A/N Wrote a drabble story, haven’t written fics in a long time so i dunno where this will go but hey. some dark shit in this like abuse and violence so don’t read if this will affect you negatively. yeah, joji and the boys are my faves so had to write something to include joji’s song plastic taste (which you should check out defo!) enjoy! might write more if good feedback!! probs out of character neck me I’m so bad at writing omfg
also requests for the boys are open and same w prompts hit me up they’ll be in the makes after 2 days of request after ive responded ofc tagging my besto bc shes trash @soberpug
“God damnit Jake! Is there any time of day where you can’t have a tantrum?!” I screamed, flinching at the sound of cutlery and ceramic plates crashing to the floor in his clumsy, anger fuelled state. He turned quickly, fiery anger in his eyes. Storming over to me, he got close to my face and growled. The room was dimly lit, sofa covered in beer bottles and smashed glass; weed stung the room like a old friend and cd cases were lazily toppling onto the floor from the broken shelf. The TV buzzed the classic, grainy, black and white as his voice poisoned my thoughts. The only thing that had stayed perfect was the photograph of me, Joji, Max, Chad and Ian on my 21st birthday. That day was amazi-
“Maybe if you weren’t such a brat this wouldn’t of happened! Telling Jane to fuck off for no reason!” He yelled, spit flaking in my face and a vein pulsing in his neck. Tears dribbled from my eyes and I just rubbed my temples. Joji and the boys had never liked Jake, I couldn’t see why until now. The warnings they had gave him and the suspicions they had spilled to me didn’t make sense. “I did fuck all wrong Jake, you were practically wrapping her around you for fuck sake, were you gonna fuck her Jake, huh?!” I grimaced at the memory of the red head’s hips pretty much grinding against Jake’s; why on Earth was he acting like this?!
I can do this face to face
“You’re a stupid slag, you know that!” He spat violently, avoiding the question entirely. A pang of hurt and disgust hit my stomach like a car smashing against a building. This wasn’t love, this was a stupid mistake in college wrapped around obsession and loneliness. Silent, so fucking silent I still prayed he stepped in with a word of “I didn’t mean that, I love you”.
I looked into his eyes, those green eyes. Just green. The descriptive techniques I used to use to describe his eyes were gone, all the love and thought to boost his confidence and remind him how beautiful he was to me was gone. They were just green. “Jake I’m going, keep this shit hole I’ll get my shit- staying with some friends now. You’re an asshole and I honestly don’t wish you any luck, you’ve made me feel shit for so long ’m done.” I sighed, pulling out my phone and tapping in some digits. Beep.
But I’ll admit that I’m afraid
“What the fuck do you mean you’re leaving me? You’ll run back- heck you’re not going anywhere!” He gripped my throat tight, refusing to let go. Furiously, I kicked him in the gut, his whiskey stained breath blew in my face and it stung. “Get the fuck off of me Jake!” I pushed him and he punched me in the face, hard. I leaped at him and we wrestled on the floor, he hovered above me and gripped one of my wrists, my throat in the other. “You don’t get to leave, this is your fault!” He spat, fury in his eyes with a curtain of greasy, dirty blonde hair. My vision was fogging heavily as I kicked my legs to hopefully pry him off, nope.
The door burst open, a buzz of familiar voices surrounded my head. Jake was pried off of my and I felt my throat in my heart, that was too close. Eventually, my vision was less foggy and I felt two hands hoist me to sit up. I blinked heavily, it had gone so fast it was hard to process what had happened. Drip, blood dripped down from my mouth and nose. I could make out the figures; Chad, Max, Ian and of course, Joji. I must’ve accidently rang him. Silent, it was so silent. I took in my surroundings; alcohol pooled on the floor from the smashed bottle of Jack, TV smashed.
Let this romance go to waste
Jake was unconscious on the floor, his fringe covering his face, knuckles were purple and split from beating the shit out of me. Finally, I looked down at my hands, covered in blood; I caught my reflection in the mirror by the window of our apartment. My nose was bruised with a trail of blood down to my mouth, which was where more blood pooled heavily. Haunting bruises hung around my throat and collarbone and wrists, my eyes were bloodshot.
Eventually, I looked up at the boys, all of which were beyond shock and near tears; Joji was already crying into his hands. Ian gripped my arms and gently pulled me up to stand, which I struggled with. “____, why did he do this?!” Ian spoke into the cold air. Chad kicked Jake to the corner, spitting on him. “He’s a sick bastard, why the fuck…” Max clenched his fists. I wobbled, confused with the whole situation. “Jo…” I muttered, pleading for some sort of comfort from him. He removed his hands from his face and grabbed me, holding me close where I just cried.
