Loveaholic 4
Title: Loveaholic
Author: Alsike
Fandom: X-Men/Criminal Minds x-over
Pairing: Emma Frost/Emily Prentiss
Rating: R- We're upping this chapter to NC-17
AN/Disclaimer: Not my girls.
Apologies: Not really a pretty scene...
Summary: Sometimes the plans you make have a chance to become real. What if what you thought you wanted isn't enough?
“God! Just leave me alone!” Emily threw her coat at Michael who was trying to get close enough to do her hair.
“Please! I know just what to do! It will look beautiful!”
“Why do I need to look beautiful? I’m not the one with a date!”
“Yeah, but Matt already knows I’m beautiful. You need to pull tonight!”
“I do not need to pull tonight! Why are you always on me about needing more sex? And it’s a school party, who am I going to pull? Jared’s mother?”
“What about Ms. Frost?”
Emily cringed. “Are you joking?”
Michael shrugged. “I think you have a chance there.”
“What if I don’t want a chance? What if I just want you to leave me alone?”
He leaned in and kissed her mouth gently. “As long as you aren’t afraid of being happy.”
* * *
Emma blinked, rather shocked. It was a horrible school event with a band concert and punch and inedible food and the Fleetwood-Prentisses sauntered in as if they were heading out to a club. The tips of Matt’s hair were blue, and he was dressed in tight faded jeans and a patterned long-sleeved shirt. Michael wore a long flowing duster with shiny black buttons and a white ruffled shirt with a top hat to match, and Emily… Emily’s hair was twisted up high, one curving lock falling past her face. Her lips were painted red, black silk fingerless elbow-length gloves, and a dress: bare shoulders, a narrow, corset-topped sheath, with a tattered, asymmetrical skirt, and Emma choked on her vodka-spiked punch.
There were definitely a few comments from the assembled parents. Emma glared at a woman with a particularly disapproving tone. Michael glanced over and smiled at her and she felt rather shocked. She had thought she had been rather successful at alienating him. He was messing around; hiding Sam and Susan in his voluminous coat and having them practice sneaking around unseen. Matt had managed to get caught up in a discussion with the headmaster about healthy foods in dining halls. Emily was standing awkwardly near the punch. Emma slipped up behind her and added a drop of vodka from her flask into her cup.
“You look like you could use that.”
Emily flinched at the sight of her. She glanced over to Michael and then back to Emma. “He didn’t put you up to anything, did he?”
Emma blinked. “I… can’t say. I thought I had irritated him fully, but he seems to be being excessively pleasant.”
Emily laughed weakly. “I think he likes you. As do both of my children. That doesn’t mean that I do.”
“I wasn’t about to assume so.”
Emily grimaced and seemed to be considering explaining herself better, but decided against it. She took a sip of her punch and gagged. “Don’t you have Jack or something, that will actually make it taste better?”
“I’m not working miracles here.”
Emma had things to do, parents to talk to, children to congratulate, but she kept Emily in the corner of her eye the whole time. She couldn’t keep her eyes away for long. She saw her drop her punch in the trash and go over to Michael who was gesticulating and telling her something Emma couldn’t hear. Emily looked irritated at him, but didn’t resist when he pushed her back into the crowd.
It was getting later. The janitor was pointedly turning off lights, and the parents were taking their children home. She found the Fleetwood-Prentisses near the coats, arguing.
“I will take them home. But you brought your own car. You should stay longer.”
Emily glared at Michael. “You made me bring my car. There’s absolutely no reason for me to stay.”
“Yes there is,” said Matt, beeping her nose. “And in fact, if you give us at least an hour and a half, we can get them to bed and do something else.”
Emily groaned. “Stay out of my room.”
The men and the kids disappeared and Emily groaned, leaning into the coats.
“You’re actually staying?” Emma asked her.
Emily glanced unhappily at her watch. “The library’s already closed, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Emily looked up at her suspiciously. “You lied when you said you weren’t in on this.”
“I didn’t.” Emma caught her chin and lifted it up so she could see her face. “That doesn’t mean that I won’t participate.”
“You’d sleep with me?”
“It’s not like it would be a chore.”
“That’s all it would be. I’m not interested in anything else.”
“That’s fine. Your husband explained the rule.” Emma smirked. “It’s not like I would press for anything else even if you offered.”
Emily frowned. “You wouldn’t?”
