Title: Bicker pt 8
Author: Alsike
Fandom: X-Men/Criminal Minds x-over
Pairing: Emma Frost/Emily Prentiss, Emily/Selene
Rating: NC-17
AN/Disclaimer: Not my girls.
Word Count: 2474
Prompt: 041. BDSM
Apologies: And more of the Princeton Eating Club AU! If you don't know what Eating Clubs are, think Hellfire Club for college students. Bicker is the system for picking new members to let into the club.
Tell me if this makes sense or not. It's really hard to write, because it's Almost Over!! Probably just one chapter left! I am so sad. :(
Part 1Part 2Part 3
Part 4Part 5Part 6Part 7 "Hello, Emily, I haven't seen you in a while."
“Selene.”
Emily glanced quickly over her shoulder. Emma was behind her. She could see her face pale as she put two and two together, and then her expression hardened. She met Emily’s eyes, nothing in hers.
“See you later.”
Emily nodded weakly, watching her as she disappeared through the archway and then glanced back at her parents and Selene. Selene smiled, her eyes narrow and amused.
“A friend of yours?” asked Emily’s mother.
For a moment Emily forgot what she should say. She hesitated. “Yes,” she finally managed. “We were studying.”
“You could have brought her along,” suggested her father, cheerfully.
“No!” Emily exclaimed more emphatically than she had intended. “No. She… she has a paper to write.”
“You know we always like to meet friends of yours.”
Emily didn’t acknowledge her mother’s statement. She knew that well enough. They always like to check up on her, make sure her friends were appropriate, not bad influences. She had no idea what they would think of Emma, if they knew her father, if they had opinions. She didn’t care. It was a superficial vetting. They had walked in on her bound to the bedstead, leashed, gagged, and being fucked from behind by a woman, and as soon as they had realized that the woman was from a good family with excellent connections and an interest in politics they hadn’t given a damn about whether Emily was entirely fine with the situation or not.
It wasn’t as if she would have complained if they had asked. There was something magnetic about Selene, something that made you forget about everything else if she were looking at you. She felt her gaze on her now, as they walked down towards the stadium. Her father was giving her an excitable rendition of a new project at his work, something about creating economic stability in developing nations by encouraging big banks to create small loan savings networks in promising areas. Selene had been very helpful with this, apparently.
She felt cold while she was walking, wearing Selene’s gaze and trying to respond correctly to her father’s monologue. Selene was always self-contained. You knew you were fenced in and couldn’t run. She never claimed you with a hand or a brush against your shoulder. She never had to prove it. Your mind was directly subordinate to hers. Emily had always been self-contained as well. She had never been used to nor ever needed someone hanging on her all the time, touching her as if that were the way it was supposed to be. She didn’t know why she was uncomfortable now.
Emily sat by her mother, letting her tell her about how much she was enjoying taking time off and teaching International Relations at Georgetown. She wondered absently why her mother hadn’t ever tried this while she was growing up, why she had never worried about making them feel like a family until now. And now they brought Selene with them, like an adopted son, ready to marry their daughter and carry on the family name. Sometimes Emily felt like a pawn to everyone she knew.
The kickoff occurred. Yale gained a quick twenty yards. There was a roar, her father getting to his feet, shouting, and Emily couldn’t hear herself think. She needed to understand why this was making her so unhappy, but she couldn’t focus, she didn’t know. Hurriedly she stood up, making her excuses, and pushed her way through the crowds toward the bathroom. She ducked into the tunnels that led to Jadwin gym and found the bathrooms there, blessedly empty.
Emily leaned over the bathroom sink, feeling nauseous remembering the look that had been on Emma’s face as she had turned and walked away. She clenched the cool porcelain, staring down in to the stained basin.
“I can see you’ve been busy, lover.”
Emily looked up and caught sight of Selene in the mirror, coming closer.
“You’ve found yourself a pretty little pet.”
Emily paled, turning around, and pressing herself against the sink, as if it might open into a door she could flee through. “Emma’s just… just for now.”
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Selene grinned wickedly. “Oh no, you don’t have to tell me that.” She traced her fingers up Emily’s neck. “I could see that you are.”
“I…”
“Turn around.”
Emily obeyed. Selene cupped her cheek, watching both their reflections in the mirror. She shook her head. “You’ve taken to dressing like this again.” She unbuttoned her jeans, sliding her hand in to test her. “Doesn’t your pet complain?”
