theoldguardkinkmeme | Fills Post

Fills Post

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He texted her a few days later to tell her yes. No matter what she said, he didn’t really believe that in two months of Thursdays she could free him of the guilt and angst he had been carrying around for years, but he was so tired of feeling so rotten that he was willing to try anything. Besides, he reasoned, it’s not as if whatever punishment she could cook up for him could possibly be worse than what he had voluntarily allowed people to do to him over the past weeks. Probably it wouldn’t help, he reasoned as he waited for her to reply, chewing on his thumbnail a bit nervously. But it couldn’t hurt either.

His phone rang, and he picked up before he could talk himself out of it. “Yes boss?” He answered, blushing a bit as he realised that he had let the nickname slip. He had heard Nile and Nicky call her that and it had sort of caught on with him, but he hadn’t said it out loud to her yet. If she noticed, she was kind enough not to say anything. “I’m glad that you’re willing to try,” she said. “We care about you, you know. All of us do,” and, well. He guessed at some level he knew that, knew they wouldn’t waste their time with him every week and occasionally more than once a week when they would meet up for dinner or drinks outside the club, but it still made his heart skip a beat to hear it. “And we all want to do what we can to help you, because we hate to see you hurting like this.”

“Thank you,” he said in a quiet voice, fighting down the urge to tell her how it was more than he deserved. “What do—what do I need to do?” She hummed, thinking. “Well, most things I’m going to take care of before I see you next Thursday, but I need to know your limits, both hard and soft.”

“I don’t have any,” he answered easily, and she couldn’t help a little sigh. “You know, I thought you might say that. Nile had an idea, actually, that she thought might help you articulate them,” and if Booker’s heart beat a little faster at the thought of Nile trying to think about what would be good for him, coming up with something to help him, well, nobody had to know about it. “I’m going to send you a sheet, okay, with a list of things. It’s the same one I normally use with people, where they can mark off what their kinks and limits are. Except that you get a special rule. I want you to mark a number between 1 and 5 down for every single thing on the list, where 1 is something that you would really rather not do and 5 is something that’s one of your favourites. And you must mark at least five things as a 1 and 5 things as a 2, understand?”

Booker wanted to protest, but he also wanted to start this off on a good foot, so he just nodded a little meekly, then realised she couldn’t see him. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I’ll do my best.” That earned him a fond chuckle. “I know you will, Book,” Andy said, and her voice was so warm that Booker felt he could almost curl up into it.

“If you feel up to it,” she suggested, “I thought it might be nice to go do something fun tomorrow, all of us. We won’t talk about your form or any of this, just a friendly outing? It’s supposed to be nice weather,” and he knew what she was doing, she was trying to remind him that despite his confession, despite whatever she was going to do to him over the next two months, they were still friends first and foremost. He knew what she was doing, but he still appreciated it, and he had to pause for a moment before he could answer, a little choked up. “I would like that,” he replied carefully. “Just text me where to meet you.” “I will,” she replied. “And I’ll send you the form, can you fill it out and get it back to me by the end of the day?” He chewed his lip, nodding. “Yes bo—Andy,” he corrected swiftly, but not swiftly enough, because when she got off the line she added one last thing. “And Book? You can call me whatever you want,” she said gently, and he was glad that she couldn’t see him blush.

Filling out the form proved to be just as much a challenge as he had expected. He had it almost finished, then looked back at it and realised that he hadn’t marked anything as a 1 and only had a handful of 2s, and groaned, ripping the paper up and printing off a fresh copy to try again. He bit his lip so hard he tasted blood, trying to concentrate and think about what things Doms had tried that had made him feel even worse than his baseline misery.

The memories resurfaced, slowly, and he wrapped himself in a soft blanket as he shivered a bit involuntarily. Carefully, he started to pencil in things that he didn’t like, even writing some details next to the printed list to make it clearer what he didn’t like. Being left alone, especially if he was blindfolded, was a 1. Being called dirty names was a 2, fine in moderation, but he didn’t like it when it turned too mean and he didn’t like being called a whore. It was late in the night by the time he finished, and even harder than coming up with the 1s and 2s, somehow, had been coming up with the 5s. He felt almost embarrassed by them, how they were a strange mixture of hard kink (choking, knives) and sweet simple things (serving someone, being praised—that one he wrote 5++) but he told himself not to overthink it.

At the bottom of the page, right before he sent it back to Andy, he wrote, in slightly shaky letters, “I just want to be good.”

Aw, Booker :( also yay, Nile helping him write down his limits.

Also I really like Andy in this? I feel like it's easy to characterize her as a harsh person but there's so much caretaking in this, I really like it

Thank you very much! Andy is one of my favourite characters and I feel like even in the film she has a unique mixture of toughness and caring that I’m trying my best to replicate here :)

"I just want to be good" oh my god kill me this is beautiful! I love how Nile was the one who told him that yeah, you did a bad thing, but that doesn't have to be your whole identity. I love this so much!

Thank you so much! I’m having so much fun writing it and I have a lot of feelings for Booker!

