Ride or Die | Sam Fender AU

030

At the sound of the door unlocking, you quickly turned away from the door, lying on your side atop the bedsheets and staring blankly out the window. You knew who it was. He was right on time, bringing your dinner at the same time he did yesterday. Not that you had been eating it. It was your sort of defiance of his forced captivity. Of course you weren't going to eat. You were starving, that much was true but you knew, even with his dangerous personality, he still deeply cared about you and if this was the key to your release, then you would deal with it for as long as you could.

"Little lamb," he sighed as he set the plate down on the opposite nightstand, presumably next to the last plate of food he brought that lay untouched. You were silent. "Yer can be pissed at me all yer want but yer need to eat."

"Go away," you murmured.

"Y/N, I swear to god," he huffed in frustration but you didn't grace him with a reply, simply staring into space, unmoving. "What's it gan take to get you to eat?"

"I dunno, let me go?" you scoffed.

"Y'kna I canna do that," he replied in exasperation as though your imprisonment was something he had to enforce.

His disregard for the whole situation infuriated you. You had moved past the fear, it was clear he wasn't going to hurt you - he would have by now if he wanted to. The same couldn't be said for Jack, whose fate you considered almost constantly. You were angry for him. Why was he in Newcastle in the first place? Why had he ended up at Sam's? Had your father sent him? Had Sam gotten jealous after finding him? You honestly wouldn't rule out anything.

"You can but you won't!" you hissed, whirling around to sit up and staring at Sam with wild eyes. It was the first time you had looked at him in days and to say he looked a mess was putting it politely. There were dark bags beneath his eyes and his hair stuck up in every which way. His lips were dry and chapped where he had been picking at them and his skin had lost its glow but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

"Please just eat sommat," he pleaded softly, ignoring your quip.

"Fuck you," you snapped.

"Language, little lamb," he scolded you but it only served to further ignite your anger.

"Leave me alone," you grumbled, shaking your head in disbelief and turning away from him once more

"Don't make me force feed yer," he warned. The softness of his tone had dissipated as he surely lost his patience with you. Clearly, it wasn't working, so it was time to go with the firmer approach.

You scoffed, "May as well. You're already keeping me here against my will."

"Fine," he snapped, digging in the drawer beside him. "If that's what yer want."

"What...?" you trailed, gasping as you felt something close around your wrist. Handcuffs. "Sam, what are you-?"

"I warned yer," he growled, easily pulling your tiny frame across the mattress and closing the other end of the handcuff around the bedpost. Instinctively, your other arm reached over to attempt to release yourself from your entrapment but Sam quickly caught it, producing a second pair of handcuffs and repeating the action so your arms were completely immovable. "Yer didn't wanna listen."

"Let me out!" you huffed, pulling at the restraints but it only earned you pain as the metal bit into the skin of your wrists. You were half-sitting up in the perfect position to eat without risking choking, not that you were planning on cooperating.

"This is for your own good," he scolded, grabbing the plate of pasta from the nightstand and scooping up a forkful. "We coulda done this the easy way but yer wanted to be difficult. Ceemon, open up."

The words made you clamp your mouth shut but it seemed Sam had a contingency plan, setting the plate down on the bed and using the hand to pinch your nose, forcing you to open your mouth to breathe. Instantly, Sam placed the fork in your mouth before pulling it back, closing your mouth with his hand to force you to chew. The cycle continued until your cheeks were stained with tears. You had long given up trying to fight against him, letting him fork the pasta into your mouth without him having to pry your mouth open until you were shaking your head and telling him you were full.

"No more, please," you pleaded.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" he taunted, placing the plate down on the nightstand. "I think this is what yer wanted really."

Your face hardened at his insinuation, staring daggers at him but you doubted you looked terrifying in any way. You weren't intimidating in the slightest, least not with no use of your hands and tear tracks staining your cheeks. "Let me out," you snapped.

"Is that what yer want, little lamb?" he smirked. "Or did yer want me to keep yer tied down? Have me do everything for yer?" You shivered, clamping your mouth shut and internally berating yourself. He was a monster, keeping an innocent man held captive and practically torturing him and here you were salivating over him. You should be terrified but you were still impossibly attracted to him. The danger almost added to his allure and the threat of keeping you handcuffed made your core throb and your cheeks warm. "I think yer like that idea, Principessa."

"Sam," you whispered, swallowing down a moan. His hand reached up to slowly brush your hair behind your ear, letting it trail down your neck and chest. "Sam."

"I think the thought of me having me to do everything for yer turns yer on," he spoke lowly as his hand slowly wandered, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. "Feed yer, bath yer, dress yer..." His fingertips grazed your navel. "Get yer off."

"Stop," you gasped, squirming uncomfortably as he neared the place you wanted him to touch most but the logical part of you was screaming at you to see sense.

"See, I don't think yer want me to really, little lamb," he smirked as he fiddled with the waistband of your leggings. "I think if I checked now, you'd be absolutely soaked. What d'yer reckon?"

"Sam," you squeaked as his hand slipped beneath the elastic, reaching the seam of your knickers. "Stop." He ignored you, drinking in your every reaction as he began slowly sliding his hand into your underwear. Your eyes widened as the realisation of the situation hit you and you couldn't help but blurt out, "Red."

Instantly, Sam tore his hand away, a deep frown working its way onto his face as your chest heaved dramatically. The whole situation stole your breath and your inability to use your hands only added to the tension. You could have sworn there was a hint of guilt in Sam's eyes but you avoided his gaze as you tugged at the restraints, nonverbally hinting to him to free you.

You were silent as he released you, shifting up the bed to put as much space between you as possible. You turned your head away and wrapped your arms around your knees, curling into yourself as your shame hit.

"Y/N," he called firmly. "Look at me." You shook your head frantically. Just as you thought he was about to press you further, he let out a sigh and stood from the bed. "Goodnight, little lamb. I'll see you in the morning."

You didn't sleep much that night, tossing and turning as you were tortured by your account of events. You couldn't help but imagine what would have happened had you not used your safe word. Would you have let him continue? Would you have given into temptation? It's not like you used it because you wanted him to stop. Your situation warranted it as desperate as you felt. The more perverted side of you almost slipped a hand into your underwear to finish the job yourself, imagining it was Sam's instead but each time it began wandering, your mind quickly reminded you of the image of him towering over Jack's bruised and beaten form.

Your only question was how long was he going to keep this up?