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Tamara wants to consume Tori. She wants Tori in every way that exists. She dreams of their bones connecting, their veins fusing, their skin melting to conglomerate into one. Since they moved in together after high school, they haven't separated. They attend everything together. The only time they'd ever had an extended period of time away from each other since then was when Tamara had visited home for Thanksgiving a year ago. Tamara and her brother, Tom, returned home, reminded of their failures in their youth and of their refusal to visit family again.
Tamara had been exhausted from their work day and chose to have a few shots. Tori had refused to participate, not really liking alcohol, and instead remained sober. Tam rests her head against Tori's chest, giggling to herself about a video her lover showed her. The redhead had an arm under and around her hip, fingers trailing along her waist. The empty-eyed woman tries to silence her quiet moan, but the alcohol has loosened her. Tori knows her body better than she does and smirks. Her nails drag a little harder, leaving scratches in their wake.
"Don't do that. You know they'll get really hot and well up."
"But I quite like that you're so easy to mark up."
Tamara groans, hiding her face in the other's chest. They never argued, not really. Tamara thinks the day they do, she'll crumble into little pieces shaped like stars. Proof to everyone that they were right about her not being human.
"Don't know why I'm so worked up. You didn't even do anything. 'M sorry..." She whispers. A hand tangles in her hair, giving a soft tug to pull her up to face the redhead.
"It's in your nature. You know, the nature that I love? As much as I love all of you?" Her smile is tender, but her eyes are distant. Tamara hates it. Something else is taking up her mind, leaving not enough space for her. She worries she'll turn into sand and fall through her usually so possessive grasp.
"I know, ma'am." Her voice is softer than usual, hoping that if she's kind, Tori's focus will return to her. Tori likes it when she's sweet, kind, and easy to fuck over. So she'll play that part. But instead, her red brows furrow, leaving a pit in Tamara's stomach.
"You're off, right now. What's going through that pretty little head of yours?" Tori is kind. Much too kind. She deserves more. Deserves someone worthy. She tries to pull herself out of that feeling, but it stays, thick and heavy in her chest.
"Not much. Prommy. Just want you to touch me..." Tori loves physical touch, but Tam isn't sure she loves it when it's her. She sees her with friends, with family, with strangers. She can never get Tori to touch her as she does them. It feels like termites in her skin.
She watches as the horned woman tilts her head, stroking her face. She's worried. Tamara hates seeing her worried. That means her facade is cracking, and she'll show soon. Showing will make her leave. She forces her head into the other's grasp, making her hold the brunette. She smiles, a hiccup rising. Her redhead's face is so gentle, so tender. "Are you sure?"
Why question? Of course, Tamara was fine with it. She was fine every other time with the hitting, smacking, and bruising. Why does she question now? What did she do wrong? Where did she step out of line? "Of course, I'm sure. I miss feeling you."
"You can feel me now."
"You're not close enough."
"You never think I am."
Tamara grips Tori tightly, trying to distract her from continuing the conversation. The blue-eyed woman seems to understand her desperation, her hands reaching for the other's shirt. It's raised above her head, leaving her shirtless because she had gone without a bra. She wriggles off her jeans and down to her true, nude form. She does her best to ignore the bile that rises in her throat from what she can see.
Tamara loves everything Tori loves, so why does she hate herself? This deep, burning hatred wouldn't exist if the horned woman loved her. She knows this as fact. So obviously, everything must be a lie. She hoped that one day, with all the guidance and shaping from Tori, she'd be beautiful. The other woman's hands hold her hips, caressing the small dip that naturally lies there. "Gorgeous. My perfect girl."
She tries to avoid the tears that start to beg for release, instead reaching in for a kiss. Kisses weren't demanding or disgusting from her. Tori was very passionate about kissing. So she trusted herself to help her enjoy that. Her mouth was as hungry and ambitious as she was. It had to be with how she spoke of ruling the world. Tamara knew it was only a joke, but her passion remained a staple in her personality nonetheless.
