Carter is about to lose her fucking shit.
"So you have to have the hexi—"
"Because it has to be pointing towards the zenith of the—"
"You just need to be sure that you have the right angles—"
"I have the right angles Nolan, get off my fucking back," hisses Carter, and as she turns her head a chill breeze blows through the clearing, mussing up Nolan's hair and clothes. Carter's familiar—Jude, a four-foot albino corn snake—sticks her head out of her collar and gives a sleepy hiss. The sun has just set, so she's still waking up, sluggish from when Carter picked her up out of her enclosure and allowed her to slide down her shirt and wrap around her body. Jude's wrapped all the way around her left arm, now, resting her head along Carter's shoulder.
"Fine, fuck me for trying to help, then," snaps Nolan, narrowing her black-rimmed eyes. She tugs her layer after layer of black clothing back into place and stalks over to the truck bed to sulk and play around with the ceremonial knife. Nolan's familiar, Abigail, squawks, "fuck me" at Carter as an after-shot, then busies herself neatening Nolan's hair. Carter's pretty sure the only reason Nolan went for a raven as a familiar in the first place was for its grooming capabilities. That, and the aesthetic, that goth bitch.
Carter sighs. It is actually very important that everything she's doing is perfect, and she understands that Nolan's micromanaging is only in response to anxiety around the ritual. But when Carter is trying to reference from a tome written in fucking Aramaic, it's a little too much to also be fielding Nolan's suggestions.
"It's gonna be okay," says Carter, unsure of whether she's talking to Nolan or herself. It's all going to be okay, except for the fact that if she makes one single mistake, they'll all be cursed for eternity. So no biggie.
Jude flicks her tongue in Carter's ear, and she startles.
"You're right, Jude," she says. Nowhere to go but through. As she adjusts her grip on the white chalk, Jude slithers around until she's wrapped around Carter's torso and constricts her body, just slightly. Mitch thinks it's cute that Carter has a familiar that's effectively always giving her a hug; Nolan makes fun of her for having the familiar equivalent of a thunder shirt for anxious dogs. They're both pretty correct, honestly, but Carter would never say it.
She finishes up as Nolan sulks, the process going a lot faster without the constant interruptions. Carter spends the next little while fussing, before making herself stop. It's perfect, and she's only going to fuck it up by fiddling with it more. She heads over to the truck bed and pushes herself up to sit next to where Nolan is swinging her enormous platform boots and staring lovingly at the blade. Carter is careful to keep her face out of Abigail striking distance—she's as ornery as her owner and is known for going at a nose at any time.
"What time is it?" asks Carter.
Nolan checks her phone. "Almost eight."
"Okay, so we have like an hour and a half before Mitch has to be back," says Carter. Nolan nods. They both share an uncertain glance. Carter is anal and obsessive about ritual set up, and Nolan is one of the naturally strongest witches that Carter knows, so the only actual thing that they have to worry about is... Mitch.
"Wait, what am I going to do?" Mitch had asked, after Carter had laid out the plan for the first time.
"We're going to be backing Nolan up when she does the ritual, remember?" asked Carter. Nolan had nodded encouragingly. "So you can do the steadying spells, how about that?"
"No," Mitch had said, and trained her big round eyes on Carter. "Like, you're going to be doing the set up for the ritual, and Nolan's going to be the one doing the actual main spell-casting, so what's my job?"
Carter exchanged a glance with Nolan. It was hard to stay strong against Mitch's puppy eyes, and so, cursing herself even as she said it, Carter offered: "How about you procure, you know, the main ingredient?"
"Oh yeah!" Mitch had said, perking right up. "I can totally do that!"
"We're all going to die," Nolan had mouthed from behind Mitch, but Carter didn't see her being able to tell Mitch no either, so. Whatever.
So they wait. They wait for thirty minutes, then forty, then fifty. When it gets to an hour, Carter says, "Should we call her?"
Nolan sucks her teeth, reaches into one of her million layers and pulls out a phone. It's clear from the sparkly pink case that it's Mitch's.
"She left it in the glove compartment of the truck," says Nolan. "I only found it because I tried calling her and could hear it buzzing."
"Fuck," says Carter, hanging her head. "So we just have to wait and, what, have faith in Mitch?"
Carter and Nolan exchange looks.
"We're so fucked," says Nolan.
When it's hit an hour twenty, and they're ten minutes from the ritual, Carter's ready to call it a bust.
"It comes around every fifty years," says Carter. "We could do it again when we're like, 70."
"But I don't want to access unimaginable power when I have like... wrinkles," says Nolan, wrinkling her nose.
Carter opens her mouth to say offer an empty platitude (she's not crazy about the idea either), when she hears giggling.
"Shh," she says, and points towards the direction the sound is coming from. There's what sounds like two drunk people trying to navigate themselves through the woods, the crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs and yes, there again, the giggling.
"C'mon, we're almost there," Carter hears Mitch say, in her husky "we're about to fuck" voice, which Carter has heard way too frequently for her own liking.
