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Do It Like A Whore (Just Business) Chapter 24
Author: war_of_ataraxis
Pairing: Ville/Bam
Rating: Varying
Summary: Ville is a street whore, running low on business for the night, when a cute guy in a nice car offers to pay him for his company. Ville accepts, and goes home with him - how much does this cute stranger have in mind, and how much is Ville willing to give?
Disclaimer: Do not own, don't sue me, I have no money, and god knows there are better things to arrest me for.
Previous chapters and writing archive found at love_sex_angst
I ran until my fragile body shook, my breathing hitched, and I felt like I was going to pass out. Not for a long while did I final stop, collapsing against a building, bent over, attempting to catch my failing breath.
My mind was filled with racing thoughts, horrible to even think - I should never have even stayed that long with him. It was wrong of me to just use him like that.
Ryan was right.
Finally I pulled myself from the building and began to walk more slowly, eyes opening wide as I attempted to hide from each passing car’s lights. There were many, many people I didn’t want to run into.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
My feet stopped working as soon as my voice sounded, even though my brain shouted for me to run, it was useless, his hand was on my shoulder, his large, hard hand was on my shoulder and jerking me backwards. My feet faltered underneath me, and I hit the ground, hard, the air pushed from my lungs as my the pain caused my eyes to open wide and stare right into the eyes of Maxwell, the last person on earth I would want to see right now.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he repeated. “Come home so soon already?”
A string of nonsense babble erupted from my lips, I wasn’t sure what I was trying to say, and he obviously didn’t get anything from it, or didn’t care enough to listen, as he silenced me with a swift kick to my side.
“Who gave you the right to go run away, huh, sweetheart?” he questioned, pain erupting through my body as he lent another blow to my side. I cried out in main, my fatigue from the run evident as I attempted to scramble away from him. Even when I had managed to flip myself over and attempt to crawl away in the midst of all his curses, his heavy shoe landed on my back.
“Na-uh sweetheart, you’re not going anywhere this time. It’s back to the corner for you - don’t forget, you still owe me money,” he grabbed me from the ground and held me close to his face, staring me down as he brushed back a lock my hair. “A lot of money.” His eyes were menacing, and I could barely breathe.
“Please… don’t kill me,” I managed to splutter out.
His harsh laugh hit my ears like a earthquake. “Why would I kill you sweetheart? Dead whores don’t make any money, now do they?”
I felt a sharp blow connect with the back of my head, and then the world faded out to black.
I came to in a room that was horribly familiar. A ceiling I’d seen far too many times loomed above me, and the uncomfortable bed hadn’t even changed.
“Welcome home - I had ‘em keep the place for you - figured you might want to come back eventually. Though, I got them to clean the place up a bit; you left a horrible mess, Ville, you should be ashamed.”
I felt the edge of the bed sink down slightly and I pursed my lips in response, staring at the ceiling with determination, and trying to hold back all the horrible things I wanted to say to him. His hand fell lightly onto my hip, and I went to jerk away from him, but my hands had only moved a few inches from their position above my head, when they were stopped abruptly, and a soft clink sounded.
“You fucker.”
“Watch your mouth, bitch. Do you think I wanted you to run away again? No, no, not when I need your money.”
Anger swelled in my chest; no matter what I had gone through with Bam, no matter how bad I had felt for using him, this was not what I wanted.
”You weren’t making shit for money off of me,” I muttered, feeling a strange confidence I had never felt before around Maxwell. “Let me go.”
His harsh laugh echoed through my brain again, and his voice had even more of a bite to it than before. “Living with that little faggot got you to thinking you were special or something, did it? You come back fat and spoiled, well, there’s something you need to realize, you dirty little fuck,” the bed moved again, and suddenly his angry face loomed into view. “You’re not special.”
I watched his move his mouth, heard the sound, and a split second later I felt the splatter of his saliva hit my face. “Fuck you, you spoiled fat little whore. I’ll leave you here a few days, and see if we can get that weight off of you.” His footsteps were moving away. “Don’t go anywhere, sweetheart.”
He chuckled at his own stupid joke, and as soon as the door slammed I felt the tears well up in my eyes, the pain and humiliation of my situation hitting me all at once. My bladder ached painfully, and the bonds around my wrists held tight; who knew Maxwell would be back? I cried desperately, a scream even ripping from my throat, but not in a cry for help - they other occupants in the building had never came to help me before, why would they help now?
I was fucked over, and somehow I had managed to turn my life around, straight 180 back to where I had started.
Eventually the tears subsided, the streaks down the sides of my face dried, and I was left staring at the ceiling, thinking about how I had fucked up everything. Yet, in the back of my mind lingered a silent reserve, a silent waving of a white flag. Maybe it wasn’t worth fighting.
It’s not like you deserved him anyway, Ville, he was too good for you. You were using him, and that was wrong - his friends hated you, you fucked up.
Maybe… you deserve this. Maybe this is just how your life is meant to be. Why fight it? You’re not meant for someone like Bam. Maybe you’re just meant for the streets, Ville.
Some people are just meant for the streets.
A/N: It’s been a long time, I know. Forgive me. I’d give excuses, but eh, it’s not even worth it. Let me know what you think about this chapter! Who doesn’t love drama and angst?!
