AN: This chapter has some trigger warnings, since Jack and Miranda get into an epic fight before they fuck. Just to be clear, these two have a unique relationship. Don't mistake this for condoning behavior that would, out of context, be emotional abuse. Anyway, they bring up some dark kinks in the middle of their argument. Don't try this at home with out a long discussion about humiliation kinks and headfucking. Enjoy the porn.
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Chapter Two
. . .
Miranda forced a smile as she double checked the hall, ensuring she hadn't forgotten to speak with anyone important. Even though she had already done a full three-sixty of the ballroom, she couldn't afford to miss any opportunities. Her political power and reputation had taken a dramatic upswing after the war, and the next time humanity's Council position fell vacant, she wanted to be prepared.
Unfortunately, her escort was not nearly so patient. Jack heaved a dramatic sigh, slumping her shoulders and shifting from foot to foot. Miranda stopped scanning the room and gave her a pointed look, resting one hand on her hip. "Well? What is it this time?"
"Can we bail yet? You've already talked to every fucking person in this room, some of 'em more than once."
Miranda's smile vanished. Her eyes narrowed and her polished fingernails dug a little tighter into her hip. "This is important to me, know that. Otherwise, you would have said 'no' when I asked you to come."
"But it's been forever! I saw Tevos sneak out half an hour ago! And just look at Shepard. She's eyeing T'Soni like she's gonna bend her over a table or something. They gotta be dying to get out of here." Jack pointed over on the other side of the room, where Shepard and Liara were trapped in conversation. Both of them appeared to be smiling, but Shepard's body language made it obvious she was eager to make a break for the door.
Although she found Shepard's discomfort mildly amusing, Miranda's frown remained in place. "I might be more inclined to listen to you if it wasn't the alcohol talking. Don't think I didn't notice you spiking your drinks at dinner. If you wake up with a headache tomorrow, it's your own fault."
"If this party wasn't so fucking awful, I wouldn't have had to get trashed," Jack mumbled. "Come on, Miranda, let's just go."
Miranda considered her options. Even though it would be giving in, a swift exit was wise. She didn't mind the sulking, the drinking, or even the snickering every time Councilor Douglas Fisterman's name was mentioned, but she knew Jack's body language well enough to recognize impending disaster. She feared what her partner was capable of alone, bored, and armed with a flask of ryncol. Jack had mellowed during their time together, but she was still the same woman wanted for crashing a space station into a Hanar moon. "Fine. We'll say our goodbyes."
"Fuck that. I'm not staying another twenty minutes just to say goodbye. Meet me at the car." Jack strode off without another word, and Miranda brought both hands up, rubbing her temples. If things continued as they were, she'd be the one with the headache. With a sigh, she started off after Jack, dismissing everyone she passed with apologetic smiles.
At last, Miranda entered the parking garage, heels clacking against the metallic floor. She caught sight of Jack immediately. The tattooed biotic was lounging on the hood of the car, looking bored even though she couldn't have been waiting for more than five minutes. "So, you've been even more of a bitch than usual tonight." Jack hopped down and opened the back door, extending a hand into the vehicle and giving a mock bow of chivalry. "Is it my birthday already? Or are you still pissed I made that crack about your ass getting bigger?"
Miranda pushed Jack aside, climbing into the skycar without so much as a glance in her direction. "Even if I explained my grievances to you, it would take a dozen children's vids and a song about getting along for you to understand."
Jack snorted. "Is that the best you got? Acting all passive aggressive an snippy all night, then bam. Fuck you, Jack, you're stupid?" She laughed, shaking her head as Miranda programmed their destination into the skycar. Thankfully, the back seat had a control panel. "If you're looking to get under my skin, you're gonna have to try harder than that."
"I'm not trying at anything. Contrary to your deeply held beliefs, not everything is a contest." Even as Miranda spoke the words, she knew they were a lie, but she cracked her neck and reclined melted into her seat.
Jack's chuckle trailed off. Her gaze set on Miranda, tongue rolling along her upper row of teeth. "So, you wanna skip the theatrics of a full blown fight and just go down on me now? Or wait 'til we get home? I mean, I'm good with either."
