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flowerandblood · 3 months

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The Void of the Sky

[ canon • Ettore x doctor's assistant • female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, sex content, smut, angst, domination kink, aggressive behavior, rape attempts, violence, swearing, unprotected sex, description of wounds ]

[ description: Ettore decides to take part in a space experiment from which he guesses he will never return. Already on the ship, his attention is drawn to a young girl who turns out to be the assistant of the fucked-up doctor Dibs. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension. ]

Author's note: This is my first story with Ettore, which was inspired by a request, it was supposed to be just a oneshot. This was very strange and disturbing to write, let me know if you would like further parts describing the story of this couple!

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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He already knew this when he sat in this fucking ship, when he saw her in front of him – her tired, terrified gaze, her resignation, her fear. She looked at him as if believing that no matter what he had done in the past he understood her and what she was experiencing, that they were going through what was about to happen to them together.

What they were doomed to.

They glanced at each other all the way to the space station from which they were to fly away never to return. He watched her wordlessly – her long lashes, her pleasantly rounded cheeks, her plump, puffy lips glistening in the disturbing blue light.

He thought, looking boredly around the ship at the other female faces, that if he had to choose which one he would fuck first, he would choose her.

She was pretty, her figure girlish, she seemed fragile to him – he decided that he would easily squash her to the mattress or the floor, one or two punches of his fist on that soft face and she would let him do to her whatever he wanted.

He knew that, like him, all the crew members selected for the mission were criminals sentenced to life imprisonment and he wondered what such an inconspicuous person could have done.

Perhaps she was not as vulnerable as she seemed to him at first glance.

He grinned involuntarily at the thought, deciding that he needed to find out.

How much force he would have to put in to get her to finally stop resisting him, whether he would have to hit her face with his fist until she lost consciousness, making her look like a squashed tomato, or whether it would be enough for him to choke her a little, ordering her to shut up the fuck.

He sighed quietly, tilting his head back, feeling a pleasant pulsing in his cock at the thought, recognising that sooner or later he would put his plan into action.

He was patient.

As it turned out, she wasn't a regular crew member, but an assistant to Dr Dibs, that dumb whore playing God, who on top of that announced that there was a complete prohibition on sexual intercourse on the spaceship.

He would come into their office to give his sperm just to look at her; while Dr Dibs was sitting over the microscope, apparently selecting the most fertile ova, she was writing something, obviously taking notes, always looking at him when he came in – he would grin involuntarily, wondering if she had heard the smack of his hand against his balls while he was jerking off.

As he left, handing Dibs the vessel, he always looked at her, but she no longer bestowed a single glance on him, frustrating him.

"I want my treat." He growled in her direction, wishing she would bestow at least one fucking look on him and not act like a spoiled little bitch, but it was Dibs who would give him the pill, which he would immediately put in his mouth, not taking his eyes off her as he left.

He knew she sensed what he wanted to do to her and was prepared for it.

It was a simple, animal, primal need.

He could satisfy it with anyone or by himself, but he always came back to her anyway.

To his displeasure, it turned out that her position for some reason came with additional privileges, such as a separate cabin in which she slept.

She did not have to clean or tend the garden, her duties being limited to taking notes, treating wounds and overseeing the energy system of the entire spaceship.

She was the opposite of Dr Dibs and her cool sociopathy – he knew that on several occasions she had helped the female part of the crew to get rid of the unwanted effect of her experiment.

Once, while wiping the floor on his knees, he witnessed Dibs slap her, apparently realizing that she was acting behind her back.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? Don't you ever do that again. Do you understand? Your job is to make reports." She hissed, digging her finger into her chest – she snorted under her breath, staring at her with pity and moved ahead.

"You will never become a mother." She said calmly, walking past him, throwing him one intense look before disappearing behind the door of her cabin.

He watched her like a predator, her routine, her habits – he knew exactly her schedule, hours and days of the week when she replaced Dibs in her duties.

One day, knowing that she would be alone and the rest of the crew were busy with their tasks, he left the garden and headed for her office, deciding that this was the day.

He stood in the doorway without making a sound, simply looking at her, her back turned to him, bent over some pills which she was obviously sorting.

He approached her silently, his large hand muffling the scream of surprise that broke from her throat – he cursed loudly as she, with a swift, sure movement, stabbed his arm with a scalpel which she apparently had hidden in the pocket of her medical apron.

He let her go, enraged, pulling the blade out of his arm with a hiss and slapped her across the face with all his might. She fell to the ground as if stunned and stupefied – with a brutal movement he flipped her onto her back and crushed her with his body, trying to slide down his trousers.

