Forced to be my sisters lover in a reverse world-Chapter 38: rapey

"And you're sure I can go to Bella's house, right? You're not mad at me?" I asked, sitting on the front steps outside the school beside Bella. She looked around like she was completely lost in thought, as usual.
"Yeah," Elara said through the phone, her voice softened by static. "I don't want you to be miserably alone at home. Work's got me caught up today, baby. I'm sorry—I'll probably leave around nine."
Nine? That long without Elara felt like torture. But at least I wouldn't be totally alone—Bella was here, the other person I trusted most.
"Alright then... see you later. I love you," I said, already picturing her face on the other end—sad, but smiling.
"I love you more, Noah. Have fun, also I'll be picking you up as soon as I leave," she replied, and I hung up reluctantly.
When I looked over, Bella was staring at me like she'd just spotted a bruise across my face. Then, without a word, she leaned in and wrapped an arm around me. Classic Bella—no explanation, just a hug that somehow made everything feel easier.
"Okay, let's go," she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me up. We started walking toward her house, the afternoon sun painting the pavement gold. I couldn't help but wonder what the inside would look like—hopefully her room wasn't anything like... hers. I sighed quietly. No point wasting energy thinking about that waste of space.
"Do you have any snacks, Noah?" Bella asked suddenly, her tone light and childish.
Without thinking, I reached into my shoulder bag and pulled out a cereal bar. My fingers brushed against the cold metal of the taser I still carried—habit, maybe paranoia. Even with Bella around, it made me feel safer.
"Ooo, chocolate," she said before taking a massive bite, then another, demolishing the whole thing in seconds.
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Do you even chew, Bella?"
She wiped the corner of her mouth with her sleeve, grinning. "You got any more?"
"Hmmm... let's see," I muttered, rummaging through my bag. Crumpled wrappers, pens, charger—then finally, the familiar silver packaging caught my eye. A protein bar. I'd actually packed it for Bella earlier, just in case. Silly me for forgetting.
"Here, your favorite," I said, holding it out to her.
Her eyes lit up instantly, bright and wild, like a kid who just found buried treasure. "Ah, fuck yeah!" she exclaimed, pulling me into a tight, bone-squeezing hug before I could even react. I laughed, my face pressing awkwardly against her boobs as she clung on for a moment longer than needed.
Then, as soon as she let go, the wrapper was torn open with her teeth, and she was devouring the bar like it was her last meal. Crumbs stuck to her lips as she chewed, humming in satisfaction.
I couldn't help but smile. "You seriously eat like you're in a competition."
She spoke with her mouth full, "That's 'cause it's that good!"
"Bet it is. Anyway, how's it been going with that boyfriend thing? Found anyone yet?" I asked casually, glancing over at her.
Bella instantly turned into a shy mess. Her eyes darted away from mine, landing somewhere on the cracks in the sidewalk. "Still working on it, haha..." she mumbled, her hand rising to scratch the back of her neck.
Before I could say anything else, she hooked an arm around me, pulling me closer as we walked. The move felt familiar—almost too familiar. It was the same way Elara would tug me in when we were out together.
Her hand stayed there on my back, warm and steady. She didn't pull away, not even after a few seconds.
"Bit touchy today, are ya?" I said, half teasing.
She just gave a small chuckle, her eyes still ahead. "Remember what I said a few weeks ago? I like touching you."
I wanted to say it rubbed me the wrong way, but... it didn't. Oddly enough, it felt comforting—like she meant it in her own strange Bella way.
"It's hot today..." Bella muttered, peeling off her leather jacket—the same one she wore no matter the weather. Underneath was a fitted black tank top, and her toned arms caught the sunlight just right. I tried not to stare, but... yeah, I definitely was. What's wrong with me today?
"Why do you like that jacket so much anyway?" I asked, stepping over a chunk of raised concrete. "You're always wearing it. Got some emotional attachment or something?"
She smiled faintly, holding the jacket by the collar. "My papa gave it to me before he died of cancer," she said quietly. "He always told me to protect boys from nasty girls. Said the jacket would make me look more intimidating."
That actually hit harder than I expected. I blinked, glancing down at her hand before gently taking it in mine. "I'm sorry for your loss, Bella... I think he'd be really proud of you."
"I think so too," she murmured, giving my hand a small squeeze before stopping in front of a weathered house. The wilderness behind it framed the place in a lonely kind of beauty—tall grass swaying, trees whispering softly in the wind. We'd dropped her off here plenty of times before, but it looked so different in daylight.
"Come on," Bella said, tugging me forward, her grip firm and warm around my hand. Up close, the house looked tired—paint peeling, a porch step slightly caved in—but something about it still felt lived in, real.
When she pushed open the door, a woman stood there—clearly her mother, judging by the resemblance. Her hair was messy, her clothes wrinkled, and the faint smell of alcohol clung to the air around her.
"Hi, Ms. Haywood," I said quickly, putting on my best polite smile as I stepped forward and shook her hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong, though not nearly as firm as Bella's.