"No," she sighed, trying to hide a smile. As insufferable as Jack could be, Miranda had to admit her lack of social graces was sometimes endearing. Her appearance helped, too. She had grown her hair out, and her new, messy tresses were perfect for grabbing hold of. Her suit was tight across the chest, wide at the shoulders and poker straight the rest of the way down, giving her an air of careless distinction. Miranda was doubly delighted knowing the charade of class and manners was entirely for her. Jack would never even attempt to behave at such a formal event unless it was for her benefit.
"No? Now's good, then?" Mistaking 'No' and silence for 'Yes, please take off your pants', Jack craned her body upward and fumbled with her belt.
Maybe it was the total lack of respect, or perhaps the forwardness of the request, but something about the action lit a spark in Miranda. This was how Jack had been behaving all night. Carelessly. Thoughtlessly. Just a bit selfishly. And although Jack had many less than admirable traits, she had proven that she could be considerate as well as kind when she tried. Even if she feigned otherwise, Miranda was well aware that she knew better.
A thought tugged at her, only a passing idea at first, but growing more and more appealing the longer she dwelled on it. If Jack could be annoying tonight, so could she. Instead of complaining about Jack's attitude problem, she would adopt an attitude of her own. She already knew how to push Jack's buttons, and perhaps her behavior would even improve once she got a taste of her own medicine.
Miranda fixed her gaze on the opaque window separating them from the front of the skycar, refusing to turn her head. "Keep your pants on," she said, adding just a hint of disgust to her voice. "If you think I'm going to reward you for bad behavior, you've had more ryncol than I thought."
"C'mon, Miranda. I'm not a fucking varren. Quit talking about me like I'm some out of control pet that needs to be trained."
Although she remained facing forward, Miranda could feel Jack's eyes burning into her. The shift was so sudden and palpable that she didn't need to look. With one comment, she had changed the dynamic between them. It took some effort to hide her smile. "Then perhaps you should stop acting like one. Let's see? Inattentive, loud and messy in public, absolutely no patience..." She finally let her eyes slide over to Jack's lap, where her pants were still half-way unzipped. "Severely lacking in personal boundaries and unable to obey simple commands... Stop me when I reach something that attests to your humanity." Miranda paused and thought for a moment. "That explains why you get along so well with Eezo."
Jack kept glaring. "Right. Keep bitching and I'll start pissing on the furniture too."
"Well, you've already got the humping part down."
"Shit, it's not like you're complaining. Usually, it's: 'Oh god, Jack, harder! Fuck me, use me, call me a stuck-up bitch and get me pregnant, blah blah blah.' If I didn't know better, I'd think you had daddy issues somewhere in all that mess, Miss Perfect."
Miranda finally gave in and whirled around to face Jack. It was impossible to let such personal comments roll off her back. Arguing and bickering acted as their foreplay, but some things weren't to be toyed with. Her father and her inability to conceive were sensitive subjects, ones that were usually off-limits. But if Jack was going to bring up her insecurities, she could return the favor. She rolled her eyes, feigning indifference.
"You're complaining about my issues? At least I'm not the one who gets off on being a human punching bag, begging to act out rape fantasies in a ridiculous attempt to make up for my tragic past. 'Everyone pity me! I was experimented on as a child!'" She turned, pointedly locking her eyes with Jack's. "You don't have to play at being a victim to get people to love you. If I didn't know better, I'd suspect you enjoy the attention."
Jack's annoyed look faltered and deflated into hurt. For a moment, Miranda almost felt guilty. But like clockwork, the pain transformed into anger, and the fire returned to Jack's eyes. "You fucking bitch."
Miranda gave her a tight, dangerous smile. "What an innovative insult. Really? 'You fucking bitch'? I don't hear that from you nightly."
Jack closed the distance between them, her breaths shallow and ragged. "Think your sister's available? Same rack, half the ass, none of the baggage."
"Like anyone other than me would be foolish enough to put up with you for the ten seconds required to fuck you."
"Shit, that's about ten times longer than anyone can stand to be around you." Jack stared her down, inching closer. "Bet that's why Jacob skirted the fuck off."
Miranda's face tightened, meeting Jack inch by inch. "Didn't you have a thing for Shepard?"
"Don't you have a thing for huge cocks in your ass? Like, 'Don't stop railing her 'til you hit the back of her teeth' big?"
"Don't you cry after sex?"
"I'll make you cry after sex!"
"You're a child."
