#lost my innocence in 5th grade | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ateezmakemeweep · 5 years ago

Text

it’s always been you.

mingi x reader; friends to lovers au

word count: 10k

fluff, smut

kim hongjoong was not only the first boy you ever had a crush on, but your first bully. you remember your palms sweating and cheeks warming when the teacher assigned you the seat right in front of him. you were excited by the small and scrawny boy who exuded such natural confidence, a powerful energy surrounding him despite only being in second grade.

and apparently, you were able to sense that. or maybe it was something twisted preparing you for the journey of boys who would go on to mistreat you. because it only took 30 minutes for him to start pulling your hair, the strands resting on the top of his desk repeatedly knocking into his pencil and causing it to roll down the flat surface.

you had noticed the slight pinches and pulls but felt too scared to turn around, your tiny body and heart far too nervous to confront the boy even though he was pulling at your scalp.

every time you felt it, your eyes shot to your best friend mingi who was sat across the room.

you and him have always been attached at the hip, the children of best friend's and neighbors who made you guys do everything together since the day you were born. and it was lucky that you genuinely liked him, that you didn't just put up with his company because your parents forced you to; but truthfully, you really don't know how anyone couldn't like him. because he wasn't only one of the funniest people in your life but he was kind when it mattered most.

sure, his laugh was a little too loud and he could be clingy and sometimes he took his jokes too far. but he was always quick to throw his arms around you, squeeze you into a hug and keep you in his embrace until you accepted his sorrowful, whiny apology.

"he keeps pulling my hair," you whispered to him at lunch, ripping your peanut butter and jelly sandwich down the middle.

"what?" mingi laughs out slightly, keeping his voice quiet as he rips his ham and cheese sandwich. "did you ask him why?

"no," you squeak out, shaking your head as you take your designated half of his sandwich.

you two have been doing this since you started kindergarten, one day deciding to split your sandwiches down the middle and swap; you still firmly believe that it was because mingi was bitter over the tuna sandwich his mom had packed him meanwhile you had had a grilled cheese.

but regardless, it's something that had stuck. something that you two don't even think about anymore and just do on autopilot.

"why not?" mingi asks.

another reason your friendship worked was because whereas you've always been on the shyer, quiter side, mingi was outgoing and lively. he was able to talk to anybody, even the older kids in gym class or at recess, without a hint of nervousness or apprehension. and apparently, he was able to talk to hongjoong as well, in no way affected by the small boy passing your table who you found so intimidating.

"hey! hongjoong!"

your eyes widen, nervousness quickly morphing into anger when your best friend opens his fat mouth. you smack his arm lightly, a tiny, embarrassed squeal leaving you. "what are you doing?"

the smaller boy sends him a slightly confused smile and wave before walking passed to sit at another table. mingi looks at you with an innocent smile before a loud cackle leaves his mouth.

"you look so scared," he teases, poking your warm, pink cheek. "like the time you peed your pants on halloween."

"i did not!" you whine to him, quickly forgetting about hongjoong before eyeing mingi's juice box mischievously and snatching it away. "but you did."

your best friend's loud yelp and your giggle catch the attention of the lunch monitor, the older woman stomping over to the both of you with her arms crossed. needless to say, you two spend recess inside that day, the wet, juice stain on mingi's pants occasionally making the both of you giggle.

it takes three more days of hair pulling from hongjoong to finally get you to whip your head around at the small boy, eyes wide as you look at him.

"what?" he huffs out after a few seconds of you just staring at him.

"why are you pulling my hair?" you ask, wishing your voice didn't sound so mousy and weak.

"i'm not," he spits out, looking over your nervous, blushing face. "why is your face all red?"

"it's not," you squeak back as you shake your head, quickly turning back around as your gaze instinctively moves to mingi. he catches the exact second your face morphs into one of pain, face crumbling and a yelp of "ow!" booming through the classroom when a harsh tug stings at your scalp.

big and fast for his age, mingi is over to the desk before the teacher can make it, staring down threateningly at hongjoong who wears an equally pissed off scowl.

"don't pull her hair!"

"she's so annoying," hongjoong whines, "her long, stupid hair is always all over my desk and it won't stop knocking into my pencil!"

"that doesn't mean you have to hurt her!"

hongjoong scoffs at the tall boy standing over him and yelling, throwing you a dirty look that has mingi cleching his small fists; he doesn't like when people are mean to any of his friends but especially you.

"she's just a baby," hongjoong spits, "it wasn't even hard."

"shut up!" mingi says just as you grumble "yes it was!"

"you shut up! why are you even yelling at me?" the smaller boy asks, "is she your girlfriend?"

"no! she's my best friend, you idiot!"

the teacher finally rushes over and seperates the boys, bringing them out into the hallway. you smile with watery eyes as you hear mingi's booming voice defending you, hongjoong's higher pitched whines frequently cut off by the boy.

he stomps back in a few minutes later, his eyes meeting yours and softening when you send a smile his way. and when school gets out at 3:00, you both sit on the swings where you tell him maybe you don't have a crush on hongjoong anymore.

jung wooyoung was the new boy in 5th grade. all of the girls had fawned over him the second he walked through the door, smacking each other lightly and giggling into one another as he introduced himself; and perhaps you were one of them.

because when your teacher asked you to be the new student's tour guide/buddy for the week, you hadn't really known what to expect. but then in he walked, all friendly and bubbly with his high-pitched voice bringing a smile to your face.

you introduced yourself five minutes before lunch, going up to him to explain that you were his arranged buddy for the week.

"oh, okay!" he chirped happily, "i'm wooyoung...but i guess you already knew that."

you giggle softly, nodding your head as you take out your purple lunchbox. "i'm y/n. do you...do you wanna sit with me at lunch? you could meet my friend mingi, too."

"sure," he said happily, his wide smile causing juenvile butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

"alright, cool!"

"cool."

you smile shyly before leading the way to the cafeteria, explaining to him all about the time periods, what hot lunches were best and how there were two other classes in your grade.

you spot mingi at your usual table, sending him a wave as he looks at you and the unknown boy with a mysterious look.

"mingi! this is the new student, wooyoung. wooyoung, this is my best friend mingi."

"hey," the boy said, smiling and waving at the boy.

"hi," mingi said back, nodding his head at him. "so y/n is your tour guide for the week?"

"yeah," wooyoung says, "she's been great so far."

"just wait, she still gets lost around this school."

you roll your eyes and scoff at your friend, smacking his arm lightly before plopping down in the seat next to him and chatting more with wooyoung. you had gotten better at talking to people as you got older but still struggled sometimes, feeling anxious when there was even the briefest of pauses in coversation.

but mingi was quick to fill it, asking wooyoung all about sports he liked and video games he's played. you hit the boy when he exposes your lack of athletic ability, laughing with wooyoung as he tells him about the time you almost knocked yourself out with a basketball.

but apparently, mingi's friendliness was a little insincere. because when you were sat on your living room floor doing homework a few days later, he confessed to you that he was a little bit...suspicious of wooyoung.

"really, mingi?" you laugh out, "because he's too nice? you sound crazy."

"i'm telling you, y/n," he insists, peeking at your math homework and erasing it upon seeing you had the wrong answer. "there's something up."

"leave my work alone!" you yelp, smacking the pencil out of his hand before you shake your head at him. "and leave wooyoung alone, too, he's a nice boy."

"it's suspicous, y/n," he grumbles, "i don't trust him."

but it only causes you to roll your eyes because nothing the boy did gave any indication he was less than genuine. and it's something you remind mingi of a week later, after consistently sitting with wooyoung at lunch and getting to know him in class.

"remember when you were like 'oh no, he's way too nice, i don't trust him, blah blah blah,'" you mimic, doing a lousy imitation of his voice. he throws a stray chip at you, watching as you attempt to catch it in your mouth and chuckling when you miss it.

"just wait, y/n," mingi says warningly, narrowing his eyes at you. "just you wait."

something about his tone causes you to raise an eyebrow, turning your head to the side before you mouth falls open.

"oh, my gosh!" you squeal, "are you... jealous?" you've never seen the boy's cheeks turn as red as they did upon you saying that.

"jealous?" he yelps, "no! of course not! what the hell would i be jealous of?"

"you don't want him to replace your spot as my best friend!" you reply adamantly, the giggle bubbling out of you causing your head to tilt back. "oh, my gosh, i totally get it now."

"now you're the one sounding crazy," mingi grumbles, shaking his head as he feels his cheeks continue to grow warm.

but you can only giggle again, crawling over to the boy with a teasing smile. "you don't have to worry, mingi," you tell him, pinching his cheek lightly, "you'll always be my best friend."

"i wasn't worried," he says dryly, pushing your shoulder lightly as you fall back with a squeal. "because who else would put up with you?"

"i'm sure wooyoung would," you tease, sticking your tongue out and smiling when you see an annoyed expression cover his face.

"just kidding!"

and thank god you said that. because you would've ended up looking like quite the fool. you walked into class monday morning excited to talk to your new friend, ask him all about his weekend and tell him about the new board game you got.

but the second you spotted him, you saw him talking to hongjoong, the boy you still haven't quite forgiven for his second grade antics. but you didn't think too much of it, shrugging it off and making your way to your seat to talk to the small group of girls you're close to.

but then when you went to get your lunch, you saw him come up next to you and brightly smiled at him.

"hi wooyoung! are you ready for lunch?

"hey, y/n," he said quietly. you noticed the solemn look on his face and furrowed your eyebrows, not used to seeing him lacking a bright smile or lit up eyes.

"are you okay?"

he looks back at hongjoong and the rest of the boys who are standing around the his desk awaitingly before turning back to you.

"yeah, i'm good," he says, "i just....i wanted to tell you i'm gonna sit with hongjoong at lunch today." your eyes filter across the room to see the group of boys now staring at both of you.

oh," you say, feeling just a little disheartened; you felt excited to talk to him after the weekend, gaining quite a soft spot for the boy after these past two weeks of becoming friends.

"i'm sorry," he winces, "they asked me before and i don't wanna-"

"it's okay," you giggle out suddenly, feeling silly for feeling upset in the first place. he's new and doesn't know anybody, obviously he was gonna be making more friends. "maybe we'll talk tomorrow?"

and you should've known by the half-hearted way he nodded at you that you wouldn't. that everytime you walked into the classroom and looked at him, only a small smile would be sent your way. that he now got his lunch before the teacher announced lunch time, successfully avoiding you and the need to have a conversation.

"i just don't get it," you mumble to mingi a few days later in the cafeteria. "why doesn't he wanna be friends anymore?"

mingi's cold gaze travels to wooyoung who has now seemed to become a permanent member of hongjoong's clan, narrowing his eyes at the boy in question when their eyes meet.

"i don't know," mingi mumbles, "boys are stupid."

you shake your head as a small giggle leaves your mouth at his comment. "but you're a boy, mingi."

"exactly, that's how i know," he teases, ripping his sandwich before assessing both halves. "here."

you try to hide your smile when you notice he's holding out the bigger piece, thanking him quietly and your fingers graze lightly as you take it. you munch on a few bites in a comfortable silence, the noisy chatter of other students surrounding both of you until mingi blurts out:

"you'll always be my best friend, too, y/n."

a wide smile covers your face immediately, the tugging feeling in your chest something you're still quite too young and naive to understand. but anyone around you can see it, the way your smiles brighten and eyes twinkle when you look at each other.

"i know, mingi," you say softly, hitting his foot with yours lightly under the table and giggling when he does it back. "because who else would put up with you?"

choi jongho was the youngest boy you ever had a crush on, noticing the cute sixth-grader at recess while you and your seventh-grade friends sat on the steps and watched.

"do you guys think he's cute?" one of your friends asked curiously; she had been watching the boys play kickball for the past 20 minutes.

"who? that sixth-grader?" your other friend said, eyeing the girl next to her like she just asked if she'd eat dirt.

"yeah," she says with shrug.

"that's so gross of you, why would you even care about a stupid sixth-grader."

you resist the urge to snort at her, watching as the boy kicks the ball and makes it go flying. he quickly makes his way around all the bases, his team cheering when he dramatically slides back to home.

"you know, that was just us last year," you point out to her, removing your gaze from the boy and looking at her face still full of distaste.

"oh god. so what, you think he's cute, too?"

"i mean, i guess..." you say, eyeing your other friend who gives you an affirming nod as you resist the urge to giggle.

and then your crush is basically confirmed by the next day at the end of recess. because the girls had been able to snag the last kickball, happily running to the field before you heard a male voice speak behind you.

"do you mind if we join you guys?" the voice says cooly and calmly, "maybe boys versus girls?"

you turn around to see him and he was even cuter up close, not too much taller than you but definietly bigger for his age. you can only find it in yourself to stupidily nod before attempting to snap yourself out of it.

"su-sure! let's go!"

mingi watches the field from his spot on the monkey bars where he consistently spends his time. you couldn't pay him enough money to play tag or chase a ball around, much preferring to chat with his friend while lounging in the sun.

he watches you with a smirk as you try your best to play, because he knows you really are trying. but once you miss the ball not only once but twice and then start hobbling your way over to the base, he bursts into laughter.

his eyes squint to see you in the distance looking over at the boy guarding first base. he's able to tell immediately that you like him, your shy smile and the way you quickly look away when he feels your obvious stare a dead give away.

"don't tell me you like that little sixth-grader," is the first thing mingi says to you as you guys line up to go back inside.

"what! who!" you yelp out, looking at your friend with a confused expression. but he knows you're feigning it, knows you know exactly who he's talking about.

"hey, you," mingi says to your friend who stood a few feet away from you. "who was the boy guarding first base?"

"the cute sixth-grader?" she says, a small huff leaving your mouth because now you know you're busted. "i think his name is jongho."

"jongho," mingi says as he turns to you. "please don't tell me you like jongho."

"oh, just shut up!" you say, pushing him forward as the line starts moving. his laugh rings through the fleeting outside air, shaking his head as turns around to start walking backwards.

"a younger boy?" mingi teases as he looks down at you, "c'mon, now, y/n."

"what's wrong with sixth-graders?!" you squeal, "we were in sixth-grade literally three months ago!"

"okay but now we're in seventh-grade," he says and a part of you hopes he stumbles over his feet, just a little. "you can't be crushing on little boys."

"i only see one little boy here," you spit, squinting your eyes at him and disregarding the fact that this boy has towered over you since the age of one.

"yeah, right," he quips with a roll of his eyes, turning around and laughing when he feels you smack his back lightly.

mingi and your friends tease you about your little crush on jongho for weeks, in disbelief that you'd even give the boy the time of day. but it's not like you even talk to him that much, only words in passing on the kickball field and at recess.

which is why it's incredibly embarrassing when your friend, in an effort to tease you, asks jongho to help you practice your kicking technique, insisting you need the extra assistance but are too shy to ask on your own.

"sure," he says with a shrug of his shoulders but your reddening cheeks and sweaty palms were hoping he'd say differently.

"no!" you squeak, "please, you don't have to! that's not-"

"it's fine," he chuckles out as he stands next to you. he makes your friend roll the ball to him, instructing you on the proper way to time it and then how to apply the right amount of strength.

mingi had noticed from his spot on the monkey bars and immediately had to jump down and make his way over; a front row seat to watching you interact with a boy you liked was something he couldn't miss.

"i noticed you seem to look scared of the ball," the boy says to you, a small grin on his face. "but there's no reason to be."

"i know.... but sometimes it just looks...fast," you say sheepishly and he chuckles at the shyness in your tone. the boy's about to respond when your friend, whose really not been acting like a good one lately, squeals about what a cute couple you'd make.

your face pales as you look at her with wide eyes, gaze nervously switching between her and the slightly stiff boy next to you.