She can feel as Tori flips her onto her back, her long red-brown hair draping over them like a blackout curtain. Maybe it's best for the world not to see this. As she starts to kiss her neck, Tam reaches for the hem of her shirt to pull it up. This earns her a sharp, nasty bite on her neck. The other woman licks it as an apology. "I'm taking my time with you tonight. My pace, ja?" Her voice is husky in a way that makes it so that the brunette can't even begin to think about arguing. Her brain melts out of her ears and onto the sheets below her. She can feel it stain, the liquid likely black and almost ichor from how depraved and disgusting her mind is.
Tori resumes on her neck, taking breaks to pepper sweet kisses on the expanse under her chin. Tamara wonders if the other woman knows she's ticklish. Probably not. It's a passing comment from several months ago now. Most people don't listen to or remember what she said an hour ago. It should remain that way. She comes in and out of thought, paying attention to strange noises from the other woman and harsh touches. "You're spacey today."
"Sorry."
"Something's wrong with you."
"I know."
"You won't tell me."
"It's for the best."
Tori shakes her head in frustration, watching the empty-eyed woman's expression. Tamara doesn't like the attention. She hasn't earned it. She looks away. "You can go back now, ma'am." Tori slams her hand just past Tam's head, smacking the bed.
"You're not telling me something, and it's making you act off. This is your last chance to tell me." The brunette's body freezes up, and it feels like the floor has been pulled out from under her. Tori was finally coming to her senses and realizing what people had been telling her for the past few years. Tamara had overstayed her welcome in Tori's grasp and was now being cast out for bigger, better things.
She snapped out of the short spiral when the buffer woman pulled her into an embrace, leaning back against the headboard. She forces the head of the brunette into her shoulder, taking the time to gently pet her. "You're all in your head today. You're worrying me. I want good things for you, and I want to touch you, but I'm incredibly worried about your mental state."
Tamara's shoulders shudder slightly, and the dam finally breaks. She sinks into her lover and sobs. It's dramatic, ugly, and selfish. "I'm sorry, I can't stop..." She needs to beg for forgiveness. Needs to pray to her savior not to be abandoned. But she stares like all of this is confusing. Tam tries to get out anything, something of substance, but all that comes out are blubbers. She's the worst. This is the worst. She should be better than this.
"Kjære, we aren't going to continue until you can tell me in your own words what's going on. This is for your safety." The brunette sinks back into her chest and continues to cry. Why today of all days? They'd gone years with her keeping this all tucked inside, away in a little cave in her heart where bad things went to be hidden.
"I can be good... I'll make you feel good... just let me..." Her hands are smacked away from anything, and she's earned herself a sharp look from her dearly beloved. The hollow in her chest that Tori could only fill is growing, and she knows her greed is beyond saving. She can't be redeemed. How dare she think so?
"You're distressed and drunk."
"You touch me when I'm drunk all the time?"
"Because you're never this... out of it. In all the years I've known you, you've been very composed. I've never seen you sob like this, not for anything." Her hands wipe away the tears still pooling from Tamara's eyes.
"This is selfish. I shouldn't have to bother you with this." She hates the way her voice sounds, husky and ruined. The brunette's shoulders still shudder, her body still exposed. She hates that look of pity in Tori's eyes. She isn't to be pitied. Why can't she just use her and leave like normal? This isn't fair.
"It's not selfish. You listen to me complain for hours at a time about menial and stupid things, and in the five years we've spent hanging out together, I don't think I've ever heard a single gripe from you. You prioritize me in everything, and the only time I've ever been able to decipher a need is by accident and from your brother. Don't you think that's a little odd? I'm worried about you."
Tamara shakes her head, worrying her lip between her teeth. She's not sure where to go from here. "It just wasn't that important to me. I don't think it matters all that much..."
"It matters to me!" The redhead yells, wincing once she remembers their roommates are sleeping downstairs. "Sorry, I don't mean to yell." Tori places her hands gently on the other's shoulders, meeting her gaze. "I'm going to take care of you tonight. If you feel uncomfortable, want something else, or need something, you'll tell me. Understood?"
Tamara hiccups through her tears, nodding as she wipes them away with her wrists.
