Fic: The Plan | Warehouse 13 | Myka/Helena | NC-17 | 1/1
Title: The Plan
Fandom: Warehouse 13
Pairing: Helena Wells/Myka Bering
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,098
Prompt: For Porn Battle XII: teeth, stroke, rope, corset, trapped, tied, banter, biting, lick, artifact, escape, captured, laughter
Summary: With both of them trapped and bound, and their escape plans failing, Helena decides to take advantage of the situation.
Disclaimer: Syfy owns everything. I own nothing, darnit.
Author's Notes: Originally posted here at PB XII.
The Plan
Twisting against the ropes tying them together, Myka huffed out a breath. “How the hell did we manage this?” she whined at Helena.
“Oh, stop fidgeting already, will you? It's all part of the plan.”
“Plan? What plan? We're stuck in a broom closet with zero resources at our disposal, bound so tight that my hands are starting to go numb. That doesn't sound like part of any rational plan to me.”
Helena turned her head just enough to catch Myka's heated glare. “Just trust me. I've got a knife hidden in my corset, I just need to get it out.”
“What?” Myka whispered harshly. “You have a knife? We've been in here for at least a half-hour, and now you tell me you have a knife?”
“Would you calm down?” Helena shot back, delivering a glare of her own. “I've been trying to get at it the whole time, and-”
“And what, failing?” Myka cut her off.
“Yes, dammit. And I need your help. It's tucked into the boning along my left side, under the breast, and I just can't reach it, all right? If you can get your hands up that far, you might be able to find it.”
Blowing out another breath, Myka shook her head. “All right. Let me just... try to....” Twisting again, she brought hands up as far as she could, which wasn't very far after all, with the way they'd been tied together, Helena's back against her front, and her arms secured around her. Freaking psycho kidnappers. Seriously, they should've known better than to go after the jerks that found Patty Hearst's beret.
But she could at least touch Helena's corset, the boning hard against her fingertips, and that was something. “Am I close?”
“Not even remotely,” Helena groused, sagging back against her. “Dammit, this was foolish. If they come back in here, we'll be likely to flip sides and join their godforsaken 'cause',” she finished, spitting the last word with utter disdain.
The wind knocked out of her as Helena's weight settled against her, Myka shifted, giving up on finding the knife as the boning of Helena's corset moved out of her reach. “What, so now you're the fatalist? What happened to the plan?”
“The plan was to get free, surprise them, grab the damn beret, and be done with it. Nothing more complicated, I assure you.” And with that, she shifted again, trying to get more comfortable. But her hands were in between them, secured behind Helena's back, and when she stretched, her fingers brushed against Myka in a place that was definitely not a part of any plan.
Gasping with the unexpected touch, Myka tried to shift away from those hands, only managing to work the ropes tighter and draw them further together.
“God, Myka, what are you doing?” Helena complained, working her shoulders to try to undo the sudden tension in the ropes.
But that only made matters worse, and Myka bit down on a gasp, stiffening as much as their bindings allowed. “Hands,” she breathed against Helena's hair with a whine. “Your hands are... are.... Would you mind not doing that?”
“Doing what?” Another shift, and it brought Helena's fingertips over a very sensitive place, the stroke intense despite the layers of cloth in the way, and Myka couldn't help the way her hips bucked into the touch.
“That!” she hissed, another whine in her throat. “Do you have any idea where your hands are?”
With that, Helena turned a surprised look on her over her shoulder. “Oh, is that was that is? Sorry, I didn't realize.”
“Oh, like hell you didn't! You did that on purpose.”
Helena's expression turned darkly amused, and she laughed. “Perhaps. But somebody had to do something to ease the tension. Would you prefer it if I stopped and we just sat and hurled insults at each other for the time being?”
“Of c-” But Myka's retort died on her lips when Helena's fingers curled over her sex again, pressing firmly. “Dammit, Helena!” she breathed, dropping her head to the other woman's shoulder and rolling her hips into that touch. “This is-” she panted, “-all your fault.”
“Oh, I'm very aware, but you have to admit that it's the perfect opportunity.”
