a beautiful day in hell.

Aeson Reeves Independent original character for various verses. Verses are listed on the Verses page. FC: Ryan Reynolds (with beard ofc) *** Blog contains mature themes and NSFW content. NSFW posts are not always behind a read-more, but they're always marked for tag-blocking. ***

[coivi]

Cyrus pulled the truck onto the road and settled into an easy, steady pace, radio left off without a second thought. The quiet felt right after everything—no music competing with the low hum of the engine, no chatter needed to fill the space. This was a time to reflect on what had just happened in the last couple of hours, and how thankful he was to the timing of the storm to allow the debauchery of Aeson's virginity. At last. The road was slick in places, scattered with mud and debris, but he handled it calmly, detouring when he had to, easing around fallen branches and ruts without frustration. It wasn't a drive meant to be rushed. The grey sky pressed low, the trees blurred past, and for once his mind wasn't racing ahead to decide on what else he could do to appease his dear friend. He trusted his skills in the art of sex, and if he wasn't sure, he knew Aeson was more than delighted with the mass weaponry Cyrus was endowed with. That much, he was certain. He kept his focus forward, occasionally glancing back, just to check on Aeson, reassured by the way his body relaxed as the miles passed, the steady rise and sink of his chest as he breathed reassured him with a smile on his face.

The drive stretched on, longer than it would usually be, but Cyrus didn't mind. If anything, it gave him time to settle, shoulders loosening as the quiet did its work. He adjusted his speed when the road got rough, instinctively smooth, like he could absorb every bump himself if it meant less of it reached the back. But the truck was a smooth ride, one where you couldn't even feel a bump in the road or a sharp bend. At one point he veered off-road to get around a downed tree, tires crunching through wet earth, then guided them back onto the path like it was nothing. Only ten minutes in, and Cyrus has pulled on some blankets over the sleeping werewolf, knowing well his body-heat was more than enough, but it was a kindness he had known for the longest time—a subtle act of love and compassion.

By the time home came into view, Cyrus felt grounded in a way he hadn't earlier. He pulled into the drive and cut the engine, sitting there for a beat in the quiet that followed. Then he was moving again, at his pace, already stepping out to grab the bags before Aeson could overdo it. Watching him limp but insist anyway earned a soft snort from Cyrus as he took the weight without comment. "Yeah, yeah," he said easily, starting toward the door with hands full of bags, blankets and pieces of clothing, "Still not impressed enough to let you carry everything." With no need of a key, the doors opened to allow him entry. Cyrus made a beeline towards the laundry room, where everything had been dumped onto counter tops. This would come later. All he wished for now was a hot shower, and slip into bed, to sleep the day away. He turned to face his man, stepping towards him and draping his arms around his shoulders. "I know you've had plenty of rest but me, personally? I'm tuckered out." The gloomy weather didn't help things. "I'm going to shower and take a little siesta." Dipping his head down, he acquired his lovers lips in a quick, chaste kiss. "You joining me, or am I going solo?"

[onemaninthedark]

"C'mon, you gotta be a little impressed, right? You made it sound like I might not be standing up for a week, and look at me now." He followed the other man toward the laundry room. "Unless this is some case of sex-induced DOMS and I'll be passed out in bed tomorrow... Christ, I hope not."

When Cyrus draped his arms over him, Aeson put his hands on his upper back, rubbing his fingers along the muscles there. "Well, it is a big shower, and I'd feel pretty damn bad if you got lost in there. I've heard the walk to the bathroom is dangerous, too. No self-respecting boyfriend would let you go there alone." He grinned and returned Cyrus' kiss. Then he took the other man’s large, strong hand in his own and pulled him in the direction of the shower. It would have probably been a more graceful, romantic gesture if he wasn't still limping, but he was sure Cyrus wouldn't hold that against him. 

Aeson led them into the bathroom, across the taupe stone floor and past the long window with the view of the forest outside. There was no real need to cover it; like the cabin the night before, Cyrus' home was isolated from nearby towns and random passerby, in addition to its many enchantments. He stopped when they were near the shower to hook his thumbs under the hem of his pajama bottoms and pull them down. It wasn't much effort, as they barely sat balanced above his dick and ass anyway. Once he'd stepped out of them, he eased Cyrus' sweatshirt over his shoulders and dropped it beside them. With the other's boxer briefs, he took his time. Aeson made the admittedly stupid decision to kneel as he pulled them down over the Cyrus’ cock—his legs and ass protested the whole time, and the teasing smirk he was wearing twitched with each muscle cramp.

Once he was on the floor, he took a few deep breaths before he finished tugging his boyfriend's boxer briefs down over those massive legs. His face was now inches from that equally gigantic dick, freed of clothing, close enough that Cyrus could likely feel his warm breath against the shaft. Aeson ran his tongue over his bottom lip and looked up to meet the other man's eyes. Okay, maybe he was being a brat, making a show of things when he had no intention of sucking that dick right now. Instead he leaned forward, giving the tip a quick, almost reverent kiss before looking up again.

"You, uh... you think you could help me stand back up?" His brows furrowed. "I might've overestimated how good my legs were feeling. And don't say 'I told you so', because my ass is giving me enough of a reminder."

[cxncordia]

Of all the personalities Antonio had encountered in his short but eventful life, none compared to the stubborness of this werewolf. It was as if nothing he said or did mattered or would make a dent in Aeson's resolve. Even after having bled out on his doorsteps, he still wanted to get up and walk out. It was infuriating and yet... amusing at the same time. This Wolf was bound to get hurt and honestly, Antonio was growing curious. There must have been something wrong with him.

Having gathered the glasses, Antonio held them carefully in his hands before dumping them in the nearby trash. "You can start paying me back by leaving that foul mouth shut and just focus on healing," he smiled at him, sarcastically cheerful. Though there was no point in Aeson having a conversation with him as Antonio would simply refuse to reply back. He needed to rest. Now that the potions were taking effect, the werewolf would fall asleep soon, and he didn't want the other to argue and fight against the potion's magic. With a sigh, Antonio approached the couch Aeson was laid upon.

He let out a soft chuckle at the mention of "Venmo". He had no idea what that was, but he could guess it was some sort of modern way of paying, maybe with a smartphone. He should ask Tacho later about it. "I have no use for that, but I might have another idea on how you can repay me," he said with a suggestive smirk. Antonio then took a spare blanket from a nearby closet and gently placed it over Aeson, tucking him in with surprising tenderness. "Sleep, little wolf. I'll keep watch."

He knew he'd need to keep an eye on him through the night, and possibly the next day, to make sure the silver was fully out of his system and the wounds were closing as they should. And if those hunters returned, he'd be ready. No one messed with someone under his protection. This was a rule he lived by, and he wasn't afraid to enforce it. "Don't worry about being rude. Just focus on getting better. And for the record, I'm not going to let you leave until I say so. And I'm not going to say so until you're fully healed. So, you'd better get used to my company."

[onemaninthedark]

As Antonio had expected, Aeson went to protest over keeping his mouth shut, then thought better of it and stayed quiet. He was beginning to feel the combined effects of the potions and his own exhaustion, and there were moments where he struggled to keep his eyes open. Aeson took a few deep breaths, trying to get some extra oxygen to keep himself awake. "Y'know, if you hadn’t made those potions before I woke up, I'd almost think you added something to get me to sleep and shut up for a while."

His brows rose at the other man’s suggestive reply to his offer. "What're you—oh, I get it. Funny." With a pause, he added, "You're messing with me, right? 'cause I'm too damn tired to tell right now." He supposed Antonio was attractive, but he hadn’t had much time to think about it. His brain was still in survival mode as he tried to piece together his situation. After the Mage tucked him in, he mumbled a soft "Thanks", reluctant as he was to go back to bed so soon. "If something happens while I'm asleep and you don’t wake me up to help, though, I swear I'll be extra annoying later. If you think I'm irritating now, just imagine how bad that would be."

Aeson yawned before he could stop himself. A tingling feeling was beginning to spread throughout his body, strongest where he had been stabbed by the hunters. It was a weird sensation, but not a painful one. Some of the ache in his abdomen was even starting to ease up. His eyes were half-lidded, and a rest wasn’t sounding like a bad idea after all. "I don’t... I don't need to leave right away. Just don't... wanna be a burden..." he admitted. Seconds after he spoke, his eyes closed. His breathing became slow and rhythmic; he'd fallen asleep.

