i was down to get ✨fingered✨

You have to take a deep breath when you reach the window, you were trying to be so quiet you forgot to breathe, and to control yourself. Every piece of you wants to scramble out of it, but Agatha will definitely hear that. The windows are loud every time she opens them and it’ll be even louder if you knock into it. You carefully climb through. You instincts scream at putting your back to the kitchen but you have no other choice. The lock scrape your skin even as you try to twist away from it. Every second is agonisingly slow. You expect a hand to close around your leg at any moment.

And then you’re suddenly touching grass. You freeze for a moment. The feeling feels so foreign now and you forgot how strong it can smell. Remembering yourself, you crawl forward. Your feet land with a muted thump and you wince. You press yourself against the wall below the window and freeze, but Agatha’s humming hasn’t changed. You start crawling forward, as fast as you can. Ironically, Agatha not letting you walk has given you speed in your escape. The house is surrounded by bushes as tall as trees. At least the windows are. All you’ve ever been able to see is a stretch of grass and the green border. You’ve never seen movement beyond it, or heard anything other than birds outside. Heart pounding so hard you feel like you’re going to be sick, you reach the bushes. You shove yourself to your feet and brute force your way through. The bushes are grown tightly together and limbs scrape you but you don’t feel it beyond the pressure and a few trickles of blood. This is it. The first new sight in— in so long you feel like you’ve been here forever. You stumble free and look around with eager eyes.

Your heart drops, your stomach with it. 

There’s a wall. A flat, wooden wall well above your height. You try to jump high enough to catch the edge, knowing it’s futile. You fingers don’t get anywhere close. You scramble desperately at the wood but there’s no dents or knots to dig your nails in. Panic closing your throat, you step back a few paces and run at it, jumping at the last second to try and push yourself up using the wall. You’re fingers are still a hands breath away from the edge. You fall on your ass, panting as you stare up at it. The bushes are too far away to jump from. What the fuck are you meant to do?

“Well, that’s my entertainment for the day.”

You jolt upright, turning to see Agatha standing there. Instead of the rage you’re expecting, she looks amused. There’s a sharp, thin kitchen knife in her hand. Your mouth is so dry you almost choke.

A door. A wall has to have a door. Doors have handles and things you can climb. You dart sideways, sure you can outrun Agatha’s slow gait. There has to be a way out of here.

All you find is a corner. You turn to try again but Agatha is already behind you. She’s close enough that she’ll be able to reach out and grab you, slice you, no matter which side you run.

She says the same thing tonight. You’d asked to watch the movie in your room instead of the couch so you could properly spread out. Wanda rarely says no to you so you’re both curled under the same blanket. Your shoulder brushes Wanda’s and she soon has an arm wrapped around you. It’s a chilly night and it isn’t the first time, so you easily lean into her. Her other hand starts rubbing soothing circles into your thigh and you barely twitch. She started doing that months ago and you’ve yet to notice how high she’s starting to go. It makes you tingle sometimes but you don’t know what it means. It doesn’t feel bad so you don’t think you need to tell anyone.

You realise something new is happening when her fingers slip under the edge of a leg of your sleep shorts. Her fingers curls to rub the inside of your skin and your leg jumps at the sensitive feeling. The tingling returns abruptly. You turn to look at her.

“Mom?”

She doesn’t look at you. “Watch the movie, sweetheart.”

You hesitate but look back at the T.V. She keeps rubbing in the same spot long enough for the worry in your chest to ease, even if the tingling can’t let you relax. 

Suddenly, her fingers are on the heat between your legs. You tense, legs instinctively pressing together. Now that she’s pressing against you, you can feel the wetness of your underwear. You don’t know what it means.

“Open your legs,” Wanda says, so tenderly it almost doesn’t sound like a command.

You know no one is supposed to touch you there but— but it’s Wanda. She’s taken such great care of you, even though she didn’t have to. She’s so kind, and caring, and it feels so good...you slowly part your legs. Wanda presses her lips to your cheek.