"− don't you fuckin' dare −" He growled, grabbing her quickly by the wrist in which she held another scalpel. He snatched it forcibly from between her fingers and threw it far to the floor with a clang of steel, his hands quickly searched her pockets for other sharp objects – he grinned under his breath as he felt a razor blade under his fingertips.

"− I see you've prepared well, hm? − like to struggle a bit first? −" He asked with some kind of amusement while she drew in the air loudly and slammed him on the head with her forehead using all her strength – he growled with rage and punched her in the face with his fist, clenching his fingers on her cheeks, a big red bruise under her eye.

She didn't scream or lash out, she just looked at him, breathing hard, trying to push him away – he wondered how there was so much fucking strength and will to fight in such a small petite being.

"− Ettore, for fuck's sake − use the box −" She growled angrily, feeling him rub his swollen erection between her thighs, an impatient, loud sigh of pleasure escaped his lips.

"− I prefer your cunt − tight and warm −" He gasped as he grabbed the material of her panties with an aggressive, sure motion of his fingers, ripping them off in one violent stroke – she surprised him when she lifted herself up and bit his cheek as hard as if she wanted to bite off a big piece of his skin.

"− FUCK − FUCK − LET GO, YOU FUCKIN' WHORE! −" He groaned hitting her on the head with his open palm – he heard a scream behind him a moment later, Dibs and Monte ran into the office, dragging him away.

She was lying on her back breathing heavily, looking at him and shook her head disapprovingly, as if he was a small disobedient child, her lips red with his blood.

"− let him go, Monte −" She said softly, adjusting the material of her skirt, Dr Dibs helped her up and looked at him tightening her lips, her brow furrowed in disapproval.

"− fucking animal − you're prohibited from using the box for five days −" Dibs ordered, and he snarled under his breath, pulling himself out of Monte's grasp and left, calling her a stupid old cunt under his breath, rubbing his sore cheek.

Small wounds in the shape of her teeth remained on his face for the next few days, making him realize that the matter would not be as easy as he thought.

She was unpredictable.

Just like him.

He would annoy and provoke Monte and Tcherny to get into a fight with them only to have them beat the crap out of him, and he would end up at her door with cut lips, bruises and other injuries that she was obliged to take care of.

She did this, but she always strapped him to the doctor's chair first, tightening special black belts around his wrists, attached to the whole structure at the sides of his body so that he couldn't touch her.

His manhood throbbed greedily in his trousers as she leaned over him, her face calm and focused, sad, her hand holding cotton swabs soaked in antiseptic liquid to gently wash his swollen, sore wounds.

She never used latex gloves, as if she was thus allowing him at least a little intimacy, the touch of her naked body.

He pressed his cheek to her palm, closing his eyes, and she froze for a moment, letting him feel the warmth and softness of her skin – she smelled of soap, her fingers long and delicate, made only for admiration, not defence.

He sighed when she stroked his cheek with her thumb, not opening his eyes – he could feel her looking at him, her warm breath enveloping his face.

"You have to stop." She said quietly, but her soft fingers didn't stop brushing his face. They ran over it like a map, touching his mouth, nose, cheeks, eyebrows, jaw so gently and tenderly that he just fell asleep – he thought he felt her warm, moist lips pressed against his forehead for a moment.

When he woke up, he was already unstrapped, there was no one in the office.

Eventually he began to come to her for no reason, circling around the doctor's office pretending with curiosity to look at what stood on the shelves and in the cabinets – he saw out of the corner of his eye that there were always a few scalpels lying next to her on the desk, just in case.

"You shouldn't be here." She sighed, bent over her notes as usual. He hummed under his breath, glancing at one of the containers filled with pills – he shook it, and they clattered loudly inside.

"You don't take part in these fucked-up experiments of Dibs. You don't use the box. Why?" He asked casually, putting his hands in the pockets of his red trousers, turning and heading towards the gynaecology chair, looking at it intrigued.

"I prefer the touch of my own hand. It's soft and warm." She replied calmly, writing something down quickly.

He glanced at her over his shoulder, wondering whether or not she would have had time to grab a scalpel in her hand if he had stepped behind her and knocked her over along with the chair.

"What about the touch of someone else's hand? Hm?" He grunted, heading towards her, but she stood up; he stopped seeing that her hand immediately reached for the blade and clamped down on it confidently, her breasts rising and falling in accelerated breath.

"No." She said warningly.

"I think about it every day, you know? About what I would do to you, how wet your pussy would be for me. Cuz I know you're wet now. Always lookin' at me with those big fuckin' puppy eyes." He muttered, making another attempt, walking forward with a slow, lazy step, her hand holding the blade raised.

