't talk about in front of the students.

When you finally had a break, you were in your office, correcting tests. You almost drew a line across of a whole paper, when you heard an aggressive knocking. When your heart calmed down, you shouted. "Come in!" your voice a little frustrated at the interruption, but not for long when you saw an excited Storm in the doorway.

She quickly closed the door behind her and hopped over to your desk like an excited bunny. "Am I disturbing?" She asked out of politeness, even though she didn't care. "Uh well, I'm correcting tests right now-" you innocently tried to give a hint, that you were busy at the moment, but Storm didn't even bother to catch that signal.

"You're going to that party tonight right!?" She was like your nine-year-old daughter, coaxing you to go carousel. You let out a exhausting breath and nodded your head, instantly getting a pitched squeal in response.

Even if you're not in the mood for her childish outbursts sometimes, Storm never fails to cheer you up, at least a little bit. Whether she makes you laugh with her behavior or just with her words, you always have to smile.

"Is Logan gonna be there too?!" you jumped a little in your swivel chair when Storm suddenly got serious and slapped her hands on the table. But the word Logan immediately brought you back to reality. The name was like some kind of trigger for all your emotions to activate.

You took a deep breath and pursed your lips into a thin line as you answered in a slightly mad voice. "I don't know" as soon as you said that you didn't even wait for Storm to answer and continued to write into the papers.

"What do you mean 'you don't know'? Didn't you talk to him?" You flinched slightly as you remembered last night and what Logan's title of the party. "I did. He said that 'It's a fucking teen-party'"

Storm rolled her eyes and grunted in annoyance. "Oh my god" she added looking at you, but you didn't react, you just silently agreed with her reaction. "So he's not going because it's a 'teen party'?" she asked you with disbelief in her voice and you just shrugged your shoulders unconsciously. "I really don't know. Maybe he'll come, maybe not.”

You said it so boldly as if you didn't care at all about Logan's presence there, but the reality was different. You wished and prayed to all gods that he would be there, that he would come and see you. Maybe the last night would repeat itself and maybe something could actually happen if he was there, but right now you have nothing else to do but hope.

"Well fuck him! Even without him you'll enjoy it, because you'll have me" you raised your head to look into Storm's eyes and give her a grateful look.

“Charles is supposed to be there too” you hinted subtly as you finished one paper and rushed to another. Storm froze for a second before she realized. "And how do you know that?" she raised an eyebrow, clearly suspecting you of something. You couldn't but giggle a bit, still paying full atention to the chimney of papers under your hands.

"He said he'll be happy to see me there, so I suppose-" Storm gasped loudly and slammed the table one more time, almost breaking it. "Are you kidding me?!" you shake your head and look up at her, her dramatic shocked expression made you chuckle more.

"But it doesn't mean anything, he just invited me there-" "It doesn't mean anything?! Are you serious?! He wants you so bad" these words were your last straw and you had to laugh. Maybe the burst of laughing was also caused by the little adrenaline in your body and the thought that someone other than Logan would want you. You couldn't lie, you kinda like the idea. It was exciting, it gave you confidence and even chills.

"Like come on! You can date a telepath!" Storm joyfully said with sparks in her eyes. "Storm, calm down-" you chuckle at her random energy boost, but inside you were a little afraid of her.

"I mean, on the other hand, Logan has big claws...maybe that's not the only thing that's big" you couldn't believe Storm's words. You quickly blinked at her a few times, before you shook your head from the shock.

"Okay you dirty minded whore, don't you have a class?" she thought for a second, before her eyes almost popped out of her dimples. "Shit!" was her last shout before she flashly disappeared from your office.

"Crazy..." you slowly shake your head as you keep chuckling. Storms words were hanging in the air and every time your brain plays the image of her saying that you can date a telepath or the thing about Logan's claws, your heart surges with adrenaline and you have to laugh. You definitely have abs by now from the endless sniggering.

