Fic: her body's the answer
Apr. 6th, 2012 03:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sabinelagrandeTitle: her body's the answer
Summary: Sudden doesn’t mean bad. Necessarily.
Fandom: X-Men: First Class RPF
Word Count: 2310
Rating/Contents: NC-17, possible consent issues
Pairing: Jennifer Lawrence/Michael Fassbender, surprise pairing
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: Once again it is Lawbender Frigday, the day when I examine how my life choices led me to this point. So, just like every day.
Michael is incredibly bored, and it is pretty much his own fault. Some people went out to dinner, but call is early tomorrow, so he had no particular inclination to do anything. That was an error in judgment; he's basically been sitting here twiddling his thumbs for the last half-hour.
There's a knock on his door, and he all but bolts to answer it. It's Jennifer, and he is intensely glad to see her. "Hey," he says, smiling, opening the door wider to let her in. "Did you finish it?"
There's sometimes nothing to do but read, and that in itself gets a little tedious at times if he doesn't have anyone to talk to about what he's reading. Jennifer's the only person who'll participate; James, in his polite and charming way, has basically told him that he has bad taste, and nobody else seems to be interested.
But Jennifer doesn't say anything; just gets in his space, walking him backwards into the room. It's very odd, and he wants to laugh, but he kind of knows somehow that he's not allowed to. She's a head shorter than him, but she's still very intimidating right at the moment.
They're almost at the bed when she grabs him by his shirt and pulls him down, kissing him harshly. In his shock he almost forgets to even shut his eyes, much less contribute; it takes him a minute to catch up to what's going on. When his brain comes online, he slips an arm around her waist, stepping in a little closer.
No sooner than he's done it, she pulls away, and he stares at her, wide-eyed. "I didn't know you-"
She puts a finger over his lips, holding it there for a long moment; she's looking him straight in the eye, looking for something, he has no idea what. And then suddenly she shoves him, and he knew she worked out a lot, but she's much stronger than he thought.
The thought is not unattractive.
He lands on his back on the bed, and she advances on him, crawling up his body, pushing him further up the bed, far enough that she can straddle him properly. She bends down and kisses the absolute hell of him, her hands laced in his hair, and Michael does his very best to hang on.
This is completely unexpected and kind of strange, but he's not at all opposed to it; he pushes his track pants and his boxer briefs down, but she slaps his hand away before he can get it around his cock. She grabs both his wrists and pins him, kissing him hard as if to reinforce the point, and if that's how this is going to go, then he's got no problems with it whatsoever.
She lets his wrists go, but he doesn't move them, waiting for further orders. They're not forthcoming, because her attention is elsewhere now; she's got nothing on under her skirt, and she's grinding against him, wet against his cock. He wants to be inside her very, very badly, but he's going to have to stop this before it goes any farther. "Stop," he says, lifting his head, extremely unwillingly. "I don't have any-"
"Pill," she says, and her voice is dark and low, like this is really getting to her.
He puts his head back down again, shutting his eyes. "Then please don't stop," he says, and she laughs; then she's sinking down around his cock, tight and hot. He's gotten used to women being intimidated by his size, needing to get adjusted or at least needing a moment to gawk, but she's not hesitating at all, pushing until it's all the way inside of her.
He's not the least bit surprised when she starts fucking him hard and fast, because he has already figured out that this is definitely that kind of sex. It's really difficult to think when she's bouncing on top of him, her perfect breasts shaking every time she moves, but he's mainly wondering if this is a one time, get it out of the way thing or not. With any luck, he can talk her into more; the opportunity for really excellent, really convenient sex is too good to pass up.
All of a sudden, the door opens, and he freezes; Jennifer doesn't, because Jennifer is apparently way less shy than he thought.
He really doesn't want to look up and see who's caught them. They're not doing anything wrong, maybe a little sketchy, but there is never a good time or reason to get walked in on, especially when someone- essentially a coworker- who is considerably younger than you and whom you are not dating is riding you like a rented mule.
He finally looks up, and he knows immediately he shouldn't have.
Jennifer is standing there, gaping at the two of them.
She looks like she's going to speak for a moment, but then she stalls out; she tries again, and that doesn't work either. "I came to give you your book back," she finally manages, holding it out like a shield.
He can't talk for a while either, just looking back and forth between them, slack-jawed. "I would say that this isn't what it looks like," he says, "but I have no idea what this looks like."