[cxncordia]

Antonio watched carefully as Aeson took the second potion and drained it in one smooth gulp. He tried not to think about the werewolf and instead focus on his task of cleaning up the mess the other made. However, he found the lack of concentration returning to that very same area. It wasn't that Aeson was a patient, oh no, his stubbornness didn't make him a fan favorite, it was that the mage had already learned a few basic truths about werewolves. One being that he was dealing with a fellow shapeshifter. Aeson may have fooled himself into thinking he was a regular human, but Antonio could tell that under the surface, the wolf just wanted to belong somewhere.

To answer his request, Antonio crossed his arms and gave him a stern look. "No. In fact, the Cry does not summon anyone, regardless of their magic. Shapeshifters and Mages coexist but that doesn't mean we have to hop whenever they signal. Most of us can handle our own problems and we find ways to contribute to the wellbeing of the forest without being their personal assistants." Toño gave a contempt smile and sat next to Aeson who looked to be not well, whether it was because the potion finally took effect or due to the tension between Mages and Shapeshifters, or maybe even the guilt of taking Antonio as a bait for his attackers, it didn't really matter. If the Call hadn't summoned him to come for the rescue, then he would not have cared or stepped on shapeshifter territory.

Watching the other, Antonio wondered if he had overestimated the werewolf's current condition and the full extent of his injuries would need him to rest after all. But a mage's gaze was unwavering and the intense stare from Antonio was baring down every single detail on Aeson's body and inspecting him of any possible complication. At least he had taken the potion, so now the worst he'd have was perhaps a bad headache and muscle pain. Yet Antonio believed he could deal with it should the need arise.

With his attention shifted solely on the wolf now, Antonio cocked his head. "Are you always this difficult or am I special? I'm only trying to take care of you, considering you were dying a few hours ago," he sighed as he adjusted Aeson's chair into a horizontal bed-like position before sitting on a nearby sofa and crossing his legs. "Rest a bit." And despite his order sounding more like a command, he could tell the werewolf was going to oppose him, so the Mage put a finger up to stop his protests before he'd started. "And whatever you are thinking consider you still owe me for those potions so back to bed you go."

[onemaninthedark]

There were a hundred other questions he wanted to ask about Mages, Shapeshifters and the Cry, but he stayed quiet and nodded along with Antonio's explanation, not wanting to come off as more naive than he already had. "Figures that a beautiful forest like this would have a hell of a lot more going on beneath the surface. From the sound of it, I'm lucky I met you instead of someone else."

Aeson examined the remnants of potions on the floor and winced apologetically. "At least let me pay you for all the bottles I broke and whatever ingredients I wasted." He reached into his back pocket only to remember that he had left his wallet and phone back in his truck, as he normally did when he wasn't seeking to be identified. "Well, I swear I'll pay you back when I've got my shit again. I'm guessing you don’t take Venmo?" Aeson wasn't sure if Antonio would even want his money when he had his wallet back. The forest's inhabitants probably weren’t making their transactions with handfuls of cash.

He looked back up at Antonio, who was currently staring him down with such intensity that Aeson actually began to feel self-conscious. "Something wrong? I didn’t manage to spill the potion all over my face this time, did I?" Though he meant the question as a joke, he wiped the back of his hand over his chin just to be sure. However, his demeanor quickly changed when Antonio adjusted the chair and ordered him to rest. His human side felt ready to argue, but the wolf—the wolf almost seemed comforted by it. Definitely not something he wanted to analyze right then, if ever. With some reluctance, he settled himself so he was fully lying down.

"I'm not trying to be difficult, I'm trying not to be difficult. The sooner I leave, the easier things'll be for you, right?" It suddenly dawned on him that, with all the trouble Antonio had taken to patch him up, acting like all he wanted to do was leave as soon as possible could come across as rude. Normally, he wouldn't have given two shits about something like that, but this man had saved his life. Aeson tapped his fingers against the arm of the chair while he thought, then released his breath in a long, slow exhale. "Sorry," he managed. "I'll, uh... I'll try to be more patient. And thanks for—for helping me out."

[coivi]

There was beauty in the way the heat radiating off of Aeson's body and the biting cold of the water had made it a somewhat pleasant and comfortable experience. Cyrus didn't necessarily dislike the cold, it was nice to feel it easing any aches and pains, but the warmth of the lycanthropes' body against his was just that more soothing. "Your pussy is cute, Ace," he corrected him, a grin plastered over his lips. "And it's so fucking delicious. Speaking of which, I don't think you'll be sitting on your ass for too long, solely because when the ache starts to seep in, you'll want nothing more than to lay down on your stomach, with your legs spread as wide as you can manage." The comment bringing back the memory of a couple of hours ago, when he fell witness to seeing how well Aeson could be contorted, folded and fucked. "I'm no doctor or... werewolf specialist, but I think in a few days, once your healing really kicks in, you'll be good to hop back on it. Besides... if my calculations are correct, you'll be coming into heat in two weeks time." Playfully, Cyrus waggled his brows, closing the distance between their bodies, arms locking around the back of his lover. "I've never fucked a werewolf in heat, but from what I've researched and been told, your senses will be heightened. If you thought my cock felt amazing today, imagine what it's going to be like when I'm throbbing deep inside of you, your tight pussy walls milking it for all its worth. And hey—we might finally be able to figure out if you can keep up with my stamina." While he was never the type to arrange sexual intercourse, it did excite him to think of the ways in which he could showcase and solidify his obvious attraction and lustful love for this man, in ways that perhaps Aeson had never experienced before. "As for fucking on top of the CN Tower... hey, if that's what you want, I'll fuck you anywhere and everywhere you want, my love. I'll fuck you right here and now if you could take me." He snickered, hands clipping at the back of Aeson's thighs to effortlessly lift him into the embrace of long, bulging arms, of corded muscle and toughened smooth skin. Cyrus drew him in, until he felt his shaft press against the creases of abdominals muscles in his stomach. At this angle, he supported Aeson with ease, showing lack of straining and poising him higher than Cyrus could stand at his grand, majestic height. Tilting his head upwards, he secured his lips to that of his companion, a searing hot kiss, lips melding perfectly together, tongues seeking its partner, a perfect synchronisation of a perfect match. As the locking of their lips commenced, Cyrus gradually began to step back towards the bank of the lake, rising up out of the water. His member, flaccid but impressive, batted from one thigh to the next with each slow step, with no visible shrinkage to be seen from the cold temperature.

Whilst lips brushed and sealed, tongues bathing in each others mouths, his feet calculated each step so as to not slip, and within a minute or two, the kiss was broken and Cyrus' hand was reaching out to the boot of the truck, to then ease Aeson down onto the edge. "Let's dry you off before you climb on in." In the back was a makeshift bed, piled up with blankets and pillows, a few pieces of clothing having carelessly thrown to the back; underwear, socks, sweatshirts. Cyrus retrieved towels, handing one to the man and using the other to dry himself as best he could. Though the day was not clear and sunny, at least the storm had passed, with only the wind and grey skies to deal with. "Get cozy, babe. It's a long drive back home," Cyrus proclaimed, reaching over Aeson to retrieve a pair of boxer-briefs, pulling them on, tucking his shaft into the ideal position; to the left of his hip. He then pulled on a baggy sweatshirt, set a kiss to his lovers lips and returned back to the desolate cabin to retrieve their belongings. Clothes, food and drink, blankets—all had been bunched into duffel bags. Cyrus made sure to leave things as he had found them, so that the original owners had no idea anyone had used their getaway home to sleep and consummate their love for each other for the very first time.

Returning to the car, he dumped the bags into the backseat, closed up the cabin and returned to the back to close it up, once Aeson was ready to set off. "You good to go, baby?"

