Magica de Spell (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
blackmagicduck) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
happilyeverbeginning2019-04-15 01:54 am
blackmagicduck) wrote in happilyeverbeginning2019-04-15 01:54 am
Entry tags:
A "Resonance" Stronger Than Words (scrooge x magica)
Scrooge was grateful for night to fall, because it meant the day was over, and soon it would be tomorrow, and that would be a day closer to getting over... it. And he was positive he would get over it, but the sooner the better. Even now it was difficult to look at Magica, not that there was to much to look at right now - she was in those frumpy pajamas that she got on sale (at his insistence) and heading to her room with a book, grumbling about this and that.
It appeared she was still clueless about what she'd done to him, and there was simply no way to tell her without making things worse. It was her own fault, he insisted. She was the one who was supposed to be learning about Weapons and Meisters, so it should have known from day one that Weapons could still feel things even in their Other Form.
WHY THE FUCK DID SHE HAVE TO LICK HIM?!
Was it a witch thing to do it after a perfect kill, or just a Magica thing? Either way, the damage had been done, and since then Scrooge hadn't been able to look her in the eye. Not even now, when they would at least say "Goodnight" to each other. She had stopped at her door, glancing at him, eyebrow raised, and he returned the look - but within seconds, he felt her tongue on him again, and was quick to force out a rushed "G'night" before sprinting into his room and slamming the door shut.
He thought he saw her face take on a pained expression, but then dismissed that notion, because there was no way Magica would ever be offended so easily. He took several hard breaths in an effort to calm down, and then shook his head. Yesterday, if someone had told him he'd be... well, licked, he'd assume the sensation would be wet and disgusting, like a foul-smelling dog slurping his face. But the actual act itself had been brief and very, very warm. For someone who was trying not to think about it, he sure was thinking about it a lot.
He just needed a good night's rest, that was all. In the morning, when plenty of time had passed, it would be easier to shrug it off and move on. There was no reason to think it wouldn't. They'd be back to their regular snappy routine and all would be normal in the world. Satisfied with this logic, he tucked himself into bed, and counted coins dropping into a piggy bank. One cent, two cents, three cents...
~*~
The sudden weight on his body would have woken him up first, if there hadn't been a moist sensation on his neck. His eyes popped open, and in one swift motion, he yanked the blanket off his body - and off of Magica's body too, apparently. "Ma-" He started to say her name and was abruptly stopped for several reasons.
First, the frumpy pajamas were gone, replaced by a silky white nightgown that accentuated her dark hair. Second, when she had pulled away from whatever she was doing to his neck, she was now sitting on his lap, and he was suddenly very aware of awake his loins were. Lastly, the look she was giving him wasn't confusion or pain or anything else she'd given him before. He didn't have a name for it just yet because he'd never seen it from her before, and it was oddly frighting... in a pleasant way. Her eyes were darker than night, and the smile she embraced was downright devious.
Eventually he found his voice again. "Magica, what the hell are you-" But this time she cut him off, merely by placing a finger to his beak.
"Ah ah ah." Even her voice was different, giggly and silky all at once. "Not so loud, Scroogie. We wouldn't want anyone overhearing us and interrupting our fun."
Scrooge intended to ask what that meant, but when she puled her finger back, he found he lacked the strength to speak. Or do much of anything, apparently. "Now then," Magica purred as she ran her hands over his chest, fiddling with the buttons to his nightshirt. "That little taste of you before was very nice... but... it wasn't enough. I'd like to find out what the rest of you tastes like." She licked her lips, and with a great, sudden, overwhelming force, Scrooge absolutely understood what was happening.
It was if the biological building blocks of his ancestors had tapped him on the head and reminded him how the male body was supposed to breed - no, tapped wasn't the right word. More like... being slapped senseless. Or hit by a truck.
His fingers clutched the bedsheets beneath him and he felt his heart beat so rapidly he was sure it would explode. "M-Magica," he struggled, his cheeks redder than the blood Magica had licked off him earlier. "I... you... We... shouldn't..." He knew what he wanted to say but his mouth couldn't form the sentence. Most of his motor functions appeared to be failing him.
"Where to start, where to start?" She mused, and instantly came to a decision. She leaned down, nuzzling his neck with her beak, and even though it was obvious what her next move would be, Scrooge could find no effort or will to stop it. Her tongue rolled on his flesh slowly, tantalizing every nerve there, and he felt his mind implode.
He'd never shown any interest in these kinds of acts before, although he figured he would have to eventually. He also figured it would be when he was an fully-grown adult and at the head of his clan, and thus would need a heir. With that in mind, he was able to focus entirely on his noble goals, and always assumed this would be the case. He wasn't your average hormone-riddled teenager, he was a McDuck, a proud one at that. And a McDuck didn't have any baser urges to give into.
