#I am exactly what your parents warn you against becoming Jesus
Text
treat you better
Summary: Caught between playing the girlfriend of Bucky's younger brother and the unexpected allure of Bucky's genuine affection, you don't know what to do.
Pairing: (fake) boyfriend's brother!Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings: age gap (r is 26, Bucky is 38/39), teasing, pet names, language, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 3.7K
story masterlist
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: This story will have around 4 parts, so this is just the beginning. And I also want to thank @marvelouslizzie and @lavenderhaze967 for their support!
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
It’s hard to ignore how loudly he chews or how some water drips down his chin as he drinks between bites. For someone educated well, he has no manners.
“Come on, eat faster. He’s gonna come any second.”
You drop your fork on the plate and give him a look. As if! “I am not gonna do anything like that.”
He is his brother, not the devil. And he actually seemed pretty nice when you met earlier. The fact that William is so scared is funny.
“You don’t ever listen to me.”
“I wonder why.” Your sarcastic answer gets a sigh out of him before he stands up, throwing a napkin on the plate.
“I’ll take a walk.”
“And? Do you want my approval?” You literally couldn’t care less what he does or doesn’t. He’s annoying.
“No, I told you in case he comes down...”
You can’t imagine dealing with this version of him for days, or however long The Devil decides to stay. You snort. “Go ahead, take a walk. Take three walks, I can handle myself.”
He leaves without saying anything else, and you smile, scrolling on your Instagram feed. Fucking finally!
You don’t know how your families considered this a good idea. You are close to hitting him every day, but it seems like things only become worse and worse. You just wish you could just run away and never come back.
“Do you mind if I sit here?”
You look up, jumping. It must be ridiculous to be so shocked since he’s the only one who could come here since William left. You let the phone down and wave to the chair in front of you.
“Please, this is your house.”
The Devil gives you a polite smile. Manners... at least one brother has them. “But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“You won’t eat me, right?”
He gives you a look you can’t exactly decode, and that bothers you. You are good at reading people usually.
“No, love, I won’t eat you.” He sits down amused, and you stare at his arms as he reaches for the chicken plate without realizing. He’s... big.
“Bon appetit!” You smile.
“I didn’t say I won’t bite, though.”
You freeze, thinking he is flirting with you for a second. But it’s ridiculous, there’s no way. Everyone spoke so highly of him: how he is always serious, how he’d be against this whole arrangement. No way he’d flirt with his little brother’s girlfriend. “Is the chicken not enough for you?”
He laughs softly, and you can’t help but stare at him a little more. He shaved and has a small cut right under his chin. Jesus, he is really hot! The little dimple, the eyes and that nose...
“Do what do you do?”
“As in for work?”
“Yep.” He empathizes the p in a very childlike way, which makes you wonder even more how old he is. You should totally ask William later.
“I work for my parents’ company,” you whisper ashamed. You always hate when you say that out loud, but, somehow, it feels even more embarrassing now. You can feel his eyes on you, but you don’t look at him.
“What do you do there?”
“Basic HR work.”
“Is the payment that low?”
You snort. “What?”
“You sounded, so I assumed...”
“It is a little low, not gonna lie. But I mean, no nepo baby judgement…?” You hesitate because you realize you don’t remember his name. Fuck! You and your bad memory.
“What? Why are you blushing?” He leans in, placing his elbows on the table to get closer to you.
How horrible can this situation get?
“I just... can I ask something?”
“I don’t know, love, can you?”
You roll your eyes. You know what? He deserves it.
“What was your name again?”
He doesn’t seem surprised or bothered by your question.
“Full name? James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky. Should I write it down in case you forget?”
He gently takes out a pen out of his front pocket and grabs your hand. You tremble a little as he starts to actually write his name on your wrist. The letters get a little smudged, but they’re still clear.
Holy fuck...
He’s warm, but not too warm, so you wait for him to let you go.
“Do you always carry pens around?”
“Only on special occasions.” He winks and gets back to eating, letting the pen on the table.
“How old are you?” You ask before you can change your mind as you keep staring at your wrist. He looks in his early 30s, and since he’s the oldest one, it would make sense.
“Didn’t Will tell you?”
You blush again. “You can see my memory isn’t the best.”
He sighs, suddenly shy and reserved, and you wonder if this is somehow a weak spot. But how would age be a weak spot for a man like this?
“Old.” He smiles. “Thirty-eight.”
You try not to look affected as your eyes drop instantly on his left hand. No wedding band.
And he notices.
“He didn’t tell you I’m single, either?”
You take a few slices of cucumber and eat them fast. “Why would he?”
“I’m his brother.”
You throat feels dry as you nervously swallow. “And I am his girlfriend...”
Bucky nods and immediately starts eating.
“That’s all?” You ask. “No threat not to hurt your brother? No background questions?”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
“I would have guessed twenty-five.”
You snort. “Really? I was told I look younger than that.”
Bucky shrugs in response. “I assumed you’ve been working for a while, and my brother likes them his age or older.” He pours himself a glass of water, and you watch him drink without any shame, not even caring if he notices. You’re already flushed, and he’s a good view.
“I guess I fit the standard.”
He bites his lip while placing the glass down and shakes his head. “Nope, actually you don’t, this is why it’s really interesting.” He smiles. “How did you two meet?”
“The office. He came with his... your dad and we met at an event,” you answer instantly. Your parents have already made up the story for you, and you had to practice it a few times to make it sound genuine, which was a real struggle.
“Was it love at first sight?”
You snort. “That doesn’t exist.”
“Attraction?”
You try to subtly take a deep breath and pray you’ll sound as convincing as you could. “Look, he seemed like a nice guy, good looking and smart. And he asked me out-”
“He asked you out?” His eyes widen in sheer astonishment. “He always waits for girls to ask him out.”
This is when you snap. What is this? An interrogation?
“And? He asked me out. People make exceptions sometimes, Mr...” you pretend you forgot his name again before you look at your wrist. “Bucky.”
“I understand. My bad, didn’t want to make you mad.”
You puff because his tone in everything but apologetic. “I am not mad!”
“No, obviously. Just like you didn’t pretend you don’t remember my name a second ago.”
You bite your cheek annoyed. “Do you not have something more important to do than this?” You gesture between you two.
Not a smart move, but you are exposed anyway.
“But this,” he copies your hands moves. “is fun. And I am just getting to know my little brother’s girl. Since we’ll live together and stuff.”
What?
“You plan on staying?”
Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Of course.” He smiles. “Where is William? I want to know more about how he asked you out.”
*
You can’t say you’ve been avoiding William, but you’re not necessarily enjoying his company. Since Bucky came, he’s been like a bomb, scared, annoyed, always suggesting you to move in his room because his brother will notice, but you brushed him off constantly.
Unfortunately, you can’t tell him to go away now, too, as he drinks coffee in his gazebo.
“Do you want to go out? For a walk or lunch,” he asks, his voice carrying a hopeful note
“No, thanks.” You don’t intend to sound rude, but it comes out like this anyway.
His face falls, a subtle disappointment etched across his features, but he tries to hide it by taking a sip of his coffee. Instantly, a pang of guilt hits you.
“Look, I’m sorry, I just... I just don’t feel like going out.” With you.
“Well, you should at least try to make an effort, we should be seen together, you know?” he remarks, his tone slightly reproachful. You nod, realizing he must be also pressured by his family the same way yours pressures you.
“I understand. I assume they put pressure on you.”
He sighs. “Of course they do, but like I think it’s a good idea.”
“What’s a good idea?”
You know it’s Bucky not only by the way William stiffens, but you can also easily recognize his voice, and it’s hard to ignore how attractive you find it.
“To go out more often,” you quickly say, avoiding his eyes. “I told him he should have fun since work has been stressful.”
“What about you?” He casually drops on the chair between you two and takes a bite from his sandwich.
“What about her?” William asks, , his tension evident in his voice.
“Don’t you need some stress relief?”
“I’m alright.” You finally look properly at him as you speak. He’s wearing a white tank top and his disheveled hair adds to the casual allure. He’s so well-proportioned...
“Good.” He smiles and turns to William. “What’s wrong, punk?”
“Just work, you know? Business, you wouldn’t understand.”
You and Bucky snort.
“Sure, buddy, I wouldn’t understand.”
“Are you having siblings time? Should I leave?” you ask, hoping for a positive response.
“Babe, no need.”
You try not to cringe at the way the word babe sounds coming from him and force yourself to give him a polite smile.
“Please, babe, no problem.” You stand up waving, toward Bucky. “Bye.”
Their brotherly time didn’t last long, though. You take a short shower, and as you finish dressing up, you hear a knock on your door.
“You can come in.”
You expect to see William's face when the door cracks, but no, it's not him at all.
“Hi.”
You freeze.
“H-hi.”
Fuck, what will you tell him now?
“Trouble in paradise?”
“What? No. Uhm...” you look around. “What happened?”
“You sleep here, right?”
“Yep.”
He leans his back against the wall, and you can't help but notice how good he looks in those shorts. Jesus, it's like you haven't seen a man in your life.
“Interesting.” He laughs.
“What’s so funny?” You cross your arms, annoyed. He thinks he’s superior or what?
“You are telling me you two have been together for less than six months and you sleep here?”
The judgement and amusement in his voice piss you off even more, as if the situation you are in isn’t bad enough.
“Yes, and?”
“And?” Bucky comes suddenly closer to you. “Are you seriously asking that?”
“Yes! I don’t see what’s your fucking problem. How does where we sleep concern you?”
“Can’t a man be curious?”
Fuck your curiosity!
“What if we didn’t wanna sleep together now and wait... does that make us less of a couple?” You let out your anger by screaming at him. You don’t think you’ve said anything more ridiculous than that because, sure, you respect everyone who wants to wait, but that’s not you. There's no way you'd get engaged or marry a guy without knowing what your sex life would be like. No way!