Her skin starting to tingle with dancing sparks of pleasure, Myka decided that turnabout was fair play, and stretched out her own arms to reach down. “To what? Have your way with me? In a closet?” she countered, finding just enough give in the ropes to allow her to reach her target. “Well, this is a two-way street, you know.” And with a firm caress, she returned the favor, stroking deliberately down between Helena's legs and drawing out a long, shivering gasp.
“God, Myka!” Helena hissed, arching into her touch as much as she could and starting to work her own fingers against Myka in earnest. “Do you... have any idea... how long... I've waited to do this?” she admitted between gasps of pleasure.
Myka grinned and nuzzled into Helena's hair, finding her ear and nibbling a little on the lobe, and when Helena let out a whimper, she chuckled. “About as long as I have, I figure. We haven't exactly-nngh!-been very subtle about it.”
Helena tilted her head to bare her throat to Myka, who dipped down to lick a stripe up that pale skin to her jaw. “You certainly haven't been subtle about it,” she quipped back.
“Hey, you're the one that flirts with me in front of Pete and Artie!” And with that, she stroked even harder, pushing Helena-surprisingly quickly-over into a shuddering orgasm that Myka could feel as those long fingers clenched and curled and worked faster against her.
A few more strokes, and Myka sucked in a long breath, body tensing and shivering, and their keening sounded entirely too loud in the tiny closet, both of them shaking and panting as they rode the high of their release, coming back down to earth slowly.
“Okay...” Myka ventured after a long moment. “That... that was-”
“Fantastic,” Helena purred, shifting back more comfortably against her. “Maybe next time, we should try it in a bed. It'll last longer without the threat of danger hanging over us.”
A roll of her eyes, and Myka chuckled. “And just what makes you think there'll be a next time?”
Turning her head again, Helena smirked at her and leaned up to catch her lips in a kiss, slow and sweet and... and perfect. “That,” she said against her mouth. “That's what makes me think there'll be a next time.”
And for once, Myka couldn't argue. Smirking in turn, she caught Helena's lips again, and with a twist of her arm, finally reached the knife hidden in her corset.
~*~*~*~
Fandom: Warehouse 13
Pairing: Helena Wells/Myka Bering
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,098
Prompt: For Porn Battle XII: teeth, stroke, rope, corset, trapped, tied, banter, biting, lick, artifact, escape, captured, laughter
Summary: With both of them trapped and bound, and their escape plans failing, Helena decides to take advantage of the situation.
Disclaimer: Syfy owns everything. I own nothing, darnit.
Author's Notes: Originally posted here at PB XII.
The Plan
Twisting against the ropes tying them together, Myka huffed out a breath. “How the hell did we manage this?” she whined at Helena.
“Oh, stop fidgeting already, will you? It's all part of the plan.”
“Plan? What plan? We're stuck in a broom closet with zero resources at our disposal, bound so tight that my hands are starting to go numb. That doesn't sound like part of any rational plan to me.”
Helena turned her head just enough to catch Myka's heated glare. “Just trust me. I've got a knife hidden in my corset, I just need to get it out.”
“What?” Myka whispered harshly. “You have a knife? We've been in here for at least a half-hour, and now you tell me you have a knife?”
“Would you calm down?” Helena shot back, delivering a glare of her own. “I've been trying to get at it the whole time, and-”
“And what, failing?” Myka cut her off.
“Yes, dammit. And I need your help. It's tucked into the boning along my left side, under the breast, and I just can't reach it, all right? If you can get your hands up that far, you might be able to find it.”
Blowing out another breath, Myka shook her head. “All right. Let me just... try to....” Twisting again, she brought hands up as far as she could, which wasn't very far after all, with the way they'd been tied together, Helena's back against her front, and her arms secured around her. Freaking psycho kidnappers. Seriously, they should've known better than to go after the jerks that found Patty Hearst's beret.
But she could at least touch Helena's corset, the boning hard against her fingertips, and that was something. “Am I close?”
“Not even remotely,” Helena groused, sagging back against her. “Dammit, this was foolish. If they come back in here, we'll be likely to flip sides and join their godforsaken 'cause',” she finished, spitting the last word with utter disdain.
