Biting your candy kiss

DISCLAIMER: The girls are not mine.


Warning: Recreational drug use.

Nothing exciting ever happened in Bayville. Not the type of excitement that saw your blood pumping to the beat and body moving like a frenzied dream among a crowd of other bodies doing exactly the same thing. Just the whole fear, pain, terror gig, which was seriously uncool. At least in Jubilee’s eyes. She wanted something shiny bright and colourful that she could hold in her hands and laugh at, instead of all the badness that seemed to be cloaked around being a mutant. Wanted to go where nobody even cared about Xavier’s because their world wasn’t even close to the real one at all. It was sparkly and glowed at the edges. Usually with the aid of certain chemical substances.

Easiest just not to come back to the mansion, radiant clothes hidden under her schoolbooks as she caught the bus to New York. There was a rave on tonight and she planned on being there. It was gonna be pumping, from what she’d heard, totally illegal and completely random in every part. The Internet, god bless it and the man who’d invented it. She could keep plugged into the news, even when she lived in the middle of surburbia nowhere, keep her finger on the pulse. New York was a different scene to the one she was used to, but a rave was a rave was a rave.

Party time.

Dark cloistered factory floor, concrete under her heels as she passed through the crowd, laughing into the maelstrom. It made her want to take a pair of scissors to her hair again and hack it until it was short and scruffy. The last time she’d done it, her parents had pitched a fit. It ruined their image. Not so much hers, except where it was a reflection of theirs. So she’d been consigned to long hair on pain of death, disaster and doom. Uptight. They needed to loosen up. Of course, that could be applied to the world at large. The thumpthump and electronic noise of the techno beat through the enclosed space. Tomorrow, there would barely be a sign that this had been here. All glittered and lit up as it was now, shifting bodies pressed together on the dance floor.

Danced her way through to the bar, ordered something pink and numbing, exhilarating. Slipped down her throat like candy, making her wriggle and coo as the world melted at the edges when she had another one. Pretty. All the boys and the girls and the girl-boys and boy-girls and whatever, all dancing and fluid on the dancefloor with the lights glittering. All the glow sticks and candy, she wanted something sweet but biting. The floor swallowed her up as she stepped onto it, hands trailing along the edges of her skimpy clothing, touching her skin as she danced. Like a many-bodied beast, hivemind collective, thinking lazy undulating thoughts as it spun around itself, hands and heat and looks and mouths and legs and sex.

Bought something off a guy, little candy shaped pill, like a tic tac in the palm of her hand as she rolled it around. Took it dry, wondering what it would feel like creeping through her veins. All the way across her body. Red pill, blue pill. Yellow pill. Pink. This had been a little blue pill, baby blue powder kinda coloured. All mild and deceptive. She hadn’t done this for so long, letting herself fall down the rabbit hole. A little like Alice, but more Asian. Prettier too, then that blondey white girl who sniffled and whined her way across Wonderland. Hell, she would have had the time of her life. Laughed wildly as the colours bled and the world spun when she danced, hips swaying to the beat and feeling it pulse through her like a metronome. Like her heartbeat. It was her heartbeat. It was everybody’s heartbeat. Beating. All. The. Way. Across. Her. Skin.

Slid through hands, not wanting to stop, no one interesting enough, not enough sparks. No fireworks. She liked fireworks – they came out of her hands. Had to tell them no right now. No fireworks in the club. Shh. World moving dizzy under her feet, nearly tripping on the heels and feeling herself throw her hands forward to keep her balance. Laughing. She could hear herself laughing, from far off and through a mirror. Caught herself on someone, black in the middle of the colour like an ebony cat caught in a flower garden of neon, vinyl under her hands and a breast that more then overfilled the palm of her hand.

“Whoops!”

Bit her glossed lips and licked them as she stared at someone she wasn’t expecting to see. The point being of coming to the rave, that she wouldn’t be reminded of Bayville. Wanda Maximoff. Not someone she ever really wanted to see. And now she had her hand on the girl’s tit. Oops. Not that Wanda...exactly...seemed...to mind.

Ankh flash.

Wanda’s mouth was sweet as candy, her hands rough as a cat’s claws as they scraped down Jubilee’s sides. She lost time. It was, it was, it was drowning. Being towed under. The drugs and the alcohol made it hard to think, concentrate, focus, and Wanda’s fingers skating under the hem of her skirt and pushing away the silky fabric of her thong made it even harder. Except on the fingers, slim and probing at exactly the right spots. Clutched at slick vinyl and moaned into the biting sweetness of the other girl’s mouth, rotating her hips in small circles. Tasted Wanda’s tongue moving slickly over her own. She hadn’t known Wanda swung this way. Most of the time, she didn’t either. Tonight was special. Wanda was special. The drug racing through her veins danced, and she spun with it.

