A story in which you are the fifth member of MDR and try to flirt with your supervisor, Mr. Milchick.
Words: 2.3k
(I had so much fun with this lol. Gender-neutral reader, use of Y/N, and no S2 spoilers in this btw)
-
“None of you have every tried to seduce him? Seriously?”
Your fellow workers in MDR just stare at you, still a bit rigid from Mr. Milchick’s latest check-in. Well, everyone except Helly, who’s already out of her seat again.
“If you can figure out how to break that guy go ahead, but I’d much rather spend my time trying to get out of here.” she makes her way to the supply closet, searching for another subtle way she could send a message to the outside world. She’s tried everything she can think of—writing on herself, attempting to ingest notes, trying different exits, recording videos to her outie—nothing’s worked. But Helly is nothing if not determined.
“Come on guys, isn’t flirting with you boss a go-to tactic for getting what you want?” you continue. “Just because we’re severed doesn’t mean we don’t know about these things.”
Mark shakes his head.
“I don’t think we should mess with him, Y/N. You haven’t been here long, you don’t know what he’s capable of.” he warns.
You huff, a bit in disbelief that no one else is on board with your idea. Clearly nothing Helly has done so far is working, so why are they so against trying a new tactic? Besides, this tactic sounds much more fun.
After a few moments, Irving speaks up.
“Maybe we should hear them out. He definitely treats Y/N better than the rest of us. And he is handsome, I suppose.”
“Shit, Irv, can you quit having the hots for our co-workers for five seconds?” Dylan rolls his eyes.
“All I’m saying is Y/N might already have an advantage. Haven’t you noticed the way Milchick looks at them? And he’s never sent them to the break room for things he would certainly send the rest of us there for. Maybe he already has feelings for them.”
“Yeah, right.” Helly cackled, coming out of the supply closet with handfuls of materials. None of these people give a shit about us. They don’t even see us as human beings. He would never.”
“Look, Y/N, we just don’t want you to get hurt.” Mark reiterates. “Be careful.”
Ignoring the advice from most of your co-workers, you attempt your first move on your lunch break that day. You find your target by the vending machine, and he notices you approaching immediately.
“How are you, Mr. Milchick?” you ask innocently, stepping closer to him.
“Very well, thank you.” he nods with that wide, chilling smile. “And yourself?”
“Great! I’m almost done with my file.” you grin. “Is there a prize for finishing early?”
“Why, yes there is.” he replies. “Your choice. A waffle party, a dance party, or a wellness session. Whichever your heart desires.”
“What if I want something else?”
He cocks his head at you, “I’m sorry, those are the only rewards available at this time.”
“I see,” you sigh dramatically. “What about you then? What rewards do you get for your work?”
“I don’t believe I can disclose that information.”
Damn, he’s stubborn. You’re not getting anywhere with this.
“Aren’t we friends, Mr. Milchick? Can’t you trust me?”
“Of course, Y/N. But I am your superior. There is only so far our rel—our friendship—can go.”
He’s playing that card? Really?
Your co-workers are watching you from across the room intently, curious if you’ll be able to pull this off. You’re embarrassed that you can’t, especially after going into the challenge so confidently, at least not yet. Maybe Irving was wrong, maybe Milchick really doesn’t see you as a person, just a plaything he gets to boss around. Who are you to think you’re special? You’re just a bug he could easily crush under his shoe. He holds infinitely more power over you as an unsevered man, with the knowledge of both the inside and outside world. You’re nothing to these managers, just like the rest of your friends.
“What is it you want, Y/N?” he speaks up again, noticing your face falling. “If you truly aren’t happy with your work compensation, I may be able to negotiate—“
“No, Mr. Milchick, you don’t have to do that.” you cut him off. “What I really want is something you’re probably not allowed to give me.”
“And what would that be?”
Seth Milchick has been fighting his attraction to you for weeks now.
He’s not supposed to care about innies. He’s supposed to keep them in line. He’s supposed to keep them in line. He’s supposed to make sure they meet quota and that’s it.
But you...you’re a force he can’t ignore. He’s know there was something special about you since the moment he met your outie, helping them through the process of severance and meeting the new version of you. He still speaks to your outie every so often, giving them updates on how your innie is doing when you ask. He simply can never say no to you, even if it puts him at risk.
And now, your innie is before him asking for something else. Something he likely can’t give you without dire consequences. There’s so much you don’t understand, so much you’re unaware of in this place. He can’t protect you from everything. Even if he desperately wants you, he can’t be selfish. He has to keep you at a distance for your own good.
“I...I want to know more about you,” you finally say. “It can’t be wrong to want to know more about my boss, can it?”
Of course he wants you to know him, just like he wants to know everything about you in both of your forms. But that is not a privilege he possesses.
“Boundaries at work are important.”
“Oh come on, Mr. Mil—“
“You need to drop this, Y/N.” he says sternly.
He pivots and walks out of the room, leaving you in silence.
“Well, I tried.” you shrug as you return to your friends in defeat. “I guess he’s harder to crack than I thought.”
“Would’ve worked on me,” Helly snorts.
“Thanks, Helly.”
Dylan scoffs, “Not me. Your flirting game is pathetic.”
“You want to try next?”
“Hell, no. I’m not getting sent to the break room again.”
You slump down in a seat, beginning to munch on your snacks that aren’t even that good. If Helly can’t figure out a way to escape, and you can’t seduce Mr. Milchick to let you out, what hope is there? Mark has tried his fair of tactics, and so did Petey, as you’ve heard. Irving cares too much about the rules to try anything serious, and Dylan is happy here as long as he’s getting his prizes.
Maybe it’s worth it to keep trying.
You must be approaching this all wrong. Maybe he just doesn’t respond to direct signs of interest, maybe you need to play the long game. Although it’s not like you actually know what you’re doing in general. You have no memory of any successful romantic encounters, or unsuccessful for that matter. You have no idea if your outie has a partner, or if they’re married.
Wait—Mr. Milchick isn’t severed. He knows you on the outside. What if your outie is married, and that’s why he won’t flirt back? At least he’s respectful.
Either way, you’re going to try again.
A few days later, while the others are focused on their files, you take some time to make Mr. Milchick a thank you card. Maybe a heartfelt gesture will be enough to make him believe you care.
Dear Mr. Milchick, you write.
Thank you for being a great supervisor to the MDR team. We all appreciate you, especially me. You’ve been very kind and patient with me even when I do things wrong. Thank you for all you’ve done to help me and I hope we continue to work well together. I enjoy seeing your smile everyday.
Sincerely, Y/N.
You fold it up and stuff it in an envelope, setting it aside for you to remember to give him on your way out. You return to refining you file, finally starting to get the hang of it.
“You cannot allow this to continue, Seth.” Ms. Cobel’s gaze is piercing, watching you write your letter on her screen. She zooms in, reading what you wrote. “Pitiful.”
“They’re harmless, I assure you.” Mr. Milchick looks straight ahead, attempting to keep his true feelings from Ms. Cobel’s awareness. “It’s just a silly work crush. I won’t encourage it, but I don’t believe it’s a danger.”
“See that you don’t.” Ms. Cobel seethes through her teeth, turning off the screen.
He should warn you, shouldn’t he?
With Cobel onto you now, he may not be able to keep protecting you from consequences. And if he continues to show any favor towards you, her suspicion will only increase. He has to shut you down, and he has to do it fast.
He enters MDR, counting every member except you.
“Where’s Y/N?”
“They just went to the bathroom.” Dylan says, barely looking up from his computer.
Mr. Milchick goes in after you, hearing a couple protests from MDR on his way in. Thankfully you’re at the sink washing your hands and he didn’t walk in on you indecent.
“Mr. Milchick? What are you—“
“I need to talk to you. And this is the only place I can do it completely in private.”
“...Okay?” your brows furrow in confusion.
