Him.. (Val x Reader/oc)

Family, A Job, and A life of hell....(A val chapter)

⚠️⚠️CONTENT WARNING! TRIGGERING TOPICS: This chapter focus's on my own AU and headcannon of Val and his backstory, it will feature the following: Sexual assault (themes, not details), drugs, alcohol, physical and emotional abuse, domestic violence, religious trauma, homophobia, homophobic slurs, and disordered eating, per usual, I'll leave a little summary at the end, for those who want you r need to skip this Chapter, however this chapter is important to the build up of the story  as well as Valentino's character in this story, and even with the triggering topics I recommend reading it fully, it also is my way of coping with some of my personal traumas. <3 ⚠️⚠️

Val's POV
I took a drag of my cigarette and looked down at them, still asleep in my bed. They had only been working for 2 weeks or so, but damn they were good, got me a fuckton in cash. But they asked too many damn questions.

*Flashback, last night, walking in the park*
"So...why won't you tell me about your family? I mean, we all have our trauma it can't be too bad—" "shut up. I said to drop it, now I am trynna help you and enjoy our night. So shut. Up." Maybe it was harsh. But they don't need to know jackshit about my 'life'. My...

*New orleans, Louisiana; 1951; Church, age 10.*
Parents don't know nothing. I sat in the pews of the church as my grandfather carried on his sermon. He owned this church, but I hated going. It's so boring! There isn't anything fun to do. My grandmama always sat next to me, mostly to make sure I focused, even if she ain't Baptist, she makes sure I pay attention to granddaddy's words. "Vivvy, focus" she whispered, moving my head gently up to look at the stage where my grandfather was preaching, I always zoned out during the sermon, it was boring. I huffed and she let out a small giggle, then placed a hand on my back. "...And when you allow G•d into your hearts, your home, he WILL return the favors to you. But you have to..." I zoned out again. My mama flicked the back of my head, quickly to be sure none of the other members saw. We had this reputation, perfection. But we were far from it. Another quick flick and I snapped back to reality. "And with that, Amen." An echo of "amens" filled the room along with the sound of people standing up and chattering, my grandfather walked to the front of the church to shake peoples hands as they exited. I stood up and grabbed my Grandmothers hand, she leaned on her cane. My grandmother was from Haiti, she was a Vodout, someone who practiced Voodoo as a religion. She was teaching me some too, I much prefer voodoo over Jesus. Papa took a sip out of his flask, and I heard my mama mumble to him "drinkin' in church? Really Lence?" He whispered back "I'm not fightin with you Diane. Not here." They argued a lot, almost always. But not in church, the people down here love to talk, and gossip would make us look bad, I mean, my grandfather is the preacher, it would destroy our reputation, my mama says that our reputation is more important than Anythin. "And remember to come to y'all's weekly confessions if you haven't done so already, it is the only way for the lord to forgive..." I hated confession..he always insisted we do it privately...it never felt good. Confession is supposed to make you feel clean, holy, like you have a weight lifted from your shoulders...For me, I just felt dirty...wrong. He said they were secret, I couldn't tell or I'd go to hell, I don't want to go to hell..We grabbed our stuff and walked home, Granddaddy always came home late from church, paperwork and confessions and stuff. We walked silently, I watched as other kids ran around freely in their Sunday clothes, I envied them, envy is a sin. Once we got home, mama and papa would go in separate rooms, they wouldn't fight on Sundays, G•d especially watched on sundays, mama said so, I'm always extra good on Sunday. Grandmama would begin cooking dinner, and I would help. I love being in the kitchen with her, papa says it's a girls job, that I'm being a pansy, a fag, but Grandma says he's just mad that he can't cook. "Vivvy, why don't you go play? The street lights aren't on yet, I can do the cookin tonight" my grandmother said, as she chopped carrots, "I wanna help" I respond. The truth was, I didn't have many friends, but she didn't need to know that. "Val, go play honey, a growin boy