Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4937251.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Marvel_(Comics), Marvel_616
  Relationship:
      Victor_Creed/Raze_Darkholme
  Character:
      Victor_Creed, Raze_Darkholme, Raven_|_Mystique
  Additional Tags:
      Smut, Pseudo-Incest, Masturbation, Sexual_Coercion, Age_Difference,
      Mention_of_Mental_Illness, Depression, Surly_Victor, Raze_is
      like...sexual_predator_creep_of_all_time, srsly_have_you_seen_his_comic
      panels, holy_shit_man, Loud_Sex, oops_almost_forgot, Underage_Sex, Anal
      Fingering, Come_as_Lube, Feral_Behavior
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-10-05 Chapters: 2/? Words: 3806
****** Vacation ******
by Fic_finisher_(orphan_account)
Summary
     Raze stops by Victor's place for a summer break, with the sole
     intention of having awesome sex. Awesome sex ensues.
     Eventually.
     Note: this is not actual incest.
     Second Note: Chapter one is now edited.
Notes
     Raze's arrival. The beginning of Victor's demise.
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
Victor was leaning with his ankles crossed, against a post that held up the
patio roof of his little house in the country, waiting for the car to pull up.
He could hear it from several miles away, but couldn't scent it because of the
unusual direction of the wind. He figured they'd get a thunderstorm this
evening. While it would be a nice relief from the stale heat, the precursor
wind shift didn't help him identify the vehicle.
Not that he absolutely needed to identify it. If it was his guest, there would
be no problem - if it wasn't his guest, there would be no problem...and he'd
get to blow some stress with a hunt while he waited for the company to arrive.
Speaking of said company.
Victor thought over the precarious circumstances which surrounded the visit.
Because let's face it, you can't really trust Raven. Not with your life, not
with your money, and oddly enough not with her kids, either. Victor sniffed. So
much for mothering instinct, he thought. Hers was equivalent to that of a
shark: make the baby, drop it off, leave it to fend for itself or get eaten.
So he's gotta be a little wary when she sends her youngest over for 'a
weekend.' Victor, after all, is a working man, a busy mercenary with no time
for kids.
Especially not for Logan's kids.
How in the hell that happened, he can't even begin to say- Okay. So Jimmy's
always had a similar taste in partners as Victor has. Redheads are nice. So are
unbelievable hunks like Hercules. But they don't hit the spot for Victor, not
quite. They're decent. They'll do in a pinch. No one will ever be quite right
for Creed except Jimmy...who, for the last fifty years, has found Victor
repugnant. But Mystique is a sexy lady - badass, saucy, bossy, and the perfect
combination of bitch-in-charge and cuddler. And that's all before she started
shifting.
So, yes, Victor can understand how Logan could have been attracted to her, how
they could have had sex numerous times, and even how they could end up with a
baby. But despite understanding it, he certainly does not like it.
And yet. Here is Logan's child, Raven's child, the brood of the man who
continuously rejected him and the shifter who cannot be trustworthy... and
Victor is looking forward to seeing it for a little while. He doesn't want to
get shouldered with a kid for the rest of his life - he can put up with a lot
from Raven, but not that - but he will be glad to have the little runt over.
Not because it's Logan's kid. Just because.
He didn't need a fucking reason to want to see it anyway. He was fuckin'
Sabretooth, he could like his ex-boyfriend's kids if he wanted.
When the BMW pulled up, it contained exactly the passengers he was expecting.
There would be no killing this hour.
The pipsqueak was chauffeured, naturally. The driver came around to open the
passenger door for the young man, who stepped out of the vehicle with a smirk
wider than the damned Cheshire Cat.
"Hey, Uncle Vic!" Raze said, excitement in his voice. "Jeez, you don't look a
day older than last time."
"Healin' factors tend t'do that." Victor's fangs showed as he smiled widely at
his nephew, sizing the kid up. He was sure ten years ago the shifter was a
toddler, so this young twenty-something-looking adult had to be looking older
than he was. By at least ten years. But as Raze pulled the suitcases out of the
luxury vehicle, Victor noted that the boy carried himself like a man and his
voice was matured. Besides the lying age, Raze looked good. He looked healthy,
bright.