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The gym had been transformed for the party—soft lighting, music humming low in the background, and clusters of your colleagues mingling around. You felt the weight of the night disappear as you walked in, your dress hugging your curves in all the right places, a bit more daring than what you'd normally wear at school.

Logan was leaning casually against the far wall, talking to couple of teachers, but the moment you stepped through the door, his attention snapped to you.

His conversation faltered, and his breath caught in his throat. For a second, he could only stare, eyes tracing the shape of your dress, the way it clung to your body, revealing just enough to send his mind wandering. He’d never seen you like this before—confident, radiant, undeniably sexy.

As you made your way toward the drink table, Logan excused himself and crossed the room, his heart racing with each step. He couldn't tear his eyes away. You noticed him approaching, a small smirk playing on your lips as he finally reached you.

“Is this the same person who hides behind a stack of books and coffee mugs all day? Because I don’t remember you looking like this…” Logan said as he gently place his hand on your waist, his hand traveled around your belly as he walked around you. He wanted to touch you so badly, much more when you look like this.

You laugh softly, turning to face him with a knowing smile. “That's the charm of women. A little make-up and revealing clothes and see what a wretch you can make of a man" you looked confidently at Logan, as a cocky smile appeared on his face.

"You're right. You're absolutely right" his voice was low, his eyes traveling over you, lingering just enough to make your pulsw quicken.

You tilted your head slightly, enjoying the effect you’re clearly having on him. “I thought you wouldn't show up here” Logan furrowed his eyebrows at first, confused but then the puzzles in his head connected together.

"I thought this is a fucking teen-party" with this comment you made it even clearler to Logan why you are surprised that he is here.

"Yeah but I've decided to give it a try" he looked around before his eyes landed on you again. The angle of him being way taller than you, looking down at you was sending shivers down your spine.

Logan leaned closer, his voice dropping as his lips touched your ears. "But mostly I'm here because of you" you could feel the heat of his body, his presence almost overwhelming as he stood just inches away, his breath brushing your ear.

The room seemed to fade into the background, the soft hum of the party drowned out by the way Logan moves his head back, his eyes drinking you in. There was something about the way he looked at you now, with a hunger that makes a fountain in your panties

It took a while for you to regain all your senses back, but when it did, you were confident again, but still slightly nervous. After all, who wouldn't be nervous, if a big handsome man stood opposite you, with a sinful expression on his face.

"Fuck, I’m just wondering how long I can keep my cool with you looking like that” he licked his lower lip, his pupils widen and he curled his fingers into a tight fist, fighting all his demons and inner thoughts from touching you.

Your heart skipped a beat at the playful edge in his voice, your skin tingling with the unspoken tension between you. The air felt heavier now, charged with an attraction you both seemed to be dancing around.

“You’re doing a pretty good job so far. But I have to say, it’s fun watching you try” you grinned, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Logan grinned back, clearly enjoying the banter. “Oh, I’m not trying. You’ve got me right where you want me” he leaned even closer to you, his rusty voice tickles your eardrums.

You raise an eyebrow. “And where's that?” voice softening as you hold his gaze, pure innocence in your eyes, while your mind was far from this word.

Logan paused for a moment, his eyes flicking to your lips before meeting your gaze again. His smile turned softer, more intense, as if weighing his next words carefully.

“Standing here, wondering what it would take for you to finally break the barrier of our professional relationship”

The tension between you was palpable now, the playful flirtation slowly shifting into something deeper, more dangerous. You could feel the pull between you, like an invisible thread drawing you closer, even though neither of you made a move. It was intoxicating, thrilling, the way you both hovered on the edge of something you weren’t quite ready to dive into, but couldn’t fully resist either.

"We'll see" you looked up at him with your corners up, all your skin covered in goosebombs, your body hot but not from the temperature in the gym, but because of Logan.

Neither of you moved, content to let the moment linger, the promise of something more hanging in the air. The night was young, but the tension between you was undeniable. It wasn’t a question of if something would happen, it was just a matter of when.

