street lights, people
A/N: Hi, hello, greetings, happy Monday! Woo lord I did it. February was hell on earth from a schedule perspective, and the people I worked with completely drained my creativity. Thankfully, I’m now on a service that is incredible and the creative thoughts are BACK BABY! That said, thank you to all you kind people who stick with me when I can’t keep up. And please enjoy this (spicy) chapter!
Warnings: SMUT (fingering, grinding, descriptions of masturbating with a vulva/vagina, service top!Fennec has arrived, dirty talk, a dash of like light loving degradation if you squint?? probably not considered this), vague descriptions of a meal, I have no excuse for this, peds!Reader is just really tired okay
Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY
Word count: 3.1K
February 3rd
Dinner at my place?
You pressed send on the text, hoping your offering would be accepted. You wanted her company and to share food with someone so some of the fresh prep wouldn’t go to waste. You really needed to learn the art of making halved recipes actually produce half of what they usually did.
Something wrong? -fs
No, just wanna share food
...and see you
Time? -fs
You checked your watch. 4:30. 11.5 hours until you had to be awake again.
Can you do 6?
Course. -fs
You slipped your phone back into your coat pocket and went on with your afternoon. Only thing left was to check in with the night team and drop your white coat off in your office. You just wanted to be home.
***
Fennec perched on the counter. She wasn’t sure that she had seen you so focused since that night in the bookstore. But this was different in a way. Then, you had floated through the shelves, letting your hands have their own mind. Now, you were the picture of intensity. You had welcomed her into your home with a quick kiss and a squeeze of her hand, but you hadn’t said much as you led her into the kitchen and gestured at the island to a place that was empty, but had a glass sitting next to it. She took the hint, hopping up and watching as you went back into a flow state.
Every once in a while she would want to make a comment, but every time your hands started moving at a speed she didn’t think was possible for a human to achieve. She wondered how you had learned to cook like this, what prompted you to learn to cook like this, with a million spices and minced vegetables, in bulk. How did you have time to do this?
She got lost watching you, almost slipping into her own meditative state, but was pulled out by your touch. It was brief, if she had been doing anything but watching your hands she would have missed it. As you passed by her on the way to the pantry, her hand brushed over her forearm as though it had its own brain. She searched your face for any sign that you knew what happened, but all she saw was focus. And the dark circles around your eyes.
That was new.
But she didn’t bring it up, not yet. Not when you brushed her knee as you took the plates from the cabinet to the small breakfast nook you had created in the kitchen by the window. And not when you did it again bringing the pan of goodness to the table too.
“Come on, let’s eat.”
Your voice was quiet as you appeared in front of her, holding out your hand to her as she slid off the counter. She let you lead her to her seat, glass in hand. She couldn’t believe the volume in the pan, wondering how you would ever finish it.
“That looks amazing, but I think you would be more suited cooking for a little league team, not me.”
“Oh no, I’m sending leftovers with you. And some are going in my fridge. Others are going in my freezer for a rainy day.” You let out a little huff of laughter as you served the meal and sat down in your usual spot.
“Oh good,” she said simply, wondering when the right time to bring up the elephant in the room that was apparently obvious to only her. You looked content for the most part. You glanced at her every once in a while between bites and sips of water, eyes full of what she couldn’t describe, but surrounded by those damn dark circles.
“So I have to ask. Are you sleeping?”
You stopped what you were doing, wrinkled your brow.
“Uh, what do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean. Your eyes look like you’ve been punched and you’re in this state I haven’t seen before. Whether you’re in some kind of flow state or it’s one step away from being a brain eating zombie I’m not sure.”
She really hoped she hadn’t just upset you beyond repair.
“Can’t sleep,” you whispered, using the volume that made people question if it was you or their conscience speaking.
It was Fennec’s turn to look confused.
“I can’t sleep,” you tried again, “I’m so tired all the time but when it comes time to go to sleep my brain just won’t shut up. I’ve tried everything over the last week since it started. I’ve exercised, that makes it worse. I’ve tried chamomile tea, it just makes me sleepier and causes me to almost cry because I’m so tired and want to sleep but I just can’t. I’ve tried masturbating, but the whole brain-running-in-circles-thing just stops any progress from being made. I’ve tried going to bed early, going to bed later, reading on the couch, reading in the library, reading on the floor, reading medical journals in the bed,” you took a breath finally, “Nothing helps. I eventually go to sleep but then I wake up and it’s like I didn’t get any rest at all.”
You went back to the last few bites on your plate, looking to all the world like you might actually fall asleep. She watched you while she finished as well.
“Okay, Doc. Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to go find whatever book you’re loving the most right now, you’re going to go sit on that couch, and you’re going to read it while I clean up.”
“But--”
“No buts. Go. Chop chop.” She waved a hand at you as she stood up and grabbed the plates off the table to take back to the sink.
“But you don’t--”
“I’ll figure it out. Go. Now.”
