!!!-CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS-!!! UNDERAGE Prompting Post // May 1st - May 15th
This is a post for any and all UNDERAGE PROMPTS. That means all prompts with pairings where one or both is under the age of 18.
A few reminders:
1. Use your subject lines! Please start with either REQUEST or FILLED also please list the pairing and kinks.
2. Please come up with a title for your fic.
3. NO SPOILERS FOR UNAIRED EPISODES! Use space, ( Read more... )
A few reminders:
1. Use your subject lines! Please start with either REQUEST or FILLED also please list the pairing and kinks.
2. Please come up with a title for your fic.
3. NO SPOILERS FOR UNAIRED EPISODES! Use space, ( Read more... )
He somehow gets up the stairs and into his room, lets his chin drop to his chest as he stands among all the memories and knick knacks of his childhood.
The childhood he isn’t even finished with yet.
He’s a fucking kid, for Christ’s sake. How’s he gonna have a baby? Raise a baby, another person?
It just doesn’t seem real. It can’t be. He isn’t ready for this.
What can he do?
Well, he knows what he could do, but there’s no way in hell he can make himself do it. He does biology at school; he’s read every scrap of reliable information online, he knows male abortion is a lot more risky; and even if it weren’t there’s some deep-seated impulse in the back of his mind telling him that he can’t.
The thought of his parents finding out makes him wanna tear his hair out. He can’t hide this. He’s at least eleven weeks along; he’s already showing enough signs that Chris put it together in all of five minutes, his parents are bound to notice.
They’ll make him give it up.
A small sound gets ripped from him with that thought; wet and broken and loud in the otherwise silent room.
They’re gonna take his baby away from him.
He shouldn’t be thinking like this; like it’s already a person that he knows and is gonna keep and raise and lo-
He shouldn’t be thinking like this.
He can’t help it.
He’s pacing now, hands gripping at his hair but not tugging it out yet, trying to sort out any of the million terrifying possibilities in his head that all end the same way.
He can’t let them take his baby.
His feet stall mid-stride across the carpet. The thought just rose up and bobbed to the surface; buoy in water and now he can’t shake free of it.
He can’t let them take his baby.
Not letting himself really consider the consequences of what he’s about to do; he pulls the old gym bag from under his bed, starts haphazardly throwing clothes into it; random stuff from his drawers and the back of his closet; doesn't know what he's gonna need. He forces the zipper shut, looks around the room, feeling like it'll be the last time, and heads for the stupid window again.
His parents were gonna put a lock on it, but something about the way his whole body'd crumpled when they'd said it must've sparked some small amount of pity, since it grudgingly slides open when he shoves it upwards into the frame.
He climbs halfway down the tree, lets his bag fall to the ground with a muffled thump on the grass, and drops down next to it.
He’s not sure where he’s going this time, but he at least has to try and talk to Jared first.
It’s his baby too, after all.
He drops the bag at the bottom of the steps, walks up them to Jared’s front door; memories of last time running like a home movie in his head. He finally forces his arm up and knocks on the wood, then again when there’s no response other than the sound of barking dogs.
He knows Jared’s home; the lights are on, sounds of television from inside somewhere.
“Jared?” Voice so pathetic he winces. “Jared I. I need to talk to you, okay? Please?” Last word broken as he tries not to start crying again. No answer. “Please Jared, it’s important.” Forehead dropping to the door, tingle-itch of a tear down one cheek, backs of his eyes stinging.
No answer. The dogs are quiet, now.
He lets out a sigh that makes him feel so much older than sixteen, then heads down the steps and hefts his bag; stupid random-ass thought about how pregnant people aren’t supposed to do heavy lifting causing an almost-hysterical sob to burst free. He looks between his house and Jared’s; practically different worlds; and he doesn’t belong in either of them, anymore.
Just shoving one foot in front of other, he moves down the street; whole life in a ragged duffle, no destination and not a whole lotta hope.