“I didn’t say that, but I know my brother, and he is not this type of person.”
You let a deep breath, finding it hard to take your eyes off his lips.
“What if I am?”
He doesn't answer you, simply moving his right hand to his back pocket and taking out a small perfume, then handing it to you. "I think this belongs to you."
Shit!
“Yes, thank you!”
“So you slept in my bed.”
The way he says it makes it sound like you had sex with him or something. But it still leaves you breathless.
You take the perfume from his hand. “Don’t worry, I changed the sheets.”
“See you at dinner, love.” He snorts, turning a little more toward you before opening the door. “You got taste, though. It smells wonderful.”
*
Maybe it’s the hunger or the lack of sleep. Otherwise, why would this make you angry?
“You look very well.” You roll your eyes as you imitate him before taking a sip of your water. Fuck him for coming here and disturbing you. It was enough you see him every morning and after work.
You hear a knock, then the door opens as soon as you put your bottle down. He didn’t even wait.
“Hi, love. How are you?” A few heads turn toward him and then you, and you groan.
“I’m well, thanks. Why are you here?”
Bucky shakes his head. “This is not a nice welcome.” And then he notices everyone. “Hello.”
You hear a few ‘hi’s, but he only focuses on you.
“Who are you waiting for?” You ask, and your thoughts immediately dart to Dana. He complimented her earlier, after all.
“My dad.”
You roll your eyes. “Fine, keep it a secret. I don’t care.”
“I’m serious.” He snorts. “What has gotten you so worked up? Did you eat your chocolate bar today?”
You puff, trying to keep your annoyance under control. “What’s this question? Are you my mom?”
You can't lie, though. The fact that he noticed your daily chocolate bar ritual makes you happy. Today, however, you didn't have time.
“I can be your dad.”
That makes you gasp.
“Bucky!” you whisper, and he leans in. “We are working here.”
“And?”
“And go away, you disturb us.”
Bucky rolls his eyes and gets behind your back, dragging your chair away from the desk.
“Barnes!”
Jessica laughs behind you. “Such an older brother behavior.” she says casually, and you frown. You don’t want people to consider him your older brother. Well, it’s obvious why they do, but it still bothers you.
“I need you to come with me.”
You sigh. “Don’t you see I am busy?”
“Come onnn!”
You tell Jessica you’ll be right back and manage to take your phone with you before Bucky drags you by the arm to the hallway. Dana looks up, surprised, but this time he doesn’t even turn his head toward her, guiding you to his dad’s office. Dana looks up, surprised, but this time he doesn't even turn his head toward her, guiding you to his dad's office.
“You brought me here to be your babysitter? You are 38, not 8. I am sure you can wait patiently for your daddy.”
He closes the door, and you try to control your breathing. Why does he make you blush so much? It’s been one month since you two met, and he still has this power over you.
“You have a big sassy mouth, love, that is for sure.”
You cross your hands. “And?”
“And what?”
“You won’t even deny you brought me here cause you were bored?”
“Nope. Why would I?”
And there he is, getting closer to you little by little. You have to fight the urge to step back.
“Instead you talk about how big my mouth is...” you murmur and he snorts.
“Quite a big mouth for someone with thin lips.”
Well, that is a low blow. You don’t even have thin-thin lips.
“You’re an asshole.” You try to leave quickly, but he stops you instantly, realizing that made you mad.
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way at all. You have a spark.”
“I am working. I do actually work, Bucky. It doesn’t matter this is my family’s company.” You try not to yell, but it’s hard. “I get you’re bored, but-”
“I am sorry.”
“For what?” You voice is a whisper, as you’re still trying to calm down. You’re surprised he apologized so fast.
“For being like a douche. It’s the opposite, I wanted your company because you are really nice and smart. I love our conversations. And you having a big mouth means to me you have an opinion and limits.” He takes your hand and squeezes it.
As he speaks, you can't help but feel a mixture of warmth and confusion. His sincerity catches you off guard, and the tension between you begins to shift. Maybe, just maybe, there's more beneath the surface of his teasing and provocation.
You nod. Maybe you overreacted, he never said anything offensive to you. And you appreciate his company in that house.
“It’s okay, I understand. I am surprised you are here, though.”
He doesn’t let go of you hand, so you don’t either.
“He said he has an offer for the office renovation.” He shrugs. “I cannot refuse without talking first. It wouldn’t be fair.”
You want to answer him, tease and maybe fish for more, but you hear the voices right outside the office and you let go of his hand immediately. As if it burned you, as if you were doing something forbidden.
William steps inside first, followed by his dad and your dad, surprisingly.
Bucky immediately gives you a look and takes a step back.
“You came!” His father welcomed him before turning to you. “Thanks for bringing him to my office.”
You realize this is your clue to go and you slowly walk to the door, intentionally ignoring your father. What shocks you is William grabbing your hand, the same hand Bucky touched before, and kissing your cheek.You realize this is your cue to go, and you slowly walk to the door, intentionally ignoring your father. What shocks you is William grabbing your hand, the same hand Bucky touched before, and then kissing your cheek.
“Thanks, babe.”
You have to clench both of your fists not to punch him in the face, refusing to answer him. You don’t know what bothers you more: the fact that he touched you so casually and called you babe again or that he did this shit in front of your families, and more important his brother.
You feel Bucky’s eyes all over your back and face and you can’t help but turn to look at him. He’s expressionless.
You shake your head. What did you expect?
You get back to your office a little grumpy and upset. Jessica immediately asks you if you’re okay, and you brush it off. Fuck your family, fuck Bucky, and fuck his brother.
But the meeting is surprisingly short since you have Bucky back at your desk fifteen minutes later.
You just can’t take a break, can you?
“What?”
“Shouldn’t you have lunch?” He looks around to emphasize his words, and you roll your eyes. You know everyone left but you.
“I have to finish a few tasks. Why?”
“Your boyfriend left the meeting halfway through cause he was hungry.”
You almost gag. You’ve never hated that word more in your life, but you can’t let him know that.
“And?”
“What do you mean and? Why are you not having lunch with him?”
“Because I have tasks to do!” You snap, irritate, while looking him in the eye. You obviously don’t want to talk about it, but he continues, seemingly unfazed.
“Is he gonna bring you some food?”
“No, we didn’t even talk about it. Can you leave me alone now?”
You are so close to crying for no fucking reason. You can’t let anyone see you like this.
“Prick! He should have waited for you.” He strokes his chin as he speaks, clearly annoyed with his brother. “Want to come with-”
“I’m fine. Had my chocolate bar.” You interrupt him, your voice steady despite the emotional storm within. Finally, he takes the hint.
“Okay, love, I understand. I’ll leave you alone. See you home.” He smiles politely and leaves, giving you the space you need.
Alone in your office, you let out a shaky breath, your hands covering your face as you start sobbing. It’s really touching how understanding Bucky is, even if he’s teasing you. It’s a precious reminder that, amidst the chaos, there's someone who actually cares about your well-being.
*
You wait for William to return from his lunch break, and as soon as you see him, you drag him to his office quickly
“Easy! It hurts.”
“Good, it’s supposed to hurt!”
“What did I do?” He genuinely asks.
“You fucking touched me. You kissed my cheek. Did I allow you?”
“What?” He raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t remember seeing you so angry before.
“I asked you when I gave you permission to put your hands on me!”
“I’m supposed to be your boy-”
“But you are not my fucking boyfriend! You don’t have the option to touch me unless I let you by telling you that you can. And you don’t even have to display a shitty facade because guess what? He doesn’t care.”
“Look, I didn’t mean to...”
“You didn’t mean to what? Get in my space? Take advantage of the situation?” The bitterness in your tone echoes your frustration. “You’re just a man, that’s what you do.”
“Not all-”
You laugh humorlessly, not even a little surprised. “Not all men, right? Well, I heard that one before. But you are officially in all-men category.”
You leave like a storm, letting the door open, and before you can get back to your desk, Dana calls your name.
“Hi, what happened?” You try to sound calm.
“You got a delivery and a note.” She hands them both to you and you can’t help but ask:
“A note?”
Who writes notes anymore?
“Yes.”
You take them from her desk, but you don’t enter your office. You want to read the note first, without Jessica’s eyes on you.
If you don’t eat, I’m gonna punish you... with my presence.
So think twice before refusing :)
You almost cry again right there in the middle of the hallway. Fuck him! Just fuck him!
How are you supposed to stop thinking about him when he does this?
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#boyfriend's brother!bucky barnes#fake dating#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes au#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#bucky fanfiction#bucky barnes smut#my stories#my fanfics#sebastian stan
755 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! For the send a number ask game:
10, 19, 24, 43, & 92?
Hey!! Thank you for the ask!! ☀️
10.) Best thing to say in an elevator of strangers?
“Now...before we get started, would anyone like to get out?”
19.) Favorite song to belt out at the top of your lungs when you’re alone?
“Teenagers” by My Chemical Romance. I do this in the car a lot, since this is my last year of being a teenager!
24.) What do you typically wear to formal events?
Currently, my go-to has been this super pretty denim dress which is just so 🤌🏻 if I can say so myself. I pair it with dark leggings and formal boots!
43.) What time do you usually go to bed?
Well, it is currently 11:05pm—the time I usually go to bed. I’m actually under my covers right now with all the lights off, in the classic “fanfic reading” position on my side. My cat is also sleeping in the crook of my stomach. I’ve been naughty though lately, since redownloading TikTok—staying up to 2:00am last night and such. Shan’t do it again tonight! (hopefully)
92.) What’s something you would get arrested for?