"Anyway, have you seen Charles here?" you looked around trying to find your target but Logan's dangerous silence caught your attention much better.

"Charles?" he growled through his teeth, clearly showing he isn't really happy about you mentioning another man in his presence. You find it cute, that he can't hide his jealousy and his possessive side shows easily.

"Yeah, I wanna talk to him" you nodded and started looking around again, almost stepping out as you saw a familiar figure, but in a second you move your leg, you felt a tight grip on your wrist.

You immediately snapped behind your hand and then looked at Logan. His eyes dark with a dire warning, his stern expression makes your legs flutter and cheeks hot. Before you could tell Logan to let you go, or do practically any interaction with him, Charles appeared to you.

"Hello" he said calmly, breaking your intense moment as you turn to face him. "Hi! I just wanted to look for you!" Your smile shined at Charles, with the purpose of provoking Logan even more. He just cleared his throat and nodded in greeting. Your teasing was more than successful.

"Oh really? Well here I am" you chuckle and quickly check Logan, who doesn't even flinch to look at you, his eyes were glued to Charles. Of course, every telepath knows what's going on in your head, so naturally even Logan's.

When he read his mind, his eyes widened a bit before he recovered.

"Well, I don't want to disturb you, I just wanted to thank you both for coming" he put his hands behind his back and smile. "You're not disturbing at all!" you throw your hand at Charles, Logan giving you a death glare.

"And we thank you that we can be here. It's very nicely decorated" you looked above yourself, where diamonds and blue stones were scattered, before glaring back at Charles. He looked a little nervous, but not because of your presence but rather Logan's.

"Okay well...keep an eye on the kids to avoid some accidents and enjoy yourself” Charles said with a deep sweet voice and with those words he left you and Logan alone again.

As soon as you turned around, Logan grabbed your waist and pulled you dangerously close to him. He didn't care if anyone saw you or if it was inappropriate, his wild side took over. You gasped quietly at the sudden movement and looked up into his lustful eyes. He didn't need to say anything, his face spoke for itself that he has no self-preservation anymore. All he needed was your permission and he would fuck you without hesitation, in front of everyone.

"You really think I didn't notice what you were doing?" his voice grainy and low, very similar to the voice of a wolf. His myschiev grin sends a passionate vibrations right into your core, which started throbbing immediately since Logan landed his hands on you.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself and your pulsing between your legs down, only for Logan to give you a strong squeeze, making you whine and drop your head. He scoff at your reaction and started picking on you. "Not so confident anymore, are we?"

You swiftly put yourself together and dare to look back at Logan's face. You put an effortless smile, trying hard not to melt into Logan's clutch.

"And what exactly was I doing?" You plaguinly yet innocently ask, knowing the answer damn well. Logan insidiously smirk, sensing your intentions. He leaned closer, so close that you could feel his heart beating on your chest.

“You’re playing with fire, and you know exactly how much I like the burn” he grunt, your tip of your noses practically touching and your warm breaths mixing with each other. Your pulse quicken, your whole body covered in goosebombs.

Before you could manage to give Logan an answer, your mind senses a loud cheering and screaming. Without delay you turn your head towards the noise, squeezing your eyes to have a better view.

There was a crowd, surrounded by someone. You couldn't really see who was in the center, but that doesn't change the fact that you must intervene. You and Logan looked at each other one last time, before quickly stumbling towards the cluster.

Logan was yelling at them from a distance but you were quiet and tried to move over the kids to the center as quickly as possible. Of course, Logan with his height had found it easier to free himself but that didn't stop you.

When you finally walked over all the kids to the crime scene, you saw two boys standing across from each other. They both looked pretty pissed and probably getting ready for fight. One had a blue hand, apparently wielding ice while the other played with fire in his palm. You recognize these trouble makers immediately. Bobby and John.

The whole school knows that these two really don't like each other. Every time they are together, they immediately start arguing and fighting. Not only do they make a mess, but they often gamble with their and others health This was not an exceptional situation.

