Chapter Text
‘I promise’. Such a strange (and annoying!) phrase. It seems so small and insignificant, but the second it leaves your mouth, it lingers on your tongue. It becomes a sort of moral contract; you must go through with a promise.
So when Kate had begged you to go clubbing with her last week and you said, “Okay, okay, I’ll come. I promise,” you had royally fucked yourself over. You know you didn’t want to go then, and you definitely don’t want to be here right now. But you had given your word. And you, for all of your social awkwardness and hesitation, cannot walk away from a promise. Even if you really, really, really want to.
This conundrum was how you found yourself standing outside ‘The Phoenix’, a club in lower Manhattan, that you had passed repeatedly without trying to enter. A black keyhole dress (that you did not want to wear) sat tightly on your body and you repeatedly tugged at the bottom of it trying, in vain, to pull it further down your thigh as you gnawed at your bottom lip. The harsh red glow of the club sign illuminates the slight distress on your face as you begin to debate whether or not this is worth it.
You could turn around right now and leave. You could be home in 20 minutes, in your pyjamas with Lumo purring in your lap as you watch reruns of sitcoms from the early 2000s. That sounds like a brilliant idea, one that you can get behind and actually really wanted to do-
“Y/N, you’re doing that thing where you’re thinking too much again,” her friend Kate drawls as she takes a puff from the cigarette in her mouth. A bemused smile stretches across her lips as she gently squeezes your arm, “You can’t back out now, we’re already here!”
Your grimaced expression makes her laugh.
“Come on it’ll be fun,” she sing songs, gently shaking you in an attempt to distract you from your nerves.
“I’m not too sure”, you huff in response.
Kate’s face softens as she turns to face you, “you know I care about you right?”
You are touched by her sudden warmth.
“We won’t be this young and hot forever, you know,” she gives you a dramatic pout before you both burst out laughing.
“Ok, fine. We’ll go in,” you conceded with your hands up in exaggerated surrender.
___________
It was only after going to the bar and learning that the cheapest cocktail was £50 that you learnt the kind of establishment Kate had brought you too. However, this was just the first piece of the jigsaw.
At first, you had just assumed the club was expensive in that pseudo-pretentious way: a steep drink cost, a red velvet interior, a VIP line etc. Typical stuff in Manhattan for influencers who pretend to be richer than they are and post pictures for their thousands of followers on instagram.
But, then you started looking at the clientele of this club properly. Not just at their clothing, but the authority and ease with which they moved.
A woman handing her coat to an attendant who immediately moves to place it on a hanger in the corner. A man who orders a drink without even glancing at the menu. The women perched on people’s laps, laughing way too hard and constantly refilling their champagne flutes.
Oh my god. Kate had not taken her to a nightclub. This was a member’s club.
Which begged the question: did she know?
Kate’s smug grin answers that question immediately.
“Kate, oh my god,” you hiss, “you didn’t include that this is a rich-person club!”
“You say that like they’re a different species…”
“They are!”
You look around nervously, suddenly feeling even more out of your depth.
She hands you a cocktail glass, leaning casually against the bar, “You promised. Stay.”
Ugh. Promise. Hate that word.
______
You stick to Kate’s side like an extra appendage for about an hour, using her confidence to mingle with other people in the club. You try to ignore your hammering heart as you make small talk with people that had probably spent more on their outfits than your rent. Who are you kidding - they definitely had.
Kate has started talking to some Russian woman with a blonde shaggy haircut and you begrudgingly know that you shouldn’t cock-block your best friend by standing next to her like a lost puppy. You walk back to the bar and ask for another cocktail, giving Kate a thumbs up and a grin when she glances over the blonde’s shoulder to check that you’re okay.
You really don’t want to sit at the bar all night looking like a loser.
You steel yourself and think of a plan: Find someone interesting. Approach them. Have a conversation. Maybe flirt a little.
As you glance at the crowd of people, you lock eyes with a man who gives you a lecherous grin and crooks his fat finger at you, summoning you to his booth. There are already two girls with him, who are now giving you death glares. You shudder and quickly look away.
Find someone interesting. Approach them.
Kate is now making out with the shaggy blonde Russian lady. You feel a pang of jealousy.
Have a conversation. Maybe flirt a little. Or… go home?
“You look like you’re deciding whether to stay or escape.”
You turn and feel the air get sucked out of your lungs. A woman is perched on the bar stool next to you, her body leaning towards yours with nonchalant confidence. Her hair was a light, chestnut red and it fell around her shoulders with an effortless softness. Her green eyes were equally as soft, almost nurturing, as she bore into you. Your cheeks flush gently and your hand shakes slightly as you bring the cocktail back up to your lips.
“I haven’t decided yet,” you admit with a slight shrug.
The beautiful red-haired woman chuckles softly, “about staying?”
“Honestly, about whether or not coming here was a bad decision”
She tilts her head slightly to the left and a small smile tugs at her rouged lips, “was it? A bad decision?”
You can feel her lean closer. She smells like vanilla. You are worried she can hear your heart thundering in your chest.
“I’m not sure. I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb here,” you say.
“You do a little bit. You seem very nervous, darling.”
