Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Everythings Sexual My Dear
This is pretty random, but I had the idea after fantasizing about Frerard doing sexual things... (DO NOT JUDGE ME!) so yeah. This story will be highly sexual. Though not in this chapter. As I am practicing my smut and trying to make it better. And the scene starts... as the what would have been rape-smut finishes. Boop!
----
He smirked at me, throwing me on the floor now that he's finished. "You'll always be my favorite Frankie." I smiled, in that proud and thankful way. Like it was an accomplishment. Like I worked so goddamned hard to get to where I am.
It's almost routine, normal. How did I get the point where I stopped fighting? When did I just give up? Four months ago? Even before that. I crawled up on the dirty cum stained bed, wrapping the thin sheets around me best I could.
I desperately wanted to cry, but I wouldn't let myself. All I wanted to do was go to Europe. I just wanted to go to Europe and tour with my band. That was it. I didn't ask for any of this. I curled more into myself, ashamed of what I've become.
I can't even blame anyone but myself. I was so naive, and too trusting. I actually willing got in some random guys van, for candy. Well, he said he needed help loading candy and then taking it to some place and his crew abandoned him.
I thought I'd be a nice guy. I mean, why would someone kidnap a 16 year old boy? I was so stupid. I sat up. Looking around my dingy room.
I have a bed side table, pleasantly placed all the way across the room by the door. Well technically not that far, but still. My steal toilet was on the right side of the room.
My mangy uncomfortable beg was pushed as far back as it could be against the far wall. All the walls were originally cream, but peeling and stained now. They could be stained with anything. The easiest to figure out is the blood. So much blood.
----
He smirked at me, throwing me on the floor now that he's finished. "You'll always be my favorite Frankie." I smiled, in that proud and thankful way. Like it was an accomplishment. Like I worked so goddamned hard to get to where I am.
It's almost routine, normal. How did I get the point where I stopped fighting? When did I just give up? Four months ago? Even before that. I crawled up on the dirty cum stained bed, wrapping the thin sheets around me best I could.
I desperately wanted to cry, but I wouldn't let myself. All I wanted to do was go to Europe. I just wanted to go to Europe and tour with my band. That was it. I didn't ask for any of this. I curled more into myself, ashamed of what I've become.
I can't even blame anyone but myself. I was so naive, and too trusting. I actually willing got in some random guys van, for candy. Well, he said he needed help loading candy and then taking it to some place and his crew abandoned him.
I thought I'd be a nice guy. I mean, why would someone kidnap a 16 year old boy? I was so stupid. I sat up. Looking around my dingy room.
I have a bed side table, pleasantly placed all the way across the room by the door. Well technically not that far, but still. My steal toilet was on the right side of the room.
My mangy uncomfortable beg was pushed as far back as it could be against the far wall. All the walls were originally cream, but peeling and stained now. They could be stained with anything. The easiest to figure out is the blood. So much blood.
Sign up to rate and review this story