[onemaninthedark]

Cyrus' words echoed again and again in his mind. Heat. Two weeks. Before he met Cyrus, he had hated that time of his "cycle"—hell, there hadn’t been a time he did like—but having a committed boyfriend had made things a little more tolerable. Unfortunately, up until now, they'd been limited to blowjobs and Cyrus eating him out. Maybe a finger or two. Amazing, sure, but it wasn't what the wolf was really aching for. What it truly wanted was what Cyrus was describing right then, and as if to prove it, his cock gave a large twitch against the other man’s leg. "You're going to keep calling it a pussy no matter what I say, aren't you?" he asked. "I guess I'll allow it if you keep making the rest of the sentence so hot." Aeson didn’t think he needed to verbally express the rest of his opinion on Cyrus' suggestions. His dick's reaction, and the now visible fog of his warm breath in the cool air, said enough. "I'm fine, really. No skyscrapers needed. Just the fucking's plenty for me right now."

He had to admit, when Cyrus lifted him back up, that his lover knew what he was doing. The kiss took most of the sting out of needing to be carried again; he could distract himself with the brush of velvet-soft lips against his own and the intertwining of their tongues. An appreciative sigh rumbled out from somewhere deep within his chest. Aeson continued to return Cyrus' kiss until he found himself sitting on the edge of the truck, wincing as his sore ass came into contact with the hard surface. As he dried himself off with the towel he'd been given, he said, "I appreciate all the effort, but I don’t mind riding up front with you next time. Not that we're guaranteed to be fucking in another abandoned cabin, but hey, you never know." While Cyrus retrieved the rest of their belongings, Aeson rummaged through the nearby pile of clothes. He ended up pulling on a pair of old pajama bottoms that his lover seemed to particularly enjoy for reasons Aeson himself didn’t fully understand. When Cyrus returned, he nodded. "Good to go. Sorry I wasn’t more help with carrying our shit... well, wasn't any help, really."

The deep ache in his legs that had prevented him from helping began to ease up while they drove back home. It took them longer than usual with all the mud and fallen branches on the roads, but Cyrus managed, even off-roading around an entire tree the storm had knocked down. Aeson somehow slept through it all—partly because he was still tired, but also because his enhanced healing worked that much better with the extra rest. By the time they reached home, he had more strength back in his legs. His ass hadn’t improved as quickly, but then again, his legs were used to exercise. His insides, not so much.

Once the truck pulled to a stop, Aeson scooted himself out of the improvised bed and got out of the truck. He went to grab two of the duffel bags, limping and wincing as he walked. Still, he wanted to show his boyfriend how much he'd already recovered, and did his best to keep the soreness from showing on his face. After pulling a duffel bag onto each shoulder, he said with a half-smile, "See, I'm doing better already. In a couple hours, I bet you’ll be more tired than I am." Wishful thinking, but hey—maybe he was "manifesting", as the kids liked to say.

[onemaninthedark]

drop this sunflower🌻 into the inboxes of the blogs that make you happy ! lets spread a little sunshine☀️

okay but honestly thank you for putting up with me for like... at least six years? i don't even know rn but i can definitely say that seeing you online is always a lovely thing

[cxncordia]

Antonio could not help but chuckle at the shitty pun. It was bad but also kind of endearing coming from someone who was just injured and in recovery. When he saw how exhausted the werewolf was, Antonio shook his head and responded, "I'm sorry, mi hombre, but you don't look like you'll be ready to leave for at least a few days. I need you to relax and recover. If the people who did this come back, I want you to be able to at least defend yourself and run away if need be." Antonio took one of the glasses and held it up to Aeson's lips. "Drink, please, before you get worse. You don't seem like you're one to listen to others anyway. At least your stubbornness can save your life this time."

The potions had been tossed and there were some brews spilled on the floor while others remained practically unharmed. While he did felt bad about the lost time making them, which Antonio now had to invest again, he simply shook his head. "Worry not. I can make another batch, though I'd make sure to have them on a sippy cup just for you, Aeson." After having helped the other, Antonio went for a mop and made sure to clean the glass shards and the potion contents that were spilled. And saving whatever he could, placing it far away from the distressed werewolf.

Antonio then sat on the chair next to Aeson, listening to his explanation. While he took note that the other wolf was not a native, he knew that the wolves were trying to expand and settle down in new lands. Silver was also a problem since not everyone knew how to defend themselves against such a dangerous material. It made sense that the wolves would be out looking for alternatives. "You have no experience with The Cry, huh? Well, the Cry is basically a distress call that forest spirits emit when they are in trouble or they need something. In a nutshell, I'm guessing your little party got lost, got hurt or even had an emergency to deal with. Your wolf ears and senses probably picked up the signal and were summoned." Antonio explained as the werewolf drank his potions.

"Since the Cry attracts both shapeshifters and Mages to a specific place, you were already expected, though most stay away from the place after getting their help." The mage closed his eyes and leaned back on his chair as he thought about this particular phenomenon. One that summoned him after the death of his last boyfriend, and kept haunting him while he tried not to think about his responsibilities. Maybe he should go check the creek once this werewolf is back on his feet. Antonio didn't really have to rest, since he wasn't harmed at all, however, it was better to make sure the wolf truly recovered or was at least able to protect himself.

[onemaninthedark]

It was moments after he'd swallowed the first potion that his vision went dark from weakness. When he put his hand out by reflex to steady himself, he didn’t need his enhanced hearing to make out the sound of multiple glass bottles shattering on the floor. "Shit." As his vision returned, Aeson could see the mess he'd made. Liquids of various colors and smells were leaking across the ground, and though he forced himself to his feet, he wasn't sure how he could help. "You don’t have to remake them. I already drank the first one, and that's usually the most important, right? But if you're gonna brew up some more, at least let me help."

He sat back down while Antonio continued, not sure if the wave of nausea that passed through him was from pain or disgust with his own mistake. After a moment mulling over the information, he asked, "So, they're asking for my help? Not sure where these forest spirits get off, thinking I'm going to stop whatever I'm doing and come running over to lend them a hand... They'd be better off summoning an arborist. Hell, a part-time volunteer from the nearest community garden would be better with a forest than me."

Aeson looked down at the bandages covering his torso, then back up at Antonio. "You let me know if you need any help, though. I seriously owe you one. And don't worry about me, I'm pretty damn sure the people who did this think I'm dead. That's what I'd be thinking if I were them, anyway." Still, he didn’t like the idea of the other hunters coming back. Putting Antonio in danger sounded like a terrible fucking way to repay a favor. Aeson mentally reminded himself to leave as soon as he could walk himself out the door, before the hunters had any chance of finding his fellow shapeshifter. Searching for a change of subject, he asked, "Is the Cry why you're living here in the woods? The spirits needed some long-term help from you?"

[coivi]

Wading into the cool water of the still lake, he sought comfort and heat from his lovers body, in the way of those arms curling around his broad shoulders and Aeson's body-heat being much warmer than his own. "Good, I'm happy I didn't hurt you too much in order for you to hate me," he beamed, grinning, somewhat proud that the claim he had made for months about ensuring Aeson's pleasure and comfort had come to fruition, despite the tool having brought tinges of pain along the way. It was part of the package deal, Cyrus thought. Amidst the sweet embrace of hands to his face, and of soft lips against his own, the warlock get out a grumble of content. It had been such a long time since he had first displayed his attraction to his beloved, and whilst he had been serviced many, many times by him, at times to a point where Aeson was physically gagging, choking and crying over it, this moment right here was all he needed and wanted; to have pleasured his boyfriend, made him realise Cyrus' intent and gentle hand, his will and desire to make him feel good. Not now, of course, where he would need time and rest in order to heal himself up properly. "Thank you, baby... I'm glad you let me in." And from the moans, whimpers and pleas he had heard the night prior, he could only assume Aeson had enjoyed every second of it, despite the burning ache and pain. "Still, for a man who has never had anything up his ass, you were tremendous." He hummed low, wincing when he felt Aeson supply him with a mark across the swell of his muscled shoulder. Cyrus would wear it proudly. Even now, Cyrus could feel the pressure around his shaft, those constricting walls tight and milking his cock; he couldn't quite remember a time when he ejaculated so quickly. Usually, it took a fair while and a lot of stimulation to get him going.

