Ficcage
I'm totally de-anoning here, but since I actually filled a kink meme prompt about Viola assraping Lance Amano with a strap-on, I might as well post it here. :D;; Cause Viola is awesome. <3 I'm not really sure if I can write her at all, but I did try. So...
Title: Antidote
Pairing: Viola/Lance
Rating: NC-17 for obvious reasons
Lance Amano was not used to waiting. In the 21 years of his life he had very rarely had to wait for anything. This, of course, was a different story. Here he was not in charge.
In fact, he was terrified. Switching his weight from one foot to another, he glanced at the clock again.
He had now been waiting for fifteen minutes. Alone in that garishly furnished office. Lance liked to think he didn't belong there any more than that impressive golden desk did.
And as much as he would've liked to avoid meeting that man... he wanted this to be over as soon as possible.
He took a deep breath. All he would have to say was that it'd take him a little bit longer to get the money. Right? What's the worst they could do? They wouldn't dare. Lance knew people too.
Even with that on his mind, he still jumped when he found he wasn't alone anymore.
"We are sorry to have made you wait" said a voice that made his blood curdle. "Would you like some coffee, Mr. Amano?"
Gathering the remains of his dignity, Lance turned to face the woman. He couldn't help but think that she always looked like she was going to a funeral.
"No thank you, I would just like to get this matter discussed so I can leave. I have... places to be."
The woman was still smiling, but he could swear he saw something flash in her dark eyes.
"Don Tigre is extremely busy right now. He's dealing with a customer who just hasn't been able to meet our payment schedules, no matter how generous they've been." She looked right into his eyes, the corners of her mouth turning slightly upward again, into that small strange smile. "It's such a shame."
Lance shuddered.
"I'm sure a nice cup of coffee would make your waiting time more pleasant."
This time, there really was no question in her voice. She wasn't offering him coffee, she was telling him to have some.
"A-alright, thank you very much" Lance muttered, and soon enough he found himself seated in a rather comfortable arm chair, with a cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand.
The woman stood a few feet away, observing him with those almost black eyes. Once again he thought of something strange; she wasn't observing, she was lurking.
Lance forced himself to smile, though it must have looked more like a cringe, and took a sip of the coffee. It was dark, like the unnerving eyes of that woman, and sweet.
"This is very good" he said, about as casually as if someone was holding a gun to his head.
"I'm glad you like it, Mr. Amano. I used a special ingredient, just for you."
His smile died at that.
"A... special ingredient?" He still did his very best to sound casual.
"Yes, a little something called 'atroquinine'." Her smile widened just a little bit. "You should be flattered, it is extremely rare to come by, you know."
"W-what...? Atro... what?" All color had fled his face.
"It provides a simply exquisite taste. And a painful death, in about..." she glanced at the clock, "twenty minutes from now."
Lance was up on his feet faster than he had probably ever been in his life. The porcelain cup shattered onto the floor.
"WHAT?" As the thought of what she had just said sank in, Lance stared at the woman bewildered. "Y-you... you p-poisoned me."
Viola Cadaverini smiled, tilting her head to the side in an innocent gesture.
"That's right. I most sincerely apologize for having to do that. Don Tigre is under the impression that you might not have the funds we have humbly been asking from you for quite some time now."
"S-so you... you're going to kill me??" His head felt light, vision blurring from the sides, and he imagined this is what it felt like to faint. Surprisingly, the woman made no move to stop him when he scrambled towards the door. Twenty minutes. He needed help, fast.
"Oh, no. Nothing of the sort." He heard the woman's tinkling laughter. "It would be in your best interest to stay a little longer though. So we can get you a good dose of this."
He turned to look. She was holding a small vial.
"This is an antidote. Would you like some?"
The question was obviously rhetorical, and the follow-up predictable.
"You will have to do a little something for it, though."
"I don't have the money!" Lance screamed, all thoughts of pride tossed aside. He didn't want to die. "I don't have it!"
"That's alright, we were prepared to that. Maybe this will motivate you to... set your mind on the matter, that's all."
"...What do you want?" He looked like he was about to cry. Like a scared little boy.
"Be a good boy and lean down on that desk", the woman giggled again, her voice coming from somewhere not so far behind him. "And close your eyes. No peeking!"
The surface of the desk felt cool against the side of his face as he squeezed his eyes shut. He had no idea what the woman had in mind, but if it'd get him that antidote, if he didn't have to die today in this shady loan shark's office, he would do it.
There was some rustling. A clinking of something that might have been a belt buckle. And then the woman was right behind him, small determined hands slipping around his waist to skillfully undo his pants. He made a noise of surprise and confusement, but she didn't seem to care.
His pants were yanked to his knees, soon followed by underwear, and for a passing moment he had a strange image of a child bent on a parent's knee for a spanking.
He was almost certain that that's exactly what she was going to do; give him a spanking for being naughty.
But then he felt something hard, something artificial pressing against him from behind, pressing against a place that made him gasp and tense, reflex-like rejecting the object.
The woman leaned over his body, her breath tickling his neck.