"Yeah, I kinda don't either." She snaps out of her initial shock, tossing the book onto a chair and giving him a suspicious, angry look. "That's not some kind of sex robot, is it?"
All he can do is make inarticulate, perplexed noises of protest. "I don't- if they even have those, I hope they certainly don't make them of us." First he was just too shocked to do anything; now he's starting to get scared, because there is some woman on top of him, and she could be anyone, some deranged fan or something worse.
Before he can even push her away, she climbs gracefully off of him, standing next to the bed; she tilts her head and gives Jennifer an odd, inquisitive look, as if sizing her up, considering her, checking for defects- hers or Jennifer's, he's not really sure.
"Whoever you are, get the hell out of here before I call the police," Michael says, once he finds his voice again, but she just grins at him, a sly, self-satisfied grin that looks out of place on Jennifer's features, and then the most fucking bizarre thing he's ever seen in his life happens.
She becomes Mystique.
The effect, the scales flipping, is really cool looking, actually. He hasn't seen the CGI yet, which may not even be anything like this- but that is fucking nothing, because there is a fucking comic book character standing in his room.
She doesn't look like Jennifer- it doesn't look like Jennifer's makeup, more like Rebecca's, from what he can even remember right now, because everything is really confusing at the moment. Five minutes ago he was having- he thought he was having- perfectly good, totally normal sex with his co-star, and now this is happening.
He decides to do the part of this he can handle first, looking past what is freaking him out and focusing on what is just bothering him. "How did you even get in here?" he demands, looking at Jennifer.
"The door wasn't closed all the way," Jennifer tells him.
"So you just walked right in?" he says, gaping at her. "We can't have been silent."
"I peeked," she freely admits. "You have sex with the door open, you take your chances. But I wouldn't have come in at all if you weren't in here having sex with me."
"I can't really fault you for that," he says begrudgingly.
She crosses her arms over her chest. "So, what, you were just waiting for any chance to fuck me?"
He tries to be subtle about pulling the sheets over his lap; it just seems really inappropriate to have this conversation with his dick hanging out. "What are you angry about?" he says. "You came in here and wanted to fuck me! I don't want to not fuck you. I'm not an idiot."
"Play nice," Mystique says, and her voice is so strange, inhuman, hollow and rich at the same time.
"And you," he says, looking at her. "What are you even doing here?"
She shrugs. "Nothing better to do."
"How did you get-" Jennifer starts, but she presses her hand to her forehead. "Never mind, it's going to be comic book science, I'm better off not even asking."
"This reality is amazing," Mystique says. "You have a sort of fascination with us, don't you? And then there are all the other mutants from other books. I'd like to find the reality where they are." She looks at Jennifer inquisitively. "Why did you-" and she doesn't actually do finger quotes, but Michael hears them anyway- "'create' us anyway?"
"Um, well, it's this complicated allegory for civil rights," Jennifer says, looking a little flustered at being put on the spot, "but none of it is relevant to the fact that you are in Michael's room."
"I wanted to know if he was anything like Erik," she says lightly.
Michael isn't entirely sure he wants to know the answer, but he's just too curious. "Am I?"
She grins, wide and dirty. "Only in places."
In context, he's not entirely sure if he should be happy about that or not. "I'm not the only Magneto," he points out.
"You're the most attractive one," she tells him. "I like the old one, though. I spent a while with him. He reminds me of what Erik was like, right before he-" She stops short, swallowing, like she's suddenly realized what she's saying. "Died."
He's never thought about it, but if this stuff were actually real, then Mystique would outlive all of them. Despite the fact that she's a supervillain from a comic book who'd probably kill them both given half a chance, it's hard not to feel sorry for her right then.
Jennifer crosses her arms over her chest. "I still don't think you have a good reason for you to come to our dimension and start fucking unsuspecting people."
"Territorial," Mystique says, grinning. "That I recognize."
"Shut up," she snaps, looking a little embarrassed. She turns to Michael. "Aren't you angry?" she demands, and Michael thinks it over. Obviously he'd fuck Jennifer, or else he wouldn't have been supposedly doing it, and he'd picked Raven in the "Which Character Would You Do" conversation- at least once, it's been had several times. But the whole thing was done under false pretenses, and he didn't know Raven was an actual person, and the whole thing is getting very existential very quickly.
"I have no idea," he says finally. "I would have preferred a warning."
"I'll remember that next time," Mystique tells him, licking her bottom lip.
