A/N: This is the fic I've been meaning to edit for almost a month. I was clearly messing with some prompts but this time I tried to go easy on the angst and emotionality and focus on the smut (more or less). I thought it was time to write Griffin as the initiator/top.
CW: explicit sexual content, teasing
Griffin emerged in the doorway to the kitchen, a light dress–by her standards anyway–thrown over her sleep-laden frame. It was a rare occurrence for her to be the one waking up to breakfast and Faragonda savored it while she could. She just wished she could mark the occasion better.
"I'm all out of tea." She looked if she'd need to catch Griffin's lips in a kiss the moment the corners of her mouth dropped under the disappointing news.
"I can do with coffee," Griffin leaned on the door frame, gaze pinned on Faragonda like she was a rare flower that would run away without the light of Griffin's eyes. "This time."
Faragonda would be running to the store as soon as breakfast was eaten and her legs were no longer made of jello. "How do you take it?" She almost knocked down the sugar in her instinctive search for the honey.
"As dark and bitter as my soul." The curve of Griffin's lips soothed the alarm rising inside her. They were good. Good and dramatic.
"So pink and sparkly then?" Faragonda tapped the mug before offering it to Griffin, the swishing liquid inside changing colors faster than Griffin pushed herself off the door frame.
"Did you just call me a fairy?" The steam from the coffee swirled around Griffin, swept by the flow of her magic.
Faragonda held the mugs close to her chest where Griffin wouldn't knock them out of her hands. "You are in love with a fairy."
"That's as close as I'm getting to one." It was hard to take in anything other than Griffin's breath with her face shoved into Faragonda's, the proximity speaking of the nature of the bite.
"There are fairies that are malevolent and cause trouble."
The coffee swirled, black again in both mugs, when Griffin extracted them from her grip and left her hands squeezing into nothing despite the witch's closeness. Grasping at her was all her mind and body were capable of.
Griffin set down the mugs on the table slowly without breaking eye contact. "If you were properly familiarized with a witch, you wouldn't argue. And to think you've been living with one for so long. I'll have to make you pay closer attention."
Faragonda was pressed between Griffin's body and the kitchen counter before she could utter a single sound of protest. The debate slipped away from her mouth with Griffin's lips tickling her cheek in a pseudo innocent smile tantalizing her. She was in for the long haul.
Her hands clamped down on Griffin's shoulders, the world crumbling under her feet when Griffin hoisted her up on the counter. Griffin's mouth was drinking in the erratic pattern of her breath in the hollow of her throat. Her hands only brushed over Faragonda's breasts resisting the temptation to study their rhythm of rising and falling. Instead, her fingers traced between, her magic making the buttons on Faragonda's shirt pop open to expose the skin underneath to Griffin's kisses.
She trailed a heated path down to the waistline of Faragonda's skirt. The fabric dissolved in the magic of her touch to let her trace feather-light caresses with her fingertips over Faragonda's excited flesh.
She bucked into Griffin's palm when the witch hooked a finger under the waistband of her panties. She'd scratched her sensitivity raw with her phantom strokes. She needed a firm touch, as strong as her tugging on Griffin's dress, useless as it was with her magic out of reach and Griffin so firmly grounded in driving her wild with yearning.
Faragonda wrapped her legs around Griffin's waist. "Griffin, please." She swallowed the stillness of anticipation stretching around them like background music for her desire to drip to.
Griffin touched her forehead to Faragonda's, keeping her lips just out of reach. "Are you wet for me yet?" she left her panties alone instead of slipping a hand in them to check for herself. Her fingertips marked Faragonda's thigh with their gentle presence while her other hand pulled on the clasps of Faragonda's bra. She was disregarding her magic and her own desire to torture Faragonda.
"We're past that point," Faragonda rasped. She'd grind against her if Griffin weren't holding down her hips, a discreet hum slipping from her throat at Faragonda's eagerness. "What more do you want?" She'd offer anything even if she'd kept nothing to herself. All her need was on display where Griffin had pulled it with ease and no resistance from her.
Griffin leaned in against her ear, the breath from her parted lips becoming a shiver in Faragonda's naked being. "To remind you of the witch you're dealing with." She sucked on Faragonda's earlobe driving Faragonda's nails into her sides hard through the fabric of her dress. It drew a quiet whine between Griffin's lips, her voice prickling directly over Faragonda's ear and deep inside her.
