Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > You Make Me Wanna Scream
I just want to say that obviously this is fiction. I don't own the characters, and I don't condone or agree with what happens in this story. It's not for the innocent minded, I'm just warning you. And I hope nobody gets um...offended by this.
Anyways, read and hopefully enjoy.
~ INTRODUCTION ~
Frank Iero was sixteen when he ran away. He had got in a fight with his parents- well actually it was just his father, his mother simply tried to calm them both down, eventually breaking down into sobs herself, but it was a fight nonetheless. What caused the fight was Frank's father had found him kissing a boy. Frank's father, being the homophobe that he was disowned the sixteen year old. It didn't take the kid long to come the conclusion that he didn't want to live somewhere he wasn't wanted. So he left. Leaving nothing but a note to his mother saying he knew it wasn't her, and he loved her. Told her maybe one day he could come back. And that was that. He was gone. The naive teenager saw it as an opportunity, his mother saw it as loosing her baby.
That was three years ago, and the things he has been through since are horrible and better left unsaid.
After only a week of wandering the New Jersey streets, the boy was taken. He tried to fight, but it was in vain- he was as weak and fragile as he looked. One blow to the head and he was lying on the cold concrete. When he woke up he was in a small and disgusting bedroom. Used condoms and their empty wrappers littered the carpet that was stained with something that looked like a mixture of blood and cum to Frank.
He tried to get out. Three times. After the second time, they had told him if he tried again they would kill him. In a sick way, that only encouraged him; he figured he might actually be able to escape or if he was caught, he would die. At that point he had been in there not even two months, and he already saw death as a sweet and welcome relief. He didn't care where he would go afterwards. He couldn't wrap his mind around the concept that anything could be worse than this. So even if he went to hell like his father said he would, it had to be better. Right?
But he wasn't lucky enough to get out. They caught him in the trash filled back yard and nearly strangled him to death right then. After they drug him back into the house, to his great disappointment, thy didn't kill him like they had promised, but rather proceed to rape the poor boy the rest of the night. The next morning he woke up in the worst pain he had ever felt, hoping there was a hell so all of them could rot and burn for all eternity.
And for the past three years, that horrible hell was Frank's life. He was forced into prostitution. Having sucked more dicks and fucked more strangers' cocks than he could count. That's where he was now.
He felt the vile man thrust into him over and over. Heard his disgusting moans and felt his tongue leave whorish and sloppy kisses on his back. He tried not to think of that though, removed his mind from the situation. Because he knew that he would surely vomit all over the filthy mattress if he thought about what was currently happening. The now nineteen year old felt the man’s nails dig into his sides and shuddered as the sweaty man came inside him. The man patted his head like someone would a dog’s and grunted into his ear. “Such a pretty little thing. Got a real nice, tight ass for a whore.” He slapped him on his sore ass before pulling up his pants and walking from the room.
~ ~*~ ~
He lounged against the wall in the back of the very crowded room that was hazy with smoke and reeking of alcohol. He didn’t come to the club to dance or drink- the raven haired man was there for one soul purpose. He simply wanted to get in and get out. But as time passed and the second party never arrived, the ex-convict grew increasingly impatient.
Finally, forty-seven minutes later a very pretty blond girl who he didn’t recognize approached him. She sparked minimal interest in him. He only wanted one thing from her. “I-” He knew it would be an apology, but quite frankly he didn’t want to hear it. “Just shut your fucking mouth and come with me.” His tone was quiet and sharp. The kind of voice only an idiot would ignore. The girl silently followed him out of the club and into the cool night air. He quickly turned to the right, leading them down and empty alley. He abruptly stopped, somehow managing to block her in the corner, leaving no room for her to escape.
"You're late." His voice was a bored monotone. "I-I'm s-sorry- I-" The poor girl stopped as she noticed his eyes were shooting daggers at her. "I don't fucking care why you're late. At all. Not even a little bit. Just gimme the money he owes me so I can leave.” His voice was as steely as the blade of the knife in his jacket pocket. Her voice trembled as she stumbled over what was an obviously rehearsed apology. “Th-the thing i-is...I-I d-don’t have it-t.”
“Then why the fuck are you even here?” He seethed, not giving her a chance to reply. “I gave that fucker a second chance to get me my money and I still don’t have it.” He was on the verge of throwing one of his infamous tantrums. Which wasn’t a very pleasant thing to experience, to say the least. “I-I-I...” She couldn’t an answer with his angry eyes cutting through her like that. She finally settled for a plea. “Puh- please d-don’t kill me. I- I just done what h-he told me t-to.” His tone softened into one of false sympathy. “Oh sugar, I’m not gonna kill you. Silly girl. That’s just a tad bit melodramatic, don’t’cha think? After all, like you said, you’re only the messenger. If I killed you, then how would he get the message that I’m sending?” He gave a wicked little grin before slipping the knife from his pocket. “You tell that boss of your’s that if I don’t get my money, it’ll be his throat next time. And I’ll cut deeper.” He dragged the knife across her neck, driving his point home. He made sure to not hurt the girl too badly. He didn’t want her to bleed to death, just have a nice scar.
