Prompt: Nan tattles to Misty every time Cordelia thinks something dirty about her and finally Misty confronts her
The circle buzzed quietly, humming with small talk and gossip as the girls waited for Cordelia to begin the morning gathering. The headmistress had intended on starting as soon as all the girls arrived but her thoughts abruptly switched topics the second Misty Day strolled into the room. The girls voices's murmured in the background as Cordelia watched Misty take a seat, her eyes lingering inappropriately. Damn it Cordelia. Get it together—but God, those legs. No. stop. Cordelia opened her mouth to begin the meeting but her breath hitched in her throat when she saw Misty start to stretch. The swamp witch extended her arms, pushing her chest out in the process; a small moan escaping her from her lips as her stiff muscles loosened. Goosebumps arose on Cordelia's skin as she pressed her thighs together. Oh God. Her eyes hungrily raked over taut muscles as they contracted under Misty's shirt while the girl stretched. The headmistress wanted to take her right there and then, to press her up against the couch and feel those muscles tense against her own. But she couldn't. So she continued to stare unabashedly, unable to forget the sound Misty had just made and completely overwhelmed by how badly she wanted to hear it over and over. If she imagined hard enough, she could almost replicate the sound. Her mind wandered off and soon, Cordelia could practically taste Misty, see her panting, and whimpering, feel the girls finger's scratch at her scalp and tangle in her hair.
"Miss. Cordelia?" Nan's voice ripped her away from her thoughts, "will we be starting soon?" The headmistress was brought back to reality, quickly noticing that the girl's talking had ceased completely and all eyes were focused on her expectantly.
"Oh, uhm, yes of course, I'm sorry." Her face was flushed as she smoothed out her blouse and flicked her hair nervously, clearly hot and bothered. "Let's begin with our usual progress reports. Queenie, you can go first." The girls droned on as usual and despite her best attempt to focus on the meeting, Cordelia constantly found her eyes wandering back to the swamp witch. She watched Misty chew on her bottom lip; the girl anxiously awaiting her turn to speak. Those damn lips, what I wouldn't do to—
Nan cleared her throat, drawing Cordelia's attention, and narrowing her eyes at the headmistress.
Oh shit. The older witch felt heat clawing up her neck, completely mortified, as she could tell her thoughts were being invaded. She was so swept up in her fantasies that she had forgotten Nan could easily hear her thoughts. The chair creaked as Cordelia began to shift nervously under the weight of Nan's glare. What do I do? Shit. Shit. Shit. Do something quick. "Girls," the headmistress cut off Queenie mid-speech," I'm sorry but I'm going to have to stop the meeting for today. I forgot I uhm, erm have a meeting I have to attend to." She spoke frantically, nearly fanning herself to defend against the blush that was spreading like wild fire, burning up her porcelain complexion.
"Are you okay Miss. Cordelia?" Misty questioned, concerned by Cordelia's outburst, "Ya look a little bothered."
"Yea, Miss. Cordelia, you do look a little bothered, are you alright?" Nan mimicked Misty, smirking knowingly and struggling to suppress her laughter.
"Um yes, I'm fine. Thank you. We will continue this meeting tomorrow." Cordelia gathered herself and hurried to escape the room, feeling Nan's gaze burn into her back as she left.
The headmistress retreated to her room, the hardwood floor groaning under her continuous and anxious pacing. What the fuck do I do? What if she tell's Misty? No, she would never. It's bad enough that Nan knows. You really fucked up Cordelia, just because you couldn't keep it in your pants. She's your student for christ's sake. The older witch sat down onto her bed, holding her head in her hands, unable to fathom how she would even begin to deal with the troublesome clairvoyant.
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Misty ambled into the living room, plopping on the couch as Nan flicked through the channels absently. "Whatcha watchin?
"Nothing really, just scrolling. Anything you wanna watch?" The screen flickered with each change of the channel, illuminating their faces.
"Nah, I'm just waitin' for Miss. Delia to come down, it's 8 o'clock and that's gardenin' time. I was waitin' in the greenhouse but she's a little late and I got bored."