He takes a deep breath, “Ms. Cobel was watching the security cameras while you were writing that card for me. You’ll be in major trouble if you keep doing things like that.”
“What the fuck? I was just trying to make something nice for you!” you gasp, shocked that not only the surprise is ruined, but Ms. Cobel is being a bitch about it. “What, is she jealous I didn’t make her a card too?”
“No,” he chuckles. “It’s not that.”
“Then what?” you cross your arms.
“She thinks you have um...romantic intentions towards me.” he says it like it’s a curse word, forbidden.
“And so what if I do, huh?”
“It’s. Not. Allowed.” he emphasizes. “We could both be fired. You don’t want that, do you?”
“I don’t care. It’s my outie’s problem.”
He glares at you, then swiftly grabs your wrist, pulling you out of the bathroom. The others stumble back from listening at the door, shouting after you as Mr. Milchick drags you down the halls.
You know exactly where you’re going. He’s never sent you there before, but clearly you crossed a line this time.
“Forgive me for the harm I have caused this world. None may atone for my actions but me and only in me shall their stain live on. I am thankful to have been caught, my fall cut short by those with wizened hands. All I can be is sorry, and that is all I am.”
“Again.”
“How many times do I have to say this shit?”
“Until you mean it.”
“But I don’t mean it. And I never will. I’m not sorry. I did nothing wrong!”
“We have to do this, Y/N. It’s for your own good.”
“You don’t give a shit about my good! Helly’s right, you guys don’t even see us as human beings, just husks you can exploit. And to think I tried to flirt with you!”
You get up and shove all the lie-detecting equipment away, stomping towards the dark hallway before he stops you.
“Y/N, stop.” his grip isn’t as rough as it was before. “Please.”
You look at him, your eyes fighting tears.
“I do see you as a human being. My favorite human being, in fact. Only person tied for that title is your outie. But there are serious repercussions for breaking protocol here. I can’t act on those feelings, do you understand?”
So the suspicions were right. He does care about you.
But you were just faking infatuation to get what you want, right? So how come when he’s telling you directly that he can’t give you what you want, you’re still drawn to him?
You look down, laughing to yourself at the absurdity of this situation.
“I guess it never would’ve worked out anyway. It’s not like I can leave this place, so we could never go on a date.”
He joins in your laughter, “Exactly.”
“Can we at least be friends? Is that allowed?” There’s a desperation in your voice now, fearing the loss of your connection with him completely.
“Of course.” he smiles.
You glance at the equipment splayed all over the floor, “What are you going to tell Cobel?”
“I’ll tell her I knocked some sense into you in the Break Room, and that’ll you’ll never try anything again. Can you work with me to keep that statement accurate?”
You nod, and he gives you the okay to leave. Before you open the door, you look back.
“Can you tell my outie how you feel? Maybe this can’t work with me, but maybe it could work with them?”
“I’ll think about it.”
The door shuts behind you, and you make your way back to MDR, coming up with a number in your head to tell your friends. You read that stupid thing plenty of times, but who knows what the final count was.
“How was your first time in the Break Room?” Dylan asks upon your return.
“Horrible. I had to repeat the same thing like 300 times.”
“Light work. I had to do over a thousand.” Helly cringes at the memory. “So what’s up with him and Cobel being onto you?”
“They figured out my plan to seduce him and threatened me. I told them I don’t care if they fire me, but maybe there’s something worse than termination. Milchick made it sound really serious.”
“What did I tell you about just listening to him? It’s better for everyone.” Mark says.
“Yeah, yeah, you were right, Mark.” you roll your eyes.
You sit back down at your seat, booting up your computer. You’re not quite sure what to do anymore, you last idea having failed, along with a new awareness of emotions.
I desperately need more severance fanfics like idc who it is I neeeeeeeeed more please this is a call for all fanfic writers save me from this hell of nothingness
What Milchick would be like if he had a crush on you, a refiner.
Disclaimer: my writing is ass
- Milchick has never had too much experience with love
- At first he tried his best to ignore the feelings he felt for you, after all even if you reciprocated those feelings he would never be allowed to date you.
- He would try his best to protect you from Ms Cobel and being send to the break room.
- He’d make up excuses to spend more time with you i.e. have you help him set up stuff like the melon bars and stuff
- He’d stare at you a lot.
- One time you got hurt and he had to take you to the medical room and put a bandaid on you. He was so glad he got to be close to you and he was extra careful and gentle while cleaning the small cut.
- He’d try for his favoritism for you to not show but it would show. A lot.
- Whenever the refiner team wanted to ask Milchick something they’d have you ask him because they know he’s nicer to you.
your innie’s first day | a helena/helly r. x reader fic
2.2k words, severance (season 2) canon-adjacent, fem. reader, i wouldn’t call it “proof-read”
| you wake up, confused and knowing nothing about who you are. a newly severed ‘innie’, a half-baked escape plan, and an unfamiliar love. will helly be able to tell you who you are — and do you really want to know the answer?
warnings: mentions of self-mutilation (minimal), blood (minimal), power imbalance (?), violence (minimal), mentions of suicide (helly r.), girls kissing (ohohoho!), not a slow burn.
before you read (SEVERANCE S2 SPOILERS): helena & outie!r have an established relationship. this fic can be read in two different ways (with true helly or with helena masquerading as her — whatever floats your boat). outie!r met helly during the lumon event (they have a positive relationship) . outie!r does not know the extent of what lumon is up to or what really happens on the severed floor.
—
> ?:??am, innie, lumon’s severed floor
your face is pressed against a cool, flat surface. the back of your head throbs. you groan and sit up, the walls around you are bare. it seems like you’re in some sort of conference room. but if that's true, why are you lying in the center of the table?
“hi there, you on the table!” a cheery, but rather nervous voice echos from the device in front of you.
“who is that?” you back away from the device carefully, pulling your skirt further down over your legs.
“would you be interested in answering a few questions?” the voice asks.
you don’t respond, instead you plop off the table and onto the floor. you scan the room, the only way out appears to be through the metal door behind you.
‘i need a weapon.’ you run your hands up and down the chairs, searching for anything of use. you turn the first chair over, ‘nothing.’
“uh- e-excuse me! i understand you may feel confused, but i strongly believe answering these questions will help you feel better.”
under the second chair, you feel something wiggle against your pull. a long piece of metal, a screw. it’s not very sharp but it’ll do. you start to work it out of the chair.
“s-sure. i’ll answer a few questions.” you’ll play along, for now.
“thank you! okay, first question; who are you?”
you stop. you don’t know the answer. “i…” you fiddle with the end of the screw — its almost out. you tug it free and slide it up your blouse sleeve. “i don’t know.”
“just confirming, you don’t know who you are?” the voice asks.
you sigh and look up trying to spy any cameras hidden in the fluorescent lights, “sorry. i don’t.”
the voice asks you a few more questions, something about a state and another about your mother’s eye color. then, you hear the door click open. you back up against the opposite wall, palming the screw in your hand. a brown-haired man in a suit walks in and shuts the door behind him.
“don’t fucking touch me…” you growl.
he picks up the chair you knocked over and sits, “you got a perfect score and in record time, congratulations.” he smiles at you. “you’re a very good listener.”
something inside you stirs. “what do you want from me?”
“a better question is ‘what do you want from lumon’?” he sets down a file folder and spreads out a few papers. “how about knowing who you are?” he motions to the chair across from him.
you grip the screw so tightly it digs into your skin. you may have forgotten your name, but that doesn’t mean you're helpless. you step towards the man, cautiously.
the door clicks open again, a red-headed woman enters and stares at you, “drop it.”
you let the screw fall to the floor, you don’t even realize you complied until you hear it thud on the carpet.
“he’s right, you are a good listener.” she smirks at you and takes a seat at the head of the table, motioning to the seat across from the man.