You just nodded, not sure why she was so upset with you. You went into the library to grab the book you were actually enjoying in the midst of your exhaustion. You took it back to the living room, perched on the couch. You let yourself sit back for a moment and take in what was happening around you. Your favorite thing was the sound of Fennec in your kitchen. The clink of the dishes, the sound of the water running occasionally. You wanted her to come sit with you but you just listened and eventually let yourself read. The pages started to turn, you fell into the story. You came to the end of the chapter as you felt her presence in front of the couch.
“Feeling better?”
You nodded simply, tucking your feet under you and gesturing for her to sit by you.
“Listening to you in there helped the most,” you said quietly.
“Yeah?” She sat down facing you.
You just nodded, distracted by the way she was watching you and the way her hands rested on her legs. You wanted to reach out and touch them.
Your hands, of course, were moving before you had finished the thought. Your fingers skimmed over the backs of her hands and you shifted to sit on your knees to get closer to her. Your hands continued their journey up to her shoulders as hers cradled your face. You let yourself have a quick inhale as her thumb caressed your cheek and started tracking toward your mouth. As it moved over your lips, you placed a kiss to the pad of the digit. You were focused on her face, saw the way her eyebrow quirked as she pressed down on your bottom lip every so slightly.
You let her.
And you let your tongue slip out for a kitten lick that didn’t surprise her, just made her press further into your mouth. When the first knuckle was at your lips, you let your teeth rest on it while your tongue swirled around her thumb.
Before you could get carried away, she replaced it with her own lips, letting you explore her mouth and rest your arms over the tops of her shoulders. She coaxed you to move to kneel over her lap, letting her arms wrap around your waist while one hand pressed into the middle of your back and the other grabbed the back of your neck. She pressed you closer to her and you groaned against her lips (and against your will) when the movement caused you to grind down against her. Her mouth trailed kisses across your jaw, not breaking contact with your skin until she could whisper against the shell of your ear,
“Do it again, sweet one.”
You moved with hesitancy, just letting yourself brush over the apex of her thighs, testing out the way the seams of your pants felt. She grabbed your hips, giving you more stability. Sensing your reluctance, she encouraged you ,
“That’s it. Keep going, harder if you want to.”
As you experimented with the angles, you found just the right one, started rutting against her with more force. She kissed at your neck and your head fell to the side and your mouth fell open with a soft moan. She mouthed at the place where your neck and shoulder met, but didn’t leave a single mark. She pulled back a few centimeters, your hips stilled.
“What time do you have to be up tomorrow?”
Not what you were expecting.
“4am, same as it’s been for the last couple weeks.”
She faced you, held your gaze, took in your rumpled hair and the slight sheen across your forehead, your lips parted just so as you tried to catch your breath.
“I want you to sleep. Will you let me help you with that?”
You nodded.
“Alright, sweet one. Stand up for me.”
When you were on your feet facing her, she tapped at your hip.
“Go lay on your bed, take these off.”
You heard her doing something as you padded into your bedroom, clicked on the soft lights that you liked when you were intimate. You decided you should probably brush your teeth so you could pass out at some point. You pulled the pants and underwear off, considered removing your sweatshirt. When the slight chill of the room hit your legs, you decided against it but did remove your bra. You turned on the radiator before you went to finish following her instructions. You weren’t quite sure how you should lay, so went for comfort. You leaned against the pillows at the head of the bed, propped up so you could see her come in, and pulled a throw blanket over your legs while the room warmed up.
When she came in, she had taken off her own sweater and pants, leaving her in a tank top and her underwear. She climbed up in front of you just out of reach.
“I have an idea, sweet one. You said you get too far into your own head when you try to touch yourself at night. How about, you tell me how you would usually do it, and I’ll do it for you. You’ll have to stay focused on what we’re doing, and that should shut that pretty mind up long enough for you to come and go to sleep.”
“But…” you trailed off.
“But what?”
“But what if I want to feel your mouth on me?”
“I know how much you like that, but not tonight. Tonight you need to sleep. Tonight I want to know how you make yourself feel good.”
“I understand.”
“Good, now sit up for just a second.”
As you did, she moved to sit behind you so that you were between her legs and she had you lean back against her.
“Go ahead.”
“Um, first I would see if I could play with my nipples through my sweatshirt, see if I could feel my thumbs through whatever shirt I was wearing.” You took a steadying breath as you felt her hands cup you through the sweatshirt. “I’d use my thumbs to test it out.”
Her thumbs brushed over where your nipples stood out, hard still even though you were warm. Not satisfying.
“If I couldn’t feel it, I would slip my hands up under it and play with them directly, just enjoy the sensation.”
She got the hint and you both let out a heavy breath when she rolled the hard buds between her fingers.
“How long would you do it for?” she whispered behind you.
“It depends on the day, usually just until I’m squeezing my legs together and a little desperate to touch myself.”