"Yer lookin' good, pup," he told the youth,
Raze smiled at him brashly, setting down the suitcases and practically running
to Victor, arms wrapped immediately around the man's neck. (He must've
stretched a bit, because Creed was a tall man and Raze seemed to have inherited
his father's height range.) "Aw, Uncle Vic," he grinned. "I always look
amazing."
Which was certainly no lie. His face was etched flawless, prominent pointed
chin and high cheekbones. Bright red hair scruffed short on top his head
shocked the living daylights out of you in contrast to the beautiful royal blue
of his skin. He was dressed (or at least had shifted into) what resembled
designer brands, white jacket without an undershirt, white dress shoes, and
white pants that had white skulls on his belt.
There was no doubt who the boy took after most, thank god. If the kid was a
replica of Logan, Victor would've had a hard time not slaughtering it.
"Ya look like yer goin' fer a position in the Mafia, kid," Victor raised a brow
and pushed the boy off with a growl. "Quit clingin' like a leech."
"Aw, Uncle!" Raze smirked up at Victor, unwrapping his arms from the blond's
neck. He insisted on touching the feral somehow. When he spoke again, his teeth
dug into his bottom lip. "You're such a flatterer. I don't remember that part
from last time, when I was really little and you came for Christmas...but I
really don't mind it now."
Now, wasn't this interesting? Victor felt the tables altered - not quite
turned, just altered - as the boy invaded his space, touched him, spoke to him
with those slippery, seductive words. Just what was he after? The best way to
find out was always to play along. Creed growled from his chest in response to
Raze's statement, and wrapped his arm around the man's lower back. "I don't
remember ya bein' quite so affectionate. But I ain't complaining, either."
Raze smirked and bit his lip, then slid out of Victor's arms. He walked over to
the door of the cabin, looking back at the man. Creed stepped forward to
follow, wanting to know just what the kid was up to. Raze held up a pointing
finger and paused. Then pointed at his suitcases.
"You forgot."
Victor blinked at the luggage. Fuck if he was going to tote around the damn
kid's bags. "Get yer own damned purses."
"But Unnncle! They're heavy!" he pouted back.
Victor stalked up to him, causing the young man to flatten against the door
frame. He looked down at Raze just inches from contact. "I rule this house.
It's my territory, runt," he held Raze in place by the boy's hair, ignoring the
pleasured lip-bite and the leg set outside his own. "I wouldn't expect you to
carry someone's luggage into yer house. You got butlers ta do that sorta thing.
I don't have butlers. You want yer shit, you get it yourself."
"God, Victor," he breathed, his head tilted to expose his neck. It was a
gesture of vulnerability and submission, and signal to the feral that this was
a bitch ready for mating. Creed was tempted, in all honesty, to take the man
then and there, to show the cocksure cub just who was in charge here. Instead,
he let go of the shifter's hair and entered the cabin.
Raze pouted behind him. "Territory, schmerritory. You're carrying my bags in."
"In your dreams, princess," Victor growled. He walked into the kitchen, closely
tailed by the misfit.
"Ooo whatcha makin'?"
"Food. If you want any, make it yourself," the feral stated blandly. He had
been planning on making a meal for the two of them, but that changed when the
princess wanted to be waited on hand and foot. "Don't ya have something to do?
A gameboy to play or some shit?"
"I love gameboy but no, I didn't bring it and have nothing to do," Raze rolled
his eyes. "What kinda food?"
"Fuck off, kid."
"Can't fuck by myself," Raze smirked.
"Jack of in the shower or somethin'," Victor griped, rolling his eyes. It was
pretty clear what the kid wanted. Victor just needed to know why, and why from
him. "Just get the fuck away."
"Hmm...no thanks," Raze shrugged Creed's bluff. "I like it here."
Victor didn't reply for a while, busy cutting vegetables. He didn't mind the
shifter there. He was still at home, and having a person here was soothing.
"You eat vegetables?" Raze asked with curiosity as Vic prepped broccoli for a
quiche. "Like...you willingly eat vegetables?"
"Yep. Problem, pup?" Victor turned to glance at him. Raze shook his head.
"Nah, I love them. I can't do vegetarian - I tried, it sucked - but yeah. I
love food, actually. I figured all you ate was deer and berries and I was gonna
die of malnutrition."