Well...can’t say I’d ever see myself getting caught, but I’ve definitely done my fair share of stupid and illegal things...some I won’t blatantly admit to on here, and although I won’t admit to this publicly either, let’s just say I’ve hypothetically done things that include jumping a fence to trespass/break in, but rest assured—it was for a VERY good cause, and in the best interest of a dog. A bit of property damage there too, but ehhh...like I said; best interest of a dog
#that wonderful dog passed away early this year due to old age#but lived a great life in the end#goddd...#I’m thinking of all the illegal shit I’ve done in my teens#since I’m coming up on 20 years old in a few months#I really fucking jumped the train and yeeted off the rails huh lmao#the more I look back on everything the more my eyes are widening in ‘wtf kid lol’#I am exactly what your parents warn you against becoming Jesus#this is a spin-out to reminisce on#I wish I could tell you guys everything#so many great stories and memories#but like can I even legally share them??#me thinks not#anyways stay in school and away from the bad kids young mutuals xx#xoxo gossip girl
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Friends with Added Benefits
Part one of ?
Warnings - smut / daddy kink / breeding kink
You and Cillian had been working together on Peaky Blinders since the beginning- it had become a FWB situation at the end of Series 4 after a drunken kiss at the wrap party. Both of you had kept it completely secret, hooking up solely while you were filming series 5 and living out your own lives the rest of the year, but what happens when things take an unexpected turn as series 6 begins filming?
A/N - Cillian is single, and has no children. Reader is in her early 30s, and plays Tommy Shelby's wife.
Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby
You sat on the floor of the bathroom and took a deep breath. Now or never y/n... A sudden voice jolted you from your thoughts.
"Y/n, you in there?" What the fuck was he doing here? How did he get into your apartment?
"Sorry, yeah.. I'll be out in a minute..." You flushed the toilet and quickly hurried out of the bathroom.
Cillian greeted you with a warm smile, sat on your sofa with the TV remote in his hand already flicking through the channels.
"You left the door unlocked - came in to make sure you were okay, you seemed a bit off onset today?" He patted the sofa next to him for you to sit down.
"Sorry... Just a bit tired I guess, only been back a day and I'm done already!" He lifted an arm to pull you into and you happily accepted the invitation.
"So series 6 then.. the last one," you sighed, curling your legs over his.
"Yep. Only gotta put up with me for another 16 weeks and you're free to do as you please. Or who you please at least," he kissed the top of your head and chuckled, you feigned your own chuckle in response. You knew this was just a 'filming only hook up', but you couldn't help but feel a bit sad. You'd looked forward to Peaky restarting again the second each series had finished. You knew though, that there was no tying Cillian Murphy down - other women had tried, but he was a happy, carefree bachelor. You'll make the most of the next 16 weeks together and move on.
Before long his fingers made their way over your hips, circling slowly as they crawled over your stomach.
"Does our agreement still stand or do I need to stop?" He whispered, sending a shiver down your spine.. that fucking accent...
"I'm single again, if that's what you're asking me.."
"Again?"
"I was seeing someone.. I ended it a month ago." He pulled back slightly.
"Sorry y/n.. were you with him long?"
"Just a few months, nothing serious it was just a casual type thing. He decided he couldn't compete with Thomas Shelby."
"You told him about us?!"
"No, the rumours have been flying for YEARS Cillian! He wouldn't believe me when I told him it wasn't true.."
"That's because it is true, and you're a terrible liar!" He smirked, before pushing your body down on the sofa, covering it with his own.
"He'd certainly have his work cut out for him wouldn't he?" You smirked back. "You gonna show me what I've been missing Mr Murphy?"
"I absolutely am Miss y/l/n... But let me shower first? I'm still wearing the makeup from earlier and it's pissing me off!" He kissed you lightly on the nose before grabbing one of your towels out the cupboard and heading into the bathroom.
He came out 10 minutes later, towel wrapped round his waist and stood next to the sofa, brow furrowed.
"What's this for y/n?" You looked up and your heart sank. In his hand was the pregnancy test box you'd hidden in your cabinet - clearly not hidden too well.
"Well it isn't for baking cakes Cill..."
"Are you pregnant?"
"I don't know yet, I haven't taken one.."
"Well what are you waiting for? Come on." He took your hand and handed you one of the tests. "Go do it. Now." You couldn't help but laugh at his insistence and went to pee on the stick.
Coming back out with the test in your hand two minutes later, you held it up to show him, tears in your eyes as your chin wobbled. He was pulling his jeans back on as he took the test from you.
"Okay well now I'm confused? It's negative - why are you crying?"
"I'm not crying, I'm fine.." you choked, wiping your eyes on your sleeve.
"Come on, y/n... What's wrong?" He pulled you over to the sofa and sat you down, squeezing your hands, worry written all over his face.
"You wouldn't understand Cillian, just leave it okay?"
"Did you want it to be positive?" You looked into his eyes and burst into tears, nodding. "You wanted his baby?"
"It wasn't that.. Cillian I'm 32 years old. Kinda thought I'd be married with a kid or two by now you know? I'm sorry okay, I'm just being stupid..."
"What's stupid about wanting children of your own?"
"Because I'm never going to have it am I?"
"Says who?" You took a deep breath.
"Look it's crazy okay, I'm just hormonal and crazy..."
"Okay you're not crazy y/n. Pretty sure it's normal to want children and marriage, I'm just an oddball!" He laughed. He'd made no secret of the fact he had no paternal instincts at all.
"Thing is... I don't want marriage. Not even a relationship.. just a baby. Still think I'm normal?"
"You might struggle there y/n.. I don't need to have 'the talk' with you, do I?" He smirked.
"No Cillian I'm well aware.. I was thinking of adoption maybe, or a sperm donor?"
"Admirable for the adoption route. Terrifying for the other one, you could end up with anything..."
"True. Kinda leaning more towards all of that though.. the feeling of carrying my own baby is just.. it's exciting I guess. I'm freaking you out, aren't I?"
"Strangely.. no. In fact, I have an idea."
"What?"
"You want a baby, but not a father, right?"
"Right."
"The dad doesn't need to be involved at all, ever, yeah?"
"Nope, never. I don't need help emotionally, financially, nothing."
"Well let's make a baby then." Your neck nearly snapped with the force you looked up at him.
"I'm sorry, what did you just say?!"
"I have exactly what you're looking for, right? I have decent genes, copious amounts of sperm as you know very well," he smirked. You weren't laughing though.
"You're insane, you can't possibly think this is a good idea?"
"Why not? You've made it clear that you're not interested in a relationship - that's one of my boxes ticked. I get to have sex with you without a condom - second box ticked. I get to fuck a pregnant woman - third box ticked. Kinda been a fantasy for a while..." You raised an eyebrow at his last admission.
"Do we have a daddy kink, Cillian?"
"Yeah, without the desire to actually be a Daddy. Just the thought of you.. swollen belly.. breasts overflowing... Fuck y/n you'd look sexy as hell..." He made his way over to you, the bulge in his jeans evidence of his arousal at the thought of you being pregnant.
"And you'd sign over all parental rights to me?"
"Just tell me where to sign..." His hands cupped your face gently as he pushed his body against yours, backing you up towards your bedroom.
"No weirdness... No one would know the baby was yours?"
"No one..." He pulled at your t shirt, lifting it over your head before crashing his lips against yours, both of you falling onto the bed together as he pushed his erection against your core hard. Unhooking your bra and throwing it across the room, his lips found your nipple, sucking and nibbling on it as he pulled your jeans and underwear down your legs.
"Fuck.. Cillian.. you need to be sure about this..."
"Never been more sure of anything y/n.. I'm gonna put a baby in you... Let me put a baby in you..."
You gave in when his fingers entered you, pulling forward finding that one spot inside that only he could find. Your hips bucked against his hand as your eyes closed, mouth open gasping his name.
"Fuck I've missed this... Don't stop..." His lips were on your neck, leaving marks that your makeup artist wouldn't thank you for tomorrow but you didn't care in the slightest, the need in you too much.
"I need to feel you on me y/n... Come for me girl..." his fingers pulled harder and faster, sending you over the edge while his voice whispered in your ear. Within seconds of your orgasm he pushed his length inside you with a hard groan, lifting your leg over his elbow. Your nails digging into his shoulders as he thrust his hips, hitting that sensitive spot over and over again.
"Yes... Fuck yes baby fill me up..."
"You want this huh? Fuck you feel good bareback... I can feel all of you..."
"You feel so good Cillian... Filling me up... So fucking deep..."
"Fuck.. I'm gonna come... Jesus y/n..." The sensations too much, he spilled into you, you could feel ropes of his cum deep inside as your walls milked him for all he had. He fell onto your chest, pushing himself as deep inside as he could.
"I'm not letting any of this fall out... Need it to take... Stay on your back." You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling him softening inside you.
"You really want to do this, don't you?"
"If it makes you happy, yes. You want a baby, I want to give you a baby. You don't want a father, I don't want to be one. I see no problem with any of this."
"And if the baby looks like you?"
"Crazy coincidence."
"If you change your mind?"
"About what? Being involved? I won't, trust me."
"Reckon we've made a baby tonight?"
"We may well have done. I still get to fuck you if we have, though, right?"
"Damn right you do - you're giving me a baby, least I can do is give you a pregnancy fuck to say thank you," you laughed as he pulled out slowly, kissing your lips then down to your belly.
"You better hurry up in there, I've got a fantasy to cash in on..." You batted him away laughing as he moved over to collect his clothes. He never stayed overnight, it would raise too much suspicion. He winked at you as you lay on the bed, and headed out the door smiling.
This might just work out, you smiled, curling under the sheets and drifting off, dreaming of your blue eyed baby.