Somehow they were outside. Night air cool after the cloistered air of the club, and Jubilee gasped as Wanda pushed her up against a wall. The brick scratched her back. She’d be wearing the marks for days. Like claw scratches on her back. Wanda was such a cat, all sleek and black and biting. Breathed to moan, moaned to breathe. She couldn’t tell which way it went. Felt her own hands scrabble across the slick of Wanda’s clothes, as fingers slid up the inside of her legs underneath her miniskirt. Wanted, everything. Kissed, breathed her in as they ground against each other. Hasty, desperate. Like being felt up by a boy in the backseat of his car real fast because curfew was coming up.

Wanda made her see fireworks, pushing over the edge with a twitch of her fingers and scrape of her long nails against Jubilee’s clit. Sparked, like electricity. So primed, she’d been ready for forever.

“Oh yeah, baby, baby, baby,” Jubilee moaned, pushing her hips down and grinding into the flickering touch of Wanda’s hand under her skirt. She licked at the side of the other girl’s neck, tasting sweat and make up, and something kinda sweet. Glittery tipped fingers slid down the front of Wanda’s pants, groping for the button that would make her explode. Coarse curls filled the inside of her palm, and she giggled, fingers finally reaching the slick folds underneath them. Wanda’s mouth inhaled her laughter, made her wonder if it would help the girl lighten up. Maybe just a little.

Could a person really eat light? Wanda made her feel like she could feed her with it, let some of her brightness pass through her mouth into the other girl’s body. Warm her up from the inside.

She could feel the warmth rushing through her body once again, the heat. The indescribable sense of potential bliss. Wanda’s fingers had never stopped moving, playing her like a playable thing. Some instrument. Guitar, maybe. Tambourine. Sparkly shiny tangle of feeling, all over her body like electric net. Felt Wanda buck and grind against her fingers, and kept giggling into the black lip-sticked candy kiss. Liquorice. No, black cherry.

Chica cherry cola.

Felt wet and slick on her fingers as she ground her hips forward and back against the probing press of Wanda’s hand. Honey, honey, sugar, darling, candy. Sunshine, sex and lollipops. Felt Wanda shudder, heard her curse, kept her fingers moving. Felt her breathe heavy against her skin, mouth biting and kissing like no one else. Like it had to hurt a little to make it really good for her. Mewled as two fingers slid between her folds and right up inside her, struggling for breath as she drowned in the heat.

Liquid. Beautiful. Wanda was beautiful. The way the light from her earring spun, the black shade of her hair. The curve of her mouth. Beautiful.

It made her wonder what Wanda saw when she looked back at the girl she had pressed up against the brick. Blue eyes, black hair, yellow coat. Mouth wet and red from biting at it. From being kissed. Glittery shine along her face like stars.

Better to just think about the taste of her mouth, and the way her fingers were moving. In time to the music, the spin, the dance. Everything was moving. It was wonderful, the way the stars were swirling over head as she cried out, again. Wanda had magic fingers. She felt almost bruised, shaken. Wondered what the day after would be like. If they’d even refer to it, or if it would just be like secret knowledge between the two of them. Heavy. Waiting. Sly.

Nobody at the Institute would believe her, even if she told them. Wanda Maximoff was a cypher, a mystery, angry girl rioting against the world. They would never believe she could be like this, soft and heavy and sweet. Hurting too, but that was just part of the fun. The scratches and bruises she’d carry away, since the scent of Wanda, the musky salt smell, would wash off her hand real quick. Felt Wanda buck and grind against her fingers, and moan into her mouth.

It was the Fourth of July.

Fireworks, exploding behind her eyes once more. But not, thankfully, from her hands. That could have been embarrassing. Oh yeah, I gave Wanda Maximoff third degree burns in her pussy. How? Um. Gee. Totally not of the groovy. Yeah, didn’t want to explain that sort of thing ever. Totally not ever. She was pretty sure Wanda wouldn’t want it to happen either.

Wanda shuddered and pushed against her hand, and Jubilee felt wetness slick all over her skin. Sharp moan like Wanda didn’t really want to make it or admit it that Jubilee had just made her come. Panted against her, feeling weak and trembly as they were locked in each other’s arms like a bad Hallmark moment. Though, the people who designed the cards had never really thought about lesbianism, she was sure. Maybe they’d be better for it. Wanda stepped away from her, leaving her clinging to the wall instead and feeling the slickness on her thighs and wet soaking the thin strand of her thong that Wanda had pushed aside with her nails. She couldn’t catch her breath, as Wanda turned, hair fanning out as she flicked her head and headed back for the club.

Jubilee closed her eyes, and leant the side of her hot face against the coolness of the brick. And then she followed Wanda back inside. She wouldn’t see her again, she was certain of it. But the ache along her back and inside made her remember with every twinge. Dancing would make sure she remembered all night long.

And taste that darkly sweet candy kiss again and again.