"Oh no you don't," Jennifer breaks in. "Take it to another universe. I mean, it would be really awesome to sit down and talk to you, but you need to go. You are way too dangerous to be hanging around here."
"Thank you," Mystique says, smiling, and Michael shakes his head. Leave it to Jennifer to be faced with an actual evil mutant and think she can just kick it out of her dimension, no questions asked. She's kind of adorable like that, not apt to believe that she can't rise to any challenge- admirable, as well as adorable.
Jennifer makes a shooing motion. "Go."
Mystique smiles, like she's too amused by Jennifer not to indulge her. "I know where I'm not wanted," she says, looking significantly between the two of them, and Jennifer blushes. "Maybe I'll be seeing you," she says, "or maybe I won't." She changes into a perfectly ordinary man, totally unassuming, completely forgettable, and just saunters out.
Jennifer whirls back around to face Michael, fanning her face with her hands. "Oh my god, that was really scary."
"It's fine," he reassures her. "I think." He frowns. "I hope."
She puts her hands on her head, covering her face with her arms. "I don't know if I hope that was all real or not." She peeks out at him from between them. "Did you say you'd have to be an idiot not to fuck me?"
"Yeah," Michael says, trying to sound like it's no big deal, like he goes around admitting that to people all the time.
"Interesting," she says, giving him a look. She shakes her head. "I'm going back to my room. If it turns out tomorrow that this actually happened and wasn't a weird dream one of us had, we should talk."
"I don't think that's a bad idea," he says, though he really has no idea at all how that talk is going to go, or even what it's going to be about. He smiles anyway, and it should not be this hard to act casual. "Plus we have to talk about what the hell happened at the end of that book."
"I know, right?" she says, sighing. She walks over, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek, something she does all the time, something she does to him all the time, but it feels a little different right now, particularly because he doesn't have any pants on. "Night."
"Night," he tells her, "Make sure the door shuts all the way behind you."
"Will do," she says. "And if I show back up before breakfast tomorrow, it is not me."
"Right," he agrees.
Her eyes light up. "What if we had a secret code phrase? Then you could always know it was actually me."
He shakes his head, laughing softly at her. "Just go to bed."
She grins at him, and thank god, it actually looks like her.
He likes it better.
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/402495.html.
comments over there.
Summary: Sudden doesn’t mean bad. Necessarily.
Fandom: X-Men: First Class RPF
Word Count: 2310
Rating/Contents: NC-17, possible consent issues
Pairing: Jennifer Lawrence/Michael Fassbender, surprise pairing
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: Once again it is Lawbender Frigday, the day when I examine how my life choices led me to this point. So, just like every day.
Michael is incredibly bored, and it is pretty much his own fault. Some people went out to dinner, but call is early tomorrow, so he had no particular inclination to do anything. That was an error in judgment; he's basically been sitting here twiddling his thumbs for the last half-hour.
There's a knock on his door, and he all but bolts to answer it. It's Jennifer, and he is intensely glad to see her. "Hey," he says, smiling, opening the door wider to let her in. "Did you finish it?"
There's sometimes nothing to do but read, and that in itself gets a little tedious at times if he doesn't have anyone to talk to about what he's reading. Jennifer's the only person who'll participate; James, in his polite and charming way, has basically told him that he has bad taste, and nobody else seems to be interested.
But Jennifer doesn't say anything; just gets in his space, walking him backwards into the room. It's very odd, and he wants to laugh, but he kind of knows somehow that he's not allowed to. She's a head shorter than him, but she's still very intimidating right at the moment.
They're almost at the bed when she grabs him by his shirt and pulls him down, kissing him harshly. In his shock he almost forgets to even shut his eyes, much less contribute; it takes him a minute to catch up to what's going on. When his brain comes online, he slips an arm around her waist, stepping in a little closer.
No sooner than he's done it, she pulls away, and he stares at her, wide-eyed. "I didn't know you-"
She puts a finger over his lips, holding it there for a long moment; she's looking him straight in the eye, looking for something, he has no idea what. And then suddenly she shoves him, and he knew she worked out a lot, but she's much stronger than he thought.
The thought is not unattractive.
He lands on his back on the bed, and she advances on him, crawling up his body, pushing him further up the bed, far enough that she can straddle him properly. She bends down and kisses the absolute hell of him, her hands laced in his hair, and Michael does his very best to hang on.
