leviathan

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The beeping of the electrocardiogram machine was what you woke up to after being attacked by none other than Ghostface— the serial killer, or rather killers. There’s always two, after all— That had been terrorising Wiskayok since the beginning of November.

You don’t understand what you did to be its latest victim— or rather, attempted victim. Because you were still very much alive after being stabbed nine times. In pain and rendered useless, sure— but alive, nonetheless.

You don’t remember much of anything about the attack. It was a Thursday, you had just come home from soccer practice— hair wet, calves sore. And you went downstairs to grab the house phone to call your girlfriend in an attempt to curve your undying boredom. But it wasn’t your girlfriend who picked up the phone, it was him— the strange robotic voice whose only wish was knowing your favourite ‘scary movie’, you spat out ‘Candyman’ with tears running down your cheeks. But, apparently, ‘Candyman’ was the wrong answer. Because the next thing you saw after you cried out your answer to the cord phone was none other than Ghostface— just like in the movies with the mask, the black cloak and the shiny knife who’d soon be covered in your blood.

You lost consciousness after the third stab.

Someone must have come home in time to get you to a hospital before you bled out in your kitchen, maybe your girlfriend called you back and got worried that you didn’t answer the call and went to your house to check— only to find you bleeding out on the floor. Actually, scratch that, you hope that’s not true, you didn’t want her seeing you in, what you would assume, was a deplorable shape.

One thing is for certain, you know you’re in a hospital, if the antiseptic smell is anything to go off of. But, in your current drugged up and hazy state, it’s hard to make out who’s saying what, but you do know you’re not alone, unless the commotion around you is a product of your addled brain.

You try to open your eyes to no avail. It seems your eyes don’t want to cooperate with your brain's demands. So, you’re left with no real choice but to let your ears do the work and listen in like an outsider to try and make out the voices around you.

“Yea, well, she’s my girlfriend so back off!”— Nat, that one was easy, you’d recognise her deep, accent ridden voice anywhere.

“She was my girlfriend too, you know?”— Travis, another voice who was easy enough to recognise. You don’t know, however, why he’s claiming to be your boyfriend when the two of you only dated for two weeks in eighth grade.

“For like five minutes, move on.” Nat counters, possessive as ever. You wish you could give her a sign that you were awake. That you were listening. Most of all, you just wanted her to hold your hand.

Your brain stops processing the conversation after three more voices join in on the discussion. It’s like it only wants to tune in to your girlfriend’s voice, and like clockwork it does. “Do you guys wanna shut the hell up and give her some space?”

“She’s not even awake right now.”— Tai, another voice your brain manages to recognise. Well, one that’s not your girlfriend’s and your ex-fling’s.

You feel so utterly alone and— vulnerable, right now. You just want to make a sound or open your eyes or something to be able to tell them (Nat) that you’re here, that you’re listening. But your brain can’t seem to possess the power to command your mouth and eyes like it once did.

If you could huff out in frustration you would. Because the ‘not being able to control your body thing’ is not only annoying, it’s starting to freak you the hell out. Were you gonna be like this forever? Stuck in a hospital bed and doomed to only listen in to the voices around you and not be able to talk back? To respond? To defend yourself? And what would happen when people stopped visiting you? Were you gonna be stuck with deafening silence and hospital gossip for the rest of your life? What if Nat moved on? What if you never heard her voice again?

‘Nat moved on’ the thought alone terrified you enough into letting out some kind of displeased whine mixed with a grunt— but, hey, at least you did something. Right?

Your eyes are still seared shut, unable to move. But the voices around you quieted down. Like everyone stopped their previous conversation to listen to the smallest sign of life, of consciousness. You manage to make out Nat’s voice calling out your name, before you feel her presence near the side of your bed and her ring clad fingers intertwining with your own.

You could cry at the warmth of her hand enveloping your own. She could always read you like a book— maybe that applied to semi-coma like states as well.

“Princess.” She calls out softly, the pad of her thumb brushing over each of your knuckles. “C’mon— don’t be lazy, I know you’re in there. I heard you.”

‘I heard you’. She heard you. She always did. And she was here. Next to you. And you wanted, so badly, to open your eyes like she wanted you to, but your eyes just weren’t cooperating— until they were.

You can see…

Wait, you can see!

Well, you can’t— much. Currently, you can only see some kind of beige blur with even blurrier bleach blonde hair— which you assume is your girlfriend’s, otherwise this is gonna be awkward as hell.

But you can see something. It’s not all pitch black anymore. So, progress!

It takes your eyes a couple of minutes to adjust to the lights and the external stimulation but, once they did, you could see her, clear as day. There. Real. Not some blur or a figment of your drugged up mind, she was real, and she was with you, and you could sob at the sight of her in front of you.

She looked just like how you expected her to look— in the way that if you had to draw her from memory this is exactly what your mind would conjure up atop a piece of paper. Bleach blonde hair— messier than usual, smudged eyeliner and eyeshadow circling her blue eyes— giving her a look akin to a rabid raccoon who just escaped a mental hospital and her signature worn-out leather jacket. The same one, she’s draped over your shoulders at parties or nights out with the team, many times. But her eyes are redder than usual. Like she’d been crying— bawling even. Your heart aches at the sight.

Natalie lets out a teary, strained kind of laugh before the tips of her fingers find your forehead and brush some of your hair back. “Hey—” She breathes out, while her ocean coloured eyes fill with unspilled tears. “You’re back.”

You don’t say anything in return, just move your head further up, seeking her touch— touch, she gladly gives you by keeping up her caresses atop your temple.

“Hey, you guys, maybe we should give them some space.” Van says, gesturing for the group to walk out the door.

“Van’s right guys we should go.” Jackie seconds.

You hear each member of the group saying something along the lines of ‘feel better’ or ‘I’m glad you’re awake’ before each one of them walks out the door, leaving you alone with Nat.

Nat’s expression crumbles the minute she’s alone with you— like she’s finally allowed to be vulnerable and cry it out. She jumps atop you and lands on your weakened body, only stepping back when you grunt at the sudden contact.

The tears that were stuck in her eyes finally spill out, dragging across her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.” She says before pressing her chapped lips to your forehead. “I— I was so worried about you…” She cries out, her caresses on your temple never faltering, not once.

“I’m okay.” You finally manage, surprising even yourself when the raspy words leave your dry throat.

“You can speak!” She states. But the excitement in her eyes vanishes when she gazes at your distressed expression. “Shit— do you need water? Food? Wait—? Can you eat?” She rambles.

But her rambling doesn’t go on for much longer before a nurse is strutting inside the small room with a less than pleased expression.

“She can’t have any solids, only liquids for now.” She claims, before handing you a plastic cup filled with water. Which you accept gratefully and take small sips from, moisturising your previously, very dry throat.

The red haired nurse then turns to Nat. “You should let her rest, she’ll be here tomorrow.”

Nat’s frowny face does nothing but make you sad. “She can stay.” You then feel her hand tighten around yours, one of her big chunky rings digging painfully into your skin. “Please.” You manage.

The nurse sighs but doesn’t protest further, opting for leaving the room instead. Slamming the door behind her.

You turn to Nat again. A million questions flooding your mind. So you ask the first one, the broader one too. “What happened?” You ask, your voice weak and your throat uncomfortably scratchy.

Nat’s expression falls, and her hand leaves yours momentarily like she’d been stabbed too. But then she regains her composition and holds onto your hand again. “Princess…” She starts. “You shouldn’t be speaking, you heard the nurse.”

Your eyes fill with tears, at both the pain and at how she flat out refuses to give you any type of answer. “Please.” You implore.

She starts rubbing your knuckles again with the pad of her thumb. Circling it, in hopes it will make her next words easier to spill out. “I don’t know baby, I went to your house and the front door was open. I thought your parents were back from their work trip. But, when I came in and I saw you—” She swallows hard, like the memory physically pains her. So much so, that tears start prickling at the corner of her eyes. “—Like that, on the floor…”

“I called you… you didn’t answer…” You manage to say.

Her eyes drop from yours as her gaze meets the ground instead. You don’t know if she’s ashamed or if she just can’t stand the sight of you with IV lines coming out of your arms. “I’m sorry baby…”

You inhale. In and out, painfully so. “He did.” You declare.

Her head snaps up from the ground. “He… who?”

“Ghostface.”

She frowns, you could count each and every crease that’s now present on her forehead. “Ghostface answered… my phone?”

You nod.

“Baby… that’s not possible, you're just confused…”

You shake your head from side to side, offending that she doesn’t believe you. “It’s true. He asked me what my favourite scary movie is. Like in the movies.”

Her grip on you tightens, possessive, bruising even. “But that means he was in my trailer… How?”

“You weren’t there?” You rasp out.

She shakes her head from side to side, denying your claim. “No baby, I went straight from school to your house.”

You stop for a second and think about that. It’s true that Nat always showered at school, and took her sweet time with it too. Soaking up the hot water she often didn’t have at home. But you also showered at school that day, and asked her if she wanted a ride to yours like you always did. And she had said no because of something to do with bills and her mom. And now she was telling you that she didn’t even go home? The whole thing just didn’t make sense. Why hadn’t she gone with you like you asked? You would’ve given her a ride. You would've waited for her. It just didn’t make any sense.

“But… you said you were going home to help your mom with the water bill…?” You ask. Looking at her like she had done something wrong. Or lied. Or both.

“Yea— I was going to… but then—” She stops, like she’s thinking her words through, or lining up her lies. “I didn’t feel like putting up with her, after coach Martinez's insane practice. So, I decided to surprise you instead but… but— then I found you… like that…” Her voice starts cracking again. Like she wants to cry but can’t—

And all worries, all— probably ridiculous doubts and reservations you had about the situation die with the slight crack of her voice and you have the insane urge to comfort her, even though you’re the one currently covered in stitched up stab wounds and various little IV lines, needles and tubes.

Nat slept with you that night, and the following nights too, curled up in a plastic chair by the side of your bed— day in, day out. Until you were released from the hospital.

But the nightmare of ghostface didn’t end with you. In fact, it seemed it had only started. The masked killer had taken two more people— this time both male, both people you were once close with. Jeff, Jackie’s beloved boyfriend— or rather ex-boyfriend now. Was stabbed right in front of Jackie’s house as he made his escape through her roof— leaving a permanent red stain on her pristine, clean, white porch. And Travis, the boy you dated when you were just a kid, your first kiss and one of your closest confidants— was stabbed in the back seven times, the final stab— the one who took his life prematurely, across his throat. Sealing his fate as ghostface’s third victim and second kill.

The school bell rings in your ears signaling the end of the school day. You took too long gathering your things and walking out of class due to the crutches you were still trying to figure out how to use, and now… the hallway is empty.

A cold, dreadful shiver runs down your bruised spine as you're faced with the emptiness of the building, the silence— the same deafening silence you were faced with when you heard the machine-like voice through your house phone and not your girlfriend’s deep, soothing one.

You were already halfway down an internal spiral when you felt a cold hand on the small of your back. The presence was meant to comfort or reassure you even. But it made you scream instead— terrified, vulnerable, useless.

“Jesus— princess. Are you trying to make me go deaf or something?”

Your eyes dart around wildly, taking in who’s in front of you— it’s not a masked killer with a cheap ghost mask. It’s Nat— your Nat.

Natalie raises both her arms up in front of you in surrender, hoping you’ll see reason and stop screaming. “Hey.” Her voice snaps, making you turn your head in her direction and focus on her face. “It’s just me.”

You nod your head up and down like a cartoon character, hoping and praying your recent behaviour hasn’t been putting her off. But you can’t help it, the nightmares, the wound clean ups and bandage changes, the goddamn crutches who seem to bother you more than help. It all starts to become too much.

But Nat doesn’t seem too annoyed by it. Or at least, she doesn’t act like it. She only gives you that same look you’ve become recently familiar with— half guilt, half regret. And grabs your bag and swings it over her shoulder. “I’m sorry…” She starts, genuine remorse in her voice. For what? You can’t tell. “I shouldn’t have sneaked up on you.”

You're about to respond when four more heads join in on the conversation: Tai, Van, Shauna and Jackie.

“Damn, I thought Ghostface had finally come back to finish the job.” Tai commented. Obviously referring to the guttural scream you just let out in the middle of the freaking school hallway.

Nat’s eyes darken, that familiar, ever present, feral, protectiveness of hers shining brighter than ever. “Tai, shut the fuck up!”

“Hey, guys— let’s all calm down, we don’t need to—” Van tries to intervene.

Shauna rolls her eyes. “You’re all acting insane, there’s no such thing as Ghostface, it's just some asshole in a mask.”

“I beg to differ…” You protest, quietly. The crutches you’re currently holding onto for dear life only backing up your claim.

You look to Jackie for some support, some form of understanding. It's not the same but she did lose Jeff. She too was, in a way, a victim of Ghostface. But Jackie doesn’t join in on the argument, instead she’s glued to Shauna— like always, but definitely more so since Jeff’s death. Like she’s some scared little rabbit in dire need of protection— Shauna’s protection. But it wasn’t just Jackie's beloved boyfriend that died that day. Her voice and her undying positivity seemed to have gone with him too. Buried under the soil and consumed by maggots.

Nat puts her hand over your arm— not softly or comfortingly like she had many times. No, this was possessive, almost feral. “Whatever, you fuckin’ losers. I don’t have time for your fuckin’ bullshit. I need to take her home.”

Tai looks Nat up and down. “How awfully chivalrous of you.”

Nat’s head snaps in Tai’s direction at the dig. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“You were always jealous of Travis— Ghostface took him out of the picture. And now, here you are, walking your injured girlfriend home… acting like the good guy, the concerned boyfriend, even… seems a little suspicious, don’t ya’ think?”

Now it’s your time to intervene. This conversation was getting insane. “Tai, what are you talking about?”

Tai turns to you like a primary school teacher who’s about to explain the abc’s for the tenth time to her dumbest student. “Who’s phone did Ghostface answer again?”

“Nat’s.”

She smirks. “Interesting. And who found you, on the floor, bleeding out?”

Your eyes widen in realization once you understand what she's getting at.

“Nat…”

“Tai!” Van intervenes, again.

“This is the dumbest—” Shauna complains, interlocking her arm with Jackie’s and stopping her from drifting away from the group— or the conversation.

Nat— in her turn, tightens her hold on you, like the harder her hand presses against your skin the less likely it is that you’ll believe Tai’s accusatory words.

“I’m just saying, never trust the love interest.” Tai remarks, looking between you and Nat.

Weirdly enough, Nat looks to Shauna for support. And even weirder than that— Shauna offers it, well— in her own way.

“Are you serious?” Shauna asks, to particularly no one before turning her head in your direction. “She’s like the only person in here who actually likes Nat, for whatever reason… Why the hell would Nat try to kill her?”

You swallow whatever retort you had on the tip of your tongue about being ‘the only person in the group who actually liked Nat’ down your throat and listen in to whatever Shauna had to say next.

“Plus, look at her. She can’t even walk by herself. Why would Natalie want that? Now she has to do everything for her. I know I’d be annoyed as fuck being stuck with a fucking cripple.”

Ouch.

Tai smirks again, like she knows something the rest of you don’t. “And the plot thickens.”

Van rolls their eyes, like they’re entirely over this whole debate. “Tai, seriously what has gotten into you?” They ask in a disappointed voice. Like they can’t believe their partner is actually throwing around these useless accusations.

“I’m just saying… there’s always two.”

Van grabs Tai by the arm before either Nat or Shauna have the time to debate, yet again, that she’s either stupid, that there's no Ghostface. Or that nobody on the team was Ghostface and what had been happening the past few weeks was just a product of entirely random circumstance.

After both Tai and Van are out of earshot. You’re left alone with Nat, Shauna and Jackie— who still hasn’t said a single word. Nat and Shauna look at each other with that same mutual understanding that you don’t know where it was born from. Before Shauna grabs Jackie by the hand and pulls her away. And Nat does the same to you. Pulling you in the opposite direction. Not even letting you look back. Or try to connect the dots.

The interior of Nat’s— well technically her mom’s car would be enough to send any sickly child into a coma. You knew that if this was your car that the Cheetos wrappers that coated the floor, would be enough for you to get yelled at for an hour. But, like every other slightly off-putting thing that Natalie does, you find a weird sense of comfort in it. Which is why your face is currently pressed to one of her run down car seats, inhaling the cigarette smoke-like smell that emanates from the leather.

Natalie puts a firm hand on your thigh before speaking. “You don’t— actually, believe that bullshit Tai was saying… Right?”

You lift your head from the car seat and look her in the eye. “Of course not.” You place your hand atop hers and fiddle with one of her chunky rings. “I know you wouldn’t do that to me.”

She exhales out a sigh of relief. “Good.” Her fingers interlock with yours. “That’s good, princess.” Her hold on her hand tightens silently, the same way it always does when she’s nervous… or when she’s about to lie. “You know… Tai’s just way too obsessed with those stab movies.”

“What are stab movies?”

Natalie cocks an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

You nod and turn your head to face her.

“Jesus— Baby. The movies with ghostface? That’s why they keep coming back every ten years or so. Because the killers are usually movie freaks?”

You shake your head up and down as you take in her explanation— and her perplexed expression. “I don’t know, I don’t like horror movies!”

She snorts at that. “Yea, you don’t say.”

“Hey, maybe Van’s the killer. They do fit the ‘movie freak’ part of the profile.”

Nat’s smirk widens as she visualises Van in a ghost mask and a dark cloak. “Please, baby. Van wouldn’t hurt a fly if I paid them a million dollars.” Her eyes return to the road. “Still a funny thought though.”

You laugh like two kids in love.

The rest of the day had gone as usual— or as normal as it can go with a masked serial killer around. Your parents weren’t home, they never were. But you had Nat to keep you company, like you always did. She set your bag on the kitchen table and helped you shower, changing the old bandages covering your wounds for new, clean ones and helping massage shampoo into your scalp.

You fell asleep in her arms to the sound of one of her weird, old movies playing. You weren’t paying attention— way too focused on the feel of her fingertips drawing various shapes across the non injured skin of your back.

So, again, it was all normal. All ordinary. No accidents, no fights, not a single dent in your carefully crafted routine. Until…

You woke up, late at night, to an empty bed. No signs of Natalie anywhere.

You had gotten up, grabbed your crutches that sat idly by the door and made your way downstairs— maybe she had gotten the midnight munchies, maybe she was on the porch smoking a cigarette. But, there was no Natalie near your fridge or outside for that matter. So, where the hell was she? You walked back inside, grabbing your phone to dial 911. Or at least, that was the plan until— you heard commotion upstairs. Specifically the sound of a window being opened from the outside. Had Nat sneaked out through the window to smoke? Why? Your parents wouldn’t be back for another week. Maybe it was learned behaviour. You think to yourself. Or maybe she was just bored and feeling silly. Whatever.

The stairs screech under the weight of your crutches as you make your way upstairs. The sound cutting and annoying. But no squeaky stair could prepare you for what you saw next:

Nat, in your bedroom, bleach blonde hair sweaty, damp and disheveled— that was the normal part. The first thing you noticed, like the blue of her eyes or how her expression softened everytime her ocean blues landed on you. But, of course, you wouldn’t be able to fool yourself forever. Couldn’t ignore the black cloak covering her body. Or the blood soaked knife in her right hand…

Nat’s head snapped to the empty bed and then back at you. Like she just now realised that you weren’t asleep like she thought you were. She takes a tentative step forward, only to watch you step back, a terrified expression painted across your face— one she’d never seen directed at her.

“Princess.” She calls out, but it’s not her voice calling you the loving nickname she always used. It was Ghostface’s— the robotic-like voice that had been hunting your dreams or rather your nightmares for the past couple of weeks, now— in the form of your girlfriend, who forgot to turn off her voice changer.

Nat realises her mistake almost immediately and takes off the device that’s attached to the side of her neck and throws it on the ground, unceremoniously. “Let me explain.” She looks down, ashamed. “Please…”

Your eyes fill with tears, blurring your vision. “Explain what?” You cry out.

She takes another step forward, you retreat until your back hits the wall.

“Don’t run away from me.” She pleads.

You don’t have an answer to that. You don’t want to run away. Don’t want to believe she’d ever hurt you. Plus, it’s not like you could, not with the wounds and the crutches, she’d catch you anyway. And you’d probably want her to.

So, you say nothing. And wait for her to explain herself. No matter what that explanation is. Or, how much it’s going to hurt you.

Natalie steps forward again, with you trapped against your bedroom wall, she’s finally able to reach you. You stand still, so very still like you’re a deer and she's the wolf who’ll inevitably tear you to shreds. She’s still in her black cloak, still holding the bloody knife as she presses her chest to yours and your breaths start mixing together.

“Thank you, princess.” She kisses your cheek. The action so tender that it makes you forget the blood covered knife in her hand. “You know I’d never hurt you. Right?”

You’re not so sure anymore. Two hours ago you would’ve told her that yes, you knew she’d never hurt you. But, now, seeing her dressed like your worst nightmare, you’re unable to provide her with the answer she so desperately seeks.

“Say you believe me. Please. Please, princess don’t look so fucking scared.”

You swallow the knot in your throat and speak without looking her in the eye. “I— I believe you…” You don’t know if you mean it, only that it’s the safest thing to say.

“You mean it?” She questions, voice small, like if you said you didn’t she’d burst into tears.

“Yes.” No.

She sighs, like she’s debating with herself, before her knife-free hand comes to cup your cheek. “I had to, baby… You have no idea how much it hurt me. But Shauna…”

You lift your head from the ground and finally meet her eyes. “Shauna?” You ask, confused, bewildered.

She nods, thumb dragging across your cheek, like you’re some kind of breakable little thing that she must preserve— or break herself, unclear. But her Ghostface act falls flat when her eyes start filling with tears, matching yours. “She was gonna—” an ugly sob escapes her throat, raw, hurt and real, like she was the one who had been stabbed in the comfort of her own home and not you. “And I couldn’t let her I— I didn’t want to…” She wipes at her tears with the hand holding the knife, smearing some blood that was caught on the handle across her cheek. “You have to believe me.” She implored again. “Don’t— go. Don’t leave me.” A continuum of broken sobs escape her throat, one after the other.

Now it’s your turn to let your tears fall free as well. Your girlfriend, the love of your life, the person you trust the most in this whole entire world just admitted that she had broken into your home and stabbed you. And yet— seeing her so broken, clutching you like you’re about to vanish into thin air and begging you not to go, not to leave her, you can’t help but want to comfort her. To tell her that ‘it’s okay’ even though it’s really, really not.

“I don’t understand…” You manage out.

Natalie presses her forehead to yours. “She said if I didn’t do it she’d do it herself… And I knew I could do it and still… save you.”

Your eyes meet hers, foreheads still pressed tightly together. “It’s Shauna, it's all Shauna!” She almost screams.

You flinch as she raises her voice. “Why? Why the fuck would you even do this Nat?”

Her gaze darkens at your words. “Because I can’t fucking lose you!”

“So you stab me?”

Her hand meets the wall right beside your face. The sheer force behind it makes you recoil. “You’re not listening to me.” She complains, loudly so.

You try to push past the fear and the… arousal you should definitely not be feeling right now in order to try and understand what she’s saying. “Then tell me!”

“I just wanted to get rid of Travis, okay?” She cries out. “ And Shauna wanted Jackie and because of that stupid ‘Ghostface returns every decade’ bullshit it seemed like a good enough plan. But—” She starts sobbing again. “It went too far…” Tears start running down her cheeks while snot starts falling from her nose and into the curve of her lips. “It’s all going too far, and… I don’t know what to do…”

You let her bury her face in the crook of your neck. “I wanted to tell you… But Shauna said it was too risky and that she’d kill you if I did…” She presses her damp nose to your skin and inhales harshly, like you’re her drug of choice— and you are. “She said I had to prove my loyalty to her… and that if I didn't do… what I did— to you, she’d finish the job.”