"Put it the fuck down. We'll do it either your way or my way. No third option. Take of your panties. C'mon." He encouraged her with a nod, not pulling his hand out of his trousers, his swollen, throbbing cock clearly outlined against the material of his pants.

She stared at him in disbelief, breathing loudly – he bit his bottom lip seeing that she lowered her hand slowly, her gaze scared and distrustful, full of doubt.

"We'll do it my way." She mumbled quietly.

"Fine." He replied indifferently, feeling that he was completely hard, waiting for her move.

He watched as she flicked sheets of paper off her desk with her free hand, sitting down on it, still holding the scalpel in her other hand.

"Come." She said softly, spreading her thighs wide – he approached her, without asking pulling her shoes off her feet, sliding the material of her underwear off her thighs, his movements confident and swift.

He stood in front of her, with a nimble flick of his fingers releasing his swollen, throbbing erection from under his trousers and drew her to him, putting his arm around her waist – she placed her hand on his chest, her lips parted slightly, her gaze hazy and dark, her body trembling in his embrace.

"− don't be brutal − take it slow −" She muttered in a shaky voice, and he only snorted under his breath with a grin, recognising that he had waited so long for this that he could actually enjoy the moment, feeling that he wouldn't last long anyway.

He grasped his manhood in his hand giving it a few sure, quick squeezes and guided its pink, thick head against her entrance, glistening from her wetness in the red light.

They both sighed as he began to push into her, doing so at an agonising pace from which they both closed their eyes, her fleshy insides hot and tight, pulsing all around him, sucking him inside.

"− ah − yes −" She whispered and he licked his lips, forcing her to fit it all in with deep, slow thrust of his fat cock, his large palms digging into the pleasantly soft skin of her plump buttocks as she mewled from exertion.

"− fuck −" She mumbled, obviously surprised by his size and how shocking the sensation was after such a long period of sexual abstinence, his manhood all sticky with her moisture.

She put her arms around his neck as he slid out of her slowly almost all the way, only to sink again into her warm walls with a calm, unhurried motion of his hips, both of them watching as his swollen length spread her wide open.

"− fuckin' knew it − just look at it − such a perfect little pussy −" He purred out delighted with the sensation, never having done it this way before in his life, his cock twitched all over with pleasure deep inside her, making him know he wouldn't last long.

Although he could just take what he wanted, he liked what he felt, the heat and tension wonderfully filling his lower abdomen each time the thrust of his hips forced him inside her warm, pulsing core again.

He pressed his forehead against hers when he heard her first shy moans, running his lips over hers, puffy, moist and soft, not giving her full kisses, speeding up suddenly, their naked bodies smacking against each other with loud, sticky splats.

"− oh God −" She whimpered, stroking his neck and cheeks. She burshed his lips tentatively, looking up at him with dreamy eyes as his cock slammed deep into her delicate body again and again – he grabbed her by the hair with one hand, tilting her head back with a brutal movement of his arm.

"− when you need to fuck, you will come to me − if I catch you touching yourself, you'll suck my cock until you start chokin' on my cum, that's how many times I'm going to come down your throat − got it? −" He exhaled in between sure, deep, aggressive thrusts, his cock rooting into her faster and faster with loud slaps of his naked thighs against her buttocks, barely slipping out of her – he felt her clench hard on him at his words, giving him a wonderful squeeze from which he groaned low.

"− y-yes −" She mumbled, responding to his thrusts by bucking her hips out towards him – he snorted, smirking spitefully, somehow impressed by her devotion, his thighs all sticky from her moisture.

"− that's my girl − fuck, 'm close −" He gasped in delight, pounding into her like mad, the tips of his fingers digging into her hot, firm buttocks.

"− n-no, not inside me! −" She mewled out but he closed her mouth with his, forcing his tongue deep into her throat, muffling her moans, clamping his hands firmly on her ass so she couldn't escape him, cumming with a loud sigh of relief, his warm semen spilling deep inside her.

She cried out in rage and slapped his shoulder, clenching her eyes shut, coming hard on his cock. He felt convulsions run through her whole body, her walls began to clench against him and suck him inside – he kept pounding into her for a while with sloppy, messy thrusts of his hips.

He pushed her closer to him with a brutal gesture, embracing her around the waist, his other hand holding her hair so that her puffy, sweet lips didn't pull away from his, kissing her lazily for a while longer, continuing to rock inside her with the lewd click of their shared moisture.

He pressed his forehead against hers, breathing hard, looking at her with curiosity and satisfaction, thinking that perhaps they would find common ground after all.

