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“You’re staring.”
The comment made the reagent, cross legged and silent across from Amelia, pause. The sleep room suddenly felt still, even more so than normal. The soft patter of bare feet outside the thin door was a momentary concern as Amelia’s eyes shifted up to focus on the girl with a passive disapproval. It had been a long day, trials exhausted and rewards unfruitful. But this was the closest the two had to unwinding.
“You always stare…” Amelia hummed as her fingers worked impulsively along the Heal Rig at her mercy. It wasn’t Amelia’s property, the reagent knew this. She had watched Amelia pluck it from the body of a friend a few days ago, stashing it in her breast pocket with the quiet and familiar guilt of robbing the dead.
Her fingers were trying to pry open a small crack between where the shell of the equipment met, and the rust on the ancient piece was putting up a familiar fight. It was one that normally ended with at least one broken nail, sometimes a few curses of disappointment. The contents of the copper oyster was fruitful- which only strengthened the growing aggravation. Eventually she had enough and dropped it in her lap, hands settling on her calves as she fixed another glare up at her peer across from her, who had yet to respond to her comments.
Amelia leaned in slowly, her head tilting to the side, and a soft grunt escaping her as she watched the girl’s eyes follow her. Amelia watched as this reagent adjust slowly in her spot, scrappy pants straining against her knees as she scooted closer to the rig, taking it in her own calloused and exhausted hands.
“You’re so careful with it, even when you’re upset.” The girl finally answered, voice small and distant at the start “I just like watching you work, is all.”
The reagent’s hands were thicker than Amelia’s own, but despite this, she cupped the sad, abandoned old rig with caution as though it was its own living thing. Amelia found this comedic, due to the Reagent’s lack of care for her own heal rig- one she used rather recklessly in the trial environments, eager to volunteer it the moment Amelia got so much as a scrape. That’s just how she always was, insisting it was no problem at all. Was this rig more valuable because it belonged to Amelia? Or just because it didn’t belong to the reagent?
“Watching me work?” She pursed her lips as she watched the other girl’s hands picking at old rusted crumbs of paint and caked aging of the metal “I doubt it’s so entertaining. Not compared to arm wrestling or… Why don’t you ever do that? The games? With the others. You’re really fine just sitting with me?”
The girl finally released the heal rig, carefully dropping it in her own lap “Do you not like our time together? If it’s bugging you, I don’t mind-”
“No, not what I said. I asked if you really think sitting here, bored out of your mind with me, is worth your time. Especially in a place like this. Seriously, time is precious… I just don’t get why you’d…” Amelia finally sighed and rubbed a hand across her face “Why do you stare at my hands so much?”
Amelia watched the girl blink, and then again, before a sheepish grin crawled to her face “Oh, sorry.” She breathed out finally, an unsatisfying shortness to the words that didn't settle right in the cramped room.
The brunette pushed up her glasses and sighed “No, no. That’s not an answer.” She shifted closer, reaching out with long, slender fingers and cupping the girl’s hands firmly in her own “Why?”
Amelia watched as the Reagent’s posture tightened, eyes flickering for a long moment to focus on the hands tightened to hers, a moment of hesitation evidenced in the prolonged silence. Complex eyes roll back up to meet hers, and quiet begging for the subject to be changed. But Amelia, as insistent as ever, only squeezed her hands tighter “I have the right to know, yeah? You’re in my company.”
The Reagent nodded in a way that was almost bashful, her lashes downcast as she tried to sit back slowly “I do just like your… I like the way you touch things.”
She paused at this, and her head tilted to the side as her eyes narrowed in confusion “The way I… touch? Things? Sweetie, that’s a bit…” Amelia trailed off, her mouth slightly agape as her mind wrapped around the idea. She looked down at her own hands- scarred, long and bony. She had certainly worn them down through struggles and recklessness, and while she admired them as tools that put her in and out of trouble on the streets quite often, the tone the reagent regarded them with felt strange in her stomach.
“No, no, that sounds dirty. I’m not-” The reagent cuts herself off quickly, and her eyes shift back down to the rig “You’re gentle with things. Sometimes I forget we’re still capable of stuff like that. Just… holding something, not destroying or mauling or cutting or- whatever the fuck that man wants from us.” She pauses and looks back up at Amelia, eyes softened as that reluctant smile rises to her lips “You remind me of the good things so much, Amelia. You’re all the good things.” It comes out in this whisper, voice breaking slightly as she inhales sharply.
Amelia paused, her mind failing to match a response to the confession. Instead, Amelia released the Reagent’s rough hands, and scooped her palms up to cup both sides of the girl’s flushed face “Oh… honey…” She finally breathed, eyes gentling as she watched the girl's face shift.
Her thumbs came to rub at the cheek bones of the woman not an inch away from her, watching as she melted against her hold like a pet curling up for rest. Amelia watched those eyes flicker up to meet hers, relaxed, warm. And there was this normalcy to it, this faint, unfamiliar taste of domestic comfort. Amelia hums gently, and her left hand moves from the cheek, tracing up into her hairline as she combs the hair back gently with her nails.