"I eat deer and berries, but that's not all," Victor smiled at the boy. "How's
yer mama doing?"
Raze tensed. The feral picked up on that, assuming something was going on with
Raven. The boy had been trying to hide stress pheromones since he got here, but
Victor could sense them easily. For the shifter's control to be that
ineffective, though, there'd have to be a lot of stress. Was Raven trying to
get rid of the kid? Had Raze picked up on it?
The shifter smirked easily. "Mama's fine. She's running Madripoor as usual,
totally capable, not overbearing."
He nodded in acknowledgement. "Woman's good at that. How long were you s'posed
to stay, Raze?"
The shifter smirked. "Already wanna get rid of me, huh? Two weeks."
"Don' wanna get rid of you at all," Victor stated honestly. "Thought it was
s'posed to be for the weekend."
Raze shrugged, not meeting Creed's eyes. "I decided I wanna stay longer."
Victor nodded. Maybe the kid needed longer to de-stress. He was fine with that.
Red peppers came next.
"So...is that a problem?" Raze asked awkwardly.
"Not a problem," Victor shook his head. "Trust me, pup, if somethin's a problem
I'll make sure you know it."
------------
Raze did eventually drag his stuff in because he needed his computer to check
on business and politics in Madripoor. And on Mom. He closed the door to the
spare bedroom Victor had ready for him. The shifter needed privacy for this.
The older man didn't interrupt him at all - which was weird, 'cause wasn't that
what adults were supposed to do, check on kids? Although, it was nice to be
left alone and not have to worry about getting checked on. Most adults were
awful for that, got in the way.
He closed his laptop with a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes. Madripoor was fine,
but Mom almost drowned herself in the pool by accident, Kerry said. He told
Kerry - he was the butler - to keep her in sight. He didn't care if the house
was dirty when he came back, he'd rather have Raven alive. And Kerry forgot she
had to be hand-fed because she couldn't remember how to use utensils. So she'd
had a late lunch. Raze decided he really ought to hire a nurse so the butler
could focus on better things. He'd look into it this evening.
Raze couldn't quit worrying about Mom. He left the laptop on his desk with some
effort, controlling the urge to call Kerry and fire him. Instead, he lay down
on the bed, facing the wall and clearing his head. He lay and stared blankly
for an hour or so. He felt really empty, depressed. He recognized that feeling
as a very bad, scary thing. It had him bedridden two months ago for a couple
weeks. He didn't like being inept, and he wasn't about to slip into it again.
So for another half-hour, he spent time on the floor, opening his heart and
lengthening his spine with yoga sequences until he felt better.
Then he smirked, thinking of the huge feral in the house. Raze had so many
reasons for what he wanted to do.
He figured this would do it.
He shifted forms, but kept the mild scent of sweat on his skin, knowing it
would appeal to Victor's nose. From a kneeling position he bent forward,
pressing his chest and shoulders and one side of his face on the ground, giving
him perfect access to stroke his cock. In this form, he'd leak precum like a
woman leaked arousal (in the right situation, of course, for the right person.
He was aware they didn't just do it all the time).
He closed his eyes and enjoyed the friction of his hand, the pleasure that
radiated up his spine from below the navel. Before long the pre to leak into
his fingers. He smirked and bit his lip, gathering the fluid to spread it over
his hole. He traced his rim and continued to milk his cock. He thought of
Victor watching. The older man would laugh at the amount of precum dropping out
of him, a territorial darkness consuming his expression while he watched Raze
take all that liquid to coat his fingers and press two into his ass-
"Mm," he sighed, closing his eyes and fucking himself slowly with the two
digits, stroking with the other hand until there was a thick puddle on the
floor. He turned his head to the other side, and pulled his fingers out with a
whine. Then he sighed. This would be more than enough sex-scent on himself to
peak Victor's interest. He could stop.
Did he want to stop? He thought a sec, the cool air on his cock, skin burning
with the lack of attention. Was Mom getting enough attention? Was it time for
her to eat again? He'd been a couple hours, maybe taken longer than he should
have, so maybe he should check on her aga-
Raze grit his teeth and sighed. Yeah, he needed to go all the way.