"Well..." he cleared his throat, his hands passing along the muscled plains of Aeson's back, not daring to provoke any discomfort by fondling that sweet, curved rump. "Whilst I have indeed fucked a lot of beings in my time, it's all going to depend on how fast your healing ability is. You could be fine by tomorrow, or this evening. Or, it could take an entire week until you're a hundred percent. But it's alright, I don't mind waiting. Your pussy was worth it, Ace." He chuckled, lips skimming across his lovers faintly. "I did tell you, months and months ago, that you would enjoy taking my dick. I'd like to think I was pretty attentive to what my man needed at the time. I know how to take care of my man." Whether it meant to slow down, speed up, change the pace and rhythm, halting the depth of his thrusts. Regular check-ins to make sure Aeson was feeling alright, followed by constant awareness to take note of his facial expressions, and how his body responded to what he was doing. "And now that you know you like having my cock inside of you... now the real fun can begin." Experimenting with positions and locations. One hand came down, the tips of his fingers grazed that wrecked, sensitive hole between the rounded, pert cheeks. Slowly, with a mighty gentle hand. A smirk etched at his lips when he noted how tight the entrance had returned to. The very notion that Aeson still carried his seed inside of him had his cock twitch beneath the water. "Mmm," he moaned out, the sound booming from deep within his chest. "Hey... when we get back home, I'll treat you to a nice hot, bubble bath. I'll prep us some lunch, and then we can just nap the day away. And if you want... I could... maybe eat you out. Help shed some of that ache away while you rest." Cyrus pecked at his lips. "What do you think, baby? Would you like to go home?"

[onemaninthedark]

For a moment, he didn't try to hide his need for support, instead draping his arms over Cyrus' shoulders and letting himself hang off the other man. He rested his cheek next to the mark he'd just left on his boyfriend's skin, admiring it. Between that mark and the ones on his own body, it was clear they belonged to each other, and there was no one he would've rather been standing in that lake with than the man beside him. Then Aeson lifted his head, feeling the soft tingle of Cyrus' lips against his own.

"I appreciate that, but…" He looked down, asking, "D-d'you have to call my hole a pussy? It sounds so… cute, the way you say it." Though he squirmed a bit in the other man's embrace, looking for some space to process everything, he managed to admit, "Okay, yeah, you were right. I thought you were kidding yourself back then, but I really did enjoy it. Which is partly why I'm hoping it doesn't take me an entire week to heal. That and because I hate sitting on my ass for too long."

He shivered in Cyrus' arms as his lover’s finger grazed the outside of his hole. It was still sensitive enough from the night before that it felt like a spark of electricity had run through his body—not to mention that he still had Cyrus' cum deep inside him. A few low groans and soft whines escaped him before he could stop them. If it were up to his dick, he could've gone for another round within the next hour, but his ass was nowhere near ready. "The real fun?" he asked. "You mean trying to top what we did last night? Now you've got me worried… you're not gonna be installing gymnastics rings in the bedroom, are you? Or buying tickets for us to fuck at the top of the CN Tower in Toronto?"

In spite of how ridiculous his suggestions probably were, Aeson caught himself rubbing his dick against Cyrus' thigh. Truthfully, he did want to get fucked again, and he hoped it'd be sooner rather than later. "I don't think I'll be doing much resting if you're eating me out, but yeah, I like that plan. Let's head out." After Cyrus kissed him, he looked down at himself and sighed. "Fuck. You're going to have to carry me to get to the car, aren't you?"

[cxncordia]

As Antonio listened to Aeson's soft voice travel through the open doorways, he quietly set down the pitcher of water he'd been filling from the sink. He'd initially been concerned when the fellow wolf started calling out and was about to reveal himself to make sure Aeson was alright before spotting him exiting the bedroom. His stomach had been wounded and it was a wonder Aeson could even speak. "I'm no bear, but for the right guy I might be," responded with a large smirk on his face as he leaned over the frame door, glancing at Aeson in all his shirtless glory. It was easy to tell the wolf was physically fit from the well-defined muscles but Antonio's eyes lingered on the scars adorning his body. How did a werewolf get scars? Didn't they were able to heal their flesh instantly?

Antonio then walked over to the other. This has not been the first time he ran into shapeshifters and probably, would not be the last. These forests were meant to be their territory and he understood that he was trespassing. Still, having heard the cry of the forest spirit and the need for help, he could not just stay simply stand by and let someone bleed out in the middle of the forest. Especially not if they where like him, a Mage. The werewolves he knew were war machines, ready to shed and fight at any moment, devoid of the Magic that he and the Verbena possessed. Besides, he didn't find the wolf's approach to be threatening, unless one would count him looking rather sexy being a threat. "If you're up for it, you can settle in the main hall and take a seat," Antonio gestured to the place in question with his thumb. "You can make use of the bathroom over there or just rest back on the bed if you wish, I don't mind and I only insist that you rest while you can," explained the mage as he glanced at the still healing injury.

"You're here for the Cry, right? You heard it?" Antonio asked the other as he turned to gather a few potions he had left cooling overnight, ones that would properly heal the injuries that should support Aeson on getting nourished back to health. Once back he offered them to the werewolf. "Silver in your system, yes? That'll kill you if we don't fix it, drink these," commanded the Latin mage, though his voice was no longer hard. That much of an alpha he was not, and Antonio didn't bother ordering him around further than was needed.

[onemaninthedark]

Aeson wasn't sure what he'd expected from his savior's appearance, but it hadn't been the young man who stood before him now, with the looks of an actor and the smell of a fellow wolf. In spite of his wariness, he cracked his own smirk at the other's joke. "Is that why you're out here? Little too freaky around the right guy for the locals?" As soon as he finished speaking, he winced, moving a hand to his stomach. Antonio's thoughts were correct; it did hurt to talk. He just wasn't good at shutting up.

"Thanks," Aeson said, glancing in the direction of the main hall. "You don't have to worry about me, though. I'll try and get out of your hair as soon as I can. Or get out of your fur, if you're a fan of shitty puns." He shuffled over to the nearest chair and sat down, breathing hard from the effort. As he lifted his hand to wipe a few beads of sweat from his forehead, he hoped the other werewolf hadn't noticed how weak he still was.

"The Cry?" Truthfully, he had no idea whether he'd heard it or not. Besides having only been turned a year ago, he was purposely, hopelessly out of touch with his wolf side—but he didn’t want to admit that to a near stranger. "Yeah, that's what I'm here for. Can't say I'm familiar with the specifics of how it works around here, though."

He took the first of the potions Antonio offered him and examined it. It didn’t smell pleasant, but better than dying from silver poisoning, he supposed. Before he drank it, he added, "I'm Aeson, by the way. Figured you should at least know the name of the guy who's currently being a pain in your ass. Well, here goes." Aeson knocked back each potion, shuddering once he was done. "Is it supposed to feel tingly, or am I about to pass out again?"

[onemaninthedark]

@cxncordia:

Aeson had a habit of nearly getting himself killed a lot more often than the average person. It came both with the job of being a hunter and with having been turned into a werewolf. So before he'd passed out, blood seeping out from under the hand he had pressed to his abdomen, he had given himself a good fifty-fifty chance of waking up again. Maybe seventy-thirty, in favor of dying, since he was on a dirt road between two towns with no hospital in sight. And if the friends of the hunter he'd just killed came to find him? That was a near one-hundred-percent chance of ending up dead, as Aeson didn't think they'd care their friend had attacked him first. Adding in that the attack was with a silver knife, and that they likely had their own silver knives with them to finish the job…

"Scratch the fifty-fifty," Aeson had thought, darkness spreading across his vision. "I'm pretty much dead."

And with that, he passed out.

Then he woke up.

He didn't know exactly how long it had been since he'd lost consciousness, but he did know the attack had been at night, and now he was blinking back rays of sunlight. The immense pain he had been in before had calmed down to a dull burn. Aeson pushed back the sheets—he was in a bed now, too—to find that the gashes across his stomach had clotted up and were already showing signs of healing. Strange, as being a werewolf, the silver in the knife should have prevented the wounds from closing. They also didn't look like they'd been stitched up like they would have been were he taken to a hospital.

When he looked up from his injuries, he could plainly see he hadn't been taken to a hospital. The room seemed more like a cottage than a clinic: warm, inviting, devoid of the chemical smell of sanitizer. Through the window, he could see trees going back in all directions. He wasn't sure if they were part of a small grove or a large forest, but it was definitely some kind of woodland area. Now that he thought about it, that dirt road he had collapsed on hadn't been too far from the woods.