#cillian fanfic#cillian smut#cillian x fem!reader#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian x pregnant reader
200 notes
·
View notes
Text
#FFD500 | PARK JISUNG.
genre | fluff, meet cute au, strangers au
word count | 1781
warning | smoking
with suit and tie, styled hair, minimal makeup, and a heavy name on his back, jisung realized he could not do it. he could not bring himself to enter the main scene of high school prom.
nervous sweat drenched his hands and he hastily wiped away at the side of his hips. the blinking neon lights coming through the small windows of the assembly hall doors, and the loud blasty music that belonged to none other than his very own idol group made him feel isolated in this dark, empty school hallway he has barely walked across since he got accepted into the school.
there was no point in this. there was no point in attending. donghyuck had encouraged him the most when he was debating whether he wanted to go to prom; he said it could help with blowing off some steam, and there might even be a possibility of meeting someone eccentric, like how he did when he decided to attend prom two years back. jisung had believed him, and now he realized he should not have.
he barely attended school because of his conflicting schedule as a worldwide idol. logically speaking, he shouldn't even be allowed to graduate with the number of absences in his record, but he did so with flying colors anyway. he was everyone's friend and he has no friends; there would be no one to talk to inside, and the clear superiority in accomplishment he held might make things embarrassing and awkward for him.
he understood why donghyuck would deem his experience at his prom great. it was because he knew how to talk, he knew how to charm, and he was never shy around people. jisung believed his story when he talked about the student he frantically danced with under artificial lights. for donghyuck, having met someone eccentric was merely a fortunate coincidence, if not a miracle that he met someone exactly like him.
jisung was nothing like that. he knew he was nothing like that. dealing with strangers, let alone the mysteriously off ones, was never his forte. he would just make a fool of himself, he would not be having a good time.
going to prom was a bad idea. he should leave.
"jesus–watch it!"
"ah..." his voice dimmed as he immediately turned toward the direction of where the explosive voice came from. his hurrying steps halted to a stumble before a stop, and he eyed you up and down carefully before he dipped his head. "sorry... i–i didn't mean to scare you."
"i wasn't scared, just startled," you retorted quickly, but your voice was much calmer than your initial snap. tapping the lit cigarette in your hand lightly with your index finger, you mumbled as you eyed him with mild curiosity after your angry brows faded, "you came out in a hurry. forgot you had an award show to attend to, hmm?"
"oh–no, it's not that–" jisung paused abruptly, he wasn't sure why. when you raised a brow at him, almost impatiently it seemed, he gulped down a nervous knot and scratched the back of his head. "sorry, i just.. i didn't think you would know me."
you blinked at him as you swiped your tongue against your teeth, clicking with what jisung could not tell was menace or disinterest. either way, they were both bad. taking a short puff of the cigarette, you exhaled a cloud of smoke before you mused, "who said i know you, park jisung?"
he gulped, visibly distraught and confused.
"you just said–"
"i just what?"
he gulped again when his meek sentence was cut off so quickly. not even his brothers have interrupted him like this before, at least not with the genuine intention to anyway. it seemed that at this moment, he further came to the realization just how well he was taken care of by everyone around him, because could such a simple jab to a social interaction cause him such anxiety if he was used to it?
(he was glad he wasn't used to it.)
"what is a hotshot like you doing here anyway?" you fired the sudden question, looking to him with intrigue.
you were never one to engage in idol activities. you weren't even in this school to become an artist; you were forced here by your parents who stood somewhere in the industry. one day they realized you had the voice and the range to deserve the spotlight, and here you were stuck in those shit-ugly, overdue-banana-colored uniforms, trying to be a star you didn't want to be.
but jisung—you knew jisung. everybody knew jisung. your classmates, the teachers, that random american tourist who asked you for directions in the street, that kpop warrior online who kept screenshots of netizen articles and translating them out of context. everybody knew jisung, but very few knew him enough.
you didn't care much for him, but your curiosity just had to be fulfilled now that you were seeing him in person. what was he doing here, in a suit and sweating through his hair? did he always talked this shyly or was it your typical idol persona act? were you scaring him and should you do it even more to purposefully leave a bad impression?
your stare was confronting in this silence. granted, it was his turn to speak, so he was at blame for your lingering gaze on him. "i thought... i thought maybe i could go to prom," he finally replied quietly.
you hummed in acknowledgment, then you tilted your head. you looked behind your shoulder into the school, your eyes briefly grazing past the colorful doors that were the entrance to literal teenage hell, and you jabbed your thumb toward the direction. "prom is that way, though, dumbo."
"i know that," jisung said, embarrassed. "i just... i don't have friends."
you laughed, and once again jisung couldn't tell if you were genuinely amused or it was a response of mockery. inhaling carefully, you longing exhaled the smoke as your dazed eyes looked past him, with a smile so vague it seemed unnatural.
"what are you talking about? you've got friends. you got friends everywhere!"
"i... i don't?"
"sure you do!" you exclaimed boldly as you stretched your arms out to the sky, eyes ablaze at the stars above. "they are everywhere for you, jisung. you got friends everywhere because everyone wants to be your friend. you have options, you are just not taking them!"
"but they're not–" he licked his lower lip nervously, feeling a sense of sorrow cast over him upon the teenage loneliness he gained in trade for his success. "they're not real friends."
you paused.
real friends?
you paused; motions stopped, arms empty without strength, and eyes hallow with confused questioning. you stared at jisung as if he was a foreign creature who had said something absurd, so absurd you had to decide whether you wanted to ridicule him or interrogate him first.
what are real friends, anyway?
people who love you but do nothing about it, people who say they love you but do not, people who act upon loving you but do not? people who leave you alone at a bad time because you asked them to, people who would not leave you alone at a bad time even if you asked them to, people who knew how to juggle in between? people who comfort you because they understood you, people who advise because they could not understand you, people who try to relate to you because it was what they knew to be comfortable?
which one of those was real? were any of them fake simply because you didn't like it? when did you get crowned the decision-maker?
what are real friends, anyway? why does it matter, anyway?
why does truth matter if the lies treat you so well?
when you made up your mind to do both, you began to move fluidly again. your lips opened to breathe, and you chuckled sardonically at his naivety.
"what do you need the realness for? lies are lies only if it bothers you, essentially meaning you don't really need the absence of lies," you said. "who cares about real friends, you just need friends. don't you think you are expecting too much from humanity?"
there was sympathy in jisung that he did not know had risen. the basis of the situation, of why you came to the conclusion that people were less than gentle and kind, he knew nothing of but he was sorry for. whether something has happened in your life, or if you simply grew to be cynical, the lack of tiny joys in life must be a terrible feast.
he also knew he hasn't the energy and wit to argue himself to victory; his humanism, the desire to prove that people are good because his people have been good, would not be enough to shake you.
"shouldn't you stop smoking?" he asked, promptly changing the subject.
you removed the cigarette from your mouth, brows furrowed in annoyance now that the attention was directed toward you. you exhaled the smoke slowly from your throat, and you tilted your head up to the sky where you gently said, "maybe not. i just can't seem to die."
your god-given voice just wouldn't let off.
"do you plan to go back in after then? smelling like smoke?" he asked.
"don't mock me boy." you grinned with a glare hanging off the corner of your mouth. "and no, i am not going back in. i don't have friends, but unlike you, i just don't have friends because i am a raging asshole."
jisung finally breathed out a giggle, but it was abruptly short. he covered his mouth and lowered his head, only peeking up at you occasionally. "well, if it's any consolation, i don't think you're all that bad."
your eyes fluttered as you silently tapped your cigarette. he was just as you expected but a little more. you could understand why people like him so much now; his innocence wasn’t a drag, it was a charm.
you gave him a silent but thankful smile before you looked away. "yeah. thanks."
jisung thought you looked less angry now; eyes at the stars, wishful and longing to be above. the blush that blossomed on his cheeks remained despite the faded nervousness, maybe it was because he felt a fondness toward you he usually wouldn't toward the people he spend his time around; you were a classmate, someone his age, someone who could understand him if allowed.
an eccentric stranger that donghyuck suspected he might meet.
maybe it was a good idea that he never went to prom.
#nctcreations#jisung imagines#jisung x y/n#jisung x you#jisung x reader#nct dream scenarios#nct dream imagines#nct dream x you#nct dream x reader#park jisung scenarios#park jisung x y/n#park jisung x reader#park jisung x you#park jisung#nct dream#nct x gender neutral reader#nct x reader#nct x you#nct x y/n#nct imagines#nct dream blurbs#jisung blurbs#park jisung blurbs
106 notes
·
View notes
Text
CREEP 4: I wish I was special
Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Lexie O’Brien) Book TRR
MASTERLIST
Synopsis: Drake is a hurt, angry teenager. After being rejected by Lexie, he spends two years bullying her until he discovers the horrible truth behind her rejection.
In this chapter: Lexie and Drake spend a lot of time together. I’ve have to be honest this is a filler chapter with a bit a lot of smut 🤷🏽♀️
A/N: Drake’s and Lexie’s POV.
Words: 4,470
WARNINGS: SMUT! Parental abuse, domestic violence, toxic love, abuse, bullying.
THIS IS NOT YOUR USUAL MARSHMALLOW DRAKE. He was abandoned as a boy, he’s tortured and he doesn’t know how to express love.
This is a dark love story. If you think this might trigger you, PLEASE do not read it.
ALL MY FICS ARE 18+
TAGS ON THE COMMENTS –As this is darker than usual; I’m only tagging the people who commented in the previous chapters. If you want to get on or off the list for this fic; please do not hesitate to ask!!
Drake
I can’t believe I’m here. I can’t believe I’m holding Lexie in my arms, and this is happening.
Damn. She tastes even better than I imagined. Soft lips, the flavor of cherries and mint and something singularly Lexie. So, fucking sweet. Her innocent tongue is hesitant at first to play with mine, making her surrender even more satisfying. She’s been the center of my world for years. She’s everything I crave, and I didn’t know how to handle the rejection of the only person who matters to me. I know that’s not an excuse; I know that I don’t fucking deserve her. Hell, if I were a better man, a man that wasn’t starving for her, I’d live her alone.