“helly… i had it under control.” he groans.
“really? cause it looked like she was about to stab you.”
you stagger forward and sit down, eyes darting from one face to the other. the man clears his throat.
“hello! i’m mark s. , and this is helly r.” he turns a paper around to you, “and according this this, you’re—“
your ears ring as you look at the paper in front of you. it has your name on it and there’s an ID photo of yourself paperclipped to the corner; you’re smiling in the picture. it makes your stomach hurt.
“that’s me?” you question, touching the picture.
“that’s you.” helly answers, she leans in and studies your face.
mark explains the ultimate work/life balance to you — severance.
“why would i sever?” you ask and stare up at mark.
“yeah, why would you sever?” helly inquires, she stares at you in awe, but you’re not sure why.
“you mean; why would your outie sever” he smiles and clears his throat again, “unfortunately, why our outies sever is up to them. that information cannot be disclosed in respect of their privacy.”
“privacy? it’s my-“
“how about a tour?!” mark shoots up and collects the papers back into the folder. helly scoffs but stands and steps towards the door. mark beats her to it and holds it open, motioning for you to follow. helly nods her head slightly.
“c’mon,”
you follow them down hallway after unending hallway. you cross your arms as you trudge your way to your new home, macrodata refinement. your supervisor, mr. milchek takes time to introduce you to the rest of your team and sits you down at your desk.
“mark, would you please elaborate on today’s task for our new friend? and — while you’re doing that, i’ll prepare us some fresh and succulent melon,” milchek extends the last word of his sentence with a sing-songy tune. he pats your shoulders and slipping out the door.
mark explains the work to you. it’s mysterious and important — that’s been made clear. but you can’t focus on the numbers in front of you; your mind is reeling and it doesn’t help that your coworker, dylan, keeps glaring at you.
“why the fuck would they add a new person to the team after what happened? she’s totally a spy.” he peers over his divider at you.
you huff in response.
“if she’s a spy she’s total shit at it.” helly chides, leaning back in her chair to look at you. “her heads down and her hands are over her ears.”
you scoff and push yourself away from your desk. “wow, you guys are awesome.” your words dripping with sarcasm.
you think a coffee will make you feel better. you head to the kitchen and pour yourself a cup; as you lean against the counter and sip, you do feel a little better.
“hey,” helly coos from the doorway, “sorry, we’re being assholes.” she moves in closer to you, “except dylan, he’s actually like that all the time.”
you let out a small laugh and her eyes light up. she pours herself a cup and leans against the counter next to you. she taps her fingers against her mug.
“at least the coffee here is good.” helly raises her mug to you and takes a sip.
“like we’d know any better?” you snap. “sorry.” you rub your hand against your forehead, “now who’s being an asshole?”
she chuckles. “you’re handling things a lot better than i did when i first got here.”
“i was going to stab mark.” you retort.
“still, way better than me.” she sets her mug down, “i tried everything to get out of here.”
she tells you of all her methods; swallowing a message, writing all over her arms, and of course — a suicide attempt.
“that was the closest i came to getting out of here, until…”, she trails off and shuffles uncomfortably. “anyways, what i’m trying to say is… it gets better..” she straightens her posture and heads back towards her desk.
“thank you.” you reach out and touch her arm, smiling. “um, sorry, could you point me towards the restroom?” she returns your smile and points down the hall.
you hold the empty coffee mug close to you as you make your way to the bathroom. you have a plan in mind. it’s more of an idea really — an act of rebellion? that has a better ring to it than “self mutilation”.
you peel off your blouse, leaving you in your cami, and wrap it around the mug. you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror. it causes you to waver — you look meek; pupils big and dialated. you suck in a breath and smash the mug against the counter. you feel it shatter and unwrap the garment, pulling out a thick, jagged shard. you shake the rest of the ceramic into the sink and bite down onto the blouse. ‘here we go.’
the shard hovers against your skin, you’re not sure what to write. what do you want to say to this other version of yourself? you’re not sure if you have the pain tolerance for a manifesto, so you decide a simple ‘FUCK YOU’ will suffice. you press into your forearm, blood starts trickling down to the floor; it leaves dark, crimson splats on the bathroom tile.
you’re just about to add the next slash when the bathroom door flies open; mark & mr. milchek storm in.
“shit!” mark rushes towards you, pressing his hand down against your bleeding arm. “what are you doing?!”
milchek rips the shirt out of your mouth and smacks your wrist hard, causing the shard to fly out of your hand and into a mirror. helly pushes into the bathroom, pausing to take in the scene infront of her.
“just leaving my outie a message,” you gasp and a drained laugh escapes from you. helly’s mouth is left hanging open in a stunned half-smile.
milchek’s head snaps towards helly, “you’re at fault for this somehow — aren’t you?” he pushes mark off you and grabs your wrists. “and you were doing so well.” he pulls you towards the door, “i’m most disheartened by your actions, let’s ensure you don’t repeat this behavior.” he smiles at you but his grip is rough and unkind.
“mr. milchek, please!” mark shouts, “t-the cut isn’t that bad. we can say it happened when she was helping cut melon — that she was being clumsy! please, mr. milchek.”
milchek glares at you, then mark.
“two attempted suicides on your record? i don’t think that will be received well, but what do i know?” helly picks a piece of lint off her sweater and flicks it towards milchek. she makes no efforts to hide the giant grin on her face.
he releases his grip on you and stares at helly, “fine.” he forces a smile, “but this…” he motions to the mess you made, “is coming out of your paycheck.” he points at helly before storming out.
“gladly.” helly sneers, flipping milchek off as he exits.
she races towards you and clamps her hand over your wound. she raises her eyebrows towards mark and motions to the door.
“i-i’ll go get some bandages…” mark stutters and rushes out of the restroom.
helly smiles down at you, her eyes flick from yours to your wrist.
your blood starts to seep through her fingers, “what was your message gonna be?” she doesn’t seem to mind.
you sigh and shake your head, “‘fuck you’”. helly laughs in disbelief.
“poetic.” she teases.
you laugh, shakily. another wave of nausea washes over your body and you start to cry. helly pulls you into her, letting you rest your forehead against her shoulder.
“i keep thinking i’m going to wake up soon” you whimper and look up at her, “why are you being so nice to me?” she brushes a strand of hair off your face. “that’s like the only reason i don’t think this is hell.” you let out a hollow laugh.
“cause i was you.” she leans closer to you, “and you’re a good person, so it’s easy...”
you scoff, “how could you possibly know that?”
“it’s… a long story.” her eyes linger on your lips, “way too much for a first day. but, trust me.” her breath is shaky. she acts like she’s known you her whole life. her grip on your arm is tight, like she’s scared to let you go.
you wonder if she can hear your heart beating, it’s practically pounding out of your chest. your memory only stretches two hours before this moment, but you can’t help but trust her. she’s being so kind and she’s so beautiful. your stomach flip-flops.
“do we know each other out there, helly?” you touch her arm and she trembles.
“y-yeah.” her eyes trail all along your body. “i can’t believe you’re here.”
you raise your hand to her cheek, “do… do you know if we’re close?” your arm has stopped bleeding now but you still feel light-headed.
“uh-huh.” her breath hitches, “we are…” she sways towards you, her forehead pressing against yours. “i can’t believe you’re really here…”
you lean forward, she cups your cheeks and kisses you.
she yanks herself away, “i’m sorry—“
you pull her into another kiss and helly melts, you're so gentle with her. she struggles to be gentle with you; her nails dig into your waist, her kisses are getting rough and messy. you push back against her, “helly—“ you gasp.
she pulls away, panting, “s-sorry…”
you smirk and pat her shoulder.
“s’kay” you roll your shoulders back and clear your throat, “mark will be back soon.”
helly wets a few paper towels and wipes the blood off you. she dabs away the red handprint she left on the side of your face.
