#Thessarae x Halloran

[asassydork]

Chapter 1: The Night’s Embrace

Story: Shadows of the Forgotten

Word Count: 7.9k

Song: I Won’t Lie by Go Radio/11 Minutes by Halsey & Yungblud

Summary: In a rundown motel room, we meet Thessarae and Halloran, a recently transient couple moving motel to motel across the country looking for a sense of home that they both lost. The main reason for this journey stems from a lack of a home to go back to and the idea that they can take their relationship to the next level: becoming parents, which for this couple is a lot more complicated than it looks.

TW: NSFW, 18+, Smut, MDNI, new species of monster smut, (not edited yet and yes I did rewrite it a lot)

4 AM. Somewhere north of Seattle. Sunny Side Pines. Motel and Hideaway.

The night has been cast in an atmosphere of gloom from the heaviness of the rain that rolled in just after dinner time. The town already covered in days’ worth of rain and partial flooding now held a symphony of bigger, louder droplets. It’s the kind of rain that soaks through the bone, a reminder of where you are in the world. Just outside of Seattle.

Sunny Side Pines was a rather unusual place. It wasn’t the kind of place that drew just anybody to it. That was part of its hidden charm, the idea that it was exclusive. Perhaps, in its own ways, it was exclusive. But none of us are here to tell anyone how to run their private business. Sunny Side prides itself on its appeal. Cheap rooms for cheap stays with little amenities and a seclusion that was almost private despite the highway. It was a multi building facility, each one carrying a color and a theme. Red, Green, Blue and Purple. There’s a reason for these colors and their odd themes. These were just any transients wandering through this part of town. Most were at least part time residents who’ve called this place home for however long. It’s a part of a hidden network all around the country of businesses that cater to certain characters. Although, that always seems to draw trouble to the rooms only a few doors down. You grow used to it the more you see it. After all, as long as nobody’s getting hurt, we’re all just looking for the same thing.

Each building is painted with their color palette. The purple complex was different hues of lavender, yellow and deep purple. The theme for this building was the moon, so every door seemed to have a phase of the moon painted around the peep hole on top of the deep purple they’d gone for. It was outdated and neglected so a lot of the paint was chipped or missing, adding an eeriness to the phases of the moon. Every room comes with a sliding window and a cheap plastic table and chairs out front of it. It was very uniform in an unmistakable aesthetic. The exterior walls were lavender with certain features like the stairs painted in stark shades of yellow to make them stand out. It was a very forward facing business, half of the purple building facing the highway and viewing the neglected airport fields beyond. The sounds of jets and helicopters sounded at all hours. It mingled with the sounds of the highway, especially during rush hour and it was nearly deafening. You can’t expect anyone to be able to hear themselves think for those few short hours.

The curbs were also once painted to match the facade but they’re long chipped from use and neglect, most areas bare where people walk the most. Each room also has an air conditioner cut into the wall. Adding to the cheap uniformity. It’s here where the doors are painted deep purple with their moon phases as a stark contrast that we’ve been surviving the last few days. The exterior of the building is far more neglected than the inside but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t less than $100 a night for a reason.

The walls are thicker than traditionally expected. The mattresses are remotely newer than everything else in the room but it’s very much still trapped in the past. The floors are clearly concrete covered in thin cheap geometric carpeting that offers no comfort against the concrete. The color appears to be a dark green but some of that could just be from how dirty and old it must be. Stains litter the floor to further prove it hasn’t been deep cleaned since it was installed. The dressers combine with a desk and the odd layout is meant to represent an entertainment center but by the looks of it, they never ungraded from tube TVs so when they had to remove them, they didn’t upgrade the rooms. There were squared marks on the surface from where the TV sat for half a lifetime. The room is pretty empty. The only other furniture is the bed and a small lopsided table that wobbles when you touch it and mismatched chairs likely taken from other arrangements over the years. There are two lamps mounted on the walls next to the bed reminiscent of the 1980s like most other things in the dilapidated motel. Only one of them works and it’s the one nearest the bathroom. They added a cheap standing lamp in the corner behind the table to add some light to the room but it’s also lopsided and broken looking.

The bed is a traditional queen that underwent deep inspections before we agreed to stay. The frame is nothing more than wood under the carpet. A cheapskate’s way out of having to clean the room properly. It’s more modern but that was out of necessity than nicety. There’s no luxury here. We’re just glad that the mattress is covered in a protective wrap to keep it from becoming stained. The sheets are freshly cleaned and passed the tests we conducted to prove that. But the thin worn fabric of the bedspread they gave us was just another reminder that we weren’t anywhere near home yet. There was nothing to keep you warm, so we’ve adopted our own traditions about life on the road which involves our own good pillows and a bedspread that’s actually comfortable and warm.

There’s a radiator under the small window behind the table that rattles loudly when you turn it on. It also fills the room with dust and adds to the smell of smoke like something fell in there and burns every time it’s on. Added with the overall mildew and old smoke smells that contribute to the yellowing green wallpaper, we’ve had to leave the window cracked open with our own bar behind it to keep anybody from reaching inside. Safety in places like this is hard to come by so we’ve adopted a creative approach to a lot of the issues.

The bathroom is a hideous combination of sea blue tiles and mint green bath fixtures. It’s an eyesore to say the least. The sink has a constant drip, the toilet is extremely loud when it flushes, and the bathtub is surprisingly the cleanest surface in the whole room. They really put the extra effort into that amenity, even though there’s no shower curtain and water sprays everywhere when you get a shower. There’s also no rugs on the floor so we’re left standing on towels and dirty clothes to keep from accidentally killing ourselves on the slick surface. It’s the strangest setup I’ve ever seen but we agreed not to complain very much and just adapt to the circumstances while we’re here. It’s not like it’s permanent.