"I want words."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I'm not ma'am tonight. I know you're just doing it to be polite, but tonight it's just Tori."
Her hands lay Tamara on her back, pinning her slightly mangled wrists above her head. Tori smiles, kissing down her face and chest. The redhead strips her clothes, revealing a strap that she had been packing the entire time. How hadn't she felt it? Before she's able to internally degrade herself, it's pressed up against her stomach. Tori smirks, pressed at the top of where her strap ends. "Deep enough to put a baby in you. Have you thought about it?"
"We're both girls, it's not possible."
"That doesn't matter right now. Have you thought about it?"
Tamara breathes deep, unable to really register much. How was she meant to explain to her that she had their entire lives planned together? She had a journal tucked away with everything she had ever dreamed up. How was she also meant to tell her that it was all in her head and deep down she knew she'd never be worthy of whatever fantasy she'd cooked up. "In passing." She settles on.
Tori smiles in response, patting her belly. When Tamara looks up at her, distracted, her lover takes the opportunity to place the tip of the strap on to where all the heat lies and presses inside. Tam mewls out from under her, knees pulling up towards her chest. Normally, the redhead would force up her legs, take her however she wanted, and enjoy watching her stretch. Today, her hands are gentle as she brings them back down, positioning the brunette's thighs around her waist.
"Need you locked around me. Can't take any chances, ja?" The empty-eyed woman's face goes beet red. Her arms wrap around Tori's neck, pulling her down so they lie chest to chest, shirt to exposed breast. She should be more embarrassed than this, but after having been with her long enough, this is very normal. It still hurts to make eye contact with the skin that surrounds her bones, but she'll keep quiet about it.
Her head is immediately drawn away from everything, and she is taken to heaven. The full feeling from the strap, the push and pull of it inside her, Tori's hands gripping, it's all too much. Her head falls back as she kicks her legs and moans. She hopes her roommates are dead asleep. They've never had a conversation about the noise before, and she doesn't plan on having one tomorrow.
"You look so pretty like this, but I can tell you're too in your head. I'm going to help you, understand?"
Tamara nods.
"Words, Kjære."
"Yes, Tori."
"Ah! You remembered. So proud of you." She smiles, and Tam feels her heart melt. 'Of course I did,' she wants to say. She doesn't. Tori's hand reaches for her clit, taking her by surprise. She whips her head quickly to the side, gasping. She'd hate being this reactive, but she knows her other half loves it. Her slightly calloused fingers rub her tenderly, matching the speed of the strap going in and out.
Tamara can feel her brain melting again, this time, instead of a black sludge coming out, it's little stars. They dance behind her eyes, in Tori's hair, in the pretty harness she wears around her hips. For once, everything is beautiful. For once, she is beautiful.
She tries to grip Tori's arm with the sudden fervent need that takes over, but her wrists are still pinned. She whines at the grip and Tori leans in close to her ear. Her body weight is let go onto Tamara, and she moans into the other's ear. The brunette blushes, wanting more noises from her. "I think I'm close... am I allowed?"
"You're more than allowed. You'll always be allowed with me. One day, we'll get married, live together, and have a beautiful family. And I'll stay. You'll be so pretty and so sweet. You'll take care of yourself when I ask." Tamara begins to sob hysterically, whining in tandem with the feeling of Tori finally thrusting one last time and then stopping. Her brain is mush enough to imagine she really did put a baby in her. She likes the idea.
Once they've calmed down and stopped panting as much, Tori slowly slides out. Tamara doesn't whine; she knows better. The redhead unclasps the harness, setting it down to the side of the bed to clean later. She reaches over Tam to her bedside table to pull out the wipes they kept. Her touch is gentle as she wipes down her brown-haired lover. Every touch is sweet and fulfilling. It's been quite a long time, and they've settled next to each other in bed now.
"Sleep, Tam. I'll be here when you wake. We'll talk tomorrow, and I'll do this again tomorrow night if you can't get it through your pretty little head that I'm here, I love you, and that I'm staying."
Tamara nods, finally believing that for once, she might deserve this.
It made it hurt even more when Tori left the next afternoon without a word or warning.