"You're a fucking cheerleader whore."
Miranda could feel Jack's burning breath on her mouth, thick with alcohol as it was filled with anger, but her steely gaze never wavered. She didn't give an inch, and she forced herself to use a calm tone. "I never loved you."
"...You're lying," Jack growled, nose bumping against hers.
Miranda kept her gaze dead set. She cared deeply for Jack, but she knew what would get results. "Am I?"
Before she could blink, Jack's fingers sank into her hair, forcing their mouths together. When their lips met, it wasn't gentle. Rough teeth scraped against her mouth, sinking possessively into her bottom lip. She curled her fingers around the lapels of Jack's suit, holding on for dear life.
"You're a terrible liar," Jack growled into the kiss. "Say it. Say you're a fucking liar."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Jack slammed her wrists back against the seat, clutching them in a bruising grip. When she felt soft trails of Jack's hair dust against her neck, she knew what was coming. Moments later, a hard mouth latched onto her neck, biting just above her collarbone. Miranda's smile widened. Even while Jack had her pinned, she was the one in control. She lifted her thigh, pressing up hard between Jack's legs. The pressure earned a low groan of approval against her throat. Jack's hips bucked forward, her hold loosening ever so slightly as her hands trembled.
It was the only opening Miranda needed. She flipped their positions, using her biotics to help shift some of Jack's weight. They tumbled from the seat in a tangle of limbs, slipping halfway to the floor before they caught themselves. By the time they scrambled back onto the seat, Miranda managed to straddle Jack's narrow hips. She leaned forward, not even bothering to restrain Jack's hands. Instead, she gripped her face, dragging her up for another hard kiss. A coppery taste spread through Miranda's mouth, but she couldn't tell who had bitten who. It didn't matter. She had Jack exactly where she wanted her, flat on her back and panting whenever their mouths pulled apart.
"Fuck you," Jack snarled. Her lips curled back, and her face twisted with a mixture of fury and arousal.
Miranda caught her breath, reaching down to hitch the hem of her dress up over her hips. "That's the idea."
Jack's eyes followed the gesture, locking directly between her legs. "Shocker. You still get off on being insulted. Why even bother wearing panties if you're just gonna soak right through 'em?"
Miranda didn't bother glancing down. Jack was right. She could already feel the wet stain seeping through the front of the fabric, but it didn't matter. Instead of letting the observation embarrass her, she shoved them down to mid-thigh. "Unless you want them stuffed down your throat, you'll shut up about it."
"Don't fucking tell me to-mff!" Miranda swallowed Jack's sentence before she could finish, silencing her just long enough to slide up along her body. The heavy pounding between her legs was even worse with her clothes out of the way, and a kiss could only quiet Jack for so long. She needed a more permanent solution for both problems.
Miranda gazed down at Jack as she considered her options. She enjoyed the sight of the prone biotic more than she had anticipated. Each labored gasp and pointed stare felt electric, coursing through her spine and ending in the tight, tense bundle of her clit. The ache grew, and it became difficult to keep still. She straightened up, grabbing the thick tresses of Jack's hair as she positioned herself just above her lover's face.
She caught a shift in Jack's breathing the moment she halted. The obvious sign of desire wasn't surprising, but neither was the glint of stubbornness in Jack's eyes. "Well? You gonna to sit the fuck down, or just show off?"
Somehow, Miranda managed to make her response sound indifferent. "Oh? Is there something you want?"
"Of course there's something I fucking want."
Miranda tightened her grip. It wasn't a painful reprimand, but it got her point across. "Ask nicely."
"Fuck you."
She rolled her eyes and pressed forward, inching toward Jack's face. "Even you have to appreciate how stupid that sounds. Try again."
Jack craned forward, but Miranda felt the shift and rolled her hips back, remaining just out of reach. "Oh, come on, Miri! I can see how bad you want it. Stop fucking around."
"Please...?" She drew the word out, letting it hang between them.
Long seconds passed. Jack continued pouting, but each muffled groan and frustrated sigh only made Miranda more determined to keep her waiting. She didn't react when Jack's nails dragged along her thighs. Instead of fighting back, she brushed her thumb affectionately against Jack's cheek, rocking forward just enough to tease.
That did it.
"Fine. Miri, please lower that wide ass somm-mrfff!"