You chuckle uncomfortably and glance over at Kate, who is still kissing that blonde Russian lady.
The redhead follows your gaze and waves at the blonde, who whispers into Kate’s ear. Her mouth drops in shock before she looks at you both and she shoots two thumbs up. The pair go back to whispering and giggling. Wonder what that is about.
“Your friend chose this place?”
Turning back to face the redhead you nod.
“It doesn’t seem like your kind of… vibe,” she thinks carefully of how to word it nicely. But it doesn’t feel condescending, it feels more like a perception.
“This may sound really childish, but I made a promise.”
This earns another small smile from the redhead.
“Wanda.”
You furrow your brows in confusion.
“My name is Wanda.”
“Oh! Y/N. That’s my name.”
You groan inwardly at your awkwardness.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” she drawls.
There’s a glimmer of something in her eye. Something primal, maybe even lustful? No way. There’s no way. You’re reading into this too much. As you begin to overthink, she places a hand on your thigh.
Ok. She’s definitely flirting. But you’re short-circuiting.
“There you are.”
You both turn and you find yourself looking at another beautiful redhead approaching the bar. Her eyes shift between you and the woman next to you. Not with suspicion. With curiosity. Like a cat playing with a mouse. A shudder runs down your spine.
“I was wondering where you went, moya lyubov” she leans and kisses the redhead woman, Wanda, gently on her head.
“I wasn’t far.”
Wanda’s hand does not leave your thigh.
What the fuck?
“I know.”
The other redhead looks at you, her eyes bore into you the way Wanda’s did, “And who is this cutie?”
You feel a rush of heat shoot to your core.
“Nat, Y/N. Y/N, Nat.”
‘Nat’ smiles at you, “nice to meet you, Y/N”
Wanda gives you a sickenly sweet grin, “I found her looking like a lost lamb sat at the bar. Couldn’t possibly leave her all alone.”
You sigh.
“You’re making it sound way worse than it was.”
Wanda raises her eyebrows in mock shock, “Am I?”
Nat signals the bartender over with a gesture and orders drinks for herself and Wanda as she settles into the empty stool next to you.
“Stay for one more.”
You blink.
“What?”
Wanda’s hand squeezes your thigh as she drawls, “have one drink with us.”
You feel both their eyes on you, waiting expectantly.
“Okay, one drink.”
Nat ushers the bartender back.
“And one for our little lamb”
You feel heat explode across your cheeks.
________
You notice, after a while, that you have stopped thinking about leaving. Well, you couldn’t really think about anything with both women’s hands on your thighs and their attention so raptly on you. They listened to you ramble about your English thesis, teased you when you would blush at their flirtatious comments, and were getting impossibly closer to you.
They told you about themselves. They travelled often, they owned holiday homes in multiple countries. They spoke about restaurants, galleries and places you had only seen in articles and magazines. And, admittedly, there was a bit of arrogance in it. They were showing off a bit. But, you liked it. You were enamoured with their kind of lifestyle; it was something you would never be able to experience yourself.
At some point, the three of you moved to a booth. They were both now so close to you and Wanda’s hand was running absentmindedly through your hair.
“You are so beautiful, malen’kiy yagnenok (little lamb),” Natasha husks gently.
You turn to face her, her face inches from yours.
“What does that mean?”
“Little lamb.”
You giggle, “why do you keep calling me that?”
She glances down at your lips and licks her own, you can feel her breath on your face.
“Because you’re our little lamb,” she drawls.
You look up at her, your thighs squeezing together as you feel the tension about to explode. Wanda coos gently, watching you struggle to keep yourself contained.
“Can I kiss you, malen’kiy yagnenok?”
You nod eagerly, making both women chuckle.
Wanda moves her lips to your ear, “use your words printessa (princess).”
You feel heat coil in the bottom of your stomach.
“Yes, Nat. Please kiss me.”
Her lips are on yours in an instant, incessant and hungry. You bite back a moan as she presses herself against you. You hear Wanda exhale a shaky breath as the two of you kiss. Nat is forceful, she cups your face and kisses you with lustful need. A small part of you is smug with how desperate she is. Her tongue presses against your lips and you open your mouth, moaning gently as her hand slips into the back of your hair, anchoring you to her.
When you both pull away, your chest is heaving and your legs are quivering. Wanda’s hand gently cups your chin as she turns your face to hers and presses a needy kiss onto your lips. She is much gentler than Natasha, but equally as passionate. She moans into your mouth as the kiss intensifies.
“You have no idea how long we’ve wanted to do this printessa,” Wanda husks.
Your body is alight. Both women have their hands on you, caressing you and whispering filthy things into your ears.
Nat wantonly kisses your neck as she drawls, “Since the second you walked in here with your friend.”
You are putty in their hands; static clouds your mind.
Your eyes open to find both of them flushed, their pupils blown. They look like predators, about to eat their prey. Two wolves about to eat a little lamb. The thought makes you drenched.
“Please,” you whine, “need you both so bad.”
Wanda glances at Natasha, they seem to have a conversation just by looking at each other.
Natasha grins at you, “are you gonna be a good girl for us?”
You nod aggressively, “yes.”
Wanda presses a chaste kiss to your lips, “do you promise?”
“I promise.”