The wind knocked out of her as Helena's weight settled against her, Myka shifted, giving up on finding the knife as the boning of Helena's corset moved out of her reach. “What, so now you're the fatalist? What happened to the plan?”
“The plan was to get free, surprise them, grab the damn beret, and be done with it. Nothing more complicated, I assure you.” And with that, she shifted again, trying to get more comfortable. But her hands were in between them, secured behind Helena's back, and when she stretched, her fingers brushed against Myka in a place that was definitely not a part of any plan.
Gasping with the unexpected touch, Myka tried to shift away from those hands, only managing to work the ropes tighter and draw them further together.
“God, Myka, what are you doing?” Helena complained, working her shoulders to try to undo the sudden tension in the ropes.
But that only made matters worse, and Myka bit down on a gasp, stiffening as much as their bindings allowed. “Hands,” she breathed against Helena's hair with a whine. “Your hands are... are.... Would you mind not doing that?”
“Doing what?” Another shift, and it brought Helena's fingertips over a very sensitive place, the stroke intense despite the layers of cloth in the way, and Myka couldn't help the way her hips bucked into the touch.
“That!” she hissed, another whine in her throat. “Do you have any idea where your hands are?”
With that, Helena turned a surprised look on her over her shoulder. “Oh, is that was that is? Sorry, I didn't realize.”
“Oh, like hell you didn't! You did that on purpose.”
Helena's expression turned darkly amused, and she laughed. “Perhaps. But somebody had to do something to ease the tension. Would you prefer it if I stopped and we just sat and hurled insults at each other for the time being?”
“Of c-” But Myka's retort died on her lips when Helena's fingers curled over her sex again, pressing firmly. “Dammit, Helena!” she breathed, dropping her head to the other woman's shoulder and rolling her hips into that touch. “This is-” she panted, “-all your fault.”
“Oh, I'm very aware, but you have to admit that it's the perfect opportunity.”
Her skin starting to tingle with dancing sparks of pleasure, Myka decided that turnabout was fair play, and stretched out her own arms to reach down. “To what? Have your way with me? In a closet?” she countered, finding just enough give in the ropes to allow her to reach her target. “Well, this is a two-way street, you know.” And with a firm caress, she returned the favor, stroking deliberately down between Helena's legs and drawing out a long, shivering gasp.
“God, Myka!” Helena hissed, arching into her touch as much as she could and starting to work her own fingers against Myka in earnest. “Do you... have any idea... how long... I've waited to do this?” she admitted between gasps of pleasure.
Myka grinned and nuzzled into Helena's hair, finding her ear and nibbling a little on the lobe, and when Helena let out a whimper, she chuckled. “About as long as I have, I figure. We haven't exactly-nngh!-been very subtle about it.”
Helena tilted her head to bare her throat to Myka, who dipped down to lick a stripe up that pale skin to her jaw. “You certainly haven't been subtle about it,” she quipped back.
“Hey, you're the one that flirts with me in front of Pete and Artie!” And with that, she stroked even harder, pushing Helena-surprisingly quickly-over into a shuddering orgasm that Myka could feel as those long fingers clenched and curled and worked faster against her.
A few more strokes, and Myka sucked in a long breath, body tensing and shivering, and their keening sounded entirely too loud in the tiny closet, both of them shaking and panting as they rode the high of their release, coming back down to earth slowly.
“Okay...” Myka ventured after a long moment. “That... that was-”
“Fantastic,” Helena purred, shifting back more comfortably against her. “Maybe next time, we should try it in a bed. It'll last longer without the threat of danger hanging over us.”
A roll of her eyes, and Myka chuckled. “And just what makes you think there'll be a next time?”
Turning her head again, Helena smirked at her and leaned up to catch her lips in a kiss, slow and sweet and... and perfect. “That,” she said against her mouth. “That's what makes me think there'll be a next time.”
And for once, Myka couldn't argue. Smirking in turn, she caught Helena's lips again, and with a twist of her arm, finally reached the knife hidden in her corset.
~*~*~*~