"Show time," says Nolan, tucking the knife into her many layers and hopping down from the truck.
Abigail squawks and rustles her feathers. "Show time, show time," she repeats.
Carter hops down as well, dusts her butt off right before Mitch enters the clearing, towing someone behind her.
"Oh, hey, what's up?" Carter hears a familiar voice say. "Is this like, a foursome thing?"
As Mitch moves, Carter can see the person she's brought. Carter knows them. It's that kid from her computer science class, the one who always sits with their legs spread super wide and is really bad at programming, but super nice to the teacher. Kid From Computer Science class is just wearing a red t-shirt and joggers, but even under the loose clothes it's easy to see that they're built. They have short, fluffy brown hair and sleepy eyes.
Carter spends a lot of time in class looking at them, but it's really just because the class is so boring.
"Oh, hey Carter," Kid From Compute Science Class, and of course they know Carter's name. "Whassup?"
"Do you know them?" asks Mitch to Carter, and Carter scratches the back of her neck.
"Kind of?" she says, "We share a class."
"Oh, that's fun," says Mitch, crossing to the truck and opening the back seat. She pulls out Momo, her rabbit familiar, and holds him to her chest, kisses him on the nose. "Hi, baby. I missed you, yes I did. Mommy missed you sooooo much."
"What's with the pentagram?" asks Kid From Computer Science Class. "Are we getting freaky with it?"
The three witches ignore them.
"We should get started," says Nolan, tilting her head to stretch her neck. "We have like five minutes or something, the moon's almost in position."
Abigail squawks, "Almost, almost," and Kid From Computer Science Class points at the bird.
"Cool crow," they say.
"She's a raven," says Nolan, words dripping with disdain, but Kid From Computer Science Class doesn't seem to notice or care, completely unfazed by Nolan's vitriol. They're still casting their gaze around the clearing.
"Is that TK's truck?" they ask. "TK's my buddy."
"Hey, baby, can you come stand in the middle of the pentagram?" Mitch asks, breathily. She leans forward and tugs down her Baby Slut rhinestone top so that her tits are practically falling out. Carter has to rip her eyes away. She would rather swallow glass than fuck Mitch, frankly, but Jesus, she’s only human. Plus, she’s pretty sure Mitch quite literally sold her soul in exchange for those titties.
For the first time, the kid seems to be expressing some suspicion.
"No reason," coos Mitch. "Regular reasons. Non-ritual sacrifice related reasons."
"So which one is it?"
"Guys, I don't know if I can do this," says Carter, biting her lip. She thinks about all the time she's spent watching this kid, the place where their soft hair meets the collar of their t-shirts, the breadth of their shoulders; imagines slitting their throat, watching the blood bathe the pentagram.
"What do you mean?" asks Nolan.
"I mean I don't think I can kill someone I know," says Carter.
"Wait, you're gonna kill me?" asks the kid.
"You know, of all the people to chicken out, didn't bet on Carter," Mitch muses, rubbing Momo's belly idly. "Figured it would probably be Nolan, honestly."
"Wait, what the hell is that supposed to mean?" asks Nolan. "I'm totally down to kill someone."
"I don't know," Mitch says, and Carter sees that coldness in her eyes that she's only gotten a few glimpses of, the coldness of someone who has zero qualms being the colorful bait on a deadly hook. Out of the three of them, Mitch is probably the best at hiding it, but there's a darkness in her that only rarely brushes the sparkly pink surface, so easy to forget. "It definitely wasn't going to be me, so."
"I'm not chickening out," clarifies Carter. "I'm just... I don't know if I'm comfortable with this."
"C'mon, Carter! You knew we were going to have to kill someone!" As Nolan gets more upset, the wind picks up in the clearing, blowing leaves and sticks, raising dust and making Carter's eyes sting. Clouds gather overhead. Nolan grinds her teeth, and distantly, thunder rumbles.
"I just didn't think it was going to be someone I knew," says Carter, appalled. When she had thought about it, which granted, she hadn't very much, it had been some faceless person. Kid From Computer Science Class has a face. It's a sweet face. They're wearing glasses. Carter can't kill someone with glasses.
"What do you mean you know them, you don't even know their name!"
"My name's Bee," says Kid From Computer Science Class, waving in a friendly manner.
"Their name is Bee," says Carter, pleadingly.
"Hey, I could just go get another person," offers Mitch, a pacifying pink-purple aura starting to bathe the clearing. Mitch is an incredibly powerful enchantress—Carter has seen her hypnotize entire crowds when she’s needed to—and Carter recognizes a soothing enchantment when she sees it. Carter can feel herself begin to react to the magical appeasement, to calm down, to just accept Mitch's offer, before she shakes her head to clear it.
"It's going to be too late by the time you get back. This isn't going to work."
"Okay, you know what, if you won't do it, then I will," says Nolan, drawing the blade and stalking towards Bee, who backs up nervously. "You don't have to watch."