"Sorry to break it to you, but I don't think she's coming down tonight." Nan snickered as she spoke, her nose scrunching and eyes glinting mischievously.
"What do you mean?" The cajun's voice was filled with concern for the older witch, "Is she okay? Have ya seen her since she ran out this mornin?"
"No but I bet if she knew you were downstairs waiting for her, she would be down in a heart beat." Nan smirked as she bounced her eyebrows suggestively, nearly cackling.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Misty asked, slightly irritated and ready to defend her beloved friend's honor.
"You really don't get it, do you?"
Misty sat up and crossed her arms, arching a brow, "No. But clearly ya do. Why don't ya be so kind as to explain exactly what this it is?"
"Miss. Cordelia want's to fuck you." Misty gasped at the vulgarity of Nan's words and immediately blushed. The clairvoyant burst into laughter, tears welling in the corner's of her eyes, "That's why she ran away from the meeting this morning because she couldn't stop thinking about having sex with you and I, unfortunately, heard every single thing." Nan wiped at her eyes, her chuckling dying down into an occasional giggle. The cajun gaped at her sister witch, stunned. "God you should see your face right now." Misty covered her face, the heat coursing throughout her entire body was nearly unbearable. "I can't believe you didn't know. She couldn't keep her eyes off of you." More blood rushed to the swamp witches's face, her cheeks nearly sizzling with heat and embarrassment.
"Uhm," Misty finally croaked out, her throat dry, "I have to go, it's late."
"I'm sure you do," Nan hesitated, knowing she should stop but she couldn't resist the delicious teasing,"Say hi to Miss. Cordelia for me, will you?"
"Shut up. Ya don't even know what you're talking about. What a lousy clairvoyant and liar ya are." Misty grabbed a throw pillow and pelted it at a still laughing Nan. The younger witch simply winked response and continued to giggle as a flustered Misty left the room.
The swamp witch ran up to her room, desperate to get away from the taunting and laughter. She collapsed into bed, covering her face with her pillow and muffling the groan of frustration that vibrated up her throat. She couldn't get Nan's words out of her head. She's a dirty liar playin' tricks on ya and ya know it. Or maybe... No. The cajun shook her head viciously, as if to shake those thoughts out of head. She threw the pillow against the wall, willing the butterflies in her stomach to go away. Her entire life she was raised to believe it was wrong to want a women and even if she did want Cordelia, the headmistress couldn't possibly want someone like her— the older witch even had a husband at one point. Despite every voice that screamed Nan was a liar, a little piece of Misty couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, the clairvoyant had been telling the truth.
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The week dragged by, each day agonizingly slow as Misty tried her absolute best to avoid Cordelia. The swamp witch just needed it to be the weekend so she could get away to her swamp; the fresh air and plants would surely help her find relief. Until then, Misty was stuck in the greenhouse, tending to the plants that did nothing but remind her of what she was trying to forget. The swamp witch retreated to a stool, giving up on the wilted plant that sat on the table—no matter how hard she tried she couldn't bring it back to life. She sighed in defeat, laying her head on the table and trying to ease her mind. Her attempt at relaxation was short lived as the greenhouse door clicked open, her head raising off of the counter. Oh lord.
Cordelia walked into the green house hesitantly, fidgeting with her skirt anxiously, "Hey Misty. I'm sorry I, uh, haven't been down for a while. But I'm ready to pick up on our last lesson if you are?"
No. No. go away, I can't handle this right now. "Yea, sure. I've kinda been workin' on it a little bit by myself." She pointed at the dead plant on the table and laughed sheepishly at her failure, "It hasn't been goin' well if ya can't tell."
A giggle bubbled from Cordelia's throat as she tried to console the swamp witch, "It's not that bad Mist. You just need a little help, that's it."
"Ya look at you," laughter slipping from Misty's lips as she teased; the awkward tension melting away, "laughin' as you say that. Ya are such a bad liar Miss. Delia."
Cordelia grinned and shook her head, laughing as she walked over to the table, "The mixture on the roots looks good. Just try the incantation again?" Misty sighed and pulled the spell from her pocket, speaking the incantation reluctantly. The plant remained wilted, the leaves drooped and tinted brown.
