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Natalie thinks Misty noticed it before she even could, the dark splotches of drying blood on the blanket lying beneath them both in the spot Nat had rolled away from. Awoken in the first stretches of still chilly morning light.
She had almost forgotten how it felt, the deep throbbing pains hitting lower and sharper than the hunger cramps from months past, the heat and the stickiness as she peeled her thin blanket away and stood.
Misty was next to her in only a moment, looking down at the staining fabric the same way Nat was and placing a hand to her shoulder.
Misty had never gone far, not since the cabin burned in front of them and she’d been enough in her right mind to point them all to the least slushy patches of earth amongst the close treeline and settle down as much as they could.
Not since the fire died down and she’d pulled Natalie close enough to throw an extra blanket she’d saved between the both of them and muttered something about body heat, about partnering up efficiently.
And Nat lets her touch linger, knees pressed in when Misty curls up against her back in the quiet hum of night or an arm slung around her waist at the first beats of consciousness, stability and a warmth almost as good as the lost cabins furnace. She pulls away in the mornings when bleary eyes are cleared and it starts to feel too real again, too seen as the others rise and bustle with their given chores of the quickly forming village and Natalie attends to her leadership looking away from those prying brown eyes, forgets the feeling by the time the sun sets.
So it’s predictable, when Misty helps scoop up half of the stained makeshift bedding and prances along just behind Natalie all of the way to the far side of the stream where they do their washing.
Misty likes to help, she knows. Even though it still stirred something odd in Nat’s chest when Misty had first offered to do it all herself and let Nat rest, shooting it down as quick as it was said.
And now she’s watching Misty hang the fabrics scrubbed half clear of her blood over a tree branch with a bright smile on her face, as it that weren’t any stranger.
“It’ll take time. I’m sure we can gather some thicker scrap fabrics if theres less fight over keeping them intact. I mean, nobody could even agree to give them up to dress Gen’s wound!”
Natalie just looks at her, having found letting Misty’s rambles work themselves through usually turned out to be way easier. A simple nod to move it on or a yeah when that expectant face lingered too long on hers. She didn’t mind it, really. Especially now when all she could focus on was the uncomfortable slick feeling on her and against her clothes each time she moved to spread the bedding out to dry.
She knows she’ll have to strip them off at some point, scrub twice as hard and hope the stains come out of them better.
Only when Misty would eventually head back to camp and release her from those looks she kept shooting now that tried a little too hard to come across as caring, the same ones she’d seen linger much closer up the nights that she’d shiver a little too hard and Misty would roll to face her, tuck herself closer.
Not when she’s gazing Nat up and down and clasping her hands together in front of her at a job well done, sheets sufficiently breeze drying.
“Nat? Want to at least wash your clothes while we’re over here too?”
fuck
“Uhm. I don’t know if there’s much point until later, like you said, uh, it’ll soak through what i change into anyway.”
It’s not like it would be anything Misty hasn’t seen before, they’ve all given up some kind of shame out here at one point or another with down to the underwear lake visits and it being so easy to walk up on someone in even less when their only shelter was a thicket of leaves.
Misty’s smile falters for a moment, replaces like a glitch.
Nat leans a step towards her, looks.
It’s more that thing Misty does when she’s the only one who can fix it, the sparkle she gets, the only one able to bare looking straight ahead, that trips up the thing in Nat wanting to fix it all on its own, let it be bad all on its own. Brings a redness to her cheeks and a flip in her belly.
“Right, okay!” Misty’s head tilts, seemingly unconvinced despite her unfittingly cheery word. “But you must be uncomfortable? I know i would be. we could even try moss, they used it for surgical dressings in the ‘20’s!”
Natalie lets out a deep breath, looks down from that gaze and feels almost glad that maybe Misty’s found another road to yammer down for the time being. Thinks about just laying down in the stream, briefly remembers the days of running through sprinkler water in the dead of summer long before she knew how it felt to be willing to give anything for a speck of warmth, forgets it.
