Getting Away With Murder [Part 1]
Title: Getting Away With Murder[1/2]
Author: ferardx4ever (the one and only).
POV: Frank, 1st.
Disclaimer: This is all pure lies.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Frank Iero/Gerard Way(main)
Summary: I'm addicted to your punishment. You are the master, and I'm waiting for disaster.
Author's Note: This is pretty much drabble. I got the idea from Getting Away With Murder by Papa Roach.
Warnings: Homosexuals, abuse, depression, rape...kind of?What happens when you enjoy being raped?
I huddle myself in the corner, blooding dripping my face, along with hot, salty tears. I can hear his footsteps, coming for me. I bring my knees to my chest, and bury my head in my arms. I glance around - there are no places to hide in this dump. "Where are you, you little fucker?" He slurred, searching for me. I bit my lip, to keep from crying. The door opens, and I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for him to come towards me. "There you are." I could see him grin as I peer at him over my pale arms. He grips me by my hair, pulling me to my feet.
He shoves me hard against the wall, pinning my arms above my head, "I want you." He growled in my ear, and I shuddered, more afraid than ever. Our lips collided, and our tongues met. My knees grew weak the second they did, and I felt him growing hard against me. I swallowed hard after he pulled away, and he pushed me onto the bed. He yanked off my shirt, forcing me on my stomach.
He bit down hard on my neck, and sucked on the skin atop of it. I let out a groan, and he laughed masochistically, licking some of the blood off of my cheeks. I feel my pants being yanked off, along with my boxers, as they're tossed to the floor, leaving me fully naked, and him fully clothed. He opened the drawer on the side-table next to the bed, rummaging for the lube.
As soon as he found it he coated his fingers, and I buried my head in the pillow. Tears squeezed their way out of my eyes, as one of his fingers entered inside of me, creating a burning sensation. I cried out, "Shut up you fucker." He warned, shoving another finger inside of me. I stifled another cry, and then I started to enjoy it as he wriggled his fingers around inside me. I mewled, and moaned slightly. Sliding yet another finger in, scissoring them inside of me - I wonder if he was actually deciding to be gentle with me this time. He had never bothered to stretch me out before. He preferred me being in pain, mostly.
He took his fingers out of me, removing his clothing, and then began coating his shaft. I bit my lip - this is where it usually hurt most. He pushed himself inside of me, and it hurt like fucking bitch. My insides felt like they were being split apart and tossed in a blender. I gripped on the bed sheets and the pillow as tightly as possible. I was sick of him being inside of me when he wasn't supposed to be. I always seemed to say that everytime... Except, I never did anything. "N-No, Gerard, stop..." I pleaded, squirming and struggling. "I don't wanna." I tried to say firmly, but it came out a tiny whisper. "Fucking shut up." He barked, yanking my head back by my hair, and biting down on my skin - bound to leave a mark, I thought, as I gasped.
No, this time, it would end. He can't always fucking do this to me. He's taken everything away from me that's important. He's - "Ohhh..." I let out a long, throaty moan as he found my prostate. No, get a grip. This is wrong. I let him get away with everything. "I don't - Oh God..." I groaned, and I forgot everything. He hit square on with every thrust, and I felt my muscles go weak. "Oh, you don't want it alright..." He mutters under his breath, as I let out another pleasure filled cry. I was addicted to his punishments. His rythmn grew faster, riding out our orgasms.
He came inside of me, and then slid out of me, falling down next to me. Weakly, I rolled over, gaping up at him. I claimed to hate him, and I claimed to be determined to put a stop to everything he did to me oh so frequently. I was a liar, because I wanted him to love me. "Why don't you love me?" I asked, without meaning it to say it out loud. I wanted him to love me. All I got was a loathing glare of madness.
I would never get anything else. Ever.
Author: ferardx4ever (the one and only).
POV: Frank, 1st.
Disclaimer: This is all pure lies.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Frank Iero/Gerard Way(main)
Summary: I'm addicted to your punishment. You are the master, and I'm waiting for disaster.
Author's Note: This is pretty much drabble. I got the idea from Getting Away With Murder by Papa Roach.
Warnings: Homosexuals, abuse, depression, rape...kind of?What happens when you enjoy being raped?
I huddle myself in the corner, blooding dripping my face, along with hot, salty tears. I can hear his footsteps, coming for me. I bring my knees to my chest, and bury my head in my arms. I glance around - there are no places to hide in this dump. "Where are you, you little fucker?" He slurred, searching for me. I bit my lip, to keep from crying. The door opens, and I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for him to come towards me. "There you are." I could see him grin as I peer at him over my pale arms. He grips me by my hair, pulling me to my feet.
He shoves me hard against the wall, pinning my arms above my head, "I want you." He growled in my ear, and I shuddered, more afraid than ever. Our lips collided, and our tongues met. My knees grew weak the second they did, and I felt him growing hard against me. I swallowed hard after he pulled away, and he pushed me onto the bed. He yanked off my shirt, forcing me on my stomach.
He bit down hard on my neck, and sucked on the skin atop of it. I let out a groan, and he laughed masochistically, licking some of the blood off of my cheeks. I feel my pants being yanked off, along with my boxers, as they're tossed to the floor, leaving me fully naked, and him fully clothed. He opened the drawer on the side-table next to the bed, rummaging for the lube.
As soon as he found it he coated his fingers, and I buried my head in the pillow. Tears squeezed their way out of my eyes, as one of his fingers entered inside of me, creating a burning sensation. I cried out, "Shut up you fucker." He warned, shoving another finger inside of me. I stifled another cry, and then I started to enjoy it as he wriggled his fingers around inside me. I mewled, and moaned slightly. Sliding yet another finger in, scissoring them inside of me - I wonder if he was actually deciding to be gentle with me this time. He had never bothered to stretch me out before. He preferred me being in pain, mostly.
He took his fingers out of me, removing his clothing, and then began coating his shaft. I bit my lip - this is where it usually hurt most. He pushed himself inside of me, and it hurt like fucking bitch. My insides felt like they were being split apart and tossed in a blender. I gripped on the bed sheets and the pillow as tightly as possible. I was sick of him being inside of me when he wasn't supposed to be. I always seemed to say that everytime... Except, I never did anything. "N-No, Gerard, stop..." I pleaded, squirming and struggling. "I don't wanna." I tried to say firmly, but it came out a tiny whisper. "Fucking shut up." He barked, yanking my head back by my hair, and biting down on my skin - bound to leave a mark, I thought, as I gasped.
No, this time, it would end. He can't always fucking do this to me. He's taken everything away from me that's important. He's - "Ohhh..." I let out a long, throaty moan as he found my prostate. No, get a grip. This is wrong. I let him get away with everything. "I don't - Oh God..." I groaned, and I forgot everything. He hit square on with every thrust, and I felt my muscles go weak. "Oh, you don't want it alright..." He mutters under his breath, as I let out another pleasure filled cry. I was addicted to his punishments. His rythmn grew faster, riding out our orgasms.
He came inside of me, and then slid out of me, falling down next to me. Weakly, I rolled over, gaping up at him. I claimed to hate him, and I claimed to be determined to put a stop to everything he did to me oh so frequently. I was a liar, because I wanted him to love me. "Why don't you love me?" I asked, without meaning it to say it out loud. I wanted him to love me. All I got was a loathing glare of madness.
I would never get anything else. Ever.