She makes me stumble into the bed- when her thighs tighten around me, and she allows me inside her perfect little mouth with hot strokes of my tongue, my hands aching over the softness of her hair, her cheeks, absorbing her unique textures with my palms.
Get yourself out of my system. My heart has just awakened again, and it breaks painfully; when I think about her words, I make a pitiful sound into the kiss. Ah God. The best night of my life could be the night Lexie cuts me off for good, and I don’t know how to stop it from happening. She’s attracted to me, but I’ve hurt her too badly to contemplate a future. A man with more self-control, maybe an older one, might stop this now. Demand to talk, to explain to her I’ve loved her for so long and so fucking deep that I can’t see straight. That I let my insecurity act on my name. But right now, I can do nothing but soak up every inch, take as much as I can before she wants me gone. I let her mouth go momentarily, kissing down her jawline to her neck, trying to memorize exactly how she smells, how she tastes in every single part of her. How she sounds when she moans brokenly when she shifts her pussy against my lap. Then does it again.
“Feels good,” she whispers, her voice barely loud enough to hear above the storm. “Drake.”
I want to give her a first time she’ll think about every hour for the rest of her life, but I’m… I’m quickly recognizing my inexperience. I’m not as practiced at sex as she thinks. Only one girl before I met her. After seeing those deep brown eyes, no one else would do it for me. But I have been fucking starving for it for years. With this girl. So when she rubs against my cock and whispers, “feels good,” I almost come against in my jeans.
I have to force myself not to grip her butt cheeks and grind her down while I thrust up, giving myself enough friction to finish. Christ, don’t finish. Please. I’ve been blessed with an opportunity I don’t deserve. A night with Lexie. A chance to make her first time perfect—and that’s what I’m going to do, even if it kills me.
A thunder rumbles in the sky outside as she makes urgent, breathy noises, her fingers grabbing my T-shirt. She strips it off over my head, her palms slowly brushing the shape of my chest up to my arms, leaning in to kiss the hollow of my throat, the underside of my chin. Heat burns me from the inside, growing hotter with every touch of those lips on my body—and no, no, no, I can never live without her. I’ll fade and die without her touch. Get into her system, not out of it. Get deeper. So deep she can’t take me out. As deep as she is inside me. I know she’ll never love me as I do her, but I need her anyway. With those directions clear and loud in the back of my head, I move toward the bed and drop down to my knees, gently laying Lexie on her back, kissing her incredible mouth while my fingers fumble with the button and zipper of her jeans. I’m touching Lexie’s pussy through denim, and again, I want her so fucking badly, I’m worried I’m going to ruin everything, but I grit my teeth and start to slide the jeans down her legs. As soon as the soft, soft flesh of her thighs is revealed, I tilt my face up and shut my eyes closed. God, oh God.
“What’s wrong?” she whispers, lifting her hips so I can remove the pants. “You’re so beautiful; I’m trying not to come just looking at you,” I groan, tossing her jeans aside, taking several deep breaths to get myself under control, before giving in to the overwhelming temptation to see Lexie in panties. No amount of imagination could have done her justice. The shy inward turn of her left knee, the light blue panties that rapidly become see-through, thanks to how wet she is. The slit of her sex. My senses are overloaded, my breathing uneven.
Then she blushes and bites her lip, and I understand that she’s as nervous as I am. Probably more. Fuck, this is not about me. This is about the beautiful, sweet girl underneath me. I take a moment to look at her face; her eyes are shining, her cheeks pink, her mouth is swollen from being kissed. I’m an eighteen-year-old man who –for three years, has only climaxed from jerking off, and because of that, my instinct now is to take my cock out and come all over the goddess in front of me. I’ll come so hard. All over her. But this is more than sex. I’m being allowed sex with the girl of my dreams. My dick is in disbelief, painfully hard and dripping with pre-come in my boxers, begging to come inside of her, instead of out. And Lexie…her eyes are locked on it in wonder, lips in an O shape. I’m going to be looking at that beautiful face when she takes my cock inside of her, feeling me move, stealing her innocence. Jesus. How am I going to last?
“Lexie,” I groan through my teeth, trying to explain with that single word how fucking horny she makes me. She’s still staring at the bulge in my jeans.
“Am I…should I…” I’ve never heard her with that husky tone of voice before. “Does it go in my mouth first?”
I shudder so hard, my jaw almost breaks. “Christ, don’t say that, baby. Fuck.” I’m a beast right now, ripping down my zipper and shoving my hand inside, beating off the raw length of my dick, my eyes traveling from her face, to her tits, to her pussy. Then circling back and starting at the beginning, telling her how fucking gorgeous she is. A fucking goddess. And Lexie seems to sense my desperation and overcome her shyness because she takes down her panties and kicks them away, baring herself to me. Ironically, when I should ultimately explode because the vision she creates is such perfection, I’m determined with purpose instead. With responsibility. As soon as her pussy is out, all I can think about is tasting it, giving her an orgasm and my own sexual pain takes an immediate back seat, my jerking hand slowing in the lap of my jeans. The sight of Lexie’s body hypnotizes me.
“Can I touch you?” She nods shyly but eagerly, holding her breath. I hold mine, too, my palms gently grazing up her inner thighs and pushing them apart, spreading the pink slit between her legs, revealing the secrets I need to learn or I’ll die unsatisfied. “Tell me when I do something that feels good.”
Slowly, I trace a thumb down the split of her pussy and her back arches, her gasp is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. “There,” I say in a rush, finally exhaling, tracing the edges of the nub that made her eyes roll back in her head. “Can I lick you here, baby?” Her hands fly to the mattress, fingers digging into the blanket.
“Yes.”
Fuck. I get to give her head. I’m down on my stomach in a heartbeat, rubbing my nose through her slick folds, inhaling Lexie, something peachy, gently dragging my tongue side to side over that little button. The sight of it makes my cock pound, my tongue licking toward it automatically, on reflex…and Lexie loses her fucking mind. A sexy sound fills my ears, her fingers sinking into my hair, pulling me closer. It’s like winning a gold medal at the Olympics. Knowing I found the exact spot that could get that reaction out of my girl has almost made me come right then. My tongue is worshipping her until I’m devouring her, doubting between French kissing her wet little pussy and teasing that perfect spot, her cries making the sweetest music in my ears.
“Drake. Drake. Don’t stop. Don’t. Please, please, please.”
When she comes, I swear to God, the taste of her is so sweet, so incredible, I go a little insane.
“I-I’m ready, Drake. Please.”
Despite how fucking bad I want her, I must make sure she wants this. I take a deep breath to calm my fucking dick, then I bend down to kiss her cute little nose and ask her, “Are you sure about this?”
She nods “Yes. God, yes.”
“I don’t have a condom. I don’t—”
“I’m on the pill. I went to the doctor myself to regulate my periods. Are you --uhm clean?”
I’ve only been with one girl three years ago, and we were safe. “I am.”
“Then I’m sure, Drake. Please, I want you so badly.”
With a choked sound, I take hold of my cock and press it to her center, my life flashing in front of my eyes when I slide in a single inch and her wet pussy clenches around me like a fist. “Oh. Fuck.” I drop my face into her neck, raking my teeth against it, my hips burning with the need to thrust. Claim. Pound her into the ground.
“Are you okay, baby?” Fuck, her eyes are shut, a painful expression in her innocent face.
“I just need a moment, Drake.”
“I’ll give you anything you need, baby.” I don’t need to think about anything to distract myself. The mere fact of knowing she’s hurting is more than enough to sober me up. I cage her head in my arms and kiss her softly. I look her in the eyes, and there’s something in her eyes I’ve never seen before. Trust.
“I lied to you, Lexie. I’ve only been with one person like this. But that was before you. Since then, I’ve never wanted to touch anyone but you. Never been hard for anything but this…” I feel her adjusting to me, so I force in another inch. It feels better than I could’ve ever imagined. “This sweet little pussy.” I search Lexie’s flushed face and find her looking at me in wonder, surprise.
“You…waited for me.” she whispers.
My nod is jerky, teeth clenched. “You really haven’t figured it out yet? You can’t tell I’m obsessed with you?” I drop hard kisses all over her face, her hair, her neck. “You can’t tell I would murder, lie and steal just to have you look at me?” Her breath comes in tight pants, brown eyes glazed.
“I need more. You’ve been hiding from me for two years, acting like someone else. But this…this is honest. I-I want to feel it.”
“Soon. Soon. Just let me get myself under control.”
“Please, Drake.” Her expression is enthralled, imploring. “Fall apart.”
I “Lexie, please. I don’t want to hurt you, baby. I want to make it perfect for you.”
She gives me one of those smiles I craved so much, and catching her bottom lip between her teeth, she reaches down and sinks her fingernails into my ass, yanking me close and impaling herself on my rigid cock. Fuck, I want to be gentle with her, I need to but damn if she’s not making it difficult. I bury myself to the hilt, and she gasps
“Hurts,” she says. “You’re too big. It’s too big.”
“What?” I struggle for awareness, my eyes unfocused as I search her face.
“Too big…” “It hurts.” Horror hits me. I’m hurting Lexie. My Lexie. Fuck no. “No, I’ll stop.”
“No.” She tightens her legs around my hips. “Just go slow.”
I kiss her front. “I’ll go as slow as you need me to.” My eyes focus on her pretty face. She’s so perfectly delicate. “You’re sure, baby?”
“Yes.” She kisses my mouth to reassure me, and I groan, melting at her touch, gently rolling in and out of her. It’s a painful effort to keep the slow pace, but I want her to enjoy this. I stop for a few seconds, and I search her face. If she’s still in pain, I’ll pull out of her no matter what she says. But her lips are parted, and she seems to be getting there with me, so I continue to thrust, rhythmic and measured, our eyes hot on one another. Her tight little pussy is making me insane.