Determined to continue his investigation, he sat up. This made him wince; the gashes across his abdomen were still tender. Aeson chose to ignore it and slid out of bed. He was relieved to see that whoever had taken his shirt off to tend to his injuries had decided to leave his pants on, as he felt weird enough as it was, waking up in a room he'd never been in before with his wounds treated by someone he hadn't seen. After he managed to stand, he shuffled across the room and opened the door.

"Anyone home?" he called out, glancing around the empty hallway. In a softer voice, he added, "I'm no Goldilocks, so I'm gonna assume someone other than a family of anthropomorphic bears lives in this cottage..."

[onemaninthedark]

Apparently I've been so inactive (I know, me, can you believe it?) that tumblr might've deleted some of my reblog notifications before I saw them. So, if you're waiting for me to reply to anything, please let me know! <3

[coivi]

The cabin was steeped in the remnants of the night before—humid, heavy with the scent of sweat, musk, and sex. The dim morning light seeped through the crack in dark drapes, casting the living space in a muddy hue. The occasional gust of wind rattled the window panes, the storm was settling. The fire had long since burned down to embers, leaving only the faintest glow of heat in its wake, barely enough to warm the room, let alone their bare skin. Yet, Cyrus didn't seem to notice the chill, and that was probably due to his beloved core temperature keeping him nice and toasty for the entire duration of his slumber. Their bodies, still damp from exertion, remained flush with warmth, skin pressed to skin, breath mingling in the close, intimate space between them. The sheets beneath them were damp, tangled, and utterly ruined, a testament to what they had done—to what Cyrus had done to Aeson.

He could see the aftermath of it in the way his lover moved—or rather, in the way he couldn't move. Cyrus watched, fascinated, as Aeson struggled to rise, his thighs trembling with the effort, failing him, his muscles quaking under the weight of his own body. He had known—known—that his werewolf would be sore and weakened, but seeing it firsthand sent a fresh wave of satisfaction curling through him. His poor, exhausted mate. His love. A night ago, he had taken him for the first time, stretched him open, filled him to the brim, claimed him in ways neither of them could ever take back. After many years and months of coaxing, it had finally happened. And now? Now, Aeson couldn't even lift himself to his knees without his body betraying him, his strength drained, his legs utterly useless from the sheer force of what they had done.

Cyrus didn't intervene at first. No, he let him try. Let him push himself up, let him feel every ache, every throb, every ghost of pleasure and pain still lingering in his battered muscles. And then, just as expected, Aeson's body gave out entirely. His legs buckled, and he collapsed forward, straight into Cyrus' waiting arms. The impact was soft, his weight pressing firmly against the broad expanse of Cyrus' bare chest, his cheek flush against warm, sweat-slick skin of his pecs. Instinctively, Cyrus' arms came up to catch him, one wrapping tight around Aeson's waist, the other sliding down the length of his spine, fingers splaying at the small of his back. He could feel Aeson's breath stagger, his body still shaking slightly from the strain, from the soreness no doubt settling deep into his nerves.

Cyrus exhaled a slow, indulgent breath, pressing his lips into the crown of Aeson's tousled dark hair, the taste of salt and skin lingering on his tongue. His fingers traced idle patterns along the dip of Aeson's spine, following the path of his own previous grip marks from the night prior, where his hands had held him steady, pinned him down, owned him, held him. His touch was gentle now, though, soothing rather than demanding, as he took in the beautiful wreckage of his lover. "Oh, babe," he murmured, voice rich with amusement and something deeper, something almost tender beneath the smug satisfaction. "I don't think a spell's gonna fix what I did to you." A soft snicker came before he could stop it. "And, I don't want to. I want you to sit with it."

Aeson seemed to say nothing at first, only burrowed deeper against him, as if hiding his face in the warmth of his chest could somehow shield him from the obvious truth of his predicament. Cyrus smirked, but he didn't press—at least, not yet. Instead, he let his palm drift lower, trailing over the curve of Aeson's sculpted ass, feeling the way the muscle twitched under his touch, sore and sensitive. He gave it the lightest squeeze, enjoying the way Aeson's body instinctively tensed in response. "Damn," he mused, voice dropping into something slower, lazier. "I hope I haven't traumatised you from wanting to try my dick again." The sheer notion of it—the proof of what they had done, of what he had done to once-prideful man—sent a rush of possessive pride coursing through him, something he seldom felt. He had wrecked Aeson in the best possible way, had left him marked, ruined, full, and thoroughly his. "You can't say I didn't try to warn you, but I have to admit, you did a whole lot better than I thought you would."

He heard Aeson groan, something between desperation and frustration turning into acceptance, and Cyrus chuckled, low and deep, fingers tightening just slightly where they rested against his lover's waist. "Alright, alright," he relented, shifting just enough to brace Aeson more securely against him. "Let's get you up before you fall asleep against my tits." He paused, grinning against the top of Aeson's head. "Not that I'd mind. But I don't think your pride could take much more, hm?"

Cyrus rose to his full height with effortless grace, cradling Aeson against his chest as if he weighed nothing. His arms held firm, one beneath the curve of his lover's thighs, the other bracing his back, keeping him pressed flush against his bare torso. He stepped away from their place of rest and pleasure, the cabin door creaked as he nudged it open with his shoulder, revealing the aftermath of the storm. It took a few seconds for his vision to adjust to the bright morning. The earth was damp, thick with the scent of rain and pine, the ground littered with wet leaves that clung to the soles of his feet as he strode forward, flaccid length batting between his thighs. With every step, the cold bit at his skin, but the warmth of Aeson in his arms was enough to keep him grounded, the steady weight of his spent body a reminder of the night they had shared together, and what a beautiful night it had been. As they reached the worn stone steps leading down to the lake, Cyrus moved carefully, his grip tightening just slightly, ensuring Aeson remained secure against him. The rocks were slick beneath his feet, smoothed by years of water and wind, but he never faltered, never hesitated. And then, finally, they reached the lake's edge—a vast expanse of still water, untouched by the chaos of the storm, its surface like glass reflecting the gray sky above. Without a word, without breaking his stride, Cyrus waded in, the icy water rising up his calves, then his thighs, until finally, he was waist-deep, shuddering when his nether region was hit with the frigid temperature, though still, no such sign of shrinkage. He held Aeson just above the surface, watching as the rush of water splashed against his lover's already fevered skin. Cyrus dipped his head, brushing his lips against the sensitive shell of his lover's ear, voice a low murmur meant only for him, slowly beginning to untangle him so he could try to stand upright, where he could use Cyrus' body as a natural support to lean on if he so desired. "One step at a time, baby," he coaxed, steady and sure. "I got you."

And he did. He always would.

[onemaninthedark]

As determined as he had been to stay sulking between Cyrus' pecs, his boyfriend's gentle touch began to soften the blow of falling over. Aeson released a heavy sigh against the other man's skin. Of course, the groan he made when Cyrus touched his ass proved it would be more than a few days before he was ready for another go. The more conscious he became, the more that deep soreness settled into his body, until Cyrus' grip on his waist was the only thing keeping him from lying back on the mattress. His lover seemed to read his mind when he suggested they get going before he fell back asleep.

When Aeson realized he was being picked up, he immediately reached out to cling onto Cyrus. As a muscular, six-foot-two grown man, he wasn't carried often. Or at all, except by a few EMTs the last time he really fucked things up. He couldn't help the way his eyes widened and his body went tense in the other man's arms. "Whatever you do, don't drop me on my ass," he said. "Even if you have to flip me over so I crack my skull instead. I don't think my hole can take another pounding from you or the ground right now."

Cyrus' steps remained steady, arms holding him close without trembling once. Aeson allowed his body to go slack and focused on burying his face back against his lover’s skin. He was thankful they were in the middle of nowhere, where no one but Cyrus could see how wrecked he was, how his thighs quivered every few steps and his hole was still clenched tight like some kind of defense mechanism. His enhanced sense of smell took in the wet dew, the pine, the dirt beneath them, but none of it could overpower the leftover musk and pheromones from the night before. The sounds of the wind blowing through the trees and the stream running into the nearby lake didn't compare to the rhythm of Cyrus' heartbeat.

