Chapter Text
The air was thick with the lingering heat of spring, an unnatural warmth that clung to the skin despite the occasional whisper of wind. The breeze howled through the trees, rustling leaves of gold, amber, and deep green, their colors painting the landscape in breathtaking hues. The scent of pine and oak mingled in the air, rich and earthy, grounding the forest in something primal. Birds called overhead, their songs sharp against the otherwise tranquil silence, but even they felt distant, like echoes of a world that had long since forgotten peace.
By the stream, a lone figure stood, bare and bathed in the dappled light of the afternoon sun. Shauna Shipman.
Frustration rolled off her in waves, tightening her jaw, setting her shoulders stiff as she moved with quick, irritated strokes. Her skin glistened with water, droplets tracing lazy paths down the curve of her breasts, swollen and heavy from the weight of everything she carried. The makeshift soap, a product of Misty’s obsessive tinkering, lathered against her skin in thick, white streaks. It had taken weeks—months even—of failed attempts, of botched batches that smelled of rancid lard or crumbled to nothing, but eventually, they had something that worked. The crude bar foamed under Shauna’s touch, sliding over her collarbones, down the swell of her stomach, over the powerful thickness of her thighs.
The cool water lapped at her feet, offering little relief from the heat suffocating her from within.
Her hands moved automatically, scrubbing away dirt, sweat—rage. It sat coiled beneath her skin, simmering just below the surface, a restless, ugly thing that refused to be soothed. She dug her fingers into her flesh, her motions turning rough, as though she could strip herself clean of the resentment taking root in her chest.
Misty was an incessant fucking annoyance, always hovering around Natalie like some deranged pet desperate for scraps of affection.
Lottie, with her unsettling reverence, treated Natalie like she was some divine, otherworldly savior, as if every word from her mouth was gospel.
Van and Taissa clearly didn’t want Natalie in charge, but they were too spineless, too afraid of what it meant to challenge her.
And Shauna—Shauna was left watching it all unfold, teeth grinding together as the frustration built into something insurmountable.
She lost Jackie.
She lost her baby.
And now, it was all boiling over.
The grief, the anger, the resentment—it clawed at her, growing sharp and unbearable. It wasn’t fair. She had given so much, endured so much, and yet Natalie—Natalie was the one they crowned. The one they followed without question. And for what? What did she do?
Shauna scrubbed harder, her hands dragging down her stomach, over the smooth flesh between her thighs. She was lucky, at least in one thing—her body had never been prone to thick hair, unlike the others who grumbled about their own struggles. A small blessing. But it did little to soothe the fire twisting inside her, did nothing to stop the venom curling her lips.
She scoffed under her breath, her mind spiraling into the same bitter thoughts.
Natalie was reckless. She was crass, impulsive, self-destructive. A leader? Hardly.
And yet—
Shauna’s fingers slowed.
Her thoughts, venomous as they were, betrayed her.
Because despite everything, her mind painted a different picture. The sharp angles of Natalie’s face, the way the sun kissed the bridge of her nose, the way her muscles flexed when she moved, the effortless strength in the way she carried herself. Those hazel eyes, sharp and burning, filled with something raw, something untamed.
Shauna’s breath hitched, the anger curdling into something else. Something just as dangerous.
Her fingers slipped lower.
It wasn’t admiration. It wasn’t.
And yet, as her thoughts tangled between resentment and something deeper, something darker—her body betrayed her, her own touch no longer just a method of cleaning, but an outlet for the storm inside her.
Her lips parted, a shaky breath slipping free as the water lapped around her ankles, her movements turning slow, deliberate.
Shauna hated Natalie.
Didn’t she?
Her fingers plunged deep, no hesitation, no tenderness—just raw, unfiltered aggression fueling every brutal thrust. The cool water did nothing to douse the fire raging beneath her skin, the heat coiling, twisting, consuming her from the inside out. Shauna’s breath hitched, her body jerking as she pushed harder, deeper, chasing something just out of reach.
She wasn’t soft with herself—she didn’t deserve that. This wasn’t about pleasure. This was about power.
Her teeth clenched, a low, guttural sound spilling from her throat as she fucked herself with a force that bordered on violence. Her legs trembled, her thighs quivering as wetness slicked her fingers, coating her knuckles in something thick and undeniable. The water sloshed against her calves, but she barely noticed—too lost in the storm of fury, of need, of something twisted and dark, something that tasted like resentment but felt like worship.
Because it wasn’t admiration. It wasn’t.