Since Logan quickly choose Bobby, you have no one left but John. You quickly stepped in front of him, blocking his view of Bobby and Logan. “Hi John” you put your hands ahead, giving him a clear sign you're surrendering. He looked even more upset when he saw you.

"Get out of my way" he snarled and made his flames on his hands much hotter. You were scared. Of course you were scared, you have absolutely no chance against him even if you wanted to. He could just touch you and you would turn into coal and powder instantly. Despite your fear, you had to calm down and stop the situation to avoid injury. That is the main reason you are here.

"Listen buddy, I know you and Bobby have some disagreements" John moved his head around you and huffed, trying to see over you but he had no chance. That makes him even angrier. "Get out of my way or you'll get hurt!" threatening, his favorite activity. "John just calm down-" you barely started to speak when John cut you off.

"No you calm down and listen to me! I can kill you in a blink of an eye and you'd be nothing but an atom! So get the fuck out of my way or I'll kill you for real" he started charging his flames, making your pulse quicken and hands shake from the dread. The worst part of all of this was, that he was absolutely right, he could make you vanish in a snap.

But you were brave and despite how much you wanted to run away, you still tried to save it. "Yes, you could kill me easily John but trust me, that won't drive your anger away" your voice softened, trying to play on emotions this time. "But I don't want that anger go away!" you quickly sense his body language going for a flame shot. You swiftly dodged, promptly looking where the fire went, so that no one would get hurt. Luckily it flies into empty space where no one was standing, but it was still a shock for you and your body. You started breathing heavily and turned around to face Johny again, who goes for another blast.

You were about to evade again, but this time it was too late. It flies right into your face and you were ready to accept your fate. You closed your eyes when you suddenly felt large hands on your shoulders, turning you around and pulling you sideways. Everything happened so fast that you didn't even have time to recover.

Your head was spinning, people's voices started fade into a loud murmur and everything suddenly slowed down. You saw Logan asking you something and he looked pretty worried but how could you answer him when you couldn't hear his words. He kept squeezing your arms to wake you up, his concerned face was more and more intense because you weren't answering him. He knew something was wrong but how could he know what, if you didn't speak.

You just looked at him dazed, as if you had just drank 3 shots of vodka and smoked weed on top of it. The thing that woke you up was a moment Logan stopped paying attention to you but to John. He looked at him really furiously, his nostrils were big and his clenched teeth were sharp, ready to bite. The world returned to normal speed, the muttering was now clear and you could finally speak.

As Logan stuck out his claws and was about to dash after John, you stopped him. "No! Logan!" you screamed as you placed your hand on his chest, fully stopping his motion. He looked at you, a spark of hope in his eyes as he finally heard you speak. "Are you okay?" he asked again, this time was probably the 30th try. "Yeah but don't do that" you quickly nodded and changed your hand placement on his knuckles, giving him a clear sign of what you meant.

He looked down at your hand, really fighting his every urge to run towards John, but your convincing eyes got him. He retracted his claws and nodded his head, before a reassuring smile formed on your face.

"Hey kid, get lost befote I do it myself" Logan warned John in a gruff voice, who at first looked like he was going to keep fighting until he extinguished his fire out of nowhere, turned around and walked away. You and Logan looked bemused at each other, so did everybody else, but everything makes sense after Charles appeared in the circle. He looked at Bobby, didn't control his mind but just gave him a ‘get out of here’ look and he obeyed him.

It was all too much for you. You were still kind of shocked, after all you faced your own death a few minutes ago in front of young people, who would definitely be traumatized. Not only that, but they could insurgend against teachers, which could cause an unwelcome war. Maybe it wouldn't happen, maybe it's just your unstoppable overthinking but you still felt incredibly anxious.

You needed to get out of there, you needed personal space to chill out, before you break down in front of everyone.

Logan was talking to Charles, you didn't catch what he was saying but that didn't bother you. You took the opportunity of the two of them not paying attention to you and ran towards ladies toilets.