"uhh..." jongho mutters, side-eyeing you before looking at your friend.

"what, you don't think?" she squeaks with a turn of her head and it causes mingi's blood to boil; he's never liked her and now he knows he's had good reason.

yours and jongho's discomfort is obvious, shoulders squared and eyes flickering nervously.

"uh...aren't you guys older than me?" he asks quietly. "that'd be kind of...weird."

your face flames even more, pressing your lips together into a tight line so you don't scream at her or start crying. but then you feel a familiar presence at your side, mingi's tall figure wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"more weird than a girl wearing a tank top over a long-sleeved shirt?" mingi quips, eyeing your friend's questionable outfit as her face twistes into one of shock and annoyance. "i don't think so."

jongho bursts out laughing, snorting into his hand before the familiar blow of a whistle rings through the air. "i'll see you guys tomorrow!" he says, turning to wave at you before making his way towards the buliding.

mingi and your friend have a bit of a staredown, your own hurt gaze roaming over your friend before the tall boy next to you speaks.

"let's go, y/n," he says, keeping his arm tight around you as he drags you off the field. you turn your head slightly to groan into him in embarrassment, his soft chuckle right below your ear.

"don't say a word."

"wasn't planning on it, grandma," he teases, fully accepting the hard slap that lands on his stomach.

kang yeosang was the first boy you "talked" to, the exciting but nervewrecking feeling of texting a boy into the night while claiming not to be tired at all. because you just don't wanna stop talking to him, giggling to yourself when he sends you a string of playful emojis and then squealing at the message that just pinged through.

but it's quickly cut off by mingi's whines.

"can you shut up already and stop texting him?" he rolls over in his sleeping bag, staring at you through sleepy eyes. he knew ninth grade was gonna bring dating and romance but he had no idea it'd be so damn annoying and start impacting his sleep at your friday night slumber parties.

"he asked me on a date!"

"at 1:00 in the morning?" he asks grouchily, voice deep from tiredness.

"no, silly," you say, rolling over to ruffle is bedhead. "for tomorrow night. we're gonna meet at the movie theater."

mingi hums lowly, a sinking feeling in his stomach already. and it's like you can feel it yourself, groaning lightly when you see his face.

"what?"

"nothing," he says, "he's just kind of douchey."

"you have no right to judge with some of the girls you associate with," you retort, wanting to roll your eyes and scoff just thinking about the little clan that surrounds mingi after basketball games or before class.

"i know, the one i'm with right now is dreadful," he says, smirking when you narrow your eyes at him. "kidding."

your phone pings with two more vibrations and mingi lets out a groan, rolling his eyes when he sees you quickly reach for your phone. your face flushes looking at his teasing expression, sticking your tongue out again before flipping over on your blanket.

"mind your business!"

when you and mingi wake the next morning, he attempts to calm your nerves. talking you off the ledge multiple times from telling yeosang you've fallen horribly ill or have to go visit your great aunt.

"why would you even say great aunt? why just not like...an okay aunt? a good aunt, even. but great?" mingi questions as he's laid out on your bed, watching you flip through the clothes in your closet.

and despite the nervosness fluttering through your stomach, you find yourself able to laugh at your friend, turning around to shake your head at him.

"you're so dumb."

"and so are you for being nervous," he says, getting up and walking over to you. "it's gonna be fine."

you lick at your dry lips, looking up at him with wide eyes. "how do you know? what if i don't know what to say and we lapse into an awkward silence? what if i fall asleep during the movie? oh, my god or what if i burp when we drink from our shared soda?"

"oooh, a shared soda?" mingi teases, "one straw or two?"

your lips turn into a pout at him making fun of you, craning your neck to the side and resisting the overwhelming urge to stomp on his foot with yours.

"don't do it," he says warningly, eyes dropping to your sock-covered feet causing a small smirk to cross your face.

"how did you even know," you mumble before turining back to your closet with a groan. "oh, my god i have no clothes. i can't go. i'm not going."

"you can and you will," mingi says, getting up and guiding you over to the bed by your shoulders. he commands for you to sit before rifling through your closet, picking out two different shirts and laying them out next to you.

"those are nice. pick between one of those and then like jeans or something," mingi says, "i'm going to raid your fridge and when i'm back, you better be dressed."

"get me some water, please!" you yell after him, smiling when throws a mock dirty look your way. you look over the two shirts mingi laid out, trying them both on before choosing one and pairing it with boots and a long necklace.

"and before you ask, i put in six ice cubes the way you always-"

mingi's loud voice halts when he walks back in your room, his mouth nearly falling open. you hadn't even done anything to your hair or face yet but the outfit clings to you in ways only puberty could cause, his eyes widening as they roam over you.

"what?" you squeak, quickly turning to the mirror to assess yourself. "do i look bad"?

"no," he's quick to assure, placing the glass of water on your dresser and making his way over to you. "you look like...." your eyes meet in the mirror and you raise your eyebrow at him, "a girl."

you spin around, a scoff leaving your mouth as you push him by the shoulder. "i've always been a girl, asshole!"

"i know," he laughs out, doing his best to keep his eyes on your face. "but now you really look like one."

"oh, my gosh are you... you're a pervert!" you squeal, hitting his chest multiple times and leading him towards the door. "i'm kicking you out! no pervs allowed!"

"i'm not!" he whines, "i swear i'm not. i was just saying."

"i'll see you tomorrow, pervert!"

but you end up seeing him just a few hours later. because you walked to the theater only a few blocks away around 6:45 since yeosang told you the movie started at 7:15.

7:15 came and went, your head popping up everytime you heard the ding of the door opening. but it was never him. not when it happened at 7:20 or 7:30 or even 8:00. you were on the verge of tears, the pit in your stomach growing as more time passes. you're there for a full hour before you accept that he's not coming, not a single text back from him after sending him five and calling three times.

the cold air stings your watery eyes on the way home, hands shaking and mind racing with a thousand different thoughts. why would he stand you up? did he intend to from the start or did something maybe come up? you felt more embarrassed than anything else, standing in that theater watching couples come and go while the workers looked at you grasp your phone with sympathy.

you stomp up the stairs and straight to your room, slamming your door and throwing back on your pajamas. you keep your face in the pillow for so long you can't believe you don't suffocate, not allowing the tears fall for that stupid boy.

your hands start itching to text mingi and you scramble for your phone, typing out a frowny face to him.

‘what happened?’ he texts back a minute later ‘is the movie that bad?’

‘i don't know, he never showed up’

your door bursts open five minutes later, two plastic bags in mingi's hands with a dark, anger expression on his face.

"i knew he was a douche," the boy growls, plopping the bags on your dresser before walking over to sit on your bed. "are you okay?"

his face crumbles when he sees your lips form into a pout, tears welling up in your eyes and he's quick to take you in his arms. you sit there and listen to his mumbles assuring how how much yeosang missed out, how he's just some random loser who didn't deserve to go on a date with you in the first place.

netiher of you comment on your tears, the wetness soaking through his shirt as you silently cry into him. he eventually leans you both back on the headboard, his arm around you as your head rests on his shoulder.

"i'm sorry," you wince, rubbing over the wet spot on his shirt.

"it's okay, a little snot won't hurt me."

"there's no snot," you grumble lowly, the whine in your voice causing him to chuckle.

he reluntanctly pulls himself away from you, gathering up the snacks he bought and bringing them over to your bed. and that's how you spend the rest of the night, cuddled into his shoulder watching a marathon of movies completely forgetting about the boy who made you cry.

choi san was the boy you had a two-month summer romance with. you think you loved him as much as a 15-year-old could love somebody, spending your days by his side on the beach or at the pool.

he wasn't only one of the most beautiful boys you'd ever seen, he was sweet. so sweet almost to the point where you didn't believe that he was real at first.

you had been laid out on your pink beach towel, nearly asleep in the blazing summer sun when a volleyball bounced right off your head. your first instinct was to yelp, your hand flying to your head and quickly shooting up to see where it had come from.

and there he stood, concerned eyes looking over your figure.

"i'm so sorry!" his voice franticaly apologized, "apparently i'm really out of practice and shouldn't be playing around the general public. i can take you to the first-aid office if you-"

"it's okay, i'm fine," you giggle at his rambling, stretching out your foot to drag the ball closer to you. "here. get some more practice."

his melodic laugh echos throughout the beach as he thanks you with a smile; you immediately notice his dimples and your own smile widens because that is the cutest thing you’ve ever. and he's about to turn around and walk away when he looks you over again, pursing his lips to the side before inviting you to play and help him practice.

"you just wanna make sure i'm not concussed," you tease, his bright smile aimed right at you the first of many that summer. it was all pure and innocent, arms and hands knocking into one another as you walk down the beach, always sitting side by side at weekend bonfires, his arms gripping your waist as you fall off the board during your surfing lessons.

he asks you the night he pecks your cheek if the boy you always talk about is your boyfriend. and you throw your head back in laughter like it was the funniest thing you ever heard because

"mingi?" you squealed, "no way! he's been my best friend since i was little. it's... not like that between us."

because when you got home from your nights out with san and his friends, you told mingi all about him. how you'd never met a boy that was just as cute as he was nice and, given your track record, mingi was reluctant at first. but then the more you talked about him, even briefly allowing them to meet over facetime, he got the best friend seal of approval.

the last week of your vacation was packed into time with san, the both of you trying to spend the last few days of your vacation together; mingi also had refused to video chat you, insisting he had a surprise for you when you got back.

so with a tearful departure and an exchange of phone numbers, you said goodbye to san. you guys promised each other to keep in contact, leave your relationship as just friends and see what happens within the next few months of texting.

and while a part of you was sad to leave behind his dimply smile and the hot sun, another part of you was overwhelmingly excited to see mingi now; you think this is the longest you've ever been apart. so the second you get home, you drop your stuff on the front porch and run to his house, banging on his door rapidly.

and when it opens, an audible gasp leaves your mouth. because there mingi stands, his tall handsome self even more handsome with sunkissed skin and a head full of red, wavy hair.

"your hair!" you squeal, jumping up to throw your arms around his neck; a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he picks you up in a hug and you're trying to remember if it always sounded like that.

"you like it?" he mumbles as he places you down, "i was so damn bored without you."

“i love it!” you squeak, lifting your hand up to ruffle his soft hair. he narrows his eyes playfully, moving his head away before dragging you into his house by your pointer finger.

you two lay out on his bed, your feet by his head and your head by his feet as you catch up on what you both did during your time apart. he tells you about the drama-filled house parties you missed, how a group of juniors crashed it and then successfully checked off mingi getting french kissed.

“you’re lying!” you laugh out, “you are lying to me.”

“i wish i was, y/n,” he says, the honest pain and terror evident in his voice as he relives the memory. “it was like she was trying to get me to inhale and digest it.”

your loud giggle booms through his room as you lean up on your elbows to look at him, leaned back against the headboard as he wears a tortured expression. but even with it, you can see why the girl’s were attacking him this summer.

because between his new hair and basketball workout routinue paying off, he is straying quickly from his nerdy, gangly teen self; your eyes can’t help but notice how broad his shoulders have also gotten.

“are you checking me out, y/n?” he asks, not being able to help the smirk that crosses his face.

“shut up,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes, trying your very hardest to pretend you weren’t. “you think because one girl tongues you, you’re hot shit now.”

“when did i say it was only one?” he quips. you shake your head, kicking him lightly in the stomach and causing him to snort. you hear your phone vibrate across the room, craning your head back before mingi suggests going to ice cream place in your town that’s only opened seasonly.

“oh, my gosh, please! i totally forgot about that!” you say, jumping up from his bed and tugging him out. “let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

you run over to check your phone, seeing two messages from san; you quickly respond to him asking if you made it home safe, sending him a confirmation with a purple heart before rushing out with mingi.

and that’s how it goes for the remaining weeks of summer. you and san sporadically texting before you run off to go in mingi’s pool or walk to the ice cream shop with him. you and san were able to talk on the phone one night jut for you to fall asleep ten minutes in, since mingi had woken you up bright and early to get breakfast.

by the time school starts, your texts with san fizzles out. both of you free at different times, you distracted by plans with mingi or san preoccupied with family functions. and two weeks ago, you would’ve thought that you’d be sad about that, not seeing his name pop up with a good morning or night text.

but it’s like the second you were reunited with mingi, you just wanted to spend all your time catching up with him.

jeong yunho was your first boyfriend, one of the happiest and sweetest people you’d ever come to know. you guys had been on three dinner dates, one more perfect than the next, before he nervously fumbled over his words and asked you to be his girlfriend.

your time with him had been ten months of bliss, soft kisses and gentle words from the boy you never once saw without a smile or heard raise his voice. you knew anyone would be lucky to have a boyfriend like him.

because on days you were sad or stressed with schoolwork, he would bring you your favorite snacks and let you fall asleep on his chest. when you were having a problem with something, he sat down and quietly listened before kindly offering his advice. when your relationship had started to get more sexual in nature, he was so slow with you.

pulling back from your lips and asking if you were sure it was okay to take off your shirt, slowly trailing his lips down your body and looking up at your eyes every so often to make sure you were okay with going past making out, insisting that you didn’t have to return the favor after he made you come on his tongue.

tonight, you were on a double date: you, yunho, mingi and his newest fling, a girl a year younger than you guys. the two boys had become incredibly close within the past months, sometimes you’d even come home to see them hanging out without you; but it made you happy, it felt good knowing your best friend and your boyfriend liked each other.

and mingi’s girl was actually really cool and sweet, she was a lot more friendly than the other girls he usually hangs out with. they’d been talking for about four months now and you both have become quite close of friends, sneaking off into the bathroom as girls do during these types of things.

“you and yunho really are so cute,” she says softly. “i know you guys were holding hands under the table.”

a small, embarrassed giggle leaves your mouth as your hands fly up to your cheeks. “stop!”

“better than mingi!” she says, “cheeky fuck was trying to finger me under the-”

“oh, my god!” you squeal, slapping your hands over your ears immediately. “stop it! he was not!”

“he was!” she squeals, her own embarrassed laugh leaving her now seeing your cheeks redden. “he’s so crazy.”

“oh, my god yunho would’ve died,” you tell her, “he’s so shy with stuff like that.”

“have you guys...”

you shake your head; you guys had covered most of the bases already, clumsy hands and muffled moans under his blanket or in your elbow. but you guys always got interrupted before anything could happen, whether it be by parents or phone calls. but it also seemed as if yunho was...apprehensive, almost overly concerned that you’d regret it or not want too.

“well i can’t imagine why,” she says, drying off her hands with a paper towel, “he can’t seem to keep his hands off you.”

for the reminder of dinner, you brain is wracking over the conversation from the bathroom. you’re not saying you wish yunho would try to do the shit your crazy best friend tries but you’ve been...more than ready to take the next step for the past few weeks now.

so after you guys depart and go back to yunho’s empty house, you make sure to tell him.

“are-are you sure?” the boy asks, “i told you i don’t mind wait-”

“no more waiting,” you say, leading him into his room and kicking the door shut with your foot. you’re about to kiss him, tug him down by the front of his shirt to meet your lips when you ask. “unless... do you want to wait?”

you giggle against his lips when he mumbles “no way,” your mouths connecting and your tongue slipping into his mouth. you fumble over to the bed, clothes littering the floor before your hands and mouths explore each other’s bodies. you moan out when his long fingers toy at your clit and enter you slowly, wriggling your hips toward him in an effort to make them go deeper.