“You’ve been driving me crazy,” I growl, kissing her neck. “The smell of you in class. The shape of your neck and hips and that perfect hair moving in front of me. Perfect, so perfect, so mine. And you wouldn’t even give me your eyes. It broke me. But you’ve always been mine, no matter what, huh? Nothing can change that.” I lick her neck, her throat, her mouth. I move a little faster and she cries of pleasure. “Be mine, Lexie.”
I put my hand between us and touched her at the same spot I did when I kissed her sex. Her reaction is immediate.
“Oh god, Drake. Just there. This is—God.”
She cries one last time, and I can feel her pleasure squeezing my cock as she comes.
An invisible string is cut when I’m finally down the other side of my peak, my heaving body collapsing on top of Lexie’s. “Lexie?” I kiss her forehead, her cheeks. “I’m… God. Are you okay?”
Her nod gets my blood running again.
“It finally happened,” I say, almost hoping she didn’t hear me.
“What did?”
“My fantasy came true.”
The smile she gives me is almost shy. And somehow, that’s the best part of our perfect night.
Lexie
Over the years, my mother’s voice has started to fade from my head, but I can remember her saying, “Santo Dios,” when something interested her. Or made her sit up and take notice. And watching the muscles of Drake’s back move in the darkness, I mouth those words to myself. Santo Dios. After we… After what happened … I don’t know what to call what we did. I’m scared to call it “making love.” “Sex” sounds too shallow for something so intense. “Fucking” sounds too crude, too impersonal, when what passed between us couldn’t have been more personal.
All this time, I pictured Drake meeting girls on the weekends, forgetting all about me in a quest for momentary bliss. But that wasn’t the case at all. He’s been…he waited. He waited for me. When making that confession, the raw honesty in his eyes left absolutely no doubt that he…feels something for me. Quite a lot, if I can believe what a man says in the heat of the moment. None of what Drake said felt like bullshit, though. Or a man telling a woman what she wants to hear. It was as if he’d been holding it in and pleasure broke the dam of secrets, making his walls collapsed all around me. Leaving me with the ruins of all this new knowledge.
I sit on the back porch of the cabin, arms wrapped around my knees, watching Drake connect the generator so we can have light. Thanks to the storm, the electricity isn’t working. Now, shirtless, he works on his knees in front of the machine, a frown of focus between his dark brows. Every minute or so, he stops working to glance over at me, his throat bobbing, his eyes watchful and hungry, the outline of his erection back to pressing against the front of his jeans. My newfound feminine vibrates, demands attention. I was too tired to put my pants back on, so I’m dressed in panties and a T-shirt. My lack of clothing feels forbidden, as does being alone at a cabin with a boy. For the whole night. And I don’t know what to do about the desire he’s fueled inside of me. I don’t know what to do with the excitement of knowing we’re both new –or almost, at exploring the bodies of the opposite sex…and all the ways we could do it now. Inside the cabin. Alone. No one to hear us, judge us, see us. No getting in trouble. Nothing holding us back. Except for what he did to me for two bitterly long years. Except for the fact that I need to get far away from here, from my father, and it won’t do me any good to get attached to this magnetic boy.
There can only be one night. I need to make a fresh start. I need to cut myself clean off from everything that has made me feel sad and broken in the past—and whether my heart likes it or not, Drake Walker is one of those things.
He’s looking at me right now like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. And it’s that kind of intuition he seems to have about me that is going to get me into trouble. Going to make me second-guess my determination to leave him here along with everyone and everything else I’ve grown up with.
Drake sets down the tool in his hand and flips a switch, lighting up the porch. “Looks like it’s working.”
“Yeah.”
He sends me a tight smile. “They don’t call me a handyman for nothing.” It occurs to me in that moment that I don’t know a lot about Drake’s private life. I know he lives in a trailer on the other side of town. And the horrible story he told me about his family, but not much more.
I want to escape this place. Does he? “Are you…planning on hanging around Portavira after graduation?”
His movements pause ever so slightly, but I catch it. “Hadn’t thought too much about it.”
“Really?”
“No,” he sighs. “That’s a lie.” Kneeling in front of the toolbox, his jaw tightens, his gaze eventually making its way back to me. “And I don’t want to lie to you anymore, Lexie.”
“Then don’t,” I say quickly, holding my breath.
“I know you want to go to college and make something of yourself, but that -that’s not an option for me. I’m just going to stay here trying to fix this old house and honor my dad’s memory.”
He evades my gaze, and the reason why is painfully obvious. “You have nothing, nothing to be ashamed about, Drake. What you’re doing with this cabin is amazing; if this is what you want to do, you should”.
Even in the muted moonlight, I can see the reddening of his cheekbones. “Believe me, for the rest of my life, I’m going to hate myself for how I treated you. I thought…”
“What?”
He shakes his head, but answers anyway. “That night at your house, I thought when you found out I what I did for a living, that I was there to repair your roof…you remembered I wasn’t good enough for you. That you looked down on me. I thought you were ignoring me all this time because you regretted everything that happened, everything you said. You had a momentary lapse of judgement and went back onto your pedestal, out of reach of my filthy hands. It hurt to think I disgusted you. It hurt and I took it out on you.” At the end of his explanation, my mouth is hanging open. No wonder he was so mad, lashing out all the time. He thought I was ignoring him because I thought myself better. Above him. For a prideful person like Drake, being ignored because of his status would have stung worse than anything else.
“Why are you only telling me this now?”
“Because it sounds like an excuse—and I’m not making one. Ever.”
“I didn’t think I was better than you. I missed you.” That strong chest of his starts to rise and fall quickly, his gaze penetrating me through the darkness. “I know that sounds silly. It was just one night.”
“No. I missed you, too.” He takes a step in my direction. “Still do.” His eyes close and he releases a bumpy breath. “Brutally, baby. I’ve never stopped wanting—fuck-craving you like a madman. It just killed me to see how you were so gentle and kind to everyone but me. Even before I started -bullying you.”
Nerve tingle everywhere on my body, the need to touch and be touched by Drake increasing the temperature of my skin rapidly, making my breasts feel full, my legs weak. I’ve never tried drugs, but I understand now what addiction must be like. Fighting a pull, battling a self-destructive urge, promises an incredible high before the inevitable downward spiral. If I give him the slightest encouragement, he’s going to bring me inside and…be with me again.
Is that what I want? Yes.
Will giving in to my physical urges make it much harder when I have to leave town for good? Yes. Yes.
There isn’t anything casual about Drake and me. And how can I begin to rebuild my pride, my life, if my first act of independence is giving my body to the person who made me cry so many times since sophomore year, I’ve lost count? I search for a way to change the subject. To take the focus off the connection dragging us back together.
“Well.” I dampen my lips. “I don’t think I’ll go to college anymore. My father hid all my acceptance letters. He was never really going to let me go.” I intertwine my fingers together and tighten them until they leach of color. “Tonight, was the first time I ever spoke back to him. I was just so angry.” Several beats pass.
“Of course, you were.” He drops down onto the back porch, a couple of feet to my right, staring out into the trees. “Hell, Lexie. I’m sorry he did that.”
I nod. “I did a lot of thinking on the back of your bike. It’s good for that. Thinking. Isn’t it?”
“Yeah. When you don’t want to think… it’s good for that, too.”
“Hmm.”
He looks over at me; hands clasped loosely between his bent knees. “What did you think about?”
“College. How to salvage the original plan.” I feel kind of jumpy, sharing my ideas with Drake, with anyone, I’ve kept things to myself for so long, not confiding in my classmates, not getting close to others, lest my father find a way to blacken the connection. To make people sorry for interacting with me. “I was thinking…maybe I could go and see the school guidance counselor. I need all my transcripts to apply to college here in Cordonia. Once I do that, things might get easier. There has to be a way to make it work. Even if it is a little late to apply.”
Drake nods, frowning like he’s giving my plan some serious thought. “It’s not safe for you to go back to the school, Lexie. I’ll go. I’ll do whatever you need. Pick up your transcripts or anything else. We can find a library around here to fill out the applications online…” My heart thumps heavily. All that time spent with him, getting deeper and deeper. It wouldn’t be wise. “You don’t have to do all of that.”
“I want to.”
His eyes are hopeful. I shouldn’t allow that hope. Nor should I rely on him for things I need to do myself. Things that will be required to take control of my life. “It’s not safe for you at the school, either. What if my father presses assault charges?” As soon as I ask the question, I shake my head. “Never mind. He’d never do that. People would know you bested him. They’d know what he did to me, too—and he’d never, never allow that. There’s nothing more important to him than his reputation.”
“So I’ll go to the school for you?” he asks, quietly, almost too casually, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the set of his jaw. It’s not a simple question. If I say yes to this favor, it means our…relationship will extend beyond one night. To include tomorrow—Sunday—plus Monday morning, before the school opens. It adds time to the us I know he still wants. Do I have a choice, though? My father could be there waiting for me, and that terrifies me more than my feelings for Drake do. What he’s willing to do could help me tremendously. Could start me on the path to a new beginning. “Yes,” I whisper. “You’ll go.”
Drake swallows loudly, his eyelids closing. When he opens his eyes again, his gaze traces my bare thighs hungrily. We have until Monday now. What are we going to do with all that time? That question hangs in the air, unspoken, but louder than a shout. I can almost feel the binds tightening us together, strengthening until they become impossible to snap. And it scares me, but I need him too, even if it’s for a few days. Always loved being scared, electrified, by beautiful things, and bare-chested in the moonlight, Drake is by far the most beautiful of all.
“Lexie…” he breathes, swallowing loudly. “I want to taste you again?” Heat envelops me, invades me. I’ve always worried I need to touch myself too often. That I have a more pronounced sexual appetite than I’m supposed to have at my age. But as Drake kneels on the lower stair in front of me and separates my thighs, kissing a path toward my apex, I know he’s the reason. Drake is the reason I’ve been riding the heel of my hand, crying frustration into my pillow, night after night after night. He’s the one that inspires the excruciating arousal—and I don’t have a shot in hell of saying no to him. Not when it comes to being physical. I just have to remember to say no to anything more. Anything beyond this. “Yes…” I lean back on my elbows. “Do it.”