Miranda bit her lip against laughter as she finally gave Jack what she had been asking for. A pair of warm lips and a soft tongue enveloped her, but took a moment to get their bearing. After a few awkward slips, the mouth between her thighs finally steadied. The slick, hot pressure proved almost as rewarding as the newly found silence. As much trouble as it caused, Jack's tongue felt wonderful as it swept over her clit. She tightened her grip, keeping one hand on top of the seat while the other clutched Jack's hair. "Finally, that filthy mouth of yours is good for something."
Jack made a muffled noise of frustration, but didn't stop what she was doing. She seemed determined to take back some control despite her position. Her tongue drifted down, and Miranda gasped as it circled her entrance. Jack knew all her weak points... which made what she had to do next especially difficult. She savored the attention as long as she could stand, spreading her thighs as wide as the seat would allow so Jack could push inside her. The slippery thrusts made her muscles quiver, and she gritted her teeth, waiting until the last possible moment to pull away.
The objections came less than a second after she lifted her hips out of reach. "What the hell, Miranda?" Jack grunted, reaching up to grip her hips and pull her back in place. "I wasn't finished yet! Sit the fuck back down."
"You still haven't asked nicely," Miranda insisted. Her stomach muscles cramped, screaming in displeasure, and the heavy bud of her clit throbbed with its own heartbeat, but she held firm. She couldn't last long, but she could definitely outlast Jack, and the results would be worth it. "Say please, and I'll come in your mouth."
Jack's jaw bunched, and her eyes narrowed to slits. She looked furious, but Miranda knew better. She was actually desperate. Her breaths were ragged and unsteady, and her hands shook, unable to keep their grip. "Fuck you," she snarled, but there was a note of helplessness in her voice.
The way Jack's lips trembled nearly made Miranda give in all over again, but she managed to summon the last of her willpower. "Again,later, if you do as you're told." She enjoyed the look of unbridled anger as Jack glared up at her, swinging her leg to the side and abandoning her position over Jack's torso. In a single movement, she kicked her panties onto Jack's lap and settled back into her seat.
"The fuck are you doing?" Jack snarled. "Get back here." She tossed the undergarments to the side and tried to close the distance between them.
Miranda was quick to shut her down. Her fingers crackled with energy as she reached forward, pulling a short-range singularity out of thin air. Before Jack could move, Miranda had her bound. She floated in the back seat of the skycar, bobbing up and down along with a few assorted glasses.
"HA-ha-ha, Cheerleader. Real fucking funny. Put me the hell down."
Miranda ignored Jack's pleas and made herself comfortable. "No. Since you're obviously incapable of following simple instructions, I'm going to take care of this myself."
"Fuck you. I don't need this shit. I can get off on my own, you fucking…" The obscenities continued, but Miranda tuned them out. When she closed her eyes, she could almost trick herself into believing Jack's cries were her typical ones of passion. She slid a hand between her thighs, teeth scraping against her lower lip as she rolled from the edge of her hardened clit upward, coating herself in her own wetness.
Eventually, the stream of swear words started to slow, staggering apart until all that was left was the thick, heavy sound of breathing. Miranda cracked one eye open. Jack was captivated, staring hungrily between her thighs. She let her fingers dip down to gather more wetness, intentionally drawing the motion out. Once they were slick enough, she pressed the tips along the shaft of her aching clit and started to rub in short circles.
When Jack let out a soft, uncharacteristic whimper, she knew she had won. She basked in the attention, allowing a few sighs of her own to escape. They swelled into hushed gasps, then groans, and before long, she was breathless. Each stroke of her own hand sent sparks skittering along her skin, but it was Jack's expression that fueled her need. The pleading look on her face was almost too much, and Miranda found it hard to suppress her amusement. "Is there something you want?" she purred.
"Nothing you have, bitch," Jack spat, but the words were far from convincing.
Miranda laughed. "Really? Can I hold you to that?" She slowed her movements, dipping a single finger down to graze her entrance.
Jack stared in awe, and all her insults dried up. A whine caught in her throat, pleading instead of angry, and Miranda almost felt sorry for her. Almost. She waited a few more moments, watching Jack chew on her lower lip and enjoying her discomfort. But then she thought of how warm, soft, and utterly skilled Jack's tongue was. Her hand gave a swift tug, and her lover landed on the floor of the skycar with a grunt. "Are you ready to ask nicely now?" she purred, cradling Jack's jaw with slick fingers.
