Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/922806.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Artemis_Fowl_-_Eoin_Colfer
  Relationship:
      Beckett/Angeline, Implied_Beckett/Myles
  Character:
      Beckett_Fowl, Angeline_Fowl, Artemis_Fowl_II, Artemis_Fowl_I, Myles_Fowl
  Additional Tags:
      Incest, Oral_Sex, Cunnilingus
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-08-12 Words: 1103
****** Oedipus Complex ******
by MsSedusa
Summary
     Myles was gone.
Myles was gone.
Not dead. Probably, anyway. But away. They didn’t know what country. But,
occasionally, they’d find a sign he was still alive—the trace of somebody
having tapped into the Fowl’s market info without actually doing anything, a
whiff of somebody monitoring various stocks and bond they looked over.
Nobody was quite as concerned as Beckett was, but they were still quite
worried. Ms. Fowl tried twice to contact him, without luck. Beckett pretended
not to care, acting sarcastic and annoyed…but he was really just hurt.
After Myles left, everything else seemed to slowly crumble. Artemis became
increasingly more closed off, receding to his bedroom, the only one ever
allowed in Butler, who tried not to show how worried he was.
But once Angeline and Artemis senior began to fall apart, Beckett was actually
able to look away from his worry regarding his brother.
He hated to see his mother upset. It was almost worse then his concern for the
twin that ran. As Angeline drifted farther away from her husband, their failed
parenthood a driving wedge in their relationship, Beckett became more and more
obsessed with her happiness. He shifted his sadness and confusion and his worry
from every other issue—life, Myles, Artemis—and shoved it on his worry for his
mom.
She was happiest when he did this. Most of the time, she’d become quiet and
secluded as her older son had, but once he started showering her was praise and
adoration, well…it was like water and sunlight for a desperate flower.
He took her everywhere. Juliet trailing behind at times, he took her shopping,
took her to movies, out and about…it was his father’s money. but she deserved a
slice of happiness.
She deserved a husband who actually loved her.
He remembered how surprised he was when he though that, maybe, it should be
him.
In the bath, getting ready for a play she’d been gushing on about, he’d been
thinking about how unworthy his father was. How horrible he could be, letting
such a beautiful woman go to waste. Why doesn’t he just claim her himself?
He’d stopped. What the fuck was he going on about?
None the less, though…the idea stayed. When his seventeenth birthday came and
passed, he vividly wished his mother would let that awful man go, and be with
him instead. Less and less he reprimanded himself for it. He really wanted
this. Wanted her.
And when Fowl’s want something…
He didn’t actually come up with a plan. Not this time. He drank a bit, getting
tipsy but not quite drunk, and offered his mother a taste.
"Oh, no, Beckett, I’m good."
She was so sweet. Her voice like soft velvet, her smile like the sun. He found
himself …mesmerized, almost.
He wasn’t really thinking when he pulled her close.
"Oh!"
It wasn’t an angry yelp. She looked surprised, and then giggled, leaning in to
kiss the top of his head.
Only that’s not what he wanted.
He moved his head just as she got there, and his lips met hers. Her eyes
widened, but when he pressed against her, harder, her eyes softened, and
closed. His hands twisted into her hair, the kiss deepening by the second.
When she let his tongue access in her mouth, it was all over.
He pulled away, only to go for her collarbone. Her throat. He hissed, and
pushed her into a chair. She almost objected, but instead, she gasped, and
rolled her head back, moaning as he gripped her breasts tightly.
"Beckett, I—"
"Shhh, mama."
She almost giggled again, but then he dropped to his knees, gently shoving his
hand under her long, silk dress. Her eyes snapped open, as his hand caressed up
her thigh and over the front of underwear.
His eyes flickered to her face, to make sure she still wanted it, wanted this.
When she closed her eyes and breathed out happily, he continued.
Gently pushing her dress up, he had no desire to actually fuck her. No, she was
much too beautiful, too amazing for that. He wanted to see her cum, to see her
blissful and happy.
He wanted to taste her beneath him.
Her underwear was adorable. Like a child’s—pictures of kittens, cute and fancy.
He gently stuck a finger in, and pulled, off only a second later. Angeline
sucked in a breath, but complained not, though she shook just slightly.
Beckett stood up again, if only for a minute. His hands gently captured both
sides of Angeline’s face, and she looked up into her sons’ eyes.
"You’re beautiful, mama."
The smile she gave him was absolutely divine.
He sat back down, on his knees, his hands gently clutching both of his mother’s
knees. He nuzzled his face against her inner thigh, quick nibbles along her
soft flesh. She smelt wonderful, and from the sounds of her pants above him,
she was getting quite into it.
He turned his face towards her, then, his face pressing against the entrance to
her cunt. Her skin was so soft, and smooth. He was surprised she shaved—but it
was…nice, honestly.
When his tongue darted out, not pushing into her just yet but gently tickling
her lips, she giggled again, her hands settling atop Beckett’s head.
He looked up, pulling away briefly. “Is this okay?”
She very gently bit her lip. “…yes. It is.”
He smiled just as brightly as she does, and goes back down. His tongue pushes
through her lips, and, after he adjusted to the taste—which was simply
wonderful, but also quite powerful—he went straight for her clit, settling just
above to draw circles around it. She gasped, her legs shaking, her hands in his
hair.
"Oh, God, Beckett—!"
He gently, almost lazily pulled his tongue over her clit, and she gasped,
arching her back. His hand’s gripped her knees, to keep her from bucking and
hitting him, and he very slowly began to pick up a pace of sucking, licking,
stimulating the best he could, growing evermore faster as she began to fall
farther into the depths of pleasure, moans catching wind, louder, louder—
It was amazing. The fact that she came so soon, so violently…he gave a quiet,
pleased sigh as he sat back.
"Was it good?" He asked, and she just stared at him, panting, before her lips
tugged upwards.
"…yes. Yes, Beckett. Mama is…mama is very proud."
He stood up, and gently picked her up, sitting down and pulling her into his
lap. They fell asleep entwined, Beckett having happily claimed his mother.
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