✓ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 || 𝐫.𝐧.

010 | 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐘/𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 know how long it's been since the incident at the Owl Motel occurred. All she knows is that a decent chunk of time passed, Rusty Nail's growing beard is a dead giveaway, but he tries to maintain it. In his words he "wants to look best for her". It makes Y/n sick, knowing just how twisted this man's mind truly is.

What he told her when she first got here, about the only reason that he spared her was because she tried to stop what Fuller started, was a crock of shit. It was clear that he wasn't telling her something. Something that he didn't want her to know yet, but that's a bit ironic because he wasn't trying to hide it—Rusty Nail is attracted to her and in his twisted mind, this is his perverted way of showing it.

Thankfully though, he hasn't tried anything, but he has infiltrated her personal space bubble countless times. He who bound the knots of her restraints but would also stroke her hair through the night, even as she writhed and fought to end his life. Her pitiful excuse of threats would only achieve one thing: making Rusty Nail laugh and whenever he would chuckle at her intimidating remarks, it would disintegrate what little resolve and fight she had left in her.

Tonight wasn't much different from the rest. Y/n laid in the best that she first arrived in, as per usual, as Rusty began to go through his nightly routine—which wasn't much, but did bide her some time to herself. "Need to get out of here..." she craned her neck to look up at the restraint keeping her hands together. It was tied pretty tightly. She was going to need more than just a couple of minutes to try to untie it.

She used all her might to pull her hands down, trying desperately to get it close to her mouth— as that's the only tool that's at her disposal— whilst trying to be as discreet and quiet as possible since Rusty was inside the restroom that was connected to the bedroom she was staying in and to top it all off, he left the door open, just so he can hear whatever commotion Y/n was making. He has yet to check up on her by poking his head out, but his keeping the light on was handy since she can always stop when she sees his silhouette slowly approaching.

"Come on, come on..." Y/n groaned and her fingers fumbled desperately against the unforgiving knots, her wrists throbbing with pain from the tight restraint. The coarse rope bit into her skin, leaving marks as a testament to her struggles. The strain in her arms intensified as she tried to free herself, the prolonged ordeal taking its toll.

And as soon as Rusty emerged from the bathroom, Y/n quickly halted her attempts, feigning nonchalance. She averted her eyes, pretending to focus on some imaginary point in the room. The discomfort in her wrists and the dull ache in her arms were silent witnesses to her silent struggle. "Aw, darlin', did you hurt yourself?" Rusty asked, concerned— genuinely concerned— when he saw the irritated red spots forming on her wrists.

Y/n clenched her jaw. It's not wise to sass him or get on his bad side. That's what she's been telling herself for the entirety of her stay here. So, she let out a defeated sigh before replying with a meek, "I'll be fine..."

Rusty Nail's presence loomed over Y/n as he settled onto the bed, his proximity sending shivers down her spine. The irritated red spots on her wrists silently screamed, a testament to the struggle she'd endured. "Hm..." he grumbled, unconvinced, and proceeded to reach his hand out, a conflicting mixture of apprehension and an unexplainable sensation gripped Y/n.

His index finger delicately traced the inflamed skin, attempting to offer a strange kind of solace. The touch, though intended to be soothing, felt invasive, stirring emotions within Y/n. She didn't like the way his touch was making her feel, mostly because she didn't know how to describe it. She averted her gaze, unable to meet his eyes, the conflicting emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

The room held a tense silence, broken only by the faint rustle of fabric and the hushed breaths that escaped Y/n's lips. She couldn't deny the peculiar draw she felt toward Rusty Nail's touch, despite the unsettling circumstances. It felt nice. As much as she hated to admit it, it felt nice. Chewing the bottom of her lip, she leaned into his touch. It was something that didn't go unnoticed by Rusty. He froze when she did it and at the same time, stopped giving her small injuries attention as he stared at the h/c-haired woman with wide eyes.

After having a moment to process what just happened, Rusty chuckled. "You're gonna be the death of me, Little Dove." He said. He laid down beside her, pulling her close in an unexpected embrace. Y/n's stomach churned with conflicting emotions, caught in a whirlwind of confusion. The warmth of his body against hers stirred a sensation she struggled to define. "You're such a good girl..." He added. While Y/n always enjoyed being praised, she found it difficult to cope with the adulation of the very man who not only murdered her friends in cold blood but abducted her too.

But... as Rusty held her, Y/n's face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and a perplexing warmth. Her heart raced, torn between the fear of captivity as they lay entwined.

Just what was he playing at...?