prisonbreak100
I've got a friend staying with me at the moment - she just broke up with her scary boyfriend and needed to get out of her flat - and it's great, but it curtails my abitlity to post stuff and generally live the online life that I usually indulge in. Of course, it's good to let real life intrude, but I do miss hanging out on lj more than I thought I would. She's gone out for dinner tonight with another friend, so I get to do a quick sneaky post.
This is one of my favourite stories that I've written for prisonbreak100, although T-Bag's not even in it that much. More like the idea of him ;). I loves me some Veronica/T-Bag...
Title: Pain
Character/Pairing: Veronica/OC, Veronica/Lincoln, Veronica/Ted
Prompt: 078. Where?
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sometimes even good girls are bad.
Author’s Notes: Oh, Veronica. You’ve got such excellent taste in men.
Warnings: masochism, sex
Pain
Carl Monteray, Sigma Phi Epsilon member, all-American hunk and Veronica’s on-campus boyfriend. The envy of all of her friends: navy eyes, blonde hair neatly arranged, and incredibly nice for a jock. So why wasn’t he enough?
Veronica felt sweat dripping down the back of her neck, the crappy dorm air-con barely touching the sweltering heat of a Texas late spring night. She stared at the blank screen in front of her, white light illuminating her idle fingers resting on the keyboard, a single light in the darkness of the otherwise unoccupied bedroom. She willed herself to write something, anything, about jurisprudence, anything to break the pale monotony of the empty page. She was supposed to be out with Carl, a nice dinner at a quiet restaurant in town, but taken a rain check, using this essay as an excuse. This essay that didn’t have to be handed in for a month and a half.
Her eyes strayed of their own volition to the phone beside her. It was so tempting.
‘Stupid!’ she whispered, and stared at the screen again. Little flashes of memories kept nudging at her unbidden. What it felt like to be slammed against the door of a seedy motel room, panties wet through, rough fingers in her mouth and clothing shoved aside, not even bothering to take anything off, unceremonious fucking that felt so good but hurt so much at the same time.
Veronica tried to tell herself yet again that it was Lincoln she was missing, his smell, the way he bruised her arms without realising, the sheer uncontained strength of him all over her.
It wasn’t, though. The man she wanted, that she’d picked up so unthinkingly in that dive by the freeway, he hurt her on purpose. When he bruised her it was because he liked to see tears start in her eyes. When he bit her it was a mark of ownership, and he always drew blood.
She squirmed. The phone was in her hand already, speed dialled, and at her ear before she had time to reconsider.
“Ronnie.” His voice like melting butter, dripping like her sweat down her neck and pooling in her belly. She could hear his lips curving around her name.
“Ted.” She couldn’t stand it, the need in her voice, it was pathetic how much she wanted him right that second. She knew he would only ask one question.
“Where?”
This is one of my favourite stories that I've written for prisonbreak100, although T-Bag's not even in it that much. More like the idea of him ;). I loves me some Veronica/T-Bag...
Title: Pain
Character/Pairing: Veronica/OC, Veronica/Lincoln, Veronica/Ted
Prompt: 078. Where?
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sometimes even good girls are bad.
Author’s Notes: Oh, Veronica. You’ve got such excellent taste in men.
Warnings: masochism, sex
Pain
Carl Monteray, Sigma Phi Epsilon member, all-American hunk and Veronica’s on-campus boyfriend. The envy of all of her friends: navy eyes, blonde hair neatly arranged, and incredibly nice for a jock. So why wasn’t he enough?
Veronica felt sweat dripping down the back of her neck, the crappy dorm air-con barely touching the sweltering heat of a Texas late spring night. She stared at the blank screen in front of her, white light illuminating her idle fingers resting on the keyboard, a single light in the darkness of the otherwise unoccupied bedroom. She willed herself to write something, anything, about jurisprudence, anything to break the pale monotony of the empty page. She was supposed to be out with Carl, a nice dinner at a quiet restaurant in town, but taken a rain check, using this essay as an excuse. This essay that didn’t have to be handed in for a month and a half.
Her eyes strayed of their own volition to the phone beside her. It was so tempting.
‘Stupid!’ she whispered, and stared at the screen again. Little flashes of memories kept nudging at her unbidden. What it felt like to be slammed against the door of a seedy motel room, panties wet through, rough fingers in her mouth and clothing shoved aside, not even bothering to take anything off, unceremonious fucking that felt so good but hurt so much at the same time.
Veronica tried to tell herself yet again that it was Lincoln she was missing, his smell, the way he bruised her arms without realising, the sheer uncontained strength of him all over her.
It wasn’t, though. The man she wanted, that she’d picked up so unthinkingly in that dive by the freeway, he hurt her on purpose. When he bruised her it was because he liked to see tears start in her eyes. When he bit her it was a mark of ownership, and he always drew blood.
She squirmed. The phone was in her hand already, speed dialled, and at her ear before she had time to reconsider.
“Ronnie.” His voice like melting butter, dripping like her sweat down her neck and pooling in her belly. She could hear his lips curving around her name.
“Ted.” She couldn’t stand it, the need in her voice, it was pathetic how much she wanted him right that second. She knew he would only ask one question.
“Where?”