And yet, the image of Natalie burned behind her eyelids, haunting her like a fucking ghost. Those sharp, knowing eyes. That cocky smirk, the way she carried herself like she belonged at the top, like she was untouchable.
But she wasn’t.
Shauna’s free hand snapped up, gripping her own breast with bruising force, nails digging into soft flesh as she twisted, as she punished herself for the way her body responded to the thought of her.
Natalie didn’t deserve to lead. She wasn’t meant to be worshipped.
Shauna would put that bitch in her place.
She would have Natalie beneath her, kneeling, her body writhing under Shauna’s control. She would tear her down, break her apart piece by piece, make her beg. Shauna would be the one in charge, the one calling the shots, the one Natalie would have no choice but to obey.
Her thighs clenched, the tension winding impossibly tight, her fingers moving faster, harder, plunging deep enough to make her vision blur. Her stomach tensed, her breath hitched, and then—
Release tore through her like a violent storm, her body shuddering as her climax gushed a thick, milky white discharge coated her fingers, dripping down her thighs in slick, messy trails, a testament to how deep the fire inside her burned.
And yet, it wasn’t enough.
Her pussy ached—hot, swollen, pulsing with the same searing intensity as her fury. The oversensitivity made every movement agonizing, but she reveled in it, embraced the rawness, the sting, the reminder that she was alive. That she was still fighting.
She yanked her fingers free with a wet, obscene sound, her breath ragged, her thighs trembling from the force of what she had done. Without hesitation, without shame, she brought her slick-coated fingers to her lips and licked them clean, rough and unyielding. The taste was sharp, bitter with anger, with need, with something unspoken that coiled deep in her gut.
Her tongue flicked over her knuckles, dragging slowly, deliberately, as her mind refused to let go of the image seared into it—Natalie beneath her, broken, hers.
Shauna exhaled, long and slow, her body still burning, still wanting.
Because it wasn’t enough.
She would make Natalie submit.
Shauna Shipman was the one who should lead.
And she would prove it.
---
The sun was dipping behind the jagged treetops, casting long, bleeding streaks of gold and crimson across the sky. The warmth of the day still clung to the air, thick and heavy, but the creeping evening chill threatened to settle in soon. Shauna felt it against her damp skin as she pulled her clothes back on, her body still thrumming with the aftershocks of earlier. She felt better, in a way. Not satisfied—never satisfied—but at least the edge had dulled enough for her to focus.
Dinner would be served soon.
Like always, Shauna had a job to do.
The fresh kill from earlier that morning was sprawled across the butcher’s station, a large deer that Natalie had brought down—like always. And like always, it was Shauna’s job to butcher it, carve it down into something useful while Natalie sat by the fire, basking in the attention of their little fucked-up kingdom. Everyone hovered around her, drinking up her words, clinging to her presence like she was something divine. It was disgusting.
It was annoying.
Shauna clenched her jaw as she set to work, knife in hand, slicing deep into the deer’s thick hide. The blade dragged through fur and flesh, parting muscle with a wet, sickening sound. She made quick work of the outer layer, peeling the skin back in long, careful sheets, revealing the raw red beneath. Blood oozed from the exposed tissue, sticky and warm, clinging to her fingers as she worked with precise, practiced motions.
She found the tendons next, those stubborn cords that held everything together, and severed them with swift, ruthless strokes. They snapped apart with quiet, visceral twangs, the resistance giving way to her unrelenting grip. She knew this body—knew how it worked, how to dismantle it piece by piece.
The fat was next, a thick, waxy layer beneath the skin. She carved it away, peeling it back in ribbons, exposing the dark, marbled meat underneath. The scent of iron filled the air, rich and unmistakable, mingling with the faint traces of pine and smoke from the fire. The carcass was still warm—Natalie’s kill was fresh, and Shauna felt that bitterness settle deep, coiling in her gut like bile.
Natalie killed the deer.
And Shauna butchered it.
Like some obedient little housewife, like some servant, while Natalie sat by the fire, legs stretched out, everyone fawning over her like she was some untouchable fucking god.
Shauna’s grip tightened around the knife as she divided the cuts, separating the best portions from the scraps, laying them out in careful, clean sections. Blood coated her hands, warm and thick, seeping into the cracks of her skin, staining beneath her nails. The feeling should have repulsed her. Instead, it felt grounding.
Beside her, Melissa lingered.
Now that was a different story.
Melissa—sweet, eager, desperate Melissa.
