Block plus Reed equals Bleed
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***BARRY SEASON 4 EPISODE 4 SPOILERS***
“Sally, I know this is crazy, but if I could just stay here–”
If I could just sleep on the couch. Or the floor. It will only be a day, maybe two. To get myself together. Get my head right. I’ll stay away from you. I promise. I don’t want to scare you. But please. I need your help. And if you wanted to come with… Sally, we could be so happy. Sally, please…
He rehearses the speech a hundred times along the way. While sirens chase behind and helicopters roar overhead. But no matter how Barry combines words, a small part inside knows it will never be enough.
“Let’s go.” The hollow answer comes before Sally’s processed the entity emerging from her bedroom. Barry. Boyfriend. Killer. Convict. She doesn’t know how to categorize him now. Perhaps she doesn’t need to.
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When Barry shows up in her apartment after breaking out of prison, he and Sally run away and cling to one another through their fears.
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She felt like Alice in Wonderland, and in this chapter, she was the wrong-sized Alice; having taken the mushroom that made her shrink into a tiny girl-doll, she was about to tumble down an even more nightmarish rabbit hole.
“You’re going to,” she stammered, eyes downcast, hardly able to speak, “y-you’re going to… eat me, now?”
Or, Barry Block and Sally Reed, as you’ve never seen them before. You might say, it’s their dinner-theater debut…
Series
- Part 1 of I feel safe in you
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He put his hands on her cheeks, which were growing wet with tears. “They’re not going to take you. Either of you. They can’t. I won’t let them.”
She grabbed a hold of his wrists. They locked eyes for a moment that seemed to last a century, and shared an intense, knowing look.
“Do you… do you think… do we have to… should we…?”
Or, Barry and Sally are served their just desserts...
Series
- Part 2 of I feel safe in you
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Summary
***SPOILERS FOR BARRY SEASON 4 EPISODE 5***
Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth. For your love is better than wine.
Sally’s fingers leap from the bottle as if scorched. Tasting acrid regret and longing, she hears Barry moving through the house like a ghost in her memory.
Unbuttoning his shirt, Sally’s shuffling footsteps pause Barry’s fingers. “John can take today off from school. Sleep late if he wants t–”
Petite hands encompass his waist from behind, Sally pressing her face between Barry’s broad shoulders and exhaling warmth. “Thank you.”
“What?”
Sally slips around until she’s against his chest, though Barry doesn’t hold her. Doesn't remember the last time she let him. “I said, ‘thank you.’ For protecting us. For always being here.”
Looking through his lenses, Barry sees something he thought lost. Not Emily, skin soaked in alcohol and misery worn like a medallion of pride. But Sally. His Sally.
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After standing all night against the darkness, Barry comes inside and is reunited with Sally.
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In their time together, Barry and Sally established enough routine to beckon the other to sensual shores. And with the tender pass of Sally’s fingers through his brunette waves, Barry knew reading time was over.
Shifting to his side, Barry tickled under Sally’s chin. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“So…” Feathery fingers migrated to Sally’s collarbone, inching down her shirt and sending up tingles. “What are you in the mood for tonight?”
“Hmm,” Sally squeezed his love handle while she pondered. Barry didn’t like this aspect of his body and between running and weight lifting, glowered at the stubbornly insulated midsection. But Sally adored his chub and, though she knew bringing it up would likely make him more self conscious, silently applauded Barry's figure with her hands. “Well, actually, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about...”
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Sally asks Barry if they can engage in an erotic repeat of their vore escape. Hesitant at first, Barry loosens up as a miniature Sally traverses his body before swallowing his little lady whole.
Series
- Part 3 of I feel safe in you
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Summary
Shifting her gaze back to Ryan, Sally observed that he was still mindlessly blubbering, oblivious to their conversation. It was clear that Ryan was going to be useless at coming up with an idea. In fact, Sally had only one harebrained scheme in mind, but she knew Barry would hate it.
