Chapter Text
Shauna hates them. All of them. With their prayers and their offerings and their festivals - a Summer Solstice? Seriously?
She’s journalling, trying her best to tune out her surroundings as Van recites a dramatic reading of their time since the plane crash, treating everything that's happened as if it’s a work of fiction, as if they're heroes in some tragic tale, as if they hadn’t fucking eaten their team captain and a literal child. As if they hadn’t all watched Shauna’s son come out of her without a single breath. Hadn’t looked at her with a mixture of pity and heartbreak as she desperately asked them why they couldn’t hear him crying. Now it’s all one big fairytale to them. Jackie and her son are just characters in a book.
Her grief? Nonexistent. Fictional. She’s nothing more than a character herself.
Her pencil presses harder on the paper as she hears Tai joke about building the huts, hears the others laugh. The fucking audacity of them all, to act like she's the one with something wrong with her, when they're the ones laughing about things that almost killed them. They're the ones ignoring the weeks of labour, the fact that a few of them had almost frozen in the snow, that others nearly wasted away when the imbalance between their ingoing nutrition and outgoing energy went too far. Lottie and Akilah were hit hardest - she’s not entirely convinced they weren’t on a hunger strike, of sorts, as both refused food for days on end, insisting it was given to others who ‘needed it more’.
She's not sure how they managed to pull it off; their camp looks like a small village, branches woven together with vines to form individual huts, divided between them. She doesn’t actually know most of the sleeping arrangements - all she cared about was that she got her own space. They’d each built their own beds - which means that Shauna’s, and Tai and Van's, are slightly more elaborate. Hers is slightly elevated from the floor, having lined up some of the thicker logs they brought back, with a mattress made out of some of the cushions from the plane seating, something Taissa had been particularly pissed off about.
"You can't fucking take them all, Shauna." She hears Taissa behind her, Van following closely behind like a loyal dog.
"Oh yeah?" She steps up, folding her arms. "Who's gonna stop me?"
They stare at each other; a stand-off. Broken when Mari pushes past them both, grabbing two of the cushions for herself.
"Get out," Shauna growls.
Mari ignores her.
"I said get out!" She raises her voice as she tackles Mari onto the unfinished bed, hands around her throat, squeezing. She could do it. Right here, in front of everyone. Finally fucking kill her. But then Mari's lips turn up in a smile, and the shock of it causes Shauna's rage to break just long enough for Tai to pull her off, pushing her into the wall of her hut.
"What the fuck, Shauna!"
She doesn't respond; eyes focused on Mari, sitting on her bed, panting for breath as she holds her throat. Still fucking smiling.
If she's honest, she fantasizes about killing Tai more than she wants to - probably couldn’t go through with it, not with Tai, but part of her needs Van to feel the pain she feels. She needs to see if Van will turn her own grief into a tragic tale, a form of entertainment, something to be recounted alongside jokes and costumes, or if that is a privilege reserved solely for Shauna’s. Not a single one of them dares to breathe a word of Jackie or her son directly to her, but they have the audacity to participate in these festivals, in Lottie’s rituals for them. No one ever asked for her permission. The Wilderness has taken a lot from them; but her teammates are the ones that have taken away her ability to feel, to grieve.
From her hut, she can see the look of wonder as Van continues, their eyes crinkle as they laugh at her jokes. She can see Mari, watching. Always fucking watching her. As if she’s studying everything that makes Shauna tick, documenting the things that piss her off the most to use them again. It’s like she dedicates all of her fucking mental energy to torturing her. When she catches Shauna’s eye, she takes the opportunity to do the thing that she knows angers her the most.
She smiles.
If they were still in the cabin, Shauna would have lit it on fire herself.
-
Mari can see Shauna brooding in her hut. The crease of her brows as she focuses on her writing, the force with which her pencil meets paper. She's been watching her for a while, noting the way that whenever she laughs Shauna’s grip tightens, the way she breathes slightly heavier, her nose twitches.
Back on the field, she used to think it was kind of cute, the way Shauna’s nose twitches when she's angry. Sometimes she would say something she knew would piss her off just to see it happen. Pissing Shauna off is different now, she knows there’s a real chance Shauna could hurt her, but there’s something so intoxicating about the risk. Maybe that’s why she makes sure to cheer a little louder than the others when Van finishes her performance.
Behind them, she hears Shauna’s journal slam shut, startling a few of the girls - but she can’t help but smile as Shauna meets her eyes with a look of pure hatred, before pulling the tarp over the entrance to her hut, sealing herself inside.
-
Shauna lies in her sleeping bag, twirling her knife in her hands. She can still hear the girls outside, but at least she can’t see that fucking smile anymore. She was so close to walking over there and driving her knife right into Mari’s chest. She thinks about the way it would feel as she pierced her skin, sank into her flesh, the look on her face as it dawned on her what was happening. She wouldn’t be fucking smiling then.
-
She’s startled by the sound of her tarp being opened as someone slips inside. Yellow hoodie.