"− see you tomorrow − and no fuckin' touching −"

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General Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@triscy @re-per @diiickbrainn @queenofshinigamis @eponaartemisa @zaldritzosrose @writerloversjm @lauzy87 @targaryenrealnessdarling @briefcollectivepersona @ginarely-blog @lcecgg

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 4 months

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Know What You Are

Pairing: Ettore (High Life) x f!reader Warnings: Allusions to trauma, oral sex (m receiving), smut Word count: ~1k

Summary: Ettore explores the boundaries of consensual touch, and finds he isn't ready to relinquish control just yet.

Author's note: A little addition to The Hand that Feeds but can also be read as a standalone. Day three of the Smuffmas prompts - "in nature and deep throating". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She loves the garden. It’s the only place aboard the ship that doesn’t feel sterile and bathed in artificial light. Digging her fingers into the softness of the soil, allowing the rich, earthy scent to fill her nostrils, she can forget that she’s a prisoner. Every brush of soft green leaves against her skin is like a fleeting taste of freedom.

Her place on board is not undeserved. To some, taking revenge on the man who has raped you would be seen as wholly justified. To a jury, however, the violence of such an act was considered despicable. But it had felt good to watch the way his eyes had gouged from their sockets, to feel the way the knife had sliced through his flesh like butter, all the way to the bone. If she closes her eyes she can still smell the coppery tang of arterial blood. It makes her mouth water. She had enjoyed it, and to derive such pleasure from such depravity is well worth where she finds herself now. She’d do it a thousand times over.

Getting acquainted with fellow inmate, Ettore, has made her time here infinitely more interesting. She had noticed him straight away. Without confirming what he was here for, she’d been able to hazard a guess, it was obvious in how he carried himself. And more than apparent that she’d caught his eye too, he was always watching her.

She ought to be disgusted by him, knowing what he is, what he’s probably done, but there is something lurking beneath the surface that draws her to him, an invisible string that tugs them both together. It has only grown stronger since their first tryst in the Box; him spilling himself onto her stomach with his face pressed between her tits.

He doesn’t allow her to touch him, but despite this she knows she’s the one in control. His desperation for her makes him vulnerable, and she enjoys toying with that, seeing how far she can push him. It’s been days since his hips had rutted against hers, taking her roughly from behind in a storage cupboard, so she knows he’ll be back soon. The Box can’t satisfy him like she can.

She senses him before she sees him, as if the mere occurrence of him entering her thoughts has summoned him to her. His approach is always silent, she never hears him coming, but she can feel his presence. He looms over her, casting a shadow over her prone form as she kneels in the soil, plucking away the browning leaves of a fern.

“Did you want something, or you just lurking?” She asks, not looking up from what she’s doing.

“Tchemy in here with you?” Ettore asks, his tone nonchalant.

“You know he’s not, or you wouldn’t be in here,” she says, ridding herself of her gardening gloves and turning to look up at him.

She begins to rise, preparing to stand, when he holds out a hand to halt her.

“Don’t,” he says abruptly. “Just…don’t. Let me just look at you for a bit.”

She drops back to her knees, staring up at him, watching the way his eyes darken as he looks down at her. It makes her core throb with want.

His throat bobs as he reaches out a hand, fingertips dragging with light pressure over her jaw, before falling to her throat, squeezing experimentally. She allows it for a moment, before pulling back.

“Stop that,” she scolds softly, narrowing her eyes in angry warning. “You don’t need to do that with me. Use your words. Tell me what you want.”

He blinks, huffing through his nose, before bringing his hand back to her face, pulling down her bottom lip with his thumb, before letting it go. “This,” he utters, “want your mouth.”

“Good boy,” she purrs, “go on then.”

“Hands behind your back,” he orders, pulling down his scrubs and freeing his already half hard cock.

She does as she’s told, parting her lips to allow him to slide into the warmth of her mouth. He is tangy against her tongue, the head of him pressing heavily against the wet muscle as he gives a few shallow, tentative thrusts, rousing himself fully.

Breathing through her nose, she inhales the heady scent of him, faint sweat mixed with the ship’s standard issue soap. It’s utterly debasing in a way, yet it has arousal wetting her underwear just the same.

Drool gathers at the corners of her mouth as he picks up the pace, and she suppresses the urge to gag as he repeatedly knocks the back of her throat.

His brows are knitted together, eyes glassy and jaw slack as he gathers a fistful of her hair at the back of her head, using it as leverage to propel himself faster and harder. She relaxes, allowing him to push down further and moans around him, causing him to groan and throw his head back.