"Woah, some type of witch I am." Misty's sarcasm was bitter, laced with frustration and exhaustion; she had been trying the spell for hours.
"Come on Mist," the way Cordelia said her name made the swamp witch shiver, "Stronger intent." Misty read the spell again, eyebrows knitted together in concentration. The plant sprung to live; the leaves transforming into a vibrant green.
"Will ya look at that?" Misty couldn't help the smile that crept across her face, "Guess I'm not too shabby, huh?"The younger witch waggled her eyebrows and nudged Cordelia's side, laughing as she did so.
"Meh, I've seen better." The headmistress grinned proudly despite her taunting; a sense of pride washing over her at how far Misty had come since the young girl first arrived. "Alright, enough gloating why don't you go get some more of that mud in the back for me?"
"Sure, but can I turn on some Stevie first?"
"Do I even have a choice?"
Misty smacked Cordelia on the arm as she passed her, sauntering over to the record player. The swamp witch glanced over her shoulder, sticking out her tongue at the headmistress before putting a record on. Her hips swayed to the song the instant she recognized it, "Kind of Woman," she murmured, not sure if Cordelia knew the song, "One of my favorites." Misty closed her eyes, letting the beat dictate the rhythm of her hips. She danced over to the mud, completely loosing herself in the song.
The headmistress swallowed thickly, intently watching the rolling motion of the cajun's hips. No Cordelia. Don't do this. You came down here to teach her, nothing else. Cordelia bit her lip, angry at her lack of self control. She couldn't stop staring, imaging the way it would feel if their hips were pressed together. Her teeth sunk deeper into her lip, nearly breaking the skin as Misty bent over beginning to scoop the mud. The headmistress squeezed her eyes shut, and let out a breath, silently chiding herself. But it was no use, even with her eyes closed, she could still see Misty's undulating hips. She pictured herself clearing the counter in one swipe, replacing the plants with Misty and fucking her right on the counter. God, that would be so hot. Cordelia let out a low groan despite herself, nearly able to hear Misty begging for more.
"Um, Miss. Cordelia?" The younger witch blushed furiously, "Are ya okay?"
Shit. Her eyes snapped open and she floundered, not knowing what to say. The older witch lowered her gaze, unable to meet the blue-green orbs in front of her. "I-I'm fine, yes." she stammered, "I'm okay but It's getting late. Uhm we can finish this some other time." She turned abruptly, clenching her fists in an attempt to stop herself from sprinting as she walked away. Once she was out the door, Cordelia ran to her room, passing a smug Nan in the living room. She glanced at the clairvoyant once but the shame that flooded throughout her forced her to break eye contact. The headmistress continued on to her room, taking the steps two at time, trying to put as much distance between her and the swamp witch as possible. Cordelia sank into bed, feeling completely out of control; she didn't know how long she could last without satiating the lust that burned within her. She shifted under the covers, her core aching needfully, every part of her body on fire. The older witch couldn't help herself, she thought of Misty; her pink lips and the way they would part slightly when she cried out Cordelia's name. Fuck. The older witches's fingers snaked through the sheets, searching for the only thing that could bring her any form of relief.
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Misty stood in place, paralyzed even after the headmistress had left. She needed answers and she needed them now. The cajun left the greenroom, unwillingly searching for Nan, knowing that despite the clairvoyant's complacency, she would know exactly what Cordelia was thinking. She roamed through the dark halls, unable to find Nan until she slammed into her accidentally. "What the hell?" Misty pushed back the figure until she saw it was exactly who she was looking for, "Nan!"
"Shut up Misty. Let me talk. You need to go upstairs and deal with Cordelia." Nan pushed her finger into the cajun's chest then pointed towards the steps, "She won't shut up. I can hear her even through my head phones. She won't stop thinking about you naked and I really don't need that when I'm trying to sleep." Misty's mouth hung open, completely taken aback by Nan's proposition.
"How is that my fault and what exactly am I supposed ta do about it?"