Your head is spinning, your throat is dry and you can hear your heart beating inside of your ears. As you try to process what’s happening and how you became the target in all of it. “So… Now, you’re what? Doing her dirty work?”

“Basically.” She confesses.

You cannot believe this, this isn’t happening, she did not just end up in this fucked up situation only because she was jealous of the guy you dated for like two weeks. Most of all, you can’t believe you’re dating a serial killer. And a stupid one at that. “How many people?”

She shakes her head, like the thought alone is about to make her gag “It doesn’t matter.”

Doesn’t it? It definitely starts to matter at some point. “Like hell it doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She emphasises. “Nothing matters if it keeps you safe— from her.” Her hand finds the side of your neck. Rubbing tight circles over your pulse point, the action soothing her more than you. “And I will, okay? I’ll do whatever the hell she wants if it means she or… anyone else won’t lay a hand on you.” She tucks your head beneath her chin. “You’re mine. You’re all that matters to me.”

You must be really fucking sick in the head because her words not only sooth you but they’re starting to turn you on. You look at her, for real this time. Not with the eyes of the scared victim you’ve been painting yourself as but with your own. And— maybe, just maybe dating Ghostface isn’t all that bad. Because now you know who he— or rather she is. And you know she’s not gonna hurt you, again. Your hand finds her cheek— the side that’s tainted with blood and rubs it across her pale skin.

A beat passes. The silence stretches impossibly thin. Before your lips meet hers. The kiss isn’t soft, or tentative or even forgiving. It’s hot and messy, teeth clashing and lips bruising with the searing heat of your tongue against hers. Only stopping when the need for oxygen becomes too dire.

Natalie pulls back. Her gaze raking over your figure like she’s seeing you for the first time. The cogs in her brain turning until she realises what’s happening and pushes you against the wall again not brutally but definitely not gently either, before covering your lips with her own again and slotting a knee in between your legs.

You grind against her cloak covered knee, making a mess of your underwear. Natalie in her drunk-like stupor presses her face tightly against yours, painting your own cheek with the blood of her latest victim as well. You don’t ask whose blood it is. You don’t care. But one thing is for certain, you are now just as part of this as she is, sharing in her fate and in her guilt all the same.

Natalie starts trailing wet kisses down the side of your throat nipping and pulling at the flesh like she’s a cannibal and you’re her next meal. Your neck quickly bruises with the sheer intensity of her kiss, but she doesn’t stop, she can’t.

She bites your pulse point softly before soothing the bruise with the flat of her tongue, leaving your neck wet to the touch. “You’re seriously into this?” She kisses your throat again. “Are you serious?”

You don’t verbalise a response, letting your moans do the talking and cluing her in on how you really feel. Your hand finds the back of her neck, pulling at the short blonde strands that grow there. Which makes Nat let out soft hisses against the skin of your throat.

But she’s smiling, she’s enjoying this, enjoying that you’re not scared and that you’re liking this darker side of her. She pushes you off the wall and manhandles you into your bed. You fall back into it and she doesn’t give you even a second before she’s covering your body with her own and resuming her attack on your neck.

“You like dating Ghostface, princess?” Another bite. “Answer me.”

You don’t even have it in you to lie. “Yes.”

She snickers, pressing her knee back against your core and encouraging you to grind against it. “Does it make you feel safe?” Her hand finds the ham of your pants, pulling them down and leaving you just in your panties while you rut against her knee. “Does it make you feel powerful?”

Powerful isn’t exactly the word. Not when the stab wounds she gave you weeks ago still sting when you move, or the fact that you still need crutches to be able to walk. But it does make you feel something. You just don’t know what. But the way she’d do anything to keep you safe does make your stomach tingle, and your panties wet.

You grind desperately against her knee, your wetness seeping through the thin fabric and covering her skin. But it’s still not enough.

“What’s wrong baby? Talk to me.” Nat encourages, hands on your hips to help you find a rhythm.

But you can’t voice your needs you’re way too embarrassed. So embarrassed that you can’t even look her in the eye while you rut against her knee. So, you turn your face to the side, only to be hit with something plastic across your skin.

You open your eyes and see Nat’s Ghostface mask, sitting idly by the side of your bed, untouched but so very inviting.

Nat’s gaze follows your own landing on the hard piece of plastic, before a masochistic smirk spreads across her face. “Don’t tell me…” She picks the ghost mask up. “You wanna be fucked by Ghostface princess?”

“Yes.”

Nat’s lips make a little Tsk sound while she moves her head from side to side in a mock disappointed fashion. Her fingers pick up the mask that was previously discarded by the side of your head and toy with its elastic. “Such a little fucking freak, princess.” Her fingers trail the side of your cheek. “I knew there was a reason we worked so well.”

Natalie hopped off the bed for a second, leaving your core throbbing and empty before grabbing the knife she had dropped earlier, and making a show of covering her face with Ghostface’s, the only clue that it’s still her under the mask is the little blonde hairs that poke out from the sides of the costume.

You can’t decide if the sight is cute, arousing or scary. Probably a weird mix of all three. But you don’t have much time to dwell on it before your mask-covered girlfriend pulls your underwear off, exposing your cunt to the cold air of the room.

You tense up while a shiver runs down your entire body— hardening your nipples and heating up your core. Adrenaline? Excitement? You can’t tell. You’re not sure you want to. Natalie lets two of her fingers play with your folds for a hot minute, gathering your wetness and spreading it around your cunt. Before passing the bloody knife to her dominant hand and flipping it so the handle is pressing tightly against your core. You mewl in delight at the intrusion, moving your hips down to take more of the handle inside of you.

The handle slides inside your pussy, easily. Due to how wet you are— stretching your walls and pressing deliciously inside you. You close your eyes at the sensation and start letting out pornografic moans with each stroke of the object.

“Nuh uh, princess look at me.” Nat demands, making you open your eyes and gaze at the masked killer above you.

Natalie twists her wrist and shoves the knife deeper inside you, hitting a particular pleasurable spot that has you curling your toes against the sheets and lifting your hips from the mattress. Natalie uses her knife-free hand to hold you down while she shoves the object deeper into your cunt.

Her left hand travels from your hip, to your belly— grazing her nails atop your stomach and making you curl into yourself at the tingly sensation. Before her index finger finds your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves in practiced circles while she shoves the knife in and out of your hole repeatedly, at a rapid pace.

She climbs further atop you, using her body weight as leverage, so she can go deeper inside you. The mask is now impossibly close to your face. And you can feel her breathing hard against it while she works the knife handle deeper inside your pussy.

You look up, eyes now solely focused on Ghostface. Watching how the mask twitches and moves while Nat shoves the knife up your entrance and works on your clit. The thrill, the double stimulation, making you throw your head back onto the mattress and sing praises to the killer fucking you. You’re getting close, so incredibly close to falling apart beneath Ghostface herself.

Nat feels it, she always feels everything, knows everything. “Are you gonna come princess?” She taunts, while speeding up her movements inside you. “Hm? Are you gonna come for Ghostface? Say it.” She pinches your clit. “Say it!”

“Yes— yes, I will, please just…”

You can’t see her face right now, but you know she’s smirking under that damn mask. “Right answer.” She presses the knife even deeper inside you, your pussy swallowing the entire handle, so much so that you’re worried that you’ll end up cutting yourself due to the sharp part that’s now almost touching your folds.

Ghostface’s mask presses to your face while you come, the cold plastic making contact with your hot, sweaty skin while your hips bob up and down the length of the knife greedily, coating it in your juices and letting it spill onto Natalie’s hands.

She lets you ride the inanimate object for as long as you please before withdrawing the blade and throwing it on the ground. Leaving you panting and with a pleasant ache between your legs. You tilt your head up and are met with the same— terrifying mask. But, instead of screaming you just want to laugh at the absurdity of what just happened.

And you do just that, encouraging Natalie to do the same until you're both two giggling messes atop your bed.

Natalie takes the mask off and snuggles closer to you, her bleach blonde hair tickling the side of your face. “Jesus, princess, you're completely nuts.”

You shrug, unphased by the wording. “Takes one to know one, Scatorccio.”

Her lips meet the top of your head and curl into a smirk before pressing a kiss to that same spot. “Yeah, well…” But she doesn’t finish her sentence. Instead, she lets the quiet befall you both before breaking the silence. “I’m such a goner, baby.”

“What do you mean?” You question.

She scoffs, but pulls you impossible closer to her nonetheless, like she’s trying to merge her skin to yours. “You see what you do to me?”

You don’t know what to say to her, she did this to herself, you didn’t ask her to become Ghostface, and certainly not to do it to protect you from Shauna— or to have an excuse to kill anyone that breathed near you too hard. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Yea, right.” She responds in kind. Her hands gripping you like you’re about to disappear.

“Maybe I can help.” You ponder. “I mean— I already know what you’re doing. Would be easier, safer… Right?”

Natalie’s hand stills on your back. Carefully considering your words. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying Shauna isn’t immortal.”

Natalie’s head snaps at that. Her elbows digging into the mattress as she takes in your serious expression. “You want to kill Shauna?”

“No…” You start. “I want you to kill Shauna.” You finish. Giving her time to process what you just said.

Natalie’s face falls on the ghost mask again, now discarded to the side after your lewd use of the same. “Okay.” She says, a hint of uncertainty coating her voice. “But— who’s gonna help me with… the ghost business I mean— I can’t stop now.”

You fucking knew it. She acquired a taste for it. The blood. The screams. The uncertainty. The fame. She wanted it all. And you weren’t particularly against it. If anything you revelled in it, in her darkness, in her darkest impulses. On how good she looked covered in blood.

“I will.” You declare.

And two Ghostfaces became three. Until Natalie eliminated Shauna, like she promised. And it was two all over again. Just like the movies intended. Just like it was always meant to be.

After all, your movie would have fucking stakes. Unlike all the previous, extremely boring ones.

[ TAGLIST ] ✃ @wond3rland13 @mchailover @marieeme @fragileweirdooo @conamoney-11 @vanpalmersnumberonefan @jazzyheheheee @watersapple @sillyemanusz @ludoesartandstuff @mangoslayy9 @rastharex @stupidcupid28 @ilovelightningmcqueen @scatorcciosbabe @glassypze

You don't get up from the couch. You sit there, legs curled under a blanket that still smells faintly like her. The hoodie she left two visits ago, before she remembered to take it or maybe chose not to, lies draped over the back of a chair. Still damp from when you washed it. Still sacred. Still poison.

The rain keeps falling, and you keep waiting.

Because she only comes when it rains.

You told yourself the last time was the last time. That you'd change the locks. That you wouldn't open the door. That you'd leave, go anywhere, check into a motel and let the night swallow her knock.

But when the thunder hits, low and foreboding, your body flinches like it remembers her mouth before your mind does.

She's ruined you, not just in the bedroom, not just in your bed, but in your existence. The way you sleep half-dressed, waiting. The way you keep your lights low in case she needs the dark. The way you leave water bottles on the nightstand, painkillers in the drawer because you know she comes bruised. You know she comes hollow. You still want her full of you.

Your phone vibrates once. You don't look. It's not her. It's never her. She doesn't call.

She knocks.

01:13 AM.

You're pacing because you're afraid if you sit still for too long, you'll shatter.

You catch your reflection in the window. Rain streaking down the glass, city lights blurred behind you like faded memories. You look tired, like someone who's rehearsed a hundred conversations and still forgets to say no.

You stare at the door, and tell yourself that she's not coming, and if she does you'll tell her to go.

Three soft knocks.

Your breath leaves your body in a rush. You don't move. The rain muffles everything. The room feels to small.

Another knock.

Three, again. It's always three, asking for permission to fall apart.

You open the door.

She's soaked, not just wet, drenched. Like she stood in the storm and let it drown her on purpose. her hair sticks to her cheeks, red strands plastered over sharp cheekbones. Her hoodie clings to her chest, sleeves soaked past her wrists. Her eyes glassy, dark-circled, jaw tight. She doesn't speak. She doesn't look at you. Maybe she doesn't remember how.

You don't step back. You don't invite her in. You just wait.

She's the one who breaks first.

"I shouldn't be here," she says, voice rasping like it hurts to use it.

"Yet here you are."

Her breath catches. her lips tremble, only a little. She's not crying, not yet.

You tilt your head. "Why did you come?"

She looks down. her hands shake. She fists them in the sleeves of her hoodie like she needs something to hold onto.

"You know why."

You do. That's the worst part.

The storm howls behind her, but you're not ready to let her in.

You don't ask where she's been. She wouldn't tell you. She never tells you anything real.

But you see it; how her shoulders slump, how her hoodie drips onto the floor and she doesn't care, how she look at you like you're both a relief and a curse.

"You're always awake when I come," she says, brushing a wet strand behind her ear.

"I don't sleep well anymore."

"I know." A pause. "I hate that."

You snort. "Do you?"

She flinches. Looks away.

She steps toward you.

Her jaw tenses, biting down on something she doesn't want to say. Her eyes flick to the floor, then behind you where her old hoodie still sits, an unspoken testimony to all the things she leaves behind. Her hands, still damp, curl at her sides. For a second, she doesn't look like Wanda Maximoff at all. She just look like someone who's lost. Someone who doesn't know how to be wanted without hurting the wanting.

She breathes in. Shaky. Halting.

Then, she steps toward you. One step. Then another. Like she's not sure you'll let her make the last.

Her eyes are glassy when they find you again. She opens her mouth, maybe to explain, maybe to beg, but nothing comes out. She just stands there, barely inches from you. There's a storm still caught inside her skin, rain dripping from her body, guilt radiating off her in form of heat.

You close your eyes.

Because it's easier not to look at her.

Because looking always undoes you faster.

And when she presses her forehead against yours, when her breath hitches and her fingers close around your arm like she needs your more than air–

You give in.

You always do.

Her mouth is on yours before the door clicks shut. Desperate, drowning, breathless. She kisses you like she's starving and you're the only thing left. Her hands grip your face, not gentle. She's clawing, trembling. She hates herself for wanting this and still wants it anyway. Her mouth is hot and wet and open, and she moans into you like it hurts.

You don't kiss her back, not at first, because you said you wouldn't.

But then she whispers it against your mouth. Not please, but your name. Like it's the last thing she'll ever say, already mourning you.

You shudder.

And you kiss her back.

Her hips press into you. Her hands fist in your shirt, dragging you forward, walking you backward toward the bedroom with wild, erratic steps. She stumbles once, swears, kisses your jaw, your neck, bites down on your collarbone hard enough to bruise.

"You're mine," she breathes, fingers curling in the fabric over your ribs. "You were always mine."

You don't speak.

She doesn't want your words, not yet. She wants your submission, your silence, your body unraveling under hers. You see it in her eyes: red-rimmed, dewy, twitching with the glint of her magic.

When you reach the doorway to your bedroom, her breath ragged, her pupils blown, her lip split from some fight you'll never know the details of, she finally pulls back. Just an inch. Just enough to look at you.

"You don't get to touch me tonight," she says softly. Her voice shakes, but not from fear.

From restraint.

Your breath hitches.

"What–"

Before the question fully forms, her eyes glow red, and you're thrown backward. Not violently, but with forceful deliberation, with all the terrifying grace of her power. Your body hits the mattress hard enough to bounce. You gasp, limbs sprawled.

Then, the binds form. Not ropes, not leather. Magic.

Wanda's signature crimson glow wraps around your wrist and ankles like a lover's embrace; soft at first, then tightening, locking you down. You squirm, breath punching out of your lungs.

You can't move, not even an inch.

"You let me go every time," she says, stepping into the room, slow and dangerous, Her hoodie is gone, discarded somewhere down the hall, and her tank top clings to her from the rain, sheer and soaked. You see the marks on her ribs. The faint shimmer of older bruises. The sharp curve of her collarbone.

She's full of war and grief and sin.

"And then you wait," she continues, eyes never leaving you. "You wait for me to come back. You pretend you hate it, but you're always wet when I walk through that door."

You open your mouth.

She flicks her fingers.

Binds tighten around your throat, not choking, not painful, but silencing, just enough pressure to remind you who you belong to.

Her.

Even when she leaves you. Especially when she leaves you.

"I need to taste it," she whispers. "The way you ache for me. The way you'd cry just to make me stay."

Something between shame and need claws at you from the inside. It's unbearable how much you want her even now, with her voice laced in harshness, with her promise half a threat. The words twist something inside you, sick and tender. And god, it's true. You would cry. You'd beg. You'd let her destroy you if it meant she'd keep coming back. The humiliation of it burns in your chest. it still makes your hips tilt up, desperate for any kind of contact. You're dizzy with it. Drunk on the sick devotion you swore you'd kill.

She crawls onto the bed, over you. Her knees press to either side of your hips, and she sits heavy on your pelvis, grinding down once, measured and punishing. You arch up instinctively, desperate for friction, but the binds keep you pinned. Her magic flares hot.

She leans down and her lips brush your ear.

"No touching," she whispers, reminding you with a voice that's both cure and poison. "You just lie there and break for me."

You whimper. Pathetic.

She laughs, sharp and cruel and breathless.

"You're already close, aren't you?" she purrs, biting your earlobe. "I haven't even fucking touched you yet."

You shake your head, try to lie, try to preserve whatever pride you have left.

But she doesn't let you.

Her hand slides between your thighs. Her fingers press against your core, soaked through your underwear. Drenched. Absolutely ruined for her.

She hums, pleased.

"So needy," she whispers. "You'd let me destroy you and still beg for more, wouldn't you?"

You glare at her. Or rather, you try to.

Your eyes are already full of unshed tears.

When she pulls your panties aside and dips two fingers between your folds, you sob. Not from pain, though. From the way her thumb teases your clit. From the way her fingers curl so perfectly, so violently inside you. From the sick, sacred way she kisses your chest while she ruins you, mouthing at your skin like she's praying.

"You always let me hurt you," she says, breathless against your sternum. "Why?"

You whisper her name.

"No," she snaps, eyes shining. "Tell me."

"Because–" you choke. "Because it's the only time you allow yourself to feel anything."

She stills. Her fingers stay inside you.

Her head lifts. her eyes search yours. there's something ugly and shattered in her expression.

But then, slowly, like it burns, she starts to move again.

Rougher. Faster. You cry out.

She kisses you. Hard. Swallows the sound.

"Good girl," she pants. "Break for me."

Her magic glows brighter.

Your thighs shake.

And you come, with her hand on your throat, her mouth on yours and your body arched as an offering.

But she doesn't stop. She never stops.

You gasp, a high, desperate sound, as she slips her fingers out of only to push your thighs farther apart, spreading you wide. Her breath is hot against your inner thigh, her hands, glowing faintly with magic, pin you still even without the binds.

You're already twitching, already oversensitive, already spent.

But that doesn't matter. It never mattered.

Wanda doesn't want comfort. She comes for confessions, and your body is the alter.

She leans in and licks a long, devouring stripe up your wetness, and you jolt like she's electrocuted you.

"Still so wet," she murmurs, her breath fanning over your swollen clit. "Still mine. Always mine."

"Wanda, please–"

The binds on your throat ease just enough to let the words spill out, but she doesn't answer.

She buries her face in you like she's trying to disappear, her tongue pushing deep, her fingers digging into your thighs hard enough to bruise. She moans against your core, the sound vibrating though you, and your entire body arches like a bow.

"Too much," you whimper, trying to twist away. "I can't–"

"Liar."

Her voice is muffled by your skin, but the accusation cuts like glass.

"You love this," she growls, licking you open again. "You love when I make you sob. You love when I use you."

You shake your head, crying now, but your hips are still moving, still chasing her mouth.

She sees it.

"God, you're pathetic," she says, cruel and biting. "So easy. So desperate for me to hurt you."

She wraps her lips around your clit and sucks, strong.

You scream.

It's raw, crooked, half a sob, half a surrender. Your wrists flex in their magical restraints, legs trembling. She doesn't ease up. She keeps sucking, licking, biting, until you're coming again with a broken cry, tears streaming down your cheeks.

But even now, it's not enough for her.

No matter what you do, no matter what you offer and sacrifice.

It's never enough for her.

Only when your hips jolt again and your throat is tight, she finally pulls away. Her chin is slick with you. Her eyes are fever-bright.

"Are you crying yet?" she asks, like she can't tell.

You are. Loud and clear. The sound echoes, only quietened by the storm outside.

Her magic tightens around your wrist again, not to mock, but to show her possessiveness.

"Wanda, please," you whisper, words slurred as you blink through the blur. "I can't– I can't–"

She climbs back over you, straddling your waist. Her hands frame your face. Her body simmer with hear. Her pupils are blown wide.

"You said I don't feel anything, but you're wrong."

You try to speak, but she kisses you. It's deep and messy and full of everything she can't say.

"I feel you." Her voice breaks. "I feel this, and I hate it."

You choke on a sob.

"I love you."

She flinches like you slapped her, and for a second, you see her, really see her. The girl underneath the power. The grief underneath the violence.

She growls, low and torn. "Don't say that."

Your eyes are searching hers, voice breaking. "Why not?"

"Because I don't deserve it."

She pushes you down. Hard.

Her hand finds your throat again. her lips hover just above yours.

"I ruin you," she whispers. "And you let me."

The unspoken why lingers dangerously in the space between you. She looks at you, searching for an answer that you can't give her.

You nod, agreeing. Tears drip from your chin onto the pillow. You're still shaking, still aching, still tied. You don't care because even now, even when she's broken you open wit her hands, her mouth, her guilt, all you want is more.

More time.

More her.

More feelings.

"Do it again," you rasp. "Please. Use me."

She breaks.

Something shatters behind her eyes. She kisses you like a punishment, like an apology.

Like a goodbye.

Her hand slips between your legs one last time and you don't resists.

You break for her again.

And again.

Until the edges blur. Until your throat is raw from sobbing. Until she's crying too.

"I'm sorry," she whispers against your ear, fucking you with her fingers through the aftershocks. "I'm so sorry."

It doesn't stop her, and you wouldn't want her to.

This pain, this ruin, this madness... it's all she's ever given to you. It vicious and burns, but god, at least it's all yours to keep.

You lose track of time.

How many times you come.

How many times she apologises mid-thrust or mid–cry.

How many times she says your name like it's a death sentence.

How many bruises she kisses into your skin, or scratches carves into your hips.

Your body stops fighting. Your sobs go silent. the binds don't even need to hold you anymore, you wouldn't move if you could.

And she knows it.

"I shouldn't be here," she breathes again, forehead pressed to yours, hands cupping your face now like she's trying memorise you from the inside out.

"But you are," you rasp, barely a voice left.

Her breath hitches. She kisses you again. It's gentle, but just for a second. Then it turns.

It always turns.

She flips you over, onto your stomach. Your muscles tremble. You're limp, pliant, raw. You hear the sound of her shirt hitting the floor, then her breath catching when she sees the mess she's made of you.

You feel her weight slide back over you. her mouth to your shoulder. Her fingers, red with power, ghosting over your bruises.

"Say you want it," she pleads.

You nod.

"Say it."

"I want it."

"Say you want me."

"I always want you."

She moans, broken. "Even when I leave?"

"Yes."

"Even when i come back just to ruin you again?"

You hesitate, but the truth burns too loud to deny.

"Yes."

She cries then, not loudly but cutting. It's quiet, shaking. her tears mix with the sweat on your back as she kisses your spine, tender, reverent, regretful.

"I'm so fucking sorry," she whispers, over and over, as she enters you again with her fingers, slower this time, but deeper, more intentional. "I don't know how to stop needing you."

You arch, moan. Sobs choking your throat.

"I don't want you top stop," you admit.

Your bodies find rhythm again. An agonising, aching one. She moves inside you like she's desperate to leave a part of herself behind, like she thinks if she fucks you hard enough, she'll be able to stay.

"Tell me you love me," she pants.

You do.

Over and over.

You tell her even as you shake, as you splinter, as your orgasm rips through you one final time and you scream into the sheets.