Pushing himself all the way into the hilt, Ettore’s grasp on her hair is so tight it tugs at her roots, and he holds himself there, pubic bone grazing the tip of her nose. She looks up at him with glassy eyes, stray tears trickling down her cheeks as she watches his predatory expression, but he is unmoving.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Finally he pulls back, all the way out, a string of her saliva connecting his hardened length to her lips, and she gasps and splutters for air momentarily, before he’s pushing back in.

His thrusts are shallower, salty precome and the pulsating of him in her mouth letting her know he’s nearing his end. When he finally climaxes it’s accompanied by a strangled cry and she quickly swallows, barely registering the viscous taste of him as it slides down her throat.

Releasing her, he tucks himself away and is breathless as he drops to his knees beside her. She wipes her mouth with the back one hand and swipes at her teary eyes with the other.

“I really…really want to hurt you,” he whispers, not looking at her. “But I can’t bring myself to do it.”

“I get that,” she says gently, “really, I do.”

“You’ve seen me,” he says, looking into her eyes. The emotion she sees reflected back at her makes her heart lurch.

“Yeah,” she replies, “and you’ve seen me.”

#ettore x reader #ettore #ettore x you #ettore x y/n #ettore smut #ettore imagine #high life #ettore high life #high life ettore #ewan mitchell #ettore fan fiction #ettore fanfiction #ettore fanfic #ettore fan fic #high life fan fiction #high life fanfiction #high life fan fic #high life fanfic

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myfandomprompts · 5 months

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Corporate needs you to find the difference between this picture and this picture.

#they're the same picture #ewan mitchell #ccxp23 #ewan nation #genyen #bbc doctors #ettore #high life #usermyfandomprompts #ewan mitchell meme

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kawaii-st0ner · 3 months

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This weed I've been getting lately has been 🔥🔥🔥

Cherry Payton ✨️🍒

#me #ganja girls #420 #weed #stoner #gwsw #marijuana #personal #high life #pretty nugs #pretty weed #420life #daily high club #stanky danky #dank

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thecruel · 6 months

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What about my treat?

HIGH LIFE 2018 — dir. Claire Denis

#filmedit #ewanmitchelledit #ettore #high life #ewan mitchell #number one Freak #i could fix it but his lil red ears :(((#gif

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barbieaemond · 3 months

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Ewan Mitchell in High Life | 2018

#ewan mitchell #barbieaemondgifs #ettore #high life

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hoosbandewan · 5 months

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EWAN MITCHELL MANNERISMS IN DIFFERENT ROLES

Ewan Wiggles World on Fire (2019), High Life (2018), The Halcyon (2017), Trigger Point (2022), Doctors (2017), and The Last Kingdom (2020)

And the gif that inspired this post:

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 13 days

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𝗖𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗴

this one's pretty gross ngl lol

Summary: You thought you could get away with one more adrenaline rush before the mission kills you.

Warnings: DARK NONCON, SMUT (MINORS DNI), mentions of murder, rape, torture, and necrophilia, serial killer!reader, sexual violence, slapping, punching, misogyny, blood and pain kink, degradation, humiliation, oral (m!receiving), (painal) anal, ass to pussy, forced orgasm, creampie, and death

word count | 3.2k🤙🏻

As you sat staring at your own reflection in the two way mirror across from you, your hair a mess and dried blood lightly splattered across your face, sticky hands cuffed to the cold metal table, you started to wonder what led you here in the first place.

You were never abused or neglected. You didn’t have any head injuries growing up. In most ways, you were a perfectly normal girl. Your parents loved you, you had friends, a steady job that made you good money, so how the hell did you end up here?

You thought back to your childhood. You had witnessed many of your parents’ arguments, perhaps that was the cause? Or maybe seeing one too many horror movies? Listening to the wrong type of music? Were you just born with a screw loose? There had to be some sort of explanation for why you would have committed such horrid, atrocious acts. Maybe you’d never know. Perhaps it would be better if you didn’t. Maybe there was no need for closure. Maybe you just wanted an answer more for your loved ones than for yourself. You could live without it, but your parents? You knew they definitely would need one.

You felt as though you should be terrified at the fact you were being held in a police station. Any moment some detectives would walk through that padlocked door and expect you to give them all the answers as to why you did what you did, to give them some sort of clarity and insight. But you still had no idea what you would say, sitting in that uncomfortable stiff chair for what felt like hours you couldn’t even come up with an answer to yourself.

That wasn’t the worst you were dreading.