“Mm, I bet. How are you feeling now?” She pressed wet kisses up and down your neck, wishing she could mark you as hers again but not certain if your turtlenecks were clean. Another time.
“I--I’m a little desperate for you to put your hands on me.” You squirmed in her grasp and she hooked her knees under yours, holding you still.
“Yeah? Tell me what you would do next, sweet one.”
“I would sort of, I guess cup myself is the right word? Put some pressure on my mound, tease my inner thighs with my other hand, start to stroke my outer lips.”
As you spoke, her hands found their way under the blanket, doing exactly as you told her. You would say it felt like when you did it, but that would be a lie.
“You’re so methodical. Am I doing it right?”
“Feels diff--” your breath caught as her fingers found your clit, skimming over it but making your hips jump nonetheless, “Feels different but so good, want to try and make myself feel like this next time I’m by myself.”
That got you a nip to where your neck met your shoulder.
“Keep talking, sweet one. You stop talking, I stop touching you. What do you do next?”
You nodded quickly, adjusting so sitting spread out for her was easier on your hips.
“I would let my fingers tease my labia open, seeing if I was wet enough to keep going, adding a little lube if I wasn’t.”
“I say you’re wet enough, you’re dripping. What’s got you so excited?”
“Mmp, it’s you, you holding me, touching me, feel like I’m on fire,” you managed to get out between the noises she was pulling out of you.
“On fire, huh? Think you’re warm enough to uncover a little? Want to see you.”
You didn’t say anything, just pushed the blanket far enough back that you both could see in your lap.
“I would start to rub at my clit some, just figuring out what feels good today. Other hand would just kind of drift over my skin, pads of the fingers lightly brushing over it. If I really got into it would play with my nipples more.”
You were pretty sure you were going to need a day or two to process just how well she could follow what you were asking for. You knew they were her hands, knew the difference in sensation that was another person touching you, but it still amazed you.
“Let me guess, this is where that pretty little brain of yours would start to drift.”
Under her touch, you were starting to pant, couldn’t do anything more than nod.
“I’m going to do things my way now, little one. But you have to let me know what’s feeling good and what’s not. I need to hear every beautiful sound that comes out of that mouth, I need to feel how you move against my touch. Can you do that for me?”
“Yeah, ‘course I can.”
“Good. Would you like me to tell you what I think about at night?”
“Yes, Fen, please,” your voice became more high pitched as she slipped a finger inside of you, caught your clit under her thumb, tweaked one of your nipples.
“I think about that night when you first let me touch you. How you squeezed me with your legs while I ate this perfect pussy of yours,” she slipped a second finger in, crooked them ever so slightly, not quite trying to find your G-spot just yet, “You tasted so good, loved the way you got so messy when you came.”
Her other hand came back to give your clit some attention.
“A little to the right, please, down just some, ooohmygod right there.”
Your hips had a mind of their own, twitching up against her, chasing that delicious friction, needy whines starting to spill out of your mind.
“I also think about the next morning, you had already had a whole morning before I woke up. When I found you in the kitchen cooking breakfast you had just showered, your hair on top of your head, that black silk robe moving with you,” she went in search of your G-spot now, stroking the spongy area with her two fingers, gave some more pressure to your clit that was positively aching.
“Please don’t stop, please!”
“I’m not going to, baby, wouldn’t dream of it.”
“T-tell me more about that time, one of my favorite memories.”
“Anything you want. I know it was so sweet, you just talking about your morning, making your second cup of coffee. I heard all you said, but all I wanted was to take you back into the library and spread you out on that couch again. I wanted to find all the different ways to make you come apart, wanted to learn more about you like I am now.”
“Want to do the same, want to do it n--” your orgasm cut you off. Tiny little whimpers and a refrain of, “Fenfenfenfenfenfen.”
“That’s it baby, so perfect for me.”
“For you,” you whispered as you came down, her fingers leaving you before you ended up overstimulated. You caught one of her hands, bringing it up to clean yourself off of her.
After you had given the other hand the same treatment, the two of you moved in sync, you curling into her side, your favorite place to be these days.
“Hey,” she whispered as she pet your hair, rubbed your back. “I wasn’t mad at you earlier.”
You looked up at her, curiosity etched on your face.
“I was mad at the way they’re treating you. You do everything for that place, and they take your help away from you, leave you working so hard, not leaving you any time to take care of yourself.”
“It’s really o--”
“No. It’s not. I just wanted you to have some time for yourself, to get you feeling like you again, get you to be able to sleep tonight.”
“I’ll sleep better if you stay,” you hoped the smile on your face and light tone would convince her.
“How did I know you were going to say that? Okay, I’ll stay, but only if you go take a shower and promise to try and be asleep before I’m out of mine.”
“I can handle that.”
You were true to your word. You were mostly asleep when she slipped under the covers beside you, just settling down more and tucking yourself against her.
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Tagging: @promiscuoussatan @phoenixhalliwell @ifimayhaveaword @maybege