Very Wet Dress
I do not own Alice. I just would like to play around with Hatter for a while.
Just a random little ficlet.
Once in a while, when she's home before he is, she takes out the dress. It usually hangs in the back of her closet; it's not one she wears often. It was bought for the occasion of having Jack meet her mother, but has since come to mean so much more. Alice leaves it in the back of the closet for a number of reasons, but she takes it out for only one.
The raspberry tights always accompany the dress. The first pair survived through a lot. Falling from looking glasses and scarabs and flamingos; running from suits and jabberwockies and reanimated assassins. The thing that did them in was an incident in a coat closet on New Year's Eve, his first in this world. She has since found another pair. It took her two days and several searches into Google but she found them.
The boots are an old favorite. Probably the best pair she's ever owned. After all they've been through together, they have a place of honor on her shoe rack. She dons them with the utmost respect a woman can have for her footwear.
The finishing touch is always added right before he walks in the door. She hears him walking down the sidewalk. He always sings that same song that Charlie had on repeat. She waits until the "Hey nonie nonie" is right outside the window before she hurries and jumps in the shower. Fifteen seconds under the water is all it takes now. Fifteen seconds of cold water running over her carefully selected outfit before she is ready. Then she hops out and hurries to the front room.
It's almost always the same. He walks in, turns around and stops. He always stops. It's as if he's never seen her like this before. His eyes run up and down her drenched body, making her insides warm the same way they did the first time. Only now, she isn't afraid to show it. His face always gets that look, showing her exactly what he thinks of her at that moment. She looks at him, shivering, and always asks him the same question.
"Would you like a cup of tea?"
He never says yes.
The shoes are the first to go. He slowly slides the zipper down and slips them off her feet one after the other. He then carefully sets them onto the floor. The raspberry material sliding against the skin of his curious hands always, always makes him moan. And his moan always, always makes her heart stop.
The next to go are always the tights. His hands disappear under the dress to slide the hosiery down the curve of her hips and butt. He slowly, inch by inch draws them down her wonderfully soft legs, following them closely with his eager lips.
The very last thing is always the dress. It's still soaked, cold against her skin. Sometimes it doesn't even come off. Sometimes, the dress stays on all night, until she is wrapped up in his arms with him softly snoring into her hair. Sometimes, he takes it off slow, like everything else. Sometimes, she's surprised it doesn't tear in half with how quickly he is ripping it off of her body.
And every time, at some point amongst the stripping, the panting, the screaming, and the feeling he mumbles into her ear. He mumbles three little words that always make her come. Three little words that force her to remember that first day, that first look, and that first time he ever said them into her ear, his breath hot on her neck and his voice hoarse with want.
"Very wet dress."
I'm not so sure of how I did on this one.
Feedback is much appreciated. ^_^