“more, yunho,” you mumble breathily, “please.”

he responds with a kiss to your lips, his finger sliding in deeper and then adding another one when you ask him. after you come you lie on your back in bliss and wait for him to enter you, little whines leaving your mouth as you lay there wet and ready.

and you have to imagine this first experience went as good as any first time, his large length entering you and your tightness adjusting around him until he’s able to pick up his pace. it’s a nice feeling, you certainly wouldn’t call it bad, but it also didn’t feel as mind-blowing as its claimed to be.

yunho thinks otherwise though, thrusting into you with a final loud moan before rolling over and onto his back. and because he’s him, he’s quick to clean you up and guide to his chest. his hand runs over your hand soothingly, his touch as sweet as him and you can’t help but smile against his warm skin.

“wait, you’re really complaining that he’s too nice, y/n?” mingi asks a month later in disbelief, “am i actually hearing this right?”

“you don’t get it,” you say, slapping your hands on his counter in frustration. because you know it sounds like an absurd complaint to have about your boyfriend but... “we’ve almost been dating for a year and we’ve never had a single fight. he never disagrees with me, it’s almost like he just...agrees on everything with me to avoid a fight.”

mingi’s lips purse to the side in thought, cutting his sandwich down the middle; he had noticed that actually, how you mostly led the conversations and opinions. which he always found ironic, given that you’re typically the more shy and timid individual.

“i mean, that is a little odd...” your friend agrees but you see the reluctance on his face. “but c’mon, it could be worse. he could be a dick.”

“i know,” you squeak, snatching the other half of his sandwich off his plate and taking a bite despite his groans of protest. “but like...i don’t know, it’s just a little frustrating. like boring?”

“hm,” he hums, a smirk crossing his face before he looks at you. “sounds like you’re frustrated about something else as well.”

your eyebrows furrow together at the boy, shaking your head at him despite the fact that he’s spot on. “okay, mr exhibitionist, not everything is about that.”

a snort leaves him as he rolls his eyes. “apparently it is, mrs. i wanna be choked.”

“i never said that!” you squeak, a deep red blush rushing to your cheeks that only makes him laugh harder.

“i’m kidding,” he says, “but really. if you’re not happy with him, you should tell him.”

“i know,” you sigh, “but it doesn’t seem right. because he doesn’t do anything wrong. that seems very...i don’t know, selfish.”

“it’d more selfish to not tell him, i think. to just lead him on into thinking you’re okay with everything.”

you eyebrow raises at his comment, surprised by his slightly insightful comment. “you just want what’s best for your new best friend,” you playfully whine.

“new?” he asks, reaching out to bop the tip of your nose. “i’ve known you forever, y/n.” a small, shy smile crosses your face because there’s always something about him calling you his best friend that makes your heart tug.

and because your best friend was right, you sit down and talk with yunho a few days later. you tell him about your concerns and he tells you about his and you end up coming to the conclusion that perhaps you’re better as friends instead of significant others.

mingi comes over that night ready to mend a hurt heart, because break-ups no matter how amicable, are hard. but he’s happy to discover you’re okay and the two of you have a sleepover like old times. except this time, you share your bed and somehow end up falling asleep with his arms around your waist.

park seonghwa was merely a test, a known ‘badboy’ player at your high school who hasn’t had a serious girlfriend a day in his life. you figured he’d be a good test since as of lately, your mind has been...overflooded by thoughts of your best friend. thoughts you absoluetely shouldn’t be having.

because now you don’t only seek out his touches, playful grabs of your waist when you and your friends play manhunt or needing to have skin on skin contact during move nights, but it’s gone deeper.

waking up from a dream in a cold sweat and an ache between your legs. the sounds of his deep voice in your mind, flashes of his broad shoulders and wavy red hair and plump lips that you just want between your-

“seonghwa,” you moan, gripping his hair tightly as his head is buried between your legs.

the boy made it very clear: only call him when you wanna get off and he’ll do the same. and it made for quite a convenient arrangement during these past few weeks, waking up every few days from another sexually explicit dream of your very familiar neighbor; it also didn’t hurt that he had quite the skilled tongue.

“moving you,” is all he says as a warning, flipping over to lay on his back before guiding your hips back to his face. you quickly get the hint and start to lick him up and down, slipping him in your mouth and bobbing your head up and down.

the room is full of muffled moans and chokes, pressing back further onto his face as he bucks his cock further into your mouth until you both come with a loud cries.

you flip over onto your own back, catching your breath before sitting up in his bed. “always a pleasure, mr park,” you say playfully causing him to snort.

“that’s the forth time this week, y/n,” he hums, “what has you so pent up?”

you turn your head to look at him and he recognizes the look on your face all too well, a smirk crossing his face.

“or should i ask who?”

your mouth drops open slightly, eyes roaming his face because how the hell does he know?

“i’m frequently used for unrequited love,” he says lowly, throwing a wink your way. “so is it an ex or a friend’s boyfriend?”

“my best friend,” you sigh out after a few moments, throwing your naked body back down on the bed and rubbing your hands over your face. “i never thought of him this way and now all the sudden i’m...”

you end up telling seonghwa all about your friendship with mingi, explaining to him how long you’ve known him and how close you’ve always been before you noticed it morphing into something very different. because the more you thought about it, the more you realized just how quickly you’d forget or drop other boys because of him. how you were always comforted best by him, how you sought him out in times of distress or excitment and felt most comfortable with just you and him.

seonghwa hums thoughtfully at this information, taking it all in before nodding his head. he only utters a cryptic “interesting,” before tugging on his boxers and asking if you wanna get food.

you do the same thing next week with him, work up an appetite in the form of exhausting sex that numbs your mind until you both get food at the only late night diner open in town. and for a relationship based solely off sex, you and seonghwa find it easy to talk. it’s light-hearted conversation, picking fun at teachers and students you mutually dislike until your plates are polished off and you leave cash on the table.

seonghwa opens the door for you to leave just as mingi walks in with a group of boys, smiling at your friend who meets yours gaze.

“isn’t it past your bedtime?” he quips, ruffling the top of your hair.

“oh, shut up,” you spit, sticking your tongue out and poking his chest lightly. seonghwa watches the exchange with a smirk, mingi’s eyes catching his gaze.

“hi, seonghwa.”

“hey.”

mingi has heard far too much about seonghwa’s reputation, expressing his concerns to you over and over about the boy. but you insisted you knew what you were getting into and that appears evident before his very eyes, seeing as how seonghwa’s arm has snaked itself tightly around your waist.

there’s a few moments of awkward silence and you bite your lip in confusion, squinting your eyes at the harsh expression on mingi’s face.

“can i meet you at the car?” you ask, turning to look up at seonghwa. “i have to talk to him about something.”

“sure,” he says, smirking down at you before squeezing your hip. “but don’t make me wait too long.”

when the sound of the door shuts, you look up to see mingi’s eyes following seonghwa’s departing figure.

“hey,” you say, standing up on your tippy toes in hopes to block his view. “what’s wrong?”

“i don’t like him,” he grumbles lowly and you let out a small groan.

“mingi...”

“he’s not good, y/n,” he says, taking a step closer to you, “especially for you.”

“oh? and why’s that?” you ask, turning your head to the side as you raised your eyebrow at him playfully.

“he just... isn’t,” he grunts out deeply, your eyes widening slightly at his tone.

“i know what i’m doing, mingi,” you say, poking his chest lightly. “it’s the same thing that you do.”

because you’ve seen how many different girls he’s had flings with, how he’s exactly the same as seonghwa in the sense that he’s never had a real girlfriend.

“that’s how i know he’s not good for you, you deserve more than that.”

you smile softly at the boy, lifting your hand to rake your fingers through his fluffy hair. “it was my idea to start with him,” you hum lowly, “don’t worry, okay? i’ll see you tomrrow, yeah?”

his eyes roam over your face, feeling your heart contrict when he meets your gaze. you’ve watched him grow over the years but his eyes have always been the same, brown and soft as they look right into you.

“you’ve had a lot of dumb ideas but that’s probably been your worst.”

you let out a small giggle, poking his cheek lightly before turning around. “enjoy your pancakes!” you say over your shoulder, giving him a knowing wink that has a smirk pulling at his lips.

when you plop down in seonghwa’s passenger seat, he looks over at you with a shit eating grin on his handsome face.

“what?” you squeak out, pulling your eyebrows together at his expression.

“you guys are both dumb,” he laughs out, shaking his head.

“what do you mean?!” you yelp, refraining from hitting his arm.

“you guys like each other” the boy says, “actually, you’re probably in love.” and when you don’t say anything because your cheeks are too busy flushing, he makes it ten times worse by adding, “and he definitely wants to fuck the shit out of you as well.”

song mingi was your best friend of eighteen years. you were there for each other during everything: bullies and fighting parents and boyfriends, true, self-proclaimed best friends until one day the inevitable seemed to happen.

because you always wanted to believe you and him could just be friends, that platonic relationships between a boy and girl are absolutely possible. but it quickly became obvious that wasn’t the case for you both.

the middle of senior year was when the change happened and it was because of something as cliche as a drunken night. the both of you stumbled up to his room, his parents gone for the weekend visiting family, with a box of pizza in hand.

“you know how-” the boy hiccups, “you know how i know i love you?”

“how?” you whine out, stumbling over to his dresser to look for a pair of sweatpants.

“because...i would never eat this shitty pizza,” he groans, “but i-i know it’s your favorite and i like when you’re happy.”

you giggle into your hand, taking out a pair of black sweatpants before not so gracefully sliding your jeans down your legs. and because you’re in the state you’re in, mingi turns just in time to see you fumble over your inside out pants, running over to catch you last minute with a chuckle.

“oh, my god, y/n.”

he carefully lays you back on the the carpet, your druken giggles and flushed face distracting him from the fact that the only thing covering your lower half is a small, black thong. he’s doing his best to not let his eyes drop, training his face right on yours but he thinks that might be making it worse. staring at each other with you under him, your eyes hazy and hair splayed out on the floor.

“mingi?” you say suddenly, tone quiet and soft as you look over his face.

“mhm?” he hums, moving his hand so he’s grazing your hair.

“do you-do you actually love me?”

his eyes squint at you before they roam the rest of your face, his hand twitching with the need to reach out and touch your face.

“of course i do,” he says before getting out through gritted teeth, “you’re my best friend.”

because you never gave him any indication you wanted more, the way he’s wanted more since he hit the age of 14. he thinks it’s why he was never able to date a girl, far too distracted in kissing and fucking away the obvious need in to be with you. too busy comparing all of them to you and your connection.

“i don’t mean like that,” you whine, “i mean like...”

he waits for you to speak but you never do, just the sound of your heavy breaths filling the room now.

“like what?”

but you only shake your head, not wanting to be humiliated and the cliche, tipsy girl who pronounces her love to her best friend. “nevermind,” you mumble, arching your back to stretch and reach out to grab the pants you dropped.

but he’s quick to grab your wrist, shaking his head as his eyes remain on you.

“tell me.”

his grasp on your wrist and the deep demand in his voice causes you to swallow nervously, that familiar feeling brewing in your lower stomach; but your humiliation, the fear that you could potentially ruin everything outweighs it.

“it’s nothing, mingi,” you say quietly, “can we just eat the piz-”

“tell. me.”

his eyes are burning into yours now, your teeth digging into your lip now because okay, maybe your arousal might be outweighing all of your rational thoughts.

“you want to,” he hums lowly, his face lowering to yours, “i know you do.”

and whether it was your doing or his, your lips suddenly connect and bring a sense of immediate gratification. moans muffled by each others mouths, his hand fisting your hair as you bring your own to his cheek. he pulls away to kiss down the skin of your neck, mumbling your name and “finally” as you throw your head back in pleasure.

because it’s just the fact that it’s his lips, his tongue, his voice that has your veins flooding and coursing with excitment and lust.

“i’ve wanted you for so fucking long,” he mumbles against you, his large hands running up and down your sides.

“me too, oh...my god,” you whine, snapping your head up to look down at him; the sight alone makes you clench, biting the flesh of your lip to surpress another moan. “mingi, please.”

and you only have to ask once for him to scoop you up and place you on the bed, his body hovering over yours as you pull at his shirt. he takes it off in one fluid motion, portraying his bare chest and shoulders causing your mouth to turn up into a smile before it’s quickly replaced by his lips.

he hits every spot inside you with ease, your eyes rolling back and shrieks filling the room that you’d normally be embarrassed by. but then the sound of his moans and groans filling the room made it impossible to stop, the both of you breathing each other’s names and proving just how long you’ve waited for this.

you know what you did that night was meant to happen because the naturalness of it all almost seemed impossible, how easily your lips and bodies melted and fit into one another.

you fell asleep on his sweaty chest after hours of pleasure, listening to his rapid heartbeat slow under your ear. the last thing you heard was his deep mumble of “i love you” and you woke to a pepper of kisses on your cheek. your eyes popped open and heart soared when you saw him, the sunlight shining through and surrounding the strawberry-haired boy.

“hi,” you say softly, lifting your arms out to snake them around his shoulders and pull yourself into his chest. he chuckles into your messy, morning hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. you stay like that for a few moments, close and warm and breathing each other in until he pulls back to ask how you’re feeling.

“good,” you say quietly, your cheeks flushing at the sight of him in bed, in the morning light next to you. “really good, actually.”

“yeah?” he mumbles lowly, “and why’s that?”

you pick your head so your chin rests on his chest, wiggling your eyebrows playfully at him. “no reason.”

a mock look of hurt covers his face, his eyes narrowing at you which quickly causes to you to place a kiss on his cheek. “kidding!”

he smile softly, bopping your nose lightly before pulling you back into his chest. you spend the morning never leaving his bed, light kisses and soft giggles and quietly spoken love confessions.

and when you both hear the his front door open, his mom’s voice calling his name, your eyes widen and you scramble to put on clothes before running downstairs. you hadn’t even realized you were hand-in-hand, fingers intertwined, until his parents stop and look at you. both of them blankly stare, eyes moving from your flushed faces to connected hands, before his mom lets out a high pitched squeal of “finally!” and his dad groans.

you both watch as mingi’s dad takes out his wallet and hands over a $100 bill to her, side-eyeing the both of you as his mom snatches it and runs over to envelope you both both in a hug.

“you couldn’t have waited a few more months,” his dad grumbles.

“i knew you’d get together before high school ended!” his mom squeals, pulling back and letting out an aww when you hide your flushed face and giggle in his chest.

“mom! what the he- you made a bet?!”

“okay c’mon, you guys, it was obvious,” she says, bouncing off into the living room excitedly with a full heart. because she knew nothing made you both more happy than each other, her and your mom swearing from day one that this was destined to happen.

she watches an hour later you both at the kitchen counter, mingi smearing peanut butter on your face as you giggle and throw a piece of cheese at him.

you both make your sandwiches before cutting them down the middle, giving each other the bigger pieces out of instinct. mingi leans down to place a kiss on your lips as you rise to your tippy toes, giggling against one another before mingi asks if you’re allowed to be both his bestfriend and girlfriend.

#mingi #mingi fluff #mingi smut #mingi moodboard #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez mingi

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oscars-wifeyyy · 5 years ago

Text

The Innocent (Oscar Diaz Fanfic)

I just want to see if this is a good start lol I kinda just wrote this cuz it just came up in my mind

In middle school and freshman year of high school, Elizabeth Hernandez was a girl that had braces and acne all over her face. Before summer came she was accepted into the same writing camp that Monse got accepted in and didn’t have to pay a thing except for the transportation. The school year ended and the class of 2018 was having a party to celebrate the end of high school so the crew went to look at the party. The crew went to hide behind the wall to watch the party as it progressed into the night until everyone decided that they wanted to get a beer so Cesar snuck into the party to get everybody beer.