“Yes,” she hissed, as Selene raked her nails down her thighs. “All the time.”
She gasped as a finger slid into her, easily. “Mmm,” Selene mused. “You were playing with her earlier, weren’t you.”
“Yes.”
“I want you to tell me everything about her.”
* * *
Emma ran into Seb at the library. He grinned at her, at her cleavage, mainly. “Looking forward to tomorrow night?”
Emma stared at him, blankly. “What?”
“Initiations.”
“Oh.” Emma hadn’t been thinking about that. It hadn’t even crossed her mind, not since she had seen that woman, seen the way she looked at her, looked at Emily like she was nothing, like she owned her, and Emma was vermin she couldn’t wait to scare off. “I hadn’t thought about it.”
Seb rolled his eyes. “I’m sure. How’s your little sexual identity crisis going?”
Now Emma had a headache. “What sexual identity crisis?”
“Oh come on. Don’t tell me that if you’re following the rules, you aren’t suffering withdrawal… from men.”
Emma snorted. Some people were too transparent for words. “I can’t say that I have been.”
“You’re saying she’s turned you?”
“Turned me?” And suddenly Emma was angry, angry about all of this shit, but especially angry at herself, at how much she cared that that slutty sub suddenly had someone else. It hadn’t ever been a secret that the stupid game they were playing was just a game. But she had just let herself think… “You and your little pop-psych concepts are so cute,” she spat at Sebastian. “I’m not having a sexual identity crisis because I don’t have a sexual identity. People who actually have sex, rather than just thinking about it all the time, don’t need all that shit. Sex is sex. It has nothing to do with who I am.”
Seb laughed, a little bewildered. “Is our little Emily giving you enough sex to keep the bad thoughts away?”
“Yeah,” Emma said flatly, turning away from him towards the shelves. “I really doubt you could even keep up.”
* * *
“I don’t know…” Emily whimpered. “She’s gorgeous, and confident, and vulnerable, all at the same time.” Selene gave her a light slap on the ass as encouragement. “And she hates not being in control. She’s just started to trust me enough to let me even go near her hard limit.”
“Oh, she has a hard limit?”
Selene’s finger slid into her ass and Emily laughed and gulped at the same time. “Yeah, that one.”
“That was one of yours once.”
“Really?” Emily mumbled, clinging even more tightly to the sink. “I can’t remember.”
And then Selene’s other fingers closed around her piercing and twisted, and Emily gasped, suddenly remembering why she had never even considered saying no to this woman, the easy, careless way she could blend pleasure and pain into something better than either.
Selene picked her up easily, twisting her around until she was sitting on the sink, leaning back against the mirror. Her fingers burrowed deep inside of her and she leaned in, biting down on Emily’s lower lip hard enough to make it bruise and swell. She tasted iron on her tongue.
Emily reached out and Selene caught her wrist, slamming her hand back against the cold tile. “And do you like topping?” Selene hissed. “Do you like making her cry and beg for more at the same time?”
“Fuck… yes.” Emily tipped her head back, cracking it against the mirror, and struggled to lift her hips up off the sink. Selene moved in and out of her, roughly, holding her down, in place, so she couldn’t move, couldn’t change the feeling, control the pressure.
“But now tell me… did you miss me?” And she pushed in, unleashing her claws, sharp nails digging in deeply enough to draw blood.
“…yes!”
* * *
Emily’s door was locked. Emma stared at it for a long moment. She didn’t have a key, she remembered, surprised, and then wished that it hadn’t surprised her. Then finally she knocked.
Emily opened it, just enough for her to slide out, not letting Emma see into the room. She looked flushed and sort of guilty, and Emma had never hated anyone as much as she hated her right then.
“I think…” Emily looked hesitant and worried. “You should probably spend tonight in your dorm.”
Emma swallowed hard. “You’re letting her stay with you?”
“We have some things we need to talk about.” That was a lie. She couldn’t even wipe the shame off her face. “And… I think it would just be safer for you not to be here.”
“Safer! If it’s not safe for me, what is she going to do to you?”
“Emma…” Emily’s fingers curled around her face and Emma jerked away. It wasn’t fair. In all their games, she had never felt this powerless.
