blue flamingos

One Black Feather

Fandom: SGA

Category/Rated: Slash, NC-17

Year/Length: 2011/921words

Pairing: Jennifer Keller/Amelia Banks

Disclaimer: No, I don't own them, for which I should think they're profoundly grateful.

Summary: Amelia and Jennifer try out Amelia's toy box

Series: sequel to Hands On

Author's Notes: "Tickling" for kink_bingo

Feedback: Yes please. Even if it's bad. Especially if it's bad.

hr

"Now it's my turn, right?" Amelia asks when they wind up in Jennifer's room for a second night. The Good Vibrations bags are still on her desk, most of their contents scattered over them. All except for Jennifer's dildo and harness, lying at the foot of the bed where she left them after struggling out of the stiff new straps.

"Yeah," she says, looking at the toys Amelia chose, then at Amelia. "Now it's your turn."

Amelia's grin becomes something close to predatory, her face bright with anticipation in a way that makes Jennifer smile. "Take your clothes off and put the harness on."

Jennifer hesitates, because she had her turn with her toys last night, fucking Amelia until they were both exhausted.

"Don't worry." Amelia cups the back of Jennifer's head and kisses her, slow and deep. "I've got plans for all of the available equipment."

Jennifer, a little dazed just from that kiss, takes her clothes off and puts the harness on.

When she turns around, dick bobbing between her legs, Amelia's looking at her with frank appreciation. It should make Jennifer blush, but it really just makes her want to preen.

"I wish I could take a picture of you like this," Amelia says. "Or get Lorne to paint you."

Evan is one of Jennifer's closest friends on Atlantis, and she's honestly not sure which of them would be more embarrassed. Before she can say anything, Amelia tips her head at the bed. "Lie down on your back."

Jennifer's hyper-awareness of herself only lasts until Amelia starts stripping out of her clothes. She's totally unselfconscious about it, like she's stripping in the locker room, and somehow that just makes it hotter. When she climbs onto the bed with the long black feather in her hand, Jennifer's pretty sure she starts drooling.

Amelia catches Jennifer's gaze and holds it, so the first Jennifer knows of the coming touch is Amelia's finger lightly tracing her collar bone. She starts a little, then stills.

Amelia doesn't say anything. Jennifer's gasp sounds loud when Amelia's finger traces a line between her breasts and over the sensitive skin of her stomach.

"I – "Jennifer starts, but there's nothing else, her brain emptying of everything except Amelia's touch.

Amelia shushes her gently, still not looking away from Jennifer's face as she traces back up the line her finger just drew down Jennifer's body.

A part of Jennifer is expecting the brush of the feather on the over-sensitive trail Amelia traced. A bigger part of her is stuck on the strangeness of the sensation, nothing she's ever felt before and something she's not sure how to categorize.

And then the very edge of the feather brushes at her nipple and she startles, the laugh breaking free before she can stop it.

Amelia quirks an eyebrow. "Not exactly the reaction I was going for."

"Sorry." The feather's still against her skin, and Jennifer giggles again as it shifts when she speaks. "It tickles."

"Oh, really?"

Jennifer knows what that tone of voice means. "Please," she begs without much hope. Which she thinks is actually fair – she wasn't exactly putting a lot of effort into it.

"Beg all you want," Amelia says, her blossoming grin ruining the bad guy illusion of her voice. "It's my turn now."

She swirls the feather over Jennifer's nipple again, then the other. She traces it up Jennifer's sides, down into the crook of her elbows, over the soles of her feet, until Jennifer's writhing under her, giggling in helpless, gasping spurts.

Then Amelia ducks down and licks over Jennifer's breast and the sound Jennifer makes when she applies the feather again can't decide if it's a moan or a laugh. It doesn't matter, not when Amelia's laughing with her.

Amelia keeps going – Jennifer's stomach, the insides of her thighs, the ridiculously sensitive spot in the dip of her collar bone. Her waist, under her arms, and Jennifer's breathless with laughter.

Then Amelia drags the feather the length of Jennifer's cock, and Jennifer's whole body shudders at something she knows intellectually she can't even feel. "Fuck," she gasps.

She means to ask Amelia to do it again, or beg if she needs to, and maybe even if she doesn't. She means to, but this time it's Amelia who breaks into laughter.

"Sorry, sorry," she says before Jennifer can do more than think sluggishly about getting offended. "Sorry, it's – I never imagined you saying fuck."

"I fucked you with a strap-on last night and you offered to suck it," Jennifer points out, emphasis on fucked that makes her blush now Amelia's pointed it out.

"It sounds so wrong," Amelia says, still laughing a bit. "You're so – I don't know. It doesn't sound like you."

Jennifer doesn't know what comes over her – she hits Amelia solidly in the face with one of the pillows under her head.

"Oh, you are on." Amelia's returning fire before the sentence is even fully out of her mouth, and Jennifer's not letting her get away with that, black belt or not.

She's not entirely clear how they go from wrestling across the bed with pillows to moaning as Jennifer fucks Amelia. The clearest thing she remembers after that is coming up from a half doze to find the feather stuck to her back.

She peels it off and sets it on the nightstand, and when she falls back to sleep in Amelia's arms, she dreams of bright sensation and brilliant laughter, and wakes up smiling.


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