"Nolan, stop it," growls Carter, raises a hand and shoves at Nolan with a blast of green-blue energy. Nolan goes flying, falls to the ground, and when she looks up, her eyes are jet black across the sclera.
"Whatever," she scoffs, picking herself up and shoving the blade back into its hilt. "We've spent weeks preparing, and this chance only comes around once every fifty years, and we're sitting out on a chance to access unimaginable power, but sure, why don't you chicken out because it's some idiot from your computer science class. Fuck! I'll just go bring the truck back to TK, then. Fucking thanks, Carter."
She haphazardly gathers the materials in a huff and dumps them in the back of the truck, throws herself in the driver's side and slams the door.
"Mitch, are you coming?" Nolan asks, sticking her head out the window.
Mitch squeezes Momo to her chest so tight he squeaks. "I don't want to leave Carter in the woods," she says, anxiously.
"It's like a fifteen-minute walk back to campus, I'll be fine," assures Carter. "Nolan's being a drama queen."
Nolan opens the car door just so she can slam it again.
"Go," says Carter gently, sending a small push of energy to gently encourage Mitch towards the truck. Mitch gives one last hesitant look back, and Carter feels a phantom hand squeeze her own before Mitch climbs into the passenger seat.
Nolan immediately turns the key and peels out of the clearing, and Carter coughs at the dust left in their wake. She's left in the woods with the remains of her carefully planned ritual, her snake, and a person that she tried to kill.
"...So, what was that all about?" asks Bee.
"We were going to do a ritual to access unimaginable magical power, but we had to do a human sacrifice," says Carter, pinching the bridge of her nose. "And I chickened out."
"Well, I mean, I'm grateful for that, brah. I'd say thank you for saving me, but I don't know if it's necessarily saving me if you're also the one who brought me out here to be ritually slaughtered in the first place."
"Yeah," says Carter, hollowly, looking down at the ground. Nolan had been right. All of that work, all of that time spent painstakingly researching, all of that money they had spent on supplies—wasted. And for what? Some rando from her computer science class? In the grand scheme of things, killing someone she knew wasn't such a big deal.
"Hey, I'm sorry it didn't work out," says Bee, reaching out to put a hand on Carter's shoulder. Their hand is warm and big, strong when they give Carter's shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"It's okay," says Carter, even though it isn't. "Not your fault." She sighs and kneels down to start to gather up the remaining crystals and blown-out candles that Nolan had left. They would all fit in her backpack, she could just bring them back to her dorm room. To her surprise, Bee bends over and starts to help, picking up crystals and making a little pouch out of the bottom of their shirt to put them in.
"Oh, no, you don't have to—" Carter starts. It doesn't feel fair to lure someone out to the woods to kill them and then make them help you clean up.
"Many hands make light work," shrugs Bee, picking up an obsidian crystal and placing it carefully into their pouch. It exposes their stomach and waist, thick with muscle. "So, what were you going to do with it?"
"The unimaginable magical power."
"Huh." Carter settles back on her haunches. "I kind of don't know. I guess I figured once I got it, I'd just know what to do with it."
Bee hums. Carter feels like it’s a little judgmental.
"You seem really chill about the whole 'magic is real' thing," says Carter, accusatorially. "What's that about?"
Bee shrugs. "I dunno. It's obvious that it's real with all the, you know, calling thunderstorms and flashes of colorful light and whatever, so. You just gotta adjust your worldview a little bit, is all."
Carter doesn't really know what to say to that, so they just finish cleaning up in silence. Carter kicks dirt and pine needles over the pentagram—no need for some local kids to find it and get themselves into trouble—then takes the crystals that Bee has collected and carefully puts them in her backpack.
"Are you heading back to campus?" asks Bee. Carter nods. "We can walk together then, I guess."
"You don't want to go back to the party?" Carter asks.
"Kind of not in the party mood anymore," Bee says, and gives Carter a weak smile.
"Hey," says Carter, reaches out to grab onto Bee's wrist. "I'm sorry that we lured you out to the woods and tried to kill you in a blood ritual. I don't think I've said that yet."
When they come face to face, really look at each other for the first time, Carter is surprised to realize that she's a few inches taller than Bee. She's looking down just slightly into their eyes.
"I mean, like, it's obviously not okay. But I appreciate the apology. And I appreciate you not going through with it."
"Like I said, I didn't think it was going to be somebody I knew. Anyway, let me walk you back to your place. It's like, literally the least I could do."
"I just live in Blackstone," says Bee. "So pretty close." Blackstone Hall is one of the upperclassmen dorms, broken up into apartment style units with full kitchens.
"Oh, so you're an upperclassman?" asks Carter, as they start to leave the clearing.
Bee nods their head. "I'm a junior. I'm studying kinesiology, but I'm just taking the computer science class for a requirement."
