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Maxx Green.

November 2012

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falseyoureyes in slashthefate

Title: Trashed and Scattered
Author: falseyoureyes
Pairing: Ronnie Radke/Craig Mabbit; Ronnie Radke/OMC Bryan Money/Robert Ortiz; Bryan Money/Omar Espinoza; Max Green/OFC 
Summary: At the worst possible moment, everything comes crashing down on Ronnie. What innocence he had left is ripped from him, a stranger haunting him begining to break him down-and the only person who can piece him back together is someone he vowed to hate forever.
Rating: R (for now)
Warnings: non-con, abuse, substance abuse, self-harm, homophobia, language
Disclaimer: The events portrayed herein are fictional and bear little if any resemblance to real life.
A/N: This story is un-beta'd, and probably will continue to be un-beta'd. If you tend to nitpick about little errors, you probably don't want to read.
NOTE: I just realized I had this as "Ronnie Radke/OFC".  I have fixed the pairings. Took me three chapters to notice but I fixed it. Enjoy.

Ronnie had done a lot of stupid shit in his life. He’d served his time but when he got out and got to be with his friends again, he couldn’t help feeling…different inside. More awkward. He felt like something it him was dying, and he couldn’t stop it.

The night it actually happened, Ronnie had been doing what he did best-drinking. He grabbed the first beer he could, downing them until he was sure he could become just another loud, obnoxious drunk.

That didn’t happen, either. Instead by the time he’d downed his fifteenth beer, he only felt ill and dizzy. His head spun, his stomach doing the same, feet uncoordinated and mouth not bringing forth anything coherent.

He forced his way to a bathroom upstairs, dropping to his knees by the toilet and heaving up everything he’d had in the past two days. People cleared from the hall quickly, moving their personal parties to bedrooms or the rooms downstairs; he was left alone, holding back his own hair, sitting on his ankles with the door wide open.

Ronne didn’t know the man who walked in on him but he ignored him for the most part. It wasn’t until the door slammed shut and locked that he realized someone else was in there with him.

His skin was sticky and sweaty and he smelled like puke. He turned his attention back to the toilet, reaching up to flush it and pull himself to his feet. He only managed to first part because the man who’d come into the bathroom-a few inches taller than him, clearly more muscular than he was-pushed him back to his knees.

Ronnie slipped instead, landing on his butt; he tried to get up again but the man pushed him back once more, raising a hand to the button of his jeans. Ronnie didn’t watch the other hand; he tried to stand a third time and the man pushed him so hard he almost fell into the tub.

“Jesus fucking Christ, man,” He half-whined, looking at the stranger, who’s fly was now undone. “I don’t want to watch you use the fucking bathroom.”

A look of confusion flashed across the other man’s face, but it quickly melted away. “Watch me use the bathroom? I’m not using the bathroom. You’re not watching.” He knelt down in front of Ronnie, the smaller man opening his mouth to speak but getting nothing out. The man grabbed his ankles and pulled him onto his back, pressing a hand over his face.

Ronnie’s own hands went to the man’s wrist, trying to pull the hand off his nose and mouth so he could at least breathe. When the hand finally moved his lower body was completely exposed, shoes tossed into the sink, pants and boxers flung across the room in front of the door.

The man gripped his hips, pressing Ronnie’s back harder into the floor. He forced the smaller man’s legs around his waist, and before Ronnie knew it he was caught in a wave of agony, a feeling he struggled to comprehend as the alcohol blocked out all his ability to react.


The man grunted, movements becoming slightly easier despite Ronnie’s pain. He wanted to scream but his throat was already rough and dry; every time he struggled a sound out it came through only as whimpers and whines. He wasn’t out of it, not completely; he could hear everything the man said to him, see his face twisted with pleasure as grunted out something along the lines of “little bitch likes it rough, doesn’t he”.

One particularly nasty thrust made Ronnie cry out and the man growled, aiming a punch for his eye. It clipped his cheek and he let out another cry; this time, the man aimed for his stomach. Ronnie whimpered after this, biting his lip as the man rocked him back and forth, pressing his hands against the other’s chest in a feeble, futile attempt to get the other man off of him.

The man’s pace soon quickened, Ronnie’s body growing cold seconds before his attacker came. The heat that went through him was hot, burning almost; the man only grinned at him, probably knowing what Ronnie was feeling and loving it.

After he pulled out, he had to unhook Ronnie’s legs, pushing himself onto his own wobbly feet and pulling his jeans back up. He looked at Ronnie with severe distaste. “Get the fuck up.”

Ronnie felt a sudden jerk in his chest, like he was going to through up again, and he winced. The man made a sound and bent down, grabbing his shirt and pulling him up, pushing him onto the tub’s ledge. He collected Ronnie’s clothes and threw them at him, snapping at him to get dressed. When he didn’t move, the man bent down, grabbing a handful of his hair and jerking his head to the side. “I fucking told you to get dressed.”

After that Ronnie’s arms began to move almost robotically, pulling his boxers and jeans on quickly. He was afraid of what the man might do if he pissed him off anymore, scared he’d kill him, or…or rape him again.

Once he had his jeans on the man jerked him to his feet by his hair, grabbing his shoes and dropping them on the floor. Ronnie slipped them on and he grabbed his arm, pulling him to the door and opening it, dragging him out into the hall.

Most of the partygoers had already started leaving when Ronnie began puking, and the living room was mostly empty. The man continued to pull Ronnie until they were on the front porch before snapping at him again.

“Where do you live?” All Ronnie did was cringe, trying to pull away, knowing it was useless. The man gripped him tighter. “I fucking asked you a question, you’d better fucking answer me.”

Ronnie forced out his answer, giving the man his address. He’d walked to the party, his house not too far away, and the man grinned before dragging him down the sidewalk and in the direction of his home.

This continued for another eight blocks; the man jerking him along, holding his arm tight enough for it to bruise, not giving him time to rest. Ronnie wanted to scream, tried to even; his voice wouldn’t work, instead choking him up with more tears as was pulled along.

When they finally reached Ronnie’s house, the man pulled him up to the porch, throwing him onto it. The man followed him, stopping to grab a handful of Ronnie’s hair. He pulled his head down, turning it until Ronnie face him.

“I’ll be back, princess,” he grinned, showing off crooked, yellow teeth. “I’ll be back. And maybe, next time, I’ll bring a friend with me.”

The man let go of his hair, pushing his head to the side and standing up. He left Ronnie sitting on his porch, lip quivering, too scared to cry as he watched him leave.


Interesting start honey. Can't wait to see what happens next.

I'm gonna go look up some pics now so I'll know who's who :)
:) thanks.

You know you can always just ask me for pics though. I can usually find better examples. <3
gonna slap a bitch.
poor ronnie D:
i know i'm late on commenting, but this is great :3

There's plenty bitches to slap in here.
IKR D: I'm so evil to him, as you'll find out soon...
Better late than never, ya? :D

thanks, glad you enjoyed it <3