“Get out,” Her voice is low, almost a growl, as she stands up, raising her knife. Mari turns with a smile.
“Or what, Shauna? You’ll choke me again?" She steps forward, her eyes drifting to the knife, "Stab me?”
“Fucking try me.”
“Okay,” Mari shrugs, stepping closer, “Do it then.”
Shauna stares as Mari walks into her knife, the tip against her chest, right where she had been imagining it moments before.
I s she insane?
Her breath hitches in her throat as her eyes move from the knife to Mari’s. How the fuck is she so calm with a knife to her chest?
Mari raises an eyebrow as if in challenge, prompting her to push the knife further, tearing the hoodie slightly.
Something’s wrong, but she isn’t sure what. It feels almost like the knife is against her own chest rather than Mari’s.
The two girls stare at each other, Shauna’s chest heaving, Mari’s rising and falling so calmly that it infuriates her.
Why isn’t she scared? Does she not think that she's capable of hurting her?
At that thought, she tightens her grip and swiftly manoeuvres the knife towards the floor, tearing the hoodie; a threat, proof of how easily she could tear through skin. But Mari’s expression doesn’t waver.
And then she smiles. She fucking smiles. The knife moves back to its spot on Mari’s chest, meeting no resistance. Just skin.
“Are you-” She doesn’t get to finish her sentence. In what feels like less than a second, Mari grabs the knife from her and pushes her, causing her to fall back on the bed. For a brief moment, Mari’s eyes widen, as if shocked by her own actions, but almost as fast as the look appears she's composed herself and straddled Shauna, holding the knife to her throat.
Shauna doesn’t know what to do. She can’t think straight. Just a moment ago, she had Mari exactly where she wanted her, she was so close to watching the life drain out of her eyes, and now Mari is straddling her. With a knife to her throat. She didn’t think she had It in her.
Something drips onto her stomach. Blood - she has pierced Mari after all.
She’s about to say something, but her breath gets caught in her throat as she looks down and realises that Mari isn't wearing anything under her hoodie. The hoodie that’s now torn in two. Fuck. The feeling of the knife against her throat is suddenly nothing compared to the lump that has just formed there - when was the last time she drank any water? Why can’t she look away?
A second drop of blood is making its way down Mari’s body, and she can’t stop watching, can’t stop watching as her breathing begins to quicken and - oh . She knows how to get her power back.
She moves her head forward. As predicted, Mari moves the knife away as soon as her throat actually makes contact.
Coward.
She leans further, slowly dragging her tongue along the trail of blood on the other girl’s body. Her hands reach for Mari’s hips as she thrusts upwards slightly. There’s a dull thud as the knife hits the floor, but Mari doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t move her away, either. But Shauna wants - needs - her to say something.
She moves her mouth to Mari’s breast, lightly sucking on her nipple. Still nothing. Infuriated, she pulls her head back, but before she can say anything Mari’s lips are on hers.
Mari Ibarra is kissing her. Her lips are softer than she expected, but they’re the only soft thing about it. Mari’s hands move to her hair, her fingers pulling hard, teeth digging into her lip, and suddenly she realises that she is not the one in control of this situation. Maybe she never was.
Maybe she doesn’t mind that as much as she thought.
-
“Shauna!” Tai. That’s Tai. Shauna opens her eyes, panicked for a moment that Mari is in bed next to her; but there’s no sign of her teammate.
Fuck.
What the fuck.
“Shauna, get up” Tai’s inside of the hut now, eyes quickly darting over her, taking in her appearance; knife in hand, eyes wide open in panic, heavy breathing. A knowing smile grows on her face.
Shauna holds out the knife, mentally cursing how well Taissa had gotten to know her during their months of sleeping in the attic together. “Don’t.”
Tai holds her hands up in mock surrender. “I wasn’t going to.”
She’s lying. The smile hasn’t left her face for a second. Still, she lowers the knife.
“We have to prepare the food, remember?”
Oh. The game. Still recovering from her dream - or perhaps nightmare - Shauna can barely remember what they were playing. All she can think about is the feeling of Mari beneath her, of sinking her teeth into her flesh. At the time, she had just wanted to hurt her. But now it all feels different. The metallic taste of Mari’s blood in her mouth - memory mixed with dream. Fuck.
“Okay, fine, whatever. Just get out.”
Tai raises an eyebrow, but knows better than to push it.
Shauna falls back on the bed.
-
Holding the knife feels different now.
Gen and Nat brought her a deer to skin. Earlier in the day, she had been excited to do this - excited to picture Mari on the table as she slit its throat and watched the blood drip onto the ground-but now all she can think about is Mari’s blood dripping onto her stomach. The way it tasted. The way her breathing had sped up when she was looking at her, but not when a knife was being pushed into her chest. The way Mari had kissed her.
But that wasn’t real.
She’s had these dreams before, but only about Jackie. She can handle those. She can deal with that.