Naturally, Logan was screaming your name as he notices you, but that didn't stop you. You knew he was running after you, and no offense but he has much better condition than you, so he could catch you easily, but you still managed to get to the toilets before he did.

You breathed heavily as you leaned your hands against the sink, head dropping down and eyes tightly shut. You tried to focus on your breath, but the memory of the flame right in front of your eyes kept hitting your mind. You couldn't control it anymore and tears were streaming down your face.

Before long, Logan shows up, ambling towards you straight away. You no longer had the energy to pretend and keep smiling, you let everything out.

"Hey hey shhh it's okay" Logan reassure you, as he grabs you into a tight embrace. He was rubbing your back slowly as you were sobbing into his chest. Your make-up was probably now plastered on Logan's t-shirt, but he didn't mind.

"It's okay princess, I'm right here" he whispered, his voice calm and low, making you feel safe. "I could've died" you stammered, still crying with eyelashes stuck together. "Don't say that" he put his hand on your head, caressing your hair.

He could smell your fear and feel your heart beating like never before. He felt so sorry for you, he wanted to help you and somehow transmit your fear into him, but that wasn't possible. Even so he wanted to help you and comforting was the only option here.

"It's fine now, you're safe" he kept brushing your hair softly, making goosebombs jump on your skin from that feeling. You were much calmer now, listening to his heart while his chest moves up and down under your head, it was like a psychiatric aid to relax and it worked.

After a while, you pulled away from Logan's breast and snuffle few times. Logan cups your cheeks right away and makes you look up at him. He checks your eyes, which were still filled with tears. This view of you like this stabbed straight to his heart.

He frowned sadly and rubbed his thumbs against your face. "Please don't cry" his voice was so soft, you never heard him like this before. "Please" his plea broke your knees and you almost cried even more, but you tried to be strong and think positive. You are alive and well, you have no injuries so why do you keep want to cry?

You didn't want to admit it, but you felt like you didn't belong at this school. Your fears at the beginning, when you started working as a teacher and practically join the x-men, were strong, but over time they eased…until now.

As if John actually told you that you have no point to be here because you will never fight back. You will never be stronger than mutants. The thought broke you again. "I don't belong here" you pursed your lips to indicate that you were driving on a thin ice to starts sobbing again.

"What? What are you talking about?" Logan gave you a confused look and caresses your cheeks with more pressure. "I am not a mutant, I am just a human who was almost killed by a child" you spilled out, tears falling from your eyes. "Oh princess I though we already talked about this" he sighed, giving you a gloomy look.

"It doesn't matter you're not a mutant. Of course you belong here! You're one of us now, whether you want it or not, you're x-men" he smiled at you, his voice sincere as his praise warmed your heart.

"Today was just a small mistake, nothing a cigar or a glass of whiskey couldn't fix" you laugh at his words and the fact that he's thinking about alcohol again.

"Yeah" you sniffled and nodded, while a big smile appeared on your face. "So don't ever think about this again alright? You're smart, you're strong and you're so fucking sexy" you felt your cheeks heating up, but you couldn't hide your face since Logan still held you.

"Stop I have to look like a total mess" you nervously chuckle and shake your head, trying to free your cheeks from his grip, but obviously that didn't work out.

"Mess? Are you kidding me?" he got your attention again. You looked at him like he was a holy angel, a treasure you've been looking for all your life and you finally found it, you looked at him so submissively, that Logan's dick started twitching in his pants. You have gorgeous eyes that drive him crazy whenever you hold eye contact for more than five minutes.

He looked deep into your eyes, his voice soft but full of conviction. “You're stunning, even now, especially now. Your eyes, even when they're teary, they're still the most captivating I've ever seen. And that smile...even when you're trying to hide it, it lights up everything around you” his laud was sending straight rays between your legs but also throughout your body. Your blood was boiling in your veins and you were red as a tomato. But Logan wasn't done.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are, inside and out, even in moments like this. I'm here, and I see all of you... and I'm not going anywhere” this was the last straw to do what you've been dreaming of for so long. You break down barriers, throw aside all dignity and let your emotions take over. You quickly reach for Logan's neck and pull him right into your face, pressing your lips against his.