“i-im sorry,” she blots your cut, “i don’t know what i was—“
“helly, stop it.” you rest your hand on hers, “was that um… something our outies would do?”
helly nods.
“w-would you like to… do it again… sometime…?” your leg bounces anxiously.
her face burns red, “yes.” she blurts.
“are we—“
you’re cut off by mark slamming into the door, his arms are full of first aid materials. he lays them on the counter.
“i got bandages, tape, some other stuff, more bandages…” mark trails off, “i kinda just grabbed everything.”
you like mark. he makes you laugh, even when he doesn’t mean to.
he and helly start to bandage you up, they’re both so gentle with you. even when mark lifts you onto the counter, he’s treating you like you’re made of glass. you wonder if he knows who you are out there. you hope he thinks you’re a good person too. ‘good people apologize for trying to stab others…’ you reprimand yourself.
“i’m sorry i tried to stab you.” it comes out as a quick whisper, you expected it to be louder.
“don’t worry about it, seriously.” mark secures the bandage on your arm, “helly nailed me with a speaker during her interview.”
“which i apologized for.” helly states.
“i really don’t think you did!” mark laughs, “anyways, all better now.” he helps you down off the counter.
they walk you back to MDR and you actually start to get a hang of the numbers! though, you hate the ones that make your teeth hurt. its strange, the hours seem to fly by now. before you know it, milchek is knocking on the doorframe.
“time to clock out.” he orders. you rise and follow him towards the elevator.
helly smiles, “see you soon.”
—
> 6:30pm, outie, helena eagen’s house
“they said i got it from a cake-cutting mishap…” you winch as you rub your bandaged forearm, “atleast i got cake.” you smile up at your girlfriend.
“you didn’t have to do this,” helena huffs as she prods at her dinner, “i could have talked him out of it — it’s a big decision and if you felt pressured i-“
“lena…” you groan, “i’m fine.” you grab her hand from across the table and give it a squeeze. “i promise, babe.”
she smirks, “thank you.”
“do you think she recognizes me in there?” you bite your bottom lip. ‘i shouldn’t have asked that.’
helena drops her fork and rubs her forehead, “i don’t know.” you trace your thumb across her hand. she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “i’m sure you’re a good influence on her,” helena kisses your hand, “i just hope i’m not a bad influence on you.”
you lean across the table and kiss her, “always are.” you tease.
> end.
a/n: helly wants that cookie so f’ing bad. ty for reading! pls leave me suggestions for more severance fics!
[your other you] // a seth milchick x reader fanfic, masterlist
🐐 SYNOPISIS: In the sterile, windowless halls of Lumon Industries, waking up in your own body is supposed to be predictable – seamless. But when your Innie opens her eyes with a strange, lingering ache, panic takes over. Something happened while you were gone. Something your Outie did. And now, you’re left to piece together the unsettling reality of sharing a body with a woman whose choices aren’t yours.
⚠️ TAGS: Heavy Themes, Sexual Situations, Dubious Consent (due to severance dynamics), Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Existential Dread, Liminal Horror.
CHAPTER 01 — When The Morning Cries, And You Don’t Know Why
CHAPTER 02 — I Find Myself Alone Again, All Alone With You
CHAPTER 03 — Know That If It Hides, It Doesn’t Go Away
CHAPTER 04 — Got A Feeling, You Give Me No Choice
CHAPTER 05 — Feel So Cold, And I Long For Your Embrace
CHAPTER 06 — Feelings Are Intense, Words Are Trivial
INTERLUDE
CHAPTER 07 — But What’s Puzzling You, It’s The Nature Of My Game
CHAPTER 8 — Take Him By The Hand, Make Him Understand
CHAPTER 9 — Locked In A Cage, Thrown To The Lions
CHAPTER 10 — You Did Something Wrong, And You Said It Was Great
EPILOGUE
author's note: she liiiives! i love mark s and just wanna squish his lil cheekies. would consider this a warm up fic, as it's been literal yrs since i've written anything lol. hope i haven't lost too much of my touch. inspired by "vanish into you" by lady gaga. enjoy <3
word count: 2,668
The plain white walls of the severed floor are all you’ve ever known, and honestly, you never gave much thought about what was beyond them.
It isn’t quite zero thought, because Irving had you beat in that regard. Anytime Dylan brought it up (Do you ever think about what’s out there?), and he was guaranteed to do so at least once a quarter, Irving was always the first to respond–no hesitation, eyes never leaving the screen, and it left little room for doubt that he could be lying (Not at all. Pointless speculation). You always take him at his word, but Dylan, always inquisitive and skeptical, isn’t so easily convinced.
The brief back and forth that inevitably followed about if he really means that and how yes, he really does mean that serves as background noise as you refine, a small smile on your face at their banter which drops when a feeling of dread settles in your chest at a particular set of numbers. But then you move them into a bucket and the dread dissipates and the percentage of completion in the top left moves from 54 to 55 and Dylan has changed the subject to which of the four of you might get the waffle party this quarter. The routine is comfortable in its familiarity. Why, therefore, would you possibly want to disrupt it? People like patterns, and you like this one well enough.
But it is true, you’d given it a little thought. You suppose it would’ve also remained at zero if not for the congratulatory animation that played when you completed a file. Your first one, from two quarters ago, had a pixel version of Kier Eagan in a forest, emerging from the thicket onto a cliff overlooking a waterfall and against the backdrop of a beautifully blue sky. Colorful flowers bloomed at his feet and he commended your hard work and dedication and your fellow refiners were all around you because the accompanying tune had grabbed their attention, and they were proud.
“Great job!”
A gentle hand set itself on your shoulder and you looked up to see Mark with a bright smile on his face as he watched the screen. He was so close you could smell his aftershave–musky, invigorating, what you think you’d smell if that was you in the forest among those towering trees.
“Thanks.”
At your simple response, Mark’s gaze slid down to you and he squeezed your shoulder. It’s the first time you had ever wondered what could be up there–on the ground floor, and farther still, past the edges of the Lumon office.
But you didn't linger on it long. There was work to be done, data that needed to be refined, and as the cartoon Kier Eagan had said, you were nothing if not a dedicated employee. And close on the heels of this recollection was another, of your boss this time, sitting back in his chair and wagging his pen at you when you questioned what exactly MDR was working on. Remember: the work is mysterious and important!
That had been when you were new, and he was so eager to show you the ropes. The memory makes you smile again as you grab your mug of coffee and take your first sip of the morning. It’s stronger than normal, and you grimace. Because the screens between the desks are lowered, Mark notices, and he leans over to speak to you quietly, an undercurrent to the conversation Dylan and Irving are still having (you hear mention of finger traps).
“I accidentally brewed it a little stronger today, sorry,” Mark says sheepishly.
Your smile returns. “Don’t worry about it.” A bitter aftertaste sits on your tongue, difficult to ignore, and maybe you should get a cup of water to keep next to your coffee. But then Mark smiles back, and suddenly the acidity is less intense. All you sense now is the heat in your stomach–the coffee settling, perhaps, or something else.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
You don’t know for certain what’s “out there,” but it must be somewhere warmer, surely.
You’re wearing a long sleeve button-up but it’s still not enough. You wonder if the weather outside has been more agreeable, because you arrived without a blazer. You wish your outie had considered bringing one along anyway. The air conditioning always seemed to be running on high, and Mr. Milchick made sure to keep the temperature at 70 degrees, no higher, no lower. You surmise the thermostat is broken, because you’re practically turning into an icicle.
With eyes focused on the computer screen and the numbers you’d selected moving into their assigned bucket, you rub your hand along the opposite arm, trying to generate some warmth. Once the bucket closes, you lay your hand back down on the trackball to continue searching for the next set, but as you do, a heavy weight comes to rest around your shoulders.