What she can’t deal with is the fact that she’s here, preparing dinner for the girl she just had a sex dream about, who she also hates more than she has ever hated anyone.
Tai has sent one of the other girls on the losing team over to help her, Melissa, who’s trying to talk to her but she can’t listen; she’s trying to butcher the deer as fast as possible. She hasn’t seen Mari yet, and she’s hoping to make it back to her hut without having to - that stupid fucking dream is driving her insane.
To make things worse, everyone seems to want to talk to her today. She wishes they’d go back to being afraid to even look at her; it’s like they can sense weakness. She probably shouldn’t have agreed to play a game with them in the first place - perhaps it had come across as an effort to be part of the team, when in reality she had been excited by the hunt, leaping at the chance to chase the other girls through the forest.
Realising that Mari was on the opposing team was the closest she had felt to genuine excitement in a long time. Of course, she'd gotten carried away with the bite, but she honestly feels like the others should congratulate her for how fucking tame that was compared to the scenarios she has concocted in her head.
With a dull thud, the butchered meat she'd been passing to Melissa falls to the floor, drawing her out of her thoughts.
“Hey, watch it. That’s our dinner.”
Shauna follows Melissa’s eyeline, and suddenly she wishes that she had said no to this whole fucking thing and refused to leave her hut because Mari is sunbathing in a Calvin Klein sports bra and she can’t remember how to breathe and it becomes clear why Melissa hadn’t been paying attention.
Had this been yesterday, or even that morning, she would have been disgusted by the idea of anyone being attracted to Mari. Everything about her had seemed so repulsive. But this feeling isn’t disgust. It’s the same feeling she had when she saw the way Jeff looked at Jackie.
Before she can think too much about it, Mari is snapping her fingers. “Oh, Jeeves, could one of you bottle us some berry wine over here?”
As if entranced, Melissa begins to move forwards, but Shauna stops her. “Don’t.”
Neither of them are sure if it’s a command or a warning. Hoping the blonde hasn't noticed her staring, she scoffs and says “I can’t believe we didn’t eat that bitch first.”
Melissa smiles. “Mari’s so dumb, I heard she chipped her tooth on her vibrator.”
It’s funny, in a way. It’s possible that Shauna may have laughed if she didn’t have the image of Mari using a vibrator in her head.
When Akilah comes along, holding a collection of branches and berries, Shauna has never been so happy for an interruption.
-
Mari's a bit annoyed that she hasn’t received her berry wine, but she saw the way Shauna looked at her when she’d asked. Something has changed. She hasn’t figured out what yet, but the hatred is different now.
For a moment, she thinks she sees Shauna’s eyes trailing over her body. But then she makes a comment about eating her, and isn’t looking at her anymore, and it bothers her.
Admittedly, she had been too fascinated with Jackie to notice her much before. She had always wanted to be like Jackie, to be a leader, to have the respect and admiration of their teammates. It also wouldn’t hurt to have someone look at her the way Shauna looked at Jackie.
She knows Shauna will never look at her that way, but there’s a look that she reserves for her nonetheless, and she wants that as much as she can have it.
“Mari’s so dumb, I heard she chipped her tooth on her vibrator.” Melissa, too desperate to impress Shauna, has forgotten to control her volume level.
Mari’s used to comments like this; she knows she isn’t the brightest on the team, nor is she the most liked. But she does always have a comeback.
As she looks over to retort, her eyes meet Shauna’s. The words collapse on their way to her lips; when did her mouth become a desert? She can almost feel the grit between her teeth, sand threatening to spill from her lips the second she gives it the chance.
She’s seen this look before. Shauna had given it to Jackie at Mari’s 18th birthday party, before the two of them disappeared into the bathroom for half an hour and Jackie had returned pretending there was no bruising on her throat. That was when she thought she was straight, thought she was bothered by the fact that they'd hogged the bathroom so long. It was only after everyone had left, and she was fucking herself in the shower, that she'd realised that may not have been what had gotten her so worked up about the situation.
Their eye contact is broken when Akilah steps in front of Shauna, presumably to give her the crown that she had warned her not to make, worried about the other girl's reaction, but for the first time she just finds herself grateful that Shauna is no longer looking at her.
-
Shauna isn’t sure what she’s thinking when she spits in Mari’s food. Part of her wants her to eat it. She knows she won’t. But she doesn’t expect her to stand up and face her. None of the others dare to do that - no one but Tai, at least. And then before she can process it, Mari is underneath her again, and she’s pushing her face into the floor, and she knows she has gone too far but Mari has been tormenting her all day and she needs to let her frustration out somehow. She hates how Mari still isn’t scared of her. The way she just wipes her face and storms off in anger.
She wants to be feared. She needs to be.
-
Mari doesn't know where she's going. She just knows that she can’t be around the others right now.
It’s frustrating that she’s the only one who can see how batshit insane Shauna Shipman is, and the fact that she enjoys it is getting to her even more. She knows Shauna is dangerous and no one else does; it feels like a secret the two of them share. The danger is theirs, and theirs alone.