"Same," nods Carter knowingly. "But I'm a senior. I'm taking it for my science requirement. I didn't want to do biology or anything, because dissections freak me out." She shudders.
"What's your major?" asks Bee.
"What, I don't look it?" Carter gestures down at her plaid pleated skirt, her perfect high ponytail, her sensible shoes.
"No, I just didn't think a witch would be studying accounting."
Carter shrugs. "I like numbers and being precise. And tax codes are a lot more like magical laws than you might think. Plus, somebody in the coven has to be able to afford all of the expensive eyes of newt and whatever, and with Nolan studying fashion and Mitch studying... honestly, I don't know what she's studying. It changes by semester. But anyway, it's not going to be either of them."
"Can't you just like, turn metal into gold or whatever?"
"Well, first off, gold is a metal. Second, I can't pay my tuition in gold bars. People start asking questions."
"What do you do as a witch, then?"
Carter tilts her head, thinking. "Well, I did make a deal with the Devil, so I do carry out his dark work, but that's like... maybe 15% of it? A lot of the rest of it is like, reading old books and worrying about whether the FBI is gonna flag my online shopping history because I keep ordering various powdered animal parts."
"That doesn't seem as fun as I thought it would be. I was imagining more like... you know the movie Hocus Pocus?"
"Yes, I know the movie Hocus Pocus. I know every witch movie."
"Yeah, well I was thinking it would be a little bit more like that, you know? More, like, fun."
"I don't know," says Carter, frowning and curling her hands around her backpack straps. "I think books are fun."
"Oh yeah, no, for sure," says Bee. "Different strokes for different—woah!"
Carter trips, letting out just the tiniest humiliating shriek as the left toe of her Toms catches on a tree root. She can feel herself starting to fall, her momentum carrying her forward, and has that awful, heart-stopping moment where you have enough time to know something really bad is about to happen but not enough time to stop it. She doesn't even have enough time to close her eyes, just puts out her hands on reflex and thinks, fuck, I'm going to break my wrists.
But then a strong hand grabs her elbow, and thick arms come to clamp around her chest. Her momentum is halted, and she realizes that she's being held, still at a little bit of an angle, her back against Bee's broad chest.
"You okay?" Bee asks, without letting go. They're both panting a little bit, probably from shock. Carter can feel Bee's breath fluttering the baby hairs at the back of her neck, they're so close together.
"Yuh-huh," says Carter, nodding. She feels incapable of speech, partially because she's still recovering from the fright of the fall, and partially because she's winded from all of the strength that she can feel coiled in Bee's body. They're holding Carter up like it's nothing, feet planted heavy in the dirt and arms tight but gentle around her body.
"Alright," says Bee, and gently tilts Carter upright, letting her go with a final squeeze to her biceps. "That was scary."
"Mmhm," says Carter, tugging her skirt back into place to have something to do with her hands. "Do you play sports?"
Bee blinks at her. "Yeah, I'm here on a hockey scholarship. And then I play club rugby, too."
"Oh," says Carter, carefully not conjuring up an image of Bee streaked with mud and wearing those little rugby shorts. "Just, you know. Fast reflexes."
Carter goes to walk forward, but when she takes a step and puts weight on her left foot, a quick stab of pain twings her ankle. She hisses and lifts the foot up.
"Does it hurt?" asks Bee.
Carter frowns and nods, examining it. It's obvious that nothing is broken. She must have just twisted it.
"Here," says Bee, and to Carter's surprise, kneels in front of her, facing away. "I can piggy-back you. I have first aid stuff in my room, we can wrap your ankle."
Carter bites her lip and doesn't even think twice about it, bracing her hands on Bee's shoulders and climbs onto their back. Bee stands with a small grunt, hoists Carter's legs up around their waist and starts walking.
Carter thinks Bee is talking about something, a team trivia night maybe ("They had a meme category, and I just dominated man, like, boom, boom, boom, boom. They should have known better, for real."), but Carter isn't listening, is too busy thinking about... other stuff. Stuff like how broad Bee's shoulders are when Carter wraps her arms around them, the size and strength and warmth of Bee's hands as they support her, gripping underneath her thighs. Her skirt is short, and gets rucked up against Bee's back, so their hands are just gripping straight on to the flesh of Carter's thighs. She's really glad that she shaved her legs and moisturized this morning, hopes... she doesn't know. Hopes Bee notices that her legs are soft.
As they walk, and Bee continues to talk without much input from Carter beyond the occasional hum, Carter becomes aware of an additional problem. At one point, when Bee halts to resettle her, Carter's skirt gets messed up even more, and when they start walking again, Carter realizes that her pussy is pressed right up against their back. There's only the thin barrier of Carter's underwear and Bee's t-shirt between her clit and the hard expanse of their mid-back. She hadn't noticed this before, but Bee has a particularly bouncy walk, and with each step, Carter gets jostled and rubbed. It's a problem, primarily because when she's alone, her favorite way of getting off is putting a pillow between her legs and humping it until she comes. Her body associates the rubbing with "orgasms are about to happen", and she can feel herself getting wet in response, starting to soak her underwear. She buries her head in Bee's neck at the thought that she might be leaving a wet spot against Bee's shirt, that they might be able to feel it.
