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tellitslantTitle: All Time High
Author:tellitslant
Fandom: Warehouse 13
Characters/pairing: H.G. Wells/Myka Bering
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 1700
Disclaimer: Characters are property of SyFy etc. This is a transformative work; no infringement is intended.
Notes: Written for the![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
femslash_kink meme 2012, prompt "sex toys worn in public or sex in public."
Warnings: None. No major spoilers; set somewhere between 2x09, "Vendetta," and 2x11, "Buried."
Summary:
*
Myka squirmed in her seat and tried to stretch her legs out. Her feet hit the crossbar of the seat in front of her and she groaned. With all the traveling they did as Warehouse agents, she would have thought they'd have frequent-fliered themselves into permanent upgrades. But no. Economy it was, and her legs were just too long.
In front of them, Pete – the bastard – was sprawled across the two seats he had to himself, dead to the world. To her left, Helena was curled into a blanket-covered ball, forehead pressed to the window. The lights were dim; the cabin was quiet. But Myka could not get comfortable enough to doze off.
She shifted again, extending one leg into the space free under Helena's chair. Her knee brushed Helena's foot and Helena glanced over.
"Sorry," Myka said, blushing. She hadn't felt so embarrassed by her height since middle school class photos. "I'm too tall for these stupid seats."
"It is rather compact, isn't it? When I imagined air travel, I always expected it would be a bit more elegant. Still, it is cozy." Helena turned in her seat. Her knees pressed against Myka's thigh and she smiled demurely.
"Cozy. Right." Myka slouched down further in her chair, letting her knees sprawl apart. They bumped the back of the tray table in front of her and she rolled her eyes in annoyance.
"Here, darling." Helena lifted the armrest between their seats and leaned into Myka, angling her body so Myka could stretch out across part of Helena's seat. She untucked the blanket and spread it out over both of them. "Is that better?"
"Ye-es," Myka said hesitantly. It was much more comfortable, but being pressed so closely against Helena posed its own set of problems. Myka felt herself blushing again, for very different reasons, as she remembered the way they'd curled around each other in the hotel room the night before.
It took a moment before Myka realized that it was not memory, but reality, that one of Helena's hands was under the blanket fiddling with the button on Myka's jeans. It slipped free and Helena moved on to the zipper before Myka shoved her own hand under the blanket and grabbed Helena's.
"What are you doing?" Myka whispered. "We are surrounded by people!"
Helena stilled her hand, but didn't pull back. "This can be quiet," she said.
Myka shook her head. "Helena, we're on assignment! Pete is right there. The last thing we need is Artie getting a call that his agents have been picked up for indecent exposure!" He already hates you, she didn't say; Helena's face showed that she heard it regardless and Myka bit back a reassuring comment.
"Pete's asleep. No one is watching. Come now, Myka, don't you want to? All you have to do is keep control." She wiggled her fingers in Myka's grasp. "Or don't you think you can?"
"That sounds suspiciously like a challenge," Myka said. "You don't think I'm that easy, do you?"
Helena laid her head on Myka's shoulder. "We could just sit here, I suppose. If you insist. If you really want to make me wait," she said, voice taut.
Myka hid a smile. Well. She had always kinda wanted to join the Mile High Club. Even though it had a stupid name and probably cost airlines thousands in replacing attendants and equipment and – "Please," Helena whispered, and Myka shivered. It was also stupidly hot. She let go of Helena's hand and spread her legs wider in wordless invitation. Helena slid closer and tugged at Myka's zipper.
"Can you be quiet?" Helena breathed as she worked her hand into Myka's pants. She sighed with pleasure as her fingers crept down over the damp fabric of Myka's underwear; her breath shivered across Myka's neck.
Myka held back a moan. Helena smiled. "You're not often quiet," she continued, her words just barely loud enough for Myka to hear. She rubbed tiny circles as she spoke. Her forearm flexed against Myka's stomach. "I love the way you sound when I touch you, all the noises that mean faster or slower or harder or oh yes, there."
Myka whimpered, just a little. Helena laughed softly in triumph. Across the cabin, someone got up to use the restroom. Someone else turned on their air; the soft hiss filled Myka's ears. She pressed her lips together.
"I can't believe how wet you are." Helena dipped one finger under the elastic, running it over Myka's cunt. "I would never have guessed that the rule-bound agent I first met had such hidden depths. But perhaps that's the point, hm? You like that no one can tell what you want. Just as you like that everyone can see us, but no one knows what's happening."
