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Criminal 7a/?
Date: 2012-08-19 11:08 pm (UTC)And now, with his back thumping against the wall of the inner storage room chamber—Katie’s favorite haunt for such things—he can’t help but pant and fumble and blush right along with her as they tug at zippers and buttons. Because he’s young again, happy and oblivious to complaints of bland tasting pills and suffocating walls, to Pep’s worried glances and Freddie’s heart-heavy sighs.
Yes, she is still horrible to him—slapping him, using him roughly, hissing insults so acidic he will still feel the burn for weeks—but there is just… something about Kate. He suspects it’s what her father sees, what Freddie sees, Amata too, even. There is a spark in her darkness, a speck of light that makes him grovel to reach it; to see a shine of regret in her merciless eyes.
When Kate is gone from his side, however—warmth and laughter and snarling smiles gone and long settled—Herman feels sick. Her very being makes him want to vomit, want to throttle her and kill her and take away that knowing glint in her eye. She alone has taken away his marriage, however cracked it was, and has broken it into irrevocably jagged pieces. He would always have Kate’s taste on the back of his tongue, even if Pep never did taste it.
But now, oh now, when Kate is curling around his body with strong limbs and blinding heat, he can’t possibly adore her more; her quick, observing eyes, terrifying in their intelligence and strength, pinning his breath in the depths of his lungs.
She is so strange looking without her dark eye-makeup, he realizes—not as pretty perhaps, though maybe a tad more delicate looking. Her impossible eyes stare up into his now, large and crackling with carefully leashed malice.
“How is your hair curly one day,” He whispers against her temple, wrapping a ringlet around his finger thoughtfully. “And completely straight the next?”
“Magic.” She hums, forcing her hand a bit too enthusiastically into his groin in a show of her absolute authority over him. He grunts, though doesn’t dare reprimand her—his memory isn’t so bad as to forget the last time he tried to resist her wild methods to get him hard. “And a bit of heat, bit of steam, bit of pressure, bit of mashing and pulling…”
“Kate… Kate wait—!” He gasps out desperately, wincing at the harsh way she attempts to rouse him.
It’s like this most days, he can admit. Sometimes she really is too young and fast; too eager to have him in any way she can. He realized very early on that while she wasn’t a virgin, she also wasn’t as experienced as he had initially assumed. Or, perhaps, whatever boy she’d had before Herman had been much more accustomed to pain.
He could imagine tolerating such raw, forceful passion at a younger age, when sex and fondling usually lasted a few minutes as opposed to hours. In fact, she often praised him in something akin to honest-to-goodness admiration of what he could make her feel over a course of an hour or two.
Kate was filthy, however, in what she would spit and growl at him when he fucked her. It was something he hadn’t experienced since his days with Ellen DeLoria, and he had discovered more than once that such things had been sorely missed. The slice of red-painted nails, the stickiness of lingering lipstick, the rousing, warm smell of feminine youth, heated like a furnace and jumping like a livewire.
There isn’t much foreplay, now, before Herman’s shaking with the need to have her bare against him, to fill her up just like she’s begging him to. He pulls and tugs pointedly at her work-suit, sealing his lips momentarily over a smudge of grease on her cheek.
It tastes nearly as soiled as she is, and Herman keeps that thought in mind as he is spurred on by ghosts of memories; closing his eyes and thinking of an earlier time, a hint of vodka and bubblegum and deep sky blue.
Criminal 7b/?
Date: 2012-08-19 11:19 pm (UTC)While he is no mastermind like she, Herman has managed to train himself into keeping emotions and hurts to himself. If he were to truly lay out his worries and fears before this girl, she would rip and tear at them until they were gaping, festering wounds.
Though it’s now, warm and sweaty and lulled by the sound of vibrating gears and whirring machinery, that Herman let’s his biggest hurt go: he tells her that he loves her.
Kate’s body is a ripple of stiffening muscles upon the low rumble he emits, three words that sound half-hearted and weak from an overly strong orgasm minutes earlier.
He wishes it hadn’t slipped, that she had been asleep when he’d confessed. Even Herman didn’t truly believe that he loved her, though it was close enough to what he truly did feel that… well, he couldn’t just let her think that this wasn’t intensifying for him.
Every time he saw her he felt another part of him breaking.
She finally moves, raking her fingernails pleasantly, gently, through the dark hair at his chest. Kate shifts on top of him, pealing her sweaty cheek from his stomach to stare up at him in an astounding show of pure, untainted curiosity.
