Give and Take | NC17 | The Devil Wears Prada/Bad Girls
Title: Give and Take
Prompt: lockdown
Fandom: Miranda/Yvonne, The Devil Wears Prada/Bad Girls
Requested by: kitnkabootle
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 676
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: I think a little someone has a kink for seeing Miranda in the slammer, huh? *eyes Kit* Again…I'm a little nervous about this pairing because I don't know Yvonne too well as I'm only part-way through season 2 of Bad Girls, so I hope I managed to work around that okay. This is meant to be set in late season 1 or early season 2 -- before Yvonne's husband gets arrested. Let me know what you think! Enjoy!
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The sounds of vacant screams echo off the walls, ring back, and fill your ears as if amplified in an opera house. The groaning of pipes contributes hauntingly to the sound of panicked voices like some sort of rich baritone. The caged bird sighs and sings quietly against your cheek.
You are not in an opera house.
You are in Larkhall.
You are lying beneath your cellmate, your legs splayed as you allow her to thrust her long, thick fingers inside of you. The stretch, the pressure, the very fact that she's within you-- it all makes you feel something you haven't felt in a long time.
Self-loathing perhaps? Or is it pleasure?
You don't know. It doesn't much matter as long as you convey that you've never felt better than you do right this minute. She needs to believe it. She needs to feel it and so you tuck your ankles into her backside and urge her deeper. She bites your neck and in turn, you scratch your nails down her back. She likes this because she hisses and bites again, muffling her groan into the crook of your neck.
It does feel surprisingly good; you have to give her credit.
Yvonne Atkins may have been dreadful at orchestrating a murder, but she is considerably adept when it comes to sex.
A loud clang sounds off in the distance, but you barely hear it as Yvonne's cries become louder. It's lucky, you suppose, that Larkhall is in the middle of a lockdown. Some twit -- on enhanced no less -- attempted to break out and somehow managed to threaten the life of a custodian.
Yvonne had been gripped with envy when you were locked into your cell. You can tell that she's just itching to get out of here. You can't blame her; prison is hardly a resort. However, unlike you, she's the type to foolishly attempt an escape.
You can't have that. You need her here.
Need. You like to think you're above such things -- that you don't need anything.
But you do.
You needed Yvonne Atkins before you even knew she was to be your cellmate.
The two of you are cut from the same cloth, really; you can't deny that. You're both used to being in charge. They must have placed the two of you together for their own personal amusement, assuming that two independent, dominant women would destroy each other in a violent, bloody cockfight. They look in on you frequently and to their dismay, you're both still perfectly intact.
You'd prefer to keep your distance but that has been made rather impossible under the circumstances. If only you had been more discreet when you attempted to kill your husband. If only you had shot him a millimeter to the left.
You never were a good shot. It's a shame that you didn't pay better attention when your grandfather attempted to school you in the ways of game shooting when you were a child.
You regret that Stephen is still alive and that you're here.
You almost regret using her this way.
She has something you need. She has Charlie, and for that you will swallow your pride and use her until she gives you what you need.
She tells you to come and you try to ignore the need in her voice, try to hold out until you're ready. It's just as well that you're ready now and you begin to clamp around her fingers. Your climax hits you hard and you enjoy it -- you can admit that it's never been like this before -- you sigh and ride her fingers until you collapse against the hard, lumpy mattress.
She's whispering things into your ear. It's your turn now. She likes it when you kneel between her legs and take her with your mouth.
You will give her what she needs.
Perhaps then, when the job is done and when Stephen is lying face down in the river, you will be able to get a decent night's sleep.
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