She comes with you, not from your body, but from the sound of you breaking. Her forehead pressed to your shoulder, her hand bruised between your thighs, her sob a strangled apology into your skin.

You're both crying when it's over.

When her body collapses beside you, shaking.

When her hand finally lets go of your throat, your hips, your heart.

You turn your head to look at her.

She's already looking at you.

But there's something gone behind her eyes. A dimming. A shadow.

You know that look.

You've seen it before. Countless times.

It means she's already leaving.

You reach for her and she lets you this time. Her fingers slide through yours. Her palm is warm.

You fall asleep that way. Clinging. Spent. Bruised.

Still hoping.

You wake up before the sun.

The room is cold.

At first, it doesn't register.

You're curled on your side, one arm reaching across empty sheets that still smell like her skin, like rainwater and sweat, like her pulse against you lips. For a moment, in that strange space between sleep and waking, you pretend she's in the bathroom, or maybe in the kitchen, pouring water, padding barefoot across the floor.

But the silence is too clean.

Too final.

You blink up at the ceiling. your wrists ache, a dull soreness, familiar now. the bruises on your thighs throb in time with your heartbeat. Your breath fogs slightly in the early morning chill, and the blanket is barely covering you.

You sit up.

The other side of the bed is cold.

Your stomach drops, slow and sick and deep. The air tastes different.

Your gaze slides toward the chair.

Her hoodie is still there, not thrown carelessly this time, not half-forgotten, not draped over you lamp like a ghost of her. This time, it's folded. Purposefully. Tenderly.

A final offering. A grave marker.

You stare at it for a long time.

Eventually, you stand.

Your legs shake when you walk to the kitchen. The clock on the stove blinks: 06:04. You pour a glass of water with trembling hands and drink it all without tasting it. The glass stays on the counter, like everything she left behind, waiting to be cleaned up.

You go back to the bedroom, but you don't lie down.

You just stand there.

The window's still cracked open from when the rain first started. the wind lifts the curtain gently. the sky is overcast but dry now, the storm passed sometime while you were sleeping.

She always leaves before the rain stops.

It's tradition by now. A twisted kind of ritual. A storm brings her. The silence takes her.

You throat aches, not from the blinds, not from her hand, but from the sob caught there, stubborn, raw and cruel. You won't cry, not yet. Not while the echo of her mouth still lingers between your thighs. Not while the bed is still warm with her absence.

You pull the hoodie from the chair.

You don't put it on.

You just hold it. bury your face in it. inhale her. Close your eyes.

It's different this time.

It feels over. Not in the dramatic way you swore it would be after the last time, or the time before that. But in the soft, terrifying way people stop calling. The way they fade. The way silence stretches too long.

She folded it. That's what you keep coming back to. She never folds anything.

You sit on the floor.

The hoodie clenched in your fists, knuckles white, nails biting into fabric. You rock once, twice, breath shallow.

The sob comes eventually.

You cry like she kissed you; desperate, broken, unwilling.

You cry until your voice gives out.

Eventually, you lie back against the hardwood, hoodie clutched to your chest, staring at the ceiling like it holds the answers.

You know she won't come again.

Not until it rains.

If it rains.

And even then, maybe not.

Maybe she left something to grieve properly.

But maybe, and this is the crulest thing, maybe leaving it behind was her apology. Her goodbye. Her way of saying: I can't keep coming back.

And the worst part is...

Your pulse hammers as you press forward. The town itself is whole, ordinary, almost unsettling in its perfection. Children ride their bikes along neat streets, neighbours chat across white-picket fences, porch lights flick on as dusk deepens. It looks normal. But beneath the veneer, you can still feel the faint hum of magic.

And then, there she is.

Your mother.

Agatha sits at a porch table with her hands folded in her lap, dressed in a cardigan that isn’t hers and a neighbourly smile stretched across her face. The sight catches in your chest. She’s never looked like this. Your mother was sharp-edged and knowing, a storm in human form; never soft, never prim, and never the type to play house.

“Mom!” The word tears out of you before you can stop it. Your steps quicken, stumbling toward her. “Mama! Oh my god, I’ve found you. I’ve finally found you.”

Agatha looks up, startled. But there’s no recognition in her eyes, only polite confusion. “Oh! Well, hello there dear. I think you have me confused with someone else but what a pleasure it is to meet you.” Her smile widens, pleasant and fixed. “I’m Agnes O’Connor. Are you new to the neighbourhood?”

The name hits you like a slap. You shake your head, “No. No, no, no. You’re not Agnes. You’re my mom, your name is Agatha Harkness. Mami—I mean Rio—and I have been looking for you for so long.” Your voice cracks, but you manage to push the words out.

She only tilts her head, that saccharine smile unwavering. “Agatha? Oh, goodness no, you must be mistaken. But you look tired, sugar. Why don’t you come inside for a nice cup of tea? I make a mean chamomile.”

Her tone is light, so perfectly not her that it makes your stomach twist. You study her face, willing the truth to surface, but her eyes are empty. Her gestures too smooth, her voice too sweet, her movements no longer her own. She isn’t acting. She actually believes what she’s saying.

The realisation guts you. You had nightmares of finding her broken, scarred, furious even, but never this. Not this hollow parody, this marionette smiling on strings.

Rage bubbles up, bitter and sharp, spilling out of you in a whisper: “She did this to you.” Your fists clench until your nails bite your palms. Louder now, chest heaving: “She didthis.”

The porch, the street, the entire picture-perfect lie blurs at the edges as your vision burns with fury. You stumble back from the your mom, every breath jagged, and there’s only one thought left, pounding in your skull like a war drum.

If you can’t break the spell, then you’ll break the woman who cast it.

—

Rio Vidal doesn’t look pleased when you arrive at her door. Her sharp eyes cut into you like glass, taking in your ragged breath, the crackling static of magic still prickling across your skin. Her expression softens then reaches out, brushing your temple with her fingers before pressing a fleeting kiss to the top of your head. It’s instinctive, protective, the kind of gesture that betrays how much of her heart belongs to you and to the woman you’ve both lost.

Then, just as quickly, the softness vanishes. She straightens, jaw tight, shoulders squared, armour back in place.

“You found her, didn’t you?” she says flatly.

“She’s trapped,” you snap, shoving past her. “Caged like some pet. Mami, that bitch did this, I know it. And you—” your voice shakes, “you’re going to help me find her.”

Rio’s silence lingers long enough to sting. Then she laughs once, low and mirthless. “You are your mother’s child. Hot-headed and reckless. Do you have any idea who you’re asking me to lead you to?”

Your eyes flare. “I don’t care what it takes. She took Mom. She doesn’t get to walk away from that.”

The air between you hums with tension. Rio studies you, sees the grief and fury tearing you apart, and though she doesn’t soften again, you catch the flicker of something in her gaze. Pain. Love. A shared rage.

She only points, her voice sharp as a blade. “Then follow it to the source.”

—

You don’t wait. You don’t hesitate. You go and find the Scarlet Witch.

Her figure stands at the edge of a shattered field, red wisps coiling lazily around her hands as if the universe bends for her amusement. She doesn’t look startled. She only watches you approach, expression unreadable.

Your fury erupts before she can speak. Bolts of purple energy crackle from your fingertips, slamming into the ground at her feet. The ground quakes, the air scorches, the night tears itself open under your rage.

“Give her back!” you roar, magic spiralling from your fists. You hurl spell after spell, each one wilder than the last.

Wanda raises a single hand. Scarlet threads weave into a shield, effortlessly fluid. Every blow you launch shatters against her, a storm striking stone. Her gaze doesn’t even flicker.

She steps forward. One measured pace.

“You’re loud,” she says, voice soft but cutting, “but messy.”

You scream and strike again, raw power tearing the ground between you.

Another step and more red light hums at her fingertips. “Your mother taught you better than this, didn’t she?”

The taunt cuts deep making you lash out with both hands, purple fire bursting from your palms, only to be dissolved in her red glow.

Another step. She’s close enough now that you can see the curve of her mouth—it’s almost like she’s enjoying herself. “Is this what you call revenge? Throwing sparks until you burn yourself out?”

Her words dig under your skin. You pour everything into one final strike, a beam of energy so fierce it splits the air with a scream. She catches it in her palm, twists her wrist, and the spell unravels like thread.

With a flick of her fingers, she binds you. Crimson coils snap around your wrists and ankles, suspending you in the air like a fly caught in a web. You thrash, magic surging, but then it falters, and you spot the runes glowing faintly on the ground beneath you.

Wanda steps closer, eyes glinting with amusement. “It’s cute,” she says softly, “watching you try and fight. But this isn’t how good girls behave.”

“I hate you,” you spit, though your voice trembles.

Her smirk deepens as she tilts her head, closing the distance until her breath grazes your lips. “Hate me all you want. It doesn’t change what you are: weak”

You twist against the bindings, chest heaving. “Fuck you bitch.”

Scarlet light curls under your chin, forcing your gaze up to hers. “Ungrateful brat,” she says, her tone more indulgent than furious, almost as if your resistance entertains her. “I could offer you purpose. But it seems you’d rather throw a tantrum.”

The words sting and before you can try and break free from her restraints the world shatters; the field dissolves and in the blink of an eye you’re slammed against sheets. The bindings tighten as you sink into the mattress, her presence looming above you.

Your lungs claw for air.

Her lips drag along your jaw, teeth scraping at the curve of your neck. Heat sparks down your spine. You try to twist away defiantly, but the involuntary moan that shudders through the silence betrays you. Shame and desire tangle viciously in your chest.

Her hand slides across your waist, thumb pressing into your hip as if marking her territory. “See?” she whispers against your skin, her voice silk wrapped around steel. “You can’t deny me.”

For a heartbeat, you almost spit back another denial. But the heat pooling in your stomach stops you. The press of her body, the weight of her gaze, the intoxicating pull of her magic—part of you recoils, but another part, deep down, aches for it. Maybe you’ve wanted this all along, buried under your rage. Maybe you want her.

The thought crashes through you just as her mouth claims yours. The kiss is all teeth and heat, lips colliding with bruising insistence. You match her passion, refusing to yield, until your teeth sink down hard enough to draw a sharp gasp from her.

Scarlet light explodes instantly. Bonds lash tighter, forcing your body flat against the bed, chest pinned beneath invisible hands. Her eyes burn with dark promise as her magic coils around your clothes, leaving your skin bare against the chill of the room.

In a blink, she stands naked above you, a goddess draped in power. She tilts her head, looking over you with slow, deliberate possession, savouring every inch.

“You want to fight?” Wanda’s voice is a threat. “Then you’ll learn what happens to brats who bite.”

Her hand presses down against your throat, red threads binding you tighter than ever. With a flick of her fingers, another coil of magic slips up, curling over your mouth, gagging you in an instant.

It hums with a low vibration against your skin, thrumming every time you breathe. You fight it, a muffled sound escaping, but she only smirks and leans close enough that her breath ghosts hot against your ear.

“That’ll shut you up,” she says. “Can’t have my little brat telling lies trying to tell me she doesn’t want this.” Her tone roughens, and the knowing curl of her smile tells you she’s enjoying the way you strain beneath her.

You should hate it, hate her. I mean you certainly did a couple of hours ago. But the second the gag vibrates with the sound of your ragged breathing, a shiver slides down your spine, arousal searing your own body as heat coils low inside you.

Wanda kisses you through the gag once, a mocking press of lips, then begins her descent. Her mouth traces the sharp edge of your jaw. She takes her time at your throat, tongue teasing the frantic rhythm of your heartbeat, teeth scraping where your skin is most tender. A sound bursts from you, swallowed by the gag, and Wanda chuckles against your collarbone.

One hand slides over your breast, fingers teasing the sensitive flesh while her mouth follows the same path, nipping and tracing circles around your nipples. The dual sensation leaves you gasping, chest rising and falling against her.

The air feels too thin; every nerve tuned to her touch. She kisses down your stomach, the flick of her tongue circling your navel before moving further. At your hip she pauses, her breath feathering over you, and the way she holds herself there makes you tremble.

Her path drifts to your thigh, lips brushing the skin above your knee, a light scrape of teeth makes you buck against the bonds. Then she shifts back upward, each kiss inside your thigh slower than the last. The closer she gets, the harder you strain against her magic, every part of you desperate and aching.

Finally, she stops just above the apex of your thighs. Her mouth hovers for a heartbeat and then sticks out her tongue dragging it through your cunt.

The sensation rips through you. Heat surges, your body jerking despite the magical bindings that hold you flat to the bed. A muffled cry tears from your throat, your hips twitching toward her without thought, betraying how badly you crave more.

Wanda’s laugh is soft and wicked, lips brushing sensitive skin as she looks up at you. Her tongue parts your lips again, slower this time, making you quiver. Every nerve screams, every inch of you strung tight between shame and hunger.

Her tongue continues to switch between circling your clit and pushing into your seeping hole. The heat of her mouth is unbearable, every flick of her tongue a shockwave that races up your spine and makes your stomach clench.

You buck against the bonds, gag muffling the desperate sound torn from your throat. She only holds you firmer, one hand pressing into your thigh, keeping you wide for her, keeping you trapped.

Her pace is wickedly precise. Every stroke of her tongue pulls another gasp from your chest, another quiver from your legs, until the world narrows to nothing but the heat of her mouth and the crackling magic searing your skin. Your vision blurs, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from the force of it.

And then it’s all too much for you. The pressure explodes all at once, your body convulsing as waves of your orgasm crash through you, shudder after shudder wracking your frame. You whimper, hips jerking helplessly as you’re stripped bare of control.

When the tremors finally ease, you collapse into the mattress, chest heaving. The gag dissolves, threads unwinding with a snap of her fingers. Wanda lifts her head, lips glistening and eyes blazing with triumph.

“Open your mouth,” she orders. “Tongue out.”

You obey before you can think, lips parting, tongue trembling as you open as wide as you can. Wanda dives between your thighs once more lapping at the mess there before moving up your body. The sight alone makes your cheeks burn with shame. She doesn’t stop until she’s hovering above you. She squeezes your jaw, forcing it wider, before she lets the mixture of cum and spit drip onto your tongue.

Her eyes burn into yours as she commands, “Swallow.”

You obey, throat working around the taste, heat flooding your cheeks. Wanda watches every movement with hungry satisfaction, then crushes her mouth against yours. Her tongue drives deep, shoving the taste further down, forcing you to savour it until your head spins. When you gasp against her mouth she bites down. The smirk that follows is merciless.

“You think you get to bite me and walk away unscathed?” she says, her breath hot against your lips. “No, darling. You’re mine to break.”

Her hand catches your jaw, fingers pressing into your cheeks until your mouth opens for her again. She shoves three fingers past your lips, down against your tongue, forcing you to taste the sharp tang of her power still crackling over her skin. Her eyes glint as you gag softly around the intrusion, and she presses deeper, “suck.”

Your pride flares for a moment, but the lingering bliss of your climax that pulse between your legs betrays you. The taste of her fingers and the weight of her gaze leave your body trembling, your moan muffled around her hand. She chuckles darkly, pulling her slickened fingers free only to trail them down your throat, leaving a faint glisten in their wake.

Then she moves her body, sliding down, hips slotting lower until the heat of her pussy presses into yours. The shock of skin meeting skin makes you cry out, head tipping back into the pillows. Wanda wastes no time. She grinds against you, movements sharp, her clit bumping yours with every roll of her hips sending sparks tearing through your veins.

One hand clamps around your jaw, holding you still. Then she slides her fingers between your lips again, shoving them deep until your mouth stretches around her. She doesn’t relent, pressing her fingers against your tongue before pulling them out, wet and shining, only to push them back in.

Her other hand roams across your chest to play with your nipples, squeezing and twisting until your breath stutters. The roughness of her touch is unbearable, the contrast of pleasure and pain making your back arch against the mattress, bonds crackling tighter when you try to resist.

The magical restraints cinch harder with each thrust, stretching you open, forcing your body to take everything. Wanda’s breath comes ragged now, her hair tumbling loose around her face, strands clinging to damp skin. Her eyes never leave yours, burning with feverish intensity as she drives herself against you. She shifts her angle, grinding harder, faster, each drag more devastating than the last until the friction blurs into a dizzying fire that consumes you whole.

Every nerve is aflame. Every sound that leaves your throat is swallowed by the grin curving her lips, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes as she watches you writhe. Her hand finds your jaw again, thumb smearing over your lips before pushing into your mouth, silencing your cries as her hips drive against yours.

“Good girl,” she growls, voice rough with arousal. “Cry for me properly.”

Her hips grind harder, faster, the sharp drag of her body against yours building a rhythm that tears the breath from your lungs. Each stroke is punishing, her strength bearing down until you can’t move, can’t think, can only feel the wildfire she sets alight inside you.

Her thumb stays shoved in your mouth, silencing you, forcing every moan to vibrate through her hand. Saliva slicks your lips, drips down your chin, and still she pushes, her eyes drinking in your wrecked state with feral hunger. The smirk on her face tells you she’s savouring every second of your undoing.

Wanda lowers her head to your ear, her breath hot and ragged. “Do you feel that?” Her voice fractures into a moan as her hips slam harder against yours. “That’s mine. You’re mine.”

The words push you over. The dam bursts, ecstasy ripping through your body in violent waves, your muffled cry is raw against her hand. You shudder helplessly beneath her, bonds holding you wide while every pulse of pleasure rips through you like fire in your veins.

Wanda’s rhythm falters, grows more frantic. Her free hand clutches your hip with bruising force as she drives herself against you, chasing the same edge she’s dragged you over. Her head tips back, a guttural sound spilling from her lips as her own climax crashes into her. Her body jerks, grinds through the release, leaving you both gasping and tangled in sweet ecstasy.

The magic loosens, threads unravelling until only faint sparks remain, brushing over your skin like fading embers. Wanda finally pulls her fingers from your mouth, trailing them across your cheek before bringing them to her lips and sucking them clean with a moan. Her eyes meet yours, dark and satisfied, her smirk returning as she shifts her hips just enough to keep you aching beneath her.

“You’ll soon learn, honey,” she whispers, still breathless. “Every time you fight me, I’ll break you all over again.”

-----

The first thing you did when your mind started waking up was groan.

The room was a little chilly, your body was sore and your head was about to kill you. You kept your eyes closed, trying to decide if you should stay in bed that day or join your friends for breakfast.

You arrived to Cancun three days ago after the endless begging of your friends for you to join them on their little trip. And it was supposed to be healing as you found yourself again. But right then and there, you were regretting joining them for drinks at the hotel’s bar the night before.

You sighed. The headache wouldn’t go if you didn’t take anything. And when you tried to reach for your phone, instead of touching the nightstand, you touched a warm body.

That made you sat up immediately, making you aware of your naked state as the sheets fell into your lap. Your lips parted as you looked to your left.

A brunette was lying on her back, her arm over her head trying to block the sunlight and her other hand below your pillow and her chest covered with the sheets. You moved backwards, only to bump into another body and you gasped.

When you turned to your sight, you found a redhead lying on her chest, her back bare and marked. Her arm placed protectively over your lap.

Your head started spinning a little as the memories of the night before finally flooded your mind as your eyes scanned the room that clearly wasn’t yours.

And your cheeks started burning.

(—)

The day before.

Wanda convinced her wife to have a little getaway. By little she meant a Caribbean paradise to forget about the not-so-little break up with their latest girlfriend.

They were running from their demons. Every inch of their house reminded them of the breakup and when Natasha started spending more time in the office than by her side, Wanda knew they had to leave as far away as they could.

And the redhead wasn’t so sure at first but when her wife kissed her so seductively and whispered the filthiest things in her ear, Natasha couldn’t resist anymore.

Everything was running smoothly. They tanned, read and swam at the pool like it was their second honeymoon. And they fucked like they could pound the memories out of each other. It was working, though.

Until, you walked in front of them at the pool. Wanda’s jaw almost dropped and she swore she heard Natasha growl under her breath but it could’ve been her. It was hard to say.

You looked stunning. A red bikini adorning your body, your hair pulled up, sunglasses resting at the top of your head and a beach bag hanging on your shoulder. And you stopped before them, turning around when someone called your name and Wanda’s hopes died when a tall blond man approached you.

He hugged you and your body relaxed under his touch. And Wanda couldn’t help when she sighed and turned to look at Natasha. But her wife was still looking at you, and if it wasn’t for her sunglasses, Wanda would’ve noticed the way Natasha’s eyes darkened at your sight.

Then the redhead furrowed her brows, making Wanda look back at you. You were giggling and trying to push away the man, as he took away your bag and started fighting with you.

Wanda jumped on ready to help you but Natasha stopped her. You kept laughing, pushing him away as he kept threatening to push you to the pool.

“Luke, stop!” you laughed and your voice was like music to their ears.

Were your moans as sweet as your laughter? Or did your voice drop lower when you felt needy?

But Wanda’s trail of thoughts was interrupted with your scream and a splash, flinching a little when water reached her and she gasped when you weren’t coming out of the water.

Natasha reacted first, jumping to the pool instantly and helping you out. You took a deep breath, your cheeks instantly flushed as Natasha held your hips protectively.

You brushed your hair back. Your eyes meeting a pair of unfamiliar green eyes looking at you worried. For a moment, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. And your lips parted to talk but you were sure you forgot your own name.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked softly, not quite ready to let you go and unaware of your flustered state.

“Come on, sassy, stop pretending you don’t know how to swim” Luke interrupted the moment and you weren’t sure who growled, you or the redhead.

You turned to glare at him and flipped him off, only making him laugh and then you looked back at the redhead.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you” you said softly and Natasha nodded.

The redhead helped you out of the pool and you offered her your hand to help her out, ignoring the teasing tickles from your best friend.

Your breath faltered when you took in the redhead’s image. She was wearing a black bikini top and a pair of black shorts. But that wasn’t what made you stop breathing, it was her toned abdomen and her strong arms that made you forget about everything else.

Luke pinched your side, offering you a teasing grin and you rolled your eyes and smacked his arm.

“Hey! Don’t be so mean” he grunted, placing a hand over his burning skin where your punch landed and you smacked him again “Stop!”

“That’s for pushing me, vipes” you huffed and he wrapped his arms around you, placing a soft kiss on your cheek “I’ll deal with you later” you muttered and faced the redhead again, that was now drying herself.

In that moment you noticed the brunette that was lying next to her and your mouth watered at her sight. She was wearing a mustard bikini, long legs perfectly tanned and a collarbone that was challenging you to touch just to find out if it was as sharp as it looked. She smiled at you softly and your cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red.

“I- we are sorry” you said softly, your eyes dancing in between them and you offered the redhead a grateful smile “Thank you for saving me, that was really kind”

“Yeah, saving you from your own stupidity” Luke teased but regretted it when both women glared at him as if they were trying to kill him on spot.

“Yeah, that too” you chuckled, a little amused that they made Luke squirm a little “But really, thank you”

It was like you weren’t ready to go, glued on your spot even when Luke was trying to make you keep walking. But you would’ve done anything to hear the redhead’s voice again and wondering how the brunette sounded.

And as if they could hear your thoughts, both smiled softly at you.

“It was nothing, just…” Natasha glanced at Luke for a moment and her eyes softened when meeting yours “be careful. It doesn’t matter if you know how to swim, games like that could end up badly”

Luke huffed like a scolded child behind you and you nudged him with your elbow making him yelp as you smiled and nodded.

“Tasha, don’t be so hard on them” Wanda scolded her wife softly and Natasha rolled her eyes playfully “Glad you are okay, sweetheart”

Your breath hitched at the sound of the brunette’s voice. It was sweet and alluring. You would even dare to say motherly in a way that electrified your skin and made your knees feel weak.

Luke noticed your state. He could almost see the moment your brain malfunction and he smirked. As much as both women made clear they didn’t like him, his little game turned out better than he imagined. Still, he cleared his throat and you flinched.