Our personal touch comes in the form of the bags atop the odd entertainment center, the jackets hanging on the backs of the chairs, the charcoal bedspread with its plush king-size comforter that drapes excess over the edges of the queen mattress, the tiny vase of fresh wildflowers on the table, the sticky notes on the bathroom mirror, the plushies sitting throughout the room, and the sheet over the window to act as a curtain over the blinds that don’t work properly. It’s an attempt to keep more of the light out.

The soft pitter patter of the rain spraying against the dirty window should’ve lulled me back to sleep hours ago. The kaleidoscope effect of the intermixed lights danced across the ceiling and the dark wall that housed the bathroom, offering a small show as cars zipped by down the highway and the vacancy sign continued to flash. Hours ticked by relentlessly as I laid in bed, awaiting Hal’s return. The meeting didn’t start until some time after midnight but it was already past 4 AM. I couldn’t help the weight of my thoughts as I went over every reason they’d find to keep us from remaining in this territory for very long. His determination to find us a civil place to live was pushing the limits of what normal people would like to provide. It’s not like we came with valuable references to ensure there won’t be future conflicts. Those kinds of things are hard to come by if they exist at all.

Hal’s a man of sophistication, despite our reasoning for living by unconventional means. Meaning, there’s a rhythm to his gait that comes from his expensive steel toed boots that I would most certainly hear from anywhere. It tickled my ear as he randomly sounded his approach, knowing I’d be listening for him. He otherwise has a silent footing about him, a languid predator. So, I didn’t catch the sound of his boots until he was already more than halfway across the parking lot, likely realizing I was awaiting his return hours ago. The rhythm of his gait across the asphalt was a small comfort. He’d really only done it so I wouldn’t be totally surprised when he opened the door. I am easily jump scared by things that really shouldn’t bother someone of my standing. But it gets me anyway.

I wondered if the long meeting was supposed to mean something or if the assholes kept him waiting the whole time. They like pressing his buttons and expecting him to remain calm. It’s sort of the reason he goes alone because he’s more collected than I am. It’s a skill of his, looking casual under pressure. He pulls it off better when I’m not there to either distract him or get in the way. I feel like I do both simultaneously all the time and I don’t even mean to.

His shadow blocks the play of lights when he’s close to the door, likely expecting me to be asleep with the way he slowly put the key in the lock and unlatched it hesitantly. He then carefully opened the door not to let too much light pour in. It was right after he closed the door behind him that he fixed the sheet over the blinds to block more of the lights on the ceiling, which just made the room darker. He was soaking wet, you could hear the sound of the water rushing off of his duck canvas jacket that he set on the back of the chair by the door. The coat created its own pitter patter of droplets that rolled onto the flat surface of the seat in an uneven rhythm. He slowly unlaced his boots and pulled them off, very meticulously about keeping them in good shape. After all, what’s a man without his affinity for expensive footwear? These boots in particular are a good friend in rain like this because they’re waterproof. He’ll likely treat them later when they’re dry to get any scuff marks off from the amount of walking he just did in them. I never really understood his need to care for his shoes so much but I stayed out of it.

He didn’t want to dredge mud and water through the small space, so he shucked his wet socks and pants over there while he was at it. It didn’t surprise me in the slightest when he decided to get a quick shower to both warm up and clean off the rain. He’s never liked the sensation of sky water on his skin. Boys can be weird sometimes.

He shook his hair out like a dog halfway to the bathroom and I tried not to snicker under my breath knowing he’d hear me and stop what he was doing. I didn’t want to get in the middle of it because he’d just get me all wet and drag me into the shower with him. So, I waited until he was in the shower to fluff his pillow and fold back the blankets on his side so it would be easier for him to slide in next to me.

I ran my legs on his side of the bed to see if the friction would give it some warmth because the bed was rather cold in its neglect. Thankfully, though, his shower wasn’t more than a few short minutes because he was exhausted. By the way he walked out of the shower with a towel around his waist and then over his head to dry his wild hair, I realized the meeting didn’t go well, like most of them haven’t. It was an impossible favor to ask people who clearly don’t get what we’re asking or why we’re asking it. But it’s been his objective without me, so I can’t do much more than listen to his interpretation of what their problems are. Most of them, it comes off as a disloyal untrustworthy bunch of nobody’s who couldn’t protect themselves, let alone new neighbors. He has too much faith in people and I keep trying to explain to him that it doesn’t work that way. But I let him be optimistic because it’s far from what I am. I don’t like being the one crushing his thunder and sunlight. I want good things to happen but I’m just used to this being the turnout.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks in a whisper as he leans over the bed to kiss my forehead.

“You know I don’t like sleeping without you,” I whisper back as he moves towards the door to check the locks. He’s very big on double checking our safety measures, which means he always checked the window before letting himself climb into bed with me. He tossed the towel in the pile across the room.

“You were tired when I left,” he whispers, climbing into bed lazily, moving towards me knowingly.

“Tired and sleeping are different things,” I chuckled, kissing his nose lightly. “I thought you’d be back by now, anyway.” I brush my fingers through his long dark, warm but wet hair and lightly scratch the soft spot behind his right ear.

He playfully nips at my palm and then my fingers for the gesture. “I did too.” He sighs noticeably and kind of obnoxiously for dramatic effect, “Just beating around another bush.”

“Huh,” I say, curious then for the state of his fingers because his choice of words was a little funny.

I could smell the blood on his fingers and realized that was part of the reason for his shower. He had to get the scent of his fight off his skin so I wouldn’t find it offensive and ask a thousand questions.

I kissed his bloodied knuckles and felt the softness of bruises there. Nothing was broken on either hand but he used them both equally. I wasn’t surprised a fist fight broke out. These people are the bad kinds of people they warn you about in school to stay away from. They’re all the same no matter where in the country you run into them. We were just lucky they cling together and aren’t usually out here on the streets causing trouble. It doesn’t mean I trust the process.