"Don't even act like you don't know what I'm talking about and don't act like you don't want to. I'm a clairvoyant remember?" The swamp witch, blushed, embarrassed at how right Nan was; she did want the headmistress. "That's what I thought," she smiled arrogantly, "Now go."
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Cordelia threw her head back on the pillow, her hips rising up to meet her fingers. "Fuck," she puffed out, her chest heaving. The older witch squeezed her eyes shut and her lower muscles tightened; a touch away from her release when the sound of a knock echoed throughout her room. Her fingers faltered but didn't stop, "Go away," she called out, not caring who it was—she was too close.
"Delia. Open the door."
Just the sound of Misty's voice threw Cordelia over the edge, her back arching as she involuntarily cried out the swamp witches name.
Misty gasped on the other side of the door, "Oh my god. Miss. Cordelia, did you just?" The younger witches's heart beat in her chest, hearing Cordelia say her name so intimately made her dizzy with want.
"No," she groaned, her high vanishing almost immediately as she thought about what had just happened, "Just go away Misty, please." She hid her face despite the face that she was the only one in the room; shame washing over her.
"Open this damn door right now." There was something in to the tone of the younger witches's voice that Cordelia felt the need to obey. She got up, hesitating before the lock clicked and the door swung open. The headmistress opened her mouth to offer any excuse she could think of but her tongue was laden, stuck in her mouth. The two stared at each other, teetering on a line neither had the audacity to cross. The air was heavy with a palpable sense of want; the tension heightening when Misty's eyes flickered up and down Cordelia's frame, practically egging her on.
The headmistress broke the silence first, "Look Misty, I-I—" she struggled to find her words with the swamp witch staring at her lips. Misty leaned forward slowly, time seeming to freeze as their faces were mere inches away; the distance begging to be broken. The Cajun licked her dry lips, her eyes glazed over as her hands moved to tangle in the sensitive hairs on the back of Cordelia's neck. She pulled forward, gently coaxing the older witch towards her until the distance became too much and crushed their lips together. The kiss was anything but gentle—it was aggressive and hungry, fueled by the sudden explosion of pent up emotions.
The younger witch pulled away first, breathing heavily "Nan told me," she spoke quickly between kisses, "everything." The older witch crushed their lips together again, her hands gripping the very hips she dreamed about. Misty pulled away once more, "And—."
"Shut up," Cordelia growled, "I don't want to talk. I want to touch you." The headmistress had wanted this for so long and she couldn't wait any longer, not with the swamp witch standing before her. Something primitive had awakened within her and she wasn't going to stop until Misty couldn't take anymore.
"No." Misty bit the other's lip harshly. "Before I let ya touch me," she leaned closer, kissing a trail to Cordelia's ear, "I want ya to tell me exactly what you wanted to do to me in the greenhouse and at morning gathering."
The headmistress groaned; the way the Cajun spoke was driving her absolutely wild. "Well," she pressed a quick peck to Misty's lips, "I wanted to do this." Her hands slide down the younger witches's lower back until they reached her ass, squeezing roughly. The beginning of a moan fell from the cajun's lips; the sound hitting Cordelia straight in her core as she muffled it with her mouth. The headmistress walked Misty towards the end of her mattress, their lips only separating when she pushed the younger witch onto the bed. Misty opened her mouth to speak but Cordelia cut her off, "No more talking unless you're yelling my name, okay?" The cajun witch eye's widened and she nodded dumbly, nearly trembling with anticipation. The older witch took a moment to appreciate the witch laying in front of her, loving the way Misty's face and chest was flushed with desire. It almost felt unreal, Cordelia had thought about this very moment so often and here the Cajun was, so ready and eager, her chest practically heaving. The headmistress locked eyes with a squirming Misty, caught off guard by the depth of the desire swimming in the swamp witches's blue-green eyes.
Misty stared fiercely back Cordelia, her shallow breathing filling the room, "Please." The single word that tumbled from the other witches's mouth reminded Cordelia why she was here— she would admire Misty later, when the girl wasn't begging for her touch.