Her fingers circled Myka's entrance. It was all Myka could do not to rock her hips up and take her inside. She breathed through her nose, trying not to wonder when Helena had come to know her so well. It was more exciting than she could have imagined to be so close to coming in what was essentially a room full of people. If the blanket slid off, the entire plane would know that Myka Bering, United States Secret Service agent, couldn't wait out the rest of the flight, that she needed Helena badly enough to give in to her own desires.
"But oh, if they knew," Helena continued, mirroring Myka's thoughts. Her fingers slid over Myka's clit. Myka was so wet that there was barely any friction; she twitched anyway, then grabbed for the blanket. "If they knew that you like to keep me on my knees until you've come so many times that you can barely move. If they knew what you have in that locked bedside drawer of yours. If they knew how loudly you scream for me."
Myka reflected hazily that Helena had certainly adapted like a pro to the twenty-first century habit of talking dirty. Every word made it harder for Myka to stay quiet. She rolled her hips up slightly against Helena's fingers, hoping to encourage her to move faster.
"You want more, don't you," Helena said. Myka moaned despite herself, a long, desperate exhalation. "Just a little longer, darling. I just want to watch you for a little longer." She slid her finger into Myka, angling her hand so her palm brushed Myka's clit. "You look so incredible. So open. So needy." Helena drew in a shaky breath of her own. "Do you want me to make you come?"
Myka jerked into Helena's hand. Her throat tightened.
"All you have to do is ask," Helena said. "Just say please. Say 'please, Helena.' But oh so quietly. Can you do that for me?" Her finger teased, knuckle-deep in Myka's cunt, so nearly but not quite enough.
If she opened her mouth, Myka thought, she would scream.
"Surely you can do such a little thing for me," Helena whispered. "You do so like telling me what to do normally. And I like doing what you ask."
Myka quivered. Her muscles clenched. All the words that spilled so easily from her lips in private gathered on the tip of her tongue.
"I want you to ask for it." Helena was trembling too where she was pressed against Myka's side. "Oh, Myka." She groaned and Myka swallowed thickly. "I want to hear how much you need me."
Myka grabbed for Helena's knee under the blanket and dug her fingers in. "Helena," she gasped, "Helena, please, Helena," and then she came apart. Just the act of asking, the shape of the words in her mouth, was enough and more than enough, and oh, god, having said them she didn't want to stop. She wanted to scream.
A few seats back, a baby whimpered. Myka felt the weight of a planeful of gazes on her and bit her lip desperately. She squeezed her eyes shut and rocked into Helena's hand, suspended in the dark and overcome by pleasure.
Eventually, she stilled; eventually, Helena's hand slipped away; eventually, Myka's breathing steadied. She licked the sore spot on her lip and opened her eyes.
Helena still pressed against her, head on her shoulder. For a moment, Myka thought she was asleep, and then she realized that Helena was still moving under the blanket.
"Helena!" she whispered, not sure why she was shocked.
Helena tipped her head back so she could meet Myka's gaze. "I have to," she said, sounding almost surprised. "I just – I have to." She buried her head in Myka's shoulder to muffle her moans and stayed that way for a long moment.
Glancing around to see that no one seemed to be watching them, Myka gave in to her desire to kiss the top of Helena's head. They had done it. She let herself smile, then freed one hand from its death grip on the blanket and stroked Helena's hair back from her face. "All right?" she said softly.
Helena sat back with a sigh. Her face was flushed and she seemed off balance. "Yes, fine, darling." She cleared her throat. "Just, ah, enjoying what this new world has to offer." She drew her hand out from under the blanket; wetness glistened in the low light as she sucked her fingers into her mouth, one by one.
Myka groaned quietly, thinking about Helena's taste and the touch of her tongue. Despite herself, she wondered about the possibility of another round. Just then, the lights began to come up, the artificial sunrise suggesting that they were nearing their destination. She sighed.
Helena let her index finger slip from between her lips and smiled like she knew exactly what Myka was thinking.
"So, you have some good ideas sometimes, you know," Myka told her.
"You don't know the half of it," Helena said, half threat, half promise.
Myka laughed, squirming about as she did up her jeans. "You're gonna be the death of me, the things you talk me into. I don't know why I put up with you," she said fondly.
Helena smiled thinly. "Nor do I," she muttered.
As Myka got up to use the restroom, Helena turned, tucking herself back into a ball and looking out at the glittering lights below. Myka glanced back, but she was already far away.