At first he was astounded, frozen in place with his eyes wide open. But when he absorbed the fact that you were kissing him, he immediately began to cooperate. He moved his hands from your cheeks to your hips and nimbly pulled you closer to him.

You ran your fingers through Logan's hair while he was squeezing your hips, making you whine into the kisses. Initially pliable, soft and smooth kisses where you both keep your hands at a certain area turned into rough, coarse and hungry bitting into the lips. Sad thoughs disappear in a snap when lust and need for Logan replaced them.

Both of you started groaning while keep gluing your lips against each other. You were starving for more, your hands smoothly moving from his neck to his back, ending up on his torso. Logan, on the other hand, couldn't get enough of you. The way your hands were exploring his body sends exciting waves directly into his veins on the dick.

Your body was full of thrill and anticipation, your core was throbbing and your panties were already soaking wet. Both of your hand movements were out of control, you reached out to each other wherever you could to feel the other's body and remember it well. However when Logan felt your arousal, he stopped controlling himself and he no longer thought with his brain but with his penis.

He growled loudly as the scent from your panties hit his nostrils and stopped kissing you. He was eagerly tearing off his shirt and you were helping him. A satisfied grin appeared on your face as you noticed Logan's lips being messy from your red lipstick. He didn't care, all he was focused on was getting the useless clothes off him as quickly as possible.

When you both manage to finally take off his shirt, he flashed you with his huge muscular body. The cherry on top of it all was that he was hairy, which just gave him points for attractiveness and made you even more horny.

You couldn't resist and ran your hand on his breast to the top of his pants. It was even hotter to touch. You let out an exciting gasp and Logan just giggled. "Like what you see princess?" he asked you with tease and you readily nodded your head. The image of this body fucking you on school toilets drives you wild.

You disorderly jumped at him and kissed him passionately while your hands unbuttoned his pants. Every time you've touched him his erection grew and he was eager to see your body too. That's why he didn't hesitate and grabbed your dress and lifted them up, but you stopped him.

"Not yet" you whispered with a smirk and continued unbuttoning his pants. His hands were still firmly on your hips, as his eyes curiously followed your every move. As soon as you stripped his pants off, seeing his erection begging to be free from his boxers, you gave him amused expression, before getting on your knees.

You took off the last fabric that separated you from seeing Logan in all his glory and dropped your jaw. He was fucking massive. You admired his bulging veins, his little hairs, his pink tip that was already a little wet. You could watch him all day and not get tired of him, but now you didn't have time for this.

Your mouth pooled with saliva while your pulsating was in insane speed. "Good girl" he gently grabbed your hair and waited for you to finally put him in your mouth. You didn't wait long and while you kept eye contact with Logan by looking directly up at him, you slowly lick his tip, making him shudder.

You repeated this few times because you just loved to provoke him. He was keep swearing under his breath but until you got to his limit. His grip on your hair tightened and lightly jerked your head to warn you. This time you took his signal seriously. You lick your lips and softly open your mouth. Wrapping around his tip you make him whine and struggle to keep eye contact with you. This was just the beginning.

You painfully slowly collected his length, your moans sending heavy vibration to Logan's cock, so that his growls got louder and he needed to lean against the sink with his hands. Your mouth was perfect, small and narrow, like it was made just for him. He knew he won't last long with you.

When you accomplish to take him more, your mouth was damn full. There was no way that you could fit him deep balls, so a little part was still left. Even so he was already brushing the back of your throat with his tip, desperately trying to stir up some friction.

His grip loosened as you slowly suck him, sliding your mouth on him like he was the most tasty lollipop you ever had and indeed he was. After a few motions you grab his base with your hand to help yourself a little, and started picking up the pace.