“Yeah, I- huh, thank you again” you finally said, trying to remember how to breathe and waved at them “Sorry for the trouble and I hope you keep having a good time”

You started walking but Luke stood still, watching you with an amused smirk and you rolled your eyes. You grabbed him by the wrist, trying to ignore the curious eyes of the women and fighting to make him move.

“Vipes, I swear to god-“ you grunted and he chuckled, starting to move as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“Come on, sassy. I have a story to tell” he laughed and you pushed him away.

Both women watched you leave as you bickered with him. And Natasha almost jumped again when you were close to falling but this time Luke grabbed you by the waist and you started smacking his arm but giggled.

“Do you think they-“ Wanda started and Natasha looked at her wife.

“I don’t think so, dorogaya” Natasha sighed and laid down, putting her sunglasses back on “I hope not”

“You hope?” Wanda smirked and Natasha scoffed “Don’t be like that, moya lyubov’. We are on the same team here” the brunette smacked her wife’s thigh playfully.

Natasha chuckled, wrapping her arms around her wife and pulling her over her lap. She kissed Wanda’s neck as Wanda tried to break free because Natasha was too cold for her hot skin.

“I know we are, but I’m not so sure we should be thinking that way” Natasha said softly and Wanda turned to look at her, letting her body curl over Natasha’s and pecking her lips softly.

“Maybe that’s what we need, Tasha”

They both looked at you. You were now at the other end of the pool, lying down as the sun kissed your skin with your arms folded behind your head. Luke was standing before you and telling your two other friends about what happened, but their eyes were fixed on you.

“Maybe, but she’s gone now, Wands” Natasha said softly. She kissed Wanda’s forehead and patted her side as she offered her wife a loving smile “But I can get creative tonight”

Wanda laughed and kissed Natasha. At the end of the day, the redhead was her true partner in crime. The rest of the world was just a fantasy.

(—)

“Do I really have to go? I’m tired” you whined, letting yourself fall onto the mattress as Maddison threw you a dress “Mads”

“None of that, baby girl, it’s Friday night” she shrugged and looked at you “Just tonight, the rest of the week you can ignore our pleads”

You sat straight and snorted “You always say that and for some reason, it keeps happening”

But you complied. Anything to keep your mind away from home or away from the women that saved your life that day. Mostly them.

They were extremely hot, even Luke made an effort to state that when he was telling the story to Noah and Maddison. And you felt their gazes more than once during the day at the pool, or maybe you just imagined that since you wished for them to keep noticing you.

You weren’t sure, though. By the way they talked, at least the little you heard, they seemed to be married but it wouldn’t be the first time you mistaken friends for lovers. You could never trust your gaydar.

So a night out to clear your mind sounded marvellous. It was that or staying at your room as your mind ran over and over again their faces like a prayer.

You started dressing yourself, ignoring Maddison when she called you a good girl and after doing your makeup, both of you left your room.

The boys were already waiting for you at the hotel’s bar since you weren’t in the mood to go full nightclubbing and that was the best you could offer. And they agreed just because if they got you tipsy enough, maybe you would be the one wanting to change scenarios.

You greeted both and sat on a barstool next to Luke that was grinning at you mischievously. You squinted your eyes as he wiggled his brows and then decided it was better if you didn’t know.

You asked the bartender for a piña colada and Luke groaned.

“Dude, you are going soft” he glared at you and changed your order for something stronger a Moscow Mule.

“No, you are trying to kill me” you scoffed and Luke laughed “Vodka isn’t my cup of tea, vipes”

“Tonight it is” he shrugged and leaned over the counter “Your girlfriends are here, by the way”

At that, you straightened your back and Luke started laughing louder. You pushed him away when he tried to hug you and grunted.

“Shut up” your cheeks flushed and you thanked the bartender when he placed your drink before you and gave a long sip “They are not my girlfriends”

“But you wish they were” he teased, nudging your side playfully.

“She wishes what?” Noah chimed in, his arms wrapped around Maddison’s waist and you groaned, hiding your face in between your hands.

“That the hot women from earlier were her girlfriends or at least one of them. Hard to tell if they are together” Luke said tapping his chin in a thoughtful manner and you punched him.

“Are they here?” Mads asked, her eyes already scanning the place and you closed your eyes.

Ever since you broke up with your ex, your friends were firm believers that the only way out of your dark tunnel was a quick fuck. Noah and Luke were insufferable about it but when Maddison chimed in, it only got worse.

And you knew they were trying to cheer you up. After all, they were the ones collecting the pieces of your broken heart. But no one was interesting enough for you to really pay attention until that day.

You didn’t even know their names and maybe it was for the best. But both women were extremely attractive, it wasn’t even fair to be that hot. Physically should be impossible and yet, they were goddesses walking down on earth.

Luke told the story, emphasising on the fact that you were flustered when you talked to them and they pushed all day for you to talk to them. You stayed firm, though, even if on the inside you wanted to do it.

But it was like tossing a coin. They could be married or just friends or worst case scenario they were straight. Either way, you would’ve ended up making a fool of yourself and you weren’t ready for that hit.

“Yeah, corner booth on your right” Luke smirked and Noah and Maddison turned their faces in the most obvious way they could.

You gulped the rest of your drink and ordered another one. They were as embarrassing as any parent could be. Well no, they were worse.

“Dude, they are one hundred percent lesbians” Noah said looking at you and you side eyed him “Mads is the only straight woman I believe is that beautiful, the rest are certainly lesbians”

“Nice wording, baby” Maddison kissed his cheek and he smiled proudly “But he is right. And they make me wish I was into women, like damn”

You sighed, loudly and dramatically. You were delusional but your friends always fuelled that side of you and this time you weren’t falling for it.

“Well, then they are married. Cheers to that” you said raising your glass and Luke patted your shoulder “Do not hit on me, Lucas”

He chuckled “I was gonna say, you could always try your shot”

You gulped again your drink, leaving your glass half empty and shook your head as you laughed.

“Last time you told me that, I found my best friend” Maddison laughed at that and cheered with you “And I’m not replacing her”

The three of them kept teasing you, trying to encourage you to go and talk to them but that only made you keep drinking. And maybe alcohol wasn’t the best solution for your broken heart, the teasing or the need that was increasing between your legs every time you glanced at them, but the alcohol was making it bearable.

In the middle of your fourth drink, the bartender pushed a new drink and you looked at him confused. It was a different drink, the glass was garnished with lipstick and you raised a brow.

“This cocktail is called ‘The Flirt’” he explained with a soft smile, gaining the attention of your friends as they turned to look at him with curious eyes “Tequila, brandy, cranberry juice and lime juice” he continued, focusing on you as you stared at the drink like it held all the answers in the world “From the ladies over there”

Your cheeks started burning as Noah and Luke high five and Maddison started laughing. The bartender offered you a friendly look but it didn’t help to soothe your nerves and you tried to give it back.

“I don’t think this is a good idea” you said shyly, finishing your drink and Luke wrapped his arm around your shoulder “Don’t”

“Sassy, it’s just a drink not a marriage proposal” he said softly, restraining himself from teasing you. He sniffed the drink and looked at the bartender “I want one, smells nice. Please”

“Take mine” you grunted and Luke ignored you, pleading silently to the bartender to go and he nodded “Lucas”

“No, we are not doing this” he said firmly and you turned to look at him “I know we tease you a lot but this is a sign, (Y/N)” you groaned and started shaking your head “Yes, it is. Take the drink and just go and thank them. If they were just being nice with you, you can come back and we all go to bed” Noah smacked the back of his head but Luke remained unbothered, almond eyes only focused on you and smiling softly “And I will do whatever you want for a month”

“You really want me to go over there, huh?” you giggled softly and his smile widened.

“It’s been six months, sassy girl” he pecked your cheek “Go and if you don’t like them, look at me and I will go and pretend I’m your jealous boyfriend”

You laughed and rolled your eyes playfully “You always want to play that role” he shrugged and you sighed “Fine, but I will make you suffer for a month”

You stood up and took the drink. Your hand slightly shaking as you took a deep breath. It felt like you even forgot how to flirt, you were rusty after five years of being in a relationship.

“Go, get ‘em tiger” he patted your shoulder and you sighed.

(—)

Surprisingly, the drink was Natasha’s idea.

But she had to do something because it couldn’t be a coincidence that they ran into you two times that day after not seeing you the whole week. And Wanda also kept throwing stealthy glances at you, although she wasn’t as subtle as she think she was. Not for Natasha, at least.

And if it went wrong, Natasha could blame it on the alcohol later. Even when she knew how to handle her vodka. But the smile of her wife was priceless when she did the request to a waiter, so it really was worth the trouble.

But Wanda’s smile faded when she watched you struggle. Your blond friend was telling you something, the bartender was looking at you trying to decide what to do and your other two friends were immersed in their own world.

You looked conflicted.

“I think we over did it, moya lyubov’” Wanda looked at Natasha nervously, biting her lip and feeling her heart race.

The redhead extended her arm and Wanda took her hand seeking comfort. And there wasn’t any other thing that could soothe her worries like Natasha’s reassuring smile.

“Well, in that case we tried and I keep my word on getting creative tonight” Wanda giggled and Natasha’s smile widened “There you are, dorogaya”

“Yeah, you are right. Maybe my gaydar is broken” Wanda sighed, shrugging and Natasha laughed.

“Or maybe she’s not into us, Wands” Natasha teased and her wife offered her an offended look “Well, into me. My wife is extremely hot”

“Hey now! My wife is hotter” Wanda grinned and Natasha rolled her eyes playfully “But really, it’s okay. At least she got a free drink and…”

Natasha’s eyes flicked your way and her heart skipped a beat. You were now walking towards them, stumbling a little but with the drink on your hand. And for a second, Natasha thought you were going to throw the drink to them. But when her eyes met yours, you smiled softly and she forgot how to breathe.

“Dorogaya”

“So I think we could just close the tab and…”

“Wands”

“I really don’t mind. In fact, I think I’m feeling tired. Aren’t you…”

“Wanda!” Natasha said louder and Wanda flinched, furrowing her brows a little hurt because her wife never raised her voice. At least not to Wanda “I’m sorry, my love, but look”

Wanda then looked your way. You were closer, walking too slow for Natasha’s liking but she was enjoying the view. And Wanda’s breath faltered as she squeezed Natasha’s hand tightly and ignored when her wife grunted.

Both looked at you in awe when you stood before them. The crimson dress that you were wearing made you look like an angel of death. Their deaths. Your hair was down, your collarbone adorned with a cute silver necklace and you were wearing rings.

“Hey” you said shyly “Thank you for the drink. Seems like I owe you big time now” you joked, trying to keep your nerves in check even when the alcohol was numbing you and still your skin was buzzing.

Natasha’s jaw was one movement away from dropping, you couldn’t look hotter even if you wanted to. It should be illegal or something. And Wanda wasn’t so sure about her own name, afraid of talking and making a fool of herself.

They were never shy around women. Not when they were single and specially not since they were married. Both were natural flirts, almost bordering arrogance when it came to their looks. They knew they were hot, they knew they were charming, they were overly-confident with their skills in specially in bed.

And yet, in that exact moment, they both forgot how to talk.

On your end, the silence stretched too quickly. It was barely two minutes, but your confidence shattered. What if they didn’t mean to send you the drink? What if it was meant for someone else? What if they didn’t even want you there?

You bit your lip nervously, taking a step back and looking over your shoulder. Luke nodded and said something to Noah and Maddison, and started to walk towards you.

And Wanda finally snapped out of her own thoughts.

“Hey, sweetheart” she smiled softly and her voice electrified your skin “Did you like the drink?”

Wanda kicked Natasha under the table, not daring to look away from you and her wife growled but it was enough for her to react.

“I- well I haven’t…” your cheeks flushed and you shifted your weight nervously.

“Why don’t you join us for that drink?” Natasha said sliding over the round booth to sit closer to Wanda and gave you space “Unless you have somewhere else to be?”

There was a hopeful edge on Natasha’s voice and your legs almost failed you because she sounded so sweet. But before you could accept, Luke’s arm wrapped around you protectively.

“What are you doing, baby?”

Wanda threw a ‘I told you so’ look to her wife. Natasha’s jaw clenched at the sight of the blond man. Your cheeks were burning and you were wishing for the earth to swallow you up. The only one that was grinning and in control was Luke; the one person that didn’t belong there.

In his defence, you gave him the signal.

You took a deep breath and turned to look at him, trying to silently ask him to go but Luke was dumb when he wanted.

“Why don’t you go with Noah and Mads, hm?” you asked softly and he frowned.

“What? But you…”

“You heard me, vipes” you cleared your throat, your eyes wide opened as you tried to signal him to get on track. But you could see how slowly the dots were connecting “Lucas!”

You smacked his arm and he flinched. And finally, he reacted. Luke grinned and nodded, you could just wish he didn’t look that obvious to the beautiful women behind you as much as he did to you.

“Oh, yeah. Huh” he scratched the back of his neck and looked over you “Ladies, I think I never apologised. Sorry for the disturbance earlier and for…” you pinched his arm subtly and he grimaced “Yeah, for earlier. I’ll see you later, sassy” he leaned and pecked your cheek.

Natasha watched him leave and she smiled triumphantly to her wife. The redhead loved being right, she loved even more proving her wife wrong even when that got her in trouble. It was always worth it.

And she told herself as much when Wanda nudged her forcefully with her elbow and smiled at you with innocent eyes when you turned to look at them.

Wanda Maximoff was the devil in disguise and no one but Natasha knew that.

“Sorry about that, he just… well, it doesn’t matter” you bit your lip nervously, trying to gather your thoughts “So may I sit or should I just…”

“Please, I promise we don’t bite” Wanda said cheerfully “Unless you are into that, in that case we very much bite”

Natasha looked at her wife incredulously. Wanda only got that chatty when she was nervous, like it was her first time interacting with a woman and if they wanted a chance with you, Wanda needed to get it together.

But you chuckled and sat on the spot Natasha left you.

“I guess it depends on who is biting, so we will see” you smiled softly, gaining confidence from god knows where but it was working.

“So sassy? Is that your name?” Natasha said casually, taking a sip of her drink and your cheeks flushed.

You were there already flirting with them and you didn’t even know their names nor they knew yours. But the redhead was smooth, you gave her that.

“God no” you giggled and Natasha almost choked on her drink, could you get even cuter? “Vipes calls me by my gamertag. I mean Luke, I also call him by his gamertag” you babbled and Natasha held back an amused smirk.

You were just like her wife. Well, Wanda barely got that nervous so it was almost your fault that she was in that state. But that seemed to be your usual. And it made sense.

If Natasha had to guess, you probably were in your mid twenties. At least ten years younger than them. You seemed to come from a good family, nice manners and probably you had siblings based on the way you treated your friend. Long-term relationships were your thing, so a one night stand was barely an option and still, you were there with no expectations.

That was the redhead’s final assessment. And she was right. Natasha Romanoff was always right.

“Gamertag?” Wanda tilted her head slightly and your cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red, making Wanda’s curiosity spike even more.

You probably sounded like a total nerd. Or that’s what you believed while Wanda was genuinely curious. Natasha was the gamer, not her.

“Yes, dorogaya. Gamertag, you know the name you use online when you play?” Natasha explained sweetly and Wanda raised a brow, clueless “Like mine? Black Widow?”

“Oh, I see” she giggled and looked back at you “You’ll have to forgive me, perhaps I’m old” her cheeks flushed and you wanted to tell her you probably looked like trash next to her, that there was no way she was that old. But you bit the inside of your cheek nervously “And sassy is yours?”

“Something like that but my name is (Y/N)” you hummed and took a sip of your drink to soothe your nerves “And do you have names or should I just call you hottie one and hottie two?” your tongue ran before you could stop yourself and your eyes widened, coughing and not sure where to focus “I mean- god, I’m so sorry. I take it back. No, I mean I don’t take it back. You guys are hot but I say that respectfully and I didn’t want to…”

Natasha grabbed your hand and gave you a gentle squeeze, making you look at them. They were smiling a little amused but they weren’t judging. You bit your lip nervously, embracing the warmth of Natasha’s touch as she rubbed tender circles on the back of your hand.

“Thank you for the compliment, malyshka” Natasha started softly, as if she was trying to be careful of not scaring you away “I’m Natasha and this is my wife, Wanda”

“And I gotta say, you have a very cute name” Wanda added, smiling at you and almost climbing Natasha’s lap just to be closer to you because her wife got to touch you first and the brunette was competitive.

“You guys do too” you nodded, downing half the drink before you could keep talking and you made a bigger fool of yourself “You also make a lovely couple”

And they did. They truly did. It shouldn’t be fair that two women that hot were together but life was never fair. And they looked like a match made in heaven, like two pieces that belonged together perfectly. It was written all over them.

But knowing that didn’t keep you from feeling a little disappointed because the chances of them looking for a third were very thin.

“Oh, thank you. That’s really sweet, isn’t it moya lyubov’?” Wanda smiled at her wife and Natasha hummed, her eyes fixed on you even when her wife kissed her cheek.

“Is that… Russian or something?” you asked curiously and Natasha offered you a proud smile, one that made your heart flutter.

“It is. Good job, malyshka” Natasha praised and your arousal pooled between your legs “Wanda called my love and I just called you little one” she explained but you were half listening. You nodded but you were squeezing your legs thanks to the praise and the pet name, what was wrong with you?

“I’m not that little” you murmured and Wanda giggled “I’m twenty five”

“It’s not like that, sweetheart” Wanda explained with a soft smile “Although, for us you are little. In a cute way and maybe we are just older” your lips parted to ask but she tutted “It’s rude to ask a lady her age”

“She’s thirty five, I’m thirty seven” Natasha rolled her eyes playfully and Wanda smacked her arm. You giggled “You act like you are eighty or something, Maximoff”

“Says the woman that keeps complaining about her knee” Wanda scoffed and winked at you.

Their silly banter was refreshing. You weren’t sure how long they’ve been together but the way they acted around each other was something you wished you would be able to find one day. Being around someone that long for them to be your best friend and your lover.

“So, malyshka, what brings you here? To Cancun, I mean” Natasha asked grinning at you.

“For that, I think I’ll need another drink” you said shyly.

“As you wish” Natasha called a waiter over.

And you tried to collect your thoughts and feelings. It was a terrible idea to talk about your ex when you were trying to flirt with them. But they asked and you couldn’t find in yourself to lie, not to them.

Their beauty made you nervous and made your whole body buzz with need. But both women also looked at you as if they could catch you when you fell, like they would never judge.

The real question was: could you trust them?

(—)

None of you were sure how long you’ve been hanging in that booth. But the more you talked to them, the more comfortable you felt.

The moment you saw Wanda, you knew she was a sweet person. There was a light around her that was compelling, that called you without trying. But getting to know her was a full experience. The brunette was well educated, loved reading, she was the reason Natasha didn’t get a dog because she was more of a plant person and she volunteered in a music center by giving piano lessons for children that couldn’t afford them.

She was a true angel. Plus, you now were sure about her motherly energy.

Natasha, on the other hand, at first seemed like a little rigid. She teased, she flirted, but it was like Natasha was holding back. You saw the moment the redhead started easing up to you, how her body relaxed and her smile was more genuine.

She turned out to be hilarious, a goofy woman that loved pushing her wife’s buttons even when that got her in trouble, a huge protective energy and incredibly intelligent.

Natasha read you like an open book, every question she asked was precise as if she already knew the answer and wanted to confirm it. But it made sense, she ran her own security company, she needed to know how to read people. It was impressive nevertheless, because she was a software engineer and you always pictured people like that having a little more trouble when mingling.

Both were amazing and you weren’t sure if you wanted to be with them or be like them. Because together, they looked like a solid couple that knew each other better than they knew themselves.

Wanda would scrunch her nose when she didn’t understand a small thing and Natasha would be there explaining patiently to her wife in words that were more familiar to her. Natasha would tense up when a question took her by surprise and Wanda would caress her arm and lock her fingers with her wife’s.

And you wished you could be jealous, even if you didn’t know of who or what, but it wasn’t coming. Because they were also making sure to wrap you in their own bubble.

They listened to you when you talked about the real reason you were there and their eyes softened as if they were going through the same thing. Wanda asked about your work and listened carefully. Natasha asked about your goals and even offered to help if you were comfortable with.

You weren’t sure how they kept pulling you closer. Maybe it was the way Natasha kept ordering for you, not before checking in and asking if you needed something else. Maybe it was the way Wanda smiled at you softly when she noticed you were getting nervous and called you sweet names.

Both wrapped you in comfort and security. Drawing lines around you that they kept asking silently if you were okay with them crossing. Not pushing, only patience. And you weren’t sure where it was going, because they were taking their time, but you wouldn’t mind if it ended up with them being just friends. As long as you got to keep them by your side, it seemed worthy.

Then, Wanda made it very clear for you. Maybe it was the alcohol running through her veins, maybe it was her eagerness or maybe it was her impatience. But she made the effort to be transparent with you. No more dancing around.

“Has anyone told you how pretty you are?” Wanda asked with a flirty smirk, her chin resting on her fist as her other hand played with the straw of her drink.

Your cheeks started to burn. It wasn’t only the compliment, it was the way she was looking at you with hunger but mostly with genuine adoration.

They just met you. But just like you found them extremely alluring, they both were buzzing with need to have you in more ways they wanted to admit. Because the moment you sat down, it felt like a missing piece was found. The real one, not their fail attempts to fill the void.

You looked at Natasha, almost expecting her to scold her wife for being so bold. But the redhead was looking at you the same way as Wanda.

“I- well, I guess? I’m not sure” you stuttered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and giving a sip to what seemed to be your tenth drink “but that’s fine. Not a big fan of feeding my ego”

Wanda giggled, a sound that was enchanting like a siren voice and your heart skipped a beat.

“Pretty and cute. I think you should feed that ego” Wanda shrugged, leaning back and crossing her legs as she played with a lock of her hair “After all, it’s true. Don’t you think, Tasha?”

Your eyes landed on Natasha. A little nervous because her wife was blunt with you and you were afraid of flirting back. Not when you weren’t sure about their whole dynamic.

But Natasha hummed, green eyes twinkling with amusement and something you were afraid to name. The redhead leaned closer and her hand landed on your knee, her grin widened when you squeezed your legs together as her touch electrified your skin.

“Wanda is right, malyshka” Natasha smiled and gave you a gentle squeeze before leaning back and placed her other hand on Wanda’s thigh “Not only is she always right” Wanda hummed proudly and you giggled “but it’s true. You are really pretty” her eyes danced over your face, stopping on your lips before they kept going down and your skin started burning “cute” the redhead bit her lip and looked back to your eyes “hot, I would dare to say. And incredibly smart. We like smart, don’t we dorogaya?”

You looked at Wanda. The brunette was also checking you out, biting her index finger as her eyes roamed your body. They weren’t even assessing you. No, they were enjoying the view. Like admiring a painting they were ready to buy and hang to look pretty at their house.

You almost whimpered. Arousal pooling between your legs and your fingers twitching with need. You wanted to blame the alcohol for your horny state, but it was all their doing. Everything about them was a turn on and they hadn’t even touched you.

And your body buzz with excitement at the thought of they doing it because if they could do that much without their touch, what would happen when they did?

“Very much. It’s why a fell in love with you” Wanda looked at Natasha and they leaned closer. Closing the gap between them, lips locking in the steamiest kiss you had ever witnessed or had.

You bit your lip, moving your leg impatiently and tugging the hem of your dress. But then, everything stopped because a moan escaped your lips before you could even process it.

Natasha and Wanda broke the kiss, sharing a knowing look that you didn’t see because now you were downing the rest of your drink and fighting with the ice cubes as if they could cool down your burning cheeks.

“Everything okay, malyshka?” Natasha smirked, watching you try to merge with your glass and when it didn’t work you called over a waiter.