Then she sees the streak of dark blood dripping its way down her leg. A fresh bout of cramping making itself all the more known.
And Misty’s quiet again, eyes wide and consuming and glued to just where Nat’s had been. Licking her lips when a small groan pours from Natalie’s mouth, equal parts pain and irritation.
“Well, fuck”
Misty gives a little shake of her head at this, slowly finds Nat’s eyes again.
Natalie can’t quite find it in herself to be truly embarrassed by any of it, Misty’s reddening cheeks or the smell in the air between them, even more noticeable from the leak, to match. Just doesn’t want Misty going all ‘Periods in the wilderness 101’ on her right now. She can already see the gears turning in her mind, feel her own blush building.
“Hey, it’ll be alright” That prying, caring look again, Misty’s voice too soft. “You’ll feel better if we clean you up. Use my clothes if you need”
“We could head back, figure it out” Nat tries to say.
“Or, actually, i know!
Misty’s back staring like she’s starving, drifting down again and back up to Nat’s face.
“Misty” Natalie really interrupts this time, a warning
“Wait. I really…”
Misty turns her head to the slow stream they’d stepped away from, then back at Nat like she’d made a profound connection this time. moves closer, a slight lilt to her eyebrows
“I just mean, i know how i can help now, if you want”
“What the fuck do you-“
then Misty is kneeling, the fanfare and theatrics of ceremony this time replaced with the hit of Misty’s knees against dirt. Her expression no less serious, no less devout in the glow of soft sunlight across her face now.
Natalie holds back a smile, a bubbling laugh
“You’re ridiculous” she says in a light whisper
Watches Misty’s small reactions, the frown pulling at the edges of her lips, the recognition in the flicker of her eyes, looking down
No, no. the familiar clawing guilt begins to bloom in Nat’s chest and she replaces it with a gentle hand to Misty’s blushed cheek, fingers stroking her jaw to pull her gaze back. Sighs
“No Misty just-“ Nat presses her lips together. Half knows it, at this point, when Misty sets her sights on something and grips it tight until she gets it. when Natalie lets her, watches, waits. “Tell me”
And Misty brightens at her words, leans into the touch almost pathetically and stares up at her, awe and certain, once again.
“The water’s still freezing cold, you felt it. Remember how everyone would tell me to spit when i scrubbed the knee pads?”
Natalie blinks long, shakes her head at the thought of locker rooms and grass stains, so different now.
“They were making fun of you, Misty”
“No, i know. I just thought… we don’t have enough rags yet, spits warm. It’s efficient.”
Misty’s eyes flick from Natalie’s face down to the waistband of her shorts, bites her bottom lip in the smallest of ways and it’s so weird.
Weird because Natalie knows they can still boil water just past that thick tree line, has seen Misty do it for bleeding scrapes and for stews in the last week alone.
Weird because under that Natalie knows exactly what Misty wants, what she’s been inferring, and still doesn’t feel that common need to pull away. Still wrapped under the covers of something safe. Like Misty here, wanting this, can be the same as the necessary press of bodies in the dark. Like the hot coil of wanting back that forms in Nat right where Misty looks can be survival too. Not a distorted offer of control in the form of a helping hand, or a study. A vital exchange, a plea.
She nods, nods again until Misty sees it. Misty reaching up and fingers skimming the bare skin just below where the fabric sits on Nat’s hips. Natalie shivers, gives her cheek one more reassuring stroke and lets her hand fall to her side.
Then Misty’s tugging them down gently, the tackiness sticking together her thin underwear in the places that the blood started drying between them and it’s all down and bunched at her boots before either of them think it through. A tiny gasp escapes them both.
Nat feels the cool breeze against freshly exposed skin. Holds back her heated giggle when Misty finally wins her fight of getting the soiled clothes around and off her boots and comes eye level to her bush. Lips parted and eyes widening, sweeping over the mess of blood and wetness coating Natalie’s dark hair and inner thighs like it’s all a gallery piece.