Ruby, Monse, Elizabeth, and Jamal stood watching the scene unfold. The girls were looking for Cesar, Ruby was looking at the girls, while Jamal was freaking out over the football players that stood by the house.

“Do you see him?” Monse asked, crossing her arms.

“I don’t see him,” Elizabeth went on the tips of her toes to see if she could get a better look.

“Something bad is gonna happen. I can feel it,” Jamal freaked out.

“Take a xanny, J,” Ruby glanced at Jamal, “We just can’t see him, ‘cause he’s being stealth,”

“Yeah,” Monse agreed, “besides, when has Cesar ever let us down?”

“Fourth grade. Kickball tourney,” Jamal looks at the group, “we lost,”

“That’s because I picked the kid with no skills,” the group turned, “and I would do it again. Loyalty trumps victory, compa,”

Elizabeth took the beer being offered to her, “got that right, salad,”

Cesar stood up behind the wall, “take it in, guys. This is about to be us. This is high school,”

The five took a sip of their beer and made a face of disgust, but continued drinking out of the can with the bitter-tasting liquid.

“Ruby,” Monse said, “you think Mario is gonna marry Angelica?”

Ruby shrugged, “No idea. Mario tells me jack,”

“What about that time he said Angelica had a dangler?” Jamal chuckled as Ruby tried to shut Jamal up, “what? He said that,”

“In private!” Ruby exclaimed, “time and place, dude. Oh, guys, check out Huerita at 9 o’clock. Monse, Eli, if you were a girl-”

“We are,” Monse interrupted.

“But if you were a girl like that, would you wear any underwear?” Ruby stared dreamily as Elizabeth turned to look at Ruby in disgust.

“Oh, my God. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die,” Jamal said.

“Why are you gonna die, J?” Elizabeth asked Jamal.

“See those guys over there?” Jamal pointed towards the guys in football jerseys, “they play for the ‘ridge. Did you know that last year alone a quorum of kids-”

“Died playing football?” Monse butt in, “you’re stuck on repeat,”

“So don’t play, sweets,” Elizabeth chuckled.

“No choice,” Jamal said, “Pops was a legend. It’s a family tradition. I’m dead,” Jamal jumped off the platform with Monse and Elizabeth.

“You’re not dead,” Monse said.

“Football spiral?” Cesar asked as he got down to help Jamal calm down, “Jamal, CTE is not in your future,”

“Guys, check out my game,” Ruby turned, “Heurita gave me the nod,”

A bald guy popped up and grabbed Ruby’s shoulder, “Eyeing my girl, cabron?”

“No, God, no. I’m not into blondes,” Ruby tried to get out.

“Easy,” Cesar said, “he does your mother’s taxes. Mrs. Guzamn, right?”

“Three thousand dollar refund. Schedule C, line 30. Home office deduction,” Ruby said.

“Seriously,” Monse looked at him in disbelief.

Another cholo came over the wall to see Cesar so he nudged the bald guy, “Yo, homes. What are you doing, ese? That’s Spooky’s lil bro, dawg,”

The guy let go of Ruby, “I didn’t realize it was you, homie. Hey, listen, man, tell Spooky Sad Eyes sends his respects,” Cesar nodded as the two cholos left the crew.

“Thank God for your brother,” Ruby rubbed his shoulder.

“Nah, thank God for better things,” Cesar shook his head as gunshots rang out and everybody crouched down.

“.357!” the crew yelled out after the 5th shot.

Soon they were in Ruby’s place, Jamal and Ruby were spying on Mario and Angelica arguing outside while Cesar, Monse, and Elizabeth were sitting on the couch. Elizabeth took out her phone to tell her mother she was fine and in Ruby’s house until Ruby and Jamal ran to the couch, “Mario’s coming!”

Elizabeth didn’t bother listening to Mario so she just put on her earbuds and looked at him as if she was listening, but when she thought he was done she took it out. Mario came back and said, “don’t bone Elizabeth and Monse,”

Everybody started laughing as Monse said, “Who would even wanna do that?”

The next day Monse and Elizabeth went to the coach station to catch their bus to the camp. Summer was spent writing in the middle of nowhere with activities and amenities provided for the students so Elizabeth was able to start working out, losing the acne, and lost the braces. A few months later, they were back and on their way to Ruby’s house.

Monse wore simple jeans and a shirt that showed a little cleavage while Elizabeth wore a blue destroyed with a burgundy bralette and ripped jeans that covered her legs. Smiles were on both faces, happy that they lost the metal prison that held their teeth captive. Both had grown breasts which attracted a lot of unwanted attention from the ice cream man as he was selling. They walked a little faster until a voice was heard that they recognized.

“Angelica, once I’m gone, I’m gone! There’s not gonna be a Christmas break hook-up! You know why? ‘Cause I’m gonna be hooking up with other chicks!” Mario took a pause, “white chicks!” another pause, “I don’t know why I’m saying that. It’s you! Talk to me, boo!”

“Maybe she’s not home!” Monse called out as Mario turned.

“Oh. Hey, guys,” the three met on the street, “how was camp?”

“Terrible. Mildly life-changing,” Monse shrugged.

“I can see that,” Mario looked down at their chests.

“Shut up, Mario,” Elizabeth rolled her eyes as a blush came on and tried to hide her newly found breasts.

“You can? How?” Monse asked confused.

“You just...look, I probably have to go before traffic hits,” Mario changed subjects.

“No prob. Good luck at Cal,” Elizabeth waved.

“Thanks,” Mario sighed, “and you two, keep an eye on Ruby? Don’t know what that kid’s gonna do without me,”

Monse and Elizabeth arrived at Ruby’s house and to his now own room, “we’re back!”

“Can you guys move that side table?” Ruby pointed at the table.

“No, seriously, don’t make such a fuss. We’ve only been gone all summer but really, it’s no big deal,” Monse glared at the boys.

“How was camp?” Ruby reluctantly asked.

“Camp was fine. Notice anything different?” Elizabeth and Monse smiled wide.

“Both of you got boobs,” The boys said.

“You can wait for Cesar to help,” Elizabeth glared.

Jamal stood up, “then we’ll be waiting a long time,”

“Why?” Monse asked.

“Where is Cesar?” Elizabeth asked.

“We’re not talking to him,” Ruby shrugged.

“Y’all in a fight?” Monse asked, crossing her arms.

“Well, it wasn’t really a fight. More like…” Jamal started but Ruby cut him off, “we’re not getting into it. Trust us, Cesar’s not cool,”

“Well, I’m not cool being not cool,” Monse crossed her arms, “and why aren’t you at football?” Monse asked Jamal.

“We should really get to orientation,” Jamal changed subjects as he stood up, “before those lines get too big,”

“Yeah, I don’t want to get too sweaty for my ID. Like Mario said ‘it’s all about the right first impression,’” Ruby said, straightening his clothes.

“And sticking together! You’re definitely deflecting this whole Cesar sitch,” Elizabeth rolled her eyes, “so stop being bitches and tell us,”

“Right!” Monse agreed.

Now they were on their way to school and Monse was continuing to pester the boys while Elizabeth gave up and let Monse deal with that. However, it was kind of a backfire for Monse because the boys’ gave her the silent treatment.

“What happened with Cesar?” Monse threw her hands up, “this silent treatment will only last so long. I will break you,” a pause went by, “come on! There is no way Cesar did anything on purpose to destroy our crew,”

“He’s the glue of our crew!” Elizabeth added.

“That was then, this is now,” Jamal shrugged.

“Yeah. Cesar ain’t shit,” Ruby agreed.

They turned the corner to see the Prophets so Elizabeth alerted the crew, “shit, Prophets!”

Everyone was searching their clothes to see if there were any colors that would set off the gang members. Ruby took off his hoodie but messed his hair up a little.

“Damn it. Did I just jack my do?” Ruby pulled out his phone to see how it looked until he saw Jasmine, “code dread, code dread, code dread. Approaching on your six,”

“Yo! You guys going to orientation?” Jasmine’s voice popped up, “hey, you know my cousin, Berto, the fine one? Hey. His daughter, Letty, said it ain’t nothing unless you can’t spell your name and then you hold up the line and people get mad,” Jasmine ranted, “hey, why you guys walking so fast? You know I got asthma,”

“Sorry, Jasmine! We’re having a private convo,” Monse called out, “real sensitive stuff,”

“That’s what you always say!” Jasmine yelled but took a deep breath from her inhaler and began running after the crew.

They finally lost her after a few minutes and they breathed out a breath of relief not seeing Jasmine behind them anymore.

“Man, she is relentless,” Ruby shook his head.

“Nice save,” Jamal appraised Ruby,

“Oh, you’re not safe,” Monse interrupted.

“You’re threats aren’t penetrating, ok?!” Jamal said, “I’m not telling you what Cesar said,”

“Aha!” Monse turned to them, “so he did say something!”

“Jamal!” Ruby yelled, “do you need a muzzle? Monse, no offense, but you’re a loose cannon. We’re not telling you for your own protection,”

“My protection?” Monse leaned closer to Ruby, “eat a dick,”

“Case in point,” Ruby said, “you don’t even know and you’re at Defcon Solange,”

They continued walking and as they were walking past an alley they saw a guy getting jumped into a gang. Monse and Elizabeth began staring at the actions happening, but Ruby and Jamal took each of their arms.

“Don’t look,” Ruby grunted, “keep walking,”

“Why would anyone wanna get jumped on 19th street?” Jamal asked, “I’d join First Street. Only one second of pain,”

“Agreed,” Ruby said, “besides, who would want a lifetime commitment at our age?”

“Apparently neither of you,” Elizabeth chuckled.

“Lack of commitment seems to be a noticeable trend in this friendship,” Monse shook her head, “as does lack of space,” Monse pushed the boys away.

“We can’t tell you what Cesar said,” Jamal said.

Rap music was being played from down the street from a red Impala, “fine then. I’ll ask myself. Eli, let’s go,”

Monse walked in front of the car as a head stuck out of the window, “Hey, you crazy?!”

Monse and Elizabeth walked over to the driver’s side and leaned down, “we just wanted to let Cesar know that we were back in town,”

“And looking like some fine ass hynas,” the mystery cholo smirked.

“Underaged hynas,” Monse snapped.

“Not for some,” the cholo stared at Elizabeth, “it’s all good. You just look a lil different. What is it?”

“My boobs,” Monse deadpanned.

“Nah, you got your braces off,” he laughed, “and who are you, hermosa?”

“Elizabeth,” she blushed.

“Cool. Spooky,” he drove away as the girls went back to the boys on the sidewalk.

“When did Oscar get out?” Monse looked confused.

“Six weeks ago,” Ruby answered as they covered the girls cleavages with their sweaters.

“Now it makes sense! Whatever Cesar said, he said to impress Oscar. Cesar’s terrified of his brother,” Monse smiled.

“Along with everyone else,” Ruby said.

“Then who cares what he says,” Elizabeth shrugged.

“Oh, just drop it!” Jamal raised his voice.

“Do we look like we can just drop it?” Monse asked.

“Actually you do. You just won’t,” Jamal shrugged then a body jumped out from behind them.

“Tax time, bitches!” Latrelle said, “hands up, money out,”

“How can we take out money out with our hands up?” Elizabeth asked.

“I know you bookheads got that back to school gwop,” Latrelle scowled.

Monse started talking, “actually, it’s orientation day. Technically, we’re neither in school nor out of school. We’re…”

Ruby covered Monse’s mouth, “we don’t have any money,”

Latrelle gave a look to Jamal, “what about that 20?” Ruby groaned and handed Latrelle his 20.

Elizabeth, Monse, and Jamal were walking from orientation and were now in front of Cesar’s place that was filled with Santos. Monse and Jamal were going back and forth on the situation, but Elizabeth was stuck on the sight of “Spooky” working out as his muscles constricted when he lifted the weights. Slowly, she came back to reality and the bickering between Jamal and Monse.

“...but he would never join the gang. He’s an outlier so whatever is going on it isn’t that,” Monse snapped at Jamal.

“He isn’t the same,” Jamal said, “he dumped us,”

“But we weren’t here so it’s not official,” Monse looked across the street.

“If someone breaks up with you over text, is it official?” Jamal asked,

“Yes,”

“Consider me the text,” Jamal clicked his tongue, “Ding! You’ve been dumped,” Elizabeth and Montse rolled their eyes and started going over there, “wait! Please don’t go. Please, you’re not… you’re not safe,”

“Why?” Elizabeth asked.

“Because…” Jamal looked at their newly developed chests, “both of you blossomed,”

“Blossomed?” Monse asked.

“Popped. Busted out. Puffed your party pillows. Whatever you wanna call your new cha-cha-bingos,” Jamla pointed towards the cholos, “these new homies he’s hanging with are thirsty,” Jamal threw his hoodie onto Monse, who tossed it back as Elizabeth and herself walked to the other side of the street, “Ok. don’t worry, girls! I got your back…”

The two approached the exiled friend as the other Santos turned to stare at the two walking up to the younger Diaz. Monse stopped in front of Cesar as Elizabeth, coincidentally, stood in front of Oscar, who was staring at her. The leader’s eyes felt like it was burning holes through Elizabeth’s face, but she didn’t make it look obvious even though there was a blush on her cheeks.

“I need to talk to you,” Monse said firmly.

“I’m listening,” Cesar stayed seated.

“Privately,” Elizabeth whispered as the Santos turned to stare at them longer.

“Yeah. We can go inside,” Cesar’s older brother cleared his throat, “but, uh, if you both wanna sit on my face, y’all gotta put those mouths on pause so I can concentrate,” Laughs were heard from the cholos so Monse quickly bailed and went back to Jamal; however, Elizabeth felt a wave of burning anger in her so she pulled her fist back and punched Cesar on the mouth. He groaned as Elizabeth leaned closer to whisper into his ear.

“Do not try to come back and get along with me until you make things right with Monse. I know what y’all did so I’m only doing this for her now,” Elizabeth said, “come near me and I will punch the shit out of you again,” Elizabeth left as Cesar looked at her with slight fear in his eyes and the cholos stared at her in lust after the action was taken by her. Her cheeks burned red at the attention especially from the certain leader that sat next to Cesar. Oohs were heard from the porch, but Elizabeth paid no mind to it as she went back to walking with Jamal and Monse.

“Cesar is dead to us!” Monse yelled.

“Told ya,” Jamal said as he ran to the back of the bushes.

“He doesn’t get to break up with us,” Elizabeth rolled her eyes, “we’re breaking up with him,”

“Sit on my face? Who says that?” Monse stuck her hands out.

“Chairs who can talk! And buttholes!” Jamal called out from the bushes.

“I wouldn’t put dumb crap like that past Oscar, but Cesar?” Monse asked in disbelief, “what happened to him?” Jamal was rolling around when Monse came into an idea, “Cesar’s gotta be hitting the pipe. Right? right!”

“Could be?” Elizabeth shrugged as Jamal jumped onto the next patch of grass. “That was totally out of character,” Monse shook her head, but realized what Jamal was doing, “what are you doing?”

“I’m getting into character,” Jamal sprayed water onto her armpits and clothes, “hey, pops. Say nothing and go with my flow,”

“Monse! Eli! Welcome back, babies. Ready for the new year?” Dwayne hugged both girls.

“Bound to be a lot of surprises,” Monse shrugged as she reciprocated the gift already.

