A little something I wrote for a roleplay that I felt like sharing on here. Jake is Imogen's friend, and she's been in love with Eli but never been with him. Her nightmare stems from dealing with being raped a few nights before.
Flash.
In the alley.
Flash.
In her bedroom.
Flash.
In his bedroom.
The scenes changed, the people changed, but the situation never did. No matter where she was or who she was with, she could feel herself being suffocated, her lungs threatening to give out. Pain was there instead of pleasure. Hits, scratches, bites, slaps.
This wasn't what she was used to.
Each guy's face was vaguely familiar, but not recognizable. But each one had a cruel smile and eyes to match, and all she wanted to do was run.
"You-you don't scare me!" she'd try to shout, but his hand would collide with her cheek, and it would shut her up. She was trapped under him, his hands placed on either side of her so she could never leave. She swore with every push, every thrust, her body broke a little more. She was being torn from the inside out.
"Please, stop," she'd beg, but to no avail.
"Please, stop."
A different face, a different place.
A familiar scent, a familiar texture. Familiar skin rubbing against her.
Opening her eyes and seeing Jake made her feel safe. Almost.
Why did the pain only get worse? He was her protector, he was her friend. Why was this hurting her? Tears began to gather in her eyes, and she whimpered for him to stop. This didn't feel good, couldn't he tell?
He leans down and kisses her, and the taste is the same. The lips are the same. But who is he, really? He wouldn't be doing this to her. "Please, stop," she begs, but he shakes his head and smiles at her as he runs a hand through her hair.
A different face, a different place.
A familiar gaze, a familiar smirk. Familiar bed sheets underneath her.
Now this couldn't be right. In her wildest fantasies, things never went like this. He was quiet, his face was cold, but the act was still being done. And for some reason, the pain had intensified tenfold. Why was he doing this to her?
"I love you," he whispers, and she's confused. He's never loved her, he never had never would.
"You're hurting me," she announces as pain rips up through her lower body through her torso. A blow to the face, and the shock. He hit her, he really wanted to hurt her. Nothing was an accident, he knew what he was doing. Another slap, and she cries out. She feels like curling into a ball, but she can't because he's thrusting into her, and she hates this.
She's supposed to be loving this, she's supposed to be feeling warm and happy and good. She couldn't help but feel like he hated her as she lay underneath him, watching him hover over her. She felt exposed and raw and vulnerable, and this wasn't right. She's supposed to feel loved and love him like she always has, but she can't because the pain is beginning to sear through her like fire. She's thrashing in vain now, trying to get away, trying to push him off. Why is he doing this to her?
"I love you," he says again.
"You're hurting me," she gasps, and she should have expected this from him.
"Please, stop."
"Please, stop."
"Please, stop."
Sleep was never her friend.
Author's Note: So basically, to sum up what the story meant: Imogen is terrified of getting hurt, and it seems that the people she loves hurt her the most.