He slicked up three fingers in the come, only focusing on the cool, wet
coating. He pressed the first two fingers back into his tight hole and felt
around in the silky tunnel while the rings of muscle relaxed slightly. He loved
the feeling of the walls relaxing from his fingers, opening up wide and then
tightening around the digits, only to open again when he scissored the two. The
muscles clamped down again as he added the third finger, so Raze had to push to
get it in. At first, the rim refused to stretch any further, seemed like a
solid, circular rock... but then it started to relax once more, just enough for
him to thrust the digits in deep, another moan pouring from his throat.
"Uhhhoh my god," he groaned, sweat on his forehead. He held his fingers still a
moment and focused on the almost numb pleasure of fullness. Then he twisted
them with a groan, and found that wonderful round spot of-
"Fuuuuuck-" he moaned, mouth wide open, eyes slack with the white-hot pleasure
that blinded him. He tugged on his cock with his other hand, flesh sliding over
flesh while fingers squelched into the hole. The two pleasures built quickly,
driving uphill, becoming almost too much. Then, it was too much. He reached the
top of the hill, rubbing at that round, beautiful organ inside him, and thrust
his hips down into his hand, orgasming hot and heavy.
"Oh fuck," he mumbled, collapsing onto his side with his one hand covered in
come. He pulled one of the digits out of his ass, and slid two back in, moaning
at the delight post-orgasm.
He eventually pushed himself up off the floor, wiped up the mess, shifted into
a pair of pants. Raze left the room with a chuckle, heading straight to the
bathroom. He passed Victor in the living room along the way, smiled and waved
at the man.
When he came out of the bathroom, Uncle Vic wasn't in the house anymore. He was
outside working up a sweat by chopping wood, expelling his frustration.
Raze smirked, wiping excess cum onto the headrest of the older man's chair.
God, this was going to be a fun fortnight.
***** Interrogation *****
Chapter Summary
     I am so tired I can't even reread this atm for triggers and stuff.
     So: Great Big Trigger Warning
     There's pseudo-incest (Victor is not blood-related and he and Logan
     split a long time ago. Victor and Raven had a fling, and split a long
     time ago.) for sure. Probably some rape mention, maybe blood,
     definite underage, heavy domination/submission, and coarse
     description of explicit things.
     I will edit this summary/warning later.
Victor was ready to maul the kid by the time two days had passed. Raze was
walking out of the shower nude, leaving cum smeared in places Victor could
easily smell it, and parading around the house with the aroma of sex all over
him. The little shit flaunted him/herself like a bitch in heat and distracting
the feral from focusing on relaxing and thinking over his next mercenarial job.
The only reason Creed hadn't pinned and thoroughly fucked Raze by now was
because the shifter happened to be the spawn of both of his exes - and that was
barely enough reason.
He had to either satisfy the shifter's desire, or stop the boy from practically
stripping under Victor's nose while emitting pheromones; so the third day, he
made his move.
Raze came out of his room early in the morning reeking of sex, while Victor was
cooking pancakes (Wade Wilson's recipe, the best ever). The older man flipped
the eight on the griddle, then turned it off, abandoning the batch in favor of
waiting in the living room for the kid to finish in the bathroom.
Raze smirked and checked Victor out when he walked into the room. "'Morning,
Uncle Vic."
"'Mornin', pup. Sit down."
The shifter seemed to assess the situation before he sprawled over the couch.
He was tense. "Yeh, sure. What's up?"
Victor seated himself in his chair, leaning forward with his elbows on opened
knees. He interlaced his fingers and flexed his claws against his hands. The
motion helped him think. "We're gonna talk, pup. I'm gonna ask questions.
You're gonna answer 'em. Clear?"
"Uh-huh," Raze nodded, with unusually little to say.
"Good boy," Victor purred. The kid deserved a reward for being so cooperative
early-on, after all. "What are y'doin' in that room o'yours?"
The shifter put some of his confidence back on. He smiled roguishly. "Why,
Uncle, I thought you would've smelled it by now."
Creed snorted. "Yer either spendin' six hours tryin'ta get off - in which case
there's somethin' wrong with yer health - or yer doin' somethin' else too.
Post-orgasm or not, pup, you're comin' out more stressed than when you go in.
What're ya workin' on?"