“How was practice?” Dwayne asked his son.

“Yeah, how was practice?” Elizabeth smiled as Jamal threw his gym bag at her.

“I don’t know. Ask those D1 scouts who were all up on me,” Jamal pulled on his jersey.

Dwayne chuckled, “that’s my boy!” He pulled Jamal into a man hug then walked away with an extra pep to his step and back to his gardening.

“Did you quit the team and not tell your dad?” Monse asked.

“No,” Jamal looked at Monse, “yes. Look I suited up first day, and I just wasn’t feeling it,”

“Wasn’t feeling it?” Elizabeth threw the bag back at Jamal.

“Yeah. Wasn’t feeling like breaking my neck,” Jamal threw the bag down on the ground, “listen, everybody that knows me knows that I suck, except my pops. And he keeps thinking that I’m just gonna wake up one day and be him, and...I’m not him,” Jamal sighed, “I just need the right time to tell him,”

“How ironic that a guy that can’t keep a secret is keeping the biggest secret of his life,” Monse smirked, “I’m gonna rat you out to your dad,” her smirk fell, “unless you drop the 411 about Cesar. What did he say?”

“No!” Jamal denied.

“Yes!” Monse said, “Mr. Turn-”

Jamal covered Monse’s mouth, “Cesar said you let him hit it before you left for camp,” Jamal said in one breath.

The two girls were fuming and decided to do a group call later with Ruby to find out the context and how he said it, but Elizabeth had work that night so she couldn’t participate, settling on telling Monse to keep her updated. A long six hours of working, she got off at 10pm and checked her phone to see a text from Monse telling her to meet at Dwayne’s joint at five to chop it up.

The next day came around and Monse and Elizabeth were at the joint with Jamal as he and Elizabeth worked. Elizabeth sometimes worked for Dwayne to earn a little extra money to prevent herself from asking for money from her mother because her mother was already deep in debt and Elizabeth was doing anything in her power to help her out.

“That’s the eleventh text,” Monse sighed, “Ruby’s almost 2 hours late,”

“He said he’ll be here, so he’ll be here. Trust me,” Jamal gave the customer his order.

“Yeah, Mon. Chill,” Elizabeth smirked.

“Said the guy pretending to play football?” Monse stared at Jamal.

“Maybe my pops won’t notice,” Jamal hoped.

“I don’t think that’s possible, J,” Elizabeth motioned towards the countless photos of Jamal playing football.

“Where the hell is Ruby?” Jamal put his hand on his head.

After a few minutes, Monse and Elizabeth decided to go to Ruby’s house to see what was going on. The two rushed in through the door to see Ruby standing on top of a table, wearing a pink dress, and Abuelita was hemming it.

“What the hell is going on ?” Monse asked.

“I think it’s pretty obvious,” Ruby rolled his eyes.

“Great,” Monse rolled her eyes, “so, walk me through the moment Cesar said what he said,”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ruby looked at Monse.

“There you go again,” Monse crossed her arms.

“There you go again what?” Ruby looked confused.

“Keeping things from us,” Elizabeth stood by Monse’s side, “stop withholding things from us,”

Monse pulled Ruby outside onto the porch, “Monse, wait! Monse! We need to go back inside,”

Monse faced Ruby, “what did Cesar exactly say? And how did he say it? We need context, tone. We need to know, Ruby.”

“Y’all know what I know,” Ruby insisted, “what I don’t know is why he said it. But he said it. We tried to get him to take it back, but he wouldn’t. So what can we do? Drop it,”

“I can’t,” Monse looked down.

“Why not?” Ruby asked.

“‘Cause I’m still figuring out if I still hate him. You heard what your brother said. How are we gonna survive high school without Cesar?” Monse said.

“Mario’s not some sage. Don’t take his words to heart, it’s just words,” Ruby tried to persuade Monse, but she wouldn’t give up.

“If that’s true then why should we take Cesar’s words to heart?” Monse turned the tables, “they’re just words,”

“Sometimes, it’s not what you say, but how you say it. And Cesar said it like he meant it. But things could be worse,”

“What’s worse than losing a friend?” Elizabeth asked.

“Entering high school with a rep,” Ruby said, “you’re smart enough to know that a rumor could ruin your life,” Monse and Elizabeth nodded, “but it’s contained.”

“You’re right. No one knows,” Monse sighed.

Jasmine rode by Ruby’s house with her scooter, but she stopped to talk to the three, “hi! Damn, Ruby. I see you! I see you! And I’m down with it,” Jasmine winked at Ruby, “I like the freaky, just like Monse,”

“What are you talking about?” Elizabeth asked.

“Y’all ain’t gotta be shy with me,” Jasmine smiled, “I know Cesar and Monse be getting it in,” Jasmine humped the air.

“No one knows?! Really?” Monse scoffed, “I officially hate the traitor, and now I’m gonna kick his ass,”

“Girl, I’m coming with,” Elizabeth growled.

“Monse! Eli!” Ruby ran back inside to take the dress off as the two girls got closer to the Diaz residence.

The two girls arrived at the Diaz house to see Cesar riding his skateboard and Oscar chilling on the wall. When they saw the suspect, Monse marched her way to Cesar and pushed him off of his skateboard.

“You little bitch!” Monse yelled as she began hitting Cesar.

“Damn, that hyna’s wild. Must be a freak on all fours,” a cholo said.

“Shut the fuck up, cabron. Before you’re gonna be like little homie over there,” Elizabeth snapped at the nearest cholo.

“I fought for you. I had your back. For what? For you to impress your puto friends and humiliate me?” Monse continued hitting Cesar as he tried to shield his face from the enraged girl on top of him.

“Hermanito, you better back up before you get smacked up,” Oscar smirked.

Elizabeth turned to the leader, “Callate, puto. You aboutta be smacked up like tú hermanito,”

“Watch it now, nena,” Oscar winked at the spitfire sophomore.

“Monse! Eli!” Jamal yelled as Ruby and Jamal pulled Monse to the sidewalk.

Elizabeth glared at the leader of the Santos as she walked back to her group of friends to listen to what they had to say.

“This is why we didn’t want to tell you guys!” Ruby yelled.

“Y’all goin’ crazy!” Jamal added.

“Crazy? We’re crazy?!” Monse yelled.

“Calm down. Breath,” Ruby tried to calm Monse down.

“Don’t you patronize me!” Monse pushed Jamal, “I don’t need you! Any of you! I was just trying to keep our crew together, but since Eli and I are the only ones who cares, y’all are dead to me! I’ll survive on my own,” Monse walked off.

The three stood completely dumbfounded by the afrolatina’s rant, but began walking home until a certain voice stopped them.

“Elizabeth,” The three turned to see Oscar standing on the steps of the porch, “come here,”

Jamal and Ruby looked at Elizabeth, asking if they should stay with her, but she knew that they were scared to even stay another minute, “it’s alright. I’ll text y’all when I get home,”

The two boys nodded and rushed to get home and avoid the feared leader so Elizabeth turned to walk towards the now empty porch. Oscar stood on the porch with a strong pose that oozed power and a smirk showed proudly upon his lips.

“Y-y-yeah,” Elizabeth stuttered.

“Let’s go inside so we can talk,” Oscar turned to the door to open it for her.

“No, gracias. Podemos hablar aquí,” Elizabeth blushed.

“Por qué eres tímido ahora? You were just talking real big, bebita,” Oscar smirked at the sudden shy girl in front of him.

“I w-was just heated i-in that moment,” Elizabeth put her arms behind her back and looked down when she felt the leader’s stare on her face.

“Alright. Let me see tu teléfono,” Oscar held out his hand.

“Por qué,” Elizabeth looked at him confused.

“Let me just see it. I’m gonna give you my number,” Elizabeth handed him her phone, “you can text me whenever and call me. If you need anything then hit me up, hermosa,”

“Oh, o-ok. Gracias, Spooky. Call me Eli. I kind of don’t like my name,”

“Oscar. Call me Oscar and no problema, princesa,” Oscar winked, “let me walk you home. Where do you stay at?”

“A few houses that way,” she pointed to her right.

“Alright. Vamos, hermosa,” Oscar walked down the steps, holding his hand out to help Elizabeth down the stairs, “so why haven’t I met you yet?”

“estaba en la prisión when I started hanging out with the crew,” Elizabeth shrugged.

Oscar nodded, “well, I find you muy hermosa. Let me get to know you,”

They were in front of her house as she leaned on the gate with Oscar leaning his hand next to her body and the other hand in his pocket, “we’ll see, Oscar Diaz. Buenas noches,”

“Buenas noches, hermosa,” Oscar smirked at the girl that walked under his arm to go inside the gate.

She had to work the next day so she immediately did her nightly routine then fell asleep in her bed with dreams of the big bad leader that live a few houses down. Her dreams carried her away and into dreamland until 7 am and her alarm blaring and telling her to get up. Elizabeth groaned as she slammed her hand down on the alarm and got up to get ready for the day. Once she was dressed and ready to go, she started cooking breakfast for herself and her mother since her dad was at the hospital still so she settled for eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns so she wouldn’t be late to the bus.

Elizabeth closed the front door and made her way to the bus stop with her earphones pushed into her ears with music blasting to keep her distracted from her surroundings. After a short five minute walk to the bus stop, a red Impala pulled up in front of it, but Elizabeth didn’t pay any mind to it until the driver had honked his horn. She looked up fast and saw the familiar bald head and bicep tattoo.

“H-hey,” Elizabeth smiled.

“Where you headed?” Oscar raised an eyebrow.

“Some of us have to work and can’t lead a gang,” Elizabeth chuckled.

“Where is it at? I can drive you,” Oscar leaned over to open the door.

Elizabeth thought for a second before getting in, “it’s in San Bernardino. Amazon warehouse,”

“Why are you working there?” Oscar began driving the car, “don’t you gotta have your diploma for that?”

“Yup, but I have some connections and they let me work there. They pay well and I got enough saved for the future,” Elizabeth sighed.

“Whatchu savin’ up for in the future?” Oscar glanced at the young girl.

“That’s gotta be at a later time,” Elizabeth shrugged, “if y-you even s-stick around,”

Half an hour passed with small talk between the two until they finally arrived in front of the warehouse building. Elizabeth gathered her stuff and opened the door to get out until a hand touched her forearm,

“Mamita, what time you getting off?”

Elizabeth turned with her cheeks ablazed, “3. Bye, Oscar. Thanks for the ride,”

TIME SKIP

It was the end of Elizabeth’s shift and she made her way out after clocking out and as she opened the door, she saw the familiar Impala with a familiar body leaning against the front. She walked up to the body with red cheeks that seemed to always come when he was around.

“W-what are you doing here?” Elizabeth cleared her throat.

“What does it look like?” Oscar smirked, “picking you up, bebe,” Oscar opened the passenger door for her so she got inside and fiddled with her fingers as Oscar went around to get into the driver’s side. When he got inside, Elizabeth quietly thanked him for taking her to work and picking her up,

“Gracias, Oscar, for picking me up and dropping me off,”

“No problema,” Oscar looked straight ahead at the traffic and a comfortable silence followed. “You’re very shy pero you have a fire in your eyes that you won’t let out. Por que?” Oscar questioned her as they got closer to Freeridge.

They were getting closer as Elizabeth thought about her answer until they reached her place, “some things...are meant to be kept inside,” she opened the door and got out, “bye, Oscar,”

The two went separate ways as the days went by and it was the first day of school. Elizabeth’s alarm went off as she groaned and slammed the snooze button to rub her eyes. At that moment, her mother came in and sat on her bed with a small smile at the sight of her daughter waking up, reminding the mother of the past times her daughter woke up.

“Mi amor, time to get up. It’s time for school and I made breakfast before I have to leave for work,” Leticia Hernandez smoothed down Elizabeth’s hair.

“Gracias, ma,” Elizabeth smiled before it dropped, “how is papa?”

“Tu papa es bueno pero still the same,” Leticia teared up, “things will be ok, mija,”

“I know, mama,” Elizabeth kissed her mother’s cheek, “I paid the phone bill and the internet bill so don’t worry about that,”

“Mija, don’t do that,” Leticia slightly frowned, “you should keep that money for you. I got the bills,”

“I know, ma, pero it’s fine. I have enough for myself. I just wanna help relieve some stress from you,” Elizabeth pouted.

Leticia’s eyes began overwhelmed with tears as it began running down her cheeks, “I don’t deserve a daughter like you,”

“Yes you do, ma,” Elizabeth hugged her mom, “you deserve the world with how hard you’re working. Now get to work so you’re not late and so I can get ready for school,”

“Wait, before we do that. I got something for you in the mail,” Leticia pulled out a letter, “read it,”

Elizabeth took the envelope and saw “UCLA” on the corner, when she saw it, her heart pounded in her chest and she began to get nervous, “open it, mija,” her mother softly said, Elizabeth’s hand shook as she opened the envelope and took the paper out. Her eyes skimmed over the letter and stopped at the first few lines of the letter seeing the “congratulations.”

“I-i-i goT IN! MA, I GOT IN! FULL RIDE SCHOLARSHIP! I’M GOING TO UCLA WHEN I’M DONE WITH HIGH SCHOOL!”

The two cheered and jumped around with tears going down their eyes, but soon embraced each other in a long hug. After a few minutes, they went their separate ways to continue with their day as Leticia left the house to go to the hospital for her shift as a registered nurse. Elizabeth went down to eat her breakfast, but was able to finish half of it so she packed it to put it in the fridge then did her morning routine. Once everything was done, she put on her denim shorts and a black v-neck t-shirt with checkered Vans slip-ons that adorned her feet. When she grabbed her backpack from next to her bed, she left her humble abode and to the Diaz house to meet with the gang.

“‘Sup, guys,” Elizabeth yawned, “we waiting for Diaz?”

The group nodded as the sound of a door opening caught their attention even more when Cesar walked out and to the group. Everyone looked at each other then began walking to school to start off the new year.

“I can’t do this,” Jamal said, “I can’t keep secrets! It’s gonna make me implode! I don’t know why anybody keeps secrets,”

“There is something I need to tell you guys,” Monse said before gunshots rang out.

“.44!” Everyone yelled with a smile for the feel of things going back.

However, that was when a car pulled up next to them, “Cesar,” Oscar called out as he got out and pulled the seat to allow enough space for Cesar to get through.

Cesar looked at the group then went into the car with his older brother and gang before Oscar pushed the seat back and got in himself, sparing a glance towards the crew. He drove away as the group followed to stand in the middle of the road looking at the back of the Impala.

“What were you going to say?” Ruby asked as he turned to Monse.

“Cesar,” Monse turned to the remaining group, “we need to save him,”

#Oscar Diaz #oscar spooky diaz #oscar diaz imagine #oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz fanfic #oscar diaz imagines #spooky diaz #spooky diaz x reader #spooky diaz imagines #spooky diaz imagine

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deans-baby-momma · 4 years ago

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Wounded Hearts 2

Summary: When John Winchester leaves his two high school-aged sons in a motel in Fairfax, IN while he goes off on a hunt, they both make friends. What happens after they have to suddenly leave when John comes to fetch them. Will those friendships endure? Does Dean leave a piece of his soul behind?

Word Count: 3,408

A/N: This is a sequel to Past Haunts, but it’s mostly what happened in the thirteen years between high school and when Sam and Dean return to take care of a haunting in their old stomping grounds of Truman High. The first couple of chapters will be mainly Dean’s POV and then after that, each chapter will switch from Dean’s POV to Rebecca’s POV. I will label them appropriately.