Shauna didn’t even know how it started, but in the last five days, they’d fucked at least ten times. Secretly, but not so secretly. The others knew, could see it plain as day in the way Melissa stuck to her side like a lovesick shadow, practically vibrating at any sliver of attention Shauna gave her. It was amusing. It was pathetic. It made Shauna feel superior.
The same way Misty was to Natalie.
The difference? Natalie was annoyed by Misty’s obsession, brushing her off even as she basked in the attention. Shauna? She liked it.
She thrived on it.
The warmth of Melissa’s body pressed close as she reached to take the prepared cuts, her fingers brushing against Shauna’s slick, blood-coated hands. Melissa hesitated, eyes flickering up, waiting, hoping for something—anything.
Shauna let her linger. Let her want.
Then, as Melissa took the meat and stepped back, Shauna smirked.
"Be a good girl." Her voice was low, dripping with amusement, with something darker, something promising. "Or you won’t get any tonight."
Melissa’s breath caught, her pupils blown wide.
She swallowed hard, nodded. “Okay.”
She turned, moving toward the cooking station, but not before another lingering glance, not before another brush of her fingers against Shauna’s, as if she couldn’t help herself.
Shauna exhaled, smirk still tugging at her lips.
Tonight, she would remind Melissa why she came crawling back.
And maybe, just maybe—she would stop pretending that Natalie wasn’t the only one she really wanted beneath her.
---
The fire crackled, embers spitting into the cooling night air as the scent of seared meat and simmering stew filled the space between them. The deer had been butchered, the blood washed from Shauna’s hands, but the bitterness still clung to her like smoke, curling in her chest, fueling her.
The stew was rich, thick with chunks of venison and wild vegetables scavenged from the woods—roots, berries, greens that Akilah swore wouldn’t kill them. It was the closest thing to a real meal they had in weeks, and yet, Shauna hardly tasted it as she sat by the fire, her gaze cutting across the flickering light.
Natalie sat opposite her, stretched out in that effortless way of hers, exuding that quiet, infuriating confidence that made Shauna’s teeth grind. She didn’t even try, and yet the others gravitated toward her, their queen, their fucking savior.
Shauna inhaled, slow and measured, before turning her attention to an easier target.
Mari.
It started small. A sharp comment here, a mocking scoff there, needling at the girl’s nerves, waiting for her to snap. Shauna could feel the tension rising, see the frustration creeping into Mari’s posture as she picked at her food, shoulders stiff, jaw clenched.
"Wow, Mari, you really gonna eat that much?" Shauna mused, tilting her head, voice lilting with false sweetness. "Didn’t realize we had that much to spare."
Mari shot her a glare. "Oh, fuck off, Shauna."
Van snorted into her stew, amused but not intervening. Taissa shot Shauna a look but said nothing, just shaking her head like she was already exhausted.
"I’m just saying," Shauna continued, nudging a piece of meat with her spoon, "we all work hard around here, don’t we? Wouldn’t want to waste anything."
"Waste?" Mari snapped, her voice sharpening. "I do my share."
"Sure," Shauna drawled. "If talking counts."
Lottie shifted beside Natalie, glancing between them with mild interest, but she wasn’t stopping it. No one was.
And Natalie?
She was watching.
Shauna’s pulse quickened, a thrill winding through her ribs as she met Natalie’s gaze across the fire. The blonde was unreadable, fingers drumming lazily against her knee, but Shauna could feel it—she was testing her. Baiting her. Seeing just how far she’d let this go.
Misty, ever the chaos addict, was grinning, her gaze darting between them like she was waiting for blood.
"You talk a big game, Mari," Shauna pushed, watching her grip tighten around her bowl, "but you don’t actually do anything. Unless whining counts as survival skills."
Mari slammed her bowl down, stew sloshing over the rim. "You wanna say that again, bitch?"
A flicker of movement.
Natalie leaned forward slightly, just enough for Shauna to notice, just enough to remind her that she was there, that she was listening.
Shauna smirked.
She had Natalie’s attention.
Good.
Shauna’s smirk stretched wider as Mari’s face twisted with barely contained rage, her fists clenching at her sides. Good—let her boil over. Let her snap.
"What’s the matter, Mari?" Shauna taunted, leaning forward, her voice saccharine with mock concern. "Gonna cry? Maybe go complain to Natalie like you always do? Oh wait, no—she doesn’t even fucking listen to you."
Mari’s eyes darkened, her lip curling. "At least I don’t sit around acting like I’m better than everyone when all I ever do is bitch and moan. You think you’re some queen, Shauna? You’re just a miserable little control freak who can’t stand not being the center of attention."