"You okay?" asks Bee, tilting their head back, and Carter chokes back a hysterical giggle. "You're being kind of quiet."
"Yeah, no, I'm fine, just. Wrapped up in your story."
"Aw, thanks bud," says Bee, simple and happy.
They're on campus now, and Carter can see Blackstone in the distance, its ugly modernist outline against the stars. It's only a few more minutes of walking to get there, and Carter is hanging on for dear life by the time that they get to the front door. She can't keep in a gasp as Bee shifts her to get their swipe card out of their back pocket, pushing her even more firmly against their back.
"There we go," says Bee, when the little light turns green, and kicks the heavy door once to open it. Carter has seen people struggle to open that door with both arms.
Bee presses the up button when they get to the elevator, and Carter has a moment of fervent prayer down to Satan in thanks that they aren't taking the stairs. They ride up to the 4th floor and get off, and Bee once again hitches Carter at an angle to get their key in the lock. On the door there are those cutesy little name tags that are in the shape of green leaves, Carter guesses for spring: Joel, Quinn, and Brady.
"Where are you?" asks Carter, pointing to the name tags.
"Right here," says Bee, tapping on the tag that says Joel.
"Your name is Joel?" Carter asks, doing a bad job disguising her disgust.
"Yeah, man," says Bee. "Not the one I was born with, but it's one that I like."
"I just thought it was Bee," says Carter. She had been particularly taken by it, thought it was such a cute name, and now to know that the name that Bee actually goes by is Joel is... disappointing.
"Wow, you're not a super nice person, huh?" asks Bee, as they carry Carter through the dark, empty apartment. Carter blinks as she's set down on a soft, twin-sized mattress, and Bee turns on a bedside lamp on the dresser, the lampshade bathing the room in a soft purple light.
Carter is a witch, a mistress of the darkness, servant of the Devil and summoner of storms. Being nice had never really played into her worldview, and if someone had asked her yesterday if she would have cared that a random kid from her Computer Science class thought she was nice or not, she would have laughed in their face. But she finds herself a little bit hurt, a little bit... she doesn't know. Wounded, maybe, at the idea that Bee has found something in Carter to dislike, even if it doesn't seem to really bother them all that much. And she guesses that meeting in the woods in an attempted ritual sacrifice maybe wasn't the best way to make a good impression, but she at least hoped that saving Bee had made her look somewhat good in their eyes.
Bee doesn't seem to notice Carter's crisis, having turned their back to dig through a set of plastic drawers.
"My last name is Farabee, so all my teammates call me Bee," they say. Carter is too emotionally confused to even admire Bee's ass as they bend over. "But legally I changed my first name to Joel. I don't care which one people use, it's fine either way."
They find what they're looking for and cross back over with what is actually a fairly good-sized medical kit. They sit cross-legged in front of Carter, and as they open the kit, Carter understands the size—alongside what you would usually find in a first-aid kit, there's also small bottles of what Carter recognizes as testosterone, individual needles in sanitary packaging, extra gauze and band aids. Bee ignores all of that, reaches for some ace bandaging and lays it to the side, then tenderly takes Carter's ankle into their lap.
"I'm gonna try to take your shoe off, okay? Tell me if it hurts too much."
As Bee begins to pick at Carter's double-knotted laces, Carter swallows and says, "I'm sorry I'm such a bitch."
"No, you're not," says Bee, smiling up at Carter, happy as a clam. "And that's fine."
Carter has a bizarre moment where she's so choked up she can't speak, and obviously that's the point where Jude pokes her head out through a buttonhole of Carter's shirt to give Bee a sniff with a flick of her tongue.
"Oh," says Bee, looking at Jude. They're so close that Bee's eyes have to cross a little. "That's a snake."
"Yeah, she's my familiar," says Carter. "Sorry about her, she's just curious."
Jude sticks her head back in through the buttonhole, then moves up Carter's body and starts to slither down out of her collar.
"Oh, that's a really big snake," says Bee.
"She's long, but she's not very thick," says Carter, feeling like she's defending Jude's honor. Jude doesn't seem to care either way, just slithers down and across the room, climbing up to poke her head against the window screen. "Oh, could you open that up and let her out?"
"Sure," says Bee, goes over and carefully moves around Jude in order to open up the window. Jude flicks her tongue against Bee's wrist in thanks, then makes her way out the window.
"Is she gonna be okay?" asks Bee, sticking their head out to watch Jude slither down the wall.
"Yeah, she'll be fine, it's a warm night and she knows how to get home," says Carter.
"Okay," says Bee, peeking one last time before drawing their head back into the room and closing the window. Bee settles down in front of Carter again, and gently takes Carter's foot back into their lap.