[[just a little soft interlude before they start in on piecing Booker back together again! Also, please—anyone who has suggestions of things they would particularly like to see, feel free to chime in! It’s hard to come up with two months’ worth of punishments for our sad depressed Frenchman ;)]]

True to Andy’s word, she texted him an address to meet at the next day, and when he arrived he found to his surprise that she had picked a fall festival for them to go to. It wasn’t the first time that he had met up with their group outside the club, but there was still something funny about seeing them so casual. Andy and Quynh were already there, leaning against the entrance, when Booker showed up, and if Andy still had her trademark leather jacket and boots on, Quynh looked surprisingly soft in a long burgundy sweater, leggings and ballerina flats. They were holding hands, Booker realised, and didn’t make any move to break apart as he approached.

“Fall is Quynh’s favourite season,” Andy explained with a grin at her wife. “She likes to try and fatten me up with apple cider donuts and get way too competitive over pumpkin carving.” Quynh rolled her eyes, squeezing Andy’s hand. “Just because I’m better at you with a knife,” she huffed, and Andy groaned in mock outrage. “Slander and lies,” she complained, and then gave Booker a sidelong glance. “Maybe sometime we’ll let Booker judge who’s better with a knife,” she remarked with a wink, and he groaned, because he knew then that she had already looked through his form and seen that he marked that as a 5.

Joe and Nicky showed up next, on a ridiculously sleek motorcycle that Booker had no idea they owned and was incredibly jealous of, and Joe didn’t say anything, just pulled Booker into a tight hug, and Booker knew that Nile had followed through on her promise to tell Joe and Nicky what he had confessed. “Thanks,” he whispered, leaning into Joe’s strong arms and hugging him back, soaking up the physical contact. Nicky shot him a bit of a shy smile, as well, and Booker thought again how lucky he was to have met such good friends so soon after his move.

Copley ambled in a moment later, and to Booker’s surprise he also pulled each of them into a quick hug. Out of all of them, Copley was probably the biggest enigma for Booker—something that went beyond the unspoken mystery of what he did for his day job. He liked the man, but he didn’t feel like he knew him well—admittedly, it was also unusual for him to spend time with another sub. He couldn’t even figure out if Copley had a more established relationship with one of the bunch in particular—he seemed to just sort of flutter between them, accepting caresses and beatings from whoever in the group felt like giving them out. He clearly was theirs, though—Booker had never seen him do a scene with someone outside their little group of friends.

Nile was last, practically running up to them, a little out of breath, and Booker’s own breath caught as she leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek hello. “Sorry, sorry, I was babysitting my little nephew and my brother didn’t get back in time,” she apologised, and Booker brightened a bit. “Oh, you have a nephew? How old is he? Do you have pictures?” Nile chuckled. “Never ask a proud aunt that, you’ll end up bored to tears looking at 10,000 photos of a baby I think is the cutest in the world but you probably think looks like all the other babies,” and he shook his head adamantly. “No, I won’t, really. I love kids, always wanted some but—“ a flash of pain across his face. “Well, it didn’t work out for Emilie and I.” Hating the way his eyes had turned dark and a little lost, Nile fumbled with her phone, pulled up a photo of an adorable curly-headed little boy, maybe about 3 years old, in a dinosaur onesie that was clearly too big for him. “Meet Gabriel,” Nile said proudly, and Booker felt his heart melt a tiny bit. “Oh my God, he’s adorable,” he exclaimed.

“Niiile,” Quynh whined impatiently. “Show Booker your adorable nephew later, I’ve been craving mulled cider and a donut since yesterday and Andy wouldn’t let me go into the festival until you all showed up,” and Nile laughed good naturedly and assured Booker that she would show him more pictures later.

It was a really nice day, Booker found himself thinking as he sat at the pumpkin carving table, carefully doing the dirty work of scraping out the insides of the pumpkin so that Nile could carve it. He felt content, here, with these people who were so nice, who knew the worst thing he had done and still wanted to throw hay at him on the hayride and make him bet on how many apple cider donuts Andy could eat in a row. Copley had pulled him aside at one point while the others were bobbing for apples, had told him in a quiet voice that his own wife had died three years before, that if he ever wanted to talk about it it was an option. Booker thanked him, but he knew he wasn’t ready for that—but maybe one day he might be, he thought.

He felt hopeful, for the first time in a long time, that maybe Andy could—if not fix him—maybe she could at least help him not feel so awful all the time.

He finished scooping out the pumpkin, looked at it with a critical eye to make sure it was good to go, and handed it to Nile with a smile. “Ready for your creative genius, ma petite artiste”, he said, and she reached over to ruffle his hair. “Good boy,” she said softly, and he dipped his head but he knew that it wasn’t enough to hide the way his cheeks flushed, and even though he knew himself, knew that the guilt and the misery would come creeping back in sooner or later, in that one moment he didn’t care.

awww what a sweet fall outing. also good boy Booker, yes, good shit.

This is sooo goooooood!! I am so excited for the next update!

the idea to require Booker to fill out 1s and 2s is genius.

serving someone, being praised—that one he wrote 5++
I am 10000% here for these kinks.

also “I just want to be good.” 😭😭😭

Thank you! I feel like dealing effectively with Booker requires a lot of creativity so I’ve been trying to think of what I would actually do to help him 😂

I knowww he will have to earn them though :)

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