Fic: Arrangement (Doom/Emma Frost)

May 20, 2009 17:52

Title: Arrangement
Universe: 616
Characters/pairings: Doom/Emma Frost
Warnings: M/F, graphic sex, bondage (sort of…) blindfolds
Disclaimer: Marvel owns the recognizable characters and the world this is set in. I do not make any claim on any of them. I make no money from this little endeavor.
Author's Note: pensive1 said “I can has more Doom/Emma Frost in my life, plz?” and my answer was “YES!”. LOL Sorry, this took so long. It is for this “drabble” meme. Not so much a drabble obviously.It was inspired in part by images from Dark Reign: the Cabal where Doom has Emma and Loki all Princess-Leia’d out in the tiny little bikini deals and chained up. Victor… you are such a pimp. LOL


She glowered at him, even as she sat by his feet. It almost made him chuckle. The telepath was surprised by this little turn of events. It was almost poetic really. “I think, Miss Frost that you and I have something to discuss.” He yanked harder on the chain connected to her collar than was absolutely necessary to get her moving. It was necessary, however to remind her of her new station in life. She slowly got to her feet, still carrying herself with a bearing that would put most nobility to shame, even if she was barely covered by the scraps of fabric she was wearing. He supposed her years in the Hellfire Club’s Inner Circle had robbed her of any form of modesty that any normal woman might have felt, if she had been in possession of any such modesty to begin with. Victor seriously doubted that she’d had any to begin with.

She began to speak as soon as the door closed behind them. “I will absolutely not stand for this!” She gestured at her apparel. “This was never part of the agreement! I will not be debased to some…”

“That’s quite enough, Miss Frost. You have a seat of power in the new world order. I see no reason to complain.”

“A seat of power?” She laughed. “I sit at your feet, Victor.”

“Would you prefer someone else’s feet?” The implication was clear and she had no answer for him. “Your place is secure. Far more secure than that… goddess.” He gestured toward the door, obviously meaning Loki. “She has served her purpose.”

“And I have yet to do so?”

“Oh no. You have an… ongoing usefulness.” She thought she understood what he meant, and she could do nothing to suppress the shiver his words brought to life. “With you, your telepathic gifts at my disposal, no one will dare lie to me. No one would be foolish enough to try to challenge me.”

The shiver stopped half way up and her back straightened. “Ah.”

“You seem disappointed.” He made no attempt to cover the fact that he did not care one way or the other how she felt about any of it. “You were expecting something else?”

“Well…” a pout formed on her lips. After their… meeting months earlier, she had found it hard to stop thinking about when Doom might want another round or two from her. “I had wondered… given the outfit and all…”

“You are a pleasing woman to look upon, Miss Frost.” As if that were a real answer.

“And you’ve brought me here.” She waved her hand at the room they’d entered, obviously a bedroom, though she had not assumed it was actually part of Victor’s personal quarters. That would be ridiculous.

“Simply a room in which we can speak alone.”

“With a bed.”

“You seemed to have no such requirements the last time we were alone together.” She got the distinct feeling of being smirked at… if Victor Von Doom ever deigned to smirk. Surely he would think that beneath him. “But if you are agreeable to adding something more tangible than your mutant powers to this arrangement, I think something could be worked out between us.” He moved around her toward the door, locking it. He was behind her far more quickly than she had anticipated. She groaned as she gripped her hips, the plates of his armor digging into the bare flesh of her thighs and his armored fingers threatening to tear through the skin at her hips. “Is this what you wanted, my dear?” One hand left her hip and she heard a drawer open, but she didn’t dare turn to look. A moment later, her vision was blotted out; a scrap of fabric, silk, she through, covered her eyes. “There. You are lovely when you are put off your game, Miss Frost.”

She heard a distinct ripping noise, and felt a pull at her waist. There goes the last of my waredrobe. She suddenly felt far more exposed, as if the small scraps of fabric had held her nerve in place more than anything else. She shivered again. “Nervous, woman? Nervousness does not become you.”

“Forgive me if I’m used to living in places with central heating. Castles are damp and drafty.” She held her head up.

“God forbid you catch cold.” His hand pressed between her shoulders. “On the bed, Miss Frost.” She bent forward, feeling for the mattress that she knew was little more than two feet in front of her. When she found it, she crawled over it, finding a pillow and resting her head on it. The distinct sound of the chain that was connected to her collar being wrapped around… something, drew her attention. Apparently, he had no intention of letting her off the bed any time soon.

The room was quiet for far longer than she thought it would be. No touch, no sound gave away where her captor, for lack of a better word, was. So, she stayed put. When the anxiety had faded and she had calmed again, he spoke. “So prone. So helpless. Does it bother you that this suits you so well? If the world only knew…” a low, very masculine chuckle filled her senses for a moment before something… a toy? A dildo… it had to be… circled her entrance. She moaned slightly, her hips lifting. “And always so eager.” Whatever it was, it pushed into her suddenly and she cried out. He set a punishing pace with the toy, hitting the very end of her with nearly ever stroke. “Perhaps you need more.”

She could feel the tension in her muscles, holding her on the edge but not quite letting her fall. The toy slid from her completely and she found herself whimpering at the loss. “Yes… please…” she panted.

“Please? Please what?”

“More!” The word came out as little more than a moan; so desperate that she barely recognized the voice as her own. She was vaguely aware of something clunking on the stone floor a moment before Victor slammed into her. Again, as with the last time, he only removed the armor he absolutely had to take off to fuck her. Plated metal rubbed patches of her skin raw as he pounded deep into her with the same rhythm he’d set with the toy. She moaned, wrapping her legs around him, ignoring… or rather reveling in the small spikes of pain where her skin met his armor. She pulled him in as deep as she could get him, all the while moaning, whimpering and begging for more. It was finally enough to send her over the edge, screaming as she came.

His pace did not slow. If anything it grew more urgent, more forceful each time her body tightened around him. Her cries and screams had dwindled down to small whimpers and breathy moans. Her body trembled and she would have sworn the entire room moved as a roar of release from the man inside her.

He moved away from her, and judging from the dip in the mattress, off the bed. She made to sit up and that same very masculine chuckle echoed in the room again. “Not yet, Miss Frost. I am no where near done with you.”

fan fiction, character: emma frost/white queen, character: victor von doom/dr. doom, fandom: marvel, fanfic: prompt

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