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Kat&Hunter

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(AN) RIght hey guys! Well remember when i said i was going to write  another part for le bootyful kat and hunter? yeah well i'm finally doing it >.< This isn't a one shot, i think it'll have maybe 10 or so chapters. i know i'm getting carried away, but i can't seem to stop writing about the beautiful hunter<3 also, another reason i'm writing this is to introduce characters to my new story - Chelsea Smile. Well it's not a new story, i wrote it a while ago. But the main characters are included in this story>.<

AND! I'm also going to write a story about my friend who Hunter is based on. It's going to be about his life with his Dad, how i came into it, how we had a mini relationship, but i'm going to change a few bits. like exaggerate some boring bits, make the really upsetting bits not as bad. i just thought that it'd be a good idea seeing as loads of people are asking>.< and i dunno if i've told you this, but my friend that hunter's based on, guess his name?

Gabriel.

Oh and keep in mind, Hunter never went to school till he was 14. He could barely talk when up until then, so he's obviously going to speak like a little kid. OH AND, I can't remember John's Dad's name, so ima call him Mike. Ok, bootyful boys and girls?

Anywhores my lovelies, here you go<3

***

No. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. He wasn't here, he wasn't here. I just had to look away, close my eyes and look away. And then after a few seconds, look back. He would be gone. He would finally be gone.

"John, look at me son."

"I'm not your fucking son!" I spat and my head snapped up as I glared at my Father. Wait, no. He wasn't my Father. He was nothing close to what a Father would be like. He hurt me, he made me hurt my wife and my son. He made me hurt little Gabe when he was just a baby. My poor Gabe.

"John, please-"

"No!" I screamed and pushed him away from me. "You..you bastard! You fucking bastard! You hurt me! You hurt me you fucking fucking bastard!"

"John, you have to listen to me!"

"Listen?" I scoffed. Laughing hard, I struggled to recomompose myself. "What about you, Dad? Did you fucking listen to me?! Did you listen to me Dad?! When you raped and abused me?! Did you listen to me, huh?!"

"John I'm sorry," he said quietly. Moving towards me, he reached out for my shoulder.

"Get the fuck away from me," I hissed. "And you're sorry? That's ironic. Because I was sorry. Everytime you took me into your room, everytime you said I'd been bad, everytime you hurt me, I told you how sorry I was. I swore that I'd be good, that I'd never do anything wrong ever again. I was sorry. But did you stop? NO! You still fucking raped me! And now-"

"And now what?"

"Now I hate you more than ever," I glared. "You know why?"

"Because I ruined your life?"

"No! Because you made me hurt my son!"

His whole face paled. His fists unclenched and his eyes, I swear they almost watered a bit. He looked at me in disbelief. He looked at me with a face I'd never seen before. It wasn't anger, it wasn't scary. It was just..shock.

"You have..you have a son?" He choked.

"Yeah," I sighed. "That's why I haven't spoken to you in years. I thought that if I kept away..I wouldn't feel the urge to be like you. But even that didn't work,"

"How old is he?"

"13,"

"What's his name?"

"Gabriel," I decided not to tell him I changed the name.

"Can I..can I see him?"

"No," I hissed. "No fucking way, Mike! You made me hurt him! Do you know what I do to him? Everything you fucking did to me! I let other men hurt him! They hurt him and give me money for it! And then I use that money to supply myself with the drugs, that make me forget about the man that ruined my life. You,"

"John let me see him," he growled. "Let me see him right now,"

"No,"

"John let me see my freaking grandson!"

"No!" I screamed and pushed him away. "You gonna hit me? You gonna hit me, Mike?!"

"Please.." he whispered. "Let me see him,"

"No!"

"Let me see him and you'll never hear from me again! I promise I'll leave you alone! I'll never come back! I'll never try to get in contact! Please! For 5 minutes, John. 5 minutes!"

"Fine," I took in a deep breath and brushed the hair from my eyes. My green eyes. My Dad's fucking eyes.

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