“I’m not someone who’s desperate for a relationship. I try to avoid them generally.”
Emily blinked and gave her a hard curious look. “Then it seems like this situation works well for both of us.”
Emma nodded. “Come with me. I need to fetch something from my desk for the weekend.”
It was dark in the hallways. She could hear the janitors clearing the last people out and locking the doors. She had her own keys, and either way, she lived in the dorms just down the hallway and up the stairs. She unlocked the door to her classroom, and didn’t bother to turn on the lights. She heard the door click shut behind Emily, and set down the papers on her chair.
“Lock it.”
“What?”
“Lock it,” Emma hissed, suddenly right in front of her, her body close. She reached over Emily’s shoulder and clicked the bolt. Then she pressed her mouth to the woman in front of her’s and slid her hands up her hips to her waist. The silk of her dress was cool under her fingers, but her mouth was so hot, and Emily was kissing her back.
She had been waiting to take that dress off all night, but it was too much work and motor control, so she merely hiked up the skirt and set Emily on the desk, her hands sliding up the even softer warm silk of her thighs.
“God, I want you so much.” Emma found the zipper on the back of the dress and pulled it down just enough so she could peel the bodice away and press her mouth to Emily’s full breasts. Emily twisted her fingers into her hair so tightly that it hurt. Her breathing had already changed and she had kicked her shoes off and was hooking her ankles around Emma and trying to pull her in close enough to grind against her.
“Why?” Emily gasped, breathy-voiced.
“Not a useful question right now…”
“Why does my body need this?”
“Because it’s a body,” Emma whispered, biting at her neck. “Do you ask it why it needs food or warmth?” Her fingers found the wet heat of Emily’s centre and she let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.
“Nothing about this feels natural.” Then she gasped as Emma’s fingers slid inside of her. She clung roughly to Emma’s neck, and Emma felt something hot and wet on her cheek. Was it tears?
“Does it feel good?”
“It feels like the way pixie sticks taste.” Emily choked and lifted her hips, forcing Emma’s fingers even farther in. “Like the tangy chemical sweetness of sin.”
Emma circled her fingers deeply inside of her. “That’s how it’s supposed to feel.”
This was what she had wanted, and hadn’t been able to tell herself. She wanted to be inside of her, her teeth marking her skin, breaking her. And that's what she did, fucking her steadily and roughly, making her sweat, tears squeeze out the corners of her eyes. Emma’s nails traced lines that flared red. She bit at her neck and breasts. Emily’s hair unwound and her fingers twisted into Emma’s shirt as she thrust her hips again and again. Emma pressed her thumb against her clit and curled her fingers inside, sliding slickly across the place that made her gasp. And Emily came, burying any sound in Emma’s chest and coating her fingers with a thick wetness.
Emma kept moving, shallowly and slow, until Emily sighed, releasing the death grip on her shirt and leaned back onto the desk. Emma withdrew her hand and sucked on it absently. She wanted to just look at the woman, sprawled out on her desk, with her dress scrunched around her middle, her lipstick smeared, her chest rising and falling, hair coming undone.
Moonlight glinted off her ring, and it was then that Emma realized why she had wanted this so much.
Emily was sitting up, rubbing her eyes, and moving a few pencils from where they had been acting as torture devices. She seemed sort of tentative. “Do you want me to…”
Emma shook her head. “I got what I wanted.” She helped Emily off the desk and fixed her dress.
“Are you… sure?”
“You wanted to get off and I wanted to fuck you. Let’s not make more of this than it needed to be.”
Emily nodded slowly and uncomfortably.
“Can you drive?”
Emily chuckled weakly. “You were good, but I don’t think you were that good.”
“We don’t need to talk about this,” said Emma flatly.
“No. I don’t think we do.”
Emma unlocked the door and Emily slipped out with one half glance back.
Emma sank into her desk chair and leaned her head in her hands, wondering what she had done.
* * *
Emily drove in circles up around the moors until the moon had set. She slipped silently into the house, hoping not to disturb anyone, but Matt was in the kitchen.
“Look at you, all post sex messy,” he grinned. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this before.”
“Yeah,” Emily looked away. “Not for a while at least.”
“Are you all right? It wasn’t… bad, was it?”
“No. It wasn’t bad.” She fingered a still tender bite mark on her neck. “It was just sex though. Nothing special.”