should not spend this much time inside!" I didn't want to argue, so I nodded "yes ma'am," I grabbed a roll and I huffed as I walked outside, most kids don't like me, they don't like playing with the pastors grandson, they think I'll tattle. So, I go and play by myself in the bayou in the woods behind our house. It's dangerous, that's what my grandmama says, but I like it back there. I walked back and sat down on my jacket. Papa would be real mad if I messed up my church pants. I threw rocks into the water, careful to avoid gators, I can run fast—but they can run faster. I heard a rustle in the bushes, and quickly turned my head, without hesitation I threw a rock as hard as I could at the bush. "OW!" Someone shouted, a young boy climbed out from behind the bush, his back was turned to me for a second as he rubbed the back of his head, then he turned to face me....He had auburn, curly, long hair, green eyes and cream colored skin. He was wearing a yellow sweater and a pair of denim pants. "W-Why'd you throw a r-ro-rock at me!?" He shouted, looking at me. I looked at him, and then bursted out into laughter. Vincent. My best friend, or, really my only friend. I called him Vinny, he called me Tino. He had a bad stutter, got teased a lot, but I grew used to it and learned to be patient when he spoke. He'd get the word out eventually. "Sorry Vin, I thought you was an animal" I said, gasping for air as I laughed harder. "Yea, w-well I'm not, tha-th-th-that hurt Tino!" he slowly started to smile, then sat his book down and walked over. See, Vincent was from the city, New York, he was much more proper than I was. And it helped that his parents had money. His father owned a business, he was like my papa, but without the drugs. And his mama was crazy. She was nice, sure, treated Vinny really well, sometimes I wish my mama was like her. But she was constantly worrying about Vin, he had medications he had to take, but he seemed healthy, he couldn't get dirty, he couldn't be out at night, he won't supposed to hang out with me—("that boys a bad influence. Nothing but pure trouble!" She would say.)—but he broke that rule. He swiftly picked up a rock and threw it into the murky water of the bayou. "How w-w-was church t-t-ti-Tino?" "I'd rather be with you,"....Two hours or so passed, the streetlights weren't off, it was fine. Me and Vinny talked for a while, he talked about his day, and I talked about other stuff, but after awhile it grew silent, other then the sound of crickets and the rocks splashing into the water. He explained his book to me—he was an academic—and I just listened, I never had much to talk about.
"Hey, did you do the homework for ms. Easton?" I asked, I really didn't care and I knew the answer, but conversation was nice. Vin always did his schoolwork, he was smart. "'Course I d-di-did, My m-ma would crucify me i-if I didn't" I nodded in agreement. "Can I copy? My grandmama said if ms. E walks me home one more time with a bad report, then she'll—" "You boys shouldn't be out in these woods!" Me and Vinny dropped the rocks and looked in the direction of the voice, as the figure walked closer I realized it was my grandfather. "Valentino, you have confessional tonight...and Vincent your mother don't want you back here. Not to mention that psychopath on the loose, the uh...Radio killer, I believe is the name." He said, placing a hand on my shoulder. The radio killer was a myth—at least, I think he is. No one's ever seen him, but the legend of it says he walks through the woods whistling, then follows you home and kills ya with an axe, his only clue is the fact he leaves the radio on when he leaves. A bunch of mumbo-jumbo to scare kids if you ask me, but I won't scared., Vincent grabbed his book and sheepishly walked over to my grandfather. "Bye tino, m-meet me at the park after s-s-school?" He said, I nodded. He looked at my grandfather and mumbled "See you ne-next Wednesday for church father.." my grandfather nodded as Vin ran off and got on his bike. "Val, you know better than to be here." He said coldly. I nodded and he backhanded me, almost making me fall to the ground. "Don't shake your head at me boy...you answer when I speak to you...now let's get back to the church so you can do your..confessions...then we'll get home for supper" he said, squeezing my shoulder tighter. "Yes sir..." I mumbled. We began walking to the church, I always hated the..