Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13949820.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_(Anime)
  Relationship:
      Mila_Babicheva/Georgi_Popovich
  Character:
      Georgi_Popovich, Mila_Babicheva
  Additional Tags:
      georgi/mila, Oral_Sex, Vaginal_Sex, Spanking, Angst, guess_which_Russian
      author_I_pretentiously_cribbed_for_this?
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-03-12 Words: 1441
****** sweet, dirty Mila ******
by Blownwish
Summary
     His time is up and hers has just begun.
Mila, the light of his life, the temptation in his peripheral vision, her name
slips between the tongue and lips: Mi - la, like a song. She is Lala in the
morning as she bends and stretches for the hockey team dogs who pant after her.
She is Babicheva when she enters the rink, a fierce Valkyrie with the fury of a
thousand swords beneath her skates. The dotted line says she is Milana. She has
no precedent. She is a defiant force of nature who makes angels weep and made
Georgi fall to his knees two years ago, when she wasn’t quite a girl or woman.
He remembers how she pressed herself against him. How she whispered in his ear,
saying the making crazy things young girls with crushes say, detonate like
bombs in his imagination. Terrible, crazy, fantastic things that made the world
spin until he had her pinned up against the wall.
“Will you fuck me?” She let the question linger like her smile. “Or I can suck
you. I will suck you off so good, Georgi.” Her lips were cherry red.
He stared as she licked them. As she started to fall to her knees, and then he
turned away, he went away as soon as voices filled the corridor, hiding around
the corner as he gasped for air. But he didn’t escape her, no. She had invaded
his mind and body and soul.
Mila! Sweet, dirty Mila. He tried to forget her with that woman. With Anya. But
no matter how many times he fucked her, no matter how many times she went down
on her knees, all he could think about were the sweet cherry red lips and big
blue eyes and a little laugh that followed him everywhere.
Mila...
He has given up resisting because Anya has left him. He slides across the ice
with no more defenses, no more true love to hide behind. There is only the
present, the moment, and her.
She’s watching him.
She’s always watching him. She sees Georgi turn a triple axe into a single. She
sees Georgi fall. She sees him becoming irrelevant and old as she blossoms. She
is waiting for him.
She is always waiting for him. She waits as he yells at Yakov after he gets off
the ice, with soft lips and lingering looks. She waits at the end of a long
hall, all alone in a hotel room. She waits as the clock ticks at the end of
another long day that brings him day closer to the end.
And she smiles. She always smiles at Georgi. “I can take the frown off that
face,” she whispers as he passes. She should not say such things. But Mila,
sweet and dirty Mila, she doesn’t worry about right or wrong. She is too young
to care.
“How old are you?” He needs to hear it. He needs to remember.
She just laughs. “Old enough to know when someone wants me.” She shouldn’t move
closer, but she does. She pushes herself up against him and Georgi can feel
that tight, firm body presses up against his, and it makes him so hard. “Old
enough to know if I want them, too. And I want you.”
She touches his lips and licks her own. “Mila!” He pushes her into a room with
a door that he slams like a coffin. “You have to control yourself!” He doesn’t
realize he’s yelling but he does realize this is absurd. He is the one with no
control. She is the one with it. And she wields it as she pulls down the straps
of her tank top.
“Oh, really?” She is so beautiful. He can’t stop staring at the small, perfect
breasts he’s wanted to touch and taste for so long.
Somehow the world has turned on its head and they have gone back in time
because he’s pushed her against the wall and she has gone on her knees. His
pants come down. She smiles up at him. “Don’t do this.” He says it slowly,
slurring the words. But she does. She opens her mouth, and Mila, sweet and
dirty Mila, sucks his cock like she’s sucking the life out of him. He groans as
he imagines her doing this to other skaters, hockey players, men and women,
perfect strangers.
She chuckles — even with his cock deep down her throat — because she knows he
won’t stop her now. Then she pulls off and laughs.
Oh, this is youth laughing at him. This is time laughing at him. This life
moving along with all the ferocious power of a beautiful girl. A girl who wants
him. Who has always wanted him.
He takes her down, he pins her on the floor. “Is this what you wanted?” She
snarls when he tears off the rest of her clothes. Wrestles until her arms and
legs are locked around him as he finally — finally! — takes one berry ripe
nipple in his mouth and reaches between her legs.
Mila! Sweet, dirty Mila! She moans when he pushes his finger deep inside.
“Yes!” She keeps saying yes. It becomes a chant as he slips lower between her
legs and tastes her. Licks and dips his tongue in and out and makes her scream
his name.
Then he puts her over his knee and spanks her. “This is for being a whore! For
being a tease!” For reminding me of all the things I will never be! And she
laughs and she wiggles her ass and makes him spank her even harder. Hard enough
to leave the most satisfying red marks all over her ass.
And then she sucks him off again. This time she is quiet and flush and needy as
he grunts and grabs her head and fucks the mouth that’s been driving him insane
for years.
She gasps when he pulls out. “Will you?” Will he what? Will he die? Will he be
forgotten? Will she rise above him like a shining star? She gets on her hands
and knees. She presses her cheek to the checkerboard tile and looks up at him.
“Will you fuck me?”
He should use a condom, but there is none. There’s only Mila, sweet and dirty
Mila. He grabs her. He presses himself inside of her. And she is unspeakably
wet and tight — too tight. She sobs and he feels something give as he slides
deep inside.
“Wait.” She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. Then, incredibly, she
rolls her hips and grinds against him. “Oh, fuck!” She does it again. It is so
— she is so — “Touch me!” She grabs his hand and puts it between her legs,
right there.
She is like a force of nature. She will kill him when he comes. She will kill
him and he will die knowing the way she tastes, the way she looks, the way she
feels as he slams harder and harder into her. And she will never grow old. She
will always be sweet and dirty Mila. Always.
“Oh god, Georgi! I love you!” She grinds against him one last time. Somehow he
isn’t inside of her anymore. He is coming all over her skin, all over the welts
he gave her.
She turns over afterward. “Do you love me, too?” She looks like a little girl
when she asks. Her eyes are so big.
How can he make words describe the fire inside himself? Even now he wants to
push his fingers back inside and watch her come again. Love is such a cool
word. He loves his nieces. He loves his mother. He loved Anya. He burns for
Mila.
She rubs her eyes. It smudges her makeup. “Whatever.” She gets up and leaves an
empty space.
“Mila!” He turns and there is only an open door. He rushes after her but she
isn’t waiting for him anymore. “Mila!” The light of his life, his soul, she is
gone and he has to find her before it is too late. Before he gets another
second older and this fire consumes him, totally and completely.
He finds her on the ice and wonders if it will melt away if he steps on it. He
rubs his face. He can still smell her on his hands.
She looks up. Her makeup is streaked. Her lips tremble. She looks away, then
turns away, just as Georgi lifts one hand, as if he can still touch her. Mila!
Sweet, dirty Mila! The light of his life! His soul! He opens his mouth to call
her name, but his time is up and hers has just begun.
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