Rebecca’s POV

The walk home is kind of uncomfortable. My crotch is sensitive and tender and these jeans are not helping at all. I think over what just happened. I just gave my virginity to Dean Winchester. The boy who came out of nowhere and walked the school halls like he owned the place. I briefly thought about how just last week he was all about Amanda Heckling, the popular girl, the head cheerleader. Had he fucked her too? They had seemed hot and heavy for a minute but then, just as quickly as he showed up, they were over and he was proclaiming to the halls that he was a hero. Had he taken Amanda's virginity too?

I shake my head and huff a laugh. No way was Amanda Heckerling a virgin. Not since freshman year at least. She had been caught with her pants down, literally, with Justin Scott in her bedroom. So, no Dean definitely hadn't taken Amanda's innocence.

As soon as I get home I rush to the bedroom to change out of my- now damp from the remnants of what had transpired between me and Dean- panties. Thankfully it's just my cum filling my underwear; Dean had wrapped it up before he fucked me.

I change quickly, wadding my ruined panties into a ball and stuffing them to the bottom of the hamper. My mom yells that dinner is ready and I pause, taking a breath and praying that neither she nor dad can sense the change in me. I'm no longer their innocent little girl but a woman, an adult capable of safely fornicating.

I can feel their stares, hear their whispers as I walk to my locker. Does everyone know? Are all my classmates aware that I am no longer pure and virginal Rebecca Quentin. Do they know that I oh so easily gave it up to Dean Winchester? Or am I just imagining it all?

I grab my books and sign in then take my regular seat in Mrs. Meadows' English Lit class. My heart is pounding in my ears, knowing that shortly Dean would walk through the door. Would he sit beside me, like he did Amanda? Would he ask me to be his girlfriend? I mean, we've already done the deed so that's the next step, right? Ok, so our steps are a little misconstrued but so what?

I hear him before I see him, his heavy army-style boots stomping down the hallway. As soon as he enters the room, my breath catches in my throat. I'd always thought Dean was good-looking but now? Damn is he sexy as hell! I can't help but turn away to hide the blush on my face as I remember his touch and how it felt to have him inside me. My heart drops as he passes by the empty desk beside me to take his seat at the back of the room. Dammit, maybe it wasn't as special to him as it had been to me. Maybe he was used to defiling girls and then acting as if they didn't exist. As Mrs. Meadows calls for attention I vow to confront him at lunch. Hopefully we can have a quiet discussion and not cause a scene.

By the time the bell rings for lunch, I am a nervous wreck. The more I thought about it, the less I wanted to address the obvious elephant in the school. Dean Winchester conned his way into my pants; pretending to be a gentleman and noble when in all reality he was a fraud, a hustler. Watching him with his little brother yesterday, how he had made sure Sam was well-fed and taken care of had to have been a ruse! Just a way to get me to let my guard down and then he struck when that window of opportunity opened; like a snake, a conniving devious snake.

Deciding I can't civilly accost Dean, I make my way to the vending machines. I'll just go to the motel after school and talk to him then. I just hope he hasn't duped his next victim there. That's what I feel like; a victim, a casualty of the trickster that is Dean Winchester. I scan the lunchroom as I enter but see no sign of Dean or his brother Sam. I sigh in relief as I don't think I could handle being ignored again. I sit at a table in the corner and open my bags of chips.

The rest of my classes were dull and lackluster. I just couldn't concentrate on anything any of my teachers were saying. The concept that Dean was ignoring and avoiding me was breaking me, was breaking my heart and soul. I wanted to know why. Why did he choose me? Why did he have to defile what could have been an incredible friendship? Maybe even a wonderful and dare I say loving relationship. Did getting the privilege of saying he slept with me mean more to him than that? The more I thought about it, the angrier I got until I had furiously scribbled a hole into the paper on my desk. I was going to that motel after school and finding out!

When the last bell sounds, I gather my books and head to my locker. I look morosely at locker #214, the one Dean had been assigned. It was only a few down from mine. I hadn't seen him all day; not since he so openly ignored me during first period. It is painfully obvious he was avoiding me. Well I am going to put a stop to that. I march out of the building and head down the same path we had walked yesterday, straight to the place it all went downhill, room 7 at the Motel Monroe.

A few hours later

I knock on the door and wait. And the longer I wait, the more upset I get. How dare Dean ignore and avoid me and act like I don't exist in his world. Yesterday, he acted as if he made me believe he was interested in being my friend, if not more and today I'm nobody?

I'm not a nobody. I get perfect grades and in less than a year I will be moving away, going to college and in a few short years graduate with a master's in psychology and on my way to becoming one of the best behavioral counselors in the country. I have plans and dreams; I'm not just some girl to pass the time with.

After a few minutes and another knock, there is still no answer. I step to the window to see inside but the curtain is closed tight. 'Oh no you don't, Dean Winchester,' I think silently. 'You are not hiding from me. We are going to hash this out like adults.' I walked toward the manager's office to find out if there is a way to get him to open the door. Instead I find devastating news when the manager tells me, "They cleared out about 3 hours ago."

I walk away from the motel, the place I lost my virginity in with tears threatening to roll down my face. Will I ever see him again?

Eight weeks later

Time is a fickle thing. Some days it seems to rush by while others it seems to just stand still and turn stagnant.

After finding out that the Winchesters had left town, I turned my attention back to my studies. I only had a few more months until I'd be graduating high school and moving on to bigger, brighter things.

Thanksgiving had come and gone and now we are all hurtling toward Christmas and the almost two weeks off from school. The whole school is abuzz with excitement and enthusiasm for the break. Me? I am just going through the motions. I had gotten ill a few days ago, puking my guts up and just feeling horrible. Whatever it is, I wish it would just run its course already. I am tired of feeling weak and feeble.

Today is the school's last day before Christmas break and I was just looking forward to being able to lay around and let the flu or pneumonia or whatever gets its claws into me. Something grabs my attention and I look at the calendar hanging beside my desk. A big old red circle is around the 4th, the day I should've started my period. I grab the calendar and turn it back to November and see another big red circle. Two months. Two missed periods. And I know that they are missed because every time I start I always draw a line through the circle and these two circles have no lines. What the hell? I try to remember having my period in November but I am coming up blank. The last period I remember was in October, the first part of October. I remember because it was right after my Mom's birthday. I turn the page and yep, October 5th has a circle with a line through it. So why didn't I mark through November's and December's? I scan through the month of October and my eyes land on the 14th.

The day I spent with the Winchesters, the day I lost my virginity to Dean, the day that…..oh fuck. Oh god no!

At school, I can’t concentrate on anything. My calculus teacher calls on me and I don’t hear her. The words ‘I’m pregnant’ keep repeating over and over in my head. I can’t be pregnant. I only had sex once. But once is all it takes, I tell myself.

I get through the rest of the day, barely, and by the time the last bell rings I am a nervous wreck. I know what I need to do. I have to go to the pharmacy and buy a test. But everyone knows everyone in this town and I know old Mrs. Wilson will tell my parents that she sold me a pregnancy test.

Walking into the drugstore I am praying and hoping that Mrs. Wilson possibly has the day off and someone else is working her shift but no such luck. As soon as I walk in she sees me and smiles. I return the smile and walk down the farthest aisle from the one I need. As I trek slowly through the store, pretending that I am looking at different things, I come up with a plan. I’ll just take one off the shelves and ask to use the bathroom.

When I get to the correct aisle I feel overwhelmed. There are so many! Different brands, different processes. I find one that looks easy enough; what is more easier than just peeing on a stick? Stuffing the box in my bag, I head toward the front of the store, grabbing a package of maxi pads on my way.

“Hello Rebecca,” Mrs. Wilson greets me. “How are you today?”

“Hi Mrs. Wilson. I’m good. Listen, is there anyway I can, uh...use the facilities here?” I ask as I show her the maxi pads. She nods in understanding and points me toward the bathroom.

I quickly shut and lock the door and lean against it, taking a breath. ‘Come on Rebecca. You can do this.’ I think to myself. ‘It might even be negative. Could be something completely different wrong with me.’

I pull the box out of my bag and step toward the toilet. I know I don’t have that much time before Mrs. Wilson comes to check on me. Pulling the test out of the box, I quickly read the directions.

1. Pee on stick

2. Wait 5 minutes.

3. Two lines means pregnant; one line means not pregnant.

Ok simple enough. I do as instructed and place the stick on the sink. This is going to be the longest five minutes in history!

How can something so inconsequential as a piece of plastic change your whole life? Plastic is nothing but synthetic polymers that can be molded into whatever is needed. In this instance, this piece of plastic was sculpted into a thin white stick with a window on the end. And in that window was life-altering news. Two pink lines.

I stare at the test for what seemed like forever. I’m pregnant. I am only a few months away from turning 18, graduating high school and going off to college. Yet, here I am carrying Dean Winchester’s illegitimate child. I place my hand on my still flat stomach and look in the mirror. “I’m pregnant,” I whisper to my reflection. I didn’t even realize I am crying until I see the tears streaming down my face.

Hearing Mrs. Wilson heading my way, I hurry and wipe my face clean and pick up the positive test, sticking it in my pocket. I open the package of pads and take one out and cram the unused one into the bottom of the trash can. At least, that way it will look like I used one and not raise any suspicions with the old busybody.

After paying for the one item I won’t be needing for a while, I leave the store and head home. How am I going to tell my parents that I’m pregnant? Of course they're going to want to know everything. Well, maybe not everything. They know how babies are made, they have me after all. But they are going to ask a million questions. Who’s the father? Where is he now? Does he know? Is he going to be a man and step up? I only know the answer to one of those. Dean Winchester is the father. That’s all I know. He used me and then up and disappeared the very next day.

I get home and am relieved that both my parents aren’t home yet. I have a few more minutes to come to terms with the fact of my situation myself. I run upstairs to my room and fall onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow. While I am alone, I decide to go ahead and get it out. The anger, the frustration, the heartache.

I am 17 years old, a senior in high school and pregnant by a boy who split in no time afterwards. The tears come instantaneously. How am I going to be able to fulfill my dream of going to college and becoming a psychologist? I can’t be raising a kid while going through years of study at Harvard to get my bachelor’s plus an internship. By the time I’d be done with all that my child is going to be at least 10 years old.

Damn him! Damn him and his boyish charms and his mesmerizing green eyes and his sexy as hell body.

“Damn you Dean Winchester! I hate you. I wish I’d never met you,” I scream into the fluffy cushion. “I hope wherever you are that your dick falls off and you can’t do this to some other poor girl!”

Fuck, is all I can think. How many girls had he done this to? How many illegitimate babies did he have? He had said his family traveled a lot so there were probably girls all over who were pregnant or had bared his offspring.

"Fuck," I sigh. "If I get an STD because of him I'll hunt him down and kill him," I growled. I begin punching the pillow, pretending it is Dean’s face. I can’t believe him. How dare he take advantage of me like that!

But then I realize, he didn’t take advantage; I clearly gave him exactly what he wanted. ‘Dumbass! I am such a dumbass. I walked right into his trap and didn’t even understand what I was getting into. I was so dumbfounded and surprised that he wanted to talk to and hang out with me that I just followed him along like a lost puppy. And then I gave him the one thing that I could never get back. All because of a few words and some attention. How much of an idiot am I?’

Shaking my head at my stupidity I head to the bathroom to clean off my face and get prepared to confess to my parents. They are going to be so disappointed in me. It’s going to break their hearts. I’ve been talking about going to Harvard and becoming a psychologist since I was in middle school and now that is just a pipe dream. It won’t ever come true now.

I don’t have much of an appetite so I just push my food around on my plate. I feel bad about it because Mom had rushed home from work and went straight to cooking and now my stomach is all twisted up and I can’t eat. It looks like they are about to be finished with their dinner so I decided no better time than the present.

“Mom? Dad?” I begin. “We need to talk.”

“What is it sweetie?” My dad says as he gets up to put his plate in the sink. “Did you get a C in class or something?” he turns back to the table with a jesting grin on his face. “You know you don’t have to be completely perfect in everything.”

Mom and Dad have been telling me for years that I was pushing myself too hard. That it doesn't matter to them if I get straight A’s or not as long as I don’t fail. But I wanted to prove to them, and myself, that I could. And so far I had; I am only a few credits shy of graduating high school with honors.

“Oh, I’m not perfect,” I tell him, looking down at my hands in my lap. “Far from it actually. I-uh-I have some not so good news. You might even call it upsetting news.”

My parents both look at me, perplexed. Mom speaks up first, “What is it Rebecca? Are you dying? Do you have cancer or something?”

Leave it up to Mom to think about a worse-case scenerio. Of course in her mind, the most distressing would be that I only had a few months to live. Which, in this case, it’s kinda true. A few more months and life as I know it is over.

I pull the positive pregnancy test out of my hoodie pocket and lay it in the middle of the table. Clear as day, anyone can see what it is. My dad suddenly sits down and puts his head in his hands and Mom…well, Mom stands up, looks at me with pity and walks out of the dining room. A few minutes later, I hear their bedroom door slam shut.

The commotion brings Dad out of his stupor and he looks up at me. “How did this happen, Rebecca?” I quirk an eyebrow at him at the absurdity of his question. “I mean, I know how it happened. When?”

“Back in October. I hung out with this guy and his little brother and we watched a movie and ate pizza and popcorn. After the movie was over, his brother wanted to go to the arcade and it left me and Dean in the room, alone. One thing just led to another.” I finish with a shrug of my shoulders.

And just like I assumed, Dad begins badgering me with questions. “Who is he? Does he know about the baby yet? Is he going to step up and take care of it and you?”

I sigh before I answer. “His name is Dean. Dean Winchester. No, he doesn’t know and probably never will. He and his brother were staying in the motel across town while their dad was working. He’s gone now. Left the day after. I don’t know how to get in touch with him.”

Dad and I sat there in silence after I told him about Dean and how he was no longer around. I can see the steps of processing Dad is going through on his face. At first he is angry, livid even. Then he is just mad. But what breaks my heart is when my dad looks at me and all I can see is disappointment.

I feel like such a failure. I failed my parents and myself the moment I allowed Dean to come into my life. The moment I had sex with him.

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @spnbaby-67 @tftumblin @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @deanwanddamons @supraveng @deandreamernp @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @markofdean79 @travelingriversideblues-x @akshi8278 @keymology @natura1phenomenon @drakelover78

#dean winchester #john winchester #sam winchester #wounded hearts #past haunts sequel #rebecca quentin #smut #fluff #angst #dean x becka #high school

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rosethreeart · 3 years ago

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You... you were shown live footage of the crash? I was in 3rd grade when it happened, and the teacher, after being quietly informed of what just happened, did her best not to let any of us know what had happened or still happening since flight 93 hadn't crashed yet iirc (I'm probably not, but like I said, the teacher didn't tell us anything). Maybe it's because I lived in a military town back then, so the teachers were all very aware some of us might have family or family friends in the Pentagon when it was hit or that some of our family members would be called to a war many were sure would be ordered despite everyone really not wanting one, even when keeping the attack in mind. We've even gotten to hear from the spouse of one of the passengers that was on flight 93, so idk showing kids live footage? It sounds almost insensitive to me. More propaganda, less remembering innocent lives being lost and overshadowed by the spike of nationalism that followed..

I applaud your teacher for not letting any of you watch it live

Yeah we were 💀

I have a vivid and distinct memory of me sitting in my elementary (5th grade at most) class and watching a scene where a man jump out of the building. I can remember the exact suit he wore and tie, the position he was falling in and people screaming in the background and stuff honestly the first thing I think of when I hear “9/11”

Oh yeah it’s 100% part of their propaganda the most we did to “remember and grieve” these people was to take a moment of silence

#9/11 tw #if it wasn’t live footage it was a very uncensored documentary

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mojowriterblog · 3 years ago

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The Tracks

We were boys trying to fathom the mysteries of women.