"Thanks for helping me," says Carter. She isn't surprised. Everything she's seen of Bee tells her that this is exactly what they would do: get lured into a dark ritual, but then be the catalyst for someone's change of heart, then give their would-be murderer a piggy-back ride back to their room and delicately wrap their twisted ankle. When they look up and smile at her, Carter is struck by Bee's inherent goodness: generosity, forgiveness, charity, everything Carter gave away when she pledged herself to Satan. She doesn't know if she was always this bad, or if she signed away a little bit of her humanity when she put her pen to the Devil's contract (she actually thinks she's technically His bride--which is awkward because she is a lesbian, but she figures she and Satan probably have kind of a lavender marriage thing going on). Maybe it took something from her, but then on the other hand, maybe someone who's willing to make a deal with the Devil never had too much humanity in the first place. It doesn't matter now but—. Looking at Bee's sweet face, it makes her feel things again, beyond a general lust for power, like she hasn't in years.
"Of course," says Bee, and the smile on their face is so dear that Carter just has to lean down and kiss it. She puts her hands on Bee's shoulders, bends in two, slow enough for Bee to move away if they wanted to, and presses her lips to Bee's, gently. Bee hums and kisses back, bringing a hand up to cradle Carter's jaw. Their lips meet once, twice, a third time, and then Bee pulls back.
"Let me do your ankle," they say. "And then we can do that some more."
"'Kay," says Carter, leaning back. She feels comfortable enough, now, that when Bee's head bends back over to look down, she slides her hand through their hair. It's fantastically soft, and Carter watches Bee's shoulders relax as she starts to scratch her nails through their scalp. When Bee has to jostle her ankle to pull her shoe off her foot, Carter hisses, and Bee presses a gentle kiss to her knee. They pull her sock off and wrap her ankle efficiently, obviously experienced, having done this before.
"Gentle hands," teases Carter, and Bee looks up at her and sticks their tongue out.
"Silky mitts, homie," they say, and Carter doesn't care enough to ask what the fuck that means before Bee has finished wrapping her ankle. They smooth their thumb over it. Carter moves her hands from their hair to their shoulders, squeezing at the muscle.
"So strong," she sighs. It's not her fault if she has tastes, and enough muscle to pick her up and throw her around is one of them.
"I only started T like, three months back, so most of that is just from the sports," says Bee, listing forward to lay their head against Carter's thigh, giving Carter more access to Bee's back and spreading her legs further apart in the process. Carter scratches her nails down their back, and they sigh, nuzzling into the soft flesh of Carter's leg. "I am starting to have a terrible little beard, though."
They guide Carter's hand underneath their chin, where there are a cluster of six or so dark, scratchy hairs just beginning to poke their way out.
"Wow, you'll be a regular Paul Bunyan in no time," coos Carter, and Bee turns their head to laugh into Carter's leg. It hasn't escaped her notice that Bee has slowly been moving their head further and further up Carter's thigh, like a dog trying to sneak a steak slowly enough that their owner won't notice.
They're right at the edge of Carter's skirt, now, and so it doesn't surprise her when Bee murmurs, "Can I eat your pussy?"
"Be my guest," says Carter. She pulls up her skirt to bare her soaking wet underwear. Bee only takes a second to take off their glasses before they move straight in, zeroing in and pressing their whole nose and mouth against the patch of damp white fabric. They take a pause to inhale, and Carter realizes with a jolt to their gut that they're smelling her, relishing in the scent. It occurs to her that Joel Farabee might be a little bit of a pussy-hound.
"So wet," they say, and lick with a broad tongue over Carter's underwear from her hole all the way to her clit. She moans, and spreads her legs wider, leaning back on one hand and hooking one leg over Bee's shoulder, the other hand still holding on to the edge of her skirt.
"Like it?" she asks, and Bee moans in affirmative. "It's for you. Got me so hot, being carried like that."
Bee groans and hooks their fingers in the lace of Carter's panties, pulls them aside and gets their mouth on Carter's actual pussy for the first time. They lick, nudging Carter's clit with their nose before moving up and sucking at it, grabbing the back of Carter's knee and pressing her thigh back and out, spreading her. Carter moans and falls down onto her elbow, gripping the skirt in a white-knuckled, shaky hand. She pants, open-mouthed, as Bee sucks, gentle and steady, moans with disappointment when they move back down to lick at her hole, gathering her wetness on their tongue, obviously relishing in it.
"Fingers, your fingers, please," begs Carter. Bee growls in frustration, both hands occupied, one with holding onto Carter's leg and keeping her spread, the other still hooked onto Carter's panties.
"Here," Carter gasps, takes over holding her own leg, pushing herself even farther out and back, not afraid of hurting herself like Bee was. It makes her fall onto her back, changes the angle so Bee has to kneel up when they slide two of their fingers in one go into her pussy, moving their mouth up to flick at Carter's clit with their tongue. They're as talented with their hands as they are with their mouth, crooking their fingers in a gentle "come-hither" motion, rubbing slow but firm right against Carter's g-spot.