She wanders around for hours before she heads back to the camp. It’s getting dark, and although she doesn’t feel ready to return, she's been in these woods in the dark before.
Fire. Flesh. Crying. Screaming. Howling.
She doesn’t want to relive it.
Their graveyard isn’t far from camp; they'd decided to bury those who died in winter close enough for them to visit, to honour, but far enough to offer privacy. Beyond their rituals, their festivals, Mari rarely visits the graveyard, deterred by the memory of the chase, of the hunt, the way that she had just stood, unmoving, as Javi crashed through the ice. Haunted by the memory of not reaching for him, his hands turning a pale shade of blue the longer he fought for his life.
She had helped Lottie with a memorial for Laura Lee; stood by her side as she searched through the deceased girl's belongings for something that felt enough like her to be a sufficient replacement for her body. Lottie had settled on the clothes Laura Lee had been wearing when the plane crashed, some stuffing that had escaped Leonard’s leg at some point before Laura Lee had stitched him back up, and a shard of metal Lottie had found washed up by the lake; a gift from Cabin Guy’s plane. It was only Van, Akilah and Mari who had joined Lottie at the memorial; Lottie only wanted Believers by her side, which Mari had thought fitting, because what was Laura Lee if not a Believer?
As she approaches, she can see a figure in the fading light of the sunset, digging. They must have been there for a while by the time Mari has arrived, as she doesn’t have the chance to question them before they reach into the ground, cradling a bundle of cloth and flesh and grief in their arms. The movement is so soft, so loving, that she can’t quite believe that the figure is Shauna, even though it’s the only thing that makes any sense. She’s the last person Mari wants to interact with.
Teeth. Growls. Blood. Fear.
It was Van’s screams that had woken her - Tai nowhere to be seen. She'd frozen in fear, in shock, as bright yellow eyes dragged Van into the trees. She remembered feeling thankful for the darkness, the same darkness that had allowed them to be circled like prey, when they found her. Thankful that they only had dim light, from the moon and the fire, with which to see the tears the wolf had left in her face.
Mari wishes she was different - worse - because she does not want Shauna Shipman to die.
She quietly follows at a distance, ducking behind trees if Shauna so much as twitches, cursing the fact that she actually cares about the other girl’s safety enough to risk her own. They stop around twenty minutes from camp - not that any of them really keep note of time anymore - in a clearing. It’s surrounded by tall grass, and trees, and is small enough that it is easy to miss if you aren’t looking for it. She can hear the quiet trickle of water nearby. She wonders how Shauna found this place, how many times she's been here.
“It’s you and me against the world,” Shauna is leaning now, gently kissing the rock she has placed on top of her son’s new grave. She’s almost unrecognisable. There’s a glimpse of Shauna - pre-crash Shauna, before the Wilderness had taken and taken and taken and never given anything in return, but Mari isn’t entirely convinced that this Shauna is human; more grief masquerading, hoping to pass as one of them.
Underneath all of that anger, Shauna Shipman is just broken.
It makes sense, and she feels like an idiot for not seeing it before, for adding to the anger, for participating in Lottie’s cultish rituals involving her child. She’s never felt so guilty in her life. Yet here she is, invading further, still, on some level, not allowing Shauna to grieve.
She takes a step back, regretting instantly as a snap reverberates around her.
“Who’s there?” Shauna is one of the fastest on the team, there’s no hope of outrunning her, “Get out here.”
She's standing now, knife held out in a defensive position.
“It’s me,” Mari raises her hands in surrender, “I was just trying to get back to camp.”
She expects Shauna’s walls to shoot up at her appearance, for her features to harden, her anger to return, shrouding her in the cloud of smoke she usually hides behind. But the smoke isn’t appearing.
She slowly steps into the clearing, not approaching, but at least trying to feel like less of a stalker.
“How much of that did you see?”
“Some…no, all of it. I saw all of it.” She wants to lie, but can’t; Shauna isn’t. For the first time in months, Shauna isn’t lying to anyone. It’s like she's seeing her for the first time. “I was coming back to camp, and I saw you, and I don’t know why I followed you but I did - maybe the wolves - and then I just felt like I couldn’t leave, but -”
Shauna moves so fast that Mari doesn’t see the smoke reappear; doesn’t have time to wonder which part of what she says lights the fuse, or if she has only just been able to recognise her presence. Her back is against a tree now, Shauna’s knife against her throat. She's looking at her, daring her to continue, and maybe that’s why she says what she says.
“Everyone is scared of you, you know. I’m not.”
-
She knows that. She knows Mari isn’t scared of her. It’s part of the reason she hates her so much. Maybe if it was just Mari being dumb, naive, Mari, who’s only brain cell seems to spend all of it’s time thinking about her next snarky comment, it wouldn’t trigger so much violent desire in her. But she knows that she’s the only one of her teammates who can see how dangerous she is, and it makes her feel like she isn’t being taken seriously. She pushes the knife further, feeling it dig into the soft skin of Mari's neck.