That all went to pot when he felt Magica's mouth over his neck and begin to lightly suck, sending off fireworks inside his entire body, his hips thrusting without permission. He wasn't entirely sure what she was doing - or himself for that matter - and his hands shot up to grab her shoulders. It would have been natural to think he was going to push her away, but instead they did the opposite, and brought her in even closer. Now he was keenly aware of her breasts pushing into his chest, and was amazed he never gave thought to her having breasts before.
Now he felt her teeth on his wet skin and he didn't recognize his own voice moaning. Her mouth moved slightly, making an imperfect oval in the same area, and her breath was hot and sweet. When she began to pull back, panting like a bitch in heat, her hips rubbed up on his own and he was very sure she could feel him saluting her. "Where to next, Scroogie?" She crooned, hair falling over her shoulder, giving his beak a playful lick.
It was at that point Scrooge decided to just stop thinking, since it was doing him no good anyway. As a result, his body felt free to react on its own - he grabbed a fistful of her hair and slammed their mouths together. It hurt for a few seconds and that was forgotten when she jammed her tongue into his mouth and began making the most delightful noises. With every fleeting second he knew what he wanted, yet he only had two hands and one mouth so he couldn't do it all at once. He wanted to feel all of her, taste all of her, claim all of her. Her arms were around his neck and he fumbled in an attempt to touch her chest, amazed at how soft she could be. Even then, it wasn't enough, not even when their waists began to buck back and forth, not even when she yanked her head back to groan.
"Oh, Scrooge!"
"Scrooge."
"Scrooge, wake up, dammit!"
BONK.
Scrooge opened his eyes and saw the familiar colors of a textbook, although it was blurry since it was so up-close. He blinked rapidly, trying to process where he was and what was happening. When the book was taken back, he saw Magica - frumpy pajamas and all - standing at his beside, annoyed to no end. "Finally!" She snapped. "Do you have any idea how long you've overslept? And when you oversleep, I oversleep, because it's your job to wake me up! We're going to be late for class! Since when did you get so lazy?"
Magica was saying a lot of things and Scrooge wasn't hearing a word of them. Every time he blinked, Magica changed back and forth - the real one yelling at him, and the nymphet seducing him in what was apparently a very different dream than usual. He was suddenly extremely grateful for how thick his blanket was, or else she would have noticed he wasn't only thing rising up this morning. He did notice she had stopped moving her mouth, which probably meant she was waiting for a response from him.
Fight or flight instinct kicked in, and he chose flight.
"I get the bathroom first!" His voice came out squeaky, and in speed that would make a cheetah jealous, he bolted out of bed and rushed out of the room, not stopping until he was in their shared bathroom and the door was securely locked behind him. Once that was done, he stared at the door, the implications of the night setting in.
"Why!" he demanded of the gods, the universe, of destiny itself, as he began to thud his forehead to the wall, as if somehow that would push out the desire for his bitchy, lazy, manipulative, witch of a Meister. "Why, why, why!" What had he done to deserve this?!
It appeared she was still clueless about what she'd done to him, and there was simply no way to tell her without making things worse. It was her own fault, he insisted. She was the one who was supposed to be learning about Weapons and Meisters, so it should have known from day one that Weapons could still feel things even in their Other Form.
WHY THE FUCK DID SHE HAVE TO LICK HIM?!
Was it a witch thing to do it after a perfect kill, or just a Magica thing? Either way, the damage had been done, and since then Scrooge hadn't been able to look her in the eye. Not even now, when they would at least say "Goodnight" to each other. She had stopped at her door, glancing at him, eyebrow raised, and he returned the look - but within seconds, he felt her tongue on him again, and was quick to force out a rushed "G'night" before sprinting into his room and slamming the door shut.
He thought he saw her face take on a pained expression, but then dismissed that notion, because there was no way Magica would ever be offended so easily. He took several hard breaths in an effort to calm down, and then shook his head. Yesterday, if someone had told him he'd be... well, licked, he'd assume the sensation would be wet and disgusting, like a foul-smelling dog slurping his face. But the actual act itself had been brief and very, very warm. For someone who was trying not to think about it, he sure was thinking about it a lot.
He just needed a good night's rest, that was all. In the morning, when plenty of time had passed, it would be easier to shrug it off and move on. There was no reason to think it wouldn't. They'd be back to their regular snappy routine and all would be normal in the world. Satisfied with this logic, he tucked himself into bed, and counted coins dropping into a piggy bank. One cent, two cents, three cents...
~*~
The sudden weight on his body would have woken him up first, if there hadn't been a moist sensation on his neck. His eyes popped open, and in one swift motion, he yanked the blanket off his body - and off of Magica's body too, apparently. "Ma-" He started to say her name and was abruptly stopped for several reasons.
First, the frumpy pajamas were gone, replaced by a silky white nightgown that accentuated her dark hair. Second, when she had pulled away from whatever she was doing to his neck, she was now sitting on his lap, and he was suddenly very aware of awake his loins were. Lastly, the look she was giving him wasn't confusion or pain or anything else she'd given him before. He didn't have a name for it just yet because he'd never seen it from her before, and it was oddly frighting... in a pleasant way. Her eyes were darker than night, and the smile she embraced was downright devious.