"Stay still now..." The blood-curdling laugh again. "Relax, that'll make this easier for both of us."
The feeling of being violated washed over him in a wave that made him sob in a quite unmanly way. No one had ever laid a hand on him against his will. Never. He knew people, had connections, his father was THE Ernest Amano, no one touched him without consequenses.
Before he had the chance to tell the woman any of that, there was a hard demandind pressure against that place again. He cried out in objection, no way something that size would ever go in there...! But it did, slid surprisingly smoothly after breaking the barrier of that right ring of muscles. The pain was unlike anything he had felt before, for a while it felt like his lower body was torn apart, and he saw stars.
He didn't even hear himself screaming. He was clinging to the desk under him, hands squeezing the edge hard enough for his knuckles to turn white.
The woman made an amused chuckle when Lance's body twitched violently. That thing inside him pressed against a spot, a bundle of nerves that made his vision blank with what he thought was pain but was at the same time the most intense pleasure he had ever experienced. Gasping for breath he managed to choke out
"No... no more...!" He was scared of what might happen to him if she kept doing what she was doing, pulling back almost all the way and slamming right back into him, hitting that bundle of nerves over and over.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered he had an erection. Without realising it he bucked his hips, desperately trying to release that tension building up in his stomach.
The rest happened to suddenly, like being shot in the head with a bullet of white hot bliss. A shrill scream, back arching, eyes rolling back in his head, and finally, his release splattering on the shiny metallic surface of the desk. It was violent and left him panting heavily, aftershocks making him tremble.
When it was all over he finally felt the item being pulled out of him, and as the glow of orgasm began to fade he felt sharp pain again. He was quite sure he was bleeding.
A hand reached from behind him, that vial in her pale fingers, and held it to his lips, letting him drink the contents. He didn't waste a drop.
"There now, I think we have... discussed this matter quite thoroughly for today, don't you think?" That rustling and clinking again, and the heat of the woman's body pulling away from his. "Get up now, we wouldn't want Don Tigre to see you indecent." She sounded like they had just sat down with a tray of bisquits and had a nice little talk.
Lance never told anyone what happened in the office of Tender Lender that afternoon. He limped for a while, but nobody ever asked.
When he fled the office he had promised to have the money soon, very soon, promised it over and over again before closing the door behind him. He didn't want to think what would happen to him if he didn't.
When he allowed himself think about the incident, he was pretty sure that more than twenty minutes had passed between the sip of coffee and the antidote, but of course he couldn't know for sure. He didn't question it.
Work has been crazy. I've been working like mad for three days, three more days left before I get to rest a bit. So sorry for failing with the drawing requests. ._.
Title: Antidote
Pairing: Viola/Lance
Rating: NC-17 for obvious reasons
Lance Amano was not used to waiting. In the 21 years of his life he had very rarely had to wait for anything. This, of course, was a different story. Here he was not in charge.
In fact, he was terrified. Switching his weight from one foot to another, he glanced at the clock again.
He had now been waiting for fifteen minutes. Alone in that garishly furnished office. Lance liked to think he didn't belong there any more than that impressive golden desk did.
And as much as he would've liked to avoid meeting that man... he wanted this to be over as soon as possible.
He took a deep breath. All he would have to say was that it'd take him a little bit longer to get the money. Right? What's the worst they could do? They wouldn't dare. Lance knew people too.
Even with that on his mind, he still jumped when he found he wasn't alone anymore.
"We are sorry to have made you wait" said a voice that made his blood curdle. "Would you like some coffee, Mr. Amano?"
Gathering the remains of his dignity, Lance turned to face the woman. He couldn't help but think that she always looked like she was going to a funeral.
"No thank you, I would just like to get this matter discussed so I can leave. I have... places to be."
The woman was still smiling, but he could swear he saw something flash in her dark eyes.
"Don Tigre is extremely busy right now. He's dealing with a customer who just hasn't been able to meet our payment schedules, no matter how generous they've been." She looked right into his eyes, the corners of her mouth turning slightly upward again, into that small strange smile. "It's such a shame."
Lance shuddered.
"I'm sure a nice cup of coffee would make your waiting time more pleasant."
This time, there really was no question in her voice. She wasn't offering him coffee, she was telling him to have some.
"A-alright, thank you very much" Lance muttered, and soon enough he found himself seated in a rather comfortable arm chair, with a cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand.
The woman stood a few feet away, observing him with those almost black eyes. Once again he thought of something strange; she wasn't observing, she was lurking.
Lance forced himself to smile, though it must have looked more like a cringe, and took a sip of the coffee. It was dark, like the unnerving eyes of that woman, and sweet.
"This is very good" he said, about as casually as if someone was holding a gun to his head.
"I'm glad you like it, Mr. Amano. I used a special ingredient, just for you."
His smile died at that.
"A... special ingredient?" He still did his very best to sound casual.
"Yes, a little something called 'atroquinine'." Her smile widened just a little bit. "You should be flattered, it is extremely rare to come by, you know."