Summer morning, and I’d awaken and jump out of my bed, eat a bunch of sugary cereal, and then jam on down the street toward the train tracks to meet my friends. I had a Stingray bike with a tiny front tire, a banana seat, and a tall sissy bar. 5-speed, straight shift. Front wheel had a drum brake like a motorcycle.

The bike was “boss.” It “burned rubber.”

I’d race down the dirt of the levy road, dodging shadows and fallen branches, then leap over a mound of dirt and rumble down a rocky trail to the tracks. Turning north I’d follow the tracks to the second bridge where the creek was wide and deep. Usually I was the first one there, but not every time.

Randy would show up, sometimes with his neighbor Philip. Sometimes Larry would be there. Other friends came and went; I don’t even remember their names. All us boys were in-between the 4th and 5th grades. Lizard hunters, proto-motocross riders. Creek swimmers. Train challengers.

This was the lost Tom Sawyer boyhood of my youth.

The railroad bridge was a quiet place. Overgrown with trees and brush, the creek ran gurgling at a good pace. There were mini-rapids both upstream and downstream, but right around the oily, wooden bridge supports it was almost a pond. Deep enough to swim in, and if I stood it would come up to my neck. Because of broken glass, swimming with shoes was mandatory.

There were always new things to see or find. We’d catch at least one snake a day, but rarely do anything besides hold it for a while then let it go again. Only exceptionally cool snakes would be taken home so that they could escape and scare the bejeezes out of our moms. But there were also alligator lizards, and skinks (with really pretty red or blue tails), dozens of bluebellies, massive bullfrogs, and the occasional swimming turtle. They had the tendency to bite, though.

The really fun stuff was more dangerous. One of our favorites was to jump our bikes into the water. I only did this when I brought my second “junk” bike out. We would zoom down the short hill from the tracks, up a big lump of dirt, and fly 15 feet through the air and into the creek. Another favorite was to huddle under the bridge as a train went by. There was talk of actually lying down the middle of the track and have the train go right over us, but thank God no one actually tried it.

Then one day we found the hiding place of a genuine railroad hobo. Abandoned during the day, apparently this hobo returned at night to sleep in a corrugated metal pipe that ran under the tracks. There was clothes, cans of food, bottles of water, blankets, and a pile of really nasty, dirty magazines. They weren’t like our dad’s Playboy magazines. They were lurid and sleazy; wide open and shocking. We were fascinated, like deer unable to look away from oncoming headlights.

We didn’t know what to do with this forbidden treasure. We were afraid if we simply left it, it would disappear. But no one would dare take it home. We could all imagine the nightmare of it being found. So it was decided we had to find a new hiding place for it.

We searched the surrounding area for a likely place. There were piles of old railroad ties, and boards under grass, and areas where there were piles of concrete. We were surrounded by farmland, and we found what we thought was a perfect place: another corrugated metal pipe on the other side of a barbed wire fence, right below a small tree. It was perfect. It was about a foot wide and hidden by tall grass.

The next day we came out and yes, the treasure was still there. We’d all pour over it, joke about it, ask each other question which none of us truly knew the answer (though it didn’t stop us from bluffing and stating our guesses as fact). We were boys trying to fathom the mysteries of women. We were trying to integrate our knowledge of our mothers, sisters, and girls next door with what we’d learned from the dirty magazines. It was difficult and ultimately frightening.

I think we were all a bit relieved when several days later we came out to find the pipe holding our forbidden treasure was under water. As it turned out, the field was a rice field, and the farmer had come and turned the valve, flooding the area with water from the creek. The water had carried the magazines out into the acres of rice paddies and they were obviously ruined and lost. Our only consolation was that the next day we were treated to the joyous show of a biplane flying right over our heads, dropping sprouts into the fields of water. The daring of the pilot earned our undying admiration, especially after he waved at us from about ten feet off the ground.

After that it was back to normal at the bridge. Snakes, lizards, bicycles, and swimming. Seeing how long we could stand on the train tracks while a train bore down on us. Stupid boy things like that. I’m sure we spent the whole summer out there, but when school started again and the weather grew colder, the place wasn’t as much fun. Things changed, bulldozers pushed things around, and the old wooden railroad bridge was replaced by a new, modern, concrete one. And for some reason they cut down all the surrounding trees.

It was over. The next summer the tracks didn’t hold the same magic, and it took many years to find a place like that again. By that time I was a teenager in a different crowd of friends, and girls were involved, and there was not much innocence left. People had jobs and responsibilities. Car payments had to be made. It was different.

Like Tom Sawyer, we were doomed to grow up.

#true story #childhood #train tracks #trans #growing up

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latenightxtalking · 3 years ago

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lost my innocence to percabeth smut in 5th grade 😭😰😰. never been the same im still sick af

I've never read Percabeth smut. I refuse lmao

#migraine anon #but also could be cheer anon #???#pjo ask

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ms-rampage · 4 years ago

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Eden’s Gate: Left Behind Chapter 16 - This Life

Warnings: Swearing, birthday sex, oral (female reciving)

Word count: 2.9k

Summary: Time flies by, John and Kate continue their relationship, Kate’s birthday and earning her degree.

Guest OCs: Paige Winchester [mentioned] Kenneth Smith [mentioned]

Guest characters: Chuck/God [mentioned], Archangel Gabriel [mentioned], Castiel [mentioned].

Note: Chapter 2 of The Mother will be posted soon!!!!!

**************************

“You’re okay. You’re okay” John says, holding Kate in his arms. Stroking her hair.

“What-what- what happened?!?” she wheezes out.

“You were dead!!” Morgan tells her.

She looks at her confused, “Maybe that's why I saw my dad” she says.

“What?!” John asks while looking at her confused.

“Your dad?” Morgan questions.

“My dad. I saw him, and I spoke with him” she tells them.

“Isn’t your dad dead?” Morgan asks, eyebrows raised.

Kate nods, “Yeah but I saw him. On the other side!”.

Morgan, and John look at each other in confusion, “You mean Heaven?!?” he asks.

“Plane of existence actually” she says, in a matter of fact tone.

“Okay, you really need to get some rest. You spent the last hour dead, and you lost way too much oxygen in that noggin of yours” Morgan says.

They help Kate stand up, and they take her to her room to lay down.

After helping her, Morgan leaves the room, leaving John and Kate alone together.

He lays next to her on the bed. He sighs, and says to her “I read that brown leathery notebook”.

She looks up at him, “What?!”.

“That notebook, the brown journal” he says, pointing to the bookshelf.

She sits up, and asks “What did you read from it?”.

He looks at her, “A little too much about you, and your family”.

Looking down at her hands, “Yep, that's my whole life, and before I was born written in that notebook by my dad”.

John gets up from the bed, grabs the notebook from the shelf, and sits back down on the bed.

“My dad wrote this before my sister was even born. Every hunt he went on with his brother, or with an old friend, or any other relative, or friend. It’s all written in here”

She flips through the pages on the book, and sees the photo of her and Paige.

“I saw that photo earlier” John says while resting his head on her shoulder.

Kate chuckles, “I think I was 2 months old? A month in a half?. Maybe?”.

“I believe so” he says and looks over at her, “Sasha”.

She looks up from the notebook, and looks over the imaginary camera in her room.

“What?!” she asks, acting like she doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

He smirks at her, “Sasha Georgia Winchester”

She looks over at him with wide eyes.

“That was supposed to be your name” he says chuckling, padding her hand.

“Where did you find that info?!?’ she asks looking away from him.

He cocks his eyebrows at her, “From the notebook of course” he says sarcastically.

“Sasha Georgia?. That name wouldn’t have suited you” he adds, sighing.

“Yeah I know. Katella Evyanna doesn’t suit me either” she says, looking down at the photo.

“Yes. It does” he says, disagreeing with her opinion, “It goes perfectly with you” he kisses the side of her head.

Kate sighs, “If I had to choose my name, or if I wanted to change it, my name would be either Jenna, Saraya, Katherine, Daenerys, or Lacey”.

“If you were my daughter I would’ve named you Allison, Samantha, or Isabella” he tells her.

Kate smiles, “If I had a daughter I would name her Daenerys, Saraya, or Arya”.

“What kind of name is Daenerys?!” he asks, mispronouncing the name. Saying it as Dee-nay-ers.

“Day-nair-es. It’s the name of a character from my favorite tv show, Game of Thrones. She has bleach blonde hair that's in beautiful well done braids, and she has 3 dragons. She’s the Mother of Dragons”

“I’ve never seen it” he says, sitting back in her bed.

“It’s a great show. I love it, season 1 of course is like watching porn” she says, making John chuckle.

“One scene some guy is getting his head cut off, and the next scene is some girl is getting fucked in the ass” she adds, laughing a little.

John chuckles again, and says in a lustful tone “What are you suggesting?” as he moves closer to her. His hand moving up her back.

“I’m suggesting” she says, moving closer to him, “That we watch Game of Thrones”.

“Or we can do something else, while that plays in the background” he says, placing his hand on her thigh.

Kate lets out a soft giggle, placing her hand over John’s, rubbing it gently.

He starts to nibble at her neck, then turns into light biting, then kissing.

Kate moans softly at this, lifting her head to give him better access.

“You know I can hear you right?!?!!” Morgan yells out from the living room.

Making John stop for a moment, and Kate lets out a loud laugh.

*******************************************

Several months later, John and Kate are still together, after everything that had happened she had Castiel wipe John’s memories of Saleos possessing him, and everything that Kate had told him about demons, ghosts and everything related to what happened.

But his memories of that can be restored if Kate, and Kate only were to bring it up to him.

It’s August 5th, and it’s also Kate’s birthday, she is now 20 years old and is 1 week away from earning her Masters of Science degree in Psychology.

There was supposed to be a graduation ceremony, but with the Cult terrorizing the town, all the students who are graduating were to be given their degrees handed to them, or mailed to their residence.

She’s surprised she was able to keep her grades up for all 8 of her classes, and managed to keep her job. All at the same time.

Especially with her personal life going into the shitter. Well more like Hell.

Her friends getting attacked by demons, her boyfriend getting possessed by a demon, forcefully being atone for her sins, exorcising the demon from her boyfriend, working cases, getting involved with a Cult, being dead for a whole hour, and meeting her dead father for the first time in her life.

Yep, that’s the life of a Winchester, and it couldn’t be any weirder. Fuck it, it can be if Chuck wanted it to be, or maybe let Gabriel make it weird for him.

To her surprise Kate got a call from her older sister Paige, whom she hadn’t heard from in months. She wished her a happy birthday, and mentioned that her and Kenneth are getting married in April of that following year.

In regards to her birthday, John wanted Kate’s birthday to be special.

He went the extra mile to make it a private ceremony/party for him and her.

Not really an extra mile, but fuck it. He loves her, and it’s her birthday and she earned her degree for being a Doctor.

Even though she doesn’t have her Doctorate Degree, and she’s technically not a Doctor yet, that's her next step.

John hired professional chefs to make them dinner, and dessert.

He surprised her with expensive gifts. Expensive clothes, jewelry, shoes, and other miscellaneous items.

After dinner, and moving on to dessert.

The chefs brought out a 3 layer red velvet cake with vanilla buttercream frosting, Kate’s favorite. She's not much of a chocolate fan.

Halfway towards the end of dessert when the chefs cleaned up and left, leaving John and Kate alone.

That’s when he gives her his birthday gift.

He lifts her up, grabbing her ass, and lays her down on the kitchen counter.

His hand creeping up her dress, the other reaching over to the cake, and grabs a piece of it.

Having her lick the frosting off his fingers. Pushing them into her mouth.

“Happy birthday darlin” he says, as she licks his fingers clean. Sucking on them.

“Thank you” she moans, as he moves his hand away from her mouth.

He undoes his pants, and slowly removes her panties. Her bare ass touching the cold kitchen counter. He lifts her dress up, and rams his cock in her tight cunt. She cries out in pleasure, arching her back up.

His hands holding her hips in place, he moves them up so he’s pinning her hands down.

Attacking her neck with kisses, and bites as he thrusts in and out of her.

He lifts her up with one arm, and unzips her red dress from behind with the other.

Slowly moving the straps down, kissing her exposed soft skin.

He removes her dress completely, dropping it to the floor, leaving her completely naked on his kitchen counter. Admiring her amazing body, licking his lips, the feral lust growing in his eyes.

John takes off his shirt, tossing it on the floor. Kissing her stomach, and curves. His fingers tracing the Lust scar on her chest.

“You’re so beautiful” he moans in between kisses, “So exquisite. You’re so perfect. You belong to me”.

His hands covering her breasts, kneading them as he moves down to her nether regions.

Her breath shaking as he kisses her inner thighs, her fingers running through his hair.

Slowly spreading her legs open, kissing her wet core. His body holding her legs open.

His beard tickling her thighs. He gives her a long, hard lick to her wetness.

Making her moan loudly, her stomach in knots.

“J-John” she whimpers.

“Hmm?” he hums as a response.

“I want you. Please” she moans, “Please touch me”.

He lifts his head up from her legs, their faces inches away from each other.

“It’s your birthday. What do you want?” he whispers into her ear. His hot breath giving her goosebumps.

“Fuck me. Please, fuck me” she begs him. Feeling her eyes getting watery.

He smirks at her, finding her pleads for him to fuck her adorable.

“Anything in particular?” he whispers in a teasing manner, while moving her hair away from her face.

“Anything” she whimpers again. Her eyes looking so innocent, pleading him to fuck her.

He chuckles, moving her hair away from her face.

“You’re gonna be sore once I’m done with you” he chuckles, his voice filled with malicious yet lustful intentions.

He pulls her closer to him. Her bare ass dragging along the cold, marble counter.

He shoves his cock in her, fucking her so hard and so fast that she felt herself piss a little.

Like he punched her in the vagina with his dick.

Immediately hitting her G-spot over, and over again.

His movements are so fast that she can barely keep up with his pace.

She couldn’t make any sounds because it took her by surprise, all she can do is look up at him, her mouth dropped open. Tears leaving her eye canals.

All of her moans, and screams trapped in her throat.

John’s grunting grows louder, and louder by the second. Not once did he slow down, he practically fucked the wind out of Kate.

She closes her eyes as he fucks her senseless, tears streaming down her face, his hands gripping her thighs move up to her chest.

His mouth latches onto her right nipple, still keeping his fast pace.

Wrapping his arms around her as his mouth plays with his nipples.

“John” she moans, her fingers tangled in his hair, “John”.

He moans in response, tugging, and sucking at her nipples.

“I love you” she moans, not realizing what she just said.

He stops, her nipple in his mouth, he lifts his head from her breasts, and moves up to face her.

Those perfect blue eyes staring down at her brown eyes.

He looks her in the eyes, and says “I love you too”.

She smiles in response, tears streaming down her cheeks, wraps her arms around his neck, and kisses him deeply.

His soft lips crashing against hers. Forcing his tongue into her mouth, wrestling with hers.

“I love you so much” he moans against her lips.

John wraps his arms around her, sitting her up on the counter.

He rests his forehead against hers, both of them out of breath.

“You love me?” he asks, breathing heavily. His arms wrapped around her.

“Yes” she responds, “I love you”.

Trying to hold back his tears, “Say it again” he whispers, voice raspy.