The words struck a nerve, but Shauna didn’t let it show. Instead, she laughed, sharp and cutting. "That’s rich coming from you. The only thing you’re good at is running your mouth and fucking up basic shit. You couldn’t even start a fire last week without Misty helping you—Misty, Mari. The girl who probably gets off on gutting rats."
Mari shot to her feet, her face burning red, stew dripping down her wrist where it had sloshed from her bowl. "Say that again, you fucking bitch."
Taissa, who had been sitting quietly until now, finally turned to Natalie, giving her a pointed look. "Aren’t you gonna say something?"
Natalie hesitated. She was watching, waiting, measuring.
Then, with a sigh, she leaned back on her hands. "Mari, sit down."
Mari hesitated, her shoulders still heaving with barely contained rage. But Shauna wasn’t about to let her off that easy.
She stood, slow and deliberate, her eyes locked onto Mari’s.
The fire crackled between them, its flickering glow casting sharp shadows across their faces.
Natalie exhaled sharply, shifting again. "Shauna, sit the fuck down."
"Yeah, sit down!" Mari repeated.
But Shauna ignored her, tilting her head at Mari with a sneer. "Make me, bitch."
And that was it.
Mari lunged first, a blur of rage and instinct, swinging wildly. Shauna ducked the first blow, but the second caught her shoulder, knocking her off balance. The world tilted as Mari’s weight crashed into her, and then they were down, rolling across the dirt, all sharp nails and frenzied fists.
Shauna barely registered the pain at first, too caught up in the raw, animalistic thrill of it. Mari’s fingers clawed at her face, nails raking down her cheek, and Shauna felt the burn of skin breaking, blood rising to the surface. She snarled, her knee jerking up, slamming into Mari’s ribs. The girl gasped, but she didn’t fall back. Instead, she drove her fist into Shauna’s face—hard.
A sickening crack.
Pain exploded across Shauna’s nose, hot and blinding, blood spurting immediately as the impact sent her head snapping back. The taste of copper flooded her mouth, thick and metallic, but she laughed, wiping at the blood with the back of her hand before lunging again.
Mari wasn’t fast enough this time.
Shauna tackled her, sending them both tumbling into the dirt again. She grabbed a fistful of Mari’s hair and yanked, slamming her head against the ground. A choked cry ripped from Mari’s throat, but Shauna didn’t stop. She cocked her arm back and—
"Enough!"
Hands grabbed at her from all sides, yanking her away, dragging her back. Shauna thrashed, spitting blood onto the dirt as Van and Travis struggled to hold her in place. Mari was in a similar state, being restrained by Taissa and Gen, her lip split open, swollen and dripping red onto her chin.
Natalie was on her feet now. And she was pissed.
"Back to your shelters. Now," she snapped, her voice sharp and commanding.
Mari huffed, pushing away from Taissa’s grip, still seething, but she knew better than to push her luck now. With one last glare at Shauna, she turned on her heel and stormed off, wiping at the blood streaking down her chin.
Shauna wasn’t done.
She shoved against Van’s grip, trying to lunge after Mari again, but suddenly—
Natalie was there.
Standing right in front of her, blocking her path, solid and unmoving.
Shauna barely had a second to register it before she lashed out, shoving at Natalie’s shoulder. "Get the fuck out of my way."
But Natalie didn’t even stumble.
Before Shauna could react, something shifted—Natalie moved, fast, fluid—
And then Shauna was down.
Flat on her back, the breath punched from her lungs, the world tilting as she stared up at the darkening sky.
What the fuck—
Pain radiated through her spine where she’d hit the ground, but her fury overpowered it. Shauna sat up fast, wiping the blood from her nose as she locked eyes with Natalie, something feral burning behind her gaze.
Natalie stood above her, relaxed but ready, hands at her sides, her head tilted just slightly.
Daring her.
Shauna’s pulse thundered.
She was going to make her submit.
Shauna was already moving before she could think, lunging forward, trying to grab at Natalie, trying to take something back. But Natalie was faster, stronger, and more in control.
Their bodies collided, and they hit the ground hard, rolling in the dirt, limbs tangling as Shauna fought to regain the upper hand. She shoved against Natalie’s shoulders, tried to twist free, but Natalie held firm, her grip like iron, her body shifting seamlessly with Shauna’s movements.