“You know, I prefer these in pristine shape,” I complain, holding both of his hands by the fronts of his fingers. I brush my cheek against both sets of knuckles.

“Stop being weird,” he complains, pulling his hands from my hold. “I was defending myself this time. I have a right to that.” He was lying but I didn't get into it. Tonight wasn’t the night. If he wanted to tell me some crazy story, I just let him. He’d eventually give me the whole truth because that’s how this works.

“Just be careful,” I whisper, kissing him on the lips lightly, lingering for a sip of him. “I need you in one piece.”

“I know,” he whispers back, brushing his nose along my cheek before nuzzling his head against my neck.

It was in the dim glow of the fluorescent lights that I noticed something else, a bruise on his back. It wasn’t a casual ‘I got punched’ bruise. It was a reminder of battle. It made me act like I was about to fornicate with him to pin him down with my hips and turn on the dimly lit lamp over his side of the bed. I growled softly in frustration as I realized he had a similar mark on his front as if to show exactly where he was slammed into. I carefully stood up over him, revealing all of him by pushing back the blankets.

“Really?” I didn’t mean to sound so angry but I was definitely frustrated. “You’re surprisingly in one piece…” I clicked my tongue against my cheek and nodded my head at myself before hopping down off the bed because I needed a minute to think. I almost thought about putting a hole in the wall just to make him pay for it. But that was such a waste of money that we didn’t have time to throw around right now

“Calm down,” he complains, sitting up but not moving towards me. “I’m surprisingly in one piece,” he echoes as if that was supposed to be a good thing.

“How many?” I ask, crossing to him, knowing I won’t be able to calm down without the numbers.

“In the fight? Only four,” he says, knowing that’s not the number I was looking for. He sighs dramatically, complaint in the sound. “Thirty-something. Not a lot.”

“Thirty-something is not a lot to you?” I shake my head, wanting to smack him across the face but don’t. “Did you really have to do it here? Right here? This place?” I touch the thin wall for emphasis, still thinking about punching it. “What about the plan? Huh? What about the mountains?” I grabbed him by the hair threateningly without hurting him. “What about my say in this?”

He just grabs my belly protectively like changing the subject was easier than bringing me down from this frustration I felt. “We can still go to the mountains. We still have a plan.” He nipped at my jaw apologetically but I was still really mad at him. “You wouldn’t be so upset if the timing wasn’t nearly perfect,” he chuckles, brushing his nose against my throat to sniff me audibly.

“Stop trying to distract me,” I complained, “You promised me we’d do this one at a time. Our way. You swore you wouldn’t get in over your head.” I pushed his head to the side almost playfully but still mad.

“Plans change,” he complains, nipping at my neck, “We adapt. You’re the one always talking about doing things differently for a better result.” He pulls me to sit on his lap which just made me wanna smack him.

“Yeah, adapting to the plan is taking two or three at a time. Not thirty something. You know I like my peace and quiet.” I leaned my forehead against his as I settled.

“There’s no peace and quiet here, T,” he chuckles, brushing his nose against my cheek, “But that’s going to change soon enough.”

“Ha-ha,” I mock, “As if I’m going to move into a dead man’s house.”

“As if I don’t have class,” he grumbles, “I’m not stupid. I know better than to move you into another man’s house. I also know better than to trust a new build.” He kisses my throat lightly.

“Why’d you take so long to come back?” I ask, deciding we were having a serious conversation right now. I grabbed him by the face with clawed fingers because he was trying to distract me. “I’m serious, Hal. What took so long?”

He makes a face at me before reaching over to turn the dim light out. “It was supposed to be an unfair fight. So, they got what was coming for them. I didn’t think it would end the way it did.” He nuzzles my neck again, still waiting for forgiveness and for me to calm down. “It was an ambush. There was never a meeting.” He sounded almost sad but the fight wasn’t entirely unfair when it came to this monster. My monster was a special kind of demon.

I kiss him deeply to get him to stop begging. I hate when he gets all caught up in pleasing me that he can’t think for himself. It also made me pull his hair tauntingly as I moaned into his mouth.

“I’m taking it that you knew there’d be an ambush? And you took your time coming back because you knew I’d be mad? And you expected me to be asleep and not ask any questions.” I don’t know why I kept asking him questions. It was a little pointless.

“I expected you to be asleep because your cycle was only a few days off. Turns out it was coming early again.” He took a long deep inhale of my scent and brushed his fingers up under my baggy shirt over the soft spots over my hips. It was relaxing in the way he wanted it to be. “I’m tired of running and not being able to ‘run’,” he rested his head against my cheek, “You need it just as much as I do. I know we said we’d keep looking but I’m so fucking tired, T. We need to stop for a while. If it doesn’t work out and you can’t settle, we’ll move on without them. I know I fucked up but it’s not entirely my fault.” He drew his fingers up my back slowly and pulled my shirt off smoothly. “I promise, if this doesn’t work out in a couple months, we’ll go back on the road. We’ll figure something out. It’s just me and you, T.” He kissed me affectionately, still pleading with me for my cooperation.

“They’re not allowed to come knocking. They have an issue, they call first. I don’t make day calls. And I charge extra if I gotta leave the house.” I lightly brush my finger over the soft spot behind his left ear again. “I don’t want any babies near me. I don’t want kids playing knock-knock-zoom-zoom. We won’t have a doorbell. I want all of my privacy back, including dinners with just the two of us. I want the most comfortable bed you’ve ever laid on that supports both our backs. I want a nice deep bathtub for both of us to sit in. A weekly cleaning service to help battle all of the duties of running a home that neither one of us knows enough about. And I want a census report on these people right down to the way they drink their coffees. If you’re going to throw me in the deep end, I need work ups to catch me up to speed.” I pull some of his curls to sit straight against his cheeks. “Our kid, if there ever is one, doesn’t get to play with these kids until they're vetted. Every last one of them better be up to date on their shots. I can’t risk getting sick again.” I playfully bite his cheek as he dramatically lays down like it’s too much information.

