Wenclair One-Shots

breathless (Smut)

Summary:

Every so often, between the rippling crack of thunder and rain, Wednesday hears something unusual on Enid's side of the room.

It's moaning, and lots of it!

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Every so often, between the rippling crack of thunder and rain, Wednesday hears something unusual.

It's harsh , like folds of fabric rubbing between each other, near masked over by a breathy sound. A moan, one light and faint, but it can heard between the gaps of the weather.

At first, Wednesday tries to ignore it, yet the grating sound of bedsheets moving become louder and louder, itching in her poor restless ears.

She needs sleep. Wednesday loved the silence of the night and the ambience, but this, wasn't it.

Lightning flashes through the window parting the middle of the room, illuminating Enid's side of the room. Wednesday can see her covers rising over her body, like a cocoon wrapped around her, but it's moving. Fast and quiet, Wednesday can see the lower half vibrate, like a high tide wave crashing against the beach with moans accompanying it.

At first, Wednesday is unsure what is happening. But rolling over doesn't help her little sleepless problem. The sound persists as another crashing of thunder rolls out loud on the other side of the window, booming in her ears.

Though, because she knows that something else is going on, Wednesday can't help but tune in vehemently to the muffled sounds under the comforter.

Staring out nice and wide with both her eyes in near shock, though she doesn't want to put that much effort in an expression she'd only use once, her whites of glaze over and reflect the lightning, painting a clear picture of Enid cupping her mouth to hide her moans.

Perhaps from her fluttery dreams.

Or was it pleasure?

Wednesday is a curious teen and this was one thing she has to find out.

Her voice is short and curt like a mouse, squeaking out in the darkness of the night. "Enid? Everything alright?" Wednesday asks with a modicum of concern, remaining under the covers of her own bed.

With a startled look flashing over Enid's eyes, she turns her head and parts her lips in shock, thinking that she has been quiet with the storm as a backdrop.

Soon, both her hands raise over the hem of the cover, waving in front of her face frantically. "Oh shit, yeah I— I, I'm fine... Just uhhh, been tossing and turning in bed because of a night-nightmare." Enid fumbles her words. It doesn't convince Wednesday.

Wednesday was no stranger to the human body. And with a little bit of detective work, she can see that the edges of her fingers glisten in the night. One from the spit of her parted mouth, the other...

The other from between her thighs.

That means Enid was really pleasuring herself, playing and strumming her fingers between her folds.

But why?

Why now?

Has she always waited for Wednesday to fall asleep to play with herself?

Bluntly Wednesday asks Enid, further pushing embarrassment into Enid's blushing cheeks. "Were you, touching yourself?"

It's as delicate as she could say it. Enid's bottom lip trembles, hating that she has been caught.

A seethe rises out of her lips when another roll of thunder trickles in both their wide awake ears. Neither of them gaze away, looking deep in each other's eyes. It's an odd feeling for Wednesday to look someone in the eye but right now it feels appropriate.