“Just put a fucking sock on the door handle next time. I don’t need this shit from you.” She turned and stormed down the hall, rummaging in her bag for the keys they had found earlier.
Emily watched her go, fingers pressing into her forehead as if it hurt. Then she took a deep breath, turned, and stepped back inside.
* * *
Dinner had been a trial, keeping up a positive front with her parents, with her thighs sticky and sick with guilt. Her father had been too upset about the loss to pay much attention to her, but her mother was watching her sharply, glancing between her and Selene as if trying to peer into the future. On the way out she pulled Emily aside.
“I hope it was alright that we brought her. I know it can be difficult, being here, so far away from the real world. You forget things.”
Emily stared at her mother. How was this not the real world? Fine, it was protected, it was private, it was wealthy, but in no way was that any different than the lives her parents led. What she meant by the real world was living up to their expectations for her.
“It’s fine,” Emily said, a little too sharply. It had just been an awkward time, when she was desperately trying to ignore what tomorrow night held, when she was already struggling with taking on a new role, discovering capabilities and propensities she hadn’t even known she had. Being reminded that they didn’t matter, that she didn’t have a choice about what was going to happen to her after this four year vacation in the ‘not real world’ was over, was a shock to the system, but wasn’t anything she didn’t know. She laughed, and her mother looked at her oddly, but she had been thinking about her disapproval when Emma had told her she was taking Econ because her father wanted her to. She could be such a hypocrite sometimes.
“Well, we had better catch the train,” said her father, coming up behind them. “We’re heading out to the house in Pennsylvania, since we have a few days off.”
Emily glanced over to Selene. “You…”
“Would you mind if I stayed?” It wasn’t a question, it was a promise, and Emily swallowed hard.
“Of course not,” she said, and meant it.
They left her parents at the dinky and walked slowly across campus towards Emily’s dorm.
“You’ve been uncomfortable,” Selene said. “Do you want to tell me why?”
“I- I don’t know. I feel guilty for agreeing to what the club wanted without asking you.”
“Do you really? You know I left you in their care.”
Their tender care, Emily thought, trying not to let the frown show on her face. “I feel guilty for… for wanting her as much as I do. I shouldn’t have enjoyed it so much.”
“Why not?” Selene gave her a sly grin. “I think it shows that you’re growing up. It’s good to be able to appreciate your own power. It would… please me very much to be allowed to watch.”
Emily shook her head. “It’s over anyway. Initiations are tomorrow night. And I think…” She breathed out tightly. “I think it's a good thing, because I’m pretty sure I failed.”
“Failed?”
“At doing what they wanted me to do. I was supposed to make her give up control of with whom and when and where she had sex, and instead I just ended up letting her dictate to me.”
“That’s probably my fault,” said Selene easily. “I never let you get any practice with taking what you wanted. You shouldn’t be so afraid to hurt people. You can read them well; you should be able to tell if that’s what they want. It’s never a crime to give people what they want, is it?”
“Is it?” Emily’s hand hovered over the card checker for a moment too long.
“Clearly I need to train you better.”
Emily opened her door, turned back and smiled. “You want to get on that?”
* * *
Emily shut the door, locking it again behind her.
“You sent her away?” Selene purred, tracing a finger down her cheek.
Emily nodded, moving over to the bed. “I needed her… I needed her to know that she isn’t part of this.”
“You know you still belong to me. You know you always belong to me.”
“Yeah,” Emily whispered laying back as Selene opened her shirt and traced circles over her breasts with blade-sharp nails.
“Yeah?” Selene inquired, dark eyed and dangerous.
Emily flushed. “Yes, Mistress.”
“You are clearly out of practice.” Selene slipped a pair of handcuffs out of her handbag. “You know what to do.”
Emily stripped quickly. There was no use in being seductive. Selene was not interested in her body whole. She lay flat on her stomach, hands above her head, gripping the metal bar that ran along the headboard. Selene closed one hand over her wrist, locking the cuff around it, winding the chain around the bar. Then her other wrist was locked in.
Selene captured her ankles, cuff, twist, cuff. She pulled the innocuous knotted rope from her bag and wound it around her hand.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, mistress.”
“Count.”
And it had been far too long, her body was not ready for this, and Emily was sobbing in minutes, her back a mess of bloody welts.
* * *
Part 9