“All you’ve done was state the obvious in a different context. I know the no people rule.” He smacks my ass before pulling on my underwear playfully. “No people at the house. No people in your way. Nobody looks at you. No wolves around the house. The whole 47 yards.” He starts pulling on my underwear more forcefully as I move to let him remove them. “You’ll get your meals alone, your nice bed and deep bathtub. We already established those had to be met.” He plays with my toes as he pulls the fabric off my one leg. Then he played with the toes on my other foot as he freed me. “We’ll go running tomorrow. You investigate and report back what you think.” He brushed his hands up my thighs suggestively. “And we’ll nap out in a field somewhere where nobody can find us.” He drew claws over my upper thighs as he traced circles on my legs with his sharp thumbs. “You love a good midday sunbath and nap,” he chuckles, tracing his fingers over my belly in the same suggestive and protective way.

“As long as you can guarantee I won’t wake up with sunburn,” I grumble, leaning down to kiss him with a chuckle. “And I will have a full report, don’t you worry.” I lean my hands on the bed on either side of his head as I rub myself against him.

“Good,” he grumbles distractedly, retracting his claws as I slowly move to take him.

He moans lightly as I ease onto him, a few centimeters at a time because he’s a perfect fit. He rubs right on every nerve as I bring him deeper inside, stretched out like I’m still a virgin which is miserable for the first few strokes. But once I get him to that peaceful place where my insides twitch and swallow him, I slide straight home, our bodies knocking against each other as we both moan at the rush that comes with it. The kind of rush that makes my skin all warm and sensitive. It also brings us both a small laughter. I brush my nose against his before kissing him lightly as I move against him, curling my feet under his legs to keep the position just right. He kisses me back with a lot of saliva like he can’t help but convey his attraction. It’s also here where his hands find my hips as he urges me on, almost like a cheerleader. I don’t normally let him lay there like this but he’s all bruised up and I like taking charge.

We don’t talk as I ride him with one hand on his belly and one elbow next to his head. There’s no reason to interrupt the interaction with words but I could tell by the way he was sipping at my lips and looking at me that he had more to say. He was probably going to ask me what my other requirements were and how big I expect this random house to be by the time we’re done mostly destroying it. But a day in the sun with him, during my cycle, able to run freely, was like a drug of its own. I move against him forcefully, careful not to throw too much of my weight at him as he continues to lay there and play with my body. Instinctually, I wanted nothing more than to bounce on him like a damn trampoline but I felt that would be a little rude.

He startled me a little bit when he sat up and scooted off of the bed more, tucking his hands under my legs to better spread them as he moved against me forcefully as I moved against him. I knew exactly what he was looking for with this odd thrusting of his and couldn’t help but carefully pull off of him and lower myself back down backwards, handing control back to him knowing we’d both get better leverage this way. The noises that almost instantaneously trickled out of me were louder than I meant for them to be. It made him latch a hand over my mouth with a chuckle as his other arm curled around my belly to keep us violently slamming against each other like we were damn youthful rabbits. I nipped and sucked at his hand while he drew his teeth across the soft spot at the back of my neck, giving me everything I needed to cum knowing that I wouldn’t in a traditional sense. He growled into the back of my head as I braced myself against his knees, wanting more the way the hormones in my body demand at a time like this. He growled again before biting the back of my neck rather hard, pulling at the skin to try to convince my body to stop punishing him and finish what it set out to do. That was about when the wave of pleasure rushed over me, that warning that I was going to cum that made me cry out into his hand. He bounced against me harder, knowing better than to pin me down until he had to. I could feel it as he rubbed every nerve. The sloshing wet sounds of our bodies against each other was a mild distraction from the pulse that slowly grew between my legs. It wasn’t the throb of need but rather a different kind of pulse. It was a slow contraction full of fluttering as my body gave him little warning as he kept moving against me. He bit hard on the back of my neck when he slowed down from bouncing me off of him to slowly mildly fucking me like it hurt. And it does, but not until there’s no room left between us. By then, he’s balls deep with a tight hold on my belly and legs to keep me still. The feel of my body playing with him inside of was like cumming and having an after show. He relaxed and spread his legs out as I sighed and fell back into him. His hand slowly moved away from my mouth to stroke my throat down the middle of my torso like he was petting me. He started playing with my clit just to be cruel, reminding me how good it feels even when it hurts to have him stuck here for this process.

“That’s a good girl,” he mocks, making me smack his thigh hard enough to probably leave a bruise.

“You know I hate that,” I complain, resting my head back on his shoulder and twitching a little bit at the overstimulation of his hand between my legs strumming away like it’s nobody’s business.

“You are a good girl,” he mutters mockingly like he’s talking to a dog before nipping at the side of my neck and moving his hand back over my belly. “My good girl.” He drew his teeth across my neck tauntingly and couldn’t help but briefly agree with him.

“Well,” I mutter, turning my head to kiss his cheek lightly, “It seems for as much of a good girl as you deem me to be, you’re my prisoner.” I moved a little bit for emphasis of what that means with him trapped inside me. “My asshole.” I pat his cheek lightly to mock him.

“I am your asshole,” he chuckles, nuzzling his nose against my neck as he carefully sits back into the bed. “I’m also more than that as your mate.” He cupped my breasts for whatever reason like he suddenly remembered they were there when they’ve been flopping around between us this entire time. They bring that skin to skin smacking noise with them and I’m still pretty sure I could knock him out with them if I swung around close enough to his face.

“What? Are you going to play masseuse?” I chuckle, curling my legs around his like two snakes and laying back against him as he starts kneading them firmly because he knows I only like him touching me when it’s rough enough.

“Masseuse, domestic housewife, feral rabbit catcher,” he chuckles, kissing my ear hard, “Do you need me to wear a skirt the next time I’m near a vacuum?”

“That’s not funny,” I say, cutting right through the humor because for some reason that offended me.

“You’re so uptight,” he complains, poking my belly hard before going right back to massaging my heavy breasts. “I think I’m going to have to run around the house in a fancy puffy tutu skirt until you get over it.” He dipped one of his hands down to my clit again, strumming away just to torture me. I moan and twitch, trying not to move so much knowing it’ll hurt both of us. But he was doing this on purpose. “You made it sound like I said you had to wear the skirt,” he growls in my ear in warning, getting me all worked up that I can barely take it. “I might share my clothes with you but the skirt is mine.” He laughs hard as I moan again and strain against him, finding it hard to think. “Yeah, you’re gonna sleep like a damn baby,” he chuckles, “There might not be a tomorrow for you.” He bit down on my neck just as my insides tightened against him in warning that it was still going to be a while. The process is never easy for whatever biological reason. He kissed the new mark and drew his hand from my clit over where our bodies were connected to tease both of us and to the scar on the inside of my thigh that he’d given me that’s similar to a wedding ring without a fraction of the money. It’s just a mark any dumb fucker can find when they got barking up the wrong tree. This is very much his tree and I’m lucky to have him. The mark on my neck joins a whole bunch of others. It’s a show that my man takes good care of me but it’s also another reason to wear hoodies in public. They’re all mostly at the back and base on my neck, brought on by this exact exchange, the sacred knot. He moved his hands back to my belly when I strained against him a little bit from the cramping that started. It prompted him to slowly move us so I could lay on my stomach and he could lay over me and play with my hair as if that was much of a distraction. The cramping was similar to period cramps in the ungodly way it rolled right through me. It was the response of my cervix dilating, a slow process followed by cramping that I’m pretty sure he can feel and that I find rather humiliating. I just wish it didn’t have to be a shared experience. He draws lines across my back like playing with me would distract me from the pain that kept bubbling in my belly from all of the change happening.

“It’s worse?” He asks, finding that I’ve started squeezing his legs with mine.

I don’t unbury my face from the sheets as I nod my head. I didn’t like suggesting that things were worse but they were definitely worse this time. He started rubbing my back and massaging above my hips where the source of the pain seemed to sit. Ten minutes rolled by and normally, my body would’ve done what it needed to do and released him so we could go to bed. But fifteen minutes rolled around and I was still cramping. It led to him having to carefully untangle my legs from his so he could situate us in bed on our sides, so he wasn’t crushing me. I was uncomfortable and humiliated because I didn’t really want him stuck to me like this. Meanwhile, it didn’t even seem to phase him as he stroked my belly and alternated playing with my breasts. I savored all of his tender loving care because I needed it and it just made me feel like we’d never have another single interaction like this again.

“You know,” he says after a while, curling his leg over my hip in a playful manner, “It felt too easy before. Maybe this was what we were waiting for.” He kisses the side of my head and strokes my hair. “You’ve always just been different. Stop thinking so much about it.” He chuckled as he nibbled on my ear playfully to lighten the mood.

“This just feels like something isn’t right,” I whisper, tracing the bones in his arm.

“Then we’ll deal with it. But I heard that some couples get locked together for hours. It hasn’t been that long.” He leaves a wet kiss on my cheek with a suction sound with it.

“So… this whole time you were just expecting us to stay like this for days?” I shake my head with a chuckle. “I could not imagine such a thing. I’d be through with you already if I had to deal with that.”

“Then we’re lucky,” he chuckles, pulling my hand to his mouth so he could kiss my knuckles. “Just remember it could always be worse.”

He was right but he was also ridiculous. I pulled his hand back with mine and curled his arm back around me because I liked the way he held me like nothing bad could ever possibly happen to us. He nuzzled his head against mine and it was almost like we fell asleep into a light nap. No more worrying. No more waiting. Just cuddling while we ignored our current situation.

I don’t know how much time passed but it was a lot of time and the sun had started coming up when the next steps started unraveling slowly. The contractions that kept him in place were now slow moving waves against him to finish off what we started, milking him inside of me and loosening enough he could move around a little bit. It was still too tight for him to leave because my body demanded payment for all of the work it put in to get us here. Payment was in the form of visiting the sperm bank and demanding everything he could possibly have in there.

He almost jumped up like it startled him and I groaned at all of the movement as he moved back on top of me. He chuckled at me as he slowly moved against me like he was lazy fucking me and I was half asleep. I guess in its way it was similar to that. He started playing with my clit again because he would’ve gotten me off numerous times already if I’d been able to let him go. He was a generous lover and I was very lucky for his pride and attention, taking everything he had to give. I moan and adjust my knees to give him better access even though he didn’t need it. He just moved inside of me as my insides moved around him, squeezing and coaxing a proper release out of him that didn’t take very much. He waited long enough to get it out that I couldn’t help but sympathize with him. He moaned, grunted and groaned behind, rather loudly as he came violently. The hot jets of fresh sperm spilled out of him and went right to their new home deep within me, without interruption. There’s no cervical wall in their way, just a sacred entrance waiting for it to pass through.

Upon this release, my body slowly started letting him go, as if this unconscious purely biological transaction was happening. He couldn’t help the second stream, a typical expectation between us. It comes with the territory, knowing that fertilization is a complicated process. It’s never been more than two, so I started trying to ease away from him, only to be met with claws and snarling. It made me want to elbow him in the face for being so belligerent with me. But as he slammed himself against me, snarling viciously, his hand knotting in my hair with claws against my scalp, he came again. It was just as hot and strong as the others, searing right through me almost painfully. He was worn out by then, done putting up a fight as he stopped moving against me and retracted his hand from my hair. I could tell he didn’t mean it by the way he was afraid to touch me. But I’m his good little girl and it takes more than pulling my hair to make me afraid of him. I just had to wait for him to have enough room to find his way out and wait for him to relax because if anything, I think it freaked him out. I laid still on the bed and waited for him to join me but he didn’t. He just loomed over me like he’d done something horribly wrong. I could smell his fear. It was sour and foul because he’s not a predator that scares easily.

“I’m okay,” I grumble, rolling onto my back lazily to look at him.

His face was partially distorted because he couldn’t calm himself down. The animal was just as upset as the person. Fear driving both of them to look like a deer in headlights.

“Hey,” I complain, sitting up to grab his hands and pull him to me, “I’m okay. I promise I’m okay.” I stood up to cup his grumbly face. Under different contexts, I would’ve found this amusing. “Tell me what you need.” I pull his face down to brush my nose against his.

He huffs a breath at me before brushing his nose against mine, mirroring my nuzzling and resting his forehead against mine. “You’re gonna kill me,” he breathes, his voice a soft whisper.

“Yeah, well, I promise not to make it that easy,” I chuckled, kissing him gently at first and then deepening it as he kissed me back. “There’s a lot worse I wish to do to you before you drop dead on me.” I chuckled only because he was hiding his amusement.

I fell back into the kiss and brushed my fingers through his hair to keep him content. He softened under my hands and I hummed in acknowledgement of it. It just made him pick me up carefully because my legs burned from being stuck in that weird position for what had to be well over an hour. He remained kissing me as he carried me into the bathroom and drew a hot bath. That was exactly what we needed, despite the dingy atmosphere of the motel. In the dark, we could pretend the bathroom was nicer. That much was certain.

He sat me on the toilet and I couldn’t help but have to go, feeling like I needed to pee for hours. It was not like me but I really didn’t feel like reading into it. I just went, cleaned myself up, washed my hands and danced around him as he relieved his bladder of the same backup. I normally would’ve kissed his back but decided not to, letting him do his business and climbing into the hot tub with a near moan as relaxation washed over me. This was indeed everything I needed. He kissed my head as he climbed in behind me, the two of us not really fitting but imagining we did. He pulled me back against him and turned the water off with his foot because he’s just a ridiculous man under all of that brood. I settled comfortably against his chest and tried to ignore the way his hands stroked my belly. Everything we knew about each other, about what all of this was, changed. But he didn’t get to run away, so I wasn’t going to either. It was a little funny to me thinking he’d run away when we both know I’m the runner. I just relaxed into him more as he leaned his head against mine.

“You’re what I need,” he whispers, kissing the side of my head lightly, “I need you, even if it kills me.”

“Good, ‘cause I need you,” I grumble, entangling our fingers over my belly. “I promise I’m not going to kill you, even if you pull my hair.”

He bit my cheek playfully. “Brat.”

I just shrug and pull water over my chest slowly. He leans forward carefully to grab the eczema soap we share to start washing me like I wasn’t capable of doing it myself. It was his most relaxed behavior, calming whatever he was still fighting by taking care of me in this very simple way. I let him wash every inch of me he wants to from my ears to my toes and back up. The feel of his warm skin against mine in this way was also relaxing for me. I wasn’t like this before him. I honestly don’t like being touched so imagining someone running their hands over me like this. It comes from a deep place of trust and affection that I didn't have. This was my mate doing something he likes doing. It didn’t even really require my participation. I let him rinse me off before turning around to face him, laying weird in the tub to stroke his cheek and nuzzle my head into his neck without hurting my legs. He strokes his fingers through my hair like he was trying to make up for grabbing it like he did. My hair was an unruly mess I wasn’t about to start worrying over anymore.

“You can’t dye your hair anymore,” he whispers, pressing his nose against mine, “No more salons. No more fancy coffees or ice cold energy drinks. No more hot tubs.” He thought he was so funny. “No more cheap fast food. No more people. No nuisance kids. No doorbells. No noise.”

“You’re not locking me in a room and keeping me trapped in a bed,” I complain, tracing his jaw with the edge of my finger. “You owe me sunbathing on a good run.” I relax against him more. “This also doesn’t mean I’m pregnant.”

“It doesn’t?” He asks dramatically before splashing me annoyingly like a little kid. “That’s not how this works? I can’t just snap my fingers?” He snapped his fingers a few times like it was magic that wasn’t working.

“Okay, Michael Banks,” I grumble, sitting up to get out.

“Michael Banks?” He made a face at me in the dark. “You’re cultured?”

I made a face of disgust at him. “To think, I might’ve made a baby with you.” I get out of the tub dramatically only for him to be a single step behind me, unplugging the tub.

“C’mon, you’re the one who thinks you’re feral,” he complains, scooping me up off my feet before throwing me into bed still wet. “You never talk movies with me.”

“There’s no TV,” I grumble, holding my hand out towards the TV as he pounced on the bed over me. “Why would we talk about movies we can’t even watch? Plus, you know I don’t like TVs. They give me headaches.”

He makes another face at me before kissing me. I nip him for it and suddenly, it’s like nothing bad has ever happened.

“You know, you’re the moody one, right? Do you think you’re done PMSing?” I laugh when he flashes his wolf at me, briefly distorting his face again to show that he doesn’t like my comment. But then he nips a line down my body and buried his face between my legs briefly to see if there was any significant change yet. But I knew he wouldn’t find any scent changes or hormonal differences for a few days. So, all he was doing was mocking me more again.

So, after I smacked him across the back of the head and scrambled away like he was the big bad wolf about to get me, he tackled me in a big bear hug with our heads against the pillows. He pulled the blankets up over us after he tangled himself around me so I couldn’t escape like we were playing some game. But I just relaxed into his strong hold and let him cover us in the blankets. This probably wasn’t what he expected me to do because I fell right asleep like his attempt to crowd me was nothing more than being swaddled like a baby.

[asassydork]

Finally figured out how I wanted this to go. Very pleased with myself for getting it off the ground finally and being far more pleased with it in this state.

[asassydork]

I 🥸 am onto something this time.

**Had to rewrite it because I found a better way to end it.

[asassydork]

Chapter 4: The Open Road

Story: Shadows of the Forgotten

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Following the devastating twist at the diner, the couple sets out to carve a new path. A much different path from where they started leading towards a place they never planned on going. When tragedy strikes, they’re forced to really consider where their strengths sit.

TW: MDNI, violent car accident, head trauma, blood,

I sat on the floor behind the passenger seat staring out the opposite window at the sky. Every once in a while I could see the tops of trees or nearby skyscrapers as they zipped by. I was in a trance-like state with all of my emotions having left me. I was depressed in a way I haven’t been depressed in a really long time. It was something I wasn’t looking to share with Hal or anyone else. But I wasn’t given a choice.

Hal never turned the radio on, so the long ride was held in silence. It was suffocating in a way silence has never truly felt before. It was accompanied by the fact that he didn’t glance over his shoulder at me. Not once. He was just somewhere else driving on autopilot. The reality of the situation weighed heavily on me because I glanced at him more than a few times, wondering how so much could’ve been going wrong from the beginning and I didn’t see it. The thing that bothered me the most was wondering if his big secret was what was keeping him from me. It explained something that I’ve been trying to justify as my own problem in all of this. The reason we weren’t together might have had everything to do with the guilt he wouldn’t share with me. But I wasn’t sure that we could ever move past it. It was going to take a lot of forgiveness that I wasn’t entirely sure I had inside of me. I’ve been so lenient and eager with him that I never once considered he was the problem.

I loved him. My Hal. Whatever small piece of that version of him was real. Knowing all of this didn’t change that. It wasn’t just going to dissolve. I’d have to accept this fiery hatred in my chest but I would always love that man. Whoever he really was. It made me realize that it was more than just breaking up. It was grief and mourning. It was as painful as if he had died because somehow, some part of him did. The expectations of who we would both be had died. We weren’t ever going to know those people.

I stared out the window for hours, unable to think with the fog that filled my head. Depression was an evil thing, especially when it latched onto a trigger. I had drifted off after a certain point, curled up in a ball with my head on my knees and my arms wrapped around myself. It wasn’t a comfortable sleep but my body gave in to an unexpected exhaustion. The hormones in my system weren’t as bad when depression settled in. I just hadn’t been prepared to sleep on the floor behind the seat like that.

The accident.

It happened like a scene out of a movie. Slowly but all at once.

I didn’t have time to brace myself for what happened because I had fallen asleep. So, when the other vehicle came barreling into us, I was likely in one of the worst spots in the car. I should’ve been in a seat with a seatbelt on but the dangers never crossed my mind. I was ignorant in the worst way, letting depression rule my decisions.

The airbags in the doors exploded throughout the car on both sides because the other vehicle was going so fast that it threw us. The car rolled once and spun out.

Shards of glass danced in the sunlight as they rained down on me the second the vehicle encroached upon the exterior of Hal’s little car. We’d gotten hit on the back driver’s side so the whole door was almost fully inside the car with me. The groan of metal bending irregularly wasn’t much of a sound because my ears were already ringing.

I kneed myself in the head when my whole body was thrown backwards. I then hit the back of my head on the door from the force of it and was shot back because of the airbag going off. I tasted blood in my mouth from biting my tongue unexpectedly. The scent of it filled my nose too, which meant I probably had a nosebleed from where I kneed myself.

Hal wasn’t expecting to get hit by how fast we’d been moving. It sent the car into a single roll that caused me to fly from my spot on the floor into a spiral where various points of my body hit the roof before hitting the floor again when the car surprisingly righted itself. But that wasn’t the end of the commotion.

The car spun as debris continued to fly around us. Every small object including both of our phones had gone airborne and then began whipping around. I didn’t break anything but I very easily could’ve. I honestly probably should’ve walked away with a few broken bones.

With the airbags deployed, there was more debris active within the shell of the car. All of the windows had smashed inward from the roll and the roof had crunched in overhead. Hal was hooked in so he didn’t move around as much as I did. But I could smell his blood in the air right along with mine. I spit when the car stopped moving, almost coughing to get the taste out of my mouth. I didn’t like the idea of biting my tongue but I didn’t feel the pain of it. My head pounded to its own beat and my ears were definitely ringing.

The sun blinded me whenever I tried to peel my eyes open. The pain in my head was excruciating by that point, leaving me to navigate the car blindly. It took effort to untangle myself from the weird position I had fallen into to get towards Hal. Our entire fight had to be behind us by now. Life and death demanded it.

I reached for him over the center console, hoping that he was at least conscious enough to know that I was right here. His hand gripped my forearm tightly, claws pressed against the fabric of the hoodie over my arm. Panic was evident in the action. I grabbed firmly onto his arm and used it to help hoist myself off of the floor. His second hand grabbed me as he unbuckled himself from the seat, pulling me over the center console towards him. I reached for his head, brushing my nose against his as he pulled me onto the passenger seat.

I kissed him lightly, seeking reassurance and amends. He surprised me when he kissed me back firmly, sipping at my lips with fear in his actions. Blood covered my face and I could still taste it in my mouth. It made me feel bad because I hadn’t meant to get hurt.