“Boo Bar,” she whispered. “Don’t you think there’s only one way to save him?”
As predicted, Barry grimaced. He knew exactly what she meant. It had occurred to him as well. But still, he looked down and mumbled, “No. Please?”
Series
- Part 4 of I feel safe in you
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Summary
Maybe if she masturbates Sally will be able to sleep. She’s been tense lately, and as a strong believer in self care, knows this might do the trick. But as fingers pet over her panties, Sally can’t conjure a handsome stranger, or replay an old flame. No, Barry lurks behind her eyes. Seducing through the shadows. And though she despises the thought, his nasal voice rings through her consciousness. My Sally…
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Sneaking a hand under his prison-issue pants, Barry doesn’t jerk. Not yet. Laying in the dark, he continues to wait. For his mind to put on a show.
In earlier years, Barry needed to work at this skill. Shut out everything and sink into his imagination. But now, the reel starts flickering without his awareness more often than not. The shouts of fellow prisoners, snores from the next bunk over, doing nothing to deter his inner play.
Sally. On good nights, Sally appears. Smile and hair sunshine as they whirl across the dance floor, or host a barbeque outside their mansion. Rolling onto his side, Barry thrusts within his large fist. As his ideal Sally whispers, Come with me.
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After Sally receives an unwanted advance from her pseudo-agent, Barry vows to take revenge.
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Tug her forward by the necklace. Key and lock clinking. Sally gasps.
Are you still my good girl?
Sally’s chin upturned. Hazel eyes clear and wanting, like a fallen leaf seeking shelter on the ground. Yes, sir. Always.
Barry scoops her up. No twinge in his back, no stress on his arms. Bearing Sally effortlessly up the stairs. Past a mantle groaning under the weight of awards. Emmys, Oscars, hell, maybe even a Tony. Barry doesn’t think he can sing for shit. But maybe here, he can.
Into the bedroom. She smiles. A secret, welcoming smile. Perhaps Barry saw this last night and replicated it for his musings. Or perhaps he misconstrued her invitation even then. Regardless, now he turns her around. Sally following along. No questions, no objections. Because this is his Sally. His wife. His dream. A Sally overflowing with love and eager to be possessed.
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On the way to Natalie's party, Barry envisions his future with Sally.
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Over a year of hopping from one emptiness to another. Wigs and sunglasses and baseball caps. Shielding their identities from nobodies. At first, Sally thought it was fun. Maybe even a little sexy. Adapting to a new character every few hundred miles. Stretching her acting muscles to the breaking point as she tried to inhabit Barry’s vision.
But Barry’s sight seemed blurred. While his face healed, his mind fractured. Enemies materializing around every corner. Only to evaporate when he squinted. Or made the mistake of telling Sally. Yes, Sally. The love of his life, who not six months ago kicked him to the curb. Sometimes, late at night with an abyss of country before them, Barry wondered if she was even real. Often reaching across the center console while she slept to trickle fingers through her blonde hair. Just checking. Just in case.
But in this trailer, partially furnished and blank, a painting the artist can’t quite finish, Barry believes Sally is here. Because the Sally of his dreams would never scowl at him like that.
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Fed up with prairie life, Sally takes out her frustrations on Barry's ass.
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More than anything Barry wants to sleep. After their fight last night, he has no energy for whatever this is. But he knows if he yells, if he shuts down, Sally might run. And he might never, ever find her. So he paints on a smile, features wonked with exhaustion. “Sure, what’s up?”
Sally hushes. Looks around as if someone, as if God, might overhear. “I was wondering if, um… If you could, you know…”
Barry doesn’t know. His nostrils flare. A fist flexes, but he doesn’t push. No use in making her cry. Again.
Finally, her hazel eyes crawl across the floor with a voice softer than a dormouse. “If you could eat me.”
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Miserable in their desolate trailer life, Sally asks Barry to swallow her sadness.
Series
- Part 1 of BDSM (Babes, Donuts, Snacks, and Meals)🍩