Quiet, Kitten || dnf

Act II: Part 3

Well I'm finally officially done with junior year so that's something

ig that makes me a senior now- 😳😳 kinda scary ngl

Anyways

TW: PTSD, flashbacks of non-con/rape, nightmares, panic attack

Previously...

I'm brought back to reality by the radio, smooth guitar worming its way into my thoughts.

I like this a lot more than thinking. The guitar is calming, and I find my eyes closing peacefully, easily lulled into sleep's woolen arms.

Fuck you, Cole.

George's P.O.V.

~non con warning~

I can't escape. Cole is holding me down, my wrists pinned down to the bed. My face is wet with the river of tears spilling over my eyes (A/N: writing my own name in this sense is kinda wack).

I can hear him cooing and grunting from behind me, kicking my legs further apart to better pleasure himself. I'm fully sobbing into the comforter, barely able to breathe from my face being squished into the fabric.

Was this how I was going to die? It sure felt like it. Honestly, it would be a lot better than having to continue to live and suffer through this.

Cole moans loudly from behind me, thrusting in deep before I felt warmth explode in me. It wasn't a happy feeling.

~warning over~

I sit up quickly, gasping for breath. I glance around, absolutely terrified that Cole was going to pop out of somewhere and punish me for disobeying.

The first thing that I notice is that I can't breathe. I can't. Do I even want to?

"Be a good kitten."

I felt my stomach do backflips, nausea building. I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I CAN'T BREATHE-!

"Hey, George? Can I come in?" Nononononono-

"George?" Ohmygodhe'sgoingtohurtmepleasenoIdon'twantit-

"George?" The door handle twists, and I suck in a hitched breath. Holy fuck not right now please just go away I don't want it-!

"George, can you hear me? Um... breathe, deep breaths. Like I'm doing, see?" I somehow manage to look at him. Much to my surprise, Cole isn't here.

He isn't here. I'm safe. He can't hurt me.

Instead of Cole, Dream is sitting in front of me, breathing dramatically. Or is it just normal breathing? It's certainly dramatic compared to the pitiful stillness of my chest.

"George. Breathe." I look him in the eye, sucking in air. The tightness in my chest loosens.

"Keep breathing, just like that. You're ok. You're safe here."

I'm safe here.

My lungs burn with each fresh gulp of oxygen. Was breathing always this difficult? I can't remember.

"There you go, that's good. Are you ok?" Dream asks, tilting his head. His expression is a combination of worry and stress, and I want nothing more than to just fall into his arms and let him tell me everything would be ok.

Even if I knew it wasn't.

But I can't do that. I don't want to be touched, I can't be touched. I would just spiral back into a gasping, panicking mess.

I know Dream wouldn't hurt me. At least, I don't think he would. Then again, I didn't think Cole would hurt me either.

I push myself backwards, away from him. If Cole hurt me, then Dream could too. I don't want to be touched again, just leave me alone, leave me alone-

"Alright... I know you're clearly not ok, but I don't really know what I can do about that. I'm really sorry, George, but I promise he won't ever hurt you again. He's going to be locked up for a long time." He can't hurt me. Dream said so. "And I promise you, if he ever dares lay a finger on you again, I'll kill him." Dream is deadly serious, and that brings both fear and reassurance to my mind.

"You're safe here. Wilbur and I wouldn't hurt you, I promise. I hope you can believe me." Dream glanced down at his lap, playing with a loose string on his shirt. "I won't let anybody hurt you anymore."

My mind was screaming at me, telling me to do something. To tell Dream that I trusted him. To tell him to go away. Just to do something.

But I just sat there, staring blankly. I guess this is my life now, isn't it?

Mm I wrote this like 3 days ago lmao sorry y'all

I've just been extra tired lately but its officially summer break now and I can sleep in past 7 finally 😌😌