How do you look your mother or father in the eyes after something like this? How can you even be in their presence? It’s a different kind of pain when your mother or father is crying because of you, because of something you did. The disappointment, the disgust, the fear. How do you go from your father’s little girl or mother’s precious baby to this, a murderer? Would they blame themselves? Probably, even though it wouldn’t have been their fault. You knew this too, it could never be your parents’ fault. They did the best they could, which is all anyone could ask for. But facing them would be the hardest thing you would ever have to do. You saw the way they looked at you, like you weren’t their daughter anymore. You weren’t really, the daughter they knew wouldn’t have done what you did, had been doing for months. They didn’t raise you to be this way. You were an anomaly. You weren’t their child anymore, you were nothing to no one. Just another killer that needed to be behind bars, or better yet, a lethal injection.

You were destined to die, from the minute you were born. You probably deserved it, you did deserve it. Though death didn’t come by way of a lethal injection or prison violence like you assumed it would, no, it was much more interesting.

You never thought about what space was like, pondering the what if questions was never something you wasted your time on. But upon being assigned a space mission as a punishment, you were forced to wonder what it would be like. It didn’t seem like a punishment to you, you didn’t really care what happened to you mostly. It would be an elaborate way to die, that much you were sure of. Theatrical, is one of the first words that came to your mind. You weren’t scared, not much did scare you after all. What did slightly worry you, however, was the fact you’d be on this mission with several other individuals, most if not all of them there for the same reasons as you. Murderers, rapists, terrorists. What a motley crew it would be.

You knew Monty, through word of mouth. The two of you were in the same prison, segregated by gender of course, but you had heard of him. You could appreciate a familiar face in a very unfamiliar environment. He didn’t talk to you much, only when you both got assigned the same work detail. You both had strong similar opinions about the witch that played doctor and mad scientist that was on this mission with you all. You may or may not have made an agreement to eat her first if the station ran out of food. You might’ve considered him a friend, if you had the emotional availability for friends.

Who you never talked to, or even wanted to, was Ettore. Some kid done in for all kinds of sexual assault and violence, even some corpse fucking. I mean, if you’re desperate enough, you guessed. It’s not like you had any room to judge, considering. But even you thought the guy was a bit over the top. You were subtle, tried leaving no traces; Ettore was messy, no condom, coming inside every girl he forced himself on, his bloody fingerprints everywhere. Some people just weren’t smart enough to think of those things. Men hardly ever think things through. You didn’t know what he went through, but you didn’t find it in yourself to care. He was a monster, just like you.

Ettore stared at all the women on board, even the men sometimes, but you always felt his eyes on you. Maybe it was because you were closer to his age than all the others, but he just liked your appearance the most, but you didn’t appreciate it nevertheless. You thought about how pretty his shiny crimson blood would like coating your hands every time he made eye contact with you. Thought about how his gurgles would sound if you slit his throat, choking on his own blood.

You make promises to yourself. You say, you’re never going to do this thing again. You won’t ruin your life like this, you can’t. But then like all promises, you break them and you continue to destroy yourself and everything around you. It’s inevitable, like death. You crave and you ache and you feel like you can’t live if you can’t carry on with this obsession, you need to drown yourself in it. The pain of living with knowing that you’re a monster seems more appealing than the pain of never being able to fulfill that craving ever again. It’s a sacrifice you have to be willing to make. But the difference between people like you and normal people is that your cravings supersedes the want to be normal and live without guilt or remorse. You can’t have it both ways, and you understand that better than most. You figured Ettore knew that too, and that’s the only reason you started to take an interest in him.

Ettore never seemed remorseful for what he did, not like the others. The others had regrets, they wished to go back in time and change what happened, they never wanted to end up in space. Neither did you, but remorse wasn’t in your programming. Regret wasn’t something you ever learned. The world couldn’t handle people like you, not at that time.

You didn’t really know what you were looking for in Ettore, definitely not comfort, he couldn’t give it if he tried. But that’s not what you wanted either, you hated nice people but they were easier to take advantage of. You knew you wouldn’t be able to take advantage of Ettore, he’d be able to sniff that out from a mile away. You usually knew how to approach these things, how to approach your victims, but Ettore was different. He was like you, and you didn’t like that. You felt something you had never felt before; you felt threatened.

You and Ettore were assigned moping the station floors, a tedious endeavor, they’d just get dirtied up again. But this was your chance, to get rid of the threat once and for all. Dr. Dibs was a stupid cunt, for all those experiments she did, she couldn’t even spot you stealing one of her scalpels from her infirmary. Though, you figured she wouldn’t have cared that much anyway.