He barely shivered when the water touched him—another perk of being a werewolf. Feeling his boyfriend shudder at the cold, he couldn’t hold back a smirk. At least his body heat gave him some small advantage while the rest of him was still useless. The smirk vanished as soon as he was set back on his feet, his muscles instantly starting to twitch like they were going to give way again. "I know," Aeson whispered back. And it was a good thing Cyrus had him, because he had to sling both arms over the other man's shoulders to keep himself upright. At first his legs splayed out like an overgrown fawn, but he was eventually able to keep himself standing, with some help from both the water and Cyrus' steady form. Aeson stayed there for a moment with his eyes closed as he took in the contrast between the coolness of the water and the warmth of his lover at his side. Then he reached one arm into the lake, hand cupped, and splashed the water onto his face and through his sweat-soaked hair.

"Fuck, that's nice," he said, letting out a long, slow breath. "Guess I should amswer what you were wondering before, huh? If you traumatized me too much?" He leaned against Cyrus' front so he could take his head in his hands and plant a soft, but firm, kiss on his boyfriend's lips. "No, you didn't. Not this time, anyway." As if to prove it, he kissed him on the lips again. Then he began trailing kisses along Cyrus' cheek, his jaw, and down his neck.

When he reached those hard, muscular traps, he locked his mouth onto the muscle and began to suck. He was clearly on a mission because he didn't stop until he'd left a nice red oval on Cyrus' tanned skin. Aeson pulled back with the hint of a grin on his face. "There. Now you can have at least one bruise to match all of mine." He nodded down to his own hips, which bore a near-perfect pattern of bruises in the shape of where Cyrus' fingers had gripped him last night. There were probably others, including a bite mark on his forearm from when he'd tried to muffle his grunts every time the other man got close to getting too deep. Damn—he still couldn't believe Cyrus had fucked him in three different positions last night. The man was nothing if not thorough.

"So… you gonna break the bad news to me? How long before I'm walking again? I'm pretty damn sure you've wrecked enough people to know." Aeson frowned and said, "Christ, I hope it's not so long that we end up stuck in some constant cycle of fucking, waiting for me to heal, then fucking again… I do like getting outside sometimes. And standing without any help. I definitely like that one." With a sigh, he admitted, "But I guess it's obvious from last night that I like fucking, too. Honestly, I wasn't sure that I would, but you proved me wrong." Of course, he'd already known he liked "fucking"—it was "getting fucked" that he hadn't been sure about. Yet he couldn't quite bring himself to say it that way: that Cyrus had fucked him, claimed him, reduced him to a moaning, whimpering mess who'd beg for more if the other man had inexplicably decided to stop. After all, he still had a little pride left, in spite of the beating it was taking this morning.

[coivi]

Cyrus let out a soft whine at Aeson's refusal to try and slam out a second round. Albeit, after the events of last night, he wasn't at all surprised. As someone that had never experienced man-on-man action before, the warlock was extremely impressed and shocked at how well his beloved was during the entire ordeal. He could only now imagine how more exhilarating it would be when his heat came. Especially given the circumstances; a virgin passage and a mighty long, thickened cock: he was perplexed at how during their slumber, Aeson made no attempt to remove himself away from being plugged up, even after all those long hours and various positions Cyrus had contorted him into. "You were fuckin' amazing, Ace. Trust me when I say this... but... your ass?" He pulled on his best impersonation of how he truly felt; a drooling and hungry mess, with a ravenous and unyielding hunger. "Spectacular. Definitely worth the wait." Not to mention the view he had of him from the warm glow of the fireplace, which was now just a pile of cinders that still provided some warmth to them, despite the storm having subsided for now, though it was still fairly windy. The shallow, lazy thrusts of his flaccid length proved to be working. The whimpers of last night echoed softly once again at his ears, the moans and the way the werewolf latched himself onto him, draping his entire body like an animal would to spread his scent. Cyrus feared if this continued for a few more minutes, his urges would lead him to try and tempt his lover into one last quickie before they departed back to his home. From past experiences and knowing the beast of a length he swung between his legs, he understood that if he tried, it would ruin the beauty that was Aeson's Deflowering. "Of course we can, babe. There's a lake nearby, we can take a little dip in there before we go back home." Cyrus gazed back into his eyes, bringing a hand up to his chin, thumb running across those plumped, pink lips. Even now, he was reminded how far they had stretched to accommodate him, how they rolled back and forth on his fat slab of dripping meat. "You're so beautiful, you know that?" He beamed down at him, hand securing now into that sore jaw gingerly to lure him into a sweet, deep press of their lips. During, he rose up into a sitting position, arms aiding Aeson's legs to coil around his waist, all while he remained inside of him. The kiss broke and as it did, the larger man steadily and carefully set Aeson to lay back, granting Cyrus the most perfect view of his man. His. He still couldn't quite fathom that only years ago, Aeson was nothing more than a friend, who had no sexual interest in him. But now, here he was. Sprawled out, fucked out. As beautiful and sculpted as the first day he had met him.

A hand sweeps across his stomach, offering a gentle graze and massage to aching muscles. Cyrus says nothing, but merely watched with a genuine, happy smile on his face. His path lead him down, petting over his navel, between the base of his cock and his bellybutton, where he could feel the bulge of his cockhead buried deep within him. "Wow... fuck." He murmured under his breath, caught off-guard. He did his best to neglect that growing length laid across Aeson's hip and instead, a hand came down between them, grasping at his chubby, lengthy road at its base. With a light pull, Cyrus very slowly and achingly unsheathed himself from his partner. There was a deep grunt and a wince that followed. At last, he felt just how sensitive his cock had become since being housed in the silky, tight walls of Aeson's delicious puckered hole. The sensation was familiar to him, but it didn't mean it wasn't any less overwhelming. It took him a moment to partially close his eyes and breathe out through his mouth, but he made every attempt to look down at Aeson, just so he knew just how fucking incredible he had made him feel.

What made it all the more memorable was witnessing that pink cunt tightening back up, sealing all of his cum in him, only allowing a small trickle of it to seep out onto the sheets that had already been met with sweat, cum and saliva. While he waited for a minute or two to allow his member to get used to the warm morning air, he proceeded to lightly bat it down onto Aeson's flesh, filling the silent room with the sounds of wet slick striking down at him, a subtle sign of Cyrus claiming his mark and his rightful possession.

[onemaninthedark]

Aeson chuckled at Cyrus' impression. "Guess we've got a lot to catch up on, then. My poor, sore ass has no idea what it's in for." For a moment, he wondered if that was going to include another round of fucking before they got out of bed. In spite of how quickly he was growing hard again, he didn't think his hole could handle a second time so soon after the first. But he trusted Cyrus, and he wasn't surprised when the other man agreed to his request. "Sounds nice," he said. With his natural body heat, a cold lake wasn't that different from a swimming pool.

Once again, when Cyrus called him beautiful, Aeson went to lower his head and look away—or he would have, if it weren't for the fingers under his chin and the thumb swiping across his lip. Now he noticed the ache in his jaw, which had been drowned out before by all the sensations coming from his lower half. "I know I look good enough to get a guy like you, and that's more'n enough for me." As they kissed, he felt Cyrus grab his legs and pull them up around his waist. Aeson clung on as best as he could while he found himself pulled up, then rolled to lie on his back on the mattress. He knew Cyrus was being careful, but every small shift of the cock inside him would set off another round of whimpers and moans. By the time he was laid down, his muscles were trembling and he was panting for more air.

Then came Cyrus' hand running up his stomach. His eyes widened the moment he felt his boyfriend's touch find the end of the cock inside him. "That's you?" he whispered. Aeson had already been feeling raw, exposed, but this pushed him to a a different level. His mind went blank while the other man pulled out of him, not even registering the empty ache his hole now provided. He could see the pleasure on his partner's face, gave him a genuine smile in return, but he was also fighting the urge to hide his tenderness behind a stupid joke. A soft red line spread across the skin Cyrus was batting with his dick and he wondered what his lover now thought of him. If Cyrus still respected his abilities or if he was now a sensitive, vulnerable being in need of constant protection.