* * *
5: "I'm not the man you think I am
Author: Alsike
Fandom: X-Men/Criminal Minds x-over
Pairing: Emma Frost/Emily Prentiss
Rating: R- We're upping this chapter to NC-17
AN/Disclaimer: Not my girls.
Apologies: Not really a pretty scene...
Summary: Sometimes the plans you make have a chance to become real. What if what you thought you wanted isn't enough?
“God! Just leave me alone!” Emily threw her coat at Michael who was trying to get close enough to do her hair.
“Please! I know just what to do! It will look beautiful!”
“Why do I need to look beautiful? I’m not the one with a date!”
“Yeah, but Matt already knows I’m beautiful. You need to pull tonight!”
“I do not need to pull tonight! Why are you always on me about needing more sex? And it’s a school party, who am I going to pull? Jared’s mother?”
“What about Ms. Frost?”
Emily cringed. “Are you joking?”
Michael shrugged. “I think you have a chance there.”
“What if I don’t want a chance? What if I just want you to leave me alone?”
He leaned in and kissed her mouth gently. “As long as you aren’t afraid of being happy.”
* * *
Emma blinked, rather shocked. It was a horrible school event with a band concert and punch and inedible food and the Fleetwood-Prentisses sauntered in as if they were heading out to a club. The tips of Matt’s hair were blue, and he was dressed in tight faded jeans and a patterned long-sleeved shirt. Michael wore a long flowing duster with shiny black buttons and a white ruffled shirt with a top hat to match, and Emily… Emily’s hair was twisted up high, one curving lock falling past her face. Her lips were painted red, black silk fingerless elbow-length gloves, and a dress: bare shoulders, a narrow, corset-topped sheath, with a tattered, asymmetrical skirt, and Emma choked on her vodka-spiked punch.
There were definitely a few comments from the assembled parents. Emma glared at a woman with a particularly disapproving tone. Michael glanced over and smiled at her and she felt rather shocked. She had thought she had been rather successful at alienating him. He was messing around; hiding Sam and Susan in his voluminous coat and having them practice sneaking around unseen. Matt had managed to get caught up in a discussion with the headmaster about healthy foods in dining halls. Emily was standing awkwardly near the punch. Emma slipped up behind her and added a drop of vodka from her flask into her cup.
“You look like you could use that.”
Emily flinched at the sight of her. She glanced over to Michael and then back to Emma. “He didn’t put you up to anything, did he?”
Emma blinked. “I… can’t say. I thought I had irritated him fully, but he seems to be being excessively pleasant.”
Emily laughed weakly. “I think he likes you. As do both of my children. That doesn’t mean that I do.”
“I wasn’t about to assume so.”
Emily grimaced and seemed to be considering explaining herself better, but decided against it. She took a sip of her punch and gagged. “Don’t you have Jack or something, that will actually make it taste better?”
“I’m not working miracles here.”
Emma had things to do, parents to talk to, children to congratulate, but she kept Emily in the corner of her eye the whole time. She couldn’t keep her eyes away for long. She saw her drop her punch in the trash and go over to Michael who was gesticulating and telling her something Emma couldn’t hear. Emily looked irritated at him, but didn’t resist when he pushed her back into the crowd.
It was getting later. The janitor was pointedly turning off lights, and the parents were taking their children home. She found the Fleetwood-Prentisses near the coats, arguing.
“I will take them home. But you brought your own car. You should stay longer.”
Emily glared at Michael. “You made me bring my car. There’s absolutely no reason for me to stay.”
“Yes there is,” said Matt, beeping her nose. “And in fact, if you give us at least an hour and a half, we can get them to bed and do something else.”
Emily groaned. “Stay out of my room.”
The men and the kids disappeared and Emily groaned, leaning into the coats.
“You’re actually staying?” Emma asked her.
Emily glanced unhappily at her watch. “The library’s already closed, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Emily looked up at her suspiciously. “You lied when you said you weren’t in on this.”
“I didn’t.” Emma caught her chin and lifted it up so she could see her face. “That doesn’t mean that I won’t participate.”
“You’d sleep with me?”
“It’s not like it would be a chore.”
“That’s all it would be. I’m not interested in anything else.”
“That’s fine. Your husband explained the rule.” Emma smirked. “It’s not like I would press for anything else even if you offered.”
Emily frowned. “You wouldn’t?”
