White Rabbit | Scaramouche x reader

☾ I Wanna Go

notes:

so are we going to pretend like he didn't just finger you in a club and take your panties

yes

dw babes the fun parts will come soon ;)

this is a porn with plot so I'm giving ya'll some plot before the porn
I do hope ya'll enjoy the plot because I sure do

**WARNING** PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION FOR THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS:
-physical and emotional abuse (inflicted by parent)
- mentions of drug overdose

 ↳ ❦ Location: Nite's Intimates Photoshoot

"I cannot believe that you decided to slut yourself out this weekend. What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Have you no shame?"

You had such a great past weekend that you almost forgot what a shitshow your career was. It wasn't that your job was shit, you enjoyed what you did. It was your 'Momager' that made your life a shitshow. Today you were working with a company that asked you to model some of their cute, sexy pajamas and casual loungewear. It was a growing company and your mother was 'friends' with the woman who founded it. As per usual, your mother used you as a toy to further someone else's career. Your mother said this was a "friend" of hers but it was almost impossible for someone as egotistical and bitter as your mom to keep friends.

You were sitting in your changing room with your make-up and hair artists who were working hard to cover up the little... surprises that were left on your skin. A few nights ago Scaramouche decided to leave a few hickeys on the side of your neck. They weren't monster-sized hickeys or whatever your bitching mother described them as. They were normal-sized bruises that Scaramouche wanted to leave on your neck.

They were reminders of what you got yourself into. Sumeru's Most Wanted had marked you as his own. You were going to be his pretty plaything that he was so infatuated with. It was as if you could relive the scenario in your head: the feeling of his soft lips sucking and biting your skin with such a pleasurable pleasure that it made your body shiver and melt. Too bad your mother was ranting so loudly you couldn't relive that fantasy.

"Maybe if you had more respect for yourself, you wouldn't let strangers bruise up your neck. Come on y/n, you have a reputation to uphold. What if someone saw you with those marks and took a picture of you? Do you want the Internet to talk about what a selfless whore you are?" Madam continued with her pissed-off rant. She paced all over the room while your make-up artist did his best to cover the bruises. He was doing an amazing job since it looked as if nothing was there. He gave you a sympathetic stare since your mother had been ranting for almost twenty minutes now.

"Do you even hear me? Do you not care about the career I worked so hard for you to have? It's like you just want to throw all of this away for what? A few minutes of meaningless pleasure with a stranger you don't know? What a fucking joke you are," Madam huffed while crossing her arms. She held a cigarette to her lips - it was now her third one.

You blinked a few times before clearing your throat. "I don't think making out with someone is going to tank my career. It was a one-time thing it's not that serious-"

Your mother was quick to step forward and slap you across the cheek with such intense force it echoed in the room. Your makeup and hair artist froze and stared in horror at what just happened. You were too stunned to speak as your body was frozen. This was a response you typically had whenever you tried to stand up for yourself. Memories of your mother hitting you throughout your career from a teenager to now played in your mind while she continued to rant.