After giving the other man time to stake his claim, he eased himself up into a sitting position and immediately ground his teeth together. Fuck, was his ass sore, but he already knew that. It was more of a surprise when he went to get onto his knees and his thighs started to quiver. Aeson decided to push himself, though, and prepared to stand. The effort didn't last long. His legs gave out before he could lift himself up and he fell forward into Cyrus' strong chest. And there he was, cum still inside him, unable to walk, with his head nestled between his boyfriend's massive pectorals.

"Unless you've got a spell," he began, voice slightly muffled by Cyrus' boobs chest muscles, "I…I might need a little help. Just to get to my feet." His face was burning, and he was too embarrassed by the idea of his legs giving out again to look up at the other man.

[onemaninthedark]

@coivi --- continued from here

He hadn't slept that well since childhood. Even the anesthesia-induced sleep he'd enjoyed several years ago while having a bullet removed from his right butt cheek hadn't felt so restful. Uninterrupted by dreaming, he had lied on top of Cyrus like a rock, a complete dead weight draped over his partner. Aeson could have gone on sleeping like that much longer, his semiconscious weight keeping the other man trapped in place, but a strange sensation was starting to register in the dark. At first his brows furrowed as his brain tried to drag itself out of the deepest levels of sleep. A second later and his eyes popped open, his fingers digging into Cyrus' back as he grunted, "Fuck", through clenched teeth. His hole felt like it was stretched further than ever, and when he tried to move, a pair of strong hands held him in place.

"G-g'mornin'?" His voice was hoarse and his gaze wandered around as he came back to reality. "Shit, babe, feels like you're still—oh—" He moaned and shifted his ass against Cyrus' grip. His prostate was still recovering from the night before, and the pressure of the other man’s cock against it had him whimpering as he buried his head back into the crook of Cyrus' neck. Those slow, deep breaths from a moment ago became shallow and quick while he tried to reaccustom himself to the sensation of his boyfriend's enormous dick stuffed inside him. His lower abdomen felt heavy, and he realized that he hadn't yet relieved himself of the load Cyrus shot into him last night, either. Christ, none of his former lovers had made him feel so… owned. Aeson could swear he felt he Cyrus' balls pressed against his ass.

Wait, he did feel Cyrus' balls pressed against his ass. And by the fact that he wasn't sobbing in pain, he concluded that his boyfriend's length was still limp. That he could just about handle, but even semihard and he'd be shoving at Cyrus to get free. He moved his hands to Cyrus' biceps and looked into his boyfriend's eyes. "Incredible as last night was, I don't think I'm ready for a round two yet," he said. "I mean, I'm thrilled that we've discovered the hidden treasure that is my prostate, but you don't rub the genie's lamp raw as soon as you find it, right?" Aeson winced, possibly out of discomfort, possibly from how bad the joke was.

Then the stimulation from his insides took over and he returned to lowering his head and digging his nails into Cyrus' back. With a few soft whines, he bucked his hips as much as he could against the other man's hands. Every movement of his lower body felt like a huge effort given how sore he was. His entire front felt sticky, and unlike his partner, he was looking forward to a long shower to divest themselves of the fluid he'd painted them with the night before. Most of all, blood was rushing back to his dick, which still ached from the night before. Aeson tried to will his erection to go back down before it became painful, eyes starting to water.

"I wanna sleep s'more," he murmured. "Or 'least take a shower… p-please, baby?" He lifted his head so their eyes could meet. "Can we?"

[onemaninthedark]

@lunarruled --- continued from here

"Even with him, maybe. I definitely owe you one. Or owe you twelve at this point. You always go around risking your life for strangers?" Maybe that was normal for werewolves, to feel some obligation to help out fellow members of their species, but he doubted it. Most of the wolves he'd run into were more than ready to give up anyone who wasn't a pack member the second he made a threat.

He nodded, eyeing her cut one more time. "Alright. Just make sure you do tell me. I'd feel like a real dick if you got yourself killed over saving my sorry ass." Especially after she'd lugged his sorry ass to the hotel room in the first place, and then volunteered to stay.

"If I were in it for the money, I have to say, I'd be doing a shit job. I'm pretty sure half of the motel rooms I've stayed in have had someone die in 'em. You're right, though, there's real money in this business. I once met a hunter who owned a penthouse in New York and an estate outside London, and had shares in a film studio in L.A. I'm not supposed to say which studio, but I think their main business is greeting cards." After a moment where he considered leaving his response there and completely dodging her question, he added, "You could say it's the second one. Just wasn't my vendetta." Okay, that wasn't much of an answer either, but at least it was the truth.

Aeson took another glance over the case sitting next to him. He pulled out the nail polish remover, then shook his head. "Shit, it's gonna take way more than this to clean up the blood we just spilled. Might have to break into this place's storage and see if they have a couple gallons of bleach and a hell of a lot of towels." Before he worried about covering their tracks, however, he pulled out an old flip phone and snapped a photo of the arachne's body. "Gotta have some proof to show the client," he explained.

[onemaninthedark]

@castafar --- continued from here .

"Wait a second," he began, tempted to point out that he was the one who'd found the man, and this was his house, and he deserved some kind of explanation, but instead he finished with, "Can I at least get something to call you?" Aeson followed the stranger upstairs while he continued. "I mean, I could give you a name myself, but I guarantee it'll be worse than whatever you tell me. I'm too tired to think of anything better than 'meteor man' or 'hot E.T.' right now." To be honest, it was hard to think of anything but the man's sizable ass while he walked behind him. When they reached the bathroom, Aeson stopped outside the bedroom doorway, still waiting for an answer.

From where he stood, he couldn't see the stranger, but he could see that the bathroom door was open and that steam was beginning to leak out into the bedroom. Even without seeing him, he could hear what the man was doing, from the brush of the washcloth against skin to the slick sweeping of hands across a wet body, ending with the sound of a few slippery, but rhythmic, pumps. Before he could think, he had tucked his thumbs under his waistband, pulled his sweats down, and stepped into the shower. It was more research, he told himself.

"Mind if I join you? Figured we could save some water," he said. "And I know that sounds like a line, but I swear, water usage is a real concern out in the middle of nowhere."

The spray felt cooler than usual, but with his own high body heat, he had to look at the shower knob to see the real temperature: as low as the shower could go. The large clouds of hot steam actually were rolling off the being himself. Aeson grabbed the shower gel the man had set aside, squirted some into his hands, and began lathering himself up while he tried to remember all the creatures that could produce that much body heat. His mental list was too long to be helpful. The other's scent seemed to be fading as well, masked by the woodsy aroma of the shower gel, until all Aeson was left with were the pheromones the man was currently putting off. He knew his eyes flashed yellow right then without having to look in a mirror.

The werewolf finished his own shower in under a minute. In the midst of an attempted getaway, before temptation got the best of him, his foot caught on the strip of metal separating the shower from the bathroom. He toppled backward and landed right on his ass on the tile floor.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," he muttered, bringing a hand up to his forehead. On the bright side, there were few things better to kill a boner than a bruised ego.

[onemaninthedark]

lunarruled​:

“I will bet you the next room we have to stay in that I’ll be the one holding your hair back at the end of the night.” Even though there was danger right on top of them Kyleigh was still going to shoot off her mouth and make that bet. She had no intention of whatever this thing was getting the best of her or Aeson that night, though she had to admit most of the adrenaline she was feeling right now was out of pure fear. She had never dealt with this kind of creature before, and it was making her question just what kind of shit her new friend really was in.

Time began to slow down, almost as if someone had hit the slow motion button in a movie, but it was always like that for Kyleigh when she was getting ready for a hunt or to defend herself. It helped her hyper focus on what was right in front of her, this creature, and of course it was taller than her. They always were, the sound of the blasting TV not helping but she understood why Aeson had done it. Make the other people in the hotel or even the staff think that they were trying to cover up the sounds of something else. Normally she would have turned bright red at even the thought of doing such a thing, but right now she was allowed that moment. As she got to her feet she reached for the blade hidden in her boot just about the time another blade went flying by her head and into the creature. It did pin the thing to the wall for a few seconds, allowing her to fully stand and get a good look at it. God the damn thing was ugly as hell, its eyes haunting in their color. The half lycan had no idea what it was or what it did, but she was not about to stand there and find the fuck out either.

