Chapter Text
Magilou Mayvin is one that likes to go into little details on almost everything. Especially when it comes to the little details of Velvet Crowe and Eleanor Hume.
For example; as Eleanor kisses her way up the back of Magilou’s neck, she notes how calloused Eleanor’s palms are as she leans back. Them, and her musculature, seem to go against everything people assume of her. They see a prim, proper, and trimmed young lady. Underneath the uniform, she personified the philosophies of the Abbey when it wasn’t trying to destroy the world. Years of movement and training left little room for anything other than a delicate balance of strength and agility. One always had to work with the other or else she would lose. And by the Empyreans, it was lovely to see! Lean, toned muscles on her back, arms, and stomach. A sturdy core. And, yes, the toned legs that supported a butt that Magilou would happily spend days getting to know!
And while her scar had covered a good portion of her torso, Magilou didn’t mind it in the least, as she would often kiss her way down it, and it made Eleanor giggle when she did. It took a while for Eleanor to get used to being exposed so, however, she and Velvet made sure she was never uncomfortable. The former Exorcist was ever grateful.
In front of her, as Velvet claims her mouth, Magilou greedily lets her hands rub over Velvet’s abdomen again. If Eleanor is balance, Velvet is chaos. In the most wonderful way. Everything Velvet is runs contrary to her namesake.
Velvet implies a soft and delicate fabric. Velvet is anything but. While her hands are not as calloused and worn as Eleanor’s are, they certainly are capable of far harder motions. Even Velvet’s left arm, no longer the bandaged seal holding a curse, but now a smooth, almost immaculate limb covered in a material that seems akin to pure, distilled magic, with soft lights glowing from within, does not relent in the least as she grabs Magilou’s hips possessively.
She feels the energy from Velvet's hand, indifferent to how she got it, because it was, frankly, boring to hear about the Seraphim. They were jerks anyway, but she digressed.
Velvet is power. An unstoppable force with no immovable object. And it’s reflected in her arms, back, stomach, and legs with muscles that still bulge with angry veins here and there. Velvet cannot and will not slow down and Magilou has no intention of letting go.
Yes, the sex is exciting. Whether it is with Velvet or Eleanor, or both. However, it’s most than just that. Well, it’s significantly that, but that’s beside the point.
Both of these women love Magilou Mayven. A fact that, a year ago, Magilou would have not only heatedly deny, but be dogged in her assurance that it was a fabrication. She was, admittedly, more interested in a business transaction of mutual benefit and nothing more.
However, the fact that these two broken women, both with scars, visible and not, had not only gone out of their way to show how they cared, but supported her in ways she once thought impossible. In battle, they fought alongside her. They protected her, she protected them. They never fell because of that.
When fears surfaced, Eleanor would drive the away the darkness with her light and Velvet would hunt in the shadows anything that threatened them.
She disengaged from Velvet’s kiss for a moment to catch her breath before throwing her arms around Velvet’s shoulders to pull her in close again.
This was all she wanted.
While, yes, gald certainly had its appeal, and she was certainly not wanting for it, it was cold, hard, and, while tangible, it lacked something that the touch of one of her two lovers had in abundance.
She let go again to gasp as Eleanor’s calloused hands wrapped around her waist, one of her hands taking Velvet’s.
Damn both of them for knowing her sensitive spots!
At the same time, Eleanor had reached around, to join with Velvet’s other hand, to stroke Magilou’s entrance, which cause her to throw her head back and inhale as much air as she could.
“You two are awful!” Magilou garbled as her head swam in fire.
“We could always stop,” Velvet asked with a smirk.
“Did I say anything about stopping!?” Magilou shot back before moving her legs to wrap them around Velvet’s waist.
“You could always be implying it,” Eleanor offered as her hand, in conjunction with Velvet’s, moved faster.
“Imply… Not imply…!” Magilou tried to fire back another snappy retort, however, she was getting dizzy from the sheer sensation of being touched so vigorously.
“You know, Ms. Hume,” Velvet began, while still stroking, with a large and mischievous smirk of her own, “Does Ms. Mayvin appear to want this to end prematurely?”
“Hmm,” Magilou hears behind her, she’s not worried, Eleanor’s too straight-man to get into character, “I would agree with your assessment,” then again.
“Ahh! Stop trying to confuse me!” she sputters are she feels her edge coming closer and closer.
Then, they stop.
Velvet then holds her close, with Eleanor mimicking her so she is literally a Magilou sandwich, and unable to finish the job herself.
“Ahh! No! No fair! Two on one is the coward's way!”
Eleanor leaned into Magilou’s ear and whispered, “you can still use the safeword, remember?”
Magilou whispered back cheekily, “I know, I’m just being a nuisance.”
Velvet’s eyes leveled before she kissed Magilou on the nose. “So, what else is new?”
Before Magilou could answer, both of them doubled their attention on her entrance and she began to pant loudly as the sweat on her forehead got more pronounced.
She babbled something incomprehensible as she finally shivered happily. When it had passed, she practically melted off of Velvet and into Eleanor’s arms.
*
In the the yellow sleeping shirts they all wore, Magilou, with a smirk, decided to write about their escapades since Velvet’s return. Of course, what would really get the gald flowing was the sex scenes! Naturally, she decides to spruce them up a little.
“Ahem,” she began to recite from a manuscript as Eleanor, leaning up against a reclined Velvet, wasn’t sure what to say. Eleanor was trying to figure out how exactly she agreed to this and Velvet reminded her of the unmitigated disaster that would happen that would be amusing to watch.
“’Oh, Miss Magilou!’ a sensual sensation by Magilou Mayven,” she began, “Magilou enters the mountain spanning mansion, adorned in precious silks and the finest jewelry and proclaims, ‘My loves! I have returned! And I am most magical and Mayven!’. Then, both of you swoon at my presence and declare, ‘Oh! Miss Magilou! Let us do it!’, you say as you both embrace me. To which, the Mayven proclaims, ‘Yes! And I shall wear my jingly jangly shoes!’ And so, within Ten Thousand Leagues of the event, Empyreans are summoned! Rainbows fly everywhere! And Oscar Dragonia still has no butt! And it was great. The End!”
Velvet said nothing as she tried to process what she just heard.
Eleanor sighed. “It needs work.”
Magilou huffed. “Everyone’s a critic!”