“If you tell anyone about this, I will fucking kill you. I will kill you and I will gut your little fucking -” Mari moves faster than she had, pressing the knife further into her own throat, leaning forward to kiss her. She almost drops the knife. Mari is kissing her. It’s soft, and slow, and Mari pulls away before she has the chance to process it.
“I’m sorry.”
She can’t process that either. “What?”
“I'm sorry. For participating in Lottie’s rituals. Encouraging her. I thought we were honoring them - honoring him. But it’s fucked up, I see that now. It’s so fucked and I’m so -”
She can’t hear that word again. Shauna cuts her off by kissing her, harder this time, knife still at her throat. It takes her a second, but Mari kisses back. She’s trying to be soft, to be gentle, and it’s infuriating. She doesn’t want soft. Not from Mari.
She’s having too many feelings for that; too many thoughts about the apology, about the way her teammate had looked at her as she gave it. It wasn’t pity - a look she had become so used to seeing from the others that it had made her hide her grief behind a wall of anger to avoid it. It was guilt.
Part of her has longed for one of them - anyone but Mari - to recognise what they’re doing to her. To see that they're turning her son into a symbol, rather than her child, rather than her baby who had never gotten the chance to feel the way breath filled his lungs. That they’re encouraging Lottie’s grieving of a child that isn’t even hers, whilst snatching it away from his actual mother.
Shauna Shipman isn’t allowed grief, she's learned. That’s reserved for Lottie, for Natalie, for literally anyone but her. If it wasn’t for the way he died, Javi’s body wouldn’t have even had the chance to grow cold before she had to prepare him. In contrast; her son hadn't even had the chance to grow warm; any warmth he had was taken, given to him from her own body, and their first instinct was to take him from her. To remove him from his only heat source. They could barely even look at her when she had awoken; asking for him, begging for him. She had wanted - no - needed - some kind of acknowledgement for so long.
But she never thought it would be Mari. Why does it have to be her? Why not Melissa, or even fucking Lottie herself? Why does it have to be the one person she never wanted to see her vulnerable?
As if reading her thoughts, Mari kisses her harder, puts her hands on her hips to pull her closer. Shauna almost moans, instead using her free hand to pull her hair as she uses the other to tear open her shirt with the knife, causing the other girl to gasp into her mouth as the cold tip of the knife grazes her skin. But she still isn’t scared. She moves the knife back to Mari’s throat and pushes it slightly harder, eliciting a moan.
She needs to hear that again. Positioning her knee between Mari’s thighs, she begins to trail her lips across her jawline, nipping and biting at her throat on her way to the collarbones where she begins to leave her mark. She’s subconsciously been paying more attention to Mari than she realised, because she won’t make a sound.
Shauna pulls her hair harder. Nothing. She moves her free hand to her hip and positions her better against her thigh, but Mari isn’t letting her win.
Frustrated, she moves the knife to Mari’s stomach, trailing it lightly, and, noting the way Mari bites her lip at the contact, proceeds to press harder. Mari gasps. She's about to pull away and make sure she hasn't pushed it too far when Mari gives in and allows her gasp to turn into a moan.
Oh.
-
This is not what Mari expected. She did not expect Shauna to kiss her back. She didn’t expect Shauna to tear her shirt. She didn’t expect Shauna to be so desperate to make her moan. Most of all, she didn’t expect to like it.
It wasn’t her plan, kissing her. Seeing her looking so heartbroken had reminded her that she’s human; as much as she is, at least, and then she had pushed her against the tree, and she could feel Shauna’s body against her own, and she had realised why she had been so desperate for Shauna’s eyes on her.
(She had known, deep down, but Mari Ibarra is nothing if not oblivious.)
All of her jabs, watching for a reaction, the way she feels when the fire in Shauna’s eyes burns that little bit brighter whenever she looks at her. She loves it. She loves knowing that Shauna’s attention is on her, and, even more, she loves the way Shauna hates it.
Shauna’s frustration is growing, making her desperate, and she can feel the knife being pressed harder into her skin. There’s a brief flash of pain, causing her to gasp, but then she feels the absence of Shauna’s body against hers and she was enjoying the slight pain of her collarbones being bruised by her mouth but she doesn’t quite know how to admit that yet, so instead she moans.
The change in Shauna is instant. It wasn’t like her movements were gentle before, but they had a slight nervousness to them, afraid to push too far. With one sound, Mari has given her permission to do whatever she wants; and what Shauna wants is to cause her pain.
Mari moans again as the knife slices her abdomen lightly, Shauna’s lips meeting hers with hunger. She feels a few droplets of blood trickling down her body, over Shauna’s hand.
Shauna breaks the kiss, worrying her for a moment that she’s about to stop, to snap back to reality, the reality that they hate each other too much for any part of this but the blood; but then she's raising her hand and watching the blood in fascination, tilting her hand so the blood is about to drip from her fingers.
