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hopeswriting · 4 years

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FANDOM: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

EVENT: Flufftober 2020

PROMPT: “Oh No, They’re Hot”

AUTHOR: @hopeswriting

RATING: G

PAIRING: Adult!Colonnello/Adult!Skull

SUMMARY:

Colonnello officially meets Skull for the first time, and he finds him way more hot than a could-be, easy, bully target.

TAG WARNING: Swearing, Sexual Innuendos, Implied/Referenced Bullying

WORDS: 1603

How hard could it be to be a punctual human being?

Surely not that hard, seeing as Colonnello was one all his life.

You’d think he would have mastered the art of waiting by then, but if this Skull guy doesn’t show up in the next five minutes, he’ll just leave without looking back.

Or maybe he’ll stay until he shows up, so he can give him a piece of his mind, depending on how long he can make his drink last.

Colonnello rolls his eyes, bumps his head against the wall.

This whole “meeting the Arcobaleno one-on-one as your now teammates” is ridiculous. What is he, a new student at school trying to win the favor of the popular kids?

Colonnello was always among the popular kids, thank you very much. He can’t believe Lal would support this idea, but no matter now.

He just needs to meet the Cloud to be done with it all for good.

Colonnello hears it long before he can see it.

A black and purple motorbike rounds the street corner in a very sharp turn, an equally black and purple driver riding it.

He speeds past the cars in no time, driving around them but keeping so close it’s a wonder they don’t make contact, the sound of the engine revving and the tires against the concrete drowning everything else.

He speeds right past Colonnello, then makes an abrupt u-turn, his motorcycle tipping sideways so low Colonnello doesn’t comprehend how he doesn’t fall, switches lanes, and smoothly parks right in front of him on the sidewalk.

Is this guy… trying to show off to him?

Because it’s working alright.

Colonnello laughs breathlessly, goosebumps up his arms. A chill runs down his spine, adrenaline running through him from just watching.

Oh, he absolutely needs to earn himself a ride.

Skull casually walks up to him, not seeming to care about all the eyes on him. “Hi, I’m Skull. Sorry, I’m not too late, am I?”

Colonnello glances at his watch. Thirty five seconds before five minutes.

This fucker.

“Hi, I’m Colonnello. You are late. I thought we both agreed on the meeting time?”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I got stuck in traffic.”

Colonnello subtly narrows his eyes. He just can see Skull grinning despite his helmet, and he sure as hell heard it.

This little shit.

“So. You met all the others already?”

“Yeah.”

“Right.” Skull puts his hands in his pockets, fidgets uncomfortably. “Well, I’m sure you heard all kind of things about me from them, but, you know, I wouldn’t exactly call them Skull specialists.” He shrugs, raises his hand to his head. It bumps against his helmet. “Oh right, my helmet. Hold a second.”

Colonnello’s drink goes down the wrong pipe. He doubles over in a coughing fit, his drink slipping from his hand entirely.

“Woah man, what the hell?”

What the hell?

This guy is hot.

“Are you alright?”

Colonnello pushes his helping hand away, still coughing a little.

Skull’s purple eyes watch him with amusement, highlighted by his purple smokey eye, with heavy mascara on his eyelashes that somehow only draws the gaze more to his eyes.

He nips at the piercing on his bottom lip, linked with the one on his earlobe by a silver chain. Plump lips smeared with purple lipstick spread in a smug smile, emphasizing the teardrop tattoo under his left eye.

His purple hair points in every direction in a stylish mess of a haircut, a fringe falling above his left eye.

And really, it’s a lot of purple, but holy shit the guy is gorgeous.

How did that not come up even once during Lal’s briefings?

“I’m fine, I just swallowed wrong.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

Colonnello straightens himself up, shakes his hand from the drink that spilled on him. He licks off the last of it, and oh, he knows that look in Skull’s eyes.

Good. Now they’re even.

“Sorry about that by the way,” Skull says. “These kind of accidents just keep happening around me, and I really just can’t figure out why.”

“Yeah,” Colonnello says, trying to play it off as casually as he can, “can’t imagine why either. I really don’t see anything that could provoke these kind of reactions.”

“Sure.”

“Listen, I’m a really smooth guy, alright?”

“I guess I’ll just have to take your words for it.”

“Fuck off.”

Skull snickers, something purposefully meant to rile him up further. Colonnello doesn’t take the bait, and bites the inside of his cheek to not laugh too.

Shit. Are they flirting? Colonnello can’t have that.

He has a reputation, and standards, and this guy... could very easily meet them, actually.

But he wears leather jumpsuits, chose purple as his defining color, and going on with the design on his helmet, octopuses of all things could get involved at some point.

And unfortunately Colonnello knows for certain it’s not just the symbol of the Carcassa famiglia.

“Oh shit, Immortal Skull?”

They both turn to the pair of teenagers, wide-eyed at the sight of Skull. Skull’s face lights up. He waves his hand excitedly, and poses for them to take a picture.

Colonnello raises his eyebrow.

Right. Stuntman shows, death defying stunts, famous guy.

He snorts. “Isn’t that cute? You have fans.”

Skull’s smile dims, and disappears entirely once the teenagers are on their way. “As a matter of fact, I do. It kind of comes together with being famous.”

“Yeah,” Colonnello scoffs, “famous for riding bikes.”

Skull doesn’t wince, not quite, but Colonnello catches his face twitching. He puts his free hand in his pocket, hunches his shoulders.

His voice is carefully neutral. “Yeah, for riding bikes. With hundreds upon hundreds of hours of training behind the handle, but no big deal right? Listen, can you...” he sighs deeply, meets his eye again “... just not? We literally just met? Or at least don’t come for the literal greatest passion of my life right off the bat, maybe? I don’t know man, just cut me some slack.”

“Sorry.”

Skull blinks. Colonnello blinks.

Well, that came out embarrassingly easily. And it did sound an awful lot sincere, if Skull’s more open face and posture is anything to go by.

Fucking hell, what is he doing? Playing nice? Is he actually trying to get on Skull’s good side?

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.” Colonnello watches the last of Skull’s hesitance disappears in his eyes, a smile slowly pulling at his lips until he grins at him again. “So, should we wrap this up? Or maybe we could keep meeting each other for a bit?”

Colonnello peers above his shoulder, at the sleek black and unfortunately purple motorbike.

Now, how much does he really want this ride?

“Sure,” he says, walking past him. He puts a leg over the bike, and sits comfortably on the back seat.

Maybe if he’s really good, Skull will let him drive it.

“Excuse you,” Skull splutters, “do you think I just let anyone ride my baby?”

“Excuse you,” Colonnello shots back, “take another good look at me and maybe you’ll realize I’m not anyone.”

“Right, you’re doing me a favor, is that it?” Skull crosses his arms on his chest, in what Colonnello supposes should have been an intimidating move. “I mean, you’re really hot alright, but I meet plenty of hot people on a daily basis. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Take another really good look at me, and maybe you’ll realize I’m a category of my own among hot people.”

Skull laughs, very clearly despite himself, the hard-to-get act nowhere to be seen. He chews on his lip a bit, but Colonnello knows he already won the argument.

“You just doesn’t have any will, do you?”

“Oh, hush.” Skull rolls his eyes, shoves him playfully. “Maybe I’m just weak for pretty people.”

Colonnello mournfully watches him puts his ugly helmet back on, and rethink his life choices. Really, this goddamned Curse just might have affected his tastes too.

“You know, I did hear things. And I must say I don’t understand.”

Skull throws his hands up in the air. “I know right? You’d think I would have gotten laid with, I don’t know, at least three of them by now. Well, minus Luce of course.” Colonnello gets whiplash. What even—? “No offense to you. I know you have a thing going on with Lal.”

“No, let’s stay focused. That’s where your priorities lie?”

Skull shrugs, takes his place in the driver seat. “I mean, in exchange of all this shit I didn’t sign up for? I think it would have been the barest fucking minimum.”

