Salmon Pink (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
salmon_pink) wrote2015-06-18 07:50 pm
salmon_pink) wrote2015-06-18 07:50 pm
(MCU) Fine Print
Title: Fine Print
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: Marci/Christine
Rating: NC-17
Words: 499
Notes: Character spoilers for Daredevil. Queening. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
mcufemslash, prompt "face-sitting".
“I don’t take drinks from lawyers,” Christine says, sliding the martini back across the bar.
Marci raises an eyebrow, her shoe heel pressing against Christine’s ankle, stroking up a little. “Pretty high and mighty talk for a journalist,” she shoots back. “Tell me, how many times have you been sued for libel? This year, I mean.”
Christine smirks and takes the drink.
They don’t stay at the bar for long, after that.
Christine lives closer, and Marci’s secretly dying to see the bitch’s apartment. Kissing hard and fast up against the door once they’ve stumbled inside, and Marci ends up too distracted to go snooping. Shit, she liked those panties, but she’s gotta admit that she likes the sound they make when Christine rips them even more.
They end up on the couch, because the bedroom’s too far, and Christine hisses and bites Marci’s bottom lip when she kicks a pile of paperwork off the coffee table. So Marci yanks her shirt hard enough to pop buttons in retaliation, and the feeling of Christine pulling at her hair as her legs wrap around Marci’s waist gets her so wet she’s aching for it.
Turns out Christine’s even more demanding in bed than Marci, and Marci loves it. Winds up with Christine kneeling over her face, fucking herself against Marci’s mouth. Back arched and one hand reaching behind her to tease Marci’s clit, but never as hard as Marci needs it.
God, it’s driving her crazy, because she wants Christine’s fingers, wants to be screwed into sweet fucking oblivion already, but there’s no way she’s ready to relinquish her hold on Christine’s thighs, the feeling of her pussy against Marci’s tongue. Christine rides her like she knows Marci won’t break, like she knows Marci can take everything she has, and Marci eats out her as sloppy and hard as she can, until Christine tugs at her hair again and comes all over her. Making Marci groan, pressing her thighs together and shaking with how much she’s turned-on.
“Not bad,” Christine admits, still with that sardonic tone, as she moves backward.
“Let’s see you do better,” Marci goads.
That gets her a grin, and Christine hauls her in, licks her juices off Marci’s lips. Gets Marci on her knees, gripping the back of the couch, as Christine fucks her from behind, whispering a string of filth. Marci’s always thought lawyers are the best at using words to get to people, but it turns out they’ve got nothing on a journalist with a dirty mouth.
“I don’t date lawyers,” Christine says the next morning, when Marci gets out of the shower. But she gives Marci her number, and then hits the emergency stop on the elevator on the way out the building so she can finger Marci until her knees can barely hold her up. So Marci figures that’s another exception ready to be made.
Lawyers are good at finding ways to wriggle their way through clearly laid out terms, after all.
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: Marci/Christine
Rating: NC-17
Words: 499
Notes: Character spoilers for Daredevil. Queening. For
mcufemslash, prompt "face-sitting".“I don’t take drinks from lawyers,” Christine says, sliding the martini back across the bar.
Marci raises an eyebrow, her shoe heel pressing against Christine’s ankle, stroking up a little. “Pretty high and mighty talk for a journalist,” she shoots back. “Tell me, how many times have you been sued for libel? This year, I mean.”
Christine smirks and takes the drink.
They don’t stay at the bar for long, after that.
Christine lives closer, and Marci’s secretly dying to see the bitch’s apartment. Kissing hard and fast up against the door once they’ve stumbled inside, and Marci ends up too distracted to go snooping. Shit, she liked those panties, but she’s gotta admit that she likes the sound they make when Christine rips them even more.
They end up on the couch, because the bedroom’s too far, and Christine hisses and bites Marci’s bottom lip when she kicks a pile of paperwork off the coffee table. So Marci yanks her shirt hard enough to pop buttons in retaliation, and the feeling of Christine pulling at her hair as her legs wrap around Marci’s waist gets her so wet she’s aching for it.
Turns out Christine’s even more demanding in bed than Marci, and Marci loves it. Winds up with Christine kneeling over her face, fucking herself against Marci’s mouth. Back arched and one hand reaching behind her to tease Marci’s clit, but never as hard as Marci needs it.
God, it’s driving her crazy, because she wants Christine’s fingers, wants to be screwed into sweet fucking oblivion already, but there’s no way she’s ready to relinquish her hold on Christine’s thighs, the feeling of her pussy against Marci’s tongue. Christine rides her like she knows Marci won’t break, like she knows Marci can take everything she has, and Marci eats out her as sloppy and hard as she can, until Christine tugs at her hair again and comes all over her. Making Marci groan, pressing her thighs together and shaking with how much she’s turned-on.
“Not bad,” Christine admits, still with that sardonic tone, as she moves backward.
“Let’s see you do better,” Marci goads.
That gets her a grin, and Christine hauls her in, licks her juices off Marci’s lips. Gets Marci on her knees, gripping the back of the couch, as Christine fucks her from behind, whispering a string of filth. Marci’s always thought lawyers are the best at using words to get to people, but it turns out they’ve got nothing on a journalist with a dirty mouth.
“I don’t date lawyers,” Christine says the next morning, when Marci gets out of the shower. But she gives Marci her number, and then hits the emergency stop on the elevator on the way out the building so she can finger Marci until her knees can barely hold her up. So Marci figures that’s another exception ready to be made.
Lawyers are good at finding ways to wriggle their way through clearly laid out terms, after all.