Carter can't keep her neck craned up to look, and her head falls back against the mattress, staring blindly up at the ceiling as she gasps. She has nearly no leverage, spread as she is, but she still can't help the instinct to curl her hips, push them up in an attempt to fuck Bee's face, get more and more of what feels so good. She's so wet she can hear the squelch of Bee's fingers, feel it dripping all the way down to her asshole. She takes her free hand and desperately yanks at her shirt until it comes free of her waistband, shoves her hand up under her shirt and bra to grasp her own tit, pinch and tug at her nipple. It's so much, Bee's firm fingers and soft, clever tongue juxtaposed with her own harsh tugs, and she can feel something begin to build strong in her stomach.
"Don't stop," she says desperately, "Please, just like that, please," and Bee groans and obeys, not changing a single thing, keeping the exact same tempo. Carter can hear her own moans going high and stupid, feels her body winding up and up and up, muscles tensing and pressure building deep inside—until it releases. Carter comes with a squeal, curling her toes and fucking squirting all over Bee's face. They groan and work Carter through it, the press of their fingers and tongue slowing and soothing her down until they slide their fingers out and lick one last time across Carter's entire cunt, a quick, mean suck at her clit making her jolt.
"Holy shit," Bee says, pressing their forehead against Carter's pubic bone. She feels like she hasn't heard their voice in an eon, the deep, sleepy drawl of it.
"Uh-huh," agrees Carter, reaching down to smooth their hair off their forehead.
They sigh and sit up, swiping the back of their hand against their mouth. They're really soaked, face and neck still damp, the collar and a little bit of the chest of their shirt dark with moisture.
"Do you want me to clean you up?" Carter asks, wiggling her fingers and making some dancing green-blue lights appear.
"No, are you kidding?" asks Bee, sounding offended. "Fucking badge of honor."
"Alright," Carter laughs, pulls Bee up by the shirt collar to climb on top of her, cradling their hips in her legs as she pulls them down for a kiss. They taste like pussy—it would be pretty impossible for them not to—but she doesn't mind, allows their tongue to press against her own.
"You wanna keep going, or be done?" asks Bee, and Carter pulls back to look at them like they're crazy.
"Keep fucking going, duh," she says. Bee laughs.
"Alright, alright, you just came super hard, some people might want to be done after that."
"Mmm, not me," Carter says, sticking her hand up Bee's shirt to scratch her nails against their belly. They shiver.
"I like that," they say. "Your nails."
"Huh," says Carter. She gets her nails done regularly. Right now, they're an ombre from pink to sparkly white, a long gel manicure, sharp and pointed (right pointer and middle fingers excluded, of course). She sticks the tips of her nails into the soft skin of Bee's stomach, and they shudder.
"What do you want to do?" they ask, dropping a kiss to Carter's neck.
"Want you to fuck me," she says, without hesitation. "Is that something you do?"
"Uh, hell yeah," says Bee, pulling off of Carter to stand up. "What size dick do you want?"
"Big," says Carter, starting to unbutton her shirt.
"You bet," says Bee, taking off their shirt as they walk across the room. "Actually, would you mind..." they say, pointing at their binder. "I can't wear this when we fuck because it makes it hard to breathe, but—"
"Oh, of course," says Carter, turning to face the wall. She hears Bee's relieved groan as they peel off their binder, the thump of their clothes hitting the ground.
"You said big?" they ask, and Carter can hear them rummaging around in a drawer as she shucks off her shirt.
"Biggest you got," says Carter. She finishes undressing, pulling her skirt and ruined underwear down her legs, then decides, fuck it—she crawls to the top of the bed, stays up on her knees but buries her face in the pillow, allowing her chest and arms to rest against the bed. She knows what she looks like, the curve of her spine, ass up in the air begging to get fucked, and so she isn't surprised at the "holy shit!" that Bee lets out when she hears them turn around.
"You're such a fucking smoke-show," they say, and then: "Oh, you can look."
She tilts her head to take a peek, and Bee's standing in the center of the room, mouth open dumbly. They have a sports bra on, and their harness is around their hips; the cock that's jutting from between their legs might be enough to intimidate some people, but not Carter. She's taken bigger.
"Come fuck me," she says, reaches out a hand and a coil of teal magical energy wraps around Bee's wrist so she can yank them forward. They stumble a little, but eagerly cross the room and climb up onto the bed, Carter's magic dissipating.
"Don't have to tell me twice, shit," they say, kneeling up behind her. "Do you want me to finger you again, or...?"
"Just fuck me," Carter says, then: "Don't make me have to tell you a third time."
"Yes, ma'am," says Bee, sounding thrilled. Even despite that, they take their sweet time with it, first spreading Carter's cunt wide open with their thumb and just fucking... looking, watching the twitch and flex of Carter's cunt, hungry and empty. Carter can feel herself let loose a drip, can't help it.
