TBP homosexual oneshots

Vance ≠ mary

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️THIS CHAPTER COMTAINS SEXUAL ASSAULT AND ABUSE proceed with caution😈⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

Brance:

It's 6:45 dad's gonna pissed that I'm not home yet. What does it matter no matter what time I got home he's gonna be mad. He hasn't been sober a second this week.

I step up onto the porch and stick my key into the keyhole expecting the door to be locked. To my surprise it wasn't?

I walk in to the smell of weed and beer. I've gotten used to it after smelling it for the past 16 years of my life.

There were empty beer cans and bottles covering the entire surface of the counter. I pick most of them up, leaving only a few bottles left, and put them in the sink. But to my luck 2 of them fell on the ground

"Vance!? Is that you?!" He yells a little to loud. His voice even cracked "Yeah" I yell back. "Well shut the fuck up in there" I take a deep breath. I was gonna make food but what's the point anymore.

I walk past him going to walk down the hallway looking at the pictures of mom. I miss her so much.

I was stopped by dad's voice again.

"Where do you think you're going?" I give him a judging look. "My room?" He scoffs and shakes his head "no. I need you to get me another beer" I looks to the ceiling. I used to rebel against his requests and fight back but, I'm just too tired to do that anymore.

I walk back to the kitchen and unlatch the fridge. The beer was warm I guess it had only just been put in there from the basement. Before walking over to him I notice his pills on the counter. Ever since mom died he's been needing to take pills to go to sleep.

...

Maybe if I put them in there.. maybe I could have Bruce over. It wouldn't be the first time I did something like that. I take a look around the house. No. I don't want this being the first time he comes over. The house is a mess. It's embarrassing. He'd definitely judge me for it.

I walk down the steps to our sunken living room. "Anything else?" I ask "yeah. For you to get rid of that damn attitude" I was surprised at his sudden raise of tone. "What attitude?" That was a genuine question. I don't know what he meant.

He gets out of the recliner and steps towards me. He slapped me and pushed me back, I trip on the steps. He looks down at me and shoves his finger in my face. "That attitude!" Get me out of here. Someone knock on the door or ring the phone. I can't do this today. Sometimes I truly believed that if I begged, prayed, and pleaded hard enough the universe would give me what I was asking for. It's only worked once.

He swats his hand at me "you wanna disrespect me in my house?" I don't answer. He looks around the room for a second and grabs an empty beer bottle and throws it at me. It hits me straight in the eye leaving a stinging and aching pain behind "answer me?!" I look down feeling ashamed of myself  "no" I say reluctantly.

He steps back "I don't like that shirt on you. It makes you look like a slut" that's what gets me. How can someone like me be slut shamed? I'm the complete opposite of a slut. Not to my dad though.

Im able to stand up away from him but before I could walk away he slams me into the wall keeping his face close to mine.

"You're torturing me. You look to much like your mother" what? I've never heard him say anything like that. I try to get my face as far away from his by turning my head to the side.

He grabs my arm but before he could do anything else a knock at the door was heard. He groans and turns his head towards the door.