You freeze (no pun intended), and when the surprise fades, you reach up. The fabric of the suit jacket is heavy, thick, quick to assuage the shivering you could do precious little to hide (to your embarrassment, for your coworkers never seemed to feel as cold as you did, if ever). But there’s extra heat emanating from the satin lining, a sign that someone had just been wearing it.
“Hope that helps.”
You turn to see Mark, suit jacket-less, with his hands on his hips and a sympathetic grin on his face. There had been a slight upturn at the end of the statement, like he was asking a question.
It’s so easy for you to smile back, and it’s no wonder he’s the boss, you think. Instinctively, your grip tightens on the jacket to bring it more snugly around yourself, and you nod. “It helps a lot. Thank you.”
Mark nods once, a silent You’re welcome, and walks the last few steps to his desk; he’d been walking back from the kitchenette before he paused at your station. The screens are up today, so when he sits, he disappears from sight.
You can smell the detergent he (well, his outie) uses for the laundry, and the numbers you’re making a box around don’t feel very scary anymore as two passing thoughts occur to you–what it might be like to do laundry, and what it might be like to do laundry with Mark.
The next day, you step out of the elevator and deflate slightly when you realize you’re in a short sleeve button-up. Your purposeful steps through the expansive hallways kick up a slight breeze that raises goosebumps along your arms and you consider asking Mr. Milchick if you could have a blanket, but you already get the sense the answer will be a decisive no. That, or it will be yes, on the condition you meet a certain percentage of completion on your file. It wouldn’t be Lumon without management incentivizing its employees in some way or another.
The staggered schedules of those on the severed floor mean you’re the last to arrive at the MDR department, and you mutter a quiet good morning to the others as you take your seat and boot up your computer. Dylan and Irving respond in kind rather absentmindedly, clearly absorbed in their work. Last you checked, they’d both been pretty close to 75 percent completion. They had incredibly good pacing this quarter, and you know an MDE is coming soon, though who would get it first, you couldn’t say.
It’s Mark who responds with a bright Good morning! in typical department head fashion: enthusiastic, and somehow always able to meet the day with a burst of energy. You guess it’s because there’s only four of you, so he takes it upon himself to make it a little livelier–or at the very least, to bridge the gap when the rest of you are quieter than usual.
In any case, the effort never goes unnoticed by you. You smile even though he can’t see it because of the divider, and it remains as you type in the name of your file, keyboard clacking quietly.
It takes nearly an hour for you to realize you hadn’t shivered once. You stop scrolling, brows furrowing. You twist around to look at the thermostat on the back wall, but you don’t know why because it’s not as if you can see the temperature readout from this distance (your vision isn’t great, and if you were allowed to communicate with your outie, you would tell her just a couple of things: bring a jacket, and get your eyes checked).
“Is it a bit… warmer than usual?” you ask your coworkers, wanting to see if it was just your imagination.
The sound of a screen sliding down prompts you to turn back around. Mark confirms that yes, it is warmer. I went to see Mr. Milchick yesterday before leaving for the day, he explains. It took a bit of convincing, but once I let him know it was hindering productivity, he agreed to let us increase the temperature a maximum of five degrees!
You’re at a loss for words at the thoughtfulness, and Mark smiles, albeit awkwardly, due to the blank look on your face. “So hopefully you can work comfortably now.”
You blink and feel your cheeks heat up and you’re embarrassed to have been staring like a deer in headlights. “U-Um…” you stammer, momentarily averting your gaze. But then you meet his again as you give as earnest of a Thank you as you can manage, the corner of your lips turned up in a shy smile of your own.
The awkwardness vanishes, and Mark relaxes. “You’re very welcome.” When he returns to his work, he leaves the screen where it is, and you make no move to raise it either.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
“Guys, I’m at 70%! That MDE is upon us.”
At Dylan’s announcement, you chuckle and remark Can’t wait! Irving says he’s nearly there too, and muses that they might reach 75 percent at the same time.
“How would that work?” Dylan wonders aloud. “A double MDE…”
You push yourself slightly away from the desk so you can stand and stretch: arms high overhead, as far as you can go, and you sigh at the relief in your spine. You bend to the left, then to the right, then come back to center and drop your arms. It’s the middle of the day and you’ve yet to have your coffee; you’d been so absorbed in your file today, getting to work the instant you sat down, and it simply didn’t cross your mind to step away briefly to pour yourself a cup.
As you walk to the kitchenette, you roll your shoulders a couple of times. When you’re really busy, you fail to maintain proper posture, and you mentally scold yourself for not being more mindful. It’s good you decided to take a break when you did.
You see Mark at the vending machine, observing his snack fall from its tray and down into the delivery bin.
“What’d you pick?” you ask.
Mark bends down to grab the cardboard package and then turns to you. “Blueberries!”
You grin. “Good choice.”
Rather than leave right away, Mark lingers, opting to lean against the counter near where you’re preparing your cup of coffee. In your peripheral, you can see him watching as you grab what you need: three tubs of creamer, two packets of sugar. Slightly flustered to be scrutinized so closely, you speculate if he might be memorizing it.
He asks how you’re doing with your file and you shrug and share that it’s going okay. This one is a little trickier than usual. Sometimes I think I’m moving too slow, but I think it’s Dylan and Irving that move too fast! The comment makes him laugh and you like the way it sounds.
“Don’t sell yourself short,” he encourages. “You’re a great refiner too.”
You detect he’s completely genuine and give a bashful thank you. But you don’t look up at him when you do, opting to keep your attention on your coffee as you stir it because you think if you did, you’d only grow more nervous. And at this distance, he would definitely be able to hear the way your breath catches.
You take a sip and your eyes light up. It tastes great today, not too weak nor too strong, and you tell Mark as much. He beams.
“Tried my best to make sure you had the perfect cup.” His smile is fonder than usual when he says this and his voice soft, and you’re thinking about it again–the world beyond these walls.
You’re still holding your mug up to your mouth and you take another small sip, mostly to hide the blush quickly spreading across your cheeks. The small tendrils of steam are hot against the sensitive skin, and you don’t notice Mark’s moved a little closer until you turn to him. You have to tilt your head back to meet his eyes and at this distance his scent is strong–a light spice, sweet and pleasant to draw in, and somehow intimate.
Your breath catches. The corner of his mouth twitches because he hears it. But you don’t want him to step back. Almost imperceptibly you take a half step forward instead, and you wonder if you moved even closer to each other if you might meld into one.
Maybe in another life you’re both at home and he’s brewed the perfect pot of coffee. Maybe the sun is shining, a tranquil morning light coming in through the kitchen window that makes his brown eyes glow like pools of honey. If you try hard enough, you think you can sense the office melting away–these harsh fluorescent lights, these plain white walls, the coldness of it all. Until it’s just you and him, and you imagine him to be someone else to you besides a manager, to be someone more.
He brings his hand up to gently cradle your cheek and you startle slightly, having been so enamored with watching his face. He murmurs an apology and asks if this is okay and all you can muster is a nod. If you could dream, you believe you’d dream of this.
His lips connect with yours in an innocent kiss; it causes a lovely warmth to bloom in your chest. And you’ll never know for sure what’s beyond the severed floor, but you’d like to cling onto the slightest chance that it could be a life with Mark.
You’re the second to last refiner scheduled to leave for the day, with the last, of course, being the department head. It’s Friday and you know for non-severed employees it’s a pretty big deal–the end of the work week, with two wonderful days off ahead. You won’t get to experience that, so instead you look forward to coming back to the office feeling a lot more energized, since your outie will have had more time to rest.
It’s 4:55pm when you shut off the terminal. You stand and push your chair in. Mark is staring at his computer and biting the tip of his pen.
“Good night, Mark.”
He almost seems surprised when you say this, like he hadn’t realized the time. But then he smiles easily, setting his pen down and leaning back, wholly relaxed, comfortable to be in your presence.