Author: war_of_ataraxis
Pairing: Ville/Bam
Rating: Varying
Summary: Ville is a street whore, running low on business for the night, when a cute guy in a nice car offers to pay him for his company. Ville accepts, and goes home with him - how much does this cute stranger have in mind, and how much is Ville willing to give?
Disclaimer: Do not own, don't sue me, I have no money, and god knows there are better things to arrest me for.
Previous chapters and writing archive found at love_sex_angst
I ran until my fragile body shook, my breathing hitched, and I felt like I was going to pass out. Not for a long while did I final stop, collapsing against a building, bent over, attempting to catch my failing breath.
My mind was filled with racing thoughts, horrible to even think - I should never have even stayed that long with him. It was wrong of me to just use him like that.
Ryan was right.
Finally I pulled myself from the building and began to walk more slowly, eyes opening wide as I attempted to hide from each passing car’s lights. There were many, many people I didn’t want to run into.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
My feet stopped working as soon as my voice sounded, even though my brain shouted for me to run, it was useless, his hand was on my shoulder, his large, hard hand was on my shoulder and jerking me backwards. My feet faltered underneath me, and I hit the ground, hard, the air pushed from my lungs as my the pain caused my eyes to open wide and stare right into the eyes of Maxwell, the last person on earth I would want to see right now.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he repeated. “Come home so soon already?”
A string of nonsense babble erupted from my lips, I wasn’t sure what I was trying to say, and he obviously didn’t get anything from it, or didn’t care enough to listen, as he silenced me with a swift kick to my side.
“Who gave you the right to go run away, huh, sweetheart?” he questioned, pain erupting through my body as he lent another blow to my side. I cried out in main, my fatigue from the run evident as I attempted to scramble away from him. Even when I had managed to flip myself over and attempt to crawl away in the midst of all his curses, his heavy shoe landed on my back.
“Na-uh sweetheart, you’re not going anywhere this time. It’s back to the corner for you - don’t forget, you still owe me money,” he grabbed me from the ground and held me close to his face, staring me down as he brushed back a lock my hair. “A lot of money.” His eyes were menacing, and I could barely breathe.
“Please… don’t kill me,” I managed to splutter out.
His harsh laugh hit my ears like a earthquake. “Why would I kill you sweetheart? Dead whores don’t make any money, now do they?”
I felt a sharp blow connect with the back of my head, and then the world faded out to black.
I came to in a room that was horribly familiar. A ceiling I’d seen far too many times loomed above me, and the uncomfortable bed hadn’t even changed.
“Welcome home - I had ‘em keep the place for you - figured you might want to come back eventually. Though, I got them to clean the place up a bit; you left a horrible mess, Ville, you should be ashamed.”
I felt the edge of the bed sink down slightly and I pursed my lips in response, staring at the ceiling with determination, and trying to hold back all the horrible things I wanted to say to him. His hand fell lightly onto my hip, and I went to jerk away from him, but my hands had only moved a few inches from their position above my head, when they were stopped abruptly, and a soft clink sounded.
“You fucker.”
“Watch your mouth, bitch. Do you think I wanted you to run away again? No, no, not when I need your money.”
Anger swelled in my chest; no matter what I had gone through with Bam, no matter how bad I had felt for using him, this was not what I wanted.
”You weren’t making shit for money off of me,” I muttered, feeling a strange confidence I had never felt before around Maxwell. “Let me go.”
His harsh laugh echoed through my brain again, and his voice had even more of a bite to it than before. “Living with that little faggot got you to thinking you were special or something, did it? You come back fat and spoiled, well, there’s something you need to realize, you dirty little fuck,” the bed moved again, and suddenly his angry face loomed into view. “You’re not special.”
I watched his move his mouth, heard the sound, and a split second later I felt the splatter of his saliva hit my face. “Fuck you, you spoiled fat little whore. I’ll leave you here a few days, and see if we can get that weight off of you.” His footsteps were moving away. “Don’t go anywhere, sweetheart.”
He chuckled at his own stupid joke, and as soon as the door slammed I felt the tears well up in my eyes, the pain and humiliation of my situation hitting me all at once. My bladder ached painfully, and the bonds around my wrists held tight; who knew Maxwell would be back? I cried desperately, a scream even ripping from my throat, but not in a cry for help - they other occupants in the building had never came to help me before, why would they help now?
I was fucked over, and somehow I had managed to turn my life around, straight 180 back to where I had started.
Eventually the tears subsided, the streaks down the sides of my face dried, and I was left staring at the ceiling, thinking about how I had fucked up everything. Yet, in the back of my mind lingered a silent reserve, a silent waving of a white flag. Maybe it wasn’t worth fighting.
It’s not like you deserved him anyway, Ville, he was too good for you. You were using him, and that was wrong - his friends hated you, you fucked up.
Maybe… you deserve this. Maybe this is just how your life is meant to be. Why fight it? You’re not meant for someone like Bam. Maybe you’re just meant for the streets, Ville.
Some people are just meant for the streets.
A/N: It’s been a long time, I know. Forgive me. I’d give excuses, but eh, it’s not even worth it. Let me know what you think about this chapter! Who doesn’t love drama and angst?!