Before it can, Mari gently grabs her hand and brings it to her mouth.
-
Jesus fucking Christ.
Mari is licking her own blood from her fingers. And she’s looking right at her as she does it. Shauna wants to moan. She wants to whimper and beg Mari to fuck her. But she can’t. This won’t be like her dream. She is not letting her have the control. However, she also can’t bring herself to move, to remove her hand from Mari’s mouth. She can’t look away.
Whether she likes it or not, Mari has complete power over her right now.
But Mari isn’t like her. She doesn’t need control. She likes to fight for it, but she doesn’t actually want it. She lets Shauna’s fingers linger on her lips for a moment before moving her hand to her chest.
Have there always been constellations in Mari’s eyes? She convinces herself it’s just the reflection of the night sky as darkness envelopes them. Still, it takes her longer than she wants to regain her breath.
Get a hold of yourself, Shipman.
She clears her throat, moving her hand to pull Mari’s bra up. She briefly thinks about cutting it off, but then realises how much she needs to see her in that bra again so instead she steps back, smirking as the other girl lets out a slight whimper at the abrupt loss of contact.
“Take it off.”
Mari’s eyes are wide, but she doesn’t fight back. She shrugs the torn shirt from her shoulders, lifts the sports bra over her head.
“What about you?” Now half naked, Mari is still leaning back against the tree, letting her head fall back to rest against it. Her chest is heaving, the cut on her abdomen has stopped bleeding now, leaving just a smudge where her hand had been. Too many clothes.
“Take them off too,” She uses the knife to gesture to her bottom half.
“I asked you a question,” Mari is getting cocky; she doesn’t deserve an answer. She steps closer, placing her knife near the waistband of her jeans.
“Take them off. Or I’ll cut them off.”
The only response is a raised eyebrow. A dare. Mari doesn’t believe her - clothes are too valuable for her to ruin more than the t-shirt. The knife presses into Mari’s skin, prompting no reaction, no break of eye contact, but her hands move to unbutton her jeans, managing to manoeuvre herself out of them without looking away. Shauna is the one who breaks eye contact; wanting to revel in her victory; to take in Mari’s body waiting for her. She cocks an eyebrow. They’ve been in the wilderness for months now, and Mari is still wearing matching underwear?
Before she can comment, Mari’s hand is on hers, pushing the knife deeper into her own skin, and Shauna feels the familiar warm trickle of blood over her fingers.
“Are you going to fuck me or not?”
-
“Never took you for such a masochist, Mar,” Shauna lets out a laugh as she says it, an attempt to hide her arousal, but it comes out more breathless than intended. Mari is too distracted by her own to notice.
“Fuck off.”
“Oh?” Shauna smirks at her, hand paused just before the waistband of her underwear. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
Fuck. She knows that Shauna wants her to beg. But she isn’t going to let her have that.
“Sure,” She shrugs. “I’m sure Melissa wouldn’t mind fucking me if I asked. I saw the way she looked at me earlier. That’s why she dropped the meat, you know.”
She says it as if she is doing Shauna a favour; of course she already knows that, and she doesn’t need the reminder.
It's a risk - it isn’t a secret that Shauna’s the jealous type. They’ve all seen the way she was with Jackie, and she was a lot more repressed then; her outlet was more self destructive than, well, destructive. The Wilderness (and, perhaps, the other girls, herself included) have pulled out her deeper desires, her impulses, which can be seen in the way her hand now trembles as she holds the knife to her throat; a feral dog on a leash.
“Say that again.” The knife is pushing harder now.
“If you don’t fuck me, Melissa will.”
Something in Shauna shifts, and for a moment Mari worries that she has gone too far. But then Shauna moves the knife to her thigh, presses it lightly. Mari’s blood is kindling to her flames; her eyes spark watching it trickle down Mari’s leg, seeming to reflect a fire that isn’t there as she kneels before her. She makes sure to hold eye contact as she licks her way up Mari’s inner thigh, tracing the blood back to the wound. Kneeling before her like this, in the dark, the movements could be described as worship.
But Shauna Shipman doesn’t worship anything but violence.
-
Several cuts later, her thirst for blood finally somewhat sated, Shauna drops the knife; Mari would have been disappointed if her reasoning wasn’t to remove her underwear. She doesn’t start slow but she doesn’t need to - she's soaked.
Shauna inserts two fingers, prompting her to gasp, at the same time bringing her tongue to her clit. She’s fucking her rough, and hard, and fast, and Mari knows that she won’t last very long. Without realising her hands tangle in Shauna’s hair and Shauna stops moving completely.
“No.”
It takes her a second to respond; breathless. “What?”
“Hands behind your back.”
Mari hesitates. She doesn’t want to obey so easily, but needs her to keep going, to keep fucking her like that. She debates saying something about Melissa again; an empty threat (because how is anyone else going to fuck her like this?) but Shauna seems to read her mind.