"W-what...? Atro... what?" All color had fled his face.
"It provides a simply exquisite taste. And a painful death, in about..." she glanced at the clock, "twenty minutes from now."
Lance was up on his feet faster than he had probably ever been in his life. The porcelain cup shattered onto the floor.
"WHAT?" As the thought of what she had just said sank in, Lance stared at the woman bewildered. "Y-you... you p-poisoned me."
Viola Cadaverini smiled, tilting her head to the side in an innocent gesture.
"That's right. I most sincerely apologize for having to do that. Don Tigre is under the impression that you might not have the funds we have humbly been asking from you for quite some time now."
"S-so you... you're going to kill me??" His head felt light, vision blurring from the sides, and he imagined this is what it felt like to faint. Surprisingly, the woman made no move to stop him when he scrambled towards the door. Twenty minutes. He needed help, fast.
"Oh, no. Nothing of the sort." He heard the woman's tinkling laughter. "It would be in your best interest to stay a little longer though. So we can get you a good dose of this."
He turned to look. She was holding a small vial.
"This is an antidote. Would you like some?"
The question was obviously rhetorical, and the follow-up predictable.
"You will have to do a little something for it, though."
"I don't have the money!" Lance screamed, all thoughts of pride tossed aside. He didn't want to die. "I don't have it!"
"That's alright, we were prepared to that. Maybe this will motivate you to... set your mind on the matter, that's all."
"...What do you want?" He looked like he was about to cry. Like a scared little boy.
"Be a good boy and lean down on that desk", the woman giggled again, her voice coming from somewhere not so far behind him. "And close your eyes. No peeking!"
The surface of the desk felt cool against the side of his face as he squeezed his eyes shut. He had no idea what the woman had in mind, but if it'd get him that antidote, if he didn't have to die today in this shady loan shark's office, he would do it.
There was some rustling. A clinking of something that might have been a belt buckle. And then the woman was right behind him, small determined hands slipping around his waist to skillfully undo his pants. He made a noise of surprise and confusement, but she didn't seem to care.
His pants were yanked to his knees, soon followed by underwear, and for a passing moment he had a strange image of a child bent on a parent's knee for a spanking.
He was almost certain that that's exactly what she was going to do; give him a spanking for being naughty.
But then he felt something hard, something artificial pressing against him from behind, pressing against a place that made him gasp and tense, reflex-like rejecting the object.
The woman leaned over his body, her breath tickling his neck.
"Stay still now..." The blood-curdling laugh again. "Relax, that'll make this easier for both of us."
The feeling of being violated washed over him in a wave that made him sob in a quite unmanly way. No one had ever laid a hand on him against his will. Never. He knew people, had connections, his father was THE Ernest Amano, no one touched him without consequenses.
Before he had the chance to tell the woman any of that, there was a hard demandind pressure against that place again. He cried out in objection, no way something that size would ever go in there...! But it did, slid surprisingly smoothly after breaking the barrier of that right ring of muscles. The pain was unlike anything he had felt before, for a while it felt like his lower body was torn apart, and he saw stars.
He didn't even hear himself screaming. He was clinging to the desk under him, hands squeezing the edge hard enough for his knuckles to turn white.
The woman made an amused chuckle when Lance's body twitched violently. That thing inside him pressed against a spot, a bundle of nerves that made his vision blank with what he thought was pain but was at the same time the most intense pleasure he had ever experienced. Gasping for breath he managed to choke out
"No... no more...!" He was scared of what might happen to him if she kept doing what she was doing, pulling back almost all the way and slamming right back into him, hitting that bundle of nerves over and over.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered he had an erection. Without realising it he bucked his hips, desperately trying to release that tension building up in his stomach.
The rest happened to suddenly, like being shot in the head with a bullet of white hot bliss. A shrill scream, back arching, eyes rolling back in his head, and finally, his release splattering on the shiny metallic surface of the desk. It was violent and left him panting heavily, aftershocks making him tremble.
When it was all over he finally felt the item being pulled out of him, and as the glow of orgasm began to fade he felt sharp pain again. He was quite sure he was bleeding.
A hand reached from behind him, that vial in her pale fingers, and held it to his lips, letting him drink the contents. He didn't waste a drop.
"There now, I think we have... discussed this matter quite thoroughly for today, don't you think?" That rustling and clinking again, and the heat of the woman's body pulling away from his. "Get up now, we wouldn't want Don Tigre to see you indecent." She sounded like they had just sat down with a tray of bisquits and had a nice little talk.
Lance never told anyone what happened in the office of Tender Lender that afternoon. He limped for a while, but nobody ever asked.
When he fled the office he had promised to have the money soon, very soon, promised it over and over again before closing the door behind him. He didn't want to think what would happen to him if he didn't.
When he allowed himself think about the incident, he was pretty sure that more than twenty minutes had passed between the sip of coffee and the antidote, but of course he couldn't know for sure. He didn't question it.
Work has been crazy. I've been working like mad for three days, three more days left before I get to rest a bit. So sorry for failing with the drawing requests. ._.