Eventually he found his voice again. "Magica, what the hell are you-" But this time she cut him off, merely by placing a finger to his beak.
"Ah ah ah." Even her voice was different, giggly and silky all at once. "Not so loud, Scroogie. We wouldn't want anyone overhearing us and interrupting our fun."
Scrooge intended to ask what that meant, but when she puled her finger back, he found he lacked the strength to speak. Or do much of anything, apparently. "Now then," Magica purred as she ran her hands over his chest, fiddling with the buttons to his nightshirt. "That little taste of you before was very nice... but... it wasn't enough. I'd like to find out what the rest of you tastes like." She licked her lips, and with a great, sudden, overwhelming force, Scrooge absolutely understood what was happening.
It was if the biological building blocks of his ancestors had tapped him on the head and reminded him how the male body was supposed to breed - no, tapped wasn't the right word. More like... being slapped senseless. Or hit by a truck.
His fingers clutched the bedsheets beneath him and he felt his heart beat so rapidly he was sure it would explode. "M-Magica," he struggled, his cheeks redder than the blood Magica had licked off him earlier. "I... you... We... shouldn't..." He knew what he wanted to say but his mouth couldn't form the sentence. Most of his motor functions appeared to be failing him.
"Where to start, where to start?" She mused, and instantly came to a decision. She leaned down, nuzzling his neck with her beak, and even though it was obvious what her next move would be, Scrooge could find no effort or will to stop it. Her tongue rolled on his flesh slowly, tantalizing every nerve there, and he felt his mind implode.
He'd never shown any interest in these kinds of acts before, although he figured he would have to eventually. He also figured it would be when he was an fully-grown adult and at the head of his clan, and thus would need a heir. With that in mind, he was able to focus entirely on his noble goals, and always assumed this would be the case. He wasn't your average hormone-riddled teenager, he was a McDuck, a proud one at that. And a McDuck didn't have any baser urges to give into.
That all went to pot when he felt Magica's mouth over his neck and begin to lightly suck, sending off fireworks inside his entire body, his hips thrusting without permission. He wasn't entirely sure what she was doing - or himself for that matter - and his hands shot up to grab her shoulders. It would have been natural to think he was going to push her away, but instead they did the opposite, and brought her in even closer. Now he was keenly aware of her breasts pushing into his chest, and was amazed he never gave thought to her having breasts before.
Now he felt her teeth on his wet skin and he didn't recognize his own voice moaning. Her mouth moved slightly, making an imperfect oval in the same area, and her breath was hot and sweet. When she began to pull back, panting like a bitch in heat, her hips rubbed up on his own and he was very sure she could feel him saluting her. "Where to next, Scroogie?" She crooned, hair falling over her shoulder, giving his beak a playful lick.
It was at that point Scrooge decided to just stop thinking, since it was doing him no good anyway. As a result, his body felt free to react on its own - he grabbed a fistful of her hair and slammed their mouths together. It hurt for a few seconds and that was forgotten when she jammed her tongue into his mouth and began making the most delightful noises. With every fleeting second he knew what he wanted, yet he only had two hands and one mouth so he couldn't do it all at once. He wanted to feel all of her, taste all of her, claim all of her. Her arms were around his neck and he fumbled in an attempt to touch her chest, amazed at how soft she could be. Even then, it wasn't enough, not even when their waists began to buck back and forth, not even when she yanked her head back to groan.
"Oh, Scrooge!"
"Scrooge."
"Scrooge, wake up, dammit!"
BONK.
Scrooge opened his eyes and saw the familiar colors of a textbook, although it was blurry since it was so up-close. He blinked rapidly, trying to process where he was and what was happening. When the book was taken back, he saw Magica - frumpy pajamas and all - standing at his beside, annoyed to no end. "Finally!" She snapped. "Do you have any idea how long you've overslept? And when you oversleep, I oversleep, because it's your job to wake me up! We're going to be late for class! Since when did you get so lazy?"
Magica was saying a lot of things and Scrooge wasn't hearing a word of them. Every time he blinked, Magica changed back and forth - the real one yelling at him, and the nymphet seducing him in what was apparently a very different dream than usual. He was suddenly extremely grateful for how thick his blanket was, or else she would have noticed he wasn't only thing rising up this morning. He did notice she had stopped moving her mouth, which probably meant she was waiting for a response from him.
Fight or flight instinct kicked in, and he chose flight.
"I get the bathroom first!" His voice came out squeaky, and in speed that would make a cheetah jealous, he bolted out of bed and rushed out of the room, not stopping until he was in their shared bathroom and the door was securely locked behind him. Once that was done, he stared at the door, the implications of the night setting in.
"Why!" he demanded of the gods, the universe, of destiny itself, as he began to thud his forehead to the wall, as if somehow that would push out the desire for his bitchy, lazy, manipulative, witch of a Meister. "Why, why, why!" What had he done to deserve this?!