And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away. Not bothering to so much as look back at the injured and bleeding girl. As he rounded the corner he ran straight into a short boy, knocking him down.
He kneeled down over him and offered his hand, pulling him to his feet. His observant hazel eyes studied the boy, noticing how incredibly thin he was and how worn his clothes were. He also noticed how innocent and fragile he looked, despite his tattoos and piercings, he was possibly the most angelic but somehow mischievous little thing Gerard had ever seen. He studied the way his wide hazel eyes took in every detail of the bad boy. How his pout little lips trembled as he moved his mouth, trying to form words. The raven haired one found this to be adorable. He thought the boy was adorable...and fuckable. Very fuckable. Hmm.
“What’s you’re name?” The taller asked, his voice slightly seductive. It took the boy a few moments to compose himself enough to remember his name. Much less put it to words. “F-Frank.” His voice just above a whisper. This black haired man wasn’t intimidating looking per say, but something just radiated from him. Almost like it was screaming a warning to stay away. For some reason unknown to Frank- maybe it was simply instinct, but something about this man made him want to go running and screaming in the other direction. Something else kept him frozen in place.
“That’s a real nice name....Don’t’cha wanna know mine?” He purred a few seconds later after receiving no answer.
He gave the most angelic yet dangerous smile Frank had ever seen.
Frank gave a meek nod, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry.
“Well, I’m Gerard.”
Frank stood there not quite sire of what to say.
Gerard was simply delighted in the fact he could make the boy so on edge.
“If you want him, you can have him for the night.” An unfamiliar voice filled the silence.
“Oh really?” He took a step closer to the tattooed boy, running finger down his chest.
“But he ain’t free. Or cheap. This little thing is the best fuck I’ve got.”
Gerard’s eyes were not-so-subtly roaming over every inch of the petrified boy.
“Mmm. I don’t care. I want him.”
Gerard took the small hand in his own, pulling Frank along with him. He walked past the man whose name he hadn’t cared enough to learn, handing him a fistful of money.
“I’ll being ‘em back when I’m done.” He called over his shoulder and preceded to walk Frank to the nearest hotel, which thankfully wasn’t very far away at all. It really was the kind of grungy motel made just for the sort of thing they would be doing. Gerard got their room and Frank followed behind him, keeping his head down.
The raven shut the door, taking care to lock it; he didn’t want to be interrupted. His voice was dark and dripped with lust and desire. Nothing but pure sex.
“Mmm. I’m gonna have so much fun with you...”
He gave a seductive grin and began stalking toward him.
So please tell me what you think. I have a plan for this story. I promise it’s going somewhere.
Please Rate and Review- it kinda makes my day.
Oh, and thank you for actually reading this. (:
Anyways, read and hopefully enjoy.
~ INTRODUCTION ~
Frank Iero was sixteen when he ran away. He had got in a fight with his parents- well actually it was just his father, his mother simply tried to calm them both down, eventually breaking down into sobs herself, but it was a fight nonetheless. What caused the fight was Frank's father had found him kissing a boy. Frank's father, being the homophobe that he was disowned the sixteen year old. It didn't take the kid long to come the conclusion that he didn't want to live somewhere he wasn't wanted. So he left. Leaving nothing but a note to his mother saying he knew it wasn't her, and he loved her. Told her maybe one day he could come back. And that was that. He was gone. The naive teenager saw it as an opportunity, his mother saw it as loosing her baby.
That was three years ago, and the things he has been through since are horrible and better left unsaid.
After only a week of wandering the New Jersey streets, the boy was taken. He tried to fight, but it was in vain- he was as weak and fragile as he looked. One blow to the head and he was lying on the cold concrete. When he woke up he was in a small and disgusting bedroom. Used condoms and their empty wrappers littered the carpet that was stained with something that looked like a mixture of blood and cum to Frank.
He tried to get out. Three times. After the second time, they had told him if he tried again they would kill him. In a sick way, that only encouraged him; he figured he might actually be able to escape or if he was caught, he would die. At that point he had been in there not even two months, and he already saw death as a sweet and welcome relief. He didn't care where he would go afterwards. He couldn't wrap his mind around the concept that anything could be worse than this. So even if he went to hell like his father said he would, it had to be better. Right?
But he wasn't lucky enough to get out. They caught him in the trash filled back yard and nearly strangled him to death right then. After they drug him back into the house, to his great disappointment, thy didn't kill him like they had promised, but rather proceed to rape the poor boy the rest of the night. The next morning he woke up in the worst pain he had ever felt, hoping there was a hell so all of them could rot and burn for all eternity.
And for the past three years, that horrible hell was Frank's life. He was forced into prostitution. Having sucked more dicks and fucked more strangers' cocks than he could count. That's where he was now.
He felt the vile man thrust into him over and over. Heard his disgusting moans and felt his tongue leave whorish and sloppy kisses on his back. He tried not to think of that though, removed his mind from the situation. Because he knew that he would surely vomit all over the filthy mattress if he thought about what was currently happening. The now nineteen year old felt the man’s nails dig into his sides and shuddered as the sweaty man came inside him. The man patted his head like someone would a dog’s and grunted into his ear. “Such a pretty little thing. Got a real nice, tight ass for a whore.” He slapped him on his sore ass before pulling up his pants and walking from the room.