Your ears reddened, feeling the amused gazes of the women as you tried to order a drink. The waiter glanced at Natasha, as if he was asking permission since she had been ordering for you all night. The redhead nodded, her eyes barely leaving you and when you turned to look at them you started coughing.

“Easy there, sweetheart” Wanda said with faux worry and leaned to grab your hand. You nodded, clearing your throat and trying to smile at them “Well, Natasha asked you a question. Won’t you answer? It’s rude to ignore”

Wanda ignored the small pinch her wife gave her. The brunette’s eyes darkened with more hunger as you squirmed on your seat. You weren’t nervous. Well, not as much as you were turned on by her tone. It was deliberate and commanding. And when Natasha looked at you, she saw desire written all over your face.

“I- yes. Sorry” you managed to say and looked at Natasha “Everything is okay, Natasha. Thank you for asking” you glanced at Wanda for a moment, trying to see if she was pleased but when she didn’t move or say anything you looked back to Natasha “and sorry for ignoring you when you asked”

It should’ve been humiliating or that’s what you thought trying to make sense of the tingle in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t find in yourself to care about it. Not when your heart was seeking approval from them.

The redhead offered you a proud smile and nodded, but you almost moaned again when Wanda talked.

“Good girl. Such good manners” you held back a whimper as Wanda started playing with Natasha’s hair. You thanked the waiter for the drink and Wanda stopped him before he could leave “Perhaps we should close our tab, moya lyubov’”

But she wasn’t looking at Natasha, Wanda was looking at you and you choked mid-drink. You started coughing again and Wanda smiled with amusement.

“Yes, please. It’s time for us to go” Natasha said to the waiter and he nodded, excusing himself to get the receipt.

You took a deep breath and started to slide off the booth. Both women looked at you confused as you stood up and smiled at them, opening your small purse and searching for cash.

“I guess that’s my queue to leave. Thank you both for the lovely night” you said softly, pulling out some money and offering it to Natasha that looked at you like you just insulted her “It’s not much but I can’t let you pay for all my drinks” you explained, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as your other hand trembled nervously as if the money felt heavy on your palm.

“That’s not necessary, it was my pleasure” Natasha smiled, her eyes now unreadable as she looked at you and you bit your lip.

You were too focused on her to notice when Wanda found her way out of the booth and stood next you. But the warmth of her hand startled you for a moment. You looked at her, her hand still tender over your arm as she caressed you and you eased up.

“We are not ready to let you go just yet” Wanda said softly, her eyes flicking for a second to your lips and she looked back at you when she caressed your cheek with the back of her fingers and you leaned into her touch without fully realising it “Such a pretty girl. So reacting”

Natasha appeared behind Wanda, arms instantly wrapped around her wife’s waist as she rested her chin over her shoulder and smiled at you.

“We were hoping for you to join us in our room” you looked at her in awe and for a moment, Natasha doubted herself but she forced herself to keep going “It’s okay if you don’t want to or you are uncomfortable. It’s just that booth is bad for my back and I’m sick of these clothes”

“I- I don’t want to impose myself” you stuttered, stepping back and regretting it when you lost Wanda’s touch “I’m sure you have more interesting things to do than entertain me” you forced a laugh but they both looked at you even more confused.

“Yeah, we have more interesting things to do with you” Wanda said closing the gap between you again and she grabbed your hand, giving you a gently squeeze and you relaxed “But if you don’t want to, we will understand”

“Just don’t leave because you think we don’t like you” Natasha added with a reassuring smile and you bit down your lip.

It was a bad idea. You started liking them way too much and that could only end badly. At least, that’s what you were trying to convince yourself about. But your mind was already lost in both pair of green eyes that held all the promises in the world and were ready to give you the universe if you asked. For a night, but it sounded worthy.

“Are you guys sure? I really don’t want to…”

“Don’t finish that sentence, malyshka” Natasha said a little more firmly, a tone that told you there was no room for argument “We are sure. What about you?”

“Yeah. Fine, let’s do it” you sighed and both smiled proudly, like using your words was all they need “Let me go tell my friends”

Wanda stopped you before you could walk, her grip more firm as a silent command and you couldn’t fully understand why your body kept reacting to every order they gave you. Their words told you were free, the commands were silent but not pushy but you weren’t so sure now you wanted that freedom. Your body wanted to follow commands, would your mind like that too?

“I’m sure you can text them, right?” Wanda said softly and you tilted your head slightly “My feet are killing me, sweetheart” she explained and you smiled shyly.

“Oh, yeah. Sure. I’ll text Luke” you said pulling out your phone and they smiled proudly again, making your heart fluttered with satisfaction.

“Well, I guess then we go now” Natasha said softly and hoisted Wanda in her arms and the brunette gasped “for your feet, dorogaya”

“Always my hero” Wanda pecked her lips and then winked at you “Lead the way, pretty girl”

Your breath hitched and your heart raced. But you started walking. If it ended in tears, you would gaslight yourself into thinking it was the alcohol’s fault.

(—)

Natasha and Wanda’s room was on the top floor. The one reserved for members. And when they opened the door to their suite, you wondered once again how rich they were.

They dressed, looked and talked expensive. Did they taste the same?

And maybe Natasha diminish her company, making it sound like it was a small business but standing at the entrance of that big room was telling you otherwise.

“Oh, sweetheart, apologies for the mess” Wanda said softly next to you once Natasha put her down “Natasha forgets to clean after herself”

Natasha snorted, already standing next to bed and picking the phone “Yeah, me. Because I wear these” she said amused, showing her wife a red thong and your cheeks flushed when Natasha winked at you “Yeah, good night. I would like to order room service?”

Wanda approached her wife and smacked her arm as Natasha played around when Wanda tried to snatch the thong out of her hands. It was impressive the way her voice didn’t waver while doing so, like nothing was going on even when her wife was threatening to kill her silently.

You giggled softly, not able to look away. And Wanda finally snatched the piece, although something told you Natasha let her win.

The brunette turned to look at you as her wife grinned behind her making you laugh a little, but Wanda’s stare made you stop and you pursed your lips. She approached you and your feet almost moved to close the gap, Wanda was faster though.

Her index finger curled beneath your chin and lifted it up. Your cheeks blushed as green eyes studied you carefully.

“What’s so funny, sweetheart?” her voice was dripping with sweetness. A trap wrapped in silk and you shook your head “Nothing? Hm, interesting”

You bit your lip nervously, playing with your fingers as you tried to look down but Wanda wasn’t letting you. The brunette was enjoying every delicious second of you squirming under her gaze.

And maybe now the alcohol was doing the trick because you could swore Wanda was leaning closer to you, her breath colliding against your face with a mix of cherry and vodka. Or maybe it was you the one that was being pulled closer, you couldn’t tell.

Your lips brushed against each other’s, you closed your eyes as your body buzzed with excitement and then Natasha broke the spell.

“Maximoff, leave her alone” Natasha said wrapping her arms around Wanda from behind.

For a second you were scared but when your eyes met the redhead’s she was amused and her eyes were darkened. She whispered something in Wanda’s ear, her eyes not daring to leave you and then it was Wanda’s turn to blush and bite her lower lip.

“Fine, I’ll behave” Wanda sighed finally and broke the embrace.

She started cleaning a little. It was true, the mess was hers but Natasha was the one to blame for that because she made it almost impossible for her wife to pick something when the redhead kept threatening her to rip it off her body.

The reason they were out was to get you out of their minds, to focus on each other and not the need of having you. And when you walked in, it was like a divine sign. Or at least that’s what Wanda said.

Natasha placed a tender hand over your hip and your breath hitched with the firmness of her touch. You wondered if she was always so gentle or if she was holding back to not scare you away.

“I hope you don’t mind” she started as her other hand cradled your jaw and you leaned into her touch. She offered you a soft smile even when you saw a flash of fear in her eyes for a moment “I ordered some drinks and food, you can’t have an empty stomach with all the alcohol you’ve been drinking” your cheeks were burning, you weren’t sure that was going away anytime soon. And you tried to look away but Natasha tutted “None of that, malyshka. Don’t hide from me, please”

Your heart melted. The softness of her voice made you want to hug her but you weren’t so sure. And your mind started running crazy, being flooded with unnecessary thoughts.

Why were they so sweet with you? Why putting this much effort into someone they just met? They had the perfect life, the perfect marriage and yet, they were showering with attention and care.

“Why me?” you whispered, your tongue betraying your mind and Natasha furrowed her brows as her eyes clouded with confusion “Why are you guys being so nice to me? We just met”

Natasha opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a knock on the door and she sighed, like the interruption really bothered her. You offered her half a smile and she looked at you with apologetic eyes when she had to let you go.

“Come sit, sweetheart” Wanda called you from behind and you walked towards the sofa, swallowing nervously as you sat down “You okay? Did Natasha say something? Romanoff!”

Natasha was walking behind a man as he pushed the small cart with food and drinks.

“What I do, dorogaya? I swear it wasn’t me” Natasha said softly, grinning at her wife that was glaring at her “Thank you, we will leave it outside when we are done”

The redhead tipped him and he left, but her wife was still watching her with her hands over her hips and Natasha chuckled nervously. Wanda was ready to lecture her.

“She didn’t- Natasha didn’t say anything wrong” you rushed to say when Wanda opened her mouth and both looked at you.

The brunette approached you and crouched before you, taking your hand in between hers and looked at you with soft eyes.

“Are you being honest, sweetheart?” Wanda asked trying to read your face and you nodded “Words, pretty girl”

“Yes, Wanda” you whispered, lost in her gaze and Wanda smiled.

She stood up and looked at Natasha, that just grinned triumphantly and Wanda rolled her eyes playfully.

“Saved by the cute girl” Wanda teased her wife and Natasha shrugged.

“What can I say? I’m a saint!”

Wanda hummed and Natasha sat in the sofa in front of you as her wife placed a glass before you and some snacks over the coffee table. Then she joined the redhead, curling beside her and resting her right elbow over the back of the sofa.

They went back to assess you, seeking any sign of discomfort as if they already knew your body language. And at that point you were almost sure. Both seemed to be able to read you so easily.

Natasha leaned forward, taking a sip of her drink and then resting her arms over her thighs. You swallowed and bit your lip.

“You asked why” Natasha said softly and Wanda tensed slightly. Without having to look at her wife, Natasha leaned back to place her hand over Wanda’s knee “Wanda and I have been together since what? High school, my love?”

“Officially, since college. But yeah” Wanda smiled softly at Natasha and looked back at you again, her smile still on her lips.

“We were best friends, then lovers. We got married” Natasha’s gaze was soft, like she was trying to tell you everything she couldn’t with her eyes “And I love her with all my heart as much as she loves me” they looked at each other, like their love never wavered but only got stronger. Wanda pecked her lips and whispered something before they looked back at you “But something was missing. Well, not something. Someone”

At that, Natasha tensed up. You saw the moment her eyes clouded and she straightened up, her hands leaving Wanda’s knee to fold her arms over her chest. She was shielding herself.

Instinctively, you moved to the edge of the sofa. Your body trying to reach her, to comfort her or to at least apologise for asking, for forcing her to say something she didn’t seem ready to say.

But Wanda shook her head subtly, smiling gratefully but asking you silently to give Natasha a moment. You nodded and sat back.

“We work perfectly, don’t we moya lyubov’?” Wanda smiled at her wife, her hand already rubbing circles over her thigh and Natasha relaxed and looked at Wanda “Everything is almost perfect” the brunette caressed her wife’s cheek.

“Almost” Natasha whispered and as much as you wanted to look away and give them space, you couldn’t. Natasha looked at you again “but we need balance in our lives, you know? Someone to keep us in check, to remind us to live before we get consumed with our own things” Wanda intertwined her fingers with Natasha and both smiled at you “Someone with enough power to make us feel more free”

Your lips parted as the silence stretched in the room. Your cheeks were flushed and you shifted nervously on your seat. The words were sinking in your bones. Feeling so right that it scared you, because the words sounded real.

No one could be that mean to lie, right? But given your list of exes, you couldn’t trust your own judgement. Still, your heart needed to believe.

“I don’t think I am that someone” you murmured and Natasha stood up “I’m flattered, really. You’ve been so sweet to me. You both are awesome but…”

The redhead sat next to you and your voice died down. Natasha caressed your cheek tenderly as your breath hitched, her thumb brushing your lower lip as her eyes followed her movements. And then she brushed your hair back.

“We think you are. Yeah, we just met but look at us” she said softly “You are an attraction force. You didn’t leave our minds all day and then we talked to you and you sound so collected” Natasha leaned closer and you bit your lip “I don’t think you even know it. But if you are not comfortable, you can leave. We just needed you to know”

Your heart was drumming in your ears, your cheeks were burning but your mind went completely silent. Natasha’s eyes were twinkling with sincerity, a little fear and like she just opened her heart to you. So you did what you’ve been wanting to do all fucking night.

You kissed her.

At first, she flinched a little as her muscles stiffened. But when her mind finally realised what was happening, her lips started moving. Natasha was careful, her plumped lips softer than you imagined and gentler. She tasted like vodka and lime. But mostly, she tasted like a promise.

You whimpered, trying to deepened the kiss and Natasha pulled back. She smiled softly and shook her head, brushing your nose with hers.

“Not yet, malyshka. You are going to get me killed” she chuckled and you furrowed your brows.

“Killed? What do-“

A small tap on your shoulder cut you off, your cheeks heating up even more when you remembered the brunette. You turned to look at her, swallowing nervously and an apology already on the tip of your tongue but she raised a brow.

“If you dare to apologise, you will regret it” Wanda said firmly, sitting next to you and tapping her thigh “Come here, sweetheart”

Your mouth ran dry and you glanced at Natasha, that gave you a small nod and a reassuring smile. You straddled Wanda’s lap and her hands grabbed your hips, keeping you steady.

She leaned closer. Lips brushing your neck as she inhaled your scent. You smelled like coconut, summer breeze and dreams. You held back a moan when she placed a soft kiss on your jaw, your fingers locking on her shoulders trying to ground you and she smiled.

“You are so damn beautiful. Less than a day knowing you and our lives already shine” she whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear “You are perfect, sweetheart”

Before you could reply, before you could even think of denying her words, her lips captured yours. Wanda was a little rougher, impatient, but gentle all at once. Her tongue outlined your lower lip and you followed her silent order, opening your mouth.

Her tongue was on a mission, like she was trying to memorise every inch of you and her grip tightened on your hips. You moaned against her lips, your hips grinding against hers when she bit your lower lip, tugging it playfully and she smirked when you grunted.

“Such an impatient pretty girl” Wanda teased you and pecked your lips again “Did you eat something before going to the bar or were you planning on getting wasted?”

You looked at her in awe. Her tone firm but sweet, another trap wrapped in silk. One you would’ve run straight into if Natasha didn’t stop you.

“I wouldn’t lie if I were you, malyshka” Natasha said amused, leaning closer to you “She smells the lies from miles away”

Wanda hummed in agreement and you bit your lower lip, slightly distracted by Natasha’s fingers over your thigh.

“I- I didn’t” you admitted shyly “But I’m not hungry, I swear”

Wanda squinted her eyes, making you squirm over her and Natasha laughed.

“Maximoff, leave her alone. If she wants to eat, she will do it” Natasha smirked and Wanda pouted, looking at her wife “No, you won’t get away with everything you want”

“But she will need energy” Wanda defended herself and you gasped, making both look at you “unless you don’t want to…”

You leaned and kissed her again. You couldn’t trust yourself with talking. Not when they looked at you like they just found a treasure or how cute Wanda looked when she pouted. And the way she melted under your arms just fuelled your need of her.

You broke the kiss when Natasha huffed and when you turned to look at her, she was pouting like a child. You smirked amused as Wanda giggled and kissed your neck.

“What?” you asked wearing a cocky smirk. One that disappeared when Natasha stood up.

The redhead was taller than you, but you could almost feel the power radiating from her. She looked bigger, imposing, like she could ruin you if she just snapped her fingers.

It was her turn to smirk, sending a shiver down your spine and you almost squeaked. But Wanda started licking your neck and you whimpered when Natasha leaned.

“Not so cocky now, are we?” Natasha whispered and you bit down your lip “You are really lucky it’s our first night, malyshka. Really lucky”

It wasn’t a threat. She wasn’t warning you either. No, her words were a fucking promise. And instead of fearing her, you wanted to challenge her. You needed to see how far it could go.

Your brain wasn’t fully understanding how two women you just met, had total power over you. They weren’t forcing you, they weren’t pushing you. They kept giving you options and as free as you could feel, you didn’t want it. You wanted to be theirs.

It was the type of power that came with a lot of promises. The one that just asked for trust and care in return. Because Natasha and Wanda had some power over you. But you? You were the powerful one in that room. They would give you the universe if you just asked. All you had to do in return was trusting them. You had to give them the room to ruin you in all the right ways and they would be yours forever.

“Sweetheart, breathe” Wanda whispered in your ear and you realised your heart was racing, threatening you to jump out of your chest. You took a deep breath and looked at her “Good girl. Now be nice to daddy and apologise for making fun of her”

You moaned at the title. Your cheeks flushing when your eyes met Natasha’s. The redhead was grinning, green eyes daring you to not follow Wanda’s order. But you wouldn’t dare even if you wanted to.

“Sorry, Nat-“ Wanda pinched your side and your cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red “Sorry, daddy”

“Such an obedient plaything” Natasha said proudly.

Her fingers locked around your chin. A firm and steady grip that made you moan again as she leaned and kissed you. The first kiss was gentle and caring, this one felt like a claim.

Natasha kissed you like she was marking you, owning you and at the same time she was giving herself to you. Your head felt hazy. Your body craving them as if their lips over you weren’t enough.

Your fingers tugged Wanda’s hair when she bit your neck and the moment you moaned, Natasha’s tongue swirled with yours. It was like a practice dance. As if both knew all the right spots in your body, all the right things to do and say.

And it clicked.

You broke the kiss, panting and pushing Wanda away gently. Both looked at you confused and you tried to collect your thoughts before talking because you could potentially ruin your night.

“I’m not the first one, am I?” you asked carefully, watching the moment they shared a look and then went back to you “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. I’m sorry if I overstepped”

“Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t” Wanda cradled your jaw and gave you a sad smile “I wish I could tell you, you are the first one but you are right, you aren’t”

“But you are the one we want” Natasha added and smiled “and before you dare to say again we just met, sometimes you just know. We can’t name what it is, but we know we want you”

Your heart fluttered “What happened to…”

“That’s a story for another day, sweetheart. Why don’t we move this party somewhere more comfortable, hm?”

Wanda looked at Natasha and her wife nodded. You gasped when the redhead hoisted you over her shoulder, she was way too strong. She handled you with ease and care, putting you down on the bed and smiling like she just grabbed a pillow.

“Do you want us to stop?” Natasha asked softly and you shook your head “Remember what mommy told you, malyshka. Use your words”

You whimpered “No, daddy. I don’t want to stop”

“Good girl” Natasha smiled proudly.

Wanda knelt behind you as Natasha crouched and started taking off your heels. Wanda unzipped your dress slowly, tossing your hair aside and she kissed your shoulder blades. Natasha started kissing your legs and your mind didn’t know where to focus as Wanda pulled your dress down slowly.

The experience was something you had never felt. They were acting with so much care, making you feel safe. As if they were unwrapping a gift and wanted to engrave the experience in their minds.

The redhead helped her wife taking off your dress and both moaned at the sight of your body. Black lingerie covering your body and you couldn’t find in yourself to feel shy. Not when they were looking at you like you were a masterpiece.

“If you want to stop, you will say so. Understood?” Wanda whispered in your ear, tilting your head to the side and kissing your neck.

“Yes, mommy”

The praise came as a moan. Your words igniting Wanda’s skin as you used the right title. The brunette started sucking on your neck and you grunted. And when you looked down, Natasha was already kissing your thighs.

Both were marking you, their hands caressing your body like you were made of glass. As if you could break underneath them if they were rougher with you.

Your knees opened when Natasha moved up and she smirked. Your body was already reacting on its own. Your mind was silent, trying to remember every kiss, every movement, every sound they were making.

Your breath faltered when Natasha stopped in your covered cunt. She inhaled your scent, whimpering as her mind tried to decide what to do. And when she placed a chaste kiss and moved to your abdomen, you grunted.

Wanda unhooked your bra, throwing it somewhere around the floor and you tossed your head back when she cupped your breasts. You hid your face in the crook of her neck, kissing her as she pinched your nipples.

And you moaned, feeling Natasha’s tongue over your skin as Wanda’s hands worked over your chest. Your teeth sank in her skin and the brunette growled when you started sucking.

Your hips bucked up when Wanda’s fingers were replaced with Natasha’s mouth. Her tongue swirling over your harden nipple and her lips popping when she let you go.

The redhead continued to mark you, bruises appearing over your skin as a statement. When her knee pressed against your cunt you moaned and started grinding to ease the tension.

“Easy, malyshka” Natasha whispered in your ear “We are getting there”

Then you whined when they stopped touching you. Both kissing over you as you looked up. They were rough, you could almost feel the power battle that was taking place over you.

Your fingers hooked in Natasha’s pants and the redhead broke the kiss to looked down on you with curious eyes. You smiled innocently.

“Too much clothes, daddy”

Wanda chuckled as Natasha smirked with amusement and they shared a loving look, checking on each other before they kept going. The brunette pecked her wife’s lips and said something in russian.

Their attention was back on you. Moving around you with ease and Natasha made you stand up. You tripped and she caught you. Your heart melted when you heard a soft ‘I got you’ that felt like an oath.

“Who do you want to undress first, little one?” Wanda asked softly and you bit your lip.

Your eyes danced in between them. Your ears ringing as you tried to decide and when your breath hitched, the brunette’s hand wrapped around your wrist. You looked at her and she smiled reassuringly.

“Perhaps our cute girl shouldn’t choose” Natasha suggested tenderly and your cheeks flushed. Her finger traced your collarbone and she smiled “it’s a huge decision, isn’t it malyshka?” you moaned at her tone. Natasha was stripping you from your freedom, the one that came with consequences and a lot of anxiety “Mommy and daddy will do it for you. Sit and watch”

You nodded and sat at the edge of the bed. Your eyes fixed on them as they helped each other out of their clothes. Their movements deliberate, their eyes glancing at you every now and then with smiles that reached their eyes.

Wanda turned around. Natasha unzipped Wanda’s dress and her tongue traced her wife’s spine. You weren’t sure if Wanda moaned or if it was you. You clasped your legs to get some relief.

But your underwear was ruined when Wanda knelt before Natasha. It was one hell of a sight as the brunette looked up to her wife and took off her pants. You whimpered when Natasha stepped out of her pants and took off her shirt.

Both were goddesses. Your eyes were trying to decide where to focus. Natasha’s toned abdomen was calling you but Wanda’s long legs were alluring. You needed them both, not sure if you needed them to touch you or you needed to touch them.

As if they could read your thoughts, they approached you. Standing before you with softened eyes, giving you silent permission to touch.

You swallowed, not ready to pick between them without feeling you were failing them. Wanda smiled at you knowingly and looked at her wife.

“Dibs” Wanda said triumphantly and you looked at them confused as Natasha chuckled.

“No, you can’t call dibs. She gets to do it” Natasha said amused and you tilted your head with curiosity “Mommy wants to pick who goes first. Do you want her to pick, malyshka?”

You giggled softly and nodded “Yes, daddy” you looked at Wanda and grinned “You pick, mommy”

The brunette caressed your cheek and smiled proudly. She leaned to peck your lips, leaving a dreamy look in your eyes.

“Our perfect girl” she praised you and you smiled “Tasha, sit on the bed”

Natasha huffed but complied, she knew better than to piss off her wife by not following orders. The redhead sat next to you with a grin and you giggled when she winked at you.

“If you piss mommy off, I will let you cum sooner than later” Natasha teased and you gasped but Wanda smacked her thigh.