Author:
tellitslantFandom: Warehouse 13
Characters/pairing: H.G. Wells/Myka Bering
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 1700
Disclaimer: Characters are property of SyFy etc. This is a transformative work; no infringement is intended.
Notes: Written for the
femslash_kink meme 2012, prompt "sex toys worn in public or sex in public."Warnings: None. No major spoilers; set somewhere between 2x09, "Vendetta," and 2x11, "Buried."
Summary:
*
Myka squirmed in her seat and tried to stretch her legs out. Her feet hit the crossbar of the seat in front of her and she groaned. With all the traveling they did as Warehouse agents, she would have thought they'd have frequent-fliered themselves into permanent upgrades. But no. Economy it was, and her legs were just too long.
In front of them, Pete – the bastard – was sprawled across the two seats he had to himself, dead to the world. To her left, Helena was curled into a blanket-covered ball, forehead pressed to the window. The lights were dim; the cabin was quiet. But Myka could not get comfortable enough to doze off.
She shifted again, extending one leg into the space free under Helena's chair. Her knee brushed Helena's foot and Helena glanced over.
"Sorry," Myka said, blushing. She hadn't felt so embarrassed by her height since middle school class photos. "I'm too tall for these stupid seats."
"It is rather compact, isn't it? When I imagined air travel, I always expected it would be a bit more elegant. Still, it is cozy." Helena turned in her seat. Her knees pressed against Myka's thigh and she smiled demurely.
"Cozy. Right." Myka slouched down further in her chair, letting her knees sprawl apart. They bumped the back of the tray table in front of her and she rolled her eyes in annoyance.
"Here, darling." Helena lifted the armrest between their seats and leaned into Myka, angling her body so Myka could stretch out across part of Helena's seat. She untucked the blanket and spread it out over both of them. "Is that better?"
"Ye-es," Myka said hesitantly. It was much more comfortable, but being pressed so closely against Helena posed its own set of problems. Myka felt herself blushing again, for very different reasons, as she remembered the way they'd curled around each other in the hotel room the night before.
It took a moment before Myka realized that it was not memory, but reality, that one of Helena's hands was under the blanket fiddling with the button on Myka's jeans. It slipped free and Helena moved on to the zipper before Myka shoved her own hand under the blanket and grabbed Helena's.
"What are you doing?" Myka whispered. "We are surrounded by people!"
Helena stilled her hand, but didn't pull back. "This can be quiet," she said.
Myka shook her head. "Helena, we're on assignment! Pete is right there. The last thing we need is Artie getting a call that his agents have been picked up for indecent exposure!" He already hates you, she didn't say; Helena's face showed that she heard it regardless and Myka bit back a reassuring comment.
"Pete's asleep. No one is watching. Come now, Myka, don't you want to? All you have to do is keep control." She wiggled her fingers in Myka's grasp. "Or don't you think you can?"
"That sounds suspiciously like a challenge," Myka said. "You don't think I'm that easy, do you?"
Helena laid her head on Myka's shoulder. "We could just sit here, I suppose. If you insist. If you really want to make me wait," she said, voice taut.
Myka hid a smile. Well. She had always kinda wanted to join the Mile High Club. Even though it had a stupid name and probably cost airlines thousands in replacing attendants and equipment and – "Please," Helena whispered, and Myka shivered. It was also stupidly hot. She let go of Helena's hand and spread her legs wider in wordless invitation. Helena slid closer and tugged at Myka's zipper.
"Can you be quiet?" Helena breathed as she worked her hand into Myka's pants. She sighed with pleasure as her fingers crept down over the damp fabric of Myka's underwear; her breath shivered across Myka's neck.
Myka held back a moan. Helena smiled. "You're not often quiet," she continued, her words just barely loud enough for Myka to hear. She rubbed tiny circles as she spoke. Her forearm flexed against Myka's stomach. "I love the way you sound when I touch you, all the noises that mean faster or slower or harder or oh yes, there."
Myka whimpered, just a little. Helena laughed softly in triumph. Across the cabin, someone got up to use the restroom. Someone else turned on their air; the soft hiss filled Myka's ears. She pressed her lips together.
"I can't believe how wet you are." Helena dipped one finger under the elastic, running it over Myka's cunt. "I would never have guessed that the rule-bound agent I first met had such hidden depths. But perhaps that's the point, hm? You like that no one can tell what you want. Just as you like that everyone can see us, but no one knows what's happening."