This is completely unexpected and kind of strange, but he's not at all opposed to it; he pushes his track pants and his boxer briefs down, but she slaps his hand away before he can get it around his cock. She grabs both his wrists and pins him, kissing him hard as if to reinforce the point, and if that's how this is going to go, then he's got no problems with it whatsoever.
She lets his wrists go, but he doesn't move them, waiting for further orders. They're not forthcoming, because her attention is elsewhere now; she's got nothing on under her skirt, and she's grinding against him, wet against his cock. He wants to be inside her very, very badly, but he's going to have to stop this before it goes any farther. "Stop," he says, lifting his head, extremely unwillingly. "I don't have any-"
"Pill," she says, and her voice is dark and low, like this is really getting to her.
He puts his head back down again, shutting his eyes. "Then please don't stop," he says, and she laughs; then she's sinking down around his cock, tight and hot. He's gotten used to women being intimidated by his size, needing to get adjusted or at least needing a moment to gawk, but she's not hesitating at all, pushing until it's all the way inside of her.
He's not the least bit surprised when she starts fucking him hard and fast, because he has already figured out that this is definitely that kind of sex. It's really difficult to think when she's bouncing on top of him, her perfect breasts shaking every time she moves, but he's mainly wondering if this is a one time, get it out of the way thing or not. With any luck, he can talk her into more; the opportunity for really excellent, really convenient sex is too good to pass up.
All of a sudden, the door opens, and he freezes; Jennifer doesn't, because Jennifer is apparently way less shy than he thought.
He really doesn't want to look up and see who's caught them. They're not doing anything wrong, maybe a little sketchy, but there is never a good time or reason to get walked in on, especially when someone- essentially a coworker- who is considerably younger than you and whom you are not dating is riding you like a rented mule.
He finally looks up, and he knows immediately he shouldn't have.
Jennifer is standing there, gaping at the two of them.
She looks like she's going to speak for a moment, but then she stalls out; she tries again, and that doesn't work either. "I came to give you your book back," she finally manages, holding it out like a shield.
He can't talk for a while either, just looking back and forth between them, slack-jawed. "I would say that this isn't what it looks like," he says, "but I have no idea what this looks like."
"Yeah, I kinda don't either." She snaps out of her initial shock, tossing the book onto a chair and giving him a suspicious, angry look. "That's not some kind of sex robot, is it?"
All he can do is make inarticulate, perplexed noises of protest. "I don't- if they even have those, I hope they certainly don't make them of us." First he was just too shocked to do anything; now he's starting to get scared, because there is some woman on top of him, and she could be anyone, some deranged fan or something worse.
Before he can even push her away, she climbs gracefully off of him, standing next to the bed; she tilts her head and gives Jennifer an odd, inquisitive look, as if sizing her up, considering her, checking for defects- hers or Jennifer's, he's not really sure.
"Whoever you are, get the hell out of here before I call the police," Michael says, once he finds his voice again, but she just grins at him, a sly, self-satisfied grin that looks out of place on Jennifer's features, and then the most fucking bizarre thing he's ever seen in his life happens.
She becomes Mystique.
The effect, the scales flipping, is really cool looking, actually. He hasn't seen the CGI yet, which may not even be anything like this- but that is fucking nothing, because there is a fucking comic book character standing in his room.
She doesn't look like Jennifer- it doesn't look like Jennifer's makeup, more like Rebecca's, from what he can even remember right now, because everything is really confusing at the moment. Five minutes ago he was having- he thought he was having- perfectly good, totally normal sex with his co-star, and now this is happening.
He decides to do the part of this he can handle first, looking past what is freaking him out and focusing on what is just bothering him. "How did you even get in here?" he demands, looking at Jennifer.
"The door wasn't closed all the way," Jennifer tells him.
"So you just walked right in?" he says, gaping at her. "We can't have been silent."
"I peeked," she freely admits. "You have sex with the door open, you take your chances. But I wouldn't have come in at all if you weren't in here having sex with me."
"I can't really fault you for that," he says begrudgingly.
She crosses her arms over her chest. "So, what, you were just waiting for any chance to fuck me?"
He tries to be subtle about pulling the sheets over his lap; it just seems really inappropriate to have this conversation with his dick hanging out. "What are you angry about?" he says. "You came in here and wanted to fuck me! I don't want to not fuck you. I'm not an idiot."
"Play nice," Mystique says, and her voice is so strange, inhuman, hollow and rich at the same time.