“Do not give her ideas” Wanda scolded and Natasha rolled her eyes playfully “Sweetheart come here, kneel before daddy”

You did as told, eagerly. And Natasha moaned at the sight of you as you looked at her with doe eyes that twinkled with excitement.

Wanda knelt behind you, kissing your neck and then your shoulder. She pressed her chest against your back and you moaned when she nip your earlobe.

“Daddy is so beautiful, isn’t she?” Wanda purred and you nodded “Do you want to touch, little one?”

“Yes, mommy, please”

Wanda hummed proudly and took your hand. She showed you the way, your fingers caressing her legs tenderly. Natasha rested her body over her elbows, tossing her head back when your hand reached her thigh.

“She will never say it out loud, but she loves being worshipped” Wanda murmured and you whimpered as she guided your fingers over Natasha’s clothed cunt “Natasha acts all tough and powerful, but she is a golden retriever in disguise. A woman that needs to be taken care of” your thumb pressed against her clit and Natasha moaned, a sound so heavenly that you thought you could come just by hearing it “Show her how much you want her, sweetheart. Make daddy feel good”

Natasha gasped when your arms hooked around her legs and you pulled her closer with strength you didn’t know you had. And your body moved with a mission in mind.

The redhead watched you licked her abdomen, sucking and marking her. Her body was perfect, museum worthy. Wanda helped you unhooked her bra and you sucked her right breast first and then the left one.

Natasha’s breath hitched as you kept leaving bruises over her body. She didn’t like love bites, at least not that much unless Wanda was doing it to prove a point. But with you doing the job, looking at her like you’ve been dying to taste her and own her, Natasha knew she was fucked.

Maybe you weren’t their first addition to their marriage. They’ve tried multiple times and as much as they gave themselves up, it never reached that point. Not because they didn’t want to. It was because they never felt ready.

It could be the alcohol in her veins or her foggy mind. But instead of wanting to stop you from keep bruising her, she pulled you closer.

Wanda took in the image, noticing the way Natasha was letting you step into a territory she barely unlocked. The way her wife was holding you close as she unravelled under your touch. And she smiled because as much as the three of you felt like something that could vanish as soon as the sun came up, Wanda knew it wouldn’t happen.

They just found you. They wouldn’t let you go any time soon.

Not when Natasha felt so safe. Not when Wanda’s body buzzed with excitement and need she had never felt with anyone but Natasha. Not when you were so obedient, so eager, so fucking perfect.

Your tongue traced a line down her body. Your fingers hooked on the waistband of her underwear as you asked silently for permission and Natasha nodded, biting her lip as she watched you undress her.

You moaned at the sight of her slick. You leaned and kissed her thighs tenderly. And when your lips met her cunt, you both moaned.

“Take your time, sweetheart” Wanda cooed, her hand snaked between your legs. You whimpered when she tossed aside your underwear “I got you”

You swirled your tongue over Natasha’s clit, moaning at the taste and Wanda pressed her thumb against yours. You ran down your tongue making Natasha buck her hips up. And when your thumb rubbed circles over her clit as your tongue entered her, Natasha tossed her head back with a loud moan.

Your movements started gentle, slow, almost afraid of rushing things. But then your hunger came out to play, drunk on her taste and her moans. The way her fingers twitched next to your face trying to restrain herself from tugging your hair.

And your mind was hazy, moaning against her cunt as Wanda’s fingers worked between your legs. You whimpered when she pushed two fingers inside of you, your knees spreading a little more to give her more space to work and Wanda hummed satisfied.

The three of you were moving in sync. Wanda’s lips marking your back as she pumped her fingers, you eating Natasha out like she was the last meal on earth and the redhead finally broke and tugged your hair, guiding you as she bucked her hips up, grinding her hips against your face.

“Fuck, malyshka” Natasha whimpered, forcing herself to watch you and when she met your eyes she moaned louder “You look so perfect like this. I’m almost jealous, thinking your tongue worked on someone else” you grunted and Wanda fastened her movements, a possessive rhythm took over with Natasha’s words “Yes, baby, just like that. Don’t stop”

You pushed your hips back, trying to get Wanda to move faster. And she complied, her mind deciding she couldn’t wait for you to come around her fingers.

Natasha tugged your hair again and you whimpered, your eyes fixed on hers and you sucked on her clit and she moaned, not only at the sensation but at the way you were looking at her.

“I’m so close, please don’t stop” Natasha begged, feeling her abdomen tightened and her knees clasped in your head “Fuck”

Wanda licked your shoulder and smirked “You will come when she does, sweetheart. So it’s up to you”

Your eyes rolled back, your walls clenching around Wanda and your abdomen tightened as you tried to wait. And Natasha came moaning your name. She collapsed against the bed as you slowed your movements, your chin dripping with drool and her arousal as Wanda kept you in place.

“You made her a mess, sweetheart” Wanda whispered and you pressed your right cheek on Natasha’s thigh, moaning as Wanda kept pumping her fingers and her thumb rubbed circles on your clit “Mommy is so proud of you, little one. You are such a good girl. Cum, baby, claim your reward”

Your back arched against her chest, your head leaning on her shoulder and Wanda sucked on your neck as you came around her fingers. Your desperate moans filled the room and Natasha straightened up, watching the way your body trembled against Wanda’s.

The brunette slowed her movements and she captured your lips with hers, tasting her wife and moaning against your mouth. You bit her lip harshly and she whimpered. And she broke the kiss when she pulled out her fingers as you grunted.

You watched her lick her thumb clean, her eyes fixed on you for a moment before looking at Natasha. The redhead understood the command, leaning closer with her mouth opened as Wanda pushed her fingers in.

Natasha looked at you as she sucked her wife’s fingers, tasting you and moaned. You watched her mesmerised, noticing the way her eyes rolled back when Wanda pressed her fingers down her tongue. Natasha’s lips popped when Wanda pulled out her fingers and smiled.

“You taste better than I imagined, malyshka” your cheeks flushed and she signalled you to get closer “And that pretty mouth does wonders, mommy will love it” her knuckles caressed your cheek “Our perfect girl”

Natasha kissed you tenderly, your skin flushed and your heart racing. You were sure you could never get tired of her lips. The way she kissed you was charged with something you couldn’t name but it sat right on your bones.

Wanda stood up, leaving you both as you made out. Your body hovered Natasha’s as you climbed the bed and her hands squeezed your ass making you moan. You only broke the kiss when your lungs started burning needing more air and you smiled at Natasha.

“You are perfect too, daddy” you leaned and kissed her neck “So perfect”

Natasha grunted as you sucked on her neck, her hand slapping your ass and made you moan. The redhead tugged your underwear, contemplating ripping it off and the consequences. But it lasted one moment before she did it anyway and you gasped.

“I’ll buy a new pair, don’t worry” she grinned and you giggled.

Natasha’s heart skipped a beat, founding you extremely cute. It was a balance, silly things during an intimate moment that warmed her heart. Someone that didn’t expect her to be cold and heartless but actually enjoyed her goofy self.

“Tasha!” Wanda gasped and you both turned to look at her “It was such a nice piece. Why you do it, moya lyubov’?”

“My hands have mind of their own” Natasha grinned and Wanda chuckled “I see you brought the big guns”

In that moment, you noticed the strap on her hands and you gasped. Wanda looked at you amused, approaching you as if you were her prey. The small break was over because it was Wanda’s turn and Natasha was going to show you the right way to treat her wife.

“You are so tight, sweetheart. I think you deserve to be stretch out” you moaned as she brushed your lips with the tip of the toy “Sadly, it won’t be me doing it. Daddy doesn’t like to share her toys” she pouted and Natasha chuckled under you.

“Malyshka, sit closer to the headboard. I’ll show you how to treat mommy, hm?” Natasha instructed and you looked at her “And since it’s our grand opening night, I will let you enjoy the show as you please”

Natasha winked at you and you growled at her words. You moved around the bed, following her orders and the redhead gave you a proud smile that only increased your arousal.

You took off what was left of your underwear and tossed it away, your body getting comfortable between the pillows as you watched them carefully.

Natasha went back to her powerful state. Imposing and commanding as she watched her wife putting the strap in place around her hips. The redhead told her something in russian and Wanda grunted, stripping off her underwear and kneeling before Natasha.

It was hard to tell which one held the power over the other. They both seemed to share but in that moment, the picture was clear.

Wanda looked at her wife with devotion. Letting Natasha handle her as she pleased. Focusing on her and not daring to look away, not even when the brunette wanted so bad to watch you.

And as easy as it looked, the only reason Wanda bent to her wife’s wishes was because she loved Natasha dearly. Enough to give up her own power, enough to show the redhead she was hers too.

Natasha looked at you and you moaned. They looked perfect, delicious, you couldn’t even feel left out because they were letting you watch their interaction. It was hot the way they surrendered to each other, their love an intoxicating force that not everyone could see fully. Not like this. But you were lucky by just witnessing.

“Mommy’s tongue ran a little earlier, don’t you think?” Natasha smirked and looked down to her wife “Telling our perfect girl how much I love being worshipped, how soft I can be, how to hold power over me” you and Wanda moaned. Natasha’s smirk widened and she turned to you “I’ll pay back the favour. Here’s the secret, malyshka” her hand grabbed the toy and she brushed it against Wanda’s lips. Her wife opened her mouth and Natasha pushed it gently “Mommy looks so collected, so expensive, you wouldn’t even dare to think how much of a slut she is” your hand landed between your legs as Wanda bobbed her head “She walks around the world pretending she doesn’t like to serve, to please, but her inner slut always comes out to play in the bed. Isn’t that right, my love?”

Wanda and you moaned. The brunette’s mouth stuffed with the toy as your fingers played with your clit. Natasha looked so powerful like that, holding your attention and your needs. Knowing what to say and when to say it. A side of her that she always showed; composed, in control, intimidating and powerful.

Because her goofy self was for those that were close to her. She couldn’t be nice to everyone, it wasn’t in her nature to trust any stranger and yet, she trusted you. Natasha was willing to let you see every part of herself.

“Malyshka, be a dear and toss me a pillow” Natasha asked gently and you moved to complied. She smiled gratefully and dropped the pillow before Wanda “Come on, my love. Put on a show for our girl. Ride it as you suck my cock”

Wanda whimpered, her hands grabbing the pillow and putting it underneath her. Her head kept bobbing on the toy, the tip meeting the back of her throat as Natasha tugged her hair.

It was also hard for Wanda to show that side of her. Because Natasha’s words were true; the brunette walked around the world with all the confidence she had. Every inch of herself screamed power and she loved it.

Wanda loved the control, her ability to solve everything as if the world depended on her and the power all of it gave her. But when Natasha stripped her out of her power, Wanda also found a way to breathe.

She wouldn’t say it out loud, she would deny it if asked, but there was something about giving her power up for the woman she loved the most that was thrilling. But she felt vulnerable.

Her power shielded her from the outside. None of their exes had ever witnessed the power exchange between them because Wanda couldn’t let them see that side of her, the one that could break if handled poorly.

However, you were there. Touching yourself at the sight of her sucking the strap and humping the pillow and instead of seeing someone easy to destroy, you still looked at her like her power was never gone.

No, Wanda still had power over you. She wasn’t vulnerable. Wanda didn’t feel the ache in her chest or her usual fear igniting inside of her. She was free, holding everything and letting it go all at once.

Natasha fucked her wife’s mouth as if she could just come by the sight. You pumped two fingers inside you as you applied pressure on your clit. And Wanda was humping the pillow like it could save her.

“Seems like our girl is liking the show, Wands” Natasha grinned at you, her fingers tugging the brunette’s hair and you moaned when Wanda choked on the strap “Who would’ve thought? You are a slut just like mommy, hm?”

You whimpered, curling your fingers inside as Natasha paid attention to both of you. You were part of the show, they were letting you in and it felt like your body was on fire.

The gagging nosies Wanda was making were driving you to the edge. Her neck was flushed and you could see drool dripping. But what almost broke you was the moment you saw a tear rolling down her cheek.

You wished you were Natasha in that moment. The sight of Wanda from above was heavenly. A sight that shattered the powerful image of the brunette, the same woman that commanded you with a single look.

You moaned louder, your hips bucking up trying to reach your high and Natasha looked at you with a smirk. She pulled out the toy and Wanda coughed trying to regulate her breathing. The redhead crouched before her wife and grabbed her chin.

“Keep moving, Wands” she ordered and Wanda whimpered, hands steadying herself over the floor as she was grinding her hips “But look at her. Look how much she loved watching you being a slut for me” Wanda’s eyes met yours and you both moaned, your abdomen tightened and you tossed your head back as you came around your fingers “I wish I could take the credit, my love. But you did that, don’t you love it? Someone finally matched your slutty ass”

And with that Wanda fell apart, her orgasm crashing over her bones. Natasha’s words landing in all the right ways. And when you finally regained yourself back, you crawled over the bed. You laid down over your chest and reached for Wanda, the brunette moaning your name like a prayer as she slowed down her movements with her eyes closed.

Your eyes met hers when she finally opened them. Panting with her cheeks flushed like she just realised how much of herself she let go and afraid that you would think less of her. But when you cradled her jaw and caressed her cheek with your thumb, Wanda leaned into your touch.

“Thank you, mommy” you whispered “you looked amazing”

Natasha smiled softly, watching the interaction as her heart raced. You were giving them all they needed, all they craved and you didn’t even know. They cracked open before you and you weren’t judging, you were following them.

Wanda leaned and kissed you, a tender kiss that said more than she could trust her own words to tell. A silent thank you and at the same time, she was holding onto you like you could save her.

Then she broke the kiss and reached for your hand, sucking the fingers you were using to touch yourself and you moaned when her eyes never left yours. There was something more than hunger in them, something that screamed ‘see me as much as I see you’.

“You really are perfect” Wanda whispered after she let go of your fingers “Now, let mommy and daddy take care of you”

“I just had two-“

“It’s really not about how many times, malyshka” Natasha explained and you looked at her confused “Lay on your back and let us have you, yes?”

“Yes, daddy”

“Such a good girl you are” she pecked your lips.

You laid on your back and Wanda hovered your body, not before leaving bruises over your abdomen like Natasha did earlier. She was claiming you too, marking you as a shared possession with her wife. And when she finally was face to face with you, Wanda smirked.

Her hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath faltered. You bit your lip, nodding slightly as she squeezed a little more testing the limit. But Natasha and Wanda made a promise, they wouldn’t push too far that night.

They needed to try, to see how comfortable you were around them, how much of yourself you were willing to give. For them it wasn’t physical, it never was. They saw you, they wanted you, they talked to you and realised they needed you.

Love a first sight was for fairytales, but you looked like the one that could finally break them and glue them all at once. You were perfect in more than one way, you just had to believe it. And they were ready to make you see it.

“I want to try that pretty mouth of yours, is that okay little one?” Wanda whispered, brushing her lips against yours and then tracing your cheek with her nose as she inhaled your scent.

“Please, mommy” you murmured, closing your eyes as you felt Natasha’s hands over your thighs.

Wanda took a moment to admire you. You looked so eager, so innocent, so… breakable. But you were trusting them, she could feel it. Her fingers brushed your hair and your eyes fluttered open, meeting hers with a soft twinkle.

“If you could only see what we do” Wanda said softly, smiling as she brushed her lips against yours “We waited for you for so long, sweetheart. This will work out, I promise” she kissed you again and your hands held the back of her neck trying to pull her closer. Wanda broke the kiss and you grunted “Easy. The night is still young” she pecked your forehead “Now, if you make mommy cum, daddy will let you cum” she leaned closer to your ear “but I’m not like daddy, I don’t like sloppy work” she purred.

You nodded eagerly and she hummed, hovering your face and you moaned at the sight of her glistening cunt. She smelled delicious. Just like Natasha, she smelled like paradise. An expensive paradise.

“Okay, malyshka. You better make mommy cum. Tap her thigh if you need us to stop” Natasha said spreading your legs and you whimpered when Wanda lowered herself over your mouth and the redhead spit on your cunt.

Your lips sucked on Wanda’s clit and the brunette had to steady herself with the headboard. And you moaned against her cunt when you felt the tip of the toy in your entrance.

Your movements faltered as Natasha pushed inch by inch of the toy inside and Wanda grunted, getting impatient and started riding your face. You matched her pace once that Natasha bottomed out, grunting against Wanda when the redhead started moving.

Your head felt foggy. Overwhelmed by the sensation of both women over you. Their noises driving you to the edge. Wanda was moaning louder over you as your fingers dug into her skin and Natasha was whimpering, hypnotised by the way the toy disappeared inside of you.

And your back arched when her thumb pressed over your clit and Wanda’s movements turned erratic, her slick covering your face as she used you just like she used that pillow.

Soon the brunette came, legs pressed against your head as she shuddered above you. Wanda was sure she had never came that fast, not even Natasha had made her.

She moved after a few minutes, letting you breathe and moving your body so she could hold you from behind. You buried your face in her inner thigh, your hands holding her legs as Natasha hovered your body.

The redhead was focused, whimpering as she pounded her hips against yours. Your legs wrapped around her hips and both moaned when Natasha kissed your neck.

“You are so perfect, malyshka. So tight” she breathed out in your neck and you whimpered “We are not letting you go”

Natasha looked at you, green eyes as darkened as yours. You tried to talk but only a moan came out and Natasha smirked. Wanda caressed your hair, soft fingers grounding you while Natasha shattered your world.

“Do you like when daddy fucks you, sweetheart?” you looked up and Wanda’s eyes were fixed on you, engraving in her mind every feature of your face as it contorted with pleasure.

You nodded and sank your teeth in her thigh when Natasha got rougher. You needed them everywhere, you didn’t want the night to end. And when Wanda started rubbing your clit, you screamed with pleasure.

“Daddy, mommy, please” you whined, feeling so close again and Natasha grunted “I’m so close, don’t stop please”

But the redhead stopped, she pulled out and you mewled. Wanda shushed you as Natasha flipped you, raising your hips and pushing the toy inside again.

Her hands landed in between your shoulder blades and she pushed you down. Wanda’s hand tugged your hair as Natasha started grinding her hips faster, erratic, with her fingers between your legs.

“Come, detka. Show me how much you love daddy’s cock” Natasha whimpered and your knuckles turned white as you fisted the sheets.

And you came, not sure of what you screamed but your orgasm came down like a crashing wave. You whined when Natasha didn’t slow down, she went faster and rougher. Her fingers working over your sensitive clit and your nails started digging into Wanda’s thigh like she could save you.

“Tasha, I think-“

“No” Natasha grunted, looking at Wanda with hungry and possessive eyes “She can take it, right malyshka?” you moaned and Natasha pulled you up, pressing your back against her chest and bit your neck.

Your eyes met Wanda’s and the brunette searched for any sign of discomfort but when your eyes rolled back with pleasure, she knew you were okay.

She knelt before you, biting the other side of your neck. Both were marking you, claiming you and your mind was one step away of crashing. It didn’t take that long for you to come again, one hand tugging Wanda’s hair and the other one tugging Natasha’s.

And the redhead slowed down, but she wasn’t ready to pull out. Neither Natasha or Wanda were actually ready to give you a break. Not when the last orgasm was possessive, claiming and promising.

And you didn’t want to let them go either.

(—)

At some point that night and after watching them come undone under your touch, you had a break. Regretting not listening to Wanda about the food when your stomach roared with hunger.

But you were sore, your body slumped over their bed with sheets covering you slightly. You looked like a fucking masterpiece, covered in love bites all over. Sweat glistening your skin and your head hazy.

“Don’t sleep yet, sweetheart. It’s time to eat before bed” Wanda said softly, lifting your body and holding you in between her arms as you hid your face in the crook of her neck. You whined “None of that, pretty girl. You need to hydrate and eat”

“Mommy, please” you pouted and Wanda giggled, brushing your hair “Sleep now”

“She’s a little brat” Natasha grinned, straddling your lap and offering you a water bottle “Come on, malyshka, don’t get on mommy’s bad side”

You grunted but straightened up, drinking as Natasha held the bottle. Then she turned and held a club sandwich before you and you pouted again. The redhead chuckled but you sighed, reaching for a fry but Wanda smacked your hand.

“Sandwich first” Wanda ordered and you rolled your eyes, Natasha held back a grin.

“Daddy is more fun” you groaned and took a small bite of the sandwich as Natasha bit a fry and wiggled her brows, amused.

“You say that now, until she is the one mad” Wanda whispered in your ear and nip your earlobe “And if you keep being a brat, I’ll show you the real deal”

Natasha laughed and fed you a fry, then she offered her wife a bite of sandwich and Wanda looked at her gratefully.

“She’s right, I’m more fun” Natasha teased her wife, shrugging and biting another bite.

Wanda glared at her but you giggled. They kept bantering as you ate. And your eyes wandered over their bodies, they were as bruised as you. Not once did they stop you. They let you claim them as well and that made your heart flutter.

When the brunette was satisfied, Natasha cleaned up and Wanda moved to cuddle you. She pecked your lips and then peppered kisses all over your face making you giggle. And when she smiled at you, your breath hitched.

“Thank you for trusting us, sweetheart” she whispered and nudged your nose with hers “You did good”

“Thank you, mommy” you murmured and pecked her lips again.

Natasha laid behind you, covering Wanda’s body with the sheets and then hers. Her arm wrapped around your hips and pulled you closer, leaving a kiss behind your ear.

“Let’s rest, malyshka. Tomorrow we can talk about everything” she whispered and you nodded.

And they kept whispering sweet praises until you fell asleep. Natasha looked at Wanda one last time, a silent conversation being held over your sleeping body. They kissed softly and went back to nestle your body between theirs.

You were perfect. And they would make sure you knew it.

(—)

You slid out of the bed, careful not to wake them up. And when you stood up, you tripped a little, gasping.

The only thing you could blame the alcohol for was your damn headache. But every decision that night was yours and your heart wanted to believe everything was true and not just a dream.

You bit your lip. No, you wouldn’t ruin this for yourself with insecurities. You couldn’t when they were so sweet before, during and after everything. And if it was a lie, then they would have to tell you themselves.

Your phone started ringing and you jumped a little, running and trying to answer before waking them up. You tripped with the sofa, grunting as you reached for your purse and when you turned around, Wanda was already looking at you, leaning back on the headboard as you answered.

“Dude, where the fuck are you?” Luke’s voice was on the other end and Wanda beckoned you and your body moved on its own, you could swear on that.

“I’m a little… busy” you said softly and Wanda raised a brow with amusement “Why? What do you want?”

“Breakfast? Open the door, I’ve been knocking” your best friend groaned as you crawled over the bed and sat on Wanda’s lap.

And if Wanda’s mood wasn’t enough to prove you they were planning on keeping you, her lips sure did because they found their way to your neck soon enough.

“I’m not there, vipes” you bit your lip as Wanda licked your throat “But I’ll meet you at the restaurant”

Wanda slapped your ass and you held back a moan, looking at her confused and she started shaking her head. Making you furrow your brows.

“What do you mean you are not here? Oh wait!” he started laughing but you couldn’t snap at him, not when Wanda kept roaming your body with her hands “You still with them? Naughty girl!”

“I’m not telling you shit” you smirked but it faded away when Wanda mouthed ‘language’, you rolled your eyes and she slapped your ass again making you whine.

“Dude, you okay?”

“Yeah, I just tripped” you lied and Wanda giggled, pecking your lips “Anyway, see you at breakfast like in…” you looked at the screen but Wanda blocked your view and you frowned “Yes, Wanda?”

“You are not leaving” she sentenced and you looked at her in awe.

“But I’m hungry” you pouted and heard Luke screaming on the phone “Lucas, give me a minute. Shut up!”

Wanda grabbed your pillow and punched Natasha with it, her wife groaned and grabbed the pillow by the third time. She glared at her wife and you held back a smirk.

“What?” Natasha grunted, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Then her eyes found you and she squinted “Why is your phone in your hand, malyshka?”