The combination of your hand and your mouth jerking him off at the same time was sending him to the edge rapidly fast. He always dreamed about this moment, you on your knees, looking at him while your mouth is full of his cock, this is just too good to be true.

Your mouth sometimes slipped off, as you try to breathe in, but you immediately pulled him back in. The wet, clammy sound began to surround the entire toilet and you both prayed that no one would come now. Logan's growl was harsher whenever his tip, already leaking with precum, touched your wet spongy throat.

After a while, you started deep-throat sucking him, moving your head as fast as your body allows. "Fuck" he throw his head back and massage your head, as you tried not to interfere him with your teeth.

He was close, his dick was twitching inside your mouth, his veins pulsating and his whining was choppy. His hips automatically thrusting into you as he tried to catch his climax already. Your eyes watery from the pressure while you felt a drop rolling from your panties.

The last few thrusts took place before Logan hissed loudly and plunged his cock deep into your mouth, making your gag reflex hit a bit but luckily, it wasn't serious. He burst into you, his seed hot and salty but also really sweet. You swallowed everything down to the last drop.

He moved into you few times, trying to catch his breath and ride out the orgasm. You allow him to do that, your lips still tightly wrapped around him, before he finally takes him out.

You admired his face, how tired and devastated it looked. God so many months and so many chances you always avoided and you could have this. His hot breath tickles your nose, as he keeps massaging your head, making you purr and leaned against his touch.

"Fuck you're amazing" he chuckled as he finally opened his eyes and looked at you. His pupils big and his eyes dark, his body full of testosterone as he tried to process the intense climax. You watched him quietly, eyes full of expectation and passion.

After Logan got some rest and regained his strength, he grabbed you and forced you to stand back on your feet. Without further ado, he pinned his lips to yours as he unzipped your dress. His movements were quick and gritty, as soon as he got his energy back he was ready for the next round.

He lost all his patience and interest in whether someone would catch you, when your dress gently fell on the floor, exposing your black sexy lace underwear. As if you knew this moment would come and prepared yourself.

Logan looked you over swiftly and grunted in excitement. "You're driving me crazy" he hissed before he aggressively started tearing off your bra and panties. All were gone in a second and you feel goosebombs creating on your skin and your body hair straightened up, as the cold fresh air touched your naked body. Logan was hungrily kissing you, fighting with your tongue and from time to time biting your already bloody lips. You really did drive him crazy.

You both breathed heavily and moaned into the kisses, as the impatience started being unbearable and you longed for much more intimate than just exploring each other's naked bodies with hands. You wanted his dick and he wanted your core, so why not finally indulge?

He turned you around and adjusted himself to enter you without any trouble. You were in front of the mirror, your lower stomach pressing into sink and you watched Logan's reflection, as he looked intently at your ass. He slapped you hard, making you whine loudly and held your hips.

After that, without further delay, he slowly started penetrate you. He was slow, enjoying the way your pussy was even tighter and wetter than your mouth but at the same time, respecting your pain.

You shut your eyes and dropped your head, despite the pain from his entering, your body automatically reacted and your ass moved backwards. Logan groans as you unintentionally pushed yourself against him, gaining more of him. He wasn't all the way in yet, but you already felt full, like there was no room for more, but he still continued and fit into you balls deep.

You let out a loud whimper as he spread your walls and throw your head back. Logan gentlemanly waited for you to get used to him, but his desire didn't allow him to wait long.

After a while, he started slowly and gradually moving his pelvis, stretching you even more. Your jaw dropped and whenever he pushed himself against you, your throat let out a sigh. Little by little he started to speed up his movements and pick up the pace as he strengthened his movements as well.

The clapping sound began to reverberate throughout the toilet and the atmosphere became stiff. Your unrelenting throbbing stopped right away, when Logan found your spongy cervix and began to hit that spot over and over again, making you seeing stars. You sighed his name while your eyes were still closed so that your brain could focus only on Logan inside you.