"And you," he says, looking at her. "What are you even doing here?"
She shrugs. "Nothing better to do."
"How did you get-" Jennifer starts, but she presses her hand to her forehead. "Never mind, it's going to be comic book science, I'm better off not even asking."
"This reality is amazing," Mystique says. "You have a sort of fascination with us, don't you? And then there are all the other mutants from other books. I'd like to find the reality where they are." She looks at Jennifer inquisitively. "Why did you-" and she doesn't actually do finger quotes, but Michael hears them anyway- "'create' us anyway?"
"Um, well, it's this complicated allegory for civil rights," Jennifer says, looking a little flustered at being put on the spot, "but none of it is relevant to the fact that you are in Michael's room."
"I wanted to know if he was anything like Erik," she says lightly.
Michael isn't entirely sure he wants to know the answer, but he's just too curious. "Am I?"
She grins, wide and dirty. "Only in places."
In context, he's not entirely sure if he should be happy about that or not. "I'm not the only Magneto," he points out.
"You're the most attractive one," she tells him. "I like the old one, though. I spent a while with him. He reminds me of what Erik was like, right before he-" She stops short, swallowing, like she's suddenly realized what she's saying. "Died."
He's never thought about it, but if this stuff were actually real, then Mystique would outlive all of them. Despite the fact that she's a supervillain from a comic book who'd probably kill them both given half a chance, it's hard not to feel sorry for her right then.
Jennifer crosses her arms over her chest. "I still don't think you have a good reason for you to come to our dimension and start fucking unsuspecting people."
"Territorial," Mystique says, grinning. "That I recognize."
"Shut up," she snaps, looking a little embarrassed. She turns to Michael. "Aren't you angry?" she demands, and Michael thinks it over. Obviously he'd fuck Jennifer, or else he wouldn't have been supposedly doing it, and he'd picked Raven in the "Which Character Would You Do" conversation- at least once, it's been had several times. But the whole thing was done under false pretenses, and he didn't know Raven was an actual person, and the whole thing is getting very existential very quickly.
"I have no idea," he says finally. "I would have preferred a warning."
"I'll remember that next time," Mystique tells him, licking her bottom lip.
"Oh no you don't," Jennifer breaks in. "Take it to another universe. I mean, it would be really awesome to sit down and talk to you, but you need to go. You are way too dangerous to be hanging around here."
"Thank you," Mystique says, smiling, and Michael shakes his head. Leave it to Jennifer to be faced with an actual evil mutant and think she can just kick it out of her dimension, no questions asked. She's kind of adorable like that, not apt to believe that she can't rise to any challenge- admirable, as well as adorable.
Jennifer makes a shooing motion. "Go."
Mystique smiles, like she's too amused by Jennifer not to indulge her. "I know where I'm not wanted," she says, looking significantly between the two of them, and Jennifer blushes. "Maybe I'll be seeing you," she says, "or maybe I won't." She changes into a perfectly ordinary man, totally unassuming, completely forgettable, and just saunters out.
Jennifer whirls back around to face Michael, fanning her face with her hands. "Oh my god, that was really scary."
"It's fine," he reassures her. "I think." He frowns. "I hope."
She puts her hands on her head, covering her face with her arms. "I don't know if I hope that was all real or not." She peeks out at him from between them. "Did you say you'd have to be an idiot not to fuck me?"
"Yeah," Michael says, trying to sound like it's no big deal, like he goes around admitting that to people all the time.
"Interesting," she says, giving him a look. She shakes her head. "I'm going back to my room. If it turns out tomorrow that this actually happened and wasn't a weird dream one of us had, we should talk."
"I don't think that's a bad idea," he says, though he really has no idea at all how that talk is going to go, or even what it's going to be about. He smiles anyway, and it should not be this hard to act casual. "Plus we have to talk about what the hell happened at the end of that book."
"I know, right?" she says, sighing. She walks over, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek, something she does all the time, something she does to him all the time, but it feels a little different right now, particularly because he doesn't have any pants on. "Night."
"Night," he tells her, "Make sure the door shuts all the way behind you."
"Will do," she says. "And if I show back up before breakfast tomorrow, it is not me."
"Right," he agrees.
Her eyes light up. "What if we had a secret code phrase? Then you could always know it was actually me."
He shakes his head, laughing softly at her. "Just go to bed."
She grins at him, and thank god, it actually looks like her.
He likes it better.
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/402495.html.