“She’s trying to leave” Wanda replied and your jaw dropped, you grabbed the pillow from Natasha’s hand and punched her with it “Watch it, little one”

“That’s not- I’m not trying to leave, I swear” you looked at Natasha “I’m just hungry” Luke shouted your name again and you groaned “Luke, I said shut the fuck up! Give me another…”

“Luke, right?” Natasha said after snatching the phone from your hand and you looked at her stunned and Wanda smirked “Yeah, Natasha here. I don’t think she will make it to breakfast” the redhead hummed as she smacked your hand away and Wanda went back to kiss your neck “I see, yeah. When are you leaving?” she grabbed her phone and looked at the hour “Sure, we will join if that’s alright with you and your friends?” she hummed again and typed something in her phone, showing it to Wanda and her wife nodded “Yeah, see you then. Thank you”

Natasha hung up and placed your phones together over her nightstand and your jaw dropped. You weren’t sure if you heard right, but apparently the redhead already decided they weren’t going to leave your side.

“What did he tell you?” you asked as Natasha kissed her wife and looked at you amused.

“Something about a trip to Women Island?” she shrugged and leaned to kiss you “Hope you don’t mind if we tag along”

“I- I don’t but I don’t think you want to hang with four strangers and-“

“We are hanging out with you and may I remind you this stranger made you moa-“ you clasped your hand over her mouth as your cheeks started burning and she raised a brow.

“Fine, three strangers. They are stupid and teasing and…” Natasha licked your hand and you moved it away “Hey!”

“Oh so now you don’t like my tongue? Wasn’t she asking me to never stop using it last night, dorogaya?” Natasha asked to Wanda and the brunette laughed.

“Yeah, I remember that” she teased and you groaned, trying to get off Wanda’s lap but she kept you in place “What I don’t remember is giving you permission to move”

“Is this my new life? Am I gonna get teased for the rest of my life?” you said without really thinking about your words but when realisation settled, you panicked “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Yes, that’s what you should expect for the rest of your life” Natasha smiled and grabbed your hand “And we don’t mind hanging out with your friends. It will be good getting to know them since you know… you are kinda stuck with us now”

“You make it sound like a threat, moya lyubov’” Wanda laughed and you bit your lip “We don’t have to go if you don’t want us to”

You looked at them, like really looked. Their eyes were twinkling softly, their smiles didn’t waver and they kept one hand touching you as the other were linked.

They made it look like you’ve been part of them all their lives, as if they didn’t meet you the day before but like you belonged there already. And your heart melted.

Maybe you didn’t take the best choices in the past, but this felt right. They felt right. So what if you just took a leap of faith?

“Yeah, okay. Let’s do it” you smiled and leaned to kiss each one of them “and I mean all of it, if you guys still want me” you whispered shyly and Wanda caressed your cheek.

“I know a way or two to show you how much we want you” she purred and you whimpered “What do you think, Tasha?”

“Yeah, I know what you are talking about?” the redhead smirked and you moaned.

“Again?” you grunted when Wanda pushed you down in between their bodies and their lips were already on your neck.

“Again. And again after that” Natasha whispered and you bit your lip but your stomach growled and the redhead laughed.

“Or not. I guess she really is hungry” Wanda chuckled and you groaned, looking down to your abdomen.

“No, no, I’m not hungry. Come back” you whined but Wanda was already picking up the phone to order room service “She won’t let it go, will she?”

Natasha patted your thigh “You get used to it, now come back to my arms and wake me up when food is here”

And when you settled in her arms, watching Wanda reading the menu and ordering for you as Natasha kissed your shoulder and held you protectively, you knew whatever happened next it didn’t matter.

--

you hate natalie’s guts.

it’s ironic - the cheerleader hating the burnout to the core. but she is the most infuriating, blood-boiling, irking, hottest…

wait. what?

ignore that. that’s besides the point. you hate her.

and for natalie? oh… it’s mutual.

you and your airy, condescending laugh, your cheer routines perfected to the stance, one-size-too-small cheer uniform… makes her scowl. makes her bones itch. and her body heat up.

it’s been that way for as long as literally anyone could remember. jabs from either one of you, spewed in scathing venom - not once holding back the low blows, spreading rumors, and hastily scrawled permanent marker slander on bathroom stalls and underneath bleachers. how quaint.

but for each of you, there are feelings. deeply seeded, strongly kept secret feelings that both of you hold. it’s wrong – so, so wrong. but you can’t help it. the way her messy bleached hair sits on her shoulders, the messy and smudged eye makeup, her voice, her-

okaaayyyy. your mind’s going way too far. stop. she’s a girl. you can’t like her. you can’t like a girl. you have to have a boyfriend, and live the perfect, quarterback’s girl life. and natalie doesn’t fit that.

but why does your heart yearn for her? why do your ears strain to hear her voice? why do your eyes wander, hoping to see her in the hallways or even out in public? why do you eagerly volunteer to cheer for her soccer games? you’d go for her, if she wasn’t a her.

cut to tonight, some shitty party at a classmate’s house after exams. you begrudgingly went with your cheer sisters, after they begged you to go - claiming you needed to let loose and forget. if only they knew, the heart palpitations you got, the most UNloose feeling ever - when you saw natalie. 

she was with her other burnout friends, in the corner, nursing a solo cup of god only knows what. laughing, talking - in her stupid leather jacket, and stupid blonde hair, and stupid pretty face…

oh, girl. you need a fucking drink. and drink, you do.

you down shots, mixed drinks, beers… whatever you can get your hands on. intoxication riddles your blood, making everything spin and definitely loosening you up. you dance with your friends, talk, laugh – unaware of the eyes across the room, lingering on your figure.

natalie saw you when you walked in. of course she did, you were wearing next-to-nothing with your friends, hair and makeup done to perfection (like always, with you. it pisses her off). she watched you drink, dance, stumble to the bathroom giggling with your friends… scoffing and muttering shit talk to her friends about you. but in her mind? her heart? her body? she craves you. your soft touches, your kiss, your body against hers, her name falling softly from your mouth. 

oh. my. god. now she needs a drink. 

she branches from her friends, going to the kitchen. she weasels through heated, sweaty bodies to get a drink. she pours more alcohol in her cup, pour some mixer in. she turns to go walk back to her friends, taking a deep breath to steel herself-

shit.

a cold feeling courses through nat’s body as she bumps into someone, consequently spilling a drink all over nat’s front. and… it’s you. 

your body freezes when you realize you just spilled your drink on someone, immediately sobering you up. apologies leave your mouth quickly, like a flurry before you even look up to see who it is.

“what the fuck, dude?”

is what you can hear, that rasp - when you look up, it’s natalie. your apologies stop immediately, turning into a scoff.

“oh… it’s you. never mind. totally not sorry now.” you snark, giggling in that stupid, airy tone.

natalie laughs incredulously and rolls her eyes, shoving your shoulder. “what the fuck is your problem, bitch?”

“‘bitch”?! really?! at least i’m not some burnout, trashy fucking dyke-” you sneer, but you can’t even finish, before she’s yanking your arm, dragging you away.

“you callin’ me a dyke? i’ll show you a goddamn dyke. you need to clean up your mess.”

protests leave your mouth, trying to squirm out of her grasp, but she’s pretty strong - contrary to her scrawnier build. she drags you up the stairs and into a cramped bathroom. she shoves you up against the door, shrugging off her leather jacket and taking off the shirt that you spilled your drink on. 

your eyes widen, roaming over her body, now just in her black jeans and red bra. you can’t help it, you could only dream of seeing her shirtless - in your fantasies wrapped in the comfort of your bed and dominant hand. she notices, laughing mockingly.

“oh, and i’m the dyke? you’re literally eyefucking me right now.”

before you could even spit a harsh comeback, her lips are on yours. you can’t help but kiss back immediately, all “hatred” leaving your mind and being overtaken by the desire you’d been holding back for months. the kiss is hungry, desperate - sloppily bitten lips and tongue all throughout. your hands rest on her nape, while hers grip at your waist and hips, all but tugging you closer as you both consume each other’s mouths. 

as the makeout transpires, clothes get shed from you - leaving you in your bra and panties. natalie moves you to the bathroom counter without breaking the kiss, pulling you up and onto it.

at this point, you’re whining into her mouth, clawing needily at her shoulders to get her closer, and closer, and-

suddenly, her lips are off yours, and you’re being spun around, face pressed against the mirror, body still on the counter. nat pants softly in your ear to catch her breath, gripping your hair to keep your face there.

“look at you, right now. look at what a dyke can do to you. tough talk from a girl who seems to love it.” natalie murmurs, laughing. 

you can’t even bring yourself to be mad, whining instead at her mocking words, your panties soaked worse than they’ve ever been before. all from her. you whisper shakily, full of need, “nat. please. touch me…”

natalie laughs, again, shaking her head, “now she’s begging. how pathetic do you cheerleaders get, huh? your boy toys don’t do this?”

you shake your head no fervently, just trying to get her in your pants - obviously. “n-no, no-”

“shut up. god, do you seriously ever shut up?” natalie says harshly, cutting you off. she pushes your face closer to the mirror, “if you stop fucking talking, maybe i’ll fuck you.”

you quiet immediately, which makes nat laugh, muttering something about “pathetic whore”. next thing you know, her hand is on your center, running along the slit and feeling the dampness burdening the lacy fabric.

“hoooly shit, you’re soaked,” nat whispers, breathless with awe.

you flush with embarrassment, already knowing how desperate you are and look. but all the same, you move your hips on her fingers, whining needily. in response, she takes her hand away, swatting your inner thigh. “stop fuckin’ moving, or i’ll stop touching you.”

your hips still, a huff leaving your mouth. “you’re taking forever. do you really still have to be so goddamn annoying?”

natalie scoffs, and immediately sinks two fingers into you, shoving your panties to the side. you gasp and moan, eyes fluttering and jaw dropping in pleasure. nat smirks, “looks like that shut you up pretty damn good.”

the pace she has is brutal, fingers moving quick and hard - right into your g spot with every motion in. your eyes blur with tears of pure pleasure, mirror fogged up from each panted breath. your moans echo throughout the room, loud and full of obvious pleasure. nat relishes in this, how she can finally have you the way she’s always wanted to. she pulls your head back, kissing and sucking hickies onto your neck that will definitely be there tomorrow.

“nat, nat- slow down, m’gonna c-”

“no you’re not. you don’t get to. y’know how much i fucking hate you?” natalie sneers, as she adds a third finger, relentlessly pounding your cunt, “you piss me off so much. worse than anyone ever has.”

through moans and gasps, you manage a laugh, “is that why you’re fucking me?”

natalie laughs too, shaking her head, “you never shut up, huh?”

you shake your head no, moaning as she angles her fingers deeper, making your eyes roll back. that familiar band in your lower abdomen is taut, about to snap. your juices make obscene noises, echoing on the tiled floors and walls of the bathroom. you can’t take it anymore. “nat, please let me cum. please-”

“admit that you’re just as much of a dyke as i am, then.” natalie pants in your ear, a mocking smile on her lips.

you hesitate, of course you do. you can’t like girls, you can’t. but… this feels right, oddly enough. being fucked in a party bathroom, by the girl you’re supposed to hate. the guilt will come later, you know that. but right now? nat’s knuckle deep in your cunt, and you can’t think of anything better.

“i-i like girls,” you whisper, biting your lip to not moan.

“hm? what was that?” natalie taunts, speeding up her fingers - which you didn’t even think was possible.

you moan, losing all hesitance as soon as it started. “i-i like girls. i like you, i-” 

natalie hums, adding a fourth finger, and her thumb to your clit, rubbing tight circles. “good that you stopped lying to yourself. you can cum.”

moaned and breathless “thank you”s leave your mouth as quickly as she says it. you cry out as your orgasm wracks through your body, making you tremble, and eyes roll back so hard you’d think they’re stuck. natalie marvels at this sight, slowing down to work you through it as you soak her front with the force of your release. 

nat finally takes her fingers out once your loud moans are now whimpers, washing her hands in the sink. you pant heavily, slumped over on the counter, body so weak and tired from the sheer force of the sex you just had. natalie looks over, raising an eyebrow, “you good?”

you nod, standing up on shaky legs, holding onto the counter for respite, “yeah… yeah. i’m great.”

natalie hums, gently brushing the hair out of your face. she looks at you, really looks at you, a small smile quirking at her lips. “you’re so pretty.”

you smile softly back, a faint blush creeping onto your cheeks despite your already flushed state. “thanks.. uh, you are too.”

nat laughs, kissing your lips chastely once more. she helps you clean yourself up, and put your clothes back on. “need a ride home?”

“mhm,” you nod, leaning on her shoulder for stability. your legs tremble still, which she silently revels in.

“alright. let’s get your pretty ass out of here.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

– 

➛ Your situationship is purely for fun, lottie wanting to let loose instead of focus on her grades. She doesn’t like the thought of commitment early into college.

➛ Party animals fr, making out in the bathroom of a party turns on lottie so much. she loves the idea of getting caught doing something wrong.

➛ Drunk sex, she’s slurring out praises as you go down on her. She’s so dizzy from the alcohol, and she can only think about you. Messily fingers you, struggling to keep balance on her knees.

➛ Will tease you if you both have a class together, her hand on your thigh, slowly inching up to your clothed core. She loves the thought of you crumbling under her touch.

➛ Constantly at your door knocking, peeking in to see if your roommate is there. If you’re alone she’ll latch onto you, wanting to take the stress of the day out on you.

➛ Lottie loves giving hickeys, but she’ll purposefully leave them where anyone who talks to you can see. Even though she doesn’t want to commit to a relationship with you, she likes the idea of having someone all to herself.

➛ But she does hook up with other girls, ends up not liking the sex and texts you about it. But will leave you on read if you’re not happy about it.

➛ Lottie will drag her nails down your back while you’re fingering her, whimpering out your name. Whispering how good you are under her breath. The next morning she’ll act like it never happened.

➛ Smoke sessions, which ends up with you both on cloud nine and on top of each other. Messy makeout sessions, lipstick smeared on each others faces.

➛ Will be such a bitch to you when she has a hangover, ignoring you, or just being really dry. She doesn’t care, as long as you come back to her the next day.

➛ Eats you out like you’re her last supper, only when she has a real bad day. Her nails will dig into your skin, her tongue lapping your cunt. Tongue fucking you so well your toes are curling.

➛ People ask about you and she pretends either like she doesn’t know you, or that you’re just a friend. It depends on the people. Only Shauna and Laura Lee know about your situationship.

➛ Will grope you like there’s no tomorrow, she likes the feeling of your tits or ass in her hands.

➛ Knee method is ALWAYS used when she’s pushing you against a wall and kissing you, wanting you to grind on her leg, seeking pleasure.

➛ STRAP HAVER. Fucks you into her couch, slamming into your poor cunt so hard. The sound echoing down the dormitory hallway.

➛ She fingered you in the back of class once, never did it again because she can’t risk her reputation. It’s different when everyone is drunk.

➛ Would have a threesome with you and another girl, having two girls on top of her is a fantasy of lottie’s.

➛ Lowkey encourages you to get black out drunk at parties just so she can take care of you, holding your hair back when you puke, brushing your hair to make you sleep, helping you during your hangover in the morning. It boosts her ego because of how much you rely on her in those vulnerable moments.

➛ Loves having you ride her strap, she likes the thought of you getting undone around her fake dick. Thrusting up into you while you become a moaning mess.

➛ Tbh would pass you around her friends only because she trusts them not to steal you, brags about how good of a fuck you are. You’ve slept with Shauna and Nat before, Jackie definitely has hit you up too.

➛ Angry sex always ends up with you getting kicked out of her dorm at the end, she will leave you high and dry on occasions. You have to clean yourself up at the end of the night.

➛ Your situationship is definitely toxic but you both always come running back to each other.

lottie pass me around next… me next…. switching my theme up again 💔

req me!

“I want to try something new with you tonight,” Agatha murmurs, lips against your temple. You’re both on the couch, you lying between her legs, your back pressed against her front and you can feel her nipples through both your shirts. 

The television has been on while your girlfriend has been absentmindedly playing with the waistband of your pajama shorts. 

“Oh?” you hum. 

Agatha nods and pats your stomach. “I want you to fuck me with the strap.” 

Instantly, your mind goes blank and a thrill runs through you. You’ve never done that before; it’s always been you taking the toy. You’re not sure how good you’ll actually be at it. 

But you want to try. 

The thought of her cunt wrapped around the purple silicon is enough to make your clit pulse. 

“Okay,” you agree, voice suddenly raspy. 

She lets out a throaty chuckle and pushes on your shoulders so you sit up, and then moves off the couch to walk down the hall into the bedroom. You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, mouth watering. 

It’s only a moment before she comes back, holding the long purple dildo and the black harness, already attached. You stand up, as if in a trance, and Agatha gives you a wicked smile.

You take off your shirt, underwear, and shorts and she stays fully dressed while you step into the harness. She helps you adjust it so it’s comfortable and then tugs you to the bedroom, the purple length jutting from below your waist. It’s an interesting feeling, but a good one. 

“I’m a little nervous, mommy,” you admit as she begins unbuttoning her navy blue shirt, revealing more and more of the pale skin on her chest. You start to feel a little dizzy. 

Agatha pauses, her blue eyes sweeping over your naked body and flashing when they get to the toy, but then she steps closer and kisses you softly. Her hands rest on your bare shoulders and the warmth seeps right to your stomach. “You’ll be perfect, hon.” 

It reassures you a little and you nod and she resumes undressing. When she kicks off her light gray underwear, you see the darker fabric in the gusset—she’s already wet. 

She really wants this. 

You take in the supple swell of her breasts and her pebbled, rosy nipples and the small pouch of her stomach and the freckles on her arms and your breath catches in your throat. She is the most confident person you know, and yet she blushes under your heated gaze. 

“Are you ready?” she asks. Usually, when you’re about to take the toy, she has to warm you up first and get you stretched out. 

But Agatha is already wet, already turned on enough, that it’s apparently not necessary. 

“Yes,” you gasp and she smirks with a wink before walking backwards until her legs hit the bed. 

She doesn’t break eye contact as she sits and scooches back and you’re pulled to the bed by a magnet, the same one that always pulls you to her, and she lays down. You climb on your knees between her legs and your hands push her knees wider so she’s spread open. 

Her swollen pussy lips glisten in the light streaming in through the window and her folds are almost matted together. She’s been thinking about this for awhile, it would seem. You feel your own cunt clench and your hips jerk forward of their own accord. 

“Be a good girl and fuck mommy,” she grits out and it’s exhilarating to have this kind of power, even if she’s still holding most of it. 

Your fingers wrap around the toy and lean forward so the tip is pressed against her cunt. She lets out a gasp and your heart skips a beat. You part her folds with the toy and drag it up and down, slick sounds filling the room. 

She lets out a noise when you circle her clit with it and then you lightly tap it against her clit a few times just to see what’ll happen. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip and she nods breathlessly at you. 

Her fingers scramble for purchase and dig into the duvet on the bed as you position the tip at her entrance. Your stomach is twisting in a good way and you push in just an inch. 

Agatha’s eyes widen and her breath catches. You pause for a moment to give her time to adjust, watching her face carefully. 

“Can I keep going?” you ask. 

“Yes, please,” she chokes out. “Mommy needs you so bad.” 

Fog is setting over your brain and you bite your tongue to concentrate. You move slowly and her hips are bucking up, clearly impatient, but you don’t want to accidentally go too fast. 

“Come on, baby, mommy needs more,” she urges and you nod. “Fuck me like you mean it.” 

Hearing her beg like this—as much as that is begging—is making your core burn and you can feel the wetness on your thighs already. You look down to watch her lips envelope more of the toy and you momentarily lose all focus. 

Agatha growls and your eyes shoot up to lock with hers. She softens when she sees the light sheen of sweat on your face and her legs relax from where they were tensing against your hips. 

“I’m trying, mommy,” you pant out, sharply thrusting your hips into her once you bottom out inside her. She inhales roughly and grinds against you. 

“I know, honey,” she says, trying to be gentle. “You’re doing a good job. You can move faster though.”

You pull the toy out and you groan when you see how shiny the purple is now. All because of her. 

It’s hard to give her what she wants because you keep getting sidetracked with the way her tits bounce each time you thrust into her and the squelching sounds from her pussy and the pretty sounds falling from her mouth. There’s also the bumping of the toy against your own clit and fucking her like this is getting you to places you’ve never been before. 

“Fuck, baby,” she moans once you’ve finally found a pace and her hair is strewn on the bed beneath her. Her eyes are dark and her cheeks are a light pink and you stop moving again, thoroughly distracted. 

“Mommy,” you whine, “I can’t—you’re too—I don’t—” 

She knows what you mean and shushes you, her legs wrapping around you to still your body. “It’s okay, hon. I know what you need.” 

Before you can ask what she means, she pushes you off her so the toy slips out of her pussy with a pop and then sits up to push you onto the bed on your back. 

A strangled noise comes out of your mouth and the next thing you know, she climbs on top of you, positions the strap at her entrance again, and sinks down fast. The air leaves your lungs as her head drops back and she stays there for just a moment. 

“Mommy, can I—” You lift your hand to touch her but she slaps it away gently and she snaps back up to look at you while rising up until just the tip is inside her. 

“You’re just a poor little thing, aren’t you?” she coos, sickly sweet, and the degradation goes to your core just as much as the praise. “Let mommy take what she needs, okay? Just lay there and be mommy’s good little toy.”

Agatha sits back down again and grinds forward, a pornographic moan tearing from her mouth and you’re completely frozen beneath her as she starts to ride you. The toy is soaked and dripping onto your pelvis and her lips are even more swollen and you don’t think you’ll ever forget the image of her cunt stretched out around it. 

You babble something nonsensically and try to buck your hips up to help her and she screws her eyes shut. Her left hand traces up her stomach to pinch her nipple while the nails of her right hand sink into the skin on your ribs. You whimper. 

“Such a good fucking toy for mommy,” she grunts, riding you even faster now and her hair is a mess and her eyes have an unhinged look in them and you think this is the hottest she’s ever been. “Can’t do anything by yourself, can you? It’s okay, baby, I can do it for you.”

She reaches down to rub her clit and her chest heaves with the effort of breathing. 

All you can do is watch as she takes her pleasure from you, as she uses you, and you think you might be able to come just from this. 

And then…and then she leans forward to wrap a hand around your throat, just loosely, but the pressure makes your mind go absolutely empty. 

“Fuck,” you breathe, keeping your eyes on her while she switches to grinding against you because she’s getting close too. 

“Your cock feels so good,” she moans. Your hips jerk up and her lips part from the pressure. “You’re going to make mommy come.” 

“Want you to,” you gasp out desperately, trying your best to thrust into her. Her hair falls around her shoulders, framing her face, and the vein in her forehead is angrily throbbing. The flush in her cheeks has spread down to her upper chest and you reach up to tweak her nipples. 

Her rhythm falters and her head drops forward so you can’t see her eyes anymore and you’re both watching the toy being swallowed by her cunt. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chants and you swear you can feel her clenching around you. You wish more than anything that you could. 

“Are you going to come for me, mommy?” you ask and it comes out almost incoherent from her hand around your throat, but she understands. 

She huffs and looks back up at you. “Yeah, baby, mommy’s going to come all over your cock.” 

Her hand works harder between her legs, furiously rubbing your clit, and then she stiffens on top of you and then falls apart. 

Watching her come and feeling the toy bump against your own clit triggers your own orgasm and her hand around your throat tightens to make your pleasure even more intense. 

It’s a few moments before you both come down from the high and she rides you gently through the aftershocks until she stops and gets off of the toy. It shimmers in the light and you wrap your hand around it, stroking it a few times to collect her wetness, and then you lick your palm, moaning at the taste of her. 

Agatha watches with dark eyes and then leans over to kiss you hard. “Your turn,” she says. 