“I swear to God, if you mention anyone else fucking you again I will slit their throat in their sleep and never touch you again.”
Before the plane crash, if somebody had said something like that to her, she probably would have called the police. But right now it’s the hottest thing she has ever heard, and she realises that she likes it - likes being Shauna’s. Without a word, she puts her hands behind her back, between her body and the tree, and when Shauna says “Good girl” and continues fucking her she almost comes immediately.
-
Shauna could tell that Mari was close from the second she entered her. But just like with the moans, Mari is holding back; specifically to piss her off, willing to spite herself to do so. Shauna isn’t giving in. She slowly stands up, still inside of her, and brings the knife to one side of Mari’s throat as she kisses the other. She feels her knees buckle slightly, so she presses further against her to hold her up.
“Come for me, Mari.”
She shakes her head.
Shauna slows her rhythm.
Mari's a mess. Her chest is heaving, hair slicked back with sweat, bruises and cuts peppered across her body, but she won't give in. She will bleed for Shauna, bruise for her, but she absolutely will not come for her. She would have been impressed if it wasn’t so fucking annoying.
She moves slower inside of her, curling her fingers; beckoning her to come. She can tell that the other girl wants it faster, harder, but she’s too stubborn to ask for it.
“Ask me, Mar.”
She shakes her head again. Shauna’s thumb brushes her clit and she moans, but continues her refusal. Shauna starts to kiss down her neck until she reaches her breasts, her tongue circling Mari’s nipple softly before she gently catches it between her teeth. Mari’s legs shake. She moves back up her body and, for a second, Mari thinks she is going to kiss her again, seems to want her to. Instead, she bites the side of her throat. Hard.
“I’m not going to ask you again.”
“Please.”
Shauna smirks, “Please what?”
“Harder. Please.” She can barely get the words out. Satisfied, she removes her fingers. Mari is about to complain (it would have been more of a groan than an actual complaint; Shauna has fucked her speechless) when she lifts her up, causing Mari to wrap her legs around her hips in panic.
She places her down near a log, can see her legs struggling to hold her weight, and can sense the growing frustration, so before Mari can complain - as she does - she begins to take off her trousers. Then, she sits down on the log and positions her on her thigh.
“If you won’t let me make you come, you can do it yourself.”
-
This is not what Mari expects. It isn’t what she wants. What she wants is for Shauna to fuck her so hard she has no choice but to come; she hadn’t expected to be so good at denying herself. But then Shauna lifts her thigh up and her hands are on her hips, guiding her, and she realises that she can get her back in another way - by doing exactly as she asks.
She starts to grind on Shauna’s thigh, throwing her head back as she moans and when she starts to touch her own breasts and Shauna’s grip tightens on her hips, she feels like she's won. Finally satisfied, she's about to bring herself to orgasm when Shauna lifts her again. She can’t help the groan she lets out any more than the glare she gives. (Besides - when did she get strong enough to lift her so easily? And why isn’t she doing it more?)
She expects a smirk, but Shauna’s expression is serious, almost angry.
“No one makes you come but me. Not even you. Do you understand?”
She can’t tell what Shauna is thinking. She doesn’t know how to respond. Are they still playing? Or is she serious? She thought this was just going to be a hate-fuck situation, but Shauna seems genuinely possessive.
“Mari, do you understand?”
“Yes.”
She doesn’t know why she says it. Maybe it’s the look in Shauna’s eyes; the same one she has when she‘s about to kill a rabbit caught in a trap. Or maybe it’s the fact that she so desperately needs to orgasm. But she says yes. Shauna’s expression softens for a moment, before she turns her around so her back is against her chest and uses her own legs to spread Mari’s open.
-
She was planning to tease her more, wanting to hear her beg, finally, for release, but then Mari says, “I’m yours, Shauna,” and she's had enough.
She needs to feel Mari orgasm and she needs it now.
The fingers on her other hand find Mari’s clit as she fucks her, and it doesn’t take long before she can feel Mari’s walls tightening around her. It’s worth the wait. Mari comes completely undone, her back falling against her and her head resting on her shoulder.
But she isn’t done; she’s waited too long, one isn’t enough. Having slowed her pace during Mari’s orgasm, Shauna speeds up again, fucking her even harder than before, moving her other hand to Mari’s hair to pull her head to the side so that she can bite the side of her neck.
“F-Fuck Shauna, holy shit,” Mari’s getting louder now, which would worry her if she could think about anything other than fucking her; and as she comes for a second time and lets out a moan that sounds like a scream, Shauna realises that she should've thought this through. They’re far enough from camp that they have time, but their teammates will have definitely heard. Still, she lets the other girl rest against her for a moment, both breathing heavily.
“Mar,” She's never spoken to her so gently before, “We need to go.”
Mari nods and tries to stand, but her legs are still too shaky; a fawn learning to walk. Unsure if it’s because she had finally released some frustration, or if she is feeling something similar to affection, Shauna reaches out to steady her.