Amelia smiled as the girl sighed, her eyes fluttering shut for just a moment as she savored the attention, the subtle and silent act of devotion “Amelia…” She finally utters “You’re perfect. Just… Just perfect…”
“Shhh,” Amelia whispered gently, shifting closer “Come here, honey. Just relax a little.”
There is a sweet silence, a calm that comes over the room as the reagent rests her head against Amelia’s chest, warming her face against the rough fabric of the cotton suit of Murkoff’s branding. Amelia smiled softly as she continued to brush back her hair along the curve of her scalp, soft hums escaping Amelia’s throat as she continued. The reagent took in a long breath, the smell of sweat and grime, oil and copper- in any other place it would alarm her, but in Sinyala it became a comfort, a reminder of the girl in crooked glasses that always settled her nerves.
“You deserve good things, baby. We all do.” Amelia finally spoke, her gaze gentled as she curled a lock of slicked back hair around her finger, watching it twirl and loosen, falling back into the sea of locks “I want to give you good things, you have no idea how much I want to give you."
The reagent shifted once again, eyes flicking up to meet Amelia’s, a soft smile playing at her lips “I’d like that.” is all she says, her hips shifting to press closer against Amelia’s thin frame.
Amelia’s hands travel again, one moving lower, catching her chin in a gentle caress, and her other tangling in the hair at the back of her head, just above the nape. A moment of hesitation before leaning down and pressing her lips firmly against the other’s. The reagent paused slightly, not for long though, quickly falling into the rhythm of the kiss, her eyes relaxing into a long blink as she found her own hands cupping to Amelia’s slender hips.
“Mm, honey bug…” The Reagent breathed out, strengthening her grasp of Amelia’s hips and carefully nudging her closer “C’mere…”
Amelia sighed gently, the pet name weakened her like heat to a candle, and she found herself silently shifting closer until she straddled the lap of the woman begging for it with her breath, her eyes shifting over the flushed face, as her hand moved to cup the cheek once again “Needy thing.” She whispered “Starved, hmm?”
The reagent huffed lightly and nodded, looking up to Amelia with those pleading eyes, desperate and aching like a lost doe. Amelia tsked gently, squeezing her cheek firmly in her grasp “Can’t have that, not for you, sweet thing. My girl needs to be spoiled.” It came out in a low drawl, the smile in her voice clear and pointed.
A longing whimper escaped that reagent, who watched closely as Amelia raised her spare hand to the soft lips that trembled lightly, inhaling shakily as Amelia dragged her index finger across the pouting flesh. There was a pause, a moment of eye contact between the two that twisted the nerves in Amelia's guts to act “You like my hands, sweetie? Show me.”
Amelia pressed two fingers into the gap between the lips, and the reagent didn’t hesitate to follow the lead, mouth aching to suck and lap at the digits as they wormed across her tongue. She watched the girl’s eyes flutter shut as she moaned, the taste of metal and rust tang on her eager palette, but it tasted like Amelia, tasted like that perfect girl. She could get high on the scent of her alone, a smell only growing stronger as she felt Amelia’s own breath hitching in her throat, eyes wide as she watched her fingers being savored like a honeysuckle in early spring.
“Ah, good girl, good.” Amelia sighed gently, scissoring her fingers in half and watching spit drool across the bottom lip of the woman’s panting mouth. She watched the tongue dance, her breath warm with the scent of mint toothpaste and slight metallic, tainted by the fingers she so eagerly worshipped.
Carefully, Amelia pulled the fingers from her lips, a hesitant act as she leaned back, watching in admiration as slobber dripped freely. The reagent watched with shuddered breath as Amelia brought her fingers to her own lips, licking a long stripe tracing the mess across her own hand.
Amelia grinned as she watched the reagent squirm, eager to gain Amelia’s attention back, eager to entertain her once again. She pouted for just a moment when Amelia shimmied off her lap, only to light up again when she felt Amelia’s slender, moist fingers moving to tug at the waistline of her pants.
She didn’t have to ask, just one tug and her partner was eager to unzip and wriggle out of the flimsy pair of hand-me-downs from the Murkoff staff. She stood up, towering over Amelia as she let the fabric travel down her hips and past her calves. She sighed shakily, her bruised thighs trembled slightly, excitement and nerves aiding the rushed strip job. Despite the abuse on the body that Sinyala dealt, Amelia admired the frame of her. The way she stood before her, not as a test subject, but as flesh and blood pumping, eager with need and acting on desire.
“Ah, that's right, panties too, baby.” Amelia hummed gently “Let me see you, pretty girl.”
The reagent nodded and tugged at the thin undergarment, letting them fall down her thighs and puddle at her feet. She carefully stepped out of them and looked at Amelia, gaze filmed in adoration. Amelia smiled up at her and crawled closer, moving between her legs “Good girl.” She praised “Now, take your leg and…”
She trailed off as she moved a gentle hand to the plush thigh in front of her, carefully palming the flesh as she lifted the leg over her shoulder. The reagent gasped, trying to hold balance on her other leg, firmly planted to the floor as she carefully rested the weight of the other along Amelia’s willowy shoulder. Amelia didn’t look bothered by the weight at all, her focus entirely on the vulnerable sight in front of her.