“Good night.” He says your name so tenderly your heart clenches, and it overflows with affection.
As morbid as it is, you know your days aren’t guaranteed. You are at the mercy of your outie, and there may be a day you don’t come back because she’s decided to leave Lumon. But you think that if this was the last thing you ever saw–Mark lounging in his chair as he bids you good night, gracing you with a smile that makes you wish the two of you were anywhere but here–you could be happy even as you faded away.
i need like a yandere milchick x reader or something.
milchick who is especially obsessed reader’s innie. super protective of innie reader, wanting to keep them unaware of everything awful going on outside
milchick who tries to subtly drive a wedge between reader and other severed employees, insisting that they turn to him and only him if they need aid
milchick who is content keeping things platonic for the sake of his job, but who is slowly losing the threads of control keeping him from pulling reader into a supply closet
milchick who is resentful of outie reader, taking up part of innie reader’s life but ultimately he cant hate them because theyre still part of innie reader
Summary: SMUT!!! Right after it’s revealed Helena was taking place for Helly in MDR. You’re horrified you hadn’t recognized sooner and distance yourself. Soon, Helly finds you and assures you it’s alright, confiding in you. You learn her outie slept with Mark and jealously and tension rises…
Word Count: 4.8k
A/N: I did not plan on writing this until two hours ago when I blacked out and woke up with this on Google Docs holy shit i literally never write smut, i promise im getting out my WIP a demon took over tonight
MDR was dead silent save for the continuous humming buzz of fluorescent lights over your meticulously placed desks. It was only you and Helly in the department at the moment. Dylan was still at Irving’s “funeral” and Mark was God knows where probably self destructing. It’s been a hard week for all of you. You wish you knew what to say, but words were long forgotten in your stream of seemingly never ending thoughts. All you could manage to do is stare at the floating numbers on the screen before you, tapping your Lumon-issued heel on the soft ground. From the corner of your vision you see Helly partaking in a similar ritual, eyes focused on nothing. You wish you could find the words to say to her, but what was comforting for someone in her position?
Hey, I’m sorry I hadn’t noticed sooner. I thought you were just being a dick to me on purpose because I accidentally offended you or something, not because it was your evil-dictator self.
Yeah, that might be a little too hammy. But it had been true, whilst Helena was pretending to be your dear friend she had successfully pissed you off so much you just began to ignore her, at least enough to not see the red flags hidden beneath her actions. It began with malicious words then followed with hostile actions. You couldn’t begin to comprehend what may have triggered this fit of hate from Helly and every mending attempt you tried fell flat. You eventually gave up. How stupid you were.
Lost in the abyss of your mind you didn’t notice Helly staring right at your conflicted face. What you didn’t notice was that she wasn’t mad at you, she could never be. Dylan had explained most of what had happened while she was gone and she learned how Helena had treated you. If anything, she felt she had more of a reason to feel sorry.
“Hey…” Helly’s voice struck through the still air in the room. Your head snapped immediately towards the sound, eager. It was one of the first times she had talked to you directly since arriving at the office. “I apologize for anything I, um she, might’ve said while I was gone.”
You could only stare. She was apologizing to you? Your face softens and melts into an expression of grace. You could never understand how such a kind and beautiful soul could simultaneously be such a vile person. “Oh Helly,” You began, “I’m not mad at you. If anything I’m mad at myself. I should’ve recognized it wasn’t you, like Irving had.” Your eyes travel back down to your lap, not finding the strength to look her in the eyes. You felt humiliated.
“No, no, don’t be.” Helly’s voice felt so calming to you, like a warm hug. “You were blinded by her.”
“How could you be so sure?” You suddenly spit out, causing Helly to be taken aback. You knew this anger was misplaced and yet it felt good to finally air out. Although, as good as it felt, you couldn’t continue this war path. “I need some more paper clips.” Following your muttered statement you hastily stand and scrambled to the supply closet. But of course, Helly was persistent and stood just as quickly as you had.
“Hey,” Helly called your name with alertness. “Talk to me, okay?” When she realized you weren’t looking at her and rather the dozens of different office supplies she grabbed your shoulder and whipped you around.
“What?” Your tone was so sharp and you hated it.
“Please, you can tell me what’s wrong. I can handle it.” Her hands felt like they were mending into the skin of your shoulders, the sensation was addicting. It only made you angrier. You shoved her hands off of you, backing away ever so slightly into the corner, eyes still trained on her.
“What’s wrong is that it should have been obvious!” Your voice was raised and still Helly doesn’t flinch or fall back. “Helly you’re my best friend in here, the most important person I have ever known, and I couldn’t tell you were missing just because she spewed some fucking middle school insults at me? I don’t deserve your forgiveness, especially when I know that you wouldn’t have done the same! You would’ve fought back because that’s the kind of person you are. The kind I’ll never be.” It was an embarrassing confession and said in such a self-deprecating way, but she asked for the truth. Helly had stopped approaching you at this point and was just listening, silently and without judgement.
“Maybe, maybe I would have noticed. I don’t know. But she’s taken too much away from me to scare you away too!” Helly’s voice was now joining yours in volume, although you could tell her frustration was far from being directed towards you. “She took my job, she took Irving, and now she’s taking you! She even…” Helly sighed, now quieter. You leaned forwards, not sure of what she was about to say. “She even took what was supposed to be my first-time.”
You were puzzled. “First-time? What do you mean?” She only stared. To her, your question would have been humorous in any other context.
“Intercourse.” She replied. “Sex. It was with Mark, supposedly at the retreat you were on.” Her eyes seemed dim and sad. You felt the intense need to bring that shine back, the one you had grown so fond of. But for now, Helly’s words sunk into you like a dagger. Sex with Mark? Sure, they seemed close but you had never pegged them to be that close. The thought brought you a flurry of horrid feelings for reasons you couldn’t quite place.
“Oh,” You didn’t have words to offer. “I’m sorry.” The room grew quiet and just breathing felt like a painful task. You wished it was time to clock out. To break the awkwardness you turn to your right and miraculously find a box of paperclips. You send a fabricated smile while holding up the box and turning towards the door. You needed to escape, gather your thoughts. Right as your foot entered the doorway you heard Helly once again.
“It’s not that I’m mad she had sex with Mark specifically, I just… I’m mad she had that power over me. That she used me to manipulate someone else.” Your mind was spinning, the information too much to grasp.
Still staring at the ivory white door you reply, “I’m sure Mark understands.” Then, you choose your next sentence with cruelty. “Maybe if you talk to him he can make it up for you, reenact it, y’know?” You didn’t know why you said it, but you had. It didn’t fix the lingering feeling in your chest, the one that only got progressively worse with the thought of them together. Without another word you left Helly alone in the closet with only the after taste of your words.
—
It was nearing six forty-fix and everyone but you and Helly hadn’t clocked out yet. This was far from an ideal situation in your eyes, but it was the way it had happened. Since your conversation in the closet you’ve been lamenting over your choice of reactions. You were done being mad at yourself and just wanted to repair things with Helly once more, but said task was easier said than done. You didn’t know how to approach her and formally apologize.
Any words you thought up fell flat and so you opted for your next best form of communication. Helly’s eyes grew curious as she stared at the small note you had flicked in her direction. It was in the shape of a miniature paper airplane. Carefully unwrapping the note her eyes widened slightly at the contents.
Dear Helly,
I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I was a dick. You’re one of the only good things I have in this hellhole and I’d be an idiot to throw that away.
Love, …
Under the short letter was a subpar drawing of the two of you holding hands walking in the grass. There were flowers blooming under your feet and a sun shining directly on your two figures. It was simultaneously beautiful and sorrow-filled, knowing that you will likely never have the chance to do so in real life. The drawing itself was childish, but that did not prevent it from pulling on the strings of Helly’s heart.