Affection? For Mari? Now she knows she's losing her mind.
But she had felt it before - hadn’t she? They had been friends, once.
She holds onto her with one hand, keeping her steady, as she pulls her own jeans back on. Then she leads her back over to where her clothes are, and, because she’s worried about the others finding them and for no other reason, she’s sure (definitely not because she has suddenly remembered Mari’s favourite flavour of Slushee; is having the urge to kiss her again to see if she tastes it), she helps her get dressed.
Mari picks up her torn shirt and tosses it towards her. “Great, thanks Shauna. What am I supposed to wear now?”
“You could just wear that bra.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“I would, actually.”
Mari didn’t expect that. She’s sure Mari had expected their dynamic to return to what it was before, but for some reason (see: the memory of Mari’s smile, her excitement as she congratulates her for scoring a goal) she’s currently enjoying making her blush more than she wants to fight with her. The other girl rolls her eyes, trying to act unbothered by her flirting.
“Okay, well do you want to explain how I got these?” She gestures to the cuts and bruises adorning her body. “Because I sure as hell don’t.”
Shauna shrugs, leaning against the tree they’ve just fucked against, “They’d know you’re mine.”
She’s enjoying this too much. Mari has to turn around to hide her reaction, but she can tell it has an impact.
“I didn’t mean that, you know. I just wanted to come.”
Now Shauna’s the one trying to hide her emotions. Mari has returned the favour for the marks on her body; that hurts.
She doesn’t want to think about why. (She knows, she’s always known, all she’s ever wanted is for someone to be hers, and just like when she had asked Jeff to lie to her, to say that he - someone - loved her, she had wanted to believe it a little too much.)
At first, this had just been about taking her anger out on Mari, but now that they’re standing, and talking, the apology has come back to her. She hates how intense her emotions are. How fast they change. It feels like Jackie all over again. Without saying anything, she takes off her hoodie, and then her shirt, throwing it at Mari with more aggression than she intends. She can see Mari staring, but she isn’t enjoying this anymore, it feels too real, so she puts her hoodie back on and shoves her hands in the pockets.
Now dressed, Mari is leaning against a tree, face to the stars, eyes closed, still trying to regain her breath. She hasn't seemed to notice that Shauna feels like she’s bleeding out at the reminder of reality; Mari isn’t hers, no one is. Mari Ibarra doesn’t belong to anyone; she’s only ever her own. And, besides, did someone really include Mari, anyway?
She isn’t sure how to process her emotions. How she’s gone from hating Mari, to finding her attractive, to fucking her, to sort of liking her, in the space of a day. It isn’t necessarily that she likes her, but she isn’t thinking about killing her anymore, so that’s something.
A rustle in the nearby bushes catches their attention, and Mari is suddenly looking at her with wide eyes. Was her head facing the sky to absorb the stars? Her eyes are sparkling way too much for Shauna’s liking; she 's let one apology weaken her, an apology from Mari fucking Ibarra, no less.
Maybe she’s a lot weaker than she thought in the first place. She has to be, surely, to be thinking about her like this.
Like she’s anything like Jackie.
“Go,” Shauna whispers, jerking her head to the bushes opposite the sound; a direction. If the others see them together, they’ll know instantly what had happened, she’s sure, and she can't deal with that right now. Mari seems to recognise this, and nods. She quietly follows Shauna’s command, and, without looking back, slips out of the clearing.
-
She spots Mari’s ripped shirt seconds before Van comes into view, stumbling over a twig and cursing as she does. She stands in front of it, hoping their goalkeeper won’t notice.
“Have you seen Mari?” Van questions, breathless from her search.
“No. Why would I have?”
“Fuck. Okay. Did you hear that scream before?” She did. “It sounded like Mari,” It was. “And she hasn’t come back to camp since dinner, so everyone’s out looking.”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Shauna shrugs. Van’s gaze seems to land near her feet, as if she were opposition approaching the goal; but as she steps forward, Shauna moves again. “Shouldn’t you get going then?”
“But what’s-”
“Van,” Hoping her panic isn’t showing, she tries to seem as intimidating as possible. “Your teammate screamed. And you’re bothering me instead of looking for her?”
Van steps back, shocked by the sudden intensity, but nods and says “You’re right,” giving Mari’s shirt one more confused look before leaving.
Alone in the clearing once more, Shauna picks up the shirt and stuffs it in her pocket.
-
Mari doesn’t return for days. The others are out looking for her, but Shauna stays behind. She doesn’t care. She can’t care. If she cares, that means something. It means she has done it again. Her fear has gotten in the way again and she has potentially caused the death of someone she hasn’t had the chance to explore her feelings for yet.
Except, she doesn’t have feelings for Mari. Other than hatred. And maybe attraction. But she still returns to the clearing every night when the others are in bed, hoping Mari will be waiting for her. Strangely, she notices, the sky has lost its stars.