He does, and we spend the next hours lost on each other.
#axwalker writes#drake x mc#drake walker#trr high school#trr au fanfic#drake x lexie#tw abuse#tw bullying#tw violence#n*sfw
87 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Purest Things- Repeating History
Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: Brief mentions of murder and alcohol. Canon typical violence.
A/N: this takes place during season 3 episode 11, birthright. i had a lot of fun studying this episode and making it my own. i have changed certain dialogue and who says what for the sake of the story. please enjoy!
The Purest Things Masterlist
(my gif! please credit if you use.)
january 2008
Syd Moore said, “Disregard for the past will never do us any good. Without it we cannot know truly who we are.”
+++++
Your alarm is often hushed before it even has an opportunity to set off nowadays because you usually wake up before it even has the chance.
4:25 A.M.
You groan and toss your pillow over your face. Maybe, just maybe, you can will yourself to sleep for a little longer. As if someone heard your pleas for slumber, your phone starts buzzing on your bedside table. Of course, it is unnecessary for you even to read the messages. There is a case.
+++++
"Last night in Fredericksburg, a 20-year-old woman, Molly McCarthy, was abducted," J.J. begins, "She's the third to go missing in the last 6 weeks. All disappeared from public places. No one's seen them since until now. A couple days ago, body parts with cigarette burns were recovered from a national park that was once the site of the battle of Chancellorsville."
"Were they able to make an I.D.?" you and Hotch ask simultaneously. Your eyes meet, but he breaks the contact abruptly. Flustered and insecure, you bury your focus deep into the file in front of you. The group discusses the case for a couple of minutes, but you are so concentrated on the papers that you hardly absorb any information they've shared.
There is something familiar about this case to you. Suddenly, realization strikes.
Rejoining the discussions, you say, "I remember reading about a case like this in Spotsylvania county. Similar markings on the bone. It was the winter of 1980, also in Fredericksburg. There were 5 women aged 16 to 24. They were buried in pieces."
"Same markings. Same civil war battlefield," J.J. responds in agreement.
The team agrees that this could be the works of the same killer. There are aspects of the more recent killings that would be impossible to copycat since those details had never been released to the public. But, if this is the same unsub, what's he been doing for the past 27 years?
+++++
Hotch focuses on the road while you watch out the window of the passenger seat. Occasionally, you sneak the odd peek at him. His stoicism is alluring, and you find yourself drawn to this demeanor like a moth to a flame. Piecing together the tiny glimpses you've collected thus far as if working on a mental puzzle, you scrutinize his attributes. His eyes bare the beginnings of crow's feet. Only his sideburns tease the speckling of salt and pepper undertones. His lips turn downwards at the corners, no doubt from years of scowling at unsubs.
Reid speaks up from behind you both and breaks your train of thought.
Probably for the better, there's no reason why you should examine your unit chief so intently.
"It's funny--he always dumps the bodies in this battlefield, no matter what the risk."
"It's a respected landmark. He's flaunting," Aaron reckons.
"It makes him feel important," you say in agreement.
Once you have arrived at the crime scene, you follow Agent Hotchner closely. Reid trails ahead, most likely trying to keep up with his own train of thought.
"How does someone not see or hear them?" You ask the sheriff.
He turns to you with a defeated expression, "It was dark. He had the advantage. Molly's boyfriend was the last person to see her. He said she was alone for a minute, maybe less."
Hotch surveys the surroundings, "He's patient and works fast."
"He's perfected his M.O.," Reid states while looking around.
You cross your arms as a wave of unease gets the best of you as you envision the moments leading to Molly's attack.
"If our unsub's pushing 60, he's gotta be strong enough to carry her a long way without her struggling," you bring out.
Hotch looks to you with a concerned squint. You shake your head, signaling to him that it's nothing you can't get under control. He nods in response. The sheriff agrees to point out the various entrances to the park.
"I'll catch up with you," your Unit Chief states. He motions for you to step aside with him, and you comply.
"You know, ever since my wife and I had our son, I dread receiving cases involving children," he discloses to you.
Tears well up in your eyes, "I can't even imagine, but sir, why are you telling me this?"
"This job will inevitably strike close to home on some cases more than others. It's okay for you to feel overwhelmed by it all every once and a while," he assures you.
"You never lose it, though."
He sighs heavily, "Maybe I should have."
Shortly before you joined the BAU, Hotch's wife Haley left with their son Jack. You never ask questions or stick your nose where it doesn't belong. It isn't your place, and you can't blame him for not wanting to bring his family struggles to work. He deals with enough broken families on the job as it is. Mixing his own personal life into the field would only make it more challenging to prioritize. Despite all this, you cannot help but wonder what exactly led to his and his wife's separation. You hope that they can find their way back to each other. The crimes you investigate do not need to claim the Hotchner's as victims as well.
+++++
"I'll let you talk to Chrissy Wilkenson," Hotch directs you towards the kitchen. You wipe your sweaty palms against the fabric of your pants and make your way into the kitchen, Hotch following closely behind you.
"Mrs. Wilkenson," you say gently, "My name is Y/F/N. I have just a few questions about your husband. Where does Charlie usually go when he's stressed?"
"The barn," she stutters. You can tell she's anxious and afraid for the well-being of her family.
"Anywhere else, Chrissy?"
Hotch is called into the other room, and you continue questioning Chrissy. She's becoming overwhelmed, so you guide her to the dining room.
"I know this is difficult, Chrissy."
"Did the father of my child really do that to those poor women?" She cradles her baby bump.
Your heart breaks for her, and you choose to remain silent. Sometimes saying nothing speaks louder than words.
Footsteps bound throughout the house, and Hotch appears in the doorway, "The sheriff will stay here with Mrs. Wilkenson. We need you with us."
Standing up from your chair, you place your hand atop Chrissy's, "History doesn't have to repeat itself." It is almost as if she could tell you were reading her thoughts. The endless whispers that cloud her mind making her feel like she's left with only one choice, but there's always another option. That is all you are trying to remind her of.
+++++
As you and your team trek through the forest, you see a clearing.
"Hotch, this way," you beckon him to pursue your course.
Suddenly, a gunshot rings out, and you stop in your tracks. You make eye contact with Hotch and mirror each other's actions, dashing towards the opening in the trees. Your heart pounds in rhythm with your footsteps colliding against the ground. It is clear to you from your exchange with Chrissy at the house that the origin of the gunshot will shock everyone but yourself. As you reach the clearing and rush down the hill, your speculation is validated.
Chrissy Wilkenson is standing over the body of her husband, the unsub. A traumatized young man haunted by his father's past and plagued by the idea that children are trapped in the endless cycles created by their parents.
I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Jesus. Now is not the time for that.
The newly widowed woman claims self-defense, yet the cops handcuff her anyways. Inside, you feel conflicted while watching her get into the back of the squad car.
Hotch appears by your side but remains silent. Again, sometimes silence speaks louder than words. You bit your lip, attempting to hide the fact that it is trembling.
"What did you say to her as you were leaving the dining room?"
"I told her that history does not have to repeat itself. I wanted her to know that even when it feels like you are backed into a corner, there is always another way out. Sometimes people don't know where to look for their out thought," you quiver.
He lightly touches your arm and gives you a reassuring tilt of the head, "Just know that you did everything you could. We will never do this job perfectly. Doing the right thing usually costs more than it pays. You did your part. I'm not a saint, and I am far from a hero, but I have integrity and honor, and I do this job to the best of my ability."
"If you can leave a case with a clear conscience," he continues, "you know you did the best you could. Any other thought process will eat away at you slowly but surely, and ultimately, it will result in the demise of your career and destruction of yourself."
+++++
After a seemingly neverending day, you all arrive back at Quantico.
"I could really go for a drink, guys. What do you say? Newbie's buying," you wave your wallet around frivolously.
"I could go for 5 drinks!" Prentiss exclaims.
"Count me in," Morgan winks at you. He never fails to make you blush.
Reid hesitates and you pout your bottom lip, "Please Reid! How could you not want a repeat of Dolly Parton night last month?"
Hotch comes down the stairs, "Dolly Parton night? Do I want to know?"
You and Derek snicker to each other as Spencer attempts to diffuse his own embarassment.
"9 to 5 is an iconic female anthem that certainly has a rather bewitching affect on a man when mixed with alcohol."
"You only drank Diet Coke that night," you roll your eyes at him.
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Hotch forcing his way through the small group formed around the desks.
Making your way over to him, you invite him to join, "Want a beer?" You second guess yourself, but it seems as though his rather stern expression softens ever so slightly when he pivots on his heels to look at you.
"I would like that," he answers softly.
He immediately returns to his original path and hovers near the glass doors. You casually make your way over to him, joined by Dave and Emily. A man barges in through the glass doors announcing Aaron's name.
"Agent Hotchner?"
"Yes," the subject in question breaths out almost defeatedly.
The yellow package he holds in his hands is all too familiar and instantly churns your stomach into knots. You gnaw at your bottom lip, drawing a metallic taste that causes you to cringe.
"What is it?" Emily speaks up.
There's no question as to what it is. Oh Hotch. I’m so sorry.
Hotch's eyes trace the package from corner to corner in disbelief, "Haley's filing for divorce. I've been served."
When he eventually takes his eyes off of the lettering, his eyes meet yours. They lock onto you and it is in that moment that you feel as though you have been given the key to unlock his soul. His eyes are so unusual at this moment; they are more vulnerable than you have ever seen. The stoic man is gone, and instead, it is the eyes of one who is in tremendous pain. You had mistaken his bloodshot eyes for physical fatigue on the plane, but now you see that it is emotional exhaustion as well.