Giving a quick nod of her head to let Aeson know she had heard him over that loud ass TV, Kyleigh ducked in time so the thing couldn’t grab her by the throat. Her blade wasn’t going to be big enough to get all the way through to the spinal cord, but if the two of them could pin the thing down she could grab the bigger knife in her own bag and get the job down. Dodging yet another blade thrown by her friend, she came up with an upper cut and shoved the one in her hand into its chin. It went to let out a scream, but with it’s jaw trapped shut all that came out was this strange muffled groan.

Spotting the gun now in Aeson’s hand, Kyleigh shook her head no and quickly ran over to where her bag was. It might not look like it, but that thing was deep and she was able to stash a rather large and long knife among the few outfits she owned. “Don’t you fire that thing unless this doesn’t work! I’m not carrying your crippled ass out of here until the morning A!” She yelled as she ran back to the stumbling creature. It had managed to pull her blade out of its jaw, but the one Aeson had thrown was still sticking out of its one eye. Looked gross as shit, but she had a job to do. Its arms were swinging wildly as she came towards it, one of its claws clipping her upper arm as she plowed full speed into its chest. Kyleigh’s knife was able to pierce its chest and she didn’t stop pushing until she could hear the crack of bone and finally there was silence. The body of the arachne fell to the floor, leaving the half lycan huffing for breath.

“I don’t know what the hell that was, but I don’t appreciate your friends just crashing in like that man.”

As he sat on the bed—much to his annoyance—and watched Kyleigh fight, still waiting for a good time to intervene, he had to admit that he was impressed. He assumed she'd been in conflicts before, but not just anyone could fight off an arachne, and even fewer could without being seriously injured in the process. She still didn't seem like a hunter, but she must have had some experience. The majority of his thoughts, however, were occupied by how he could help within his current limits.

When he saw Kyleigh shake her head, he tipped the barrel of his gun down, but not so low that he couldn't fire if needed. "Then I damn well hope this works," he said, though he doubted she could hear him over the TV. That was one big-ass knife she'd just pulled out of her bag, but was she actually prepared to— His brows rose as she stuck the knife deep in its chest and pushed. He didn't need to be a werewolf to hear the sound of vertebrae cracking. The arachne's body hit the carpet with a soft thud. After several moments passed and it still hadn't twitched, he concluded the arachne was dead. Aeson turned the gun's safety back on and set it down on the bed, then lowered the volume on the TV.

"I'd say that was you avenging my broken ankle. I was chasing him when I fell." Aeson winced at the memory of tripping over the pile of abandoned french fries. “And cross my heart, I don’t plan on holding any more house parties.” He glanced at the cut on her arm where the arachne's claws had dragged along her skin. After forcing himself to his feet, Aeson limped over to Kyleigh to take a closer look and studied the wound before he stepped back again. "Doesn’t look too deep from here. I’d assume the wolf in you can handle healing that up. But you’re the one feeling it, not me. I’ve got a first-aid kit, if you want it... or if you think the arachne’s venom got in it. Except then we’d need my handy-dandy box next to the first-aid kit."

He sat back down on the edge of the bed, adding, “Of course, that’s all assuming you still want my help, now that you’ve got an idea of what I do for a living.”

[onemaninthedark]

castafar​:

     Despite being able to hear the heartbeat of another, and smelling him drawer nearer and nearer, he continued to guzzle himself with water. He drank as fast and as hard as the water could pour out of the tap. Only taking a second or two to gain his breath before resuming. Even while his belly began to hurt and he started to feel sickly, he continued, only stopping when he heard the knock of a wooden door-frame. It was then that he straightened back up and proceeded to turn his head in the direction of where the sound had come from. His gaze fixates upon the stranger, his photographic memory already at play. He notes the dark hair, the bearded jawline, his voice, the colour of his eyes and his lips, his stance and body language. Orion had no shame whatsoever, so he didn’t even attempt to hide the way he stared at the man’s sculpted body, salivating at the prospect of its dense build, taut muscles and that glistening sheen of sweat that bounced the dim light in the room. All throughout, he washes the dirt from his hands and nails. Even going as far as washing his forearms.

     There’s a small section of time where there’s silence between them. After he’s comfortable enough with the progress of the dirt-free hands, he turns the tap off and turns to the man, slowly padding his way closer and closer. A tea-towel is yanked off to dry himself up. Orion stood no more than a metre away from the man, standing before him in all his glory with no attempts at hiding himself away. As he neared the man however, he tilted his head forward slightly, taking a whiff of the man’s scent; his aroma isn’t something he’s all-too familiar with, but that masculine musky stench is something he knows all-too well. “ I don’t object to wearing clothes, if they fit me, ” he began, his voice deeply registered. “ — but I would prefer to have a shower before I dress. ” Orion was quite comfortable as he was however. He had no qualms about being nude in front of a complete stranger, not when the stranger looked like he did. Hands come up front of him as he continues to dry them off, unknowingly flexing head-sized biceps and his broad, heavy chest. “ I am guessing I have you to thank for finding me and taking me into your home. ” Once he had recognised the man to be his saviour, he offered him a gentle bow of his head as a sign of respect and thanks. “ If you don’t mind my asking, who are you and what — exactly — are you? I’ve never smelt your kind before. ” Even after having been in the Universe for eons, he was still surprised to come across something new. Orion’s senses were truly having a day of it, as he dared to take a step even closer, like a curious dog smelling its owner after they had petted a stray. 

     When hands and forearms had been dried, he proceeded to use the damp cloth to dry both his face and his hair, sometimes hiding himself completely in the fabric, trusting and knowing that he was able to handle any wrongdoings aimed at him. Historically, he had only been maimed and captured by Gods before, after he had misplaced his trust and love upon the wrong person. Upon finishing drying off, he tossed the tea-towel to hang over a thick, broad shoulder. Hands comfortably rest at his hips and his eyes continued to roam down, now more focused on the man’s hips, groins and legs, that had regrettably been covered by an item of clothing.

For a moment, Aeson felt like he was the intruder. The man didn’t seem hostile, but he obviously had no issues with making himself at home—and while he already knew the man was big, it was something else to see him standing at his full height. While he had his attention on the stranger’s eyes, he noticed the other’s gaze wander across his body. He crossed his arms over his exposed chest, thinking of the numerous scars littering his torso, which must have been what caught the man’s eye.

“Ah, the water supply to this place isn’t the best, so if you wouldn’t mind being more economical...” Aeson’s voice trailed off as the other seemed to ignore him and go on with his washing. “...or I’ll just check the levels later.”

A long silence passed before the stranger approached him. He fought the urge to back away, but he uncrossed his arms, in case he needed to use them. The air was completely still as they took in each other’s scents. There was still a wet, earthy smell hanging about the other man, a bit of smokiness from the ash, and a faint sweetness—pheromones? Aeson swallowed.

“Right, a shower. That’s understandable.” Focus, you dumbass. This guy could crush your head with his thighs. “No need to thank me. I was already out in the forest, and you were on my way back.”

He winced at the words “your kind”. In spite of his growing comfort with the wolf’s abilities, he couldn’t forget the incident that had caused him to retreat to the forest in the first place. “I’m what people call a ‘werewolf’. Human most of the time, but on the full moon, I turn into what looks like a regular wolf on steroids—” He paused, not sure if the man would get the reference. “—as in a wolf that’s taller than you and that can stand on two legs if it feels like it. My name’s Aeson. I think that’s the gist of it. Now, who and what’re you? Not every day you find someone lying in the middle of what looks like a meteor impact site.”

As the man continued to sniff at him, he wished he’d taken his own shower while the stranger was unconscious. Picking up on others’ scents was easy, but he was much less aware of what his own was revealing. The staring was even more unnerving. He could see the exact path the other’s stormy blue eyes took as they swept from his face to his crotch, skipping over the gun in his pocket as if it posed as much danger as a fanny pack. Aeson shifted his weight back and forth, wishing he’d chosen a thicker pair of sweats. It had been months since he’d gone into the forest; months since he’d had a real conversation, in person; and months since anyone had looked at him like that.

With a slight increase in volume, he said, “The shower’s upstairs through the bedroom. Use whatever you need from what’s in there. I’ve got two crates of soap and gallons more shampoo in the basement, next to all the boxes of shitty protein bars.”