Misty reaches out and caresses the hair there, running her fingers through it so softly that it just barely tickles against Nat and the heat only grows. bites at the inside of her own cheek, wants her hand lower, gets it.
She spreads her open and spits, deliberate and perfect and hot.
Watches it drip down reddened and Natalie can’t pull her gaze away until theirs meet again, all shortened gasps of air and tingles down her spine.
Misty feels against her once, slips through her folds and a short moan from her throat and she’s staring up. Nat stares back, moves back against her subtly like it’s a chase, as if she’s the one offering this and doesn’t desperately need it now, she’s the one teasing it.
“You want it, Quigley? Come on, clean me up, come on”
And Misty’s the one whining for it
“Yes. Oh. Oh Natalie you’re so stunning. God i-“ She moans out again, hurriedly spits again and dives her face forwards like their lives depend on the meeting of their skin.
It’s slow licks at first, her tongue hesitant across Natalie’s slit taking in the first bits of blood that have built up and Nat hears her swallow in between the subtle squelching wet sound as Misty politely collects like she’d been given a full course meal.
Nat thinks for a moment if she really should find this more off putting. If Misty’s over eagerness and decided practically and fucking shiny pools of endless what—affection, fascination, obsession, servitude?—in her eyes should make her want to step away and just deal with her own problems in whatever normal way they can out here like anyone else would. Anyone else would tell Misty to fuck off as soon as she proposed it, freak.
And Misty wouldn’t ask anyone else.
Nat’s hand reaches its way down to the crown of Misty’s head and finds herself gripping on tight to those frizzy strands just as Misty’s tongue really dips inside of her, pulling a whine from them both that Nat feels right down her center.
And those eyes are back on her, still too deep and sincere and absolutely ravenous now in a way that makes Natalie feel both like the main dish of a banquet feast and revered beyond anything she’d ever felt. Like Misty could let herself dig in and eat her whole and put her back together again with that look, like she wanted to, like it would be worship either way.
Pushes Misty a little deeper, harder against her and is rewarded with another high pitched squeak of a moan felt from the inside out.
Misty’s nose swipes across her clit, the contact wet and frictionless with thick dark blood mixed now in shamefully slick arousal between the bit of pressure it provides. Misty’s eyes hesitantly flick away only so she can angle her head downward and push her tongue ever deeper, the hot focused strokes of it against every one of her inner walls pulling noises from the back of Nat’s throat that she tries to push down in the open morning air of the forest.
Natalie’s head falls back, staring up at branches against the backdrop of palest blue sky for only a moment before her eyes droop closed.
Can’t think of anything but how close Misty is, inside, swirling and caressing and— “oh god, yes”—maybe she’s meant for this, what her mouth’s for, maybe she should never be anywhere else.
Nat can feel her swallows now. The shallow intakes of breath ghosting up against her hot flesh. The tiny whisper of whimpers when Misty finds those especially tender parts just inside of her and Nat can’t help but pull harshly on her hair as she presses and pushes against them with the fat of her tongue. Moaning.
“Fuck. Misty, please,” she huffs out, not sure exactly what she’s pleading for. looking back down to her as Misty shifts just slightly on her knees. Her hands shooting up to graze softly up Natalie’s bare backside and then find a firm steadying hold on each of her hips.
She backs her face away just barely, the heady scents of iron and arousal and the full sloppy lapping sounds echoing out from between them becoming all the more dizzying as Misty licks between her folds again and circles wetly around her clit.
Giving quick little suckles that make Natalie’s hips jump in her grasp involuntarily before she fully unlatches herself. She looks back up to her slowly, reverently, and Nat feels her legs start to weaken for the first time at the sight of Misty covered in her. Red dripping from her chin and collecting in a pretty layer on her already rosy cheeks and nose, small smudges on the bottom parts of her glasses and streaking the front bits of her curls, mouth slicked and slightly swollen and full of it.