Reply
Reply
Next part is up! <3
Reply
Reply
Reply
I'm also impressed that this is this good AND this fast :D. You're pretty awesome ♥
Reply
Reply
Reply
Thanks very much! The feedback from you guys is encouraging me to keep going! ♥
Part 12 is up!
Reply
this is just so, awe...in a sad way.
poor Jensen. Why didn't you open the door Jared. i'm not liking you so far, even though i know you're doing this for Jensen's sake.
Reply
It's a shitty situation for everyone, though Jensen's parents didn't help not telling Jensen about their agreement.
Next part is up!
Reply
Jared is standing in his hallway for what feels like the hundredth time in the last two months; bent over at the waist with one hand on his thigh and another on the wall as he heaves in air through his nose, and tries not to fling the door open and run after Jensen.
Christ, but the way his mate’d sounded had made Jared feel like he’d been stabbed; sharp pain digging into his chest and stealing his breath, every nerve and muscle in his body screaming at him to fix whatever had Jensen that upset.
Except he knows why, and there’s nothing he can do that won’t destroy whatever they have for good.
He can’t talk to Jensen. If he has to look him in his endless green eyes, tries to say anything to him; then Jared’s gonna lose whatever thin strands of control he’s barely holding onto, and the whole thing will fall apart; and then Jensen’s parents will never let him near his mate again.
That reminder doesn’t help right now. Not in the slightest.
He understands the need Jensen feels to close the gap between them; and maybe the pop psychology’s right and beta’s do feel things deeper than alphas or whatever; but why can’t he just wait - painful as it is, and fuck it’s so goddamn painful - until they can actually be together, properly and without interference. This yoyo act is just slowly killing them both.
He’s trying not to hate Jensen’s parents, he really is. That isn’t helping either.
He’s under no delusion that Jensen isn’t too young for this right now; he’s sixteen years to Jared’s twenty-eight, of course he’s too fucking young, made all the worse by the fact that they’re first time together had been during Jensen’s heat. But he loves Jensen, loves him with a frightening kind of intensity that he honestly didn’t know he was capable of; and hearing him so obviously hurting over their separation makes him feel like a failure as an alpha; as a man, as a mate, with everything he is.
As much as he wants to hate Jensen’s parents; to shove all of the blame off on them, he knows this is his fault, not theirs, and certainly not Jensen’s. He chose to let Jensen in that night, to bind them together, and then call his parents when he’d realised what he’d let himself do.
He remembers being a teenager himself; remembers his dad sitting him down when he’d first popped his knot at fifteen, and explaining that being someone’s mate was the greatest thing an alpha could ever do for another person; that giving someone that deep, primal connection was a privilege to be cherished; not a right to be demanded or abused.
He looks at what he’s done to the most beautiful, kind and sweet young man he’s ever known, and thinks his dad would probably be pretty fucking ashamed of him. He can’t say he’d disagree with him, either.
He pulls his hand back and slams it into the wall, hard enough it cracks the drywall and nearly breaks his knuckles. It doesn’t help, but the pain is something to focus on, at least.
He goes to bed and tries not to replay the sounds of Jensen crying against his front door; the utter lack of anything even resembling happiness or contentment in the beta‘s voice. He tries not to play out imaginary scenarios where he’d opened the door like the desperate, fucking shamefully selfish bastard that he is, pulled Jensen to him and done whatever it would’ve taken to soothe him. He just tries not to think at all.
Seems he’s failing on a lotta fronts, these days.
He doesn’t get another visit from Jensen for three days, and while that’s not really a long time; the finality of the way Jensen had left; how broken he’d sounded; makes him feel every minute passing, like he’s watching sand trickle through an hourglass.
That’s when the cops show up.
Reply
I'd freak out more at the cliffhangeriness of that but you're a regular updater. Breathe, self; breathe.
Oh, SO much ow here.
Reply
Reply
Christ,this is SO good.
Reply
Glad you're enjoying, next part is up!
Reply
Leave a comment