A battle played across Jack's face, but Miranda knew she had won before it even started. Jack's gaze remained fixed between her legs, and need swiftly overwhelmed her anger. She mumbled, keeping her lips pressed together and her voice low.
"What was that?" Miranda asked. She removed her hand from Jack's face and ran it down along her own stomach, cupping between her legs and sliding her fingertips over her clit. "I didn't hear you."
"...please…" The word was barely audible, but it still made Miranda's lips curl into a smile.
"What?" She ignored the urge to move faster, keeping her pace slow and rhythmic.
Jack's defiance crumbled, and she stopped trying to hide her desperation. "I said please, okay?" she blurted out. Miranda rocked her hips a little further out of reach, and Jack's eyes widened with panic. "Fuck, I mean… Please," she said, adding a note of sincerity to her voice.
Miranda held Jack's eyes until she was confident in her victory. When no more insults came, she removed her hand, curling it around the back of Jack's neck. "There. Was that so hard?" Jack gave a tiny shake of her head, and Miranda felt her chest swell. The ache between her legs doubled, and she yanked Jack forward, rocking up to find her mouth. "Time to finish what you started. Hurry up and make me come."
Jack did not need any more encouragement. Within a few breaths, Miranda felt heat seal around her. She groaned, shoving her fingers through the tangled mess of Jack's hair. She had never been particularly quick to get off, but the argument, the tailored suit, and the undeniable tension had pushed her to the razor's edge. She rolled her hips, growing more and more frantic as Jack's lips tugged at the stiff bud of her clit. A breath later, Jack's fingers began stretching her open, sinking forward to fill her with one deep thrust. The tips hooked upward, fumbling and clumsy as they searched for the familiar swell of flesh just along her inner wall.
The stimulation was imprecise, but it was enough. Miranda's inner walls clutched at Jack's fingers, holding them in place as her head fell back. Her muscles strained as she bucked into Jack's mouth, covering her chin with heavy pulses of wetness. She tried to wrap her lips around Jack's name, but couldn't seem to find it, and ended up shouting something incoherent at the ceiling of the skycar instead. Her body quivered until every ounce of tension dissolved from her muscles, and she fought to keep herself upright.
At last, the pleasure faded and she stopped shivering. She looked back down and lifted her hips, grinning with satisfaction. The bottom half of Jack's face was dripping, and her cheeks were flushed with need. "See?" Miranda teased, gracefully sliding back to the other side of the skycar and smoothing down the front of her dress. "I knew you were capable of good behavior. And that wasn't a bad apology for the rude things you said. You can finish making it up to me when we get home."
Jack sat up and reached for the front of her pants. "Fuck waiting," she growled, struggling to shove them down. "It's my turn."
Miranda watched her for a moment, sneaking a glance at the tempting strip of tattoos running down along her muscular abdomen, but did not offer to help. She forced herself to appear indifferent, staring down at her wrist and activating her omnitool. Their argument had lasted just over ten minutes, and they only had about four left before they arrived home. Just enough time.
"Miri?"
The sound of her pet-name instead of another insult surprised her. She looked up, barely managing to maintain a look of boredom as Jack's pants flew beside her head. "What?" She crossed her arms in annoyance, shooting Jack a sideways glare.
"You know exactly what. I haven't gotten off yet."
She let out an annoyed sigh. "I'm aware of that, Jack, but I fail to see how it's my problem."
The small twitch at the corner of Jack's mouth was the only warning she got. Moments later, she was pinned to the back of her seat, trapped beneath the full force of Jack's weight. Energy swam around her arms and shoulders, buzzing wherever their skin touched, and her eyes were blazing white. She wasn't very heavy, but with the help of her biotics, her wiry frame was surprisingly strong, and Miranda quickly realized that struggling would be pointless. She had more finesse, but she couldn't match Jack's raw power.
"This is definitely your fucking problem, Cheerleader," Jack growled, grinding down against her thigh and painting it with slick heat.
Miranda gasped in surprise. She had known Jack needed to come, but hadn't realized just how badly. "Jesus Christ, Jack! I was just kidding before about the humping. Get off me and put your pants back on."