He noticed your eyes shut, but he needed to see them, how beautiful they shine in reflection of light and how pathetic you look at him. He grabbed your hair tightly and shook your head a little. "Open your eyes" a grunt in his voice as he was thrusting headlong into you.

You struggle a bit to open them, since your eyelids were really heavy, but somehow you manage to do it. You look at yourself, sweat forming on your forehead, boobs moving rhythmically with Logan's thrusting and you keep rolled your eyes, because the pleasure was now indescribable.

However, you weren't just curious about yourself and you had to look at Logan too, who was mercilessly hitting the right spot inside you. His teeth clenched as he looks at the part you two were connected. His face expression really focused and passionate, while he still held your hair firmly. He flicked his eyes at you in the mirror, smirking as he realized you were watching him the whole time.

He couldn't get enough of you. You were the goddess of all his desires and needs, you were the goddess of orgasm.

He lost his control in his lower body and just instinctively slapping your ass by his lower stomach. Your mind was turning off as you felt dizziness hitting. At the same time, your vision got worse and you saw nothing but blurriness, it was no longer worth keeping your eyes open.

You scream Logan's name as you start feeling the weird urge to pee, your walls clenching against him, making him closer to his edge too. You were both huffing, moaning and grinning. Your overwhelming feeling started kicking in and you slowly stopped feeling nerves in your legs.

Logan sense you are getting close, but he wanted to see your face closely when you're gonna cum. In few quick moves, he pulled out of you, turned you around, grabbed your legs and pushed into you again. Your shock from the sudden position change was immediately replaced by the urgent feeling of cumming.

Before you could warn Logan, you tense your body, trembling until you let everything out and finally release.

A chill ran down your spine when your core pulsates and Logan still hurshly thrusts into you, until he cum too, definitely in a much dramatic way than you. His groan must've been heard miles away.

He dropped his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and desperately trying to catch his breath. You also had a problem with oxygen in your lungs and your head was still spinning from that intense climax. Last time you had sex was months ago, you even forgot what it's like.

Logan chuckled as his eyes were still closed, trying to come back to his senses and you had to laugh too.

Suddenly you heard a door opening. You both snapped and turned your heads towards the sound. Of course, there was none other than Storm standing there.

At first she surprisingly didn't notice you, but it didn't take long for a shocked expression to appear on her face. "Shit I'm sorry..." she quickly grabbed the handle and closed the door, only for opening it again. "I'm sorry?!" she looked at you with huge devilish smirk with a teasing and surprised voice.

"Get out!" Logan scream at her, which was a bit mean but on the other hand, you get it. You were sharing the most intimate moment and Storm was just scanning you breathlessly.

"Fine fine…" she obediently closed the door slowly, giving you a thumbs up before closing it completely. You laugh and Logan just shakes his head. "She won't stop yapping about it" you said and Logan grunted in agreement. "She's our biggest fan" his voice was crusty and low, his wolf tone melted your heart.

Well, if Logan is going to calm your fears like this every time, then you're afraid you won't be able to ever walk again.

"Shouldn't we go back?" you asked with huge puppy eyes and Logan scoffed annoyingly. He really didn't want to leave your warm body and go back among those pesky kids.

He loved your presence and wished he could hold this moment forever. But that didn't happen and after a few minutes, you plucked up the courage. Both of you got dressed and put yourselves together, before casually walking out of the toilets like you just weren't missing for about half an hour.

You quietly walked consecutively and when you returned back to the hall, luckily, no one noticed you. "I'll go grab some whiskey" he leaned to your ear and tickles you by his voice, before smacking your ass and walking away. You gasped and incredulously shook your head with a pleasing grin.

You watched Logan slowly disappear into the crowd and let out a satisfied sigh.

The only thing you regret was that you didn't break down these barriers sooner and thus find out how damn good he is at pleasing a woman. You couldn't wait for him to show you what else this maniac can do.

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