Shauna growled, wrenching a hand free, going for Natalie’s hair, her throat—something—but Natalie reacted instantly, catching her wrist midair and slamming it down against the dirt.
And then—
Shauna was pinned.
Her wrists locked above her head, Natalie’s body pressing down against her, their legs tangled, muscles straining as they both panted, breath hot against each other’s skin.
"Enough," Natalie snapped, her voice rough, low, vibrating through the space between them. "Stop."
But Shauna barely heard her.
Because she felt it.
Hard. Thick. The unmistakable press of something against her stomach, straining through the fabric of Natalie’s shorts.
The realization hit her like a shock to the spine.
She knew—of course, she fucking knew—but feeling it like this? Natalie’s cock, pulsing, big, hard, right there against her—
Shauna’s breath hitched.
And the others saw.
Lottie dropped to her knees beside them, her voice edged with urgency. “Shauna, stop. Just let it go.”
Van stepped in next, crouching close. “She’s right, Shauna. Just—” She trailed off, eyes flickering downward.
Misty’s voice cut through the tense silence. "Uh, Natalie…your, um—" She gestured awkwardly, looking somewhere between fascinated and mortified.
Natalie’s brows furrowed, her grip still tight on Shauna’s wrists—until her own body betrayed her.
Her eyes widened.
The heat on her face deepened to a full flush, and she jolted back, her hands releasing Shauna like she’d been burned.
Shauna felt the loss of contact immediately.
Natalie scrambled to her feet, yanking her shirt lower, turning away as fast as possible. "Fuck off," she muttered, voice rough with embarrassment as she stomped toward the tree line, hands covering the telltale bulge straining against her shorts.
Shauna sat up slowly, watching her go, still catching her breath, body thrumming with something wrong, something off.
And yet—
It felt like a victory.
The air was still thick with tension, the embers of the fight still smoldering in the silence Natalie left behind. Shauna sat there, licking the blood from her lip, her smirk unwavering as she let the moment sink in.
Then—
"Damn," Van muttered under her breath, low and amused, a smirk tugging at her lips. She let out a sharp whistle, shaking her head. "No wonder she walks around like she owns the place."
Misty shot her a look before elbowing her hard in the ribs. "That’s not funny."
"Come on," Van grinned, rubbing her arm. "Did you see that thing? Poor girl probably has to strap it down just to walk straight."
Taissa groaned, rolling her eyes before smacking Van’s shoulder. "Don’t be an asshole."
Mari, despite the split lip and bruising anger still burning in her chest, let out a scoff. "Why don’t you just ask Lottie?"
Lottie, who had been kneeling beside Shauna, froze.
Mari smirked through the pain, wiping the blood from her chin with the back of her hand. "I mean, she and Travis were both fucking Natalie before winter, right?"
Travis exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes as he shoved himself up. "Jesus, Mari, shut the fuck up." He stalked off toward his shelter, shaking his head, leaving the others still buzzing with the weight of her words.
Shauna felt Lottie stiffen beside her, her jaw tightening as she turned to Mari with a glare. But she didn’t deny it.
Instead, Lottie sighed, shaking her head, before offering a hand to Shauna.
"Please," she murmured, voice quieter now, more tired than anything. "Stop trying to antagonize Natalie."
Shauna huffed but took Lottie’s hand, letting herself be pulled up.
"Why?" Shauna asked, her smirk never quite fading. "She takes it so well."
Melissa was at her side in an instant, concern clear in her eyes, her hand brushing against Shauna’s arm like she was afraid she might break.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly, ignoring the conversation entirely, too focused on Shauna like always.
But Shauna barely looked at her, barely registered her, her mind still elsewhere.
Still on Natalie.
Still on what she felt pressed against her.
Because if the size of that bulge was anything to go by—
"How big do you think it is?" Gen piped up suddenly, breaking the silence, her brows raised in genuine curiosity.
Robin snorted, shaking her head. "Jesus, Gen—"
"What?" Gen shrugged, smirking. "I mean, damn. If that thing’s swinging like that when she’s not trying, imagine when she is."
Van let out another low whistle, leaning back on her hands. "No wonder Misty practically worships her."
Misty, for once, looked flustered, waving her hands. "That’s not—I don’t—" She groaned, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.
Mari, still bitter, let out a sharp exhale. "Not just Misty. Lottie too."
Lottie didn’t dignify it with a response, just turned away, rubbing her temple.
But Shauna?
Shauna stayed quiet.
Because she knew what she felt. Knew how thick and hard Natalie had been.
And now?
Now, she needed to know more.