have you any thoughts on van/melissa? cannot stop thinking of mel fixating on the girl who was kind to her at one of her lowest moments. i could imagine the two of them bonding back in civilization before mel fakes her death - van got dumped by tai, mel got dumped by shauna. van isn't tai, but she's desperate & lonely & pathetic & warm at night, she remembers what human meat feels like between the teeth, she'll go down on van without even being asked.
this is ... different. but different is good. new pairing ... and so new thoughts. can see them both using each other for their own desires. mel, the more willing vessel. van desperate in times of solitude.
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—— van’s the dom, no question. she’ll slap mel’s cunt just to watch her squirm, drag her by the hair onto her lap, make her beg for cock she doesn’t even have. “open up, sweetheart,” she drawls, and mel obeys, mouth wide, eyes glassy. van spits in her mouth, calls her a good girl, then fucks her throat with three fingers till the girl's choking, tears streaming, but she never pulls away.
—— they fuck in the dark, always, never an exception. van likes it rough, likes to leave marks—teeth on mel’s tits, bruises blooming on her thighs, a split lip that tastes like copper. mel takes it all, greedy for pain, greedy for van’s voice in her ear: “you’re so fucking desperate, you’d let anyone use your cunt, huh?” and mel nods, whimpering, grinding down on van’s thigh, slick soaking through faded boxers.
—— melissa scratches at van’s back, nails drawing blood, and begs for more—“shauna used to choke me, you know. do it. i want to feel it.” van obliges, hand tight around her throat, thumb pressing just enough to make mel’s eyes roll back. “you want to forget?” van growls, “open up.” she shoves her fingers in mel’s mouth, makes her taste herself. mel’s eyes shine with tears, but she’s smiling, tongue lapping at van’s knuckles.
—— post-orgasm, mel’s crying, but it’s not for van—never was. she sobs shauna’s name into the pillow, still twitching from van’s fingers, and van just snorts, bitter, wiping her hand on the sheets. “at least you’re honest,” she mutters, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands.
—— in the morning, van finds mel gone, blood on the sheets and a note: thank you for being rough enough to make me feel something. don’t look for me. van laughs, lights another cigarette, and wonders if tai ever thinks of her at all.
