by Lara Wilson

She twists beneath the sheets, fighting the dream dream or nightmare, she can't be certain, as her life is a combination of both. His hands are on her, firm, knowing, and she turns into him, pressing her forehead to his chest. Heart beating beneath her ears, she listens for the thoughts.

And finds only blank space.

Her brow furrows in puzzlement, she tries to lift her head too heavy but can't. His hands glide over her, soothing and arousing wrong, they feel wrong. Desire unfurls in the pit of her stomach, joining with the lead weight she carries there her conscience never letting her forget her betrayal, bringing only the taste of acid to her lips.

She's so cold frozen, like ice and his touch isn't warming her or soothing her, just making her want. Her womb clenches, her teeth grit, and she can't restrain the moan of pleasure unwanted, undeserved, she's whored herself and doesn't know how to stop.

He croons her name. His lips hard, cruel passion touch her neck. She feels them part in a grin, his teeth scrape her sensitive skin. The hands caressing her, cup her hips, grinding her against him and she feels fine wool not denim or leather or cheap cotton covering iron, and she whimpers.

Confusion settles in startled nearly awake but the pleasure flowing through her veins like wet heat holds her fast.

She lifts her hands heavy, as if the weight of the world resides in them, places them on broad shoulders, feels muscles bunch beneath her nails claws as her knees weaken taking her down, down where she belongs.

The dream shifts and she feels the bed beneath her back and the man atop her, between her legs, but her eyes see nothing. Darkness enfolds her like a lover everything she is deep inside, soul shriveled, heart dead and she surrenders, moaning a name.

The darkness flees and eyes meet eyes amusement there, and lust and a hint of anger and she stares in shock.

"Scott?" Lips twist cruelly and he pushes into her hard, as if to punish her. "Scott will never truly want you, Emma. You're mine, doomed to Hellfire, just like I am."

The dream snaps apart, and she wakes, heart pounding, fear shuddering through her, wiping out the desire and the pleasure. A glance beside her brings momentary relief at the sight of familiar glasses hiding the deadly eyes of her lover, then sorrow swamps her.

It will all be over soon, her betrayal complete.

Sebastian is right.

Hellfire will never let her go.


Explanations for people who might have read this but have no clue about the X-Men or, in particular, The Astonishing X-Men: the one dreaming is Emma Frost. Emma is the White Queen of the Hellfire Club, and she's infiltrated the X-Men to help bring them down from within. Sebastian is the Black King of the Hellfire Club and in my mind the two have had a sexual relationship in the past. At some point Emma went into a coma and ended up joining up with the good guys, first as Headmistress of a separate school (at least I assume this happened in AX history as well as the main books) and now as Headmistress of Xavier's. Scott is Scott Summers, the boy scout, aka Cyclops (and if you've seen the movies, yes, that Scott Summers, the one married to Jean Grey, who, in the comics, is dead...again). Scott and Emma have been together for a while now, even before Jean died (at least psychically) which kind of spoiled the whole boy scout image but at least finally made Scott interesting. Emma's a telepath.

The Astonishing X-Men is in a different universe than the main books and is written by Joss, yep, that Joss. In the regular books Emma is not a bad guy who has infiltrated the X-Men. In AX and the above fic she is...or is she...

Joss is evil. This is a known fact.

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