In reply a note similar to yours flew on your desk, this time it was simply a crumbled ball rather than a meticulously folded airplane. Inside was a single drawn heart and a smile. You look up and see Helly beaming at you, and of course, you return the favor.
—
It was the next morning and you were the third to arrive behind Mark and Dylan. Passing Helly’s desk you saw the tiny note you had given her the day earlier, it was folded so only the drawing was visible and taped to her monitor. It made you feel warm.
“Hey, what ‘cha smiling at?” Dylan inquired you from over at his desk. He was sipping on piping hot coffee and staring at you expectantly. You simply shrug and continue over to your desk, plopping down in the chair.
“Nothin’. Just excited to work, aren’t you?” You dodge the question with humor, to which Dylan has a quick witted comment to like always.
“Oh I’m just jumping with joy.” You could tell he doesn’t believe you, but energy has been down since Irv has been gone so the conversation ended there. Ten minutes later Helly struts into the room, today she’s wearing a short blue dress. It’s not unlike her other attire, but you always found this specific dress to hug her body nicely. It was a pretty color on her too, complimenting her eyes in an attractive way. But of course you’d never say these things outloud, and so you substitute these comments with a curt smile.
The morning drags on and you decidedly run to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Dylan’s smelled extra good this morning and you were ready to get in on that action. You were pouring a cup when you heard the click of heels enter the room. You didn’t need to raise your head to know who it was.
“Mind pouring me a cup?”
“That’s unlike you, you usually hate coffee.” You state, but still grabbing a cup to comply with her request nonetheless.
Helly shrugs at this comment, “I decided I wanted to try something new today I suppose.” She gratefully takes the cup out of your hand, fingers lingering over yours as she receives it. Raising the cup to her mouth, her lips tease the edge of the rim. The movement feels slow and deliberate, making a scene of her plump lips wrap around the edge. You felt embarrassed for staring and yet your eyes couldn’t pull away. You watch as her nude lipstick leaves a small rig around the rim of the cup and shivers. You cough and are about to excuse yourself until Helly interrupts.
“Wanna chat for a bit? I’m so bored out there today, I feel like everyone’s been down in the dumps.” You nod at her words and lean back on the counter you’re in front of.
“Sure, I get what you mean. Everyone’s on edge.” You take your own sip from your mug and fail to notice Helly’s own lasting stare. “What do you wanna talk about?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking recently, I know so much about you now, but you’ve never told me much about what you were like here before I came.” This piqued your interest.
“Well, what do you mean?”
“I dunno.” Helly shrugged despite very clearly having an idea in her mind, you just couldn’t figure out what it was. “What did you do for fun? Was it always Cobel? Do you have any other friends?”
You giggled at her enthusiasm. “Uh, well for fun it’s kinda just the same basic stuff I do now. Just drawing, talking, that kind of thing. And yes, it’s always been Cobel, as long as I’ve been here at least. Other friends? Never. I didn’t come here too long before you so Dylan, Irv and Mark are the only other refiners I’ve come to know, other than you of course.” Helly seemed interested in what you had to say, like she was exploring a whole new side of yourself.
Then, Helly’s next question almost made you spit out your coffee; “Did you ever… have your first-time?” You were used to sharing everything and anything with Helly, but never had you expected this question to come out of her mouth.
“Uh, I, well no…” You began, stuttering every word. “There’s no one here I’ve ever been attracted to in that way…” You could never imagine doing such a thing with the three refiners you’ve come to know and love. Before Helly you were very close with them, but nothing romantic had ever occurred. They were more like brothers to you, a platonic love. But then, what about the woman who was standing right before you? You had never thought about Helly in that way before, but now that you do it makes a heat crawl up the back of your neck, your toes tingle. It was a strange sensation, but not a disturbing one.
“Ah, okay. Sorry if that freaked you out or anything, I was just wondering if you had an idea of what I missed out on with Mark at the retreat.” Helly brushed off. This thought quickly dulled the pleasant one in your mind with something rotten. Right, she and Mark had technically “done it”. But also, it wasn’t really Helly so did it count?
“Yeah unfortunately I wouldn’t know.” You smiled and Helly took another sip, her lips pursing at the brim. The heat was back, but now it was also pooling in your stomach and traveling lower. It was wrong, you knew it was wrong, but you were imagining a timeline where it was you in that tent instead of Mark, and instead of Helena it was Helly. You could feel yourself visibly getting hotter. You needed to think of an excuse, anything to leave the room and cool down, but of course Helly had to interfere with your plans.
“Are you okay? You look flushed, you’re not getting sick are you?” Helly leaned closer and placed her coffee cup down on the counter. Before you could protest she was already approaching you and placing the back of her hand on your burning forehead. “You feel hot.” How badly you wanted to nuzzle into her touch, indulge yourself in her presence, but instead you stood like a deer in headlights.
“I just-” You need to think of an excuse, anything to get out of this predicament with your dignity, but it was hard when Helly was so close and so kissable. “I’m feeling a little conflicted is all…” This statement made something in her eyes shimmer, something deep.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe I can help with that…?” Her tone was curious and challenging. Her piercing eyes slowly gazed at your pressed lips. Subconsciously, you drag your tongue over them, wetting the surface. It felt like she knew exactly what you wanted but was unsure if you wanted to go through with it.
“Maybe you could.” Your voice was now a mere whisper, a quiet statement said just between you two. Your hand gingerly reached for her arm, scared if your movements were too bold she’d realize what she was doing and back away.
“Y’know, Mark wouldn’t be my first choice for my ‘first-time’.” This caught your attention. Helly’s eyes stared into yours through her eyelashes, daringly.
You gulped, “And who would be?”
“I think you can guess…” Her lips were tantalizingly close to yours, the tip of her nose just hovering over yours. She was all too close and yet not close enough. You feel the hot breath of her mouth on yours, it was intoxicating.
“Milchek?” All Helly could do was laugh before making the move to connect your lips and hers. You gasp as her lipgloss merges with your own and mixes with the spit of your hungry mouth. As the kiss deepened Helly leaned you back further on the counter, her hand gripping your waist. Your own hand was still on her bicep, squeezing for dear life as your other hand placed itself on her lower back. For someone who had never kissed someone as herself before Helly was amazingly skilled. She would nip and tug on your lip with precision, unlocking noises from you you’d yet to hear. Now that you had a taste for this sensation you never wanted to part, but unfortunately air was needed. You parted with a wet smack, deep breaths filling the air. You both didn’t move, taking in the moment.
“I-” Before Helly could speak you feverishly clung to her body and pulled her back in. You were not going to give this moment up too quickly. Helly didn’t seem opposed to this notion and quickly continued back in the rhythm. Her hands ran up and down your sides, sending a shiver throughout your body. You were growing hotter by the moment and found yourself cupping at Helly’s body. First her hips, then a little lower to grasp her ass. She responds to your motions with a grunt, which you took as permission to explore further.
Whilst your hands begin to move up again Helly detached herself from your lips. Before you could question her, you felt your neck get attacked by a flurry of kisses. You let out a small whine, trying to be careful as the guys were only so far away, but Helly’s mouth was making it hard to focus. Her lips slowed down into passionate kisses on the side of your neck before finding that sweet spot, the one that made you bunch her clothes up in your hands and shakily breathe out her name. You could feel her smirk against your neck before she started a light sucking motion. Your eyes close in a fit of pleasure, the sensation being the best you’ve felt for your short life. You truly believed it couldn’t get better than this. Your stomach’s heat was growing, alongside something right below. You’ve never felt such a thing before but you quickly recognized it as being aroused.
As Helly’s mouth diligently worked away at your neck, your hands ran up the outside of her dress and found her breasts. Immediately you began cupping them like a starved man. You wish she was wearing a shirt so you could feel them skin to skin, but the dress allowed for little access to such. Without thinking, you grabbed for the zipper of her dress before she slowly pulled away. You almost pouted like a damn kicked puppy as she released you.
