Fragile

by Nomelon

Rating: NC-17

Characters: Meg/Ruby

Summary: Meg keeps coming back for more.

Setting/Spoilers: no spoilers

Disclaimer: all belongs to CW & Kripke. No money is being made, yadda yadda.

~~~

Their names and their bodies have changed again, but that has never been how they recognise one another. Meg remembers a time when Ruby was shorter, her hips wider, dimples in her knees. She remembers a slash of red lips, a sleek helmet of jet-black hair, creamy skin and a mole on the soft inside of Ruby's elbow. She remembers scarred wrists and empty eyes; bodies so worn out and abused it was more trouble than it was worth trying to hold them together.

She remembers dozens of faces, dozens of bodies. Once or twice they've even been men, and that was a trip, but there's nothing that comes close to this. Nothing like watching Ruby give up on fighting back, going under again and again, finally surrendering as she falls apart under Meg's hands, her whole body shaking and trembling, biting on her own lip hard enough to draw blood.

That's what Meg is waiting for. That's why she keeps coming back to this weak little demon child. This girl who plays pretend at being human so convincingly it's intoxicating.

Ruby looks like a doll this time: Barbie's bold little sister. It's a favoured look for her. Skinny, with a narrow chin, perky breasts and boyish hips. She's wearing her hair long and blonde around her shoulders. She spits insults and murmurs sweet little pleas from a sharp mouth.

She looks fragile. She looks like she might break.

They fell into bed hours ago, but time has little meaning here. This place is nameless. A dusty motel on the side of the road; and there isn't a soul left alive that knows or cares that they're here. This is playtime. Blood under her nails and tequila on her breath; and right now there's no place else that Meg would rather be.

She trails the backs of her fingers under the curve of Ruby's breast and pinches her nipple, hard, until she's rewarded with a sharp intake of breath and a toss of sweat-damp blonde hair. She runs her hand down Ruby's stomach, past faint tan-lines and lower still to thumb over her clit, swollen and slick, bruised from their games. Meg takes care to be rough with the over-sensitised flesh, before ducking down to suckle gently, cruel with the kitten laps of her tongue. Ruby presses up into it, shifting her hips, mewling low in her throat.

Ruby's thighs and ass are slapped-pink and scratched. The little flecks of red raised to the surface of her skin are hot and peppery under Meg's tongue as she soothes every little hurt, only to nip and suck, leaving mouth-shaped bruises in her wake. Ruby whines and hisses, her breath hitching, her broken nails catching on the cheap motel sheets.

Ruby clenches a fist in Meg's hair -- a dangerous game -- as her knees fall further apart, wanton and pushy, heels digging into the mattress. So open. Always ready for it. Always wanting more.

Meg won't be dictated to. She leans over the bed, using her weight and her strength, pinning Ruby down. Ruby's thighs are warm and a little tacky against her sides, their bellies kissing. Meg spreads Ruby open with her fingers and slides her thumb inside, drinking down whimpers as she bites at Ruby's mouth.

"You miss me, baby? You missed this?" she asks, her teeth grazing Ruby's jaw. Meg watches Ruby's face intently as she nudges up with her thumb, riding slippery and easy, using her knuckle and the blunt edge of her nail right where Ruby wants it most, teasing at the soft little pucker of Ruby's ass with her fingers.

Ruby arches up off the sheets, her eyes going instantly black as she comes, and Meg has her answer.

The end.