Well, kind of your co-worker. You’re just helping out on the side. It’s the swimming unit for the Physical Education classes at the high school you went to and you’re lifeguarding after graduating college just to make some extra cash. 

Which means getting to hang out on the pool deck with Agatha Harkness for two weeks. 

The crush sort of came out of nowhere. You’d never really thought of her in that way, and you’re not sure when things changed. 

Maybe it was when she asked you deep questions when it was just the two of you sitting there and she actually listened. Maybe it was when she teased you about trying an energy drink for the first time and getting hooked immediately and still encouraging you. Maybe it was when she told you that you were funny a few days ago. 

But you can’t stop thinking about her now and the way she tilts her sunglasses down to look at you with those bright blue eyes and the way she tosses her long dark hair over her shoulder and the way she nudges you when you say something cheeky but then smirks wickedly to dish it right back at you. 

It’s becoming a slight problem, how you always want to be with her. How the class periods that she has free just drag by and you count down the minutes until you might be able to see Agatha again. How you would do anything just to have her attention on you, even though you know logically that she’ll never like you back like that. 

But Agatha brings you an energy drink on Monday, tsking when your eyes light up and you immediately reach for it when she gives it to you in the office. 

“You are so addicted,” she sighs with a chuckle when you hand it back to her because you can’t open the can. Agatha easily pops it open, nails painted a deep red that contrasts nicely with her pale skin, and she holds eye contact as she takes a sip right from the opening of it. She’s wearing shorts that show off her long legs and a light blue shirt and you can’t stop your gaze from wandering down her body.

She gives it back to you and you try to ignore the fact that your lips are touching the spot that hers just did. 

“And yet, you’re just giving me more,” you say, grinning. “You like it.” 

Agatha snorts. “And you’re crazy.” 

You take a long swig and swish the liquid around your mouth. She watches, pupils dilating just slightly. When she looks at you like that, you think she must feel something for you. 

It looks like she’s going to say something else, but she doesn’t—she just smirks knowingly and picks up her clipboard before walking out and to the pool deck. 

This is her easiest class: not a lot of kids and they’re all strong swimmers. Which means you get to just hang out with her. 

You walk with her up and down the deck, mindlessly chatting about your weekends and how the kids are doing while swimming. Agatha’s lips quirk up each time you lift the can to your mouth and you pretend not to notice, but you can’t help laughing. 

She makes you feel so free. 

When the kids are done swimming and they have free time to play around in the pool, you and Agatha sit next to each other in chairs by the diving well. You take off your shirt, revealing your sensible one-piece just to get some sun, and you think you hear her breath hitch. 

It’s hard to ignore the warm feeling spreading through you as you feel her eyes raking over you. 

—

She walks with you up to the cafeteria during lunch and you’re hoping you can snag something to eat. 

You have a second energy drink in your hands and Agatha keeps making fun of you for it. 

“One day, your heart is going to explode,” she says while shaking her head fondly. 

Lifting the can to your lips, you smile into it before taking a short sip. “What can I say? I get addicted to things way too easily. I just can’t stop thinking about them.” 

There’s a look in Agatha’s eyes, like she knows that what you really can’t stop thinking about is her. 

The cafeteria is crowded when you get there. You open the door and hold it open for Agatha, who breezes past you with a quick “Thank you.”

It’s easier to hang back, so you do. But Agatha pushes through the crowd to get food and she comes back a few minutes later to raise an eyebrow at you. 

“Are you getting something?” 

You gesture at the line of kids standing there. 

Agatha huffs. “Go up there and get something. Do you need me to hold your hand?” 

Turning out your bottom lip mockingly into an exaggerated pout, you nod, wondering what she’ll do. 

She grabs your hand from where it was limply resting on your waist and squeezes it. “Be brave and go get some food.” 

But then Agatha drops your hand and you’re almost disappointed. You nod and she claps you on the shoulder before you push through the kids to pick up a paper plate with pasta on it.  

When you come back, she’s still waiting for you and she buys your food for you. You don’t really know why she’s being so nice but you mumble a “thank you” and she smirks before waving you along. 

A few girls from her class catch you both as you’re walking back to the office and you finish your pasta while they talk to her. After you throw your plate away, she hands you the rest of her food without saying a word to you. 

Once again, you have to pretend not to care that your mouth is eating from the same fork that hers was. 

—

You’re back on the deck with Agatha. It’s only her class in the pool—just how you like it. It means it’s just the two of you, no other coaches around. 

One of her students, a girl with light brown hair and black suit, is talking to you about boy drama she’s having, trying to stall having to get in the pool. 

Agatha laughs when you say something snarky and you try to ignore the way your clit pulses. Your hands are slightly trembling, a remnant of all the caffeine you’ve drank today, and you can feel Agatha’s eyes on you again. 

“All right, Jess, you need to go swim,” Agatha says and Jess looks at you pleadingly but you tilt your head toward her coach in agreement. 

She sighs but finally goes to jump in the pool and catches up with her friends. The air is thick with something now that she’s gone and it’s just you and Agatha. 

“How is your love life?” Agatha asks and you stiffen before trying to seem casual. You pick at your nails while she leans over the side of her chair. “Any guys?” 

That makes you snort and you turn to look at her. “I’m not really into guys,” you rasp, voice suddenly deeper. 

She picks up her sunglasses and rests them on top of her head, surveying you. Her blue eyes seem to pierce right through you, and although it’s really hot outside, you shiver. 

What is she going to say? 

All Agatha does is hum and drop her glasses back down onto her nose and you bite your lip at the silence. 

Should you continue that conversation? Tell her about your failed relationships? Ask her about her love life?

“That’s good to know,” she says finally and you stare straight ahead at the pool and hope that she thinks your flush is just from the temperature. 

—

Agatha brings you another energy drink the next morning and you think you get more of a high from her than you do from the caffeine. She’s wearing a green tank top and khaki shorts and you want to get on your knees for her. 

She opens your drink for you again and takes a sip before you can. 

It’s like she wants you to think about kissing her. Like she wants you to imagine it. 

“I hate this type of schedule,” you say. The kids have only their even class periods today, whereas yesterday, they had their odd. 

She smirks and steals the can from you again to take another sip before handing it back. Her fingers brush against yours and there’s droplets on her lip that you want to lick off. “Is it because you don’t get to see me as much?” 

It is. She only has one class out in the pool on days like this. You like the other coaches well enough, but none of them give you the rush that Agatha does. 

“Totally,” you answer sarcastically so she thinks you’re joking. 

Agatha taps your chin with a knowing look and you think she must know a lot more than she lets on. “Don’t get too bored without me.” 

“I could say the same thing to you,” you quip and are delighted when she winks at you. 

She takes a step closer to you and the air gets tighter around you. All you can think about is her leaning in and kissing you slowly. 

But she doesn’t. 

Agatha just gives you a crooked smile and walks out to get her class and you trudge to the pool deck for over an hour of boredom. 

—

“How was it?” Agatha asks when you collapse into a chair in her office after the first period of the day. You’re sweating already, even though it’s still early in the morning, and the sleeves on your shirt are rolled up, baring your shoulders. 

You groan and wipe your forehead. “Those boys are the worst. And you weren't there.” 

She laughs and it’s music to your ears. “I’ll be there next period, don’t worry.” 

It pulls a smile onto your face and she holds your stare for a second. There’s something different about the way she’s looking at you and talking to you. Like there’s a closeness now that wasn’t there before. 

Agatha doesn’t act like this with anyone else, at least not that you’ve noticed. She doesn’t share drinks casually with anyone else like she does with you. 

It has to mean something, right? 

Your hand is trembling again against the desk. No surprise after downing the drink and you can slowly feel yourself start to come down from the high. 

She abruptly slides back in her chair and stands up. You look up in surprise and she puts her hand on top of your shaky one. 

“I need something from the equipment room. Come with me?” she asks, but it’s not really a question. 

And you’d never say no anyway. 

Her office is connected to the gym and she leads you into the storage room on the other side. It’s big and filled with carts of footballs and basketballs and volleyballs and hula hoops hang on the walls and big physio balls are stacked on top of shelves. It smells musty but it doesn’t take long to adjust to it. 

Agatha walks back and forth like she’s looking for something and you don’t get in the way; you stand to the side and run your hands through the line of jump ropes hanging. 

You accidentally catch one of them with your fingertips and end up pulling about six onto the floor. 

Before even thinking about it, you sink to your knees to pick them up. 

Agatha stops in front of you and you just look up at her, dropping the ropes in your hands back onto the floor. It feels like everything goes even quieter than it was before. Can she hear you breathing? You can hear yourself and you don’t know if it’s really as ragged as you think it is. 

Her eyes are dark as she peers down at you and something just feels right about this. 

She must want you too.

She has to like you too. 

Agatha swallows, strangely and uncharacteristically affected, and reaches out to brush a strand of hair back behind your ear. It’s gentle and you almost shiver. Your mouth is watering. 

You could make her feel so good right now. Your clit pulses at the thought. 

Neither of you have moved. 

Will you just stay like this until the bell rings and then pretend that nothing happened?

But then she clears her throat and your eyes dart up to watch her lips move. “You look good like this,” she says, thick and hot and you let out a strangled gasp. 

Your hands are shaking again but it’s not because of the caffeine, it’s because of your desire. Your need. 

She sees it too and smirks. “You are addicted, aren’t you?” 

Addicted to her. 

Is that what she’s asking? 

“Yes,” you admit breathlessly and she grins wolfishly and starts to walk away. You watch her, dumbfounded, until she backs into the wall only a few feet away from where you’re still kneeling and stares expectantly at you. 

And then she hikes up her shirt and unbuttons her shorts and your eyes widen. 

“But—I—you—” you stammer, not sure why you can’t just shut up. This can't be real, this is just some hallucination or something. 

“Are you going to make me feel good?” Agatha asks nonchalantly, like she isn’t about to let you fuck her, and your world tilts on its axis. 

You whimper and nod pathetically and you don’t even care that you’re crawling across a dirty floor on your knees for her because you’d do anything for her at this point. 

How did it get to this point? 

Her thighs are soft under your quivering fingertips and you don’t care if this is a dream or if she calls this a moment of weakness or if you never get to touch her again. 

She tenses as you drag your hands up further to tease the edge of her shorts and you flick your eyes up to watch her through your eyelashes as you pull her zipper down with your teeth. Her chest flares and she reaches up to ruffle her hair with her left hand. 

When her zipper is all the way down, you find a hint of gray cotton underwear peeking through and you quietly groan to yourself. You tug on the waistband and slowly drag them down her pale legs. You can’t resist the urge and you lean in to nip at her thigh and she hisses. 

“We don’t have much time,” Agatha rasps but you move in slow motion anyway, tilting your head back up, eyes travelling up from her shorts pooled at her ankles to the damp fabric between her thighs. She says your name, a testament, maybe, to how much she wants this too. 

You could tease her; it would be payback for all the teasing she’s given you the past few days. 

But you need this as much as she does. 

Agatha lets out a small noise when you lay your hands on her thighs to spread them and you scooch closer to her. You give her one last look, just to make sure, and you only find desire on her face. 

You drag your tongue over her wet gusset and everything is changed between you forever. 

Agatha slumps against the wall and you moan unconsciously at the tangy flavor before sucking on her folds through her underwear. Her hips buck and you’re surprised by how turned on she is already. 

But you can’t talk—you can feel how much of a mess you are. 

You lick at her clit through her underwear which is now a charcoal gray color with your saliva and her wetness staining it. A thrilling high roots itself in your brain at the thought of her walking around in these the rest of the day. You hope she feels how soaked she is with every step she takes.

She gasps and her hand finds your hair. Her fingers tighten and her nails scratch against your scalp, pulling a moan from you. “Hurry up,” she grits out. There’s a longer break on days like these, but you don’t know how much time is left. 

And you’d hate to leave her unsatisfied. 

You pull back and scrape your teeth over her thigh before reaching up to pull her underwear to the side. Her wetness gets on your hand and you suck your fingers into your mouth to clean them. Her top teeth sink into her bottom lip as she stares down at you. 

And then you slowly move back to her cunt, like you’re being pulled magnetically. You breathe heavily, already craving her, and you think you die and go to heaven when you drag your flattened tongue through her folds, able to feel her this time. 

She fills your mouth and your taste buds are flooded with the best thing you’ve ever had and you close your eyes to savor her. Agatha inhales again and slides further down the wall so you’re able to get more between her legs. Your fingers are digging into her thighs and they’re not trembling anymore—you’re getting your fix right now.

Agatha gasps when you lap around her clit, teasing but not giving in just yet. She makes a muffled noise and her fingers warningly tug on your hair and you smirk against her hot center before enclosing your lips around the nub and sucking. Her eyes shoot wide and she clamps her other hand over her mouth. 

Your knees ache from the floor but it hardly even registers because you can feel her clit throbbing in your mouth and her head drops back against the wall and you know you’re doing something right. 

She keens when your tongue slides down to her entrance and then curls up inside her and her hips rock again. Your nose moves over her clit and she does her best to ride your face, as much as her position allows her to. 

Her walls clench around your tongue and more wetness leaks down the side of your face but you can’t get enough. You devour her, frantically mouthing at her pussy, and you still can’t believe this is actually happening. 

“Fuck, your mouth is so good,” she groans and you moan into her. She stiffens over you and you curl your tongue inside her again. She pulses around you. 

You say something into her cunt; it’s muffled and unintelligible and even you don’t know what you’re meaning to say. 

Agatha whimpers and pulls at your hair again when you move back to sucking at her clit. “Right there, fuck, that’s perfect,” she sighs and your tongue lashes against her. 

Her pupils have swallowed up almost all the blue in her eyes and her cheeks are a rosy pink color. The vein in her forehead that you watch throb sometimes is throbbing right now as she looks down at you. 

You’ve never felt like you belonged somewhere as much as you do right now. You could live under her desk with her cunt in your mouth and you don’t think you’d be more content anywhere else. 

Agatha’s fingers are gripping your hair so hard it’s almost painful and you relish in the fact that you’ll feel her phantom touch even after it’s gone. You’ll be sitting on the pool deck next to her, the taste of her still in your mouth, and no one will know. 

It’ll be your little secret. 

“Fuck, fuck, I’m going to come,” she groans urgently and it’s as close to begging as you’re going to get from her. 

Your teeth scrape against her clit and you dip your tongue back inside her one last time before sucking open-mouthed on her and flicking your tongue over her clit as fast as you can. Agatha throbs and her cunt is getting hotter and your nails dig deeper into her legs. 

“Oh—fuck,” she breathes and you feel her come. Her thighs tighten around your head and shake like your hands were earlier and she yanks on your hair. Her lip has to be stinging from how hard it looks like she’s biting it. 

And you just keep sucking and lapping up her wetness, drunk on her taste and feel and everything. Her noises are delicious and go straight to your own cunt and you want to make her make them over and over again. 

Her clit is still pulsing; you can feel it, and you think she might come again. She has a dazed out look in her eyes as she stares down at you and her breathing is labored. 

But she shakes her head and tugs you away from her and you reluctantly let her. You sit back on your heels, gasping, the entire bottom half of your face and nose slicked with her. 

She chuckles while she takes in the disheveled mess that she’s made you into and wipes her thumb against your chin, collecting her wetness. She holds it out to you and you eagerly suck on her, bobbing up and down to make sure you get all of it. Even after the taste is gone, you don’t stop. 

“Already addicted?” she asks, soft and teasing and this won’t be the last time this happens because you think she might be addicted too. She bends down to pull her pants and underwear back up.

You nod and there’s a smug, triumphant smirk on her face. She’s so proud and there’s a burning sensation that sears through your stomach. 

The bell rings and you’re reminded that you’re on your knees in a storage room in a high school gym and you have to go out and work. 

With Agatha. 

After she just came all over your face. 

You can still taste her and smell her and feel her. 

“Go clean up,” she orders and holds out her hand for you to take. She helps you up and your knees hurt when you bend them and she laughs when you wobble on your feet. 

She looks over your body one last time before nodding assuringly and then walks toward the door. She glances over her shoulder to make sure you’re okay and you follow her out with a foggy mind. 

You already can’t wait for the next time. 

her hands were careful on your waist, lips soft and plump against yours as she kissed you with such care, like you were something she could break so easily.

which is why she was so scared to bring it up to you.

a quiet sigh fell from between your lips as billie's hands moved down your body, grabbing your ass and squeezing a bit harsher than before. she pulled away just enough to look at you, lower lip trembling subtly.

you noticed immediately. "what's wrong, bil?"

she shook her head quickly, a nervous smile growing on her lips as she ground her hips against yours. you saw right through it, and billie knew you did.

so, when you grabbed her jaw and made her look at you, she knew she wasn't gonna be able to get off the hook easily, "please, don't think m'weird for this..."

you hadn't known what she'd been talking about until she had you beneath her, strap pounding deep and slow into your cunt from behind. her hand was palming your ass, lips on your neck as she muttered sweet nothings into your ear.

then she whispered the words. "wanna—mm... wanna spank you, ma. can—can i?" her voice was so soft, so polite.

how could you say no?

a soft, approving mewl from between your lips gave her all the answers she needed. her slaps started off soft, barely phasing you. but, when you started pushing your hips back against her strap, her hand started to get rougher and rougher.

"harder," you moaned against the pillow, and billie nearly laughed—how you were the same sweet, innocent girl she tripped over in your café a few months ago?

she complied. her palm started to land harder on your ass, a red imprint of her hand slowly starting to show. her hips started to stutter, head spinning at how much you really enjoyed this.

"d'you like it when i spank you?" she asks breathlessly, rubbing over the mark and soothing your skin before she spanked you again. harder this time.

you moaned a string of "yes," and "keep going," in response, voice muffled against the pillows. hands gripping at the sheets and hips pushing back against billie's strap, your orgasm approaching quickly.

you were all just girls before this. so, what are you now?

you find yourself asking this same question over and over again. constantly racking through your brain how you’ve all become so unapologetically mad, and cruel. if what you’ve done has crossed some invisible line of morality that you can no longer go back. if you can even go back.

shauna still kisses you with a fire you’ve never known before. something you’re sure would have never existed to you had you ever been on that plane. she touches you like she’s never been more sure of something in her whole life.

like, she’s never actually existed until now. as if being out here is the best thing that could have happened to some of you.

you hate to say that there’s some truth in that. in some twisted and haunted way.

when she decided that everyone must stay behind, instead of accepting rescue, she left no room for argument. you watched in disbelief, the grief slowly flowing through you as it’s decided that, no, you won’t go home. not today.

shauna finds you crying in front of the small lake, just a few hours later.

she pulls you in as if she isn’t the reason why you’re hurting. she kisses all your tears away, shushes you, tells you it’s okay. it isn’t.

“we can’t go back, baby,” she whispers into your hair. her words make you cry even harder into the warmth of her neck. “we’re better off here,” you think, maybe that’s okay.

maybe it is fine. because truly, something this ugly, this violent, and beautiful doesn’t belong in the world out there, anyway. that maybe the wilderness is where you’re meant to be.

because even if you’re scared to admit it to yourself, a world outside of this place is just a thin guise you’re all pretending isn’t close to cracking.

and you love her. you love shauna. every dangerous, violent, grief-ridden side of her. you’ve seen her kill, seen the way she doesn’t even flinch at the sight of barbarity anymore. she smiles at it instead.

she’s kissed you with the blood of others on her lips, and you loved the taste of it. she’s handed you her blade and led you through skinning the fur off of animals you’d later eat. you’d see the way her eyes would gleam at the sight of your innocence being continuously stripped away. she loves that she’s the reason for how you unravel.

you used to only be able to cut through meat with your eyes closed. used to cover your ears so you wouldn’t hear a deer cry as it took its last breath. only able to feel the way the muscles spasm beneath your fingers. you never looked, never listened.

now, your hand no longer shakes at the weight of her knife in your hands. now, you meet shauna’s eyes as blood pools out.

but you still let out shaky breaths when she licks the blood off your fingers.

“you’re getting better and better,” she murmurs, taking the blade from your hands and finishing off the dead carcass in front of you. “i’m proud.”

you smile at her words.

you were all just girls before. you know that. you think you’re something more now. maybe worse. you don’t know. you don’t really care.

because you’re feral, you’re violent, you’re messy, but you’re loved.

and shauna loves you in ways that couldn’t exist back home.

she loves you roughly, madly, and on purpose. like everything only exists for both of you. like you’re the only thing that exists to her.

and that version of you that existed before her? the one before the crash. she’s gone now.

sometimes you hate her for it. but you love her for it more.

because being with shauna feels like you’re finally real. and whatever is left of you is hers.

even now, as you watch with your mouth agape, natalie is forced to slash open the corpse of your dead friend. mari. you’re scared. grief-stricken. you want to cry. but you want to feel shauna’s cold hands in yours more.

she watches as you stare at the way mari’s blood pools onto the snow-covered ground. you’re breath is shaky.

she doesn’t say anything. she wears a proud smile and lets you exist in the moment instead.

later, when she’s in her antler queen cloak and has finished leading everyone through a feast, she catches your wrist as you return to camp.

“say something,” you think she’s pleading for it. like she wants the reassurance that this is what she’s like now, and if you still want her this way. it hits you all then. mari. your teammate. your friend. is dead. and you ate her.

the hot tears in your eyes feel good against the cold of the air. you still don’t say anything. shauna lunges forward and kisses you. your eyes well up again at the taste of iron and meat on her lips.

her hand grips the back of your neck, her fingers tighten in your hair. she pulls back again, breathless, eyes wide and blown.

“this is the only way love can exist for me,” she breathes. “can you live with that?”

you nod. and kiss her back again. all teeth and bite.

shauna leads you back to your hut, and you let her stake her claim. she deserves it, after all. she’s your queen now.

you let her press you into your cot on the floor.

she drinks in your sighs, and you feel your body burn up at having her breathless on top of you.

you give her exactly what she wants when you feel her fingers press crescents into the inside of your thighs.

you spread yourself, soft and obedient, not because she asks you to or because she expects it, but because you want to.

and you smile at her sadisticness when she bites down on your neck, and praises you when you let out sounds for her. you revel in the feel of her. you try to ignore the biting cold just beyond the thin fur that covers the entrance.

it’s easy to when every time she touches you it burns. and it feels fucking amazing.

you gasp when she gets down to that spot right at the apex of your thighs. you try to trap her there. like if you close your thighs, maybe she’d listen.

she does. thank god, she does.

she laughs at your neediness. and pulls you open wider, rougher. like you’re hers to claim, to shape, to ruin.

“i love you like this,” she says fondly. you think, i do too.

you whimper immediately when her mouth finds you. it’s obscene the way you buck into her, the way you ground yourself by threading your fingers into her tangled hair.

there’s only her now. her mouth. her hands. the burn of her name caught in your throat as she pushes you closer and closer to unraveling.

she holds you steady when you start to shake, groaning into you like she’s starving and you’re her salvation. like you’re the last good thing left in this godforsaken wilderness, and she intends to consume every part of you.

then, just as you’re about to, she replaces her mouth with her fingers. and pushes her lips towards yours as she swallows your moans.

“you know, if you died out here,” she pants against your lips. “i’d eat your heart first.”

maybe you should be scared, or turned off at the kind of joke she’d make in such a crude moment, with her hands between your legs. but you’re too gone to care. too blissed out. even if you know she means it.

“you’d keep it safe?”

she smiles wicked and beautifully. the kind of smile you know you’d never forget. the kind of smile that brings you that much closer to the edge. “i’d keep it in me forever.”

and at her words, at the terrible truth in them, you let out one final shriek. your body arches, and you let out a silent scream, anchoring yourself on shauna’s shoulders.

she watches you with that same look she wears whenever she’s cutting into flesh and meat. the one that’s all teeth and grin. you hear the trees start to howl, the cold starts to bite, but she still doesn’t move. she’s still inside you, palm pressed to your chest.