Kate’s face devoid of spite is breathtaking, quite literally, for Herman holds his breath as he observes the girl before him.
She looks equal parts exhausted and delicate—deep running circles gaunt her eyes, eyes that shine dully with giant, almost inhuman pupils. Her lips are bitten and swollen, throbbing a deep pink in the soft swell of light shining from behind Herman, where a machine purrs ever wakeful. Her hair is wild with curls, a drop of his semen clinging to the end of a shining ringlet.
Herman reaches for this, pinching the ringlet between a thumb and index finger before brushing the wetness across her chewed bottom lip.
Kate hardly reacts, instead opting to bore her eyes into his in such a way that he stills all movements in a split second.
“Do you really?” Her voice is hoarse and it spreads an eruption of shivers down his spine. She reaches up to trace the line of stubble on his cheek, her expression kind but not lacking a certain strength that captivates him into utter silence. “Or do you see someone else, Manny?”
Herman blinks at her, barely feeling her icy fingers that soothe along his features with chaste care.
“I… Don’t know…”
“Yes, you do, Manny.” When she is not sneering filthy insults and secrets, her voice has her father’s faint, intelligent lilt. It’s beautiful that she allows Herman to hear, the very thought making his eyes sting and cloud with unfallen tears. “Do I truly frighten you?”
He nods, letting his head fall back onto the mattress limply as his heart goes numb. “I don’t think I can… tell you. You already know.”
“I do.” She whispers, kissing at the tears that finally do fall, smoothing his hair back from his sweaty forehead in slow, lingering glides. “I need to hear it, though.”
Criminal 7c/?
Date: 2012-08-19 11:33 pm (UTC)I’m, um, with Pepper now.
What? But… No, I don’t understand what the hell you’re talkin’ about, what about our kid? This fucking kid!
I’m sorry I—… I just…
…You’re such a fucker Herman, I can’t believe it sometimes.
I know.
You know?
Yeah.
What about me? Hm? You think about me? And what about this kid, huh? What am I gonna tell my son—your fucking son—when he asks: ‘Where’s Daddy?’ What about it, Manny, tell me!
…
I… I just can’t do it by myself Manny, please. You just… You gotta stay with me, stay with us. Please, Manny, you gotta do it.
Just… tell him I’m dead.
Can’t you love us? I know you could, Manny, just try for him. I’m—…I’m too scared to do this, I really am. I’m just a kid, Manny, come on!
…
Fine. Fine! You know what? Why don’t you give Pepper a big kiss for me, eh Manny?
“I was too young—I… didn’t realize he’d be my son, not at the time. Pep was pregnant with Freddie too and…” He chokes on his hysteria, nearly suffocates from the panic of it all. Herman is thankful that Kate is no longer coddling him. She just stares at him blankly—unpitying and unjudging, for she must know that she is just as bad as he is.
Or maybe she isn’t.
“Butch is yours.” She states in monotone, unquestioning.
“He’s Ellen’s.” He seethes hotly, grinding the heels of his palms into his streaming eyes, raking fingers through his wild hair and scraping dull nails against his scalp. “Not mine, not if I didn’t love him.”
“You love her, though.”
“Yes.” He gasps, nodding frantically, ripping at his hair. “Sometimes I look at… at him and I see me and her in his eyes and his face and I just hate him so much. He is such a bad kid.”
“He’s hurt you stupid bastard, you fuck up. Butch is a prick because his father couldn’t give a shit about him and his mom with his hands full of proper, sober pussy.” She lashes out so suddenly, so forcefully that Herman chokes on a sob and splutters into silence. A bewildering emotion burns steady in her eyes, wild and dangerous, enough to make him flatten against the wall behind him. “You’re a fucking Grade-A cunt, you know that?”
“Stop it, Kate.” His voice cracks in misery, eyes watching her as she crawls out from under the haven of machinery to pull her jumpsuit up properly. Herman follows her, grabbing at her arm and yanking her back bodily by her shoulder. It hurts her, he can tell by her hiss and wince, but he can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t stop. “You don’t know what it was like for me to do that. I love Pepper, more than anything, and I love Freddie—,”
“And me, and Ellen, and you hate Butch. Got it.” She leers, staring at him unmoving for a moment before slapping him so hard that her nails leave welts along his cheek. Fresh tears burn at the wounds. “Gotta split, Manny. Left the oven on, left the fridge open, forgot to feed my cat—all that.”
Criminal 7d/?
Date: 2012-08-19 11:43 pm (UTC)Late—40 minutes late, that asshat.
She flips her logbook closed, smearing the ink on her latest entry on the Holden family’s air-unit before she tosses the journal onto her bed.
She lets the jukebox continue its singing, if only to distract from the smell of vodka on her breath. He hates it when she drinks, even if he’s no better. Typical.
It isn’t long before she lets him in, his blue eyes cool in their observation of her as he leans casually against the doorframe, his face as feral and handsome as ever with that dirty sneer tugging faintly at his upper lip. He’s got a new scar, just below his lower lip.
She realizes that she hasn’t seen him in a while, not like this.
“Kat.” Butch narrows his eyes, staring down at her through the smoke rings that float up towards him from her rounded lips. “You got ink on you.”
He wipes at it before she can, wetting his thumb with his tongue before jabbing it at her jaw clumsily. Kate whines audibly and lashes out at him—he laughs at her, brushing roughly past her and into her apartment with his usual misguided swagger.
“Doesn’t daddy-dearest hate it when you get ashes on the carpets, Poindexter?” He mocks over his shoulder after flicking at Kate’s grinning face in a picture frame, the nail hitting the glass making a dull ding that sets Kate on end.
“Good thing Daddy lives down the block, eh Butchie?” Kate whispers from behind him, nearly kneeing him in the groin when he refused to acknowledge her presence. The fucking dope. “Why were you late?”
“Huh? Oh, I was finger-blastin’ Christie during movie night.” Right on cue, he lifts his index and middle finger to Kate’s nose. “Gone with the Wind,” He says in explanation, seeing her raised brow. “She got hot.”
“Mm.” Kate nods, eyes narrowed, not bothering to tell Butch that his fingers smelt like anything but pussy. “She your date?”
Butch grins, reaching up his other hand to tuck back an unwashed lock of hair behind Kate’s ear, letting his knuckles skim down a hickey on her neck. He taps at it with his finger. “Only ‘cause I’m not yours.”
“About that…” Kate drawls, smacking Butch’s caress away. “Officer Gomez told me something rather… scandalous. Would you like to hear it?”
Butch’s face falls, humor and flirtation dissipated in place of discomfort. He watches her—studies her, really—for any trace of falsehood. Of course, Butch never could tell with Kat, but he can’t help it; she’s had him on the edge of his seat since they were kids.
Kate’s got that damn look in her eye, like she’s got him cornered and he can’t do a fuckin’ thing about it. He almost regrets asking her for this favor, for use of her charm, to investigate something he never had the guts to.
And now Katie’s licking at her lips, closing the distance between them with a sway of her hips and a purr that sends his thoughts dizzying out of grip.
She looks up at him thoughtfully, deeply—freezing him to the spot with that fuckin’ smile—and a flash of something frightening brightens her eyes with mirth; just as if she had a beautiful, disgusting thought. “Fuck me, first.”
Butch narrows his eyes at the sudden suggestion, staying very still as she intertwines her strong little hand in his affectionately—he can still feel the bite of her nails on the back of his hand, however.
Damn it, she knows him—knows this makes him burn and hate her, makes him love her more with each passing second.
Kate melts in shivers and sighs when he presses his lips to the hickey staining her neck, then laughing callously as he yanks her head back with a handful of her hair before smashing a kiss into her mouth.
Re: Criminal 7d/?
Date: 2012-08-21 11:55 am (UTC)Re: Criminal 7d/?
Date: 2012-08-22 12:54 am (UTC)Re: Criminal 7d/?
Date: 2012-08-23 07:14 am (UTC)I simply love the build-up you created, the character development, Gomez' slow breaking, the LW who's teetering right on the edge between Lolita/Girl and Black Widow/Woman and the pull she has over the guys.
The twist with Butch caught me unawares, and I am dying to read on!
Re: Criminal 7d/?
Date: 2012-08-26 05:34 am (UTC)Re: Criminal 7b/?
Date: 2012-08-31 06:32 pm (UTC)A!A is really sorry!
Date: 2012-09-03 01:12 am (UTC)Not to make excuses, but I've just been dealing with some financial issues after I got into a wee accident three weeks ago. It's kind of been consuming my thoughts, so I'm really sorry I didn't post. You all are so supportive :)
Re: A!A is really sorry!
Date: 2012-09-03 02:05 am (UTC)