If only you knew how badly I want to hug you and tell you that you won't be swallowed up by this darkness. There's a long road ahead, but you have so many people here who love you and are here to support you through this. You aren't alone. Trust me, I know.
In some way, you pray that he can read into your soul and see the pain you feel for him. Once more, your shared silence proves to speak for itself.
At last, he breaks eye contact with you and finally releases the breath that you had been holding in. Dave grabs onto your arm, seeing the clear impact Hotch's news has on you, no doubt having also noticed Hotch's immediate response in looking at you.
"I'm sorry, but I don't think I can join you tonight," he excuses himself and escapes to the seclusion of his office.
Maybe history does have a way of repeating itself.
Tag List:
@chellybear98 @destiny-tsukino @wanniiieeee @sweetiecake180 @vampiracontessa @weexinling @spaghetti-dad187 @hothskies @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @mac99martin @clairedragonessbaker @cecemariee7302 @halloweenwithreid @megans-txmblr @theoldestguard @purpledragonturtles @chazubagi @frogrrylovebot @agentaaronhotass @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @mcntsee @ssagube @softhetixx @kenzies-mr-j @peachyotps @cat11-2 @prettylittlemoonlight @ravenmoore14 @gubs-boobs @spencerreidsoulmate @joyclubie
#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds reader insert#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner angst#hotch x y/n#hotch x reader#hotch x you#aaron hotchner headcanon#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x y/n#imagine#derek morgan imagine#derek morgan x reader#criminal minds headcanons#thomas gibson#fanfiction#emily prentiss#jennifer jareau#the purest things series
172 notes
·
View notes
Text
Home (Part 1)
Summary: Two years ago, you’d left behind your hometown and the love of your life to pursue your dream career, but returning for Christmas really made you start to second-guess that decision.
Pairing: Bucky x y/n
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: Language
Author’s Note: A Christmassy one for ya’ll! This story is inspired by the requests above from @shawnie--jo, thank you for those and for the inspo! I couldn’t fit everything into a oneshot, so this may end up being three or four parts.
---
You stuffed your bag into the overhead locker and collapsed into your seat, completely exhausted.
Some chaos was to be expected when travelling so close to Christmas, but still, you really could've done without the three hour check-in queues and the chorus of screaming babies.
Leaning back in your chair and pulling on your headphones, you squeezed your eyes shut and just tried to think about all the things that would make this journey worth it, all the things you’d missed about Christmas with your parents.
The excitement on their faces as they greet you at the airport, your mother’s incredible home-cooking, your father’s insistence on playing charades three or more times a day. It was your first time visiting home since moving away two years ago, and you wanted the whole cosy, corny nine yards.
There was just one teensy little caveat to your relaxing family holiday- two years away from home meant two years since you'd seen Bucky.
You were childhood sweethearts, head over heels in love with each other for as long as you could remember and best friends for even longer. When you were offered a job across the country, you wanted so much for him to move with you, but he’d already promised his father that he’d take over the family car-repair business.
It was the most difficult decision of your life, but eventually the two of you agreed there was no choice but to separate.
Being away from him tore you apart for the first few months, but now you'd finally gotten back on your feet, and you were ready to come face to face with your past again.
Or so you thought.
---
Your parents pulled you into a tight bear-hug as soon as you walked through arrivals, taking your bags, talking your ear off and quickly ushering you to the car.
Amongst all the excited babbling, you just about managed to discern that they’d planned a welcome home party for you that night with half the neighbourhood, an announcement which triggered a mix of dread and excitement to begin churning in your stomach.
You were looking forward to seeing your oldest friend again, you just hoped to god that things wouldn’t be weird or awkward between the two of you.
After a short drive, the car pulled up outside your childhood home. Just seeing it from the outside made you feel all warm and cosy but, as soon as you glanced through the door, those feelings were amplified off the charts.
The place looked incredible. Your mother had obviously put so much effort into making it look cosy and festive, you even felt yourself tearing up a little when you stepped inside. It was so elaborate, you had half a mind to interrogate her about a possible Christmas with the Kranks scenario going down prior to your arrival, but you decided it was probably best to just keep your mouth shut.
After you’d looked around properly and unpacked, it was only a matter of hours before the first guests started arriving.
You downed two beers to loosen yourself up a little. Each time the bell went, your eyes snapped towards the door, the sound making your heart leap out of your chest. It felt like you were waiting to find out whether that hard mass in the bottom of your stocking was a big-ass diamond or a lump of coal.
When Bucky finally appeared in the doorway, your jaw almost hit the shag carpet. The last two years had been unreasonably good to him, he looked like James Dean but somehow even more buff.
The boy you'd left behind had become a man in your absence and sweet Jesus it was really making you feel some kind of way.
His eyes were frantically scanning the room but he hadn't spotted you yet, so you took the opportunity to sneak up behind him and tap him on the shoulder.
‘Hey, stranger.’
He swivelled round, his eyes lighting up when they met yours. Before he said a word, you were pulled into a tight hug, audibly gasping when you were lifted clean off the ground.
‘Where the hell you been, Lilypad?’
You burst out laughing, remembering falling into a pond on your seventh birthday and him never, ever letting you live down. A wave of happy memories flooded your mind, making you smile widely as he set you down.
‘Still the same old Yucky.’
‘Hey, we agreed you wouldn't call me that anymore.’
‘I'll stop calling you Yucky when you stop calling me Lilypad.’
The corners of his mouth curled into a mischievous smirk. ‘Never.’
And just like that, it felt as though you'd never left.
You were excited to be with your old friend again, you were happy that there seemed to be no awkwardness between the two of you, and you were really doing your very best to suppress all the other intense feelings that had surfaced as soon as he’d walked through the door.
‘Come on, I'll get you a drink.’ You grabbed his arm and dragged him through to the kitchen, rummaging around in the fridge while he leant against the counter next to you. ‘Are you still working for your dad?’
‘Yep. He's hoping to retire in the next few years, so I'll finally be taking over.’
‘That's so great, you're pretty much set for life with that place.’
He nodded faintly, burying his hands in his pockets and flicking his gaze down to the floor. ‘So how, uh- how long are you back for?’
‘I'm flying back early on the 31st.’
‘You’re not even staying for New Year?’ The hint of disappointment in his voice made you immediately stop what you were doing and look over to him, his face going a little red as he shifted around awkwardly. ‘Ah, I bet you got loads of invites to big, crazy city parties.’
‘If you call staring at a computer screen until 3am and slowly spiralling into madness a party.’
You passed him a beer, his eyes staying fixed on the bottle as he mumbled. ‘All the work will be worth it one day though, right?’
‘I hope so.’
Your eyes locked, a heavy silence falling between you. This was exactly the kind of uncomfortable atmosphere you were dreading.
Panicking a little, you vaguely gestured towards the living room. ‘I should probably, y’know, mingle.’
‘Sure. I'll find you later though Lilypad, we gotta catch up some more.’
You gave him a warm smile and nodded, turning away and disappearing into the crowd.
The next couple of hours seemed to blur together. You made meaningless small-talk with people you barely knew, all the time just thinking about Bucky, about how quickly things had gone from fun and light-hearted to incredibly tense.
You just hoped you could get things back on a good track before you had to leave, losing him completely was the very last thing you wanted.
Shuffling into the kitchen to grab yourself another drink, you noticed him duck out the back door. He must've hit his socialisation limit. The two of you used to reach that point around the same time at parties, so you'd slink out together and share a cheap cigarette.
Abandoning your freshly opened beer on the counter, you followed him out, finding him tucked away around the side of the house.
‘Right on time.’
His head snapped towards you, the cigarette almost falling from his mouth as he shot you a wide smile. ‘Am I that predictable?’
‘I just know you too well.’
You leant against the wall next to him, hugging your arms tight as you felt yourself start to shiver, cause you were the kind of idiot that went outside in December wearing short-sleeves. Bucky noticed straight away, letting out a gruff chuckle as he shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and wrapped it round you.
‘That cushy city life has made you soft.’ He rubbed your arms a little, trying to warm you up, before eventually bringing his hands to rest on your shoulders and fixing his gaze to yours. ‘I'm really glad you're here, Lilypad. I've missed you.’
‘I've missed you too, Buck. I've missed a lot of things about this place.’
‘So why don’t you stay longer?’
‘Believe me, I was lucky to get this much time off.’
His eyes narrowed slightly, a concerned frown spreading over his face as he folded his arms across his chest. ‘Is everything alright? I haven't heard much about this job but so far it's pretty much been all negative.’
‘Oh, I do love it, honestly I-’
‘Why would you even try lying to me? You know I can always tell.’
You couldn’t help cracking a slight smile at his smug expression. He was right, the last time you’d managed to successfully lie to him was in first grade when you told him you didn’t know where his crayon sharpener had gone, knowing full well it was stashed in your pocket.
‘It's just a lot.’ You rubbed your forehead exasperatedly. ‘Apart from the few hours of sleep I get each night, I'm pretty much constantly working. You asked earlier if it was worth it and, to be honest, I really don’t know.’
He nodded faintly, dropping his cigarette and crushing it under his foot, before opening his arms towards you.
‘C'mere.’
You didn't hesitate. Launching yourself towards him, you let him enclose you, squeezing your eyes shut and wrapping your arms around his neck.
‘You'll figure it out.’ He mumbled into your neck. ‘You always do.’
‘Thank you, Buck.’
After a minute or so, you both pulled away slightly, stopping when you came face to face. A lot of things about home had slipped your mind whilst you’d been away, but you’d never forgotten how gazing into Bucky’s piercing blue eyes made you feel.
That feeling had never changed, and you were sure it never would.
You dropped your hands to rest on his shoulders, your eyebrows shooting up when you noticed how rