happilyeverbeginning | i keep on fallin' [scrooge x magica]

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i keep on fallin' [scrooge x magica]

If Magica had a heart, it would've been beating rapidly. Though she had longed to be free of her shadowy prison for centuries, a part of her had given up hope long ago. Even now, with the last of the ingredients gathered, that part of her said something wouldn't work. Scrooge's power wouldn't be strong enough, she'd been trapped too long - and then there was the horror of what if it did work? Would she age rapidly into bones or dust? If she lived, would she be able to adjust in this world? Ultimately, she was more afraid this night than she'd ever been her entire long, long life.

That was probably why she was so silent, as the last of the candles were lit. Technically, everything was being set up perfectly. She stayed on the while, quietly observing, staying as still as she could. Surely something would go wrong. Scrooge would change his mind. They'd gotten an ingredient wrong. Something. Anything.

Of course, stubborn as she was, she wasn't going to tell Scrooge how she felt. Let him draw his own conclusions.

"Hmm..."

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Apparently, after centuries of being locked up in shadow, it made one more appreciative of people noticing her appearance.

She cupped his beak in her hand, and he shivered in response. Not because she was cold--he was used to that when she'd been made of shadow--but because the action had taken on a new level of intimacy with her having a flesh and blood body. He was suddenly keenly aware of the warmth of her skin and even the faint pulse of blood in her veins.

"...You weren't kidding when you said you were a knock-out," he blurted out, still a bit too disoriented to have much of a brain to beak filter.

"Flattery will get you everywhere."

One of the things that came roaring back to her body with a vengeance was what it was like to want someone. She had ogled Scrooge plenty as a shadow, but now she had blood rushing through her, a heart to beat, and places that were aching in the most pleasant ways. The sultry act was an excellent cover for her resisting the urge to tackle him down. An urge that was growing second by second.

"Now that I'm free, I suppose I should find some way to... thank you." She leaned in closer, leaving only a breath of space between them. Her fingers slid down his neck, playfully fiddling with the collar of his robes. "Any ideas...?"

There were several reasons why Scrooge had never laid with anyone before. First and foremost, he'd been constantly on the move and didn't have time to meet a "sweet little thing" to settle down with. (Getting rich hadn't meant he'd slowed down any either.) Second, prostitutes were an expensive and unnecessarily risky habit. Third, and most importantly, having someone living in your shadow made it difficult to swallow the idea of someone watching while you laid with someone else. (How his ancestors had managed to get past that awkwardness was anybody's guess.)

Besides he'd been too focused on his goals to really think much of the needs of the body beyond what was absolutely necessary. Now it all came rushing to him at once in a dizzying maelstrom, his heart pounding so loudly he was amazed she hadn't mention it. He swallowed, mouth bone dry, and his arms trembled from both the exhaustion of the spell and the long-neglected hormones that had decided to remind him that they were supposed to fit together in ways much, much different than a man and his shadow.

It was his bad luck that his tired arms gave way, and he yelped in surprise, instinctively reaching up to try and catch himself on the closest thing to him--her--as he saw stars from the back of his head meeting the floor. He hissed in pain but at least he stayed conscious.

Magica, she of much narcissism and self-importance, didn't quite grasp that Scrooge's movement was out of survival and not her own beauty. Instead she surmised that Scrooge had grabbed her and yanked her on top of him as a need to have her right that damn second.

Good boy.

"Oh, thank goodness, I didn't think I could do that much more foreplay." Without wasting a second, she grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him in for a hard, devastating kiss that she'd been needing for centuries. And gods help anyone or anything that stopped this - including Scrooge himself - because he'd been teasing her - albeit unintentionally - for years and she was NOT going to let him forget it! To hell with revenge, a blood feud, or embracing the sun on her skin for the first time in eons - she had never wanted anything or anyone so badly in her whole life.

He'd been starting to squeak out "foreplay?!" when she suddenly had her beak against his. The effect was just as dizzying as the initial rush of hormones, and every nerve ending in his body was attuned to her.

His rational mind panicked, drowning in the sensations. His sensibilities told him to make her get off, that she'd just gotten her body back and she was likely reaching for the first available body rather than any sort of real attraction. He should stop her from doing something she'd likely regret when the initial rush wore off.

'Oh really? How quickly we forget the wolf whistling, hmm?' the primal part of him purred with amusement.

He laid there, frozen, before he followed the mute internal command to relax. It wasn't as if she was a stranger, after all. Admittedly, she had all the power here and could make him do what she wanted even if he was physically stronger than her. (Or at least he would've been if he hadn't been so drained.) But did he really want to resist?

Slowly, with very little conscious thought, he pulled her closer to him, awkwardly trying to return the kiss but having no practice in this particular arena. He was as green as the first day he'd set webbed foot on that ship to America, but his clunky attempts at trying to reciprocate at least would show he didn't lack enthusiasm.

Had Scrooge voiced any of his doubts, he would have gotten a sound yelling before Magica remembered she could actually maim him now. As eager and desperate as she was for touch, she wouldn't have settled for the first man in her path. Most of her lust was, absolutely, definitely, because she was straddling Scrooge McDuck.

It was quite all right that he wasn't experienced - in fact, in a weird way, it added fuel to the fire. It meant that she was his first, in every which way, and even if after this they would part, he'd never forget his first. As such, there was a need to claim. This was her territory.

Her hips straddled him hard, almost plowing into him, fingers now grabbing feverishly at his clothes for the right damn buttons to get rid of.

He grimaced at the rough handling. He was going to be experiencing a whole new sort of soreness tomorrow; he could already tell.

And if she wasn't careful, she was going to tear the buttons off his clothing.

He removed his hands from behind her and instead grabbed her wrists gently-yet-firmly, using his thumbs to massage her palms. Partially it was to get her to stop tearing his clothes dammit and partially to introduce her to a new sensation like she was doing to him.

Primal instinct growled at him to reverse their positions, but he didn't have enough strength for that right now even as his nerves hummed with carnal desire.

At first, Magica jerked when she was grabbed. Oh, if he was stopping her now, he was a dead man! But within seconds she could feel what he was actually doing, and it was very welcome. Now that she was alive, all of her skin was sensitive now, needing to be reminded what it was like to exist. So even those soft, gentle motions had her melting.

It also led her to slow down, not stop, her hip thrusts as it was a nice reminder that he wasn't going anywhere and now they had all the time in the world. Gods, he just felt so good. Thank goodness she'd scared off all those women, if they'd gotten a taste of this, they'd have never let him go.

Slowing down was good. That way they both might be able to enjoy this if this was really what they both wanted to do.

He broke contact with her beak, leaning his head forward to burrow his beak into her neck feathers. His warm breath blew against her neck, allowing her to feel it just before he gently scraped his teeth across her skin. While Scrooge himself had had little interest in the pleasures of the flesh, some of the people he'd previously worked with--largely the other cowboys on the Chisholm Trail--hadn't had the same restraint and hadn't always been discrete with their partners. He'd found it annoying back then, and he would've liked to have had Magica around during that time so he'd at least have had someone to talk to instead of just overhearing and catching glimpses of his fellow cowboys' coupling.

The teeth trick he'd seen when he'd once been walking back from washing up in a river and almost stepped on Jonas and...what was her name? Betty? Bridget? Some lass he hadn't paid much attention to. He wondered if Magica would like it.

Though it was probably to Magica's benefit that Scrooge hadn't been aware that she'd put in effort to drive off any potential female "dance partners", so to speak.

There was no objection to the kiss stopping, mostly because Magica had been so consumed with it that for a time she forgot how to breathe. Having a flesh body again would take some getting used to. She hadn't expected the teeth, and felt a vibrant spark of electricity all the way down her spine.

Here she thought he'd be some innocent naive babe, but apparently not. With a low moan, her chest pressed into his. "Oh, do that again." It was small, but it was plenty.

Naive? Hardly. Just because he hadn't participated didn't mean he was entirely ignorant. Minding animals would've dissolved any sort of ignorance on sex he'd once possessed. That and he'd known from a young age how his sisters came to be thanks to the thin walls of their flat and a sharp enough mind to put the noises, his mother's big belly, and new eggs together.

She was more or less lying on him now, and her hips thrusting into his was starting to prompt him to reciprocate as much as he could. Some part of him cautioned him to not get too invested in that part or Magica would be sporting a swollen abdomen of her own in a few months, something he was sure she wasn't willing to do so soon after regaining a body if at all.

Instead, he focused on her neck, deciding to flick his tongue beneath those strange green feathers, getting a sample of her taste.

That earned him another moan, deep and guttural, almost panting. If every touch of his was going to send her into a frenzy, she was going to finish before he even got inside her, and she'd probably die of humiliation before she lived a full day. It was hard to think straight, but she had to make a token effort.

If he wasn't going to let her tear his clothes to shred, she could get a head-start elsewhere.She pulled back one of her hands to undo the clasp of her cape, mentally kicking herself for wearing the dang thing ages ago when now it was a hassle. Moving too much would stop Scrooge from having her neck - and she wasn't going to stop that if she could help it - so she made do with pulling her black sleeve off with her teeth. It helped quiet, but not deafen, the continuous noises coming out of her mouth.

Maybe it was because this was a brand new body, but she tasted clean with a hint of rich bitterness, like the dark chocolate he'd once gotten a piece of. While he had more of a sweet tooth than a love of bitter things, he had to admit he liked her taste.

As she started pulling off her sleeve with her teeth, a wicked idea formed in his head. With her straddling him, there was little he could do aside from bring up one of his legs just enough to brush the space between her legs (even if the skirt did cover that area) as he allowed his beak to wander down to her cleavage, and he licked at the skin beneath her feathers just below the fabric of her blouse.

Magica had been so focused on getting that troublesome sleeve of hers that she hadn't noticed his change of direction until HELLO - there was something like a mix of gasp and giddy squeak that came out of her. Dammit all to hell, if he wanted to slow her down, he was NOT doing a good job of controlling the fire.

"You, little..." She wasn't even sure how she was going to finish that thought. Maybe he cared about the condition of his clothes, but she sure didn't, grabbing her blouse and yanking it down to expose one of her breasts. Something might've ripped.

Edited 2018-09-10 23:11 (UTC)

He chuckled, and she likely could feel the rumble as he lazily set his throat against her breast, his beak pointed towards her ear.

"We don't have anything extra for you," he murmured, knowing she could probably feel him talking in addition to her hearing it. "Might want to be a little more careful."

"I have waited centuries for you," She meant to say "for this" and apparently hadn't noticed the Freudian slip. "So I don't care if I have to walk out of here with nothing but a few well-placed hickeys." Now that she meant. She'd long ago lost pride, why not make decency next?

Long as she was at it, might as well get rid of the other sleeve. "Don't you dare go easy on me."

He wondered if she meant that literally or figuratively in the sense of "I have waited centuries for one of your clan to set me free". Even odds either way.

"I'll try not to, but I've never done this before," he admitted. "That and I'm not sure you want to risk being the mother of the next generation of McDucks, do you?"

Edited 2018-09-10 23:42 (UTC)

And that... makes her stop. Not out of shock or horror, but mostly to pull back enough so she can give him a "are you for real" look, eyebrow raised.

"I am the Queen of the Shadows, all-power sorceress and most dangerous magic-caster that has ever lived. You really think I can't control a little thing like eggs?"

Honestly, Scrooge, that was almost insulting. "If you can't think of anything intelligent to say with that mouth of yours, I have a much better use for it." He didn't think she'd stop insulting him just because they were getting intimate, right? She grabbed his cheeks, ashing his mouth with her own again, jabbing her tongue in deep.

He rolled his eyes at the insults, well-used to them right now. Sometimes it was better to just let her get it out of her system rather than fight about it.

Besides, it wasn't like he'd ever thought to ask about that sort of magic. Her actually getting her body back had been a long shot.

He choked a little as her tongue went a little too far back, so he wrapped his tongue around hers to keep it occupied. The last thing he wanted was for her to trigger his gag reflex.

At the same time, he blindly groped for her breast, squeezing it perhaps a little too hard in the process. She was surprisingly soft.

Now this was a much better distraction. Playing with his tongue was its own game, eager to relearn just how it could move and taste. Her annoyance was snuffed out like a wet candle, cradling his head in her arms. She didn't even fight the painful squeeze to her breast - after being deprived of all her senses for so long, even pain was something to enjoy. She wanted anything to remind her that was alive.

One of her legs rubbed up alongside his, her dress beginning to ride up.

A more experienced man probably could've hit the proverbial bull's eye in their current arrangement, but the inexperienced Scrooge certainly couldn't. Though he used his own leg to encourage her skirt to ride up higher, he wasn't able to do much more than brush against her privates. He wasn't intending to tease, but trying to do this from beneath her wasn't as simple as some of his glimpses of the other cowboys had led him to believe.

Still, he ran his hands along her form, sliding them beneath her blouse to feel more of the shape he'd seen the shadow of before.

Magica could have easily believed teasing or intentional, it didn't really matter here or now. What mattered now was that she'd been touched in a place that hadn't even been felt too often when she was alive, and it needed to keep happening. She'd hate herself later for showing any signs of weakness, but she couldn't help but let out an absolutely feminine whine, breaking her mouth back to breath.

"Oh, gods, I need to be touched." Yes, he was already touching her, and probably couldn't do much more than that at this given moment, but she was (almost literally) a bitch in heat and was about to lose her mind.

Well, the lady did ask.

He buried his beak in her neck again, scraping teeth against her skin and sampling her taste with his tongue. He admired her shape with his hands, the well-formed body feeling just as attractive as it looked. All the while, he continued brushing at that one spot, trying to make proper contact but not managing it.

Well, perhaps the theoretical next time when he wasn't drained from a massive spell and in a better position would bring him better luck on that last part.

Magica voice her agreement "Yes," with every breath, "Yes", getting louder and louder with every passing moment, "Yessss..."

She pressed his head into her neck, wanting him to devour every inch of her until nothing was left. He just didn't have enough hands or mouths to get all of her at once, which was so unfair. There were probably plenty of spells to fix that problem, but it might've been a mood killer. She'd have to settle for what he had.

Then again, judging from the size she was feeling down there, he might be more than she could handle. Gods, wouldn't that be fantastic.

Thank God she wasn't willing to transform him into some sort of abomination. "Mood killer" would've been a massive understatement.

It was by pure luck he actually managed to properly hit the target. He grunted as he shifted his hips, trying to get in just the right alignment and maneuver himself so she could feel more of him and he of her.

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