SCAM: Blake's 7.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Rating: I'm going NC17 on this one, simply because it's dark and not pretty in any way.
Set: post-Shadow.
Notes: RSR's fault, COMPLETELY. Although she wanted shallow-y fluff out of it, I think. Sorry.

Restraint by ALC Punk!

Hand across her mouth.

When this first happened, she simply went with it, passive until his fingers slid into her with intent.

Now it's too far for passivity, and she wonders dispassionately if her fingernails are really drawing blood when he thrusts into her.

Hand across her mouth.

No sound, no noise, just bodies slipping and sliding, wet sucking sounds and she wants to writhe and moan and scream, but this isn't how it works.

Ironically, she thinks he might understand the need to talk to moon discs, if he'd just pay attention.

Hand across her mouth.

She bites down on her lip, and the fingers stifle her scream as she sees stars in a blinding flash of light and overwhelming feeling and sound.

Hanna died, the little Shadow-head twisting and writhing into the ether. Cally saw her, but she was too busy with her own inner death. And now she's got tiny nerve-impulses dying across her skin.

Hand across her mouth.

His teeth bite into her shoulder as he spasms inside of her.

Avon is supposed to be so clinical, and she supposes he is, about this. And that's why he's so silent, never asking, never speaking.

Hand across her mouth.

There is no afterglow, no relaxed and joyous entanglement. He simply removes himself, and leaves.

This wasn't rape, but she never said yes. And she doesn't want to know whether he would have stopped if she said no.