With a sympathetic look she whispered, “Not here, they’ll see us.” Her hands were still on your body but you felt absent and pent up. You couldn’t stop, not now, not ever. It had felt too good, how are you supposed to go on your mundane day without such a feeling?
“Please Helly…” You were now begging, pawing at her dress and almost falling to your knees. “Please, I need you. Be my first.” Your pleading clearly had an affect on her as she appeared to be just as disheveled and turned on as you were, which only made you worse.
She leaned in towards your ear, eerily steadily. “Bathroom.” You could only nod, looking in her eyes once more. You let her drag you with one arm, confidently walking with that walk you’ve come to adore. If you could see yourself right now you feel like you’d have love hearts for eyes. You didn’t even mind the fact Dylan was gone when you two sauntered past, or the fact that Mark didn’t even question what the two of you were doing, still on his unresolved rampage. Dude just needs to get laid, you snicker in your mind as you allow yourself to be a ragdoll in Helly’s hands.
It felt too long before you were both in the bathroom, door locked, with Helly’s lips back attacking yours. Before this you never knew how physically possible it was to need someone so bad. Finally, you had the chance to find the zipper on her back and begin tugging on it. Before you get to the bottom you suddenly pull away.
“This is okay that I’m doing this, right?” Above all else, above the passion and lust, you wanted to be sure Helly was comfortable.
“More than okay..” She kissed your cheek. “You can devour me if you wish.” That was all you needed to hear before reconnecting and undressing her. You fumbled with the hook on her bra as she began making her way on your body. You were wearing a shirt and skirt, much easier access than she had been wearing. Her slim hands easily slid under the cotton fabric and under your black bra. Your attempts with her bra only got sloppier as she began to toy with your own breasts, fingertips running over your hard nipple sending a jolt through your body. You’re left breathless as she continues to grope you from under the fabric, swirling over your buds with precision. Whether it was muscle memory from her outie or she was naturally just this good at pleasure you were unsure, but damn were you happy.
Finally, you unhook her bra and her perky tits are released, the cold air causing them to harden. You stared at the display like you’ve never seen anything more beautiful in your life, and perhaps you truly hadn’t. Before you could even think about it, your mouth latched onto her neck and slowly peppered kisses further and further down her body, stopping only just before her nipple. Helly breathed out your name as your lips slowly enveloped the bud, sucking just the tiniest bit releasing a moan from Helly. You smiled, enjoying being the reason for her pleasure and sucked harder. Her hands find your hair and firmly grip the locks, holding you in place. As your mouth worked its magic your hands traveled to her underwear. You lightly push her legs apart and run one finger down the fabric which led to an audible moan.
Before you could continue, Helly pulled your hair up, taking your head with it. “It’s not fair you still get to be clothed while I’m like this.” She stated, surprisingly well put together despite the situation. You can only nod in reaction and she found the hem of your shirt and slowly pulled it over your head. “Beautiful…” She muttered, staring at you like a piece of art. Smoothly, she pursed her lips on the top of your right breast and began sucking. After a short time she pulls away and reveals in the sight of the hickey she graciously placed on your chest.
Then, her hands play with the zipper on your skirt, almost teasing you with how slow she was working with the mechanism. “Helly…” You warned, ready to tackle her as your underwear feels wetter by the moment. She only smiles and pulls your skirt down ever so slightly faster. After what feels like an eternity you’re staring there in your underwear and bra with Helly right across from you.
“Now we’re even.” She teases and steps forward, sandwiching you between the counter and herself. Her hand finds its way towards your underwear, dragging two of her fingers over the cloth. “You’re so wet, and just for me huh?”
“Who else?” You playfully say, pulling her closer with a handful of ass. She rolls her eyes before slipping the same two fingers under the fabric and grazing your folds with them, a shaky breath escaping you. You groan a bit, influencing her to keep dragging her fingers back and forth. Her other hand making its way to your bra, skillfully unclipping the clothing with one hand, and cupping your bare breast. She begins fondling and kneading your skin, it felt euphoric to have her touching so many sensitive places at one time. “Keep going…” Is all you can whisper out as she continues rubbing you.
She runs her fingers purposely over the sensitive bean at the top of your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure to your core. As you’re practically gasping for air she teases your hole with a finger before inserting it into you. Helly curled the finger in and out, touching places you’ve never felt before. You didn’t know such a feeling was possible, let alone achievable with such simple touches. Helly was absolutely addicting. You needed more of her.
You hungrily kiss her once again, which causes Helly to halt in her fingering. You whine at the lack of sensation and begin riding your hips back and forth on her hand like an animal. You should have been humiliated, but all you needed right now was her touch. You felt her hand leave your breast and place itself on your hips, guiding them up and down her finger. You begin panting from the combined movement and increasing pit in your stomach.
“You feel,” You grunt a bit, not able to form full sentences, “so good.” It didn’t take long for Helly to add a second finger after your statement, making your back arch against the cool tiles.
“Good, good. That’s why I’m here baby.” Helly coos in your ear, now adding her own motion against your rocking hips. Her thumb was now rubbing over your sensitive spot at the top while her other fingers were effectively exploring every spot of your inner core. You didn’t know how much more you could take with the pit in your stomach growing fast and hard. It felt so overwhelming and yet you never wanted to stop. Your loud moans filled the bathroom and you couldn’t bring yourself to care if others could hear. In your world all it was right now was you, Helly, and her fingers violating your insides.
Upon hearing your sounds of approval Helly whispered in your ear, “You almost there beautiful?” You could only nod, feeling the band inside you coming so close to snapping. “That’s a good girl, let it happen.” Her words filled you with something you couldn’t describe and, all too suddenly, you feel yourself let loose. A surge of endorphins send themselves throughout your entire body, from your brain to your fingertips to your toes. There was no feeling like it, pure bliss. Helly’s fingers were now slowing down, feeling your walls clench on them. She slowly pulled out as you leaned your sweaty body forward and kissed the side of her cheek.
“I hope you had a good first time.” She whispered to you, her head resting on your shoulder and her hand rubbing your back with fondness. You nodded, exhaustedly. Who knew such a wonderful feeling could take so much out of a person? But you weren’t done yet.
“I did,” You muttered against her cheek, “And now it’s your turn.”
“Wha-” Before Helly could finish her question you flipped her over so she was now leaning on the counter.
“You really think I’d let you do that to me and then not give you the same treatment?” You say it like it should be so obvious, which in your opinion it should. You tap on the counter behind you. “Up.” Helly nods and does as you wish. With how assertive she is at times, she can also be so beautifully submissive to you. “Lean back.” She follows without question, washing as you now look at her on display, only her underwear remains. That will have to change. With a swift motion you take off the fabric, they were ruined anyway. Now all that remains is the beautiful image of Helly staring at you with full attention.
You take your hands and slowly pry her legs wide open. You lean forward, sure with your motions as your lips meet her slit. You drag your tongue up, slowly but surely, eliciting a quick shiver from the woman before you. Then, a slower drag. Then faster. You began to pick up a rhythm, one that Helly seemingly agreed with as she began practically grinding on your face, not wanting the motion to stop. “Yes, right there!” She pleads, encouraging you to keep going. Your nose was ever so slightly hitting her bud, increasing her pleasure. You could tell she was getting close by the way her breathing quickens and her motions get sloppy. After about thirty more seconds she unravels in front of you, riding her high through your persistent licks and motions. Shortly after you pulled away and watched as she sat up.
Even in her disheveled state she looked utterly beautiful. You looked at her as if she were a piece of art and wrapped your arms around her waist, a motion she returned. “Thank you, for being my first.” She whispered, embracing your body.
