The God-Queen (Illyria/Dark Phoenix)
Marvel and probably Stan Lee own the X-Men, and someone who's not me (but may be Joss Whedon) owns Buffy.Joe's Note:
Two FFA spankings in one night! Soooomebody stop me! Dedicated to Wise, who figured Illyria couldn't get any because the fires of her resurrection would have destroyed Fred's vagina. But I figure, if Illyria can change her shape... why would that stop her?
Scott Summers frowned as he wandered through the mansion. He reached out with his mind again, searching along the link he shared with his wife. Again he reached… the best comparison was a busy signal. She was there, she was alive, but she wasn’t letting him into her mind or even acknowledging that he wanted to talk to her. It worried him but could mean something as innocuous as her being in a mental meeting with Emma. He turned the doorknob, pushed the door open, and entered the room they shared.
His eyes widened as he took in the scene on their bed. Blinking a few times, he ran his hand over his visor and then rapped his knuckles against the side of his head. He wasn’t hallucinating or dreaming… which meant that Jean really was lying on her stomach with her head between another woman’s legs.
Although the ‘another woman’ wasn’t quite accurate for what he was seeing. Jean’s was currently engaged in a familiar up and down motion that she’d used on him countless times, her lips wrapped around a pale, thick penis riddled with brilliant blue veins. He managed to tear his attenion away long enough to glance down at his crotch before his eyes returned to the spectacle on the bed. Watching them made him feel rather insecure about his own size. Which, he realized, was actually the least of his problems at the moment.
The owner of the penis was the biggest problem, bigger even than the fact that Jean was doing something with her. If it had been one of the X-Men, or even one of his female teammates, he wouldn’t have hesitated before unloading with an optic blast. But Illyria, much like his own wife, was far beyond his ability to handle.
Illyria had simply shown up at the mansion and refused to leave… when they told her to. She just sorta wandered in and out as she pleased, spending time talking to Jean, Ororo, and Rogue and fighting with Logan. She wasn’t a mutant, as far as the technology in the mansion could tell, but she was one of the few people who could go toe-to-toe with Rogue and walk away. And she could touch Rogue without being harmed, which combined with her powers to put her in the Very Big Problem category.
Locking her inhuman blue eyes with his own, Illyria raised an eyebrow as she ran one hand through Jean’s hair. That shook Scott out of his stupor and he bellowed, “Jean, what the fuck is going on here?”
The bluenette gave him a smug smile, an odd look to see on a woman whose face seemed to have three settings: bland, angry, and angrier. “I am the God-King,” she replied. “I have searched for the one who is worthy of replacing my Queen. I have chosen.”
“That’s my wife!” Scott shouted. “In my bed! It’s wrong, and immoral, and… that’s my wife damnit! She’s mine! Not yours!”
The familiar angry look appeared on Illyria’s features before she sneered at him. “Would you deign to mate with the worms that squirm beneath the grass?” she asked. “She is my better, but I am yours. If your tiny, mortal mind was capable of even the smallest glimmering of understanding, you would know that this places her beyond your grasp. Your misguided claim on her was undone the moment I entered her presence.”
“Jean?” Scott tried again, eyes locked on where his wife had yet to even look up from what she was doing.
When she did, his blood froze. It wasn’t the brilliant green eyes of Jean staring out from the familiar face, but the fiery eyes of the Phoenix. She waved one hand at him negligently and Scott was flung backwards into the hallway. The last thing he saw was the couple resuming its activities before the door was slammed shut by an invisible force.