Colonnello bursts out laughing, because really, what else is there to do?

Not that he doesn’t strongly share the sentiment. He met the others too, and does vividly remember what they look like.

Skull revs the engine, and hell yeah, here they go.

Colonnello wraps his arms loosely around his waist, leans a bit too comfortably maybe against his back, rests his chin on his shoulder.

“Tell you what.”

Skull catches his eye in the rear view mirror. “I’m listening.”

“If you impress me really hard right now—”

“What, with my driving skills you mean? Is that supposed to be a challenge?”

“—and make me spend a really nice time with you,” Colonnello continues, ignoring him, “I just might do an exception for you to the “not on the first night” rule.”

Skull chuckles low in his throat, crinkles at the corners of his eyes. He lowers his visor.

“This better be a promise, because I’ll hold you to that.”

The anime watchers only might not know that, because the anime did him so dirty, but Skull is straight up handsome.

I, for one, at the very least, find him very pretty, really handsome, and yes, straight up gorgeous. And it’s a hill I will die on, and I won’t hear any criticism on that.

Also I enjoyed myself writing this so much. Could you tell? Because this is my khr otp as of now, and I wish they’d be hundreds more fics about them for me to read.

Rarepair hell is, well, hell lmao.

Thank you for reading! Any and all review are appreciated ^^.

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #khr fanfic #flufftober 2020 #khr skull #khr colonnello #oh no they're hot #colonnello x skull #otp immortal soldier #guys guys guys #IMMORTAL SOLDIER #i found it that's what their ship name would be #i'm still open to propositions but let's be real #it's a VERY cool ship name i have there #also sex at first sight am i right #because yeah they do make out that day asdfghjkl #i said what i said

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master-sass-blast · 5 years

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Found Family Part Four: Nathan “Cable” Summers.

This might just be the single best fic I’ve ever written. Holy shit.

Summary: An over view of your relationship with Nathan “Cable” Summers. Has tie ins with Myshka and Dig the Needle In, set before Rubber Meets Road.

Rating: T for adult language, mention of abuse, injuries, and death, and angst.

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin x Reader and Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson.

This the fourth installment of a mini-series I’ve been working on! Check out the first three parts here: Wade, Neena, The Three Teens.

A massive thank you to the amazing @leo-writer for reading over this for me and reassuring me that it is, in fact, good.

Tag List: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie (if you want to be added to the list, DM me or drop me an ask).

(X-Force Rap lyrics found here.)

Nathan Charles “Cable” Summers is an enigma. A grumpy, gun-toting enigma with a techno-organic arm, eye, and various miscellaneous parts.

He spends most of his time with Wade despite the fact that he seems just as annoyed by the merc’s antics as everyone else. He spends his time either working with the X-Men or working on his mission to unfuck the Earth. Given the amount of coffee he downs on daily basis, you’re not sure when he sleeps.

He also wears bifocals when he reads, practices yoga and meditation, and has a vegetable garden that he lets the students at the Institute help him with.

Nathan Charles “Cable” Summers is… weird.

***

You meet him for the first time shortly after your arrival at the Institute.

“This is one of our training rooms,” Charles explains as he gives you the grand tour of the place. “We do require our residents to under go basic mutation control training for safety purposes.” He wheels towards a man with gray hair and a metal arm. “This is Cable. He’ll be your training mentor for the time being.”

Cable turns, techno-organic eye glowing orange as he looks you over. “You have any experience with sparring?”

You blink. “Uh… no.”

“Firearm handling?”

“Not… really.”

He nods. “We’ll start with those tomorrow.”

You stare after him as he turns and walks away, seemingly satisfied with the conversation –or lack thereof, really. What in the actual fuck?

***

So, Cable –as it turns out—isn’t nearly half as intimidating as he looks.

He’s gruff and grumpy, yeah, but it makes sense after you get the thumbnail version of what happened to his family and how he ended up here from Colossus and the Professor. And he doesn’t talk much, but it’s because he genuinely prefers being quiet. More than that, actually, he doesn’t like having to carry the conversation; he’s more than happy to just let you talk all you want and only chime in occasionally.

He’s especially hard to take seriously after you catch him working in his garden while wearing a pair of hot pink Crocs.

You can’t help but cackle. “Where the fuck did you get those!”

“Wilson got ‘em for me,” he grunts.

“And you’re wearing them because?”

“They’re comfortable. Wash easy. No sense in throwing them away or wasting them.”

You shake your head as you chuckle. What a dork.

***

Firearm training goes well. Cable is scrupulous about firearm safety; you don’t even get to take your first shot before you can break down a gun and put it back together and recite the rules of responsible gun handling in your sleep.

Sparring and trying to train your powers, on the other hand…

“You’re breaking form again,” Cable says, stopping his swing before it can gain any momentum. “You’re liable to get hurt if you keep flinching away from everything.”

“I know, I know; I’m sorry.”

“I’m not looking for you to apologize. I’m trying to help you avoid hurting yourself.”

“Sor—” You cut yourself off with a grimace and try to keep your hands from shaking. “Right. Let’s… let’s try again.”

Cable doesn’t go back into his sparring stance, though. He puts his hands on his hips and tilts his head back as he regards you. “You got beat on, didn’t you.”

It’s not a question.

You swallow hard and look away. “Does it matter?”

“Yeah.” He puts his hand on your shoulder and nudges you towards the edge of the ring. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“For a walk.”

***

You wind up in the kitchen. The room’s empty, save for the two of you.

You frown as Cable pulls out the cookie jar from its carefully hidden spot in the cupboard over the toaster. “What are you doing?”

“Mentoring. That, and I’m hungry. You want milk?”

You nod, carefully seating yourself at the counter. “I didn’t, uh, take you for a, uh, sweet stuff sort of guy.”

“Don’t have sugar in my time,” Cable says as he pours two glasses of milk. “Was bitching about it when I first came here, then Wade told me to shut the fuck up, enjoy it if I wanted to, and focus on using my energy for productive shit.” He pauses, then smirks. “And then he listed about twenty things that weren’t productive in the least.”

“Sounds like Wade,” you agree with a laugh. You pick a cookie from the jar, then dunk it into your milk before popping it in your mouth. “You know, for all that you seem to be annoyed by him, you spend a lot of time with him.”

“Wilson’s practical. We have similar worldviews. And when he’s not being an ass, he’s funny.” He shrugs. “I like him.”

You blink, then take the opportunity to play wingman for your best friend. “He likes you too, you know.”

Cable snorts. “Believe me, I know. He’s not exactly subtle.”

“So you’re just… letting him do his thing?”

“Wade’s got his own shit to work out first,” he says with a shrug. “He lost his girlfriend; he’s still grieving.”

“And you aren’t?”

Cable grimaces. “My wife and daughter are alive. Even if I can’t see them, I can build a better world for them. And that doesn’t necessarily stop me from loving. But Wade isn’t ready for that. And if he decides he is, at some point, I’ll be here.”

You smile. “Wow. That’s really romantic.”

He grunts. “I’m not romantic.”

“Yeah, you are. You’re a big softie.”

“I’m not.”

“You so are.”

“Not.”

“Are.”

He huff and shakes his head, corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk. “Whatever, kid.”

You take another cookie and focus purposefully on your glass of milk as you dunk it. “So, uh, why’re we here instead of training?”

“You’re not gonna be able to train properly until you stop being afraid of being hit,” Cable says bluntly. “The way I see it, that’ll be easier for you if you actually trust me.”

You frown and glance up at him. “So, what, we’re… bonding?”

“Yep.”

Weird… but not bad.

You help yourself to another cookie. “Okay.”

***

The two of you don’t operate the way you and Wade do.

First, Wade is about ten thousand times crazier than Cable will ever be. Second, you and Wade are basically best friends; between the larger age gap between you and Cable and his vastly different personality, the two of you just don’t mesh the same way you and Wade do.

But you do connect. The two of you train together, tell each other about various parts of your lives. He teaches you first aid and some basic home maintenance skills, you teach him about which memes mean what and what Wade means when he uses them –which is basically a history lesson for Cable since he’s from the future, but whatever. It’s symbiotic.

You learn about each other. It’s progress.

***

Your training, however, is not progressing.

You drop down onto your knees on the training mat and grab at your hair. “Fuck!”

Cable kneels down next to you, ignoring the multiple sets of eyes looking in your direction as he puts a steadying hand on your shoulder. “Hey, easy. Deep breaths.”

“I can’t do it.”

“You’re right, because you’re panicking. Come on, in through your nose, out through your mouth.”

You ignore him in favor of biting on the inside of your cheek so you don’t cry. “Fuck, why am I such a fucking failure?”

Cable stays quiet for a moment, then pulls you to your feet. “Come on.” He walks you to a quiet hallway and has you sit down on the nearest bench.

You swipe at your nose with the back of your sleeve. “Sorry.”

“Got nothing to be sorry for. Just focus on calming down.”

“I just really wanna get this fucking right.”

“You’re not going to until you stop expecting yourself to fail,” Cable says, to the point as ever. “It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. And I doubt you’ll get past that until you process more of your childhood trauma.”

You grimace. “I’d really rather not.”

“Christ, what is with this century’s hang up on not working through emotions?” Cable grumbles.

“Yeah, because travelling back in time to murder a child is the pinnacle of working through emotions,” you fire back, too upset and pissy to be concerned with being nice.

“Touché,” he grunts as he sits down next to you.

You sniffle and do your best to dry off your face with your sleeves. “I just… I’m trying. I really am.”

“I know.”

“It’s just… it’s scary,” you admit quietly. “I know you’re not gonna hurt me –not really, anyway, though I’m not fond of the idea of getting hit by your metal fist—but it’s still just… scary.”

“I know. But the only way out is through.”

You shake your head. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You can. You’re capable. And you need to.”

You shake your head again, throat constricting as more tears threaten to spill. “I can’t. Maybe with the hand-to-hand stuff, but not with my powers.”

Cable cocks his head to the side as he looks at you. “What’s the difference?”

You fidget with the hem of your shirt. “I’ve… I’ve killed people before with my powers. On accident. I was a kid; I didn’t know how to control them.”

“Jesus Christ,” Cable groans.

“I can’t –I can’t do that again, I can’t—”

“Okay, okay.” He puts an arm around you and squeezes your shoulders as you try not to cry too loudly. “Let’s be done for today.”

“No—”

“Yes. You’re not in the headspace to train right now. We’ll do something else.”

“Like what?”

He shrugs. “Wilson keeps telling me I need to try Taco Bell.”

You snort. “So we’re going from exercising to diarrhea central. Talk about lifestyle whiplash.” You glance over at him. “You know you’re gonna hate it, right?”

“I figured as much.” He stands and nudges your shoulder. “Come on.”

***

(For the record, Cable actually likes Taco Bell.)

***

Unfortunately, word of your little “meltdown” in the training room spreads during your Taco Bell excursion. By the time you get back, the entire mansion knows about your struggles, and some of the X-Men decide that an intervention is necessary.

And they’re led by none other than Scott Fucking Summers, because that would be your luck, dammit.

You’ve never wanted to melt into the carpet of Professor Xavier’s office so badly before. Unfortunately –also your shitty luck—turning into a liquid is not within your mutation set.

You do, however, sink back into the chair you’re perched on as much as you can, which helps.

“This is a safety issue!” Scott declares as he glares at Cable. “If Y/N can’t train to control her powers, then she is a danger to everyone in this house!”

Gee, you’ve never heard anything like that before. Not even once –definitely not multiple times a week, by both your parents and various members of the town you grew up in.

“Those glasses come off your face, and you blast a hole through whatever’s in front of you.” Cable shrugs. “Doesn’t seem very controlled to me.”

“Scott has trained to regulate his responses and control,” Ororo points out. “If Y/N can’t control her abilities, her future as a resident does have to be brought into question –to say nothing of her potential future as an X-Man—”

“No one ever said anything about her being an X-Man,” Cable growls. “Just that she needed rudimentary training.”

“All permanent residents at the Institute either work as teachers, healers, or X-Men!” Scott snaps, quickly losing patience as the argument drags on. “We aren’t an open house charity!”

“Self-control, please,” Piotr says, holding his hands up in a calming gesture. “This does not need to escalate.”

“I agree with Mr. Rasputin,” Professor Xavier says, inserting himself into the conversation before Scott can start talking again. “Calm discussion is the goal, here. As for Miss L/N’s residency, she’s here for protective custody, which makes her an automatic permanent resident for as long as she wants to stay.”

Scott’s face creases into a frown. “She’s an adult. She doesn’t need protective custody.”

Professor Xavier glances once at you before clasping his hands together and placing them on his desk. “The details of Miss L/N’s past are for her to disclose at her discretion. However, having consulted with our legal representatives on the matter, I can assure you that protective custody is warranted for this situation.”

“But—”

“The terms of Miss L/N’s residency here at the Institute is a closed issue, Mr. Summers,” the Professor says firmly. “However, the issue of her control training does need to be addressed, if only for the peace of mind of the other residents here.”

You can’t fucking deal with this; you can’t handle listening to them talking about you, let alone the thought of having to explain why you can’t get a grip on your powers—

You start crying.

And, apparently, you aren’t as subtle about it –well, as subtle as you can be with a telepath in the room—because Cable notices almost immediately. He’s by your chair in an instant, clasping your shoulder and telling you to take deep breaths.

“They’re all talking about me like I’m not even fucking here,” you seethe, body trembling as you try to reign in your emotions.

“We’re sorry, Y/N—” Professor Xavier starts.

“No, you’re sorry,” Cable snarls. “Don’t fucking speak for everyone.” He glares at Scott for a moment, then refocuses on you. “Do you want to take the lead?”

You recoil so hard you almost knock over the chair. “No –no. I can’t—”

“Okay, okay. I’ll handle it.”

You frown. “How?”

“I’m your trainer. It’s my job,” he replies with a shrug before standing. “Go on. Go cool off. I’ll take care of things.”

***

After about a half hour of “cooling off” Cable texts you to come down to the training rooms.

He’s there with Wade and Colossus when you arrive. “We just need to run some preliminary tests, so we can get an idea of your starting threshold.”

You freeze right in your tracks. “What—”

“Relax.” He nods his head at Wade. “We worked things out with Xavier; you’re on the X-Force with us. Wade doesn’t care if you run missions or not—”

Wade gives you a thumbs up, confirming what Cable’s saying.

“—so you can train at your own pace.”

You blink, and the nervous knot in your stomach slowly starts to unwind.

Emphasis on slowly.

“But –I haven’t been able to train with anyone yet,” you point out. “Not without freezing.”

Colossus gestures to the training room. “We have robotic simulates for solo training. Normally, they are only used by experienced members –but, with supervision, you can use them as well.”

You peer into the training room; sure enough, there’s a few robotic dummies on the training floor, currently inactive and slumped over.

“Okay… but I’ve never really used my powers… indoors.”

Well, you have, but most of those times ends with lots of broken glass and injured people.

“This room is designed to withstand Phoenix force,” Colossus explains, smiling reassuringly. “I doubt you could do worse than that.”

It’s a fair point. Jean’s one of the most powerful mutants you’ve met; if the training room can withstand her…

“Okay,” you decide, albeit reluctantly. You pad into the training room, then nearly jump out of your skin when the door swishes shut behind you. Relax, Y/N. Don’t be such a wuss.

A speaker crackles to life overhead a couple minutes later. “Okay, testing, one two, testing one-two-three, there once was a lady in Spain—”

There’s a growl and the sounds of a struggle –along with a lot of swearing and complaining from Wade—and then Cable takes over. “Alright, we’ll power up the training bots when you’re ready.”

You take a deep breath before fitting your flight goggles over your eyes. What the hell? May as well go for it. “Let’s rock this show.”

The bots jerk to life, straightening up—

And loud music blasts through the speaker system.

You flinch. “What the fuck?”

“It pays to team up with the franchise namesake!” Wade shouts over the intercom system. “We have our own theme song!”

You listen for a minute, shocked and utterly distracted. “What… on earth?”

“Nuts for luck! Get the party started! Knock you out like Colossus farted!”

You bust out laughing; you can easily picture the consternated expression on Colossus’s face, to say nothing of Wade’s own delighted expression…

Unfortunately, your lapse in focus gives the training bots ample time to cross the distance between you and them.

You yelp when one swipes at you and propel yourself away with a little blast of air. “Fuck!”

“You need to go on the offensive,” Cable instructs over the intercom system. “We won’t get a comprehensive baseline if you don’t.”

“I don’t want to break them!” you shout as you dodge another attack.

“They are meant to be broken,” Colossus reassures you. “Just try your best.”

So that’s what you do. You manage to bat them away from you repeatedly, but apparently ‘meant to be broken’ is some sort of secret code for ‘virtually indestructible.’ No matter what you try, the sparring dummies keep getting back up and attacking you all over again.

One of them manages to grab your arm, and the other two are quick to pile on. They’re heavier than they look, and trying to shake them off amounts to a whole lot of nothing.

You panic. You squirm and thrash in their grip, borderline hyperventilating as you try to free yourself.

You let out at a scream, and a wall of air slams into the sparring dummies. They careen into the walls, cracking in a few places and deactivating as they drop to the ground in short-circuiting heaps.

You drop onto your knees, panting as you brace yourself against the sparring mat.

Applause and raucous cheering –Wade—bursts over the intercom system, accompanied by general grumbling –Cable—and gentle pleas to calm down –Colossus.

Eventually, Cable manages to regain control of the microphone again. “I think we’ve got what we need. You can head out when you’re ready.”

You don’t run out of the training room, but it’s a near thing.

***

You don’t make it far, though. Wade intercepts you in the hall and practically tackles you with a massive hug.

“That was so cool!” he crows as he swings you around in a circle, ignoring your screeches of protest. “Super cinematic!” He sets you down gently –well, as much as Wade does gentle—and claps Cable on the shoulder. “Good thinking, Nate-y!”

You frown. “Wait, who’s—”

But Wade’s already skipping off down the hall, with Colossus following after him, a harried expression on his face, which just leaves you with Cable.

Cable.

You stare at him incredulously, eyes nearly bugging out of your face. “Nate-y?”

He rolls his eyes. “Nathan. My name’s Nathan.”

Which makes a lot more sense, admittedly.

He smirks. “What, did you think my parents actually named me Cable?”

You shrug. “I dunno. White people do weird shit with names.”

He snorts. “Fair enough. Not a trend that dies out in the future, by the way.”

“There’s really no hope for us, is there?” you joke. “So… you got a last name to go with ‘Nathan?’”

“Summers. Nathan Summers.”

The recognition hits like a light going off.

“Is Scott your dad?” you ask, vaguely horrified.

Cable –Nathan—nods. “Yep.”

You blink as you try to process the information. “I’m not sure if I’m weirded out by that… or if I’m just impressed that he actually managed to get laid.”

Nathan laughs. “You know, Wade said the same thing when he found out.”

“Well, that makes sense,” you say with a shrug. “We are siblings, after all.”

***

Training goes much better after that. Nathan has you work with the dummies for a while whenever the training room’s empty. Eventually, he works you up to training with him or Wade in the empty training room, then to sparring while everyone else is in there.

After a while, he greenlights you for missions with the X-Force.

And, shortly thereafter, you throw yourself through a plate glass window, dislocate your knee, crack three ribs, and have to be carried out to the X-Jet by Colossus.

Oops.

***

Fortunately, Nathan doesn’t mind stepping into the role of physical therapist. He helps you get your strength back and ramp up your training regimen in safe, healthy increments.

He also teaches you about the other aspects of recovering from injuries that you failed to learn from childhood.

“Ice is important to reduce swelling and inflammation; too much of either puts strain on the joint,” he says as he props your formerly dislocated leg over his knees. “But what most people forget is that you have to stimulate movement and blood flow in bits and pieces to help the muscles heal.”

“So, what you’re saying is I should run a marathon.”

He gives you look that would appear annoyed if it weren’t for the way the corner of his mouth turns up. “I’m saying ‘gentle massage and stretching.’” He carefully starts working his thumbs into the muscle area around your injured knee. “Not too much, and not too hard. Just enough to start loosening everything up.”

Colossus walks in while Nathan’s massaging your knee. He stops and stares for half a second, seemingly surprised. “Ah –Cable. The Professor would like to speak with you.”

Nathan helps you set your leg back down, then passes an ACE bandage to Colossus as he leaves. “Wrap her leg, will you?”

“Konechno.” He kneels in front of you, gently propping up your knee before unwinding the bandage. He glances up once –twice—to make sure Cable’s gone, then starts wrapping your knee. “So… you and Cable seem… close.”

“It’s just platonic,” you say quickly; it’s not every day the guy you think is cute asks if you’re “close” with someone else. “He’s like a dad to me. Besides, he’s both too old and too young for me and… yeah, no. Not my speed.”

Colossus chuckles as he slowly winds the bandage around your knee. “Fair enough, myshka.”

***

Things progress from there again. You heal, you get back to training and missions, and you improve quite a bit –and don’t throw yourself through anymore plate glass windows.

Then you get outed for using repression serum.

And everything stops.

***

You spend most of your time in your room after returning to the mansion. If you’re not there, you’re outside, at the fringes of Xavier’s property, where you’re unlikely to hurt anyone. You hike around in the small wooded area, run the trails, and generally keep away from everyone.

Nathan finds your preferred hiding spot after a few days –a tree stump that’s had the space underneath it hollowed out by animals and the weather. He sighs when he sees you. “You can’t hide from everyone forever.”

“I have to,” you choke out between sobs. “There’s no place for me here anymore.”

“Kid—”

“Don’t fucking ‘kid’ me! I’ve killed people; I’m a monster!” You level your index finger at him, baring your teeth as he looks down at you sadly. “And don’t give me that shit about how I was just protecting myself as a kid. I killed twenty people when I stole the repression serum from Harmony. I’m a murderer.”

“Just because the X-Men have a no killing policy doesn’t mean accidents don’t happen—”

“It wasn’t a fucking accident!”

He purses his lips and gives you a hard look. “You chose to kill men who decided they had the right to kill other people.”

“It doesn’t make a difference!”

“Yes, it does!” he snaps. “You went after shitstains that side with the likes of Klansmen and Nazis. I came back in time to kill a kid who was terrified after being abused his whole life because he’d grown up into an asshole that killed my family. If you’re a monster—” he points at you “—then so am I.” He taps his index finger against his chest. “And if you want to technical about the body count, you’re nowhere near me or Wilson. You gonna call us monsters, too?”

You shake your head after a long moment. “No.”

“Then you don’t get to do it to yourself.” His expression softens, and he holds out a hand to you. “Kid, c’mon. You deserve better than hiding out here or in your room.”

You stare at him with watery eyes for a long moment, then take his hand.

He pulls you out from underneath the stump and into a hug. He gently smooths your hair out as you cry and brushes your hair off your back. “You’re not a monster. The choices you made may have not been the right ones, but you’re not a monster.”

You just shake and sob in his arms, unable to speak.

Eventually, when you calm down, Nathan has you sit up so he can pull some tissues out of his fanny pack –utility bag, whatever. “Dry yourself off, kid. Those men aren’t worth your tears.”

You shake your head as you wipe off your face. “I can’t think like. It’s too easy to be angry.”

Nathan regards you for a moment. “You’re incredibly strong, you know that? I knew soldiers who went through half the shit you did, and they were some of the most bitter, hateful people I knew.”

“War and a sucky childhood are two different things.”

“Yeah, but war and abuse both break people, and you haven’t let it break you.”

You blow your nose and let out an exhausted sigh. “I feel pretty broken.”

“You’ll get there. Give yourself time.” He lets you calm down for a couple more minutes before leveling the boom you knew was coming. “You need to get back to training.”

You shake your head automatically. “No. I can’t –I can’t kill anyone again.”

“We’ll start you off on the dummies again—”

“I’m stronger without the serum; I could still hurt people, or bring part of the mansion down, or—”

“You’re not stronger than a cosmic entity at full strength,” Nathan interrupts, adamant. “I know you’re scared, but the longer you stay away from this, the worse it’s gonna be.”

“I can’t,” you whimper, tears coming back. “I can’t do it.”

“You can. You’ve done it before, and you can do it again. Look, you trusted me to help you the first time, right?”

You nod.

“Then trust me now. I’ve had plenty of time to watch your powers and watch you use them. You’re smart. You learn fast. You’re a fucking natural. You managed to correct your landings in a handful of weeks. You’ll get the rest of your powers dialed in.”

You try to swallow the lump around your throat and sniff pitifully. “But what if I really can’t? What if there’s something wrong with me that makes it impossible for me to control my powers?”

“Then you need a different kind of help, not training,” Nathan says simply. “But the Professor taught Jean how to control an omnipotent, several millennia old cosmic entity, and you’re a lot more stubborn than Jean is.”

You manage a weak smile. “I am pretty stubborn, aren’t I?”

“Damn right.” Nathan smiles back, then stands and holds out a hand to you. “Come on.”

You hesitate. “Everyone else is safer if I’m out here.”

“Debatable. Besides, you deserve to be around the people you love and love you.”

You let out a shaky breath, then take his hand.

***

It’s hard. And slow. Two of your least favorite things.

Nate’s with you every step of the way, though –and he listens to Alyssa’s recommendations about how to desensitize you to the training room all over again. The two of you start with just hanging out in the room –with and without other people in there—without doing anything else, then move on to training with weights or the punching bag. It takes three full weeks before you work your way up to training with the dummies.

You’re stronger. A lot stronger. You make Wade let out more than a few choice words over the intercom system as you decimate the X-Men’s collection of training bots over and over again.

“I told you,” Cable says as he helps you stretch before heading in one day. “You’re good. You’re powerful.”

“I don’t want to be powerful,” you mutter as you bend down to touch your toes. “I never asked to be powerful. And I—” you let out a strained laugh “—I don’t give a shit that other mutants would kill for my strength or abilities or what-fucking-ever. I never asked to be this way.”

“You don’t have to give a shit about their opinions. A lot of soldiers wanted my simulated abilities and added strength, thought I was lucky that I had a limb that wouldn’t bleed out. All this virus has ever caused me is pain.”

You straighten up and look at him directly. “You don’t think I’m being ungrateful?”

Nathan shrugs. “Don’t think ‘ungratefulness’ has much to do with it. Being the way you are has caused you a lot of problems and pain. It’s natural that you don’t like it.”

You let out a little sigh of relief and drop your forehead against his human shoulder. “Thanks, Nate.”

He pats your back gently with his human hand. “Anytime, kid. Anytime.”

***

It takes you a bit, but you eventually realize that you hadn’t been kidding or speaking empty words when you’d told Piotr that Nathan was like a dad to you.

He is like a dad to you. He gives you advice and helps you train and generally acts as a silent, comforting, familial presence whenever you’re flipping out about various things. He learns how to cook with you and about how to exist in the real world with you and teaches you about shooting a gun, fighting, and what a proper budget looks like.

He’s not like Wade, who’s fun and an entire basket of crazy. He’s not like Piotr, who doesn’t challenge you as much and almost never pulls out the tough love that you need to hear from time to time.

He’s more stable than your uncle and more decent than your biological father.

He’s… he’s like a dad to you.

And you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you can’t say anything about it to Nathan. You know he has Hope, that he has a real daughter, and you wouldn’t dare insinuate yourself in a space that’s already been filled.

So you train with him and hang out with him and enjoy his gruff companionship, but you don’t tell him what you really think of him.

You can’t.

***

You don’t go on missions.

Until you do.

Against your will, admittedly.

“I can’t fucking be here!” you hiss at Nathan as you attempt to hold back tears of terror.

“None of us have a choice right now,” he says, though not unkindly. “It’s an emergency call, remember? It’s why we got picked up in the middle of getting the damn groceries.”

You pick at the hem of your shirt. “I can’t do it. I’m not ready for it yet.”

“Okay.” He bats your hands away before you can destroy your shirt. “Then you wait in the cockpit until everything’s over, alright?”

You take a deep breath, then nod. “Okay.”

***

The mission goes South –which is shocking, considering that Neena’s on the job, too.

There’s just too many bad guys for your team. Even with Nathan breaking out his “ridiculawesome” gun and Russell using his fire to borderline dangerous levels, the goons just keep crawling out of every possible area.

Neena’s lucky powers are probably the only reason everyone other than Wade isn’t dead yet, you think as you watch everything play out from the jet. You wince when Juggernaut lands a devasting hit on Piotr. “Come on, babe! Kick him in the balls!”

Your chest tightens and your breathing speeds up as you watch the fight fall further South. They can’t do it. They’re going to lose. They’re going to…

You don’t even think about what you’re doing as you open the hangar door before sprinting out of the cockpit. You grab your flight jacket and goggles and throw them on as you dash out of the jet and run towards the fight.

Piotr’s managed to throw –literally, yeet and all—Juggernaut back, stunning the brute momentarily before the helmeted honcho started charging down your little family once more.

You speed up, then launch yourself upwards with a burst of air. You put all your focus into what you’re about to do and let a scream of rage as you sail towards Juggernaut.

He notices you halfway through his charge. “What the—”

You land a few feet away from him and throw your hands forward, sending him hurtling back with the most powerful sustained blast of air you can summon.

Several other of the gun toting villains get caught in the burst of wind as well, sailing away into the air with shrieks of alarm.

Behind you, Wade lets out a jubilant crow. “Fuck yeah! Take that you Bane-wannabe-cocksucker!”

You keep up the torrent of wind, pushing Juggernaut back until he figures out how to brace himself and stops moving.

It’s a stalemate. The unstoppable force versus the immovable object.

“I’m gonna stop the wind!” you shout.

“What?” Wade screams back. “Are you insane?”

“Don’t worry! I’ve got a plan!”

As soon as the wind fizzles out, Juggernaut growls and charges at you once more. “I’m gonna shove you down the metal guy’s throat, you dumb bitch.”

You bare your teeth at him in a scowl and cock your fist back. “Shove this, asshole.” You let him get barely outside of grabbing distance, then swing your fist forward

A sonic boom explodes across the landscape as you accelerate Juggernaut past the speed of sound. His shrieks of terror can be heard in the distance as he sails away, followed by the sounds of total chaos and destruction as he crashes into various trees and building-like objects.

“Holy shit!” Wade pumps both his fists in the air. “She wasted Juggernaut! You wasted Juggernaut! What in the ass, that was so awesome!”

“Fight’s still not over,” Nathan says, but he’s grinning. “We’ve got some drones in the air, and we’ve still got people on the ground to take care of.”

“I got the drones,” you say as you run forward and take off.

***

As soon as the jet takes off, once you all have vanquished your foes, Wade yanks you into a big hug and spins you around. “That was fucking incredible!”

You shriek and laugh. “Put me down! Christ!”

“You did it,” Neena says with a massive grin as Wade puts you down. “You didn’t think you could, but you did.”

Piotr clasps your shoulder gently as he kisses the top of your head. “We are all very proud of you, myshka.”

“I realized I was more scared of losing all you than I was of losing control,” you say with a shaky laugh. “You guys are my family.”

Russell grins. “Seriously. We’re your family?”

You grin back. “Hell yeah! Wade’s my brother, Neena’s my big sister, you, Ellie, and Yukio are basically my cousins, and Piotr’s my future baby daddy.” You favor your –now flustered—boyfriend with a cheeky smile while everyone laughs. “You’re all my family. I… I love all of you.”

“Aw, so sappy! Group hug!” Wade cheers as he yanks you, Russell, and Yukio into a hug.

“Absolutely not,” Ellie grumbles as she quickly retreats to the cockpit.

***

Everything goes well after that.

Except it doesn’t.

Nathan is… oddly distant for the rest of the evening. He barely makes eye contact with you for the rest of the flight, books it off the jet as soon as it lands, and doesn’t speak to you for the rest of the evening.

You’re confused. And hurt. You’d expected –unselfishly—that Nathan would have some sort of… something to say to you after your little “breakthrough.” He’s been so integral in your journey of learning to not be afraid of your powers, and he’s always had some sort of encouragement or praise –or tough love, when the situation called for it—at all your milestones.

You can’t even find him once you’re cleared by Dr. McCoy. He’s a total ghost –one that doesn’t reply to your texts and phone calls, to boot.

“Did I say something?” you ask Wade at one point, nervous to the point you feel like puking. “Something’s wrong, but I don’t know what I did.”

“I don’t know,” Wade says with a grimace. “I’ll see if I can figure something out from him, promise.”

By the time you’re ready –well, need—to go to bed, you still haven’t heard anything from Wade or Nate. You’re so worked up over it that Piotr has to coax you into bed and rub your back to help you calm down.

Which works wonders for him. He’s so tuckered out from his fight with Juggernaut that he falls asleep while rubbing circles up and down your back.

(You think it’s genuinely cute of him.)

You toss and turn next to your snoring boyfriend, replaying the fight and the flight back over and over in your head, searching for any mistake, no matter how miniscule, that might’ve set Nathan off like this.

After what feels like hours –mostly because it’s been hours—Wade texts you.

Bro: Nateys in kitchen. Is willing to talk.

The thought that you don’t want to wake up Piotr is the only reason you don’t sprint out of the room –though you do fly down the stairs.

Wade meets you at the bottom, his mouth set into a deep grimace. “He’s not happy.”

“What did I do?” you ask, borderline panicking. “I’ve been replaying everything in my head over and over, and I can’t think of anything.”

“I know. And I know you didn’t mean anything malicious, but…” He sighs. “He’s hurt. And you need to go make it right –or as right as you can.”

You do your best to fight back the tears that are already stinging your eyes and nod. “Okay. I will.”

Wade gives you a brief, reassuring hug, then nudges you towards the kitchen. “Go on. He’s waiting.”

You can see Nathan seated at the counter, stripping and cleaning one of his guns (he’s put old newspapers down on the counter, which you know Piotr will be grateful for come morning).

He doesn’t look up at you when he walks in.

It takes you nearly three minutes to realize he isn’t going to speak, either; you have to start this. You take a deep breath and clear your throat. “Wade said you were willing to talk things out?”

Nathan just lets out an affirmative grunt.

You scowl in an effort to hold back tears and clench your fists. “Look, Nathan, whatever I did, I’m sorry. But I can’t make this right if you don’t tell me how I hurt you.”

“Nothing to make right,” Nathan bites out as he cleans part of his pistol with more force than necessary. “It’s your choice to make.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up. “Wade said you wanted to talk, you haven’t said otherwise, so talk. I’m not going to apologize for every single thing I can think of in hopes that something will stick.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he spits out, mouth screwing into a pained frown. “I get it. I’m just not a part of your family.”

Your eyes go wide. “What? That’s not—”

The jet.

You’d given everyone on the jet a designation in your “family” –except Nathan.

You’d be smacking yourself upside the head if it wasn’t so obvious how upset he is over all of this.

“Nathan –I didn’t mean—”

“You don’t have to explain it. I understand.”

“No, Nathan, you’ve always been my family—”

“Don’t just lump me under some umbrella term,” he snarls. “I don’t need your fucking pity.”

“Nathan, just shut up and listen for one fucking minute!” you snap, louder than you ought to at this hour. “We’re okay,” you tack on when you hear Wade’s footsteps run towards the kitchen. “We’re fine.”

The footsteps stop, but don’t retreat in the opposite direction.

You sigh wearily and look at Nathan –who’s borderline glaring at you. “You’re like a dad to me, Nathan.” You see his eyes widen at the admission, and quickly move on so you can finish everything you want to say before he can lay into you for tarnishing his daughter’s memory and future existence like you are. “You’re everything I wanted my biological father to be. You’ve been with me on this journey practically every damn step of the way. There is no possible way for me to express just how grateful and thankful I am for your kindness and support and wisdom. If it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t have gotten out of that jet tonight.”

Nathan just stares at you when you have to pause to wipe your face, expression shocked.

“I know you have Hope,” you say, smiling sadly. “And there’s no way in hell I would ever try to step in on her memory or the bond you have with her. Just because you’re my family doesn’t mean I’m supposed to be yours –not like this, anyway.” You spread your arms in a shrug. “And I’ve come to terms with that. I’m okay with that. I know how much you love Hope; I can’t grudge that for even a single second.”

There are tears coming out of Nathan’s human eye that he doesn’t bother to wipe away. He just stares at you, borderline entranced.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t loop you into everything better on the jet,” you apologize. “I should’ve made a point to include you –called you a grandpa or something, I don’t know—but honestly, I was too strung out on adrenaline to even think of it in the moment. I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I’m sorry that you did.” You sniff loudly and take in a shaky breath. “I’ve done all I can do… and I think I’m just gonna go to bed now.”

You barely make it two steps towards the hall outside the kitchen before Nathan darts around the counter, grabs you by the arm, and pulls you into a massive hug.

You latch onto him, shocked.

“I can only hope,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “That Hope will turn out even half as kind and as decent as you are now.”

Your lower lip starts trembling in earnest, and you have to bury your face in his shoulder to keep from losing it.

“And I would be honored,” he adds. “To be your dad and call you my kid.”

You let out a little sob and cling to him harder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know, it’s okay. We’re okay.”

The two of you stand there for a while, just holding each other and crying.

When you do part, Wade’s leaning against the kitchen doorframe, looking genuinely misty-eyed—

And further back in the hall is Piotr, looking half-awake at best and adorkably confused. “What is going on?”

“Good stuff, babe,” you reassure him, smiling even as you wipe your cheeks dry. “All good stuff, I promise.”

Nathan nods, agreeing. “We got it all worked out.” He squeezes your shoulder. “Go get some rest, kiddo.”

“Yeah, okay. Love you, dad.” Your voice breaks, and you almost start crying all over again.

Nathan almost does too, if his expression is anything to go by, and he pulls you into another hug. “Love you too, kid.”

A few tears do leak out when he kisses the top of your head, though.

He pats you on the back and lets you go a few moments later. “Go sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Wade trades spots with you as you walk towards Piotr, murmuring something in Nathan’s ear about “told you that was it” as he hugs his boyfriend.

Piotr’s smiling now, seemingly having put the pieces together. He kisses your forehead gently. “Ready for bed, myshka?”

“Yeah.” You yawn. “Will you carry me?”

He chuckles fondly and scoops you into his arms. “Konechno.”

You rest your head against his shoulder and let out a sigh that’s equal parts relief and happiness.

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #nathan summers x wade wilson #cablepool #the angst is so good in this one #like i made myself cry while writing it #also this is the reason i did the found family series in the first place #so i'm hella excited over this fic #deadpool fanfiction #x men fanfiction

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utterlyhopeful-fics · 6 years

Text

Prospect- Part II

Second part of Anon request: And she says “ I see you got the life you wanted” and points to your kutte, and you don’t know that Nestor is behind and he heard and then later you and him have a massive argument about it and you resolve it. (Sorry it’s so long I’ve had this idea in my head for ages)

Prospect- Part I

Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: flangst, language (my MO)

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

“I guess now is as good a time as ever. I’m here with the boys..give me a sec.”

Y/N reached for her phone locating it in her jean pocket and texted Ezekiel; “Going to be later than planned. Go without me and catch up later. Don’t be mad.” Hitting send and praying she wouldn’t pay for her idiotic decisions.

Her short blonde tresses whipped around her glasses as the wind picked up its agitation making sure its presence was known. Y/N continuously found herself in awe of the glorious California weather and just how much her mood depended on such predications.

Her phone obnoxiously buzzed interrupting her swirling thoughts as she saw Ez’s name pop up on the screen. ‘Be careful amiga. It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.’

Y/N’s smile could light up a room if she allowed it to grace her gorgeous features more often, but it was a mannerism that came over time, with trust and due diligence. Nestor glanced a peep her way, eliciting his own smirk as she moved to put her phone away, returning her attention back to Nestor.

“Soo…”

“I believe you were the one that wanted to talk Nestor, so consider this your one shot.”

“Did you mean what you said to Emily? And, please no more bullshit, no more hiding your whiplash emotions. Just tell me the truth.”

“The truth or what you want to hear? Those are two very different conversations.”

“I don’t know why you feel the need to put on this tough biker chick role as of late but drop the act sweetheart. I’ve caressed every inch of your skin. I’ve been inside you. I’m also the guy foolishly still in love with you.”

Her jaw fell slightly ajar, just enough to let him know he was beginning to break through her thickened layers she had adapted to building over their time apart. Her cracks slowly revealing a resemblance to the woman he used to be so fond of.

“It isn’t that easy anymore Ness. I can’t just word vomit my feelings for you without repercussions. I’m a Mayan and you’re Miguel Galindo’s head bitch. We are essentially a fucked up modern-day story of Romeo and Juliet. Even if I—even if I told you how I truly felt, in what alternate reality could we manage a life together without erupting further chaos to those around us?”

“Glad to see some things haven’t changed with you, always caring about making sure others were satisfied before making yourself happy. Your life motto.”

“You should too, it’s all part of a well-oiled machine called life.”

Y/N fidgeted with her hands unsure of the next words to leave her lips. Her shaky breath the only sound between the two.

“You know, I’m not the innocent girl you remember. I’ve had to make life altering decisions while you were off killing in the name of the cartel. Every action has a blow back. We will never be able to pick up where we left off. I don’t even know that girl anymore Nestor. So, please don’t expect me to always be good and kind and loving. I can guarantee you there will be numerous times when I will be cold and ruthless and unbelievable difficult to understand.”

“You think you can scare me away because you grew a fucking backbone? If only you knew half the shit I’m ordered to attend to on a daily basis. I’m terrified you of all people would actually judge me, and that’s the kind of criticism that would start to destroy me.”

Y/N mutely shook her head in agreeance, both petrified of falling from the pedestal they had been accustomed to, but life was a constant adaption of change and not entirely for the better.

“Nestor, I’m exhausted. I’m exhausted of trying to be stronger than I really feel.” Her voice quivered, she hadn’t admitted her feelings out loud in quite some time, and long ago she entrenched them into the deepest depths of her heart hiding the key in the process. Y/N disconnected her heart from her head, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for rewiring just yet.

He stepped closer to her reaching for her hand, intertwining their fingers as one. Nestor forget how delicately soft her skin was, how perfect they fit together, even after so much lost time.

“We don’t have to rush into anything. Let me get to know you, all over again.”

“If we do this, and I’m not saying I agree; we can’t tell anyone, and I mean it Nestor Oceteva.”

“It’ll be our little secret, for now.”

Their hearts simultaneously beat like a thunderous drum finally in sync after their time away from each other.

“I’m quite fond of you. Please don’t make me regret this, Y/N.”

“Just as long as you keep up your end of the bargain as well. It takes two to tango, right?”

“God, that’s something I missed doing with you.”

“What?”

“Dancing. We were so synchronized. I missed hearing your boisterous laugh during those stupid midnight dance parties when you couldn’t sleep, or your idiotic rain dances, but mostly just having you in my arms.”

“Well, what’s stopping you now?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

Nestor gravitated her direction, his arms easily finding her waist as he pulled her closer to where she belonged; his heart. She unknowingly sighed as her body relaxed at Nestor’s touch.

Y/N placed her chin atop his shoulder and closed her eyes, hiding in the crook of his neck. She missed him and if only for a moment, this would be how she eternally memorized him.

The fleeting peacefulness was abruptly thwarted as deafening lightning ignited the cloudy sky above. The pitter-patter of her pulse quickened as she beamingly grinned. Droplets of rain silently crashed against the pavement, but they remained intimately linked.

Y/N tilted her head toward the clouds, surrendering to the atmosphere surrounding the now unoccupied street. The water brought a refreshing sensation to their heated skin.

“Well how about that..”

“You and the rain are seriously two damn peas in a pod. Are you a mutant or something?”

“Maybe. But right now, I’m just a woman standing in front of a man wondering when he will kiss her. She’s been waiting for this moment for a good chunk of time now.”

“If it’s what the lady wants, I am a people pleaser. Well, to a very small pool of people, but unquestionably for you.”

Nestor leaned in closing any remaining distance before shutting his eyes and connecting his lips with the silky pair right within his grasp. Y/N kissed him with a fierceness she hadn’t felt in years as they passionately drowned in one another.

Y/N’s lips disconnected meeting his blistering gaze momentarily; “Let’s get out of here.”

“Or we could stay a little longer.”

Nestor found her lips again, silencing her scattered brain as they finally stood as one for the first time in a very long time. Neither was sure of what their future entailed, but this moment was theirs, and theirs only, and that was worth breaking any rule.

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Requests Open!

#mayans mc #mayans #mayans mc x reader #my writing #nestor x reader #nestor oceteva x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fx #flangst #nestor oceteva #part 2 #prospect

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rkmg · 5 years

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〈♦〉JUNE 30TH, 2019 → kim mingyu. royal boys acting opportunity. ↳ marius pontmercy scene from the play les misérables. ↳ we are the republic monologue. ( 00:02 - 2:02 )

on that wednesday when they were first called out of practice for a special announcement, mingyu felt his heart rate increase to about ten times as fast as usual. it was odd when things happened out of the ordinary, and being a trainee, it felt so much more terrifying. he was both excited and scared to hear what the news was, which just left him a big ball of trembling nerves by the time he was actually seated in the auditorium.

truthfully speaking, everything got a lot worse instead of better the moment that one of the coaches began speaking. it was almost like they wanted to play tricks with the boys, not allowing them the comfort and satisfaction of knowing what was going on. all mingyu could focus on was the fact that whatever he heard, he was supposed to keep a secret. that didn’t bother him, however. it’s not like he actually had any real friends outside from another royal boy, so there wasn’t a risk there. still, the seriousness of it all make him uneasy.

much to mingyu’s delight, some of his worries are put to rest after an unnecessary pause that causes him to feel even sicker, once it’s stated that none of this is regarding a debut. although he wanted that to happen eventually, obviously, this didn’t feel like the best time. he had so much going on right now and he is convinced he would literally lose his mind and work himself into the ground if... he had to think about that. this was better. he could relax a bit now, nothing was going to be as horrible as he originally imagined.

another thing that makes mingyu feel a hell of a lot better is discovering that this won’t be anything else variety-related. he hasn’t even finished this month and he already felt like he never wanted to try to make himself appealing again. he felt like he was being tossed into the deep end with no actual preparation or advice. of course, that wasn’t totally true given the endless training that he’s met with on a daily basis, but that was beside the point.

once he hears what is actually going to be happening, he feels mixed emotions. perhaps the biggest is disappointment, though not at what he’s being made to do... it was really directed at himself. acting was something that was so important to him, even if he hasn’t had the opportunity to do it himself. it was a dream of his and something he aspired to get better at... yet he’s always so busy. now, he has the chance to do something involving it, which would make him so incredibly grateful and happy, but he knows he doesn’t have what it takes.

after all of the boys were dismissed and sent back to training, mingyu did his best to avoid the conversation topic with anyone. he didn’t want to talk about it or face it, and he especially didn’t want to hear the other boys’ plans of what scene they would be doing. this was something he would just think about obsessively on his own and try not to feel too much bitterness about. it was his own fault, really. he should have expected an opportunity like this to arise eventually. it would have been smart for him to take it upon himself to get better and sharpen his abilities, chasing his dreams of wanting to acquire the talent... it was on him that he didn’t.

for a while, he told himself that it wasn’t something that he should even do. he practically decided against it, knowing that he wouldn’t get anything out of it. he would just be wasting everyone else’s time, so what would even be the point? but, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that it wouldn’t matter, he kept hearing that voice in the back of his head that would remind him that “initiative is about as important as your actual talent.” what if he just skipped this opportunity and it came back to bite him later? he really didn’t want to unintentionally doom future mingyu... then he would think about this exact moment and regret it forever.

even if nothing came of it, mingyu had to give it a shot. it was hard for him to believe that he was worth all of the added effort, but he couldn’t just do it for himself. this was for won and for his mom, too. they would want him to take any opportunity that he has to both shine and get himself ahead. it was bad enough that he was so far behind in the first place... he felt like he had a lot of catching up to do in comparison to the other royal boys. perhaps he would make a total fool out of himself, but at least it would look good to the coaches that he tried his best.

as soon as he was on his laptop and trying to figure out a scene, he felt like giving up again. it was such a quick switch from optimism to pessimism that it practically gave him whiplash. it was then that he really processed that he had no idea where to start. this was something he wanted to do on his own, since he didn’t want to have to share the failure with anyone if he messed up, but he wasn’t familiar enough with dramas or movies to even come up with a solid idea. frustration took over him rather quickly, both inwardly and outwardly. in defeat, he leaned forward and put his head on his desk, though it was there that his line of sight aligned with the les misérables book on his shelf... so then he wondered...

clearly, he wouldn’t be able to do any singing. for one, that wasn’t part of the plan and he wasn’t sure if he would be penalized, but also... he was just a really shitty singer. still, it was a play and productions were typically riddled with monologues. it took him a while to find the perfect one for him to perform and he wasn’t totally sure if it’s what the coaches were looking for, however... they never told him that he couldn’t do something from a play.

mingyu did feel like he had a little bit of an advantage choosing something from his favorite story ever written since he was already so familiar with it. he didn’t know the scene word for word yet, but he knew bits and pieces and it wasn’t hard for him to connect the dots. when he was younger, he liked to pretend that he was an actor and he would stand in front of a mirror, examining his expressions and trying to make himself believable. since then, he has given up on trying so hard, but it was still a good tactic. being able to see himself meant knowing when he was making mistakes. it also just helped to think about the character for a long time and picturing yourself in their shoes. you are no longer quoting the character, you have to become them. their struggles are your struggles, their joy is your joy. you have to understand why they feel the way that they feel... think about their motives, their desires, their fears...

in this particular scene, marius was angry. he was angry and tired because basic freedoms were being taken away from people, innocents just trying to write and learn being arrested because of the king and his laws.

mingyu practiced religiously, more than he should have been for the monthly evaluations. for the first time in a long time, he was so genuinely excited for something. still, his brain was cruel and wanted him to believe that it was going to be pointless and that he was just going to take up more of the coaches’ time than necessary, but he had no choice but fight those intrusive and invasive thoughts. for once, he just wanted to be able to look forward to and enjoy something that was so important to him. he couldn’t allow himself to ruin this.

the 30th finally rolled around, and mingyu was so ready for the evaluations to be over and done with so he would finally get to perform his scene and stop thinking about it so much. it was constantly on his mind, even when he desperately needed to be focusing on something more important at that particular moment in time. needless to say, he was over the moon after he was eliminated from the running man game and everything for that month finally came to a close... well, everything except for acting out his scene.

he imagines that this is similar to what an audition must feel like. he never has experienced one for himself, but he doesn’t picture it being vastly different. clearly, he wasn’t auditioning for anything here, or if he was, he didn’t know about it... but it gave off the aura that he has always viewed for hopeful actors looking to land a role in something that they’ve been wanting for an extremely long time.

once he was in the room with those he was meant to perform the scene in front of, he greeted them with a smile and a soft, nervous laugh. but, he knew he was going to have to quickly shift from being kim mingyu to marius pontmercy if he wanted to do well. he took a moment, trying to ignore the shaking of his hands and the fast beating of his heart, closing his eyes and imagining his life as no longer as his own, but as the secretly wealthy boy that fights for freedom and love. he becomes someone that is greater than himself, then begins when he is instructed to.

“we can’t strike. why not? because it’s against the law to strike! the king has declared that everything is a crime! writing is a crime. two weeks ago, the police destroyed the galaty, the worker's newspaper. they smashed the press. they burned over two thousand newspapers but that didn't satisfy the king...” he was already beginning to raise his voice as he spoke, getting into the part and feeling himself feel frustrated and angry just as marius did. he felt as though he was talking to a crowd of people, trying to both inform, warn, and rally, instead of the coaches that were actually carefully watching him.

“three days ago at a student meeting, a peaceful meeting, soldiers broke it up and arrested two of my friends. writing... talking... going to class, speaking out is a crime.” at this point, it was too early for him to know how it was going, though it’d be a lie to say that it was even on his mind at all. the only thing that mingyu was focused on was what he was supposed to say, as well as getting across the emotions that he felt. he wanted them to be just as angry and upset... he needed them to feel what he felt so that they may stand with him.

his expression shifted from one that was merely frustrated to one that was both angry and hurt. he sorrowfully shook his head, almost as if he hated to admit what he was going to say next. his volume went down several notches, almost as if he was pitifully and sadly whispering his next line. “being poor is a crime...” then, his anger intensified once again, indicating how upsetting all of this was for him. “being poor is the worst crime of all. and if you commit these crimes, you are condemned for life. our government has no mercy... no pity... no forgiveness. and there's no work for us. and because there's no work, our children are starving.” after that line, he paused for the dramatic effect that he was going for, taking just a moment to harshly breathe, though he never broke character once. it was all just a part of the act.

“tell me... why are we powerless to save the people we love? all of you know. tell me — why? the king betrayed us. we were promised the vote, do we have it? do we have the vote?! where is the republic our fathers died for?!” after he shouted the question, he angrily scoffed, shaking his head in disappointment.

there is a short pause as he waits for it all to sink in, giving those watching a moment before continuing with a subtle smile. it’s hopeful and full of determination... desire for a better future. “it is here, my brothers. it lives here in our heads. but most of all... best of all, it's here in our hearts. in our hearts — we are the republic!”

once the scene has ended, there is a visible shift in mingyu’s expression as he transitions from playing the part to being back to himself. it’s only then that he can fully process what’s just happened and how he feels slightly embarrassed. a large grin forms on his face, his cheeks heating up and probably reddening. he laughs just a little as he bows, expressing his gratitude with a quiet “thank you.”

#rkrbact #; solo.#( love my son )#( love his love of acting and les mis )#( i worked harder on that than i have on a solo in a while )#wc: 2214

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ouraidengray4 · 6 years

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Strange but True: Barre Class Cured My Chronic Headaches

I hate group exercise. As a longtime fan of solo running (which I find clears my head), the idea of stepping into a class with choreographed movement, music set to a remixed beat, and (most problematically) other people has always sounded completely unappealing. Which is why, as dramatic as it sounds, I signed up for a Pure Barre class last February out of pure desperation.

A post-birth pelvic injury had left me unable to run, and I was determined to find something that would help get me back to a place where I could hit the pavement again. If someone had told me Prancercising would help (and yes, that's a thing), I probably would have tried that too.