Raze looked at him briefly. Victor figured the pup had already weighed the pros
and cons of revealing his secret. He was, after all, Raven's kid - she'd have
taught him never to jump into things dick-first. The kid was probably thinking
about whether this was the best time to tell.
Creed leaned back in his armchair. "If yer killin' people, I won't be telling.
If yer rapin' people, I won't be telling. Those are the worst-possible things
you could share with me, Raze. Anything else is dust in the wind."
"Okay," the kid nodded. Raze shifted on the couch into a comfortable lying-down
position. "I'm running Madripoor as Mom."
Well. That was a bit of a shocker. "Awright," Victor nodded. "How's Raven feel
'bout that?"
The boy glanced away. "She's not thinking about it. She put me in charge of it,
actually. Yeh, we're fine," he nodded, eyes meeting the feral's again.
Victor scraped his claws on the underside of one of the arms of his chair. Raze
didn't want to talk about Mystique. That was reasonable, considering she
happened to be an awful mother figure an' all. "I know y'ain't tellin' me much,
Raze. But, when y're ready, y'can. Until then...why are you lookin' fer a fuck
from me?"
The shifter's signature smirk made its appearance again. He opened his thighs
casually. "Because you're sexy, you're available, I'm turned on all the time,
and you don't seem to have much of a problem with the concept of you and me
fucking."
Victor angled a slanted smile at him. It was true enough. "Pup," he drawled, a
predatory look settling on his features. He could practically taste blood.
"...how old are ya?"
Raze's mouth opened in a little circle for a moment, tongue sliding slowly over
his lip and his eyes roaming freely over the feral's body...and always coming
back to focus on the frightening look on his Uncle Victor's face. "Almost
sixteen," he managed. "Is that gonna be a problem?"
"Naw, pup," Creed smirked. "Not really." He prowled over to the boy on the
couch, then stood over him with claws beating a steady five-beat pattern on his
legs. "Couple o' questions for ya. I don' give victims that, y'see, so...this
means y'ain't a victim. You asked me, boy. You paraded around like a wet little
slut and rutted yer heat through my house."
The shifter swallowed tightly, heat radiating off his cheeks and tension in all
his muscles. He was getting hard, too. He nodded. "Yeah, Uncle Vic. I'm a wet
little cunt-"
Victor stepped forward quickly and pressed his hand over Raze's mouth,
squeezing his jaw tightly. The shifter's eyes widened, but his pupils dilated -
completely turned on by the dominant behavior. "Did I ask you a question, pup?
Did I give you an order?"
Raze shook his head.
"Then I don' wanna hear your mouth runnin', y'got that?"
Raze nodded.
Victor smiled and let go, patted his cheek, and told him "Good boy." The
shifter blushed even more and smiled cutely. "First question: you pretending
I'm yer dad?"
God, did the pup ever scowl at that. "No, sir."
"Y'seem pretty pissed off 'bout that. Why aren't you pretending?" Victor asked,
thoroughly amused and curious.
"Because my dad's a fucking asshole and I don't want you pretending to be him
and I don't want to pretend you are him," Raze said bitterly. "He left me alone
for years. He threatened Mom. He's a shitty father."
"Fair enough," Creed nodded. Good. He couldn't stand it if the pup took after
his dad. "You got any troubles 'bout playin' rough?"
He shrugged, uncertain. "Don't kill me. Please don't open me up and make me see
my organs. And I'm not into prolapses. Besides that, I think rough is okay."
"Awright. One more. I don' do any fuckin' safewords. If somethin's hurtin', you
tell me. In words. Don't be screamin' 'starfish' when what y'mean is 'I can't
feel my legs.'"
Raze snickered. "Awright," he said, imitating the feral.
"So the question is: anythin' else off the chart? We ain't doin' any fuckin'
daddy play or piss. You got any other troubles, you trash 'em into the open
right now," Victor said almost kindly.
Raze thought a moment, then shook his head. "Anything you want, Uncle Vic. Show
me how to be a good boy for you."
Victor leaned down, smirking wickedly, and grasped the shifter's chin between
fingerclaws and thumb. Raze seemed intoxicated with his leer, shuddered at the
contact and the razor-sharp points that threatened to break skin.
"Y'already are a good boy, pup."
End Notes
     *don't kill me, it's post-midnight and I have turned into a gremlin*
     YUM YUM.
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