Her fingers circled Myka's entrance. It was all Myka could do not to rock her hips up and take her inside. She breathed through her nose, trying not to wonder when Helena had come to know her so well. It was more exciting than she could have imagined to be so close to coming in what was essentially a room full of people. If the blanket slid off, the entire plane would know that Myka Bering, United States Secret Service agent, couldn't wait out the rest of the flight, that she needed Helena badly enough to give in to her own desires.
"But oh, if they knew," Helena continued, mirroring Myka's thoughts. Her fingers slid over Myka's clit. Myka was so wet that there was barely any friction; she twitched anyway, then grabbed for the blanket. "If they knew that you like to keep me on my knees until you've come so many times that you can barely move. If they knew what you have in that locked bedside drawer of yours. If they knew how loudly you scream for me."
Myka reflected hazily that Helena had certainly adapted like a pro to the twenty-first century habit of talking dirty. Every word made it harder for Myka to stay quiet. She rolled her hips up slightly against Helena's fingers, hoping to encourage her to move faster.
"You want more, don't you," Helena said. Myka moaned despite herself, a long, desperate exhalation. "Just a little longer, darling. I just want to watch you for a little longer." She slid her finger into Myka, angling her hand so her palm brushed Myka's clit. "You look so incredible. So open. So needy." Helena drew in a shaky breath of her own. "Do you want me to make you come?"
Myka jerked into Helena's hand. Her throat tightened.
"All you have to do is ask," Helena said. "Just say please. Say 'please, Helena.' But oh so quietly. Can you do that for me?" Her finger teased, knuckle-deep in Myka's cunt, so nearly but not quite enough.
If she opened her mouth, Myka thought, she would scream.
"Surely you can do such a little thing for me," Helena whispered. "You do so like telling me what to do normally. And I like doing what you ask."
Myka quivered. Her muscles clenched. All the words that spilled so easily from her lips in private gathered on the tip of her tongue.
"I want you to ask for it." Helena was trembling too where she was pressed against Myka's side. "Oh, Myka." She groaned and Myka swallowed thickly. "I want to hear how much you need me."
Myka grabbed for Helena's knee under the blanket and dug her fingers in. "Helena," she gasped, "Helena, please, Helena," and then she came apart. Just the act of asking, the shape of the words in her mouth, was enough and more than enough, and oh, god, having said them she didn't want to stop. She wanted to scream.
A few seats back, a baby whimpered. Myka felt the weight of a planeful of gazes on her and bit her lip desperately. She squeezed her eyes shut and rocked into Helena's hand, suspended in the dark and overcome by pleasure.
Eventually, she stilled; eventually, Helena's hand slipped away; eventually, Myka's breathing steadied. She licked the sore spot on her lip and opened her eyes.
Helena still pressed against her, head on her shoulder. For a moment, Myka thought she was asleep, and then she realized that Helena was still moving under the blanket.
"Helena!" she whispered, not sure why she was shocked.
Helena tipped her head back so she could meet Myka's gaze. "I have to," she said, sounding almost surprised. "I just – I have to." She buried her head in Myka's shoulder to muffle her moans and stayed that way for a long moment.
Glancing around to see that no one seemed to be watching them, Myka gave in to her desire to kiss the top of Helena's head. They had done it. She let herself smile, then freed one hand from its death grip on the blanket and stroked Helena's hair back from her face. "All right?" she said softly.
Helena sat back with a sigh. Her face was flushed and she seemed off balance. "Yes, fine, darling." She cleared her throat. "Just, ah, enjoying what this new world has to offer." She drew her hand out from under the blanket; wetness glistened in the low light as she sucked her fingers into her mouth, one by one.
Myka groaned quietly, thinking about Helena's taste and the touch of her tongue. Despite herself, she wondered about the possibility of another round. Just then, the lights began to come up, the artificial sunrise suggesting that they were nearing their destination. She sighed.
Helena let her index finger slip from between her lips and smiled like she knew exactly what Myka was thinking.
"So, you have some good ideas sometimes, you know," Myka told her.
"You don't know the half of it," Helena said, half threat, half promise.
Myka laughed, squirming about as she did up her jeans. "You're gonna be the death of me, the things you talk me into. I don't know why I put up with you," she said fondly.
Helena smiled thinly. "Nor do I," she muttered.
As Myka got up to use the restroom, Helena turned, tucking herself back into a ball and looking out at the glittering lights below. Myka glanced back, but she was already far away.
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Date: 2013-04-15 07:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2012-08-31 07:02 pm (UTC)~RoseSama35~
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Date: 2012-09-02 11:01 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-08-31 09:24 pm (UTC)(Heh, apparently my phone autocorrects Myka to MYKA too. ;))
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