The headmistress climbed onto the bed, straddling Misty, whom immediately ground her hips up into the older witch. Cordelia's eyes fluttered shut as she let out a low groan, grasping onto Misty's hips as they continued to rock. She was completely enthralled by the desperation and want that oozed out of the witch beneath her. Cordelia's hands released their death grip on Misty's hips and slowly crawled under the cajun's shirt, tickling ivory skin. Her finger tips danced over the muscles there, creeping up towards Misty's breasts.
It was too slow; the Cajun grabbed Cordelia's wrists and forcibly placed the older witches's hands on her chest. The headmistress began to massage Misty's breasts at a cruelly slow pace causing the swamp witch to whine needfully. The sounds that slipped from Misty's lips drove Cordelia insane; it made the headmistress want to take all night—to bring Misty to such a state of arousal that the young witch wouldn't even be able to breath. Misty's hips jarred into her own when she rolled an aching nipple between her fingers, pinching ever so slightly.
"Cordelia," Misty breathed her name out like a prayer, "I need more." The swamp witch wasn't exaggerating, her entire body was aching painfully. She opened her mouth to reiterate but Cordelia silenced her with a deep kiss and removed Misty's shirt. The older witch dipped her head towards the Misty's chest, peppering kisses all around the flesh, nipping here and there before she wrapped her lips around a pebbled nipple. The swamp witch cried out, her hands groping at Cordelia when the older witch raked her teeth over the sensitive flesh. Misty tangled her hand's in the older witches's hair, completely fed up with the agonizingly slow pace. She pushed against Cordelia's head, forcing her lover to bring her mouth elsewhere.
The headmistress laughed at Misty's eagerness, relishing in the effect she was having on her. She kissed down Misty's quivering stomach until she reached a barrier of clothing. Misty raised her hips, allowing the older witch to remove her skirt and leave her completely bare except for plain panties. Cordelia brought herself back up to rose-tinted lips, kissing them passionately as she slipped her hand into Misty's damp underwear.
"Mist, holy shit," Cordelia groaned, "you're so wet." Misty gnawed on her bottom lip, nodding vigorously, too desperate to be embarrassed by her obvious need. She insisted against Cordelia's hand, whimpering softly when the older witch touched anywhere near her clit. She was wound so tightly that if Cordelia kept touching her, she didn't think she could last much longer. Her hips ground erratically into the headmistress's hand, her breath coming in short pants. Cordelia could tell the swamp witch was close so she pulled her hand away; Misty deserved more than just friction.
The younger witch keened at the loss of contact, her eyes glowing with anger and desire. "Cordelia," she growled, "Quit teasin'."
Cordelia grinned wickedly, unfazed by the swamp witches's anger, "Raise your hips." Misty tried her best to act angry but the way her hips shot up almost instantly gave her away. The older witch hooked her finger's into the waistband of Misty's underwear, dragging the garment down until it met up with the dress on the ground. Cordelia ran her hands up and down the inside of the younger witches's thighs, scratching and pinching at the sensitive skin. The headmistress scooted down, settling herself between toned thighs, her breath hot against Misty's center. Cordelia wanted to keep teasing the swamp witch, but Misty, the witch she had lusted after for months, was right in front of her, wet and whimpering her name. It was too much; Cordelia let her lust take over as she fully immersed herself in Misty's center.
The swamp witch responded immediately, her hands gripping the sheets as her hips writhed against Cordelia's mouth. "Oh my god Cor—" She cut herself off, a moan erupting from her throat as the older witch slipped in two fingers into where she ached the most. Misty was already tight around Cordelia's fingers, her insides throbbing, on the brink of an orgasm. "P-please," Misty was whining now, her voice octaves higher, "oh god, don't stop." The moment the headmistress curled her fingers, Misty threw her head back, her hips bucking uncontrollably.
"Say my name when you cum," Cordelia demanded, "If you don't, I'll do this all over again. ten times slower." Misty fell over the edge, her back arching at an impossible angle, Cordelia's name spilling from her lips. The headmistress had imagined this moment countless times but nothing would ever compared to the way Misty looked when she came. She sounded, tasted, looked better than anything Cordelia could have ever dream of and now that the headmistress had her, she didn't think she could ever let her go.