"How can I forget?" Griffin was all over her, always. Her touch on Faragonda's skin, her heat in Faragonda's heart. Even dimensions apart, they were still each other's.
"I'll make sure you can't." The playfulness of Griffin's voice slipped on the raw note behind it.
Faragonda's love confession plunged back into her throat as she sucked in a breath in tact with her bra dropping off her shoulders. She hadn't noticed it springing free under Griffin's deft fingers but it stripped her thought away. All that was left was her exposed skin and Griffin's wet mouth sucking on one hardened nipple to tease her with an echo of the throb between her legs that were forced to release the witch and give her room to work.
Her breathing turned heavy with her breasts in Griffin's palms and the witch's wicked tongue stroking wet heat over her sensibilities slowly and purposefully. Her mind was slipping off the edge of the pleasure-torment Griffin was holding her on.
She slid a hand in Griffin's hair to tangle herself there, her fingers drawing a hungry moan that freed her nipple from Griffin's lips. Her hands stilled on Faragonda's chest, her mouth hanging open to let through her appreciation of the tugs and caresses to her tresses. Her eyelids shut in the brightness of her eyes as bliss took over her features. Her pleased purrs reverberated through Faragonda to feed the intensity of the want pulsating inside her. Griffin was tempting her without lifting a finger, the only thing rising the pitch of her voice.
Griffin's warm fingerprints on her hip startled her with the disappearance of her underwear. Another play of Griffin's that had slipped through her fingers in her distraction. And now the witch was following, dragging the wetness of her lips over her belly again and making the muscles underneath clench in anticipation.
Faragonda gave her the slack to drop to her knees but kept both hands in the purple locks to hold Griffin no more than an inch away from her body at all times. An inch away from where she wanted her was all Griffin left in the room as she paused. Even Griffin's breath was held safely in her lungs where it wouldn't disturb the loaded atmosphere and Faragonda mirrored her, stilling her hips as they strained to buck into the pleasure of Griffin's mouth.
In the quiet of the kitchen Griffin's magic hit like an earthquake shaking Faragonda's perception and making her stomach drop. They followed through the void of space to a cushioned landing on their own bed.
Griffin's tongue thrust inside her to fill her instead of disorientation. She gasped and trembled at the fullness, her voice strangled in the lack of oxygen in her lungs. Her eyes welled up at the sudden cut through the emptiness inside her only for the water to settle again with the retreat of Griffin's tongue.
"Your thighs are already shaking," Griffin was so close to her arousal her husky voice was almost muffled. Her fingers lazily drew patterns in Faragonda's thighs even though she didn't have to look to know the witch's eyes were darkened with desire to a perfect reflection of her own. She would torture herself just to torture Faragonda. To prove a point that had no place between them. Even with the emotional distance of fights they'd gotten into, it had never stood between them and would never get the chance.
"Don't tease me," Faragonda heaved, her grip on Griffin's locks tightening to cause a hitch in the witch's breath tickling her heated flesh.
Griffin had her moaning in return as she dipped her head in again to leave the wetness coating her lips over Faragonda's lower belly. "If you don't like my teasing," her teeth grazed the sensitive skin, "then why are you moaning?"
She flashed her a big, bright smile before her tongue darted out to lap at the place where Faragonda's thigh met her hip and she was lost. So close to the pleasure she wanted and so far away, wrapped in Griffin's presence all the same. Her fingers twitched in Griffin's hair, never tugging hard on it, just enough to hear a low groan from Griffin between her own even though she could pull Griffin to pleasuring her by the hair. She was all Griffin's to take at whatever pace her witch's heart was operating at.
A whine of protest tore from her to crash into Griffin where she was climbing up her body. Griffin's kisses appeased both her heart and the witch's agenda. She only writhed when her hands were pried out of Griffin's hair and pressed into the mattress. Griffin's body pinned hers down so there was space only between their faces. Space Faragonda strained to overcome to bring their lips together.
Griffin pulled back, keeping them apart far longer than necessary. "Careful now." Her voice was mellow again as if Faragonda's arousal had been rich honey in her mouth. "Once you taste my lips, there will be no leaving my world. That's the only way in which I could ever resemble a fairy."
Faragonda surged forward and captured Griffin's lips. The witch melted into her embrace that had always been saved for her.