Jack gave a stubborn shake of her head and pumped her hips forward again. "No. You caused this. You're fixing it." The second push was slicker, smoother, and Miranda's stomach fluttered when it became obvious that Jack wasn't going to stop. Soon, ribbons of wetness trailed over the edge of her thigh, threatening to ruin the smooth leather seat. She could feel the firm point of Jack's clit catching just above her knee, throbbing a little harder with each thrust. Need finally overwhelmed her fake indifference. She struggled against Jack's grip, but this time, it was in an effort to pull her closer.
Jack paused, slightly taken aback. "What're you…"
"Just shut up and move." Miranda adjusted her position, forcing Jack off her thigh and over her hips instead. She gripped Jack's waist with one hand and the collar of her suit with the other, pulling until their pelvises aligned. Both of them groaned at the first contact, but she managed to whisper a quick, "Go," before forcing their mouths together.
Jack growled into the kiss as their bodies finally met. Miranda swallowed the noise, hooking her leg around Jack's waist. The angle didn't offer her direct stimulation, but it didn't matter. She had already taken her pleasure. All she wanted was to feel Jack's release. Their kiss broke apart, and Jack sucked in several shuddering breaths, biting down along her shoulder. The sharp sting hurt at first, but it faded to a pleasant, dull ache as Jack continued grinding against her.
Finally, Jack released the hold to suck in air. "Fuck, Miri..." The lean, muscled body above hers tensed, and Jack's rhythm sped up. Miranda felt the familiar shudder of breath against her neck, and she tried her best to arch into the thrusts. Her skin began to tingle where their flesh was joined, and the familiar buzz of biotics swarmed around them. She knew Jack was close, and it would only take a few more seconds...
Jack's chest arched away from her, but their hips stayed pinned together. Her face burrowed in Miranda's shoulder, and she started to shake. Miranda gasped as heat surged against her, slipping between their bodies and running down onto the ruined seat. Even though Jack was the one coming, she breathed out a sigh of relief. The last of her anger melted away, and she smiled as she ran her fingers through Jack's hair, waiting for her to come back down.
It didn't take long for Jack to go limp on top of her. She collapsed forward, still shuddering with aftershocks and struggling for breath. Miranda smiled and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "Better?" she asked, finally allowing a hint of softness into her voice.
Jack groaned into her neck and refused to move.
"Do you want to get up now?"
Jack shook her head, still holding tight to her hips. "Nuh-uh."
"Are you all right?"
"Mmhmm." Jack finally shifted just enough to look up at her, and Miranda was relieved to see that she was smiling. "That was rough, Lawson. I can't remember the last time you said you never loved me."
Miranda ran her nails gently over Jack's scalp in a soothing gesture. "You know I love you, even if you drive me crazy. And I don't think you're a damaged, attention-starved psychopath."
Jack snorted. "Only on my bad days. For the record? I don't think you're a cold, stuck up whore with daddy issues."
"I know. You wouldn't stay if you did." She shifted beneath Jack's weight, trying to catch a glimpse at her wrist. Fortunately, the clock on her omnitool was still active. "We've got about thirty seconds to make ourselves presentable. We can talk about this more inside."
A smirk spread across Jack's face. "Talk? You sure? Because I can think of some better ways to work through our shit." When she didn't answer, Jack's lower lip stuck out in a pout. "Aw, c'mon. You still got to come more than me!"
"Fine," Miranda agreed, reaching for her ruined underwear. "But inside, please. I don't want to make a mess."
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that ship just flew."
She followed Jack's eyes and blushed when she saw the state of the seat covers. "It's a good thing we own the car."
"Hey, that's what money is for," Jack laughed. "If you aren't spending it on cleaning come from the back seat, what good is it?" She slid back into her pants, and Miranda gazed wistfully at the tattoos running along her legs and hips before they disappeared. "So? Do you forgive me for being a jerk at your fancy party or what?"
Miranda pretended to think about it as she finished straightening her dress. "I don't know. I'm not mad at you anymore, but I wouldn't object to a little more apologizing."
"Great. The only thing better than hate sex is make-up sex." The skycar finally came to a stop, and Jack hopped up to open the door for her, still tucking her shirt into her pants. "C'mon. Get that fine ass inside. I don't care how much kissing up I have to do as long as it ends in the right spot."