"So wet," Bee sighs. They push their thumb in to the root, and Carter moans, so close to what she wants but just not enough. "I know, I know," says Bee, removing their thumb and rubbing the head of their cock against Carter's cunt one, two, three times before pushing in, slow and smooth all the way to the base. Carter's mouth drops open on a silent moan. It's true that it's not the biggest thing she's taken, but it's plenty big enough, spreading her wide, giving her something solid to clench down on.
"Good?" asks Bee, and Carter nods. Bee grabs Carter by the hips to steady her and pulls out halfway, thrusts back in. The volume of Carter's moan surprises even her, ripped from her chest, a sound of primal satisfaction.
"Yeah, you're good," says Bee, and sets up a rhythm, quick and sharp. It rubs against Carter in all the right places, filling her and stretching her, and she quickly moves her hands down between her legs, spreads her fingers around where Bee is stretching her wide to pick up some of her own slick, starts to rub her clit quick in time with Bee's thrusts. She knows she's letting out little noises whenever Bee bottoms out, when she can feel that press and jab deep inside of her, nearly uncomfortable but so good, scratching that itch. She clenches her jaw, braces herself with her elbow against the mattress. She needs something a little more, she needs—
"Can you stick your finger in my ass?" she asks.
"Holy shit," says Bee, laughing a little bit, sounding surprised and delighted. "For sure." They pull out for just a second to gather some of Carter's wetness on their fingers, and as they fuck back into her pussy they push one finger into her asshole, all the way to the last knuckle.
"Yeah," moans Carter. It feels so good, hard to distinguish anymore between all of the sensation going on, just feels like fullness. Carter's forearm and wrist are starting to get tired but she can't stop, can feel it building up again, knows that if she stops she's gonna lose it. "Can you—another one—"
"Fuck yeah," says Bee, pulls their finger out and goes in again with two, stretching Carter even more, filling her up even deeper. "I can feel you, shit, I can feel my cock with my fingers. Carter, you look so cute but you're so fucking dirty—" and that's it, that's what makes Carter clench and come, and come, and come, shaking through it on Bee's cock and fingers, groaning from deep in her chest.
She inhales on a high gasp when Bee just keeps fucking her through it, rips her hand away from her clit like it's on fire.
"Do you want me to—" Bee starts, and Carter shakes her head.
"Don't stop, don't stop," she says, bracing her hands against the mattress. She's barely getting a chance to breathe, to recover, and she loves it, Bee reading her just right. Their hands are back tight on her hips, and they're moaning low. Carter face plants into the bed again and brings her hands together behind her back, conjuring a glowing green-blue rope that wraps around her wrists.
"Jesus Christ, Carter," says Bee, sounding out of breath but still managing to laugh a little. They let go of her hips, grab at her wrists with one hand and her shoulder with another, pulling her up and back so that her entire torso is lifted off the bed, hovering with only Bee keeping her upright.
"I'm gonna—" Bee says, sounding desperate, and Carter guesses that there must be something inside the harness, something to rub against or something that vibrates.
"Yeah, come on," says Carter, hair sticking to her face, head lolling loosely on her neck. "Come in this cunt."
Bee groans and kicks their hips, once, twice, three times, tilting forward and burying their face in Carter's neck.
"Gonna say it one more time: holy shit," says Bee, panting into Carter's neck.
"Uh-huh," says Carter. Bee pulls off with a groan, and Carter just allows her body to sink into the mattress, turning her head to face the wall to give Bee privacy. She can hear them unbuckling the harness, letting it just fall to the floor; chuckles at the distinctive sound of a dildo bouncing against the ground. They rustle around a little more and then climb back into bed with her, and Carter can feel the soft material of their t-shirt and boxers against her skin.
"Do you want any clothes or anything?" asks Bee, but Carter shakes her head. She's still hot, and very comfortable being naked. She turns onto her back, though, so that she can see Bee. They have their glasses back on, and their hair is a mess, so she reaches out to smooth it down. "I'm honestly surprised that we didn't jostle your ankle or anything, I completely forgot about it."
"Oh, yeah," says Carter. Now that she's coming down from the high of endorphins, she can feel her ankle, still sore and throbbing slightly. "Here." She reaches down and bathes the entire thing in a soothing blue light. She can feel the torn muscle mending itself, which is always a weird experience, but the relief as the pain dissipates is sweet. Once she's done, she flexes her ankle, rotates it around a couple of times. "All fixed."
"What-! You-! You mean the whole time—" squawks Bee.
"Yuh-huh," says Carter, and she can feel herself smiling so much her eyes are squinting up.
"You fucking—" says Bee, grabs one of the pillows and hits Carter in the face with it.
Carter just giggles, barely defending herself until they stop, kneeling up over her hips and staring down at her.
"You are fucking evil, Carter Hart," they say, but there's a smile dancing around their lips.
"Oh, I know," says Carter, and grins. "I'm rotten to the core."