She inhaled sharply, the scent of her warm and musky, her damp folds aching for attention that Amelia was growing eager to provide "That's right," She breathed "Don't worry, I got you. I'm right here."
Amelia took her fingers, dried spittle caked onto them, and dragged the slim digits across her aching slit. The reagent hissed through her teeth, and her lips parted in a stuttered grunt of Amelia’s name- a heavenly noise, echoing off the thin walls of the bare sleep room. She nudged the tip of her finger against the clit, teasing the distressed nerve until the sighs turned into quiet squeals, and then breathy whines, and soon...
“Amelia, oh, fuck… Amelia…” The Reagent sobbed out gently, her shaking hand moving to grasp gently at the messy bob of the girl with graceless worship. She watched Amelia’s face, her quiet but intense focus on her pussy made her heart quiver, even more so when she passively adjusted her battered frames to lean in, and carefully, almost devoutly, pressed a wet kiss to the slick folds her fingers had teased and worked up.
“Amelia…” She sighs “Please, I’m begging, fuck…”
Amelia grinned wide, confidence soaked by the whimpers and the buckling legs of the girl at her mercy as she stuck out her tongue, teasing a feather of a lick over the lips that soaked for her “Mmmm, you’re so cute when you beg, pretty girl. Such a good girl, asking for what she needs.”
Amelia didn’t let her retort, instead pressing the flat of her tongue insistently against the folds of her pussy, causing a sharp cry of pleasure to spill from the girl above her, watching her hips shift against her tongue in quiet pleading. Her finger, pressing now between the folds, working carefully until enveloped entirely by her wet cunt, a sopping mess of pleasure and need. She nuzzled her lips into the throbbing clit, suckling it with a desperation that mirrored the treatment her fingers received just moments earlier.
The Reagent repeated her name in a deprived lament, her throat trembling around the syllables, eyes shut tight as her grasp to the brunette's damaged hair tightened “Please, don’t stop.” She finally pleaded, “Oh, my god, don’t stop.”
“Yeah? You like my fingers in this pretty pussy?” Amelia murmured against the bundle of nerves, her finger curling up into the sensitive sponge of flesh and desire “Such a cute little thing, squirming on my fingers. Got this worked up watching me fidget with that rig? Wishing I’d play with your cunt like it was some old piece of metal?”
“Yes, yes, oh god, yes.” She chanted in response, knees wavering in submission, reaching out to the desk for support as her head fell back, mouth falling open shamelessly “I need you- need you to work me up like that jammer of yours, wanna- fuck- I'm gonna...”
Amelia let out a breathless laugh, the remark throwing her off for a moment as she once again latched onto her clit, swirling her tongue around it adoringly, watching with hooded eyes as the girl above her started to fall apart, humping her hips forward into the thrust of her searching fingers. She scissored them apart, drawing a curse from the lips of her lover, a desperate need in her voice as she drew closer.
“That’s it, baby, cum, all for me. Show me how much you like it.” Amelia sighed, her voice melting against the lips of her cunt like honey “It’s okay, you did so good, cum for me.”
That’s all she needed, the permission, the praise, the gentle tone. Her cunt clenched along her fingers, a pulse that bubbled through her body and drove out a final cry of worship to the pleasure Amelia was willing to provide. Amelia pumped her fingers steadily, her other hand coming up to grasp at her hip for support, as her legs threatened to buckle.
She carefully withdrew her fingers, lapping at them as she slowly slipped the thigh off her shoulder, rising to her feet to capture her Reagent’s lips against her own. Her tongue dipped into her mouth, as she carefully backed her up into the bed, crawling besides her as her lips moved with aching interest. She pulled back, pushing the frame of her glasses flushed against her face so she could properly admire the flushed face staring back at her. There was quiet panting, both of them content in the silence that followed.
The reagent cupped Amelia’s face, and pressed soft, airy kisses along her jaw and cheek bone “Honey bug…” She sighed gently, pulling her closer against her “Oh, what I would do for you…”
“Shhh, mm, I know. You do more than enough, baby.” Amelia grinned and nuzzled her face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the sweet and musky smell of sweat and built up pleasure. She hummed softly and brought her hands to rest along the hips of the girl beneath her “You’re a good thing, too, sweetie. Don’t forget that, yeah? You’re beautiful. You’re more than what Murkoff wants out of you. More than some rig I fiddle with.”
The reagent grinned, torn between bliss and yearning, she settled with a tiny peck to Amelia’s temple “I’ll spoil you next time, I promise. You're not the only one who's good with her fingers."
Amelia laughs gently, laying closer into the chest of the sweaty, exhausted woman beneath her “I’ll hold you to it. Might be the only thing that could get me through another trial.” She sighed gently, closing her eyes. She felt a hand brush through her hair, and hesitant fingers carefully plucking her frames from her eyes and folding them on the table. She dozed off to the quiet echoes of the sleep room, and the now steadying heartbeat of the girl deeply in love with her.
That stupid rig could wait until morning. Maybe a bit longer.