He sat me in the passenger seat, brushed a hand over my head to find each of the spots where it hurt. It was a quick assessment that I winced and hissed about. He brushed his hands down my back and across my arms to see if there was anything else to worry about before reaching past me to open the door and carefully climbing into the passenger seat with me to get us out of the car because the whole driver’s side was likely deformed. I curled around him instinctively as he moved to get out, knowing I likely wouldn’t be able to stand up. He curled me against him and tucked my head against his neck protectively as he moved carefully to stand up outside of the car.

It was automatically behind us. A healing moment that I wasn’t anticipating seeing for a few days.

“No hospital,” I whisper, using the collar of his shirt to clean my face.

“No hospital,” he whispers back, kissing my forehead.

He was limping, showing an injury in his left leg. He must’ve taken a serious hit from the car by the way he was walking. It made me feel bad that he’s carrying me. He doesn’t wander very far before sitting down, kissing my forehead again to comfort me.

I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d both end up in the hospital, now. The idea was a miserable one. An unsafe one. I didn’t want to be locked away again like that with them asking me so many questions. I knew my current condition and the scars on my face would lead them to question our relationship and if he’d do something like this, despite the clear signs it’s from an animal. An accident like this could really set us back financially and I hadn’t really thought about it until just now. But I also knew that despite everything, there was only us. I didn’t want to lose him. I didn’t want to lose our life together. I didn’t want to lose the family we planned to have. The future we mapped out for ourselves.

I also knew that with the scent of his blood and the throbbing inside my skull, that there was no way to actually avoid medical care. I just had to cross my fingers and hope that it would work itself out and that we wouldn’t end up exposing ourselves anymore than we have. I didn’t want to be held responsible for ousting an entire populace. It would be a death sentence.

“I really hit my head,” I whisper, rubbing my nose along his neck.

He massaged the soft spot at the back of my neck the way he usually does, without having to think. “Yeah, I heard it.” He tried not to laugh but he thought that it was at least a little humorous. It was a sign that things weren’t going to change. I hadn’t totally lost him. “Next time, put a fucking seatbelt on. Or I’ll hog tie you to the seat.” His tone changed when he spoke. A dark seriousness settling in.

“Believe me, never again,” I grumble, resting my head back against his shoulder.

He brushed a hand through my hair gently, not actually touching my head. The relaxation that settled over me in his arms made it hard to stay awake. I knew sleep was a bad idea but I couldn’t pull myself out of it. I just clung to him a little tighter and found myself drifting off, seeking release from the pain that was consuming my body. He stroked my back lightly after a while and didn’t seem bothered in the least that my consciousness wavered. He was my protector, whether or not we were on good terms. I needed to remember that. I needed to still be able to trust him.

“I love you,” he whispered after a while, finding a need to reassure me further.

But I was too far away by then to mutter anything back to him. Sleep had stolen me away once more. This time it was a darker, scarier kind of sleep that I couldn’t break away from. I knew that there was no easy way to wake up from a state like this.

[asassydork]

(Edited) Excerpt from Chapter 1: Rain, Rain, Go Away

Rain. It was different up here. Colder. Harsher. Clung to your skin without drying if the sun ever bothered to come out. Every bit the depressing landscape they paint the Northwest. Drab. Melancholy.

Once upon a time, I used to enjoy it. A different version of me would be standing out in that parking lot barefooted, ankle deep in a puddle, dancing around without a care. There was always something sacred about the sky anointing the earth in such a way. A force so strong it brought forth life from nothing. But my life meant nothing in the scheme of it. At least, tonight it felt as if I were completely invisible.

That same girl would’ve preferred this rain to come with the rumbling booms of thunder, echoing across the land and tickling our ears with its arrival. The chills I used to get with the anticipation of such events was the best part of loving storms. I think that was the part that made the rain so boring. There wasn’t lightning or thunder riding along with it.

Out here, it rains until it pours, and then the floods come. I’ve seen it twice since arriving in Washington. Not that I should be complaining. It didn’t affect the trip. Plus, rain was a good thing. It washed away the past and kept our scents from lingering in one place too long, making us harder to track. I just wished I found more joy in it. After all, that same girl always dreamed of making it out here, to see the rainy season. I wondered how long it planned to last.

The diner was small. A little metal box that reminded me of every 1980s diner there ever was in a movie. Cheap pink paint on some of the walls, a mint green on the others. The checkered flooring was cracked and scuffed, needing repairs and polish. It didn’t age well. The metal stools that lined the fake marble counter were torn in the faux leather cushions and creaked whenever someone sat on them. The electrical tape keeping the cushions together was not the best alternative.

The tables were all red and white booths and faux marble wrapped in metal tabletops that lined the wall with the little caddies in the corner for the menus, ketchup and mustard. The sugar in the jar looked rock solid and the creamers were likely expired. It was cheap in the way you’d expect this far from real civilization. Some nowhere-place east of Seattle.

The windows were big rectangles with the curved corners, a thin tint smoothed over the aging glass with pockets that clearly didn’t shield the daylight. The parking lot beyond wasn’t any better. It was in need of paving and paint, spots being made up by the half drunk customers who wandered in from the only bar less than a mile up the major highway just beyond the big neon glowing sign. The sign was a crescent moon with the words ‘Darla’s Moonlit Cafe’ across the center. There’s a sign beneath it for daily lettering that was currently empty. They’ve likely lost most of the letters in the alphabet over the years.

I was focused on the asphalt that was cracked and covered in huge divots from wear and tear and no repairs. Weeds almost the size of me grew along the outer rim closer to the street, especially under the sign. I wondered what kind of business doesn’t even cut weeds down. Laziness seemed contagious around here, though. Time travel was also prevalent. An experience I didn’t expect to have on a night like tonight.

[asassydork]

Happy weekend. I finally figured out where I’m going and what I wanna do. So, without further ado, here is chapter 3.