It should remind Natalie of far too much. The result of a swinging axe. Misty beside her, tearing and chewing and filling herself full just as frantically. Shaky bodies and the thick quiet musked air that was meant to have held a babies cry. Drippings on snow.
But Misty’s licking her lips, only greedily pulling more of it inside before a small, sweet, almost delirious smile appears on them. Opposite of when Misty simply bares her teeth for the world to see. The kind that’s rare, the kind that’s so real and honest Nat thinks she could choke on it. From Natalie alone, for Natalie’s eyes alone, and that reminds her of nothing else.
Misty’s hands move softly again, finding their way to the bottom of Nat’s belly just before the line of hair begins. The warmth of them finding and pressing in just slightly right on top of the ache makes Nat squeeze around nothing, feels the callouses of Misty’s soothing fingers and a whine leaves her mouth before she can stop it.
Misty studies the place where they touch like she’ll write a thesis about it, tilting her head in the smallest of ways.
It takes everything in Nat not to just tighten her numbing grip and push her forwards again, get her closer again. wants the touch to come back easy and hot, the growing floaty sentiment pulling on something too tight in her chest. Opts instead to give Misty’s head a gentle scratch in hopes it will break her out of whatever mental circle she’s put herself in.
Something works, Misty’s blown eyes flick back up to meet hers before she speaks
“And you’re having cramps? i read once that experiencing orgasms can help relieve them to a large degree. So if you want me to keep going and use my-“
“Yes Misty, just- yeah” Natalie interrupts, mind brushing past how Misty possibly thought it would end there, that she’d have to convince her when Nat could feel the new spill down her thighs at the mere act of Misty’s thumbs pressing in and massaging from the outside.
Misty’s smile turns to something almost devious at that, and Nat wants to curse herself for finding it entirely too hot before she finds it any shade of unnerving. Blames Misty’s hands traveling to the backs of her thighs and squeezing in her light steady way, anything.
“You’re being so good for me, you know”
oh
Then one of Misty’s hands is going lower, finding the warmth between her thighs and fingers circling.
“Perfect, Nat” She purrs out, moans
And Natalie can’t even think about the odd extra shot of heat the words send up her spine, the slight new gravel to Misty’s voice, the entrapping softness of the words. Doesn’t know if she likes it, likes it too much.
Before Misty’s plunging into her with two fingers all at once, deep and stroking and Nat doesn’t know where any of it comes from now, the fresh moans of her own out into the open air and the way shes dripping helplessly on Misty’s fingers, clenching around her hard like she could pull her any deeper.
“Do you like that?”
Misty’s voice is intense and sweet, still odd, tender in a way Nats not sure she knows how to hold. Wants to laugh, cry, tears threatening to pour down her cheeks just as Misty thrusts out and in again. The pads of her fingers heavy against all the right spots and Nat struggles to hold onto her breath. Nods
“Yeah. Yeah, more” the wetness sneaks into her words more like breathing than talking. Misty notices, Misty nods
Picks up her pace inside of her, pounding and caressing and adding a third and the heat, the stretch feels so right that Misty has to hold Nat’s slowly thrusting hips steady with her other hand to keep fucking her right.
Misty leans forward again and her lips are back on her, placing sweet kisses to Natalie’s blood and arousal wet thighs and mapping her way to one on her clit, then short consistent suckles and laps of her tongue as her fingers find a slightly slower, pushier rhythm to fill her with over and over and
“Oh fuck. Misty” Natalie’s close. fists her palm against Misty’s head, pushing, pulling. The heat from every bit of Misty’s touch travels throughout her body and all she wants is Misty closer, harder, all of her. Like this is all hers, not a queen or a provider or a sacrifice, takes and is given to, eats and is eaten, guilty and close and clinging. She moans lowly, “Misty”
Misty gives one more lick, tongue flat and savoring before she replaces it with her quick stroking thumb. Looks up to Nat with an even fresher fierceness and Nat gets closer in every way she can, Misty deeper inside of her at every thrust
“You feel so good, take me so well. I knew you’d feel better Natalie” the words puff sultry against Nat’s heated skin and she pulses around her, the words burrowing just as deeply as the touch, too much. More more more, not slowing down. “So pretty, so good Nat. Got you, i got you”
Lines up her pinkie and arches all of them inside of her, pushing and stretching and squelching, her thumb flicking wet and constant and strong and Natalie can feel every inch of her. Breath heaving and full quiet choked moans escaping her parted lips when she finally erupts with it all, euphoric and relieving and everything she needs, wants, chases after. Her hips rocking, twitching. Getting lost in it.
