#seditiosvs

His sweat smells like whiskey and beer and nicotine, and when he runs his tongue along her neck, Xu wants to vomit, even as she’s tearing apart his belt, even as she feels heat swell between her legs. 

Her dress is discarded, and his hands are on her breasts, groping like a teenage boy at his first opportunity. He’s a fucking animal. She hates herself for being here, for not leaving, for wanting this, because maybe she’ll feel something again. 

“Are you going to fuck me or not?” she demands, cruelly, her hand rough inside his boxers, and he pushes her away, down onto what passes for a bed but is little more than a camp cot. She undoes the clasp of her bra before he can break it, he tears her panties anyway, satin and lace shredding beneath an iron grip. 

When he forces her on her hands and knees, and her hair is yanked back, his hand coming up around her throat, Xu can’t say she wasn’t expecting it.