~ ~*~ ~
He lounged against the wall in the back of the very crowded room that was hazy with smoke and reeking of alcohol. He didn’t come to the club to dance or drink- the raven haired man was there for one soul purpose. He simply wanted to get in and get out. But as time passed and the second party never arrived, the ex-convict grew increasingly impatient.
Finally, forty-seven minutes later a very pretty blond girl who he didn’t recognize approached him. She sparked minimal interest in him. He only wanted one thing from her. “I-” He knew it would be an apology, but quite frankly he didn’t want to hear it. “Just shut your fucking mouth and come with me.” His tone was quiet and sharp. The kind of voice only an idiot would ignore. The girl silently followed him out of the club and into the cool night air. He quickly turned to the right, leading them down and empty alley. He abruptly stopped, somehow managing to block her in the corner, leaving no room for her to escape.
"You're late." His voice was a bored monotone. "I-I'm s-sorry- I-" The poor girl stopped as she noticed his eyes were shooting daggers at her. "I don't fucking care why you're late. At all. Not even a little bit. Just gimme the money he owes me so I can leave.” His voice was as steely as the blade of the knife in his jacket pocket. Her voice trembled as she stumbled over what was an obviously rehearsed apology. “Th-the thing i-is...I-I d-don’t have it-t.”
“Then why the fuck are you even here?” He seethed, not giving her a chance to reply. “I gave that fucker a second chance to get me my money and I still don’t have it.” He was on the verge of throwing one of his infamous tantrums. Which wasn’t a very pleasant thing to experience, to say the least. “I-I-I...” She couldn’t an answer with his angry eyes cutting through her like that. She finally settled for a plea. “Puh- please d-don’t kill me. I- I just done what h-he told me t-to.” His tone softened into one of false sympathy. “Oh sugar, I’m not gonna kill you. Silly girl. That’s just a tad bit melodramatic, don’t’cha think? After all, like you said, you’re only the messenger. If I killed you, then how would he get the message that I’m sending?” He gave a wicked little grin before slipping the knife from his pocket. “You tell that boss of your’s that if I don’t get my money, it’ll be his throat next time. And I’ll cut deeper.” He dragged the knife across her neck, driving his point home. He made sure to not hurt the girl too badly. He didn’t want her to bleed to death, just have a nice scar.
And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away. Not bothering to so much as look back at the injured and bleeding girl. As he rounded the corner he ran straight into a short boy, knocking him down.
He kneeled down over him and offered his hand, pulling him to his feet. His observant hazel eyes studied the boy, noticing how incredibly thin he was and how worn his clothes were. He also noticed how innocent and fragile he looked, despite his tattoos and piercings, he was possibly the most angelic but somehow mischievous little thing Gerard had ever seen. He studied the way his wide hazel eyes took in every detail of the bad boy. How his pout little lips trembled as he moved his mouth, trying to form words. The raven haired one found this to be adorable. He thought the boy was adorable...and fuckable. Very fuckable. Hmm.
“What’s you’re name?” The taller asked, his voice slightly seductive. It took the boy a few moments to compose himself enough to remember his name. Much less put it to words. “F-Frank.” His voice just above a whisper. This black haired man wasn’t intimidating looking per say, but something just radiated from him. Almost like it was screaming a warning to stay away. For some reason unknown to Frank- maybe it was simply instinct, but something about this man made him want to go running and screaming in the other direction. Something else kept him frozen in place.
“That’s a real nice name....Don’t’cha wanna know mine?” He purred a few seconds later after receiving no answer.
He gave the most angelic yet dangerous smile Frank had ever seen.
Frank gave a meek nod, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry.
“Well, I’m Gerard.”
Frank stood there not quite sire of what to say.
Gerard was simply delighted in the fact he could make the boy so on edge.
“If you want him, you can have him for the night.” An unfamiliar voice filled the silence.
“Oh really?” He took a step closer to the tattooed boy, running finger down his chest.
“But he ain’t free. Or cheap. This little thing is the best fuck I’ve got.”
Gerard’s eyes were not-so-subtly roaming over every inch of the petrified boy.
“Mmm. I don’t care. I want him.”
Gerard took the small hand in his own, pulling Frank along with him. He walked past the man whose name he hadn’t cared enough to learn, handing him a fistful of money.
“I’ll being ‘em back when I’m done.” He called over his shoulder and preceded to walk Frank to the nearest hotel, which thankfully wasn’t very far away at all. It really was the kind of grungy motel made just for the sort of thing they would be doing. Gerard got their room and Frank followed behind him, keeping his head down.
The raven shut the door, taking care to lock it; he didn’t want to be interrupted. His voice was dark and dripped with lust and desire. Nothing but pure sex.
“Mmm. I’m gonna have so much fun with you...”
He gave a seductive grin and began stalking toward him.
So please tell me what you think. I have a plan for this story. I promise it’s going somewhere.
Please Rate and Review- it kinda makes my day.
Oh, and thank you for actually reading this. (:
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