Excuse me for my plastic taste
“I…I wanna go home.” I whimpered, my clothes were tattered around me so Ian grabbed a white top, leggings and a pair of black vans and Joji wrapped his grey hoodie around me, pulling me to his side. After a quick hussle, Max and Chad had grabbed my things, including clothing, gaming things, wash things, makeup and a photo album. I clutched my phone and my Totoro plush, given to me by Jo and we quietly got into the Rover outside.
Moments after we got out the car and into Max’s apartment, Chad placed my suitcases and bag on the kitchen counter as Ian and Jo guided me to sit down at the kitchen breakfast counter. “You need something to eat, you look starvin’.” Jo muttered into my ear, I shook my head and whipped out a cig, lighting it and savouring the vile taste in my mouth. He snatched it from my hands and crushed it in the ash tray, handing me a cup of water. “Ian go grab the first aid kit, I’ll try'n’ sort out her wounds and shit.” He said in his husk voice, Ian nodded and bounced up the stairs. “I’ll make up a quick omelette, Max is sorting out rooms-” “She can sleep in with me, she’ll have a shower after to get rid of the blood and alcohol over her-” “I’m still here, I’m not a child.” I sighed, rubbing my head from the potential concussion Jake had given me. Two white pills were placed in front of me with my water and Jo nudged me gently. Grimacing, the pills burned my throat and I just gave him a thumbs up and gulped down the water.
Excuse me for my plastic taste
“Come on, eat up.” Joji nudged my shoulder, after minutes of watching me painfully play with my food to look as if I had ate some. I just stared at the ceramic plate, the food looked good but I couldn’t even attempt to make my first bite from the sickening pain in my head and stomach; the guilt, the heartbrokenness and the empty pit in my stomach just made eating seem harder than it should. “I…I can’t.” I stammered, twisting the fork around between the folds of omelette. I just kept staring at the plate, thoughts of what Jake had done to our plates, the smashing, the cuts, the blood-
I broke, tears pooled out of my puffy eyes and I just cried and cried. My hands held my head off of the counter and I sobbed; finally recalling what had just happened within the last four hours. The taste of guilt riddled my tongue, almost plastic like. The burning of my throat was overthrown by my tears. Echoing, my cries at two in the morning left Joji speechless. I began to claw at my head and my arms, hyperventilation finally stirring. He grabbed my wrists and held them to him, preventing me from being able to do more damage. I kicked and screamed and he held me from behind; hushing into my ear as his head rest on my shoulder as he tried to calm me. Plastic. My screams turned into low sobs and my hands fell limp to my side as my head hung as I cried. “It’s okay, you’re safe; everything’s going to be fine, you’re safe It’s me, It’s George okay just breathe.” Those were the words mumbled into my ear, calming me down slowly.
There will be two more chapters, plus a prologue. SO, if you want
to be tagged for the rest, yay! Just shoot me a message. If you don’t
want to be tagged, then shoot me a message and I will try to keep my
tears to a minimum, and go to my room and sit in the corner. Be gentle. I am a delicate flower.
Special thanks to: @outside-the-government for encouraging me to write again, and for being my beta and idea bouncer. Also @imoutofmyvulcanmind for being an idea bouncer, and letting me torture you with snippets, yay!
Jensen watched from a safe distance as Jo and Ash had a knife quarrel. Something about real, solid, sharp knives and swinging them at each other wasn’t something he seemed to be fond of.
He had started asking questions about you and the more he questioned, the more Jo and Ash regretted telling him. It was as if they expected him to just understand immediately, but he didn’t and now he was curious.
It took him a moment, but after standing here and watching the two, he has finally realized why Eric was so hell-bent on the cast of ‘Supernatural’. The Jo and Ash in real life looked to be complete opposites of the Jo and Ash in the show. This Ash didn’t have a mullet, this Jo had black hair. Jensen was absolutely amazed by how hard Eric tried to dig a stake in between reality and the show and keep it there, so he started to wonder if Eric had a few slip-ups within the seasons.
“Who plays Y/N?” Jensen called out, making the two pause in their little quarrel. They both turned to him, one of Ash’s brow raised, Jo crossing her arms over her chest. “You said that the show is- Who did Y/N inspire?”