Kate smiles, “I love you John”. Running her hand through his beard.

Biting his lip to keep the tears from falling, “One more time”.

“I love you John Seed” she says again.

“I love you too Kate Winchester” he says, looking into her eyes.

He pulls in her for another deep passionate kiss, lifts her up off the kitchen counter, and bridal carries her upstairs to his bedroom. All while kissing her, like it was their wedding day.

He drops her onto the bed, and he immediately starts to make love to her.

Crashing his lips against hers. Desperate, and hungry for her, needing to be inside her. His hands tangled in her hair. His body pressed against hers, pinning her to the mattress.

Kate wraps her legs around his waist pulling him closer to her, begging for him to be inside her.

He pulls away, looking down at her while he thrusts in and out of her.

Watching her facial reactions as he fucks her.

He places his left hand around her throat, making sure it’s not too tight. She lets out a loud pitchy moan, “Oh John”.

Burying his face in the crook of her neck, biting at it.

Moaning into her ear, “You were made for me. Your body knows how much you want me. Only I can make you feel this way, only I can make you feel this good”.

Moaning loudly into her ear, his breath giving her goosebumps.

Kate feels his cock twitch inside her, and she prepares herself for his ejecutlation in her.

He stops, slowly pulls out of her and sits on her chest. His knees on either side of her head.

His dick right in her face, just barely touching her nose.

She immediately knows what he wants, and she wants to hear him say it.

“You did a great job before” he says, biting his lip, "You know what to do".

She takes a look at his cock, it's hard, pre-cum dripping out, and well trimmed like he planned all of this.

Taking all of him in her mouth, his right hand holding her head. He lets out a loud raspy moan, thrusting himself in her mouth.

Pulling her head forward, making sure to get every inch of himself in her mouth.

Making her gag. His raspy moaning echoing off the walls as Kate sucks, and swirls her tongue around his cock.

The tip reaching back of her throat, making her gag once again.

He hisses as her tongue sucks along the vein.

Her hands creep down from his sides down to his balls.

Moaning her name several times in less than a minute that's how she knows he’s close.

Rocking his hips forward, fucking her throat.

She feels his cock twitch against her tongue as she sucks on it, and he holds her head in place.

Releasing his load into her mouth, down her throat.

He pulls himself out of her mouth, leaving drips of cum on her chin and chest.

“Since it’s your birthday” he pants, looking down at her all sweaty, out of breath, and God she finds it so fucking hot.

Moving his wet hair away from his sweaty face.

The sweat shining off his toned, tatted and scarred up body.

“On your hands and knees” he orders her.

Kate does as she's told, and lays on her stomach with her ass in the air.

John positions himself behind her. Normally he would finger her, stretch her out a little but he wants her now, and doesn’t have the patience to tease her. His cock brushing her wet entrance.

He forces his cock into her tight cunt, digging his nails into her hips.

She cries out, moaning loudly at his sudden penetration.

“Ohh darlin you’re so tight” he moans, picking up the pace.

His cock deep inside her. Making her scream, moan and beg for him.

“John, fuck, John” she cries out, “Fuck me, shit fuck me”.

This is how John imagined it. How he imagined life with Kate.

Her being his wife, the mother to his kids. Seeing this view whenever they have sex.

The sight before him, Kate on her hands and knees with his cock buried deep inside her pussy, made him fuck her even harder.

His faster, harder pace makes Kate go into tears.

“Fuck, fuck” he grunts as his movements speed up. His nails digging into her flesh.

Joseph was right. He was right about everything. He didn’t want to lose Kate, he loves her, and she loves him.

They were meant to be together, when the Collapse happens everything will be in motion.

That’s when they make the next generation of the Winchester, Seed family.

Going to the gates of Eden with Kate as his wife, and their children.

Lost in his thoughts, Kate cumming on his cock, and her loud moaning snaps him back into reality.

“John, John” she cries. A moaning sweaty mess underneath him.

“Good girl” he moans while rocking her hips against his.

She collapses on her side, John lays next to her. Holding her close in his arms.

“Best birthday ever” she says out of breath, before falling asleep.

He chuckles, and kisses her temple.

Falls asleep with her in his arms. Holding her close to him.

#far cry 5 #john seed #kate winchester #fc5 john seed #my oc kate winchester #my writings #my ocs #the seed family #fc5 #my oc morgan costello #john seed x kate winchester #john seed x oc #john seed x oc kate winchester #my far cry 5 ocs #joseph seed #my crossovers #my crossover shit #supernatural references #spn reference

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soupyboysforlife · 4 years ago

Text

The Little Angel

Summarry: An AU where Dean transfers to Castiel’s school. They quickly fall in love with each other but keep those feelings hidden out of fear that they won’t be reciprocated. Dean winds up in a terrible accident and goes into a comatose state in which Cas cares for him anonymously.

This fic was inspired by the song Class Clown by Anthony Amorim.

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Chapter 1

An attractive boy with black hair sat in the back corner of the semi-crowded class. He was staring out a nearby window. There was a look of disinterest shrouded on his slightly stubbly face. He was the first thing Dean noticed as he walked into the noisy and crowded class. Some students looked his way when he entered the classroom. The teacher cleared his throat to introduce the new student. They quickly silenced, turning to the front to face the pair. Dean was nervous but he smiled at them confidently. He was used to moving around and going to new schools. Dean’s gaze wandered over the other students before returning to the attractive boy who hadn’t bothered looking towards the front.

“Everyone I’d like you to meet Dean Winchester,” the teacher said, gesturing towards Dean, “Please take a seat.”

Dean sat in the empty seat in front of the boy hoping to strike up a conversation. Before he got the chance some other kids by him started to introduce themselves. Dean introduced himself to them.

Castiel’s morning had been uneventful as usual. He didn’t have any friends in his first-class today. Instead of gossiping about the new kid, he stared out the window listening to the hushed whispers of girls debating about what he would look like. Cas finally glanced at the front of the classroom when Mr. Shurley cleared his throat. By his side was a boy. His eyes were scanning the students. Cas looked back out the window. Sure the boy was cute but Cas had no intention of talking to him. Not at the moment at least.

Mr. Shurley introduced him, “Everyone I’d like you to meet Dean Winchester. Please take a seat.”

The name registered in the back of Cas’s head just in case he needed to know it. Cas only moved when Dean sat down in front of him. He looked at him in surprise. There were a lot of other empty seats in the classroom. He dismissed the thought creeping up in his head. Cas’s heart was beating quickly.

After Dean was done talking to the other people in front of him he turned around and smiled.

He was even cuter up close. Cas tried his hardest not to blush, though he was sure some of the heat made it to his cheeks. Dean had beautiful green eyes that were crinkled with his perfect smile. His cheek and jawbones were sharp. There was a light sprinkle of freckles brushing his face.

“Hi, I’m Dean,” he said, reaching out his hand for a handshake.

“I know. I’m Castiel.” Cas responded as he gingerly shook the other boy’s hand. Sparks. He must have imagined that.

“Castiel, huh? Weird name” Dean said with a slightly confused look on his face.

“Yeah, like the angel. My family’s religious.” Cas shrugged.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Cas.” Dean said with a wink before turning back to the front of the class as Mr. Shurley began the lesson.

Cas was sure his face was as red as a tomato. He spaced out for the rest of the day, thinking of the green eyes and calloused skin that belonged to the new kid.

And so the crush began.

“Cas’’ a whisper.

That smile.

“Cas.” slightly louder.

Those green eyes.

“Cas!” a yell, this time he was being shaken.

Cas had been lost in his thoughts of Dean Winchester. He finally snapped back to reality. Gabriel, Castiel’s best friend, was shaking his arm.

“Dude, you okay? What’s wrong?” Gabe asked.

“N-nothing.” Cas managed to get out.

“Is it the new kid? Did he hurt you?” Gabe interrogated, this time with a look of concern and rage.

“No! Nothing like that.” Castiel assured him. It had been a couple of weeks since Dean had transferred to their school. He’d started a few weeks after the second semester began. Cas had noticed the air getting warmer. Spring was on its way along, bringing along Promposals and a new set of gossip.

“Well, what the-” Gabriel started, his face quickly changed from confusion to realization, “Ooooh. You like him.”

Cas’s only response was his face turning a light pink. Gabriel and most other students at Heaven’s Gates High had known that the blue-eyed boy was gay for years. His sexuality wasn’t a secret. Luckily, no one seemed to care about it.

“D’aw, you two would make the cutest couple.” Gabe teased, earning a glare from Cas, “You should ask him to prom.”

Somehow that thought made Castiel’s face impossibly redder. He glanced over to where Dean was sitting with some of the school jocks. He was laughing at a joke one of them made. Dean made eye contact, making Cas look away quickly. Heat radiated from his cheeks as he felt the green eyes staring at him. Instead of looking back he turned to Gabe and leaned his head on the table.

“I can’t. He’s probably straight, even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t be interested in me.” Cas sighed sadly.

“Don’t beat yourself up, Cas. I’m sure he’d like you if he wasn’t straight. Hell, I would like you if I was gay.” Gabriel stated with complete confidence, making Castiel chuckle.

“Thanks, I think,” Cas answered.

“Anytime,” Gabe reassured him.

That conversation helped Cas get through the rest of the day with a relatively peaceful mindset.

It had been a few weeks since Dean had started at the new high school. He was already pretty popular, though he doubted that he’d be able to maintain the popularity for much longer. That’s how it has been so far in his high school career. This was his, 4th? Maybe 5th high school. Luckily, this was his senior year and he wouldn’t have to worry about school much longer. His plan was to pass high school and carry on the family business.

Dean’s thoughts made their way back to the group of jocks he was sitting with. Dean was relatively good at football. He had just joined the school's team and was now attempting to bond with some of the players. One of them, Benny, had just made a joke. Dean hadn’t been paying attention to it but he laughed anyway.

He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. Sensing a pair of eyes watching him, he quickly scanned the lunchroom. He quickly found the source. It was Castiel, the cute boy from his pre-calc class. Dean quickly decided to take a shot at flirting from a distance, but the other boy had already looked away. Dean’s face fell a little. He sat, staring in disappointment for a moment longer, hoping the blue-eyed boy would look at him again. When he didn’t Dean rejoined his teammates’ conversation with an awkward chuckle.

Lunch was over too quickly but he only had one more class for the day.

Dean never paid attention in Economics. It had to be the most boring class that he had. Lucky for him it wasn’t hard to distract himself from the seemingly eternal boringness of the class. His eyes dragged across the board at the front of the room. They picked out every small detail, eventually coming to a stop at the date on the edge of the board. Wednesday, February 12th. Two more days before the weekend. He sighed in defeat. The only thing he had to look forward to was pre-calc in the morning. Dean’s mind wandered to the handsome boy who sat behind him.

A smile crept along Dean’s face as he thought of the details on the boy's face. How he turned pink when they saw each other.

Dean imagined cornering the smaller boy, trapping him between Dean’s body and the wall. He pictured those perfect blue eyes staring up at him innocently as he leaned down and pressed his lips against the plump, pink ones. Moistening the chapped lips with his tongue. Maybe he’d run his hands along the boy’s hips and back. Kissing the scruff along his jaw and neck. Fingers slowly exploring every nook and cranny of-

Fuck

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He took a few deep breaths. His mind searched for other things to think about.

Dean heard the chair behind him squeak over the monotone script of his teacher.

“Hey, Dean.” a low voice said behind him with a nudge to his shoulder, “You going to Adam’s party?”

He turned his eyes and head slightly to put a name to the voice. It was Kevin.

“Dunno man, when is it?” Dean responded.

“This weekend. You gotta ride?”

“Yeah man, text me the address,” Dean said. Maybe he’d be able to pick up a chick or two to take his mind off the blue-eyed boy for a while. Dean’s cell phone pinged with the texted address.

“Thanks.” Dean smiled.

The next day Dean stumbled, tiredly, into his pre-calc class. Usually, he didn’t arrive so early but his Dad had an early meeting and a busted tire, so he and his little brother, Sammy, were dropped off at school early. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. Finally noticing how empty the room was. The only people there were Castiel and Mr. Shurley. Cas was at his desk using his hands as a pillow. While Mr. Shurley graded some papers.

“You’re here early, Mr. Winchester.” the older man commented without looking up from his papers.

“Uh, yeah. My dad had an early meeting and had to borrow my car.” Dean responded with a chuckle.

This time Mr. Shurely looked up from the paper and folded his hands before answering. “I don’t recall asking. Now have a seat. I need to finish grading these.” He gestured towards Dean’s desk before going back to his writing. He made his way to the desk in front of the boy.

Cas still had his head resting on his hands. Upon closer inspection, Dean realized he was asleep. Cas’s back was rising and falling steadily under the large, blue-grey sweatshirt he was wearing. Dean leaned a little over his desk while putting his bag down to look at Castiel’s face. His usually blue eyes were closed gently. His long lashes reached for the bags resting under them. Dean’s eyes wandered down towards the man's plump, chapped lips. They were slightly parted. A small trickle of drool ran out from between them, getting caught in the light stubble on his jaw before trickling onto the back of his hand. A light snore emitted from the parted lips with every breath.

Dean smiled and let out a small chuckle at the sight. He had to force down the temptation to reach out and wipe away the spittle. Dean’s chair creaked loudly when he sat down making him wince. Castiel immediately sat up. His ocean blue eyes looked dazed from sleep. They stared directly at Dean for a while, not fully registering what was happening. Dean felt his face start to heat up as he tried to hold back a laugh. Cas made a sudden gasp of realization. His eyes cleared and widened as his cheeks began to turn pink. He wiped the drool from his cheek and ran out of the classroom.

Dean sat, unmoved, at his desk. Wondering if that actually happened. He chuckled to himself as he thought of the other boy’s messy bedhead and dazed out, sleepy face. If that wasn’t relatable he wasn’t sure what was.

Mr. Shurley let out a ‘tsk’ of annoyance as Castiel ran out of the room. Dean stooped down and unzipped the front pocket of his bag, grabbing some cash from it before zipping it back up. He stood and walked out the door. Dean tugged on the bottom of his ridden up T-shirt as he wandered down the hall to the Cafeteria. His eyes quickly scanned the lunchroom in search of some kind of vending machine. He finally spotted one and bought two Gatorades. One was purple, the other light blue. He wandered haphazardly around the halls, looking for Castiel. He gave up after a few minutes and went back to the classroom. It had a few more kids in it then before but it was still pretty empty. Dean looked over towards his desk. He smiled when he saw Castiel sitting in the desk behind his. Cas looked a little more cleaned up. His hair was more controlled and his eyes were more alert. The dribble remains from his nap earlier had been washed away. Upon seeing Dean his face grew red once again as he tried to sink into his seat further to hide from view. Dean chuckled. Damn, this boy was cute.

Once he reached his desk and sat down he turned around. Castiel had his long sleeves pulled up to his fingertips. He held his hands in front of his eyes in embarrassment.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” Dean teased, hoping for a reaction out of the other boy, “I got you something.”

He set down the two bottles on Cas’s desk. Cas peeked out from behind his hands curiously before reaching out and taking the purple Gatorade with a muttered thanks. He struggled to open it for a second and Dean hid his smile by taking a sip of his own Gatorade. He smacked his lips loudly and inspected the bottle, wishing they sold something stronger. They sat in silence for the rest of the class.

Stand by for part 2!

#destiel smut #destiel fluff #destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel feels #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #cas #i love these idiots #its unhealthy #i spend way too much time on this #this is a cry for help #someone love me or i might write the forever to fill the emotional void in my heart #supernatural #spn #fanfic

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