“I’m not someone who’s desperate for a relationship. I try to avoid them generally.”
Emily blinked and gave her a hard curious look. “Then it seems like this situation works well for both of us.”
Emma nodded. “Come with me. I need to fetch something from my desk for the weekend.”
It was dark in the hallways. She could hear the janitors clearing the last people out and locking the doors. She had her own keys, and either way, she lived in the dorms just down the hallway and up the stairs. She unlocked the door to her classroom, and didn’t bother to turn on the lights. She heard the door click shut behind Emily, and set down the papers on her chair.
“Lock it.”
“What?”
“Lock it,” Emma hissed, suddenly right in front of her, her body close. She reached over Emily’s shoulder and clicked the bolt. Then she pressed her mouth to the woman in front of her’s and slid her hands up her hips to her waist. The silk of her dress was cool under her fingers, but her mouth was so hot, and Emily was kissing her back.
She had been waiting to take that dress off all night, but it was too much work and motor control, so she merely hiked up the skirt and set Emily on the desk, her hands sliding up the even softer warm silk of her thighs.
“God, I want you so much.” Emma found the zipper on the back of the dress and pulled it down just enough so she could peel the bodice away and press her mouth to Emily’s full breasts. Emily twisted her fingers into her hair so tightly that it hurt. Her breathing had already changed and she had kicked her shoes off and was hooking her ankles around Emma and trying to pull her in close enough to grind against her.
“Why?” Emily gasped, breathy-voiced.
“Not a useful question right now…”
“Why does my body need this?”
“Because it’s a body,” Emma whispered, biting at her neck. “Do you ask it why it needs food or warmth?” Her fingers found the wet heat of Emily’s centre and she let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.
“Nothing about this feels natural.” Then she gasped as Emma’s fingers slid inside of her. She clung roughly to Emma’s neck, and Emma felt something hot and wet on her cheek. Was it tears?
“Does it feel good?”
“It feels like the way pixie sticks taste.” Emily choked and lifted her hips, forcing Emma’s fingers even farther in. “Like the tangy chemical sweetness of sin.”
Emma circled her fingers deeply inside of her. “That’s how it’s supposed to feel.”
This was what she had wanted, and hadn’t been able to tell herself. She wanted to be inside of her, her teeth marking her skin, breaking her. And that's what she did, fucking her steadily and roughly, making her sweat, tears squeeze out the corners of her eyes. Emma’s nails traced lines that flared red. She bit at her neck and breasts. Emily’s hair unwound and her fingers twisted into Emma’s shirt as she thrust her hips again and again. Emma pressed her thumb against her clit and curled her fingers inside, sliding slickly across the place that made her gasp. And Emily came, burying any sound in Emma’s chest and coating her fingers with a thick wetness.
Emma kept moving, shallowly and slow, until Emily sighed, releasing the death grip on her shirt and leaned back onto the desk. Emma withdrew her hand and sucked on it absently. She wanted to just look at the woman, sprawled out on her desk, with her dress scrunched around her middle, her lipstick smeared, her chest rising and falling, hair coming undone.
Moonlight glinted off her ring, and it was then that Emma realized why she had wanted this so much.
Emily was sitting up, rubbing her eyes, and moving a few pencils from where they had been acting as torture devices. She seemed sort of tentative. “Do you want me to…”
Emma shook her head. “I got what I wanted.” She helped Emily off the desk and fixed her dress.
“Are you… sure?”
“You wanted to get off and I wanted to fuck you. Let’s not make more of this than it needed to be.”
Emily nodded slowly and uncomfortably.
“Can you drive?”
Emily chuckled weakly. “You were good, but I don’t think you were that good.”
“We don’t need to talk about this,” said Emma flatly.
“No. I don’t think we do.”
Emma unlocked the door and Emily slipped out with one half glance back.
Emma sank into her desk chair and leaned her head in her hands, wondering what she had done.
* * *
Emily drove in circles up around the moors until the moon had set. She slipped silently into the house, hoping not to disturb anyone, but Matt was in the kitchen.
“Look at you, all post sex messy,” he grinned. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this before.”
“Yeah,” Emily looked away. “Not for a while at least.”
“Are you all right? It wasn’t… bad, was it?”
“No. It wasn’t bad.” She fingered a still tender bite mark on her neck. “It was just sex though. Nothing special.”
* * *
5: "I'm not the man you think I am