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Triangulation

Title: Triangulation
Author: fengirl88
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Pairing: Raven/Emma/Angel
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: dubious consent, sexual humiliation, power play
Wordcount: 1157
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.
Summary: Raven's desire for revenge on Emma has unexpected results.
A/N: sequel to Tribology, and fill for the xmfc_bingo square "humiliation". Thanks to thimpressionist for beta wisdom and cheerleading, and to 2ndskin, kalypso and #xmentales chat for egging me on.



Raven's still smarting with humiliation, the day after her awful training session with Emma. She’s tormented by the memories of Emma making her be a man, mocking her for her ignorance of what men’s bodies look like underneath their clothes, pushing those images into her head and then…

Raven’s heard guys talking about cock-teasing before now, but she never thought it’d happen to her.

She squirms at the thought of it, goes hot and cold all over at the thought of the others finding out what happened. Seeing Emma swanning about the place looking so insufferably pleased with herself doesn't help one tiny bit.

Even Erik notices something's up, and asks Raven what she's sulking about.

“Mind your own damn businesss!” Raven snaps, and stomps off to her room, slamming the door behind her. She knows Emma's got her acting like a bratty teenager, and that just makes it worse.

She tries to push the memories away, push the angry thoughts way down out of sight, but it doesn't work. All she gets from that is a splitting headache, and then the terrifying discovery that she can't shapeshift properly. She lies on her bed in a cold sweat, shaking with rage and fear. She is not going to cry.

Emma hasn't suggested a repetition of their training session – she probably knows Raven would tell her to fuck off if she did – but the thought of her witnessing that failure just now makes Raven want to curl up and die.

This can't go on: she has to find a way to make it stop. She remembers Erik rebuking her, saying “If you're using half your concentration to look normal, you're only half paying attention to whatever else you're doing”. Maybe what she needs is not to push the feelings down or away but to let them out, to stop them from filling her up till she can hardly breathe.

She lies face down on the bed, punching her fist into the pillow over and over again, though it's a poor substitute for the hitting she wants to do.

Hitting's not enough: she wants to humiliate Emma the way Emma humiliated her, to make her burn with shame, even though that hardly seems possible. She's not sure Emma's even capable of shame, and it's hard for Raven to imagine anything she'd find humiliating.

There really are disadvantages to all those years of passing as a nice girl. Especially when you're up against a woman who seems to have an entire pornographic catalogue in her head. Raven still doesn't know how some of that stuff is even supposed to work, and the size of them...

She wishes now she'd chosen a bigger cock. Wishes she could have made Emma get on her knees and suck it like some of the women in those pictures Emma put in her head. That image with a woman sucking a man's cock while another man fucked her from behind... Raven squirms at the recollection, feeling a curl of shame and arousal in the pit of her stomach.

But she doesn't want a man being part of her revenge, even in imagination. That would be just another kind of defeat. She wishes there could be two of her, or that Angel could shapeshift too, the two of them ganging up on Emma –

Another image flashes in her mind: the woman with a fake penis that looked like it was made of ivory or some pale wood strapped to her body, leaning over another woman and obviously about to fuck her...

That. Yes. Raven's body flushes with heat, and she rolls over onto her back. She concentrates on that unfamiliar shape Emma made her take, remembering how it felt, recreating it. Her own hand on the hot strange flesh feels different from Emma's touch, but it's still startling how her cock hardens and fills with blood. She squeezes and twists and pulls and rubs, imagining Emma as she’s never seen her: Emma on her knees, dishevelled, sweating, mouth stretched wide as Raven thrusts her hips forward, hitting the back of Emma's throat and making tears start from her eyes. She imagines Angel there too, Angel with her skirt hiked up, a rigid curving phallus strapped to her body, fucking Emma's cunt as Raven fucks her mouth, making Emma choke and gasp...

So close, but it's still not enough, she wants Emma not just hurt but wanting, wanting Raven, desperate for her, hanging on the edge of orgasm and Raven not giving it to her. Other way round then, she shifts the fantasy in her head to Emma sucking Angel's fake phallus and Raven fucking her from behind, feeling Emma begin to tighten around her and push back against her, right on the edge of coming and then Raven pulling away, leaving Emma aching burning heavy with want the way she left Raven –

Raven's cock leaps and pulses in her hand, spurting hot and wet over her fist and striping her stomach. There's a roaring in her ears and her vision is streaked with white and silver; she feels as if she's dying, turned inside out, falling, falling...

She feels sticky and strange as the pleasure recedes, but oddly triumphant: I made that, she thinks and it worked. It really worked. She'd held the shape right through it all; hadn't even gone blue.

What would it be like to have that as part of her own form, she wonders; to have the power and confidence that men seem to wear as if it came with the package, as if that odd piece of flesh between their legs gave them the right to everything... Maybe one day she'll find out.



Of course Emma must have heard the whole thing – her smirk at dinner says as much – but Raven doesn't care. Emma's never actually going to look impressed, obviously, but Raven's learning to use her powers by herself now, and Emma knows it. The look in her eyes is speculative, more than anything else.

Raven sleeps well and dreamlessly, and wakes up smiling.



“You and Angel should train together, Raven,” Emma says over breakfast next day. “You'd make a good team.”

“Really?” Angel says, with a sceptical glance at Raven.

Really,” Emma says, with her glittering smile.

Raven feels the push in her head again, but this time the images are her own fantasy, sharpened and turned back on her: Emma cool and unaffected, not a hair out of place; and Raven and Angel fucking her, frantic and sweating, jerking like puppets...

Raven feels herself flush scarlet from her neck to the tips of her ears. Damn Emma Frost to hell.

“I'm going for a run,” she says, getting up abruptly and scraping her chair on the tiled floor. “Alone.



She runs until the sound of her own blood in her ears is almost loud enough to drown out Emma’s mocking laughter inside her head.

Almost, but not quite.






Also posted at http://fengirl88.dreamwidth.org/113834.html with comment count unavailable comments.

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