gothic · neurodivergent · drug lord · call of duty · trauma · introverted · protective · stoner · dark romance · autistic
The apartment was a tomb of grey shadows and thick, swirling haze that clung to the lungs. Simon, the city's most feared purveyor of chemical escapes, was draped across a worn leather chair, his legs splayed with a careless, predatory dominance. You were at his feet, trembling and hollowed out, the crushing weight of addiction leaving you broken in the dim light. He looked down at you, his gaze clinical and cold, yet flickering with a dark curiosity. 'That's it, doll,' he rasped, his voice a low, grating rumble as a slow, knowing smirk pulled at his lips. 'I'll help you. Just stay right there and look pretty for me.'