She squinted at me with half-lidded eyes. "Ah, so you're the guy Bella's been fucking. Try to keep it down, yeah? I've got a bit of a headache."
"Mom! No—he's just a friend," Bella blurted out, her face flushing crimson. "I'm sorry, Noah. She just says whatever when she's drunk."
I waved it off with a small chuckle, trying to ease her embarrassment. "Don't worry, Bella. I get it."
"My room's upstairs—first door to the right. Go on ahead, I've gotta peepee real quick," Bella said, waving me off before disappearing down the hall.
I climbed the creaky staircase, the wooden steps groaning under my boots, and pushed open the door she mentioned. Her room surprised me—it was simple, tidy, and a lot more put-together than I expected. A faint smell of vanilla and old laundry detergent lingered in the air.
There wasn't much clutter: a small desk with a few notebooks, a half-empty water bottle, and a couple of band posters taped slightly crooked on the wall. On the bed was a loose black shirt, and when I looked closer, my brow furrowed. It looked exactly like the one I lost a while back.
"Guess she liked how it looked and bought one herself," I mumbled, though something about that thought didn't sit entirely right.
I sat down, the mattress giving a soft squeak under my weight, then flopped back against it with a sigh. The quiet hum of the house filled my ears while I waited—unsure what Bella had planned, but oddly okay with just being here.
-
(Bella pov)
"Holy fuck, Noah's in my house. Do I just... reach out and touch him? No, he'd probably freak out and get pissed. But what if he doesn't mind? He did say once that if you really love someone, touching them is okay. But he's already got a girlfriend... Does that make this wrong?"
I paced back and forth in the cramped bathroom, my sneakers squeaking on the tiled floor. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. I couldn't shake the thought of him sitting out there in my room, probably scrolling on his phone, completely unaware of the storm in my head.
I shouldn't do it—Papa drilled it into me that forcing yourself on someone is a line you don't cross, ever. Still, the urge clawed at me. I wanted to run my hands over Noah, to feel his warmth, to make him feel good, something intense. My palms were sweaty, and I wiped them on my jeans, staring at myself in the mirror, torn between what I knew and what I craved.
I hesitated for a moment, my thoughts racing. "No... I can't do that. Elara trusts me. I can't betray her like that. But... she's not here right now. What if I just... let myself go, just for a little while?" I muttered to myself, the conflict churning in my chest as I pushed open the bathroom and opened door to my room.
There was Noah, sitting on my bed, his eyes wandering around my cramped, cluttered space. It was nothing like his place—his house was all sleek lines, modern furniture, and wide windows that let in the golden afternoon light.
I'd felt like a kid in a candy store the first time I'd been there, gawking at every little detail. My room? It was a mess of posters peeling at the edges, a beat-up old desk, and a bed with a lumpy mattress. I wanted to live with him, to escape this dump and wake up every day in a place that felt like a dream.
"Hey, so what'd you have planned?" Noah's voice cut through my thoughts as he faced me, one eyebrow raised. He had this casual, easy way about him, hands shoved in his pockets, his dark hair falling just over his eyes. I couldn't help but grin as I flopped onto my bed, the springs creaking under me. I stretched out beside him, my tank top riding up just enough to show a sliver of my stomach.
I wasn't gonna lie to myself—I wanted him to notice. My abs were something I was damn proud of. I shifted a little, making sure the fabric stayed pulled up, and glanced at him from the corner of my eye to see if he'd caught it.
"Eh, nothing crazy," I said, propping myself up on one elbow, my voice casual but my heart thumping a little faster. "Just thought we could hang out, maybe watch something... or whatever you're up for." I let the words hang there, watching his face for any hint of what he was thinking. My room felt smaller with him in it, the air heavier somehow, like every little move or word carried more weight than it should've.
"Actually, let's watch a movie. But wait—let me check if my mom left. She usually leaves to do whatever around this time."
I got up and walked down the stairs, peeking into the living room. The only sign of life was an open beer can sitting crooked on the coffee table. No yelling, no footsteps. Perfect.
"Come on out, Noah! And bring me the blanket on my bed!" I called, plopping down onto the couch.
A few moments later he appeared, holding the soft gray blanket like a trophy. He sat beside me and spread it over my legs, his warmth brushing against my side.
"Horror, right?" he asked, glancing at the TV. "Or a Christmas movie? Since, you know, it's getting closer and closer. Damn—November is flying by fast."
I smirked and grabbed the remote. "Horror. It's way too early for Christmas crap."
He chuckled, leaning back as I scrolled through the list and pressed play on Janette vs. Freda—a classic, one of my absolute favorites. The title screen flickered to life, and the room dimmed with the glow of the TV.
He leaned against me, his head resting lightly on my shoulder, and I felt my chest tighten in the best way possible. The warmth of his body seeped through the blanket, through my skin—it felt right, like this was exactly where he was meant to be.
He stared intently at the TV, his eyes reflecting the flickering light from the movie, completely unaware of how fast my heart was beating next to him. Six hours with the love of my life? I'd take that over anything else in the world. Even if he never knew how much this meant to me.
—————
Sorry for the slow updates, like I said before, dealing with stuff.