Squeezing tight around Misty’s slowing, drenched fingers as she breathes deeper and comes down from it, eyes closed tight. Misty’s fingers pump once more, leave her empty and fluttering and sighing. The wet messed hand slips down and into hers, smears blood with the gentle strokes of her thumb. A light pressure as if she needs to be reminded that Misty’s there, what she’d give for her.
The pulse of deep pain softens along with the touch and Natalie has to fight to hold her legs steady now at Misty’s wet tongue licking long stripes up her thighs, Nat’s eyes finally open to land on her planting a worshipping kiss to each, finding the original drip and kissing, cleaning it all of the way up from her foot in a purposeful bow.
One more squeeze of her hand and a flash of those eyes and the tears start to prick at the corners of Natalie’s again, a threat. too soft, split open, too good.
“Natalie?”
She loosens her hold on Misty, freeing her hair and tracing her fingers down Misty’s jaw, then neck. Finds the collar of her shirt and tugs hard until she’s standing before her with wide searching eyes and an open, slick bloodied mouth, stumbling for her balance only a little.
The withdraw of it leaves Nat feeling like something unlinked, like the pressure dropped at the squeak of her name and the only way she could possibly balance it out was to find that mouth again, shove it against hers and inspect her work with the swipe of her tongue.
That relief again, washing over her and burrowing its way inside softer than a high at every one of Misty’s little mewls, at her pressing back just as desperate, at the shakiness between them where she still grips Misty’s shirt like she’d try to move even an inch away from this.
Wet and messy and close, Nat only tugs her closer. Losing her breath and gaining Mistys. Smudging the blood over both of their faces now as they moved. Holding each other up on wobbly legs and drinking it in on satisfaction, safe necessity.
Natalie hesitantly separates their mouths and swallows the combined taste of her own blood and Misty’s spit, the balance of it sating, coating her too.
Thumbs grazing the sides of Misty’s lips where red still collects and leans their foreheads together, lightly panting breaths across each others skin. Meeting those brown eyes and feeling the weight of them, now full of soft fulfillment, still that hard desire.
And Misty looks slightly bashful now, skin still flamed beyond the matching splotches and a careful hand at Natalie’s waist. It’s kinda cute, Nat decides, shakes her head of it.
“Okay?” a light breath of a giggle escapes Misty’s mouth when she asks it, tickles across Natalie’s face. giddy, real “I mean, i’ll really have to clean you up now, but-“
“You’re fucking good at that” comes out of Nat’s mouth without a thought, still buzzing from the aftermath of Misty’s touch, mouth, breath. hers hers hers. Smiles
Misty flushes an even deeper shade, an intake of breath at Natalie’s words, a pause.
“You taste good” Misty’s grin widens again to match and Nat’s eyes flick back down to those lips “I didn’t know, because of course menstruation is more than just blood. Like, the tissue and mucus. But it actually-“
Natalie puts her hand to the back of Misty’s head and silences her save from a tiny whimper with the press of their lips. Pets down Misty’s hair and licks her bottom one, bites, slips her tongue in and feels along her teeth. Tastes it.
And if Misty started to bleed almost a week later, painful and too obvious to be hidden at the back of her pants even in the dark cover of night. And Natalie swore the water was still far too cold, no one else would have to know except the gasping heat against her tongue and the stained blanket between the both of them.