The Assignment | Hux Stalker/Serial Killer AU

The Assignment: Part II

TWs: NSFW language and smut, edging, dirty talk, oral (male on female), mentions of abuse/illegal immigration/deportation, organ theft, non-consent, predatory characters and actions (none committed by the MMC), stalking, dub-con, blood, use of various weapons, violence, death/murder.

AN: Originally this was only going to be a oneshot, but the lovely friend I wrote this for was kind enough to agree to sharing one of the alternate endings I wrote for her (thank you LL!) since my stalker!Hux senses have been tingling for a while. 

Special thank you to my girls Ava and Cat for being my beta readers and getting me out of my own head because this continuation was a hop, skip, and a jump away from the trash X___X I don't know what I'd do without amazing friends like you! 

I hope you enjoy part 2. <3 

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You woke with a gasp, your eyes flying open, feeling as though that surge of adrenaline you'd felt when Hux pressed the cloth to your mouth and nose had fallen asleep with you, and woke just as violently. You bolted upright, your mind scrambling to make sense of what was happening. 

Of why you were still alive. 

You'd been sure, no matter what he'd promised, that Hux was going to kill you. Fucking didn't mean that you magically forgot about everything you knew. That he knew you knew the truth now. In those split seconds before you lost consciousness, you thought maybe the chloroform was his last kindness to you. Knock you out so you wouldn't feel it when he ended your life. 

Your hand moved to your throat, half expecting to find a cut there. Find the evidence that he'd meant to take your life. But there was nothing, just the smooth skin of your neck. 

And the soft fabric of a shirt that wasn't yours. 

Somehow you knew before you even looked down that it wasn't yours. You didn't recognize the fabric, and all it took was a glance to confirm that it definitely wasn't yours. The black material was simple but impossibly soft and comfortable. Long enough that the hem went down to just above your knees. You could feel it beneath the smooth material of the bedspread that covered you. 

You gripped the fabric just below the neckline between your fingers, lifting it closer...it smelled like him. 

You could feel your cheeks warm, though there was seemingly no one around to witness your crisis of conscience but you. You'd slept with a man you knew was a murderer. You'd come for him. And while maybe you could hide behind the fact that Hux had broken in, everything that happened after that hadn't been against your will. 

What was the cost going to be for dancing with the devil and surviving the trip to hell?

Well...hell might have been a strong word.

As your eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room, even groggy, confused, embarrassed, and royally pissed off you couldn't call what surrounded you hell. 

You were tucked into a massive bed piled with some of the softest pillows you'd ever felt. The deep grey bedding was smooth and silky yet warm around you. The only light came from an ornate silver lamp on the bedside table closest to you. The furniture - everything from the bed frame, to the nightstand, to the wardrobe and dresser on the other side of the room, to the small rounded table and two chairs in the corner - was made from the same polished black wood. There were two open doors to your right, one to a closet you could barely make out a few shelves in the darkness, the other to a bathroom. You caught a peek of what looked like a massive black stone tub.