MMOM Day 8-"Visiting Hours" Alias Michael Vaughn/Irina Derevko Rated R Wordcount-360
Title: Visiting Hours
Fandom: Alias
Pairing: Michael Vaughn/Irina Derevko
Rating: R
Wordcount: 360
Notes: Requested by the fabulous savemoony. Beta-ed by my always amazing beta_goddess. Takes place in the 2nd Season.
Summary: Michael has a daily appointment
Also available at:
FF.Net
Dreamwidth
A03
“Hello, Michael. Is it that time again?”
Vaughan looked at the woman who had murdered his father, betrayed Jack Bristow and abandoned Sydney. Irina Derevko had destroyed so many lives, yet she stood there with her insolent smirk as though he were the prisoner and she the jailer. Maybe she had a point.
He couldn’t stay away from her, no matter how many promises he made to himself. Every day he ended up in front of Irina’s cell. Looking.
Irina would look back, toying with him. She managed to inflame his passion with the slightest gestures: a coy bite of her lower lip or a strand of hair placed behind one ear that reminded him far too much of Syd. By the time she ran a hand against the curve of her own hip or took a deep breath to let him see the rise and fall of her breasts, he was already hard.
Sweat was breaking out on his face, despite the controlled temperature, while she coolly observed his desperation, encouraging it with a flick of her eyes toward his crotch and the bulge that was already impossible to hide. He unzipped and exposed himself to her cool gaze and flared nostrils, convinced that what he was seeing on her face was the same thing he felt.
He jerked himself off roughly, wanting desperately to fuck her. In his mind he was pushing her down on the cot. She’d be hot and taut, fighting him while he pounded into her, until she went limp under him while he came, vanquishing the demons for another day.
Vaughn’s vision went cloudy as he felt the warmth against his fingers. The mist turned out to be Irina’s breath against the glass, clearing to reveal a mixture of amusement and pity on her face.
Michael used his handkerchief to clean himself and said a silent prayer that the cameras were aimed solely at the cell’s inhabitant and not her visitors. Syd would never forgive him and Jack probably had at least twenty creative methods of torture at his disposal which would eventually lead to Vaughn’s well deserved death.
Otherwise he’d be back tomorrow.
Fandom: Alias
Pairing: Michael Vaughn/Irina Derevko
Rating: R
Wordcount: 360
Notes: Requested by the fabulous savemoony. Beta-ed by my always amazing beta_goddess. Takes place in the 2nd Season.
Summary: Michael has a daily appointment
Also available at:
FF.Net
Dreamwidth
A03
“Hello, Michael. Is it that time again?”
Vaughan looked at the woman who had murdered his father, betrayed Jack Bristow and abandoned Sydney. Irina Derevko had destroyed so many lives, yet she stood there with her insolent smirk as though he were the prisoner and she the jailer. Maybe she had a point.
He couldn’t stay away from her, no matter how many promises he made to himself. Every day he ended up in front of Irina’s cell. Looking.
Irina would look back, toying with him. She managed to inflame his passion with the slightest gestures: a coy bite of her lower lip or a strand of hair placed behind one ear that reminded him far too much of Syd. By the time she ran a hand against the curve of her own hip or took a deep breath to let him see the rise and fall of her breasts, he was already hard.
Sweat was breaking out on his face, despite the controlled temperature, while she coolly observed his desperation, encouraging it with a flick of her eyes toward his crotch and the bulge that was already impossible to hide. He unzipped and exposed himself to her cool gaze and flared nostrils, convinced that what he was seeing on her face was the same thing he felt.
He jerked himself off roughly, wanting desperately to fuck her. In his mind he was pushing her down on the cot. She’d be hot and taut, fighting him while he pounded into her, until she went limp under him while he came, vanquishing the demons for another day.
Vaughn’s vision went cloudy as he felt the warmth against his fingers. The mist turned out to be Irina’s breath against the glass, clearing to reveal a mixture of amusement and pity on her face.
Michael used his handkerchief to clean himself and said a silent prayer that the cameras were aimed solely at the cell’s inhabitant and not her visitors. Syd would never forgive him and Jack probably had at least twenty creative methods of torture at his disposal which would eventually lead to Vaughn’s well deserved death.
Otherwise he’d be back tomorrow.