Ettore kept his eyes to the floor, mindlessly moping away at the tiled flooring. You removed the scalpel from the hiding place you made in your scrubs, gripping the handle firmly and plunging the blade down, aiming for the man’s neck. You barely made it halfway to your blade’s destination before Ettore grabbed your wrist, swiftly pinning you against the wall with a dark look in his eyes. You glared up at him, the feeling of having lost searing your insides.

Ettore easily overpowered you, holding both your wrists above your head with one hand and taking the scalpel in his other. He looked between you and the surgeon utensil with an almost amused expression. “Not the first time a woman’s ever tried to kill me.” He mused, “I’m sure that comes as a shock to ya.” His dry sense of humor didn’t sit well with you, though you didn’t have much of a sense of humor to begin with.

Instead of giving you a taste of your own medicine and killing you like you thought he would, he simply tore the blade through your scrubs top like it was second nature, exposing your breasts, your nipples hardening against the cold space station air. You heard him hum in appreciation, eyeing up your tits like they were a meal. “Not the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, but they’ll do.” You didn’t have time to be offended before asking yourself, ‘they’ll do’ for what?

You were suddenly slammed on the floor, your back hitting the tile hard, Ettore above you predatorily. “Get off me, you dick!” You seethed, struggling against his grasp.

Ettore pursed his lips, shoving his knee between your legs. “Nah, don’t think I will. Been wantin’ to have my way with ya for months. Thinking ‘bout your tight little holes every time I used that fuckin’ box. Don’t need it now.”

“Dibs will find out.”

He raised a brow. “Do you think that’s something I care about? Can’t imagine she’d be too thrilled about you tryna take a stab at me neither. Just shut your mouth and do as you’re told, and we won’t have any problems.” And just for good measure, the man atop you threw his fist across your face, blood and a tooth splattering to the once freshly cleaned floor. He groped at your breasts roughly, surely leaving bruises that would stay for awhile, if you even made it out of this encounter. You spat the rest of the blood that pooled in your mouth up at Ettore, watching the viscous fluid paint his fair complexion. “Bitch.” He spoke simply before ripping off the rest of your clothing and moved up to straddle your chest, his hardened member hovering right above your face. “Suck. Better feel no teeth or you’ll lose ‘em.”

“Piss off!” Ettore smirked as he muffled your protests by shoving his cock inside your mouth, thrusting with abandon, your whimpers and choked gasps only spurring him on further. You felt like you were going to pass out, his dick blocking your airway, only getting barely enough just so you could keep going. You hoped he’d stop soon, but you’d soon regret wishing for that.

With a grunt, he pulled out of your mouth and flipped you onto your stomach.

“Ettore!” You growled, trying to escape the heavy weight of his body, to no avail. You let out a yelp as he landed a harsh smack to your ass, a new feeling of panic washing over you as you felt his hands spread your cheeks and hocked up a wad of spit on your puckered hole. “No-! Not there, please!”

Ettore chuckled darkly, “I like hearing ya beg, do it again.”

Your brows furrowed in discomfort as you felt the blunt tip of his cock press up against your ass, pushing every so slightly. You decided you wouldn’t give in to this vicious man, no matter what. He was yours to kill and torture, not the other way around. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. “Fuck you.” You yelled out in pain as Ettore forced his cock in your ass to the brim, his thickness bringing tears to your eyes immediately, the unfamiliar pain almost unbearable. “Stop!”

“Nah, sweetheart, you asked for it. And I’m gonna give it to ya.” He grunted as he pulled out, only to push back in roughly. You cried out in pain as you felt your tissue tear inside, your own blood acting as a lubricant so Ettore’s cock could slide in and out more easily. Each thrust added another wave of pain throughout your entire body, sweat beading along your forehead and shivers going up your spine that hit the base of your skull. You hissed as he pinned your head down to the cold tile, your tears and sweat mixing and creating a puddle that you’d be forced to clean up later.

“H-Hurts…” Was all you could say, and when you thought the pain would go away, Ettore would just speed up his thrusts, tearing away at you for his own pleasure. You felt his cock throb inside you, pulsing as he finally came with a grunt, forcing his seed deep inside you.

You whimpered as he pulled out, his cum mixed with your blood pooling into another puddle of pain. You wondered if he was done with you. Was he exhausted of you? Ettore inadvertently answered your silent question when he flipped you over on your back, his blood covered cock still hard and standing at attention. “I’m almost tempted to make you clean up your mess here…” He smirked, “but I wanna fill up that pretty pussy of yours, have you leaking from both filthy holes.”

You growled, trying to kick at him only for him to force himself between your thighs. “You’ve had enough, Ettore, now let me go!”

Ettore furrowed his brows. “Enough? No, it’s never enough.” You let out an involuntary moan as his thick cock slid right in your cunt, not for the blood but your own slick making it a welcome intrusion. “Fuck, so wet and tight. You sure you’re not getting off on being taken like this, luv?” No, absolutely not, but you couldn’t really teach him a lesson about the body’s natural defense mechanisms at a time like this.

The harsh, sopping slaps of skin pierced your ears when it would’ve been an otherwise chillingly quiet hallway. It was peaceful at times, the silence deafening to the point it blocked out all the other noise, from outside and from within. Ettore had to taint that too. You felt like you were rotting from the inside out, each thrust his cockhead hit your cervix, making your toes curl and eyes roll to the back of your skull, an aching pleasure like lightning bolts shooting through you. Your loud moans were unavoidable when he pushed your legs back against your torso, making his cock hit deeper, his thrusts picking up speed as he kept hitting that sweet spot inside you. The wiry hairs that decorated Ettore’s pelvis rubbed up against your clit in tandem with his brutal thrusts, your orgasm creeping up on you like a curse.

You clenched hard around him as you came, earning a deep groan from the man, his seed spilling inside you. Perhaps in different circumstances, coming together would’ve been romantic. But alas, you had nothing but pure hatred for the man that was now trying to catch his breath above you, keeping a bruising grip on your legs as he came down from his high. Surely, he was done now, right? “You liked that, did ya? You want more, hm? I can give you more.”

You gave up trying to protest, knowing that it would only make him want you more, so you kept your mouth shut as he flipped you over again, entering you from behind. Your hands shook as his cock pile drived you, his body weight squishing you against the floor, your insides aching as the force of his thrusts moved them around. Unfortunately, you felt another orgasm bubbling up inside you, a growl escaping you as you felt betrayed by your own body. “Fuck!” Ettore moaned, “Your cunt’s squeezing me so fuckin’ tight. You fuckin’ love this cock, don’t ya, slut?” Rage coursed through you like your orgasms did, your moans and whimpers echoing the halls along with Ettore’s. Fuck him. Fuck this situation. You’d rather be dead.

Something shimmering caught your eye, your gaze shifting to spot your long forgotten scalpel laying just a few feet away from your body. If you could only reach…

“Mmm, maybe I’ll fuck a baby into you, maybe Dibs will give me special treatment as a reward.” Ettore chuckled darkly. “Maybe she’ll let me fuck you whenever I want.”

“Fuck you.” You spat venomously, yelping when Ettore suddenly flipped you over on your back and gave you a harsh slap.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch, and take this goddamn dick.” And when he raised his hand to deliver another slap, you opened your mouth and clamped down on his fingers with your teeth as hard as you could.

Ettore let out a satisfying yell, the tangy taste of his blood coating your mouth and arousing you like nothing else could, his flesh tearing and bones beginning to crack and fracture before he pulled away, clutching his injured hand. You quickly kicked him in his lower abdomen and then his chest, successfully shoving him to the floor, giving you the chance to grab the scalpel. You sliced open your palm as you grabbed the wrong end in a rush, stinging pain and adrenaline surging through you.

You screamed as Ettore pounced on top of you, trying to grab the tool from your hands, his fists beating down on your back and arms. You elbowed him in the side, hearing him gasp for air before you pushed him off, quickly straddling him, pinning his hands beneath your knees. “Fuck you!” You shouted in his face, bringing the blade down and plunging it into his stomach. “Fuck you!” You brought the blade down again, this time in his shoulder. With a pained yell and a groan, Ettore ejaculated beneath you, your pussy rubbing against his cock when you straddled him, giving him one last climax before you forced the scalpel into his neck.

You watched with a grin as dark, viscous blood poured out of his various wounds, him choking and gurgling on his own blood as it continuously filled his mouth. You couldn’t focus on anything else but the oozing tears in his flesh that you made, you didn’t notice anything else around you as you watched the life slowly drain from his eyes, his blood creating a large puddle that covered your own blood and his sticky spend, like it was never even there.

You lived for this. The feeling of taking someone’s life. It took a while to get that feeling back, a lot of effort and pain, but it was worth it. Even when you were caught by the other crewmates and Dibs, even when Dibs tortured you as punishment, the other prisoners shoving you outside of the airlock chamber for their own safety…

…it was totally worth it.

sorry, i love my happy endings🤷🏻‍♀️

#high life #high life 2018 #ettore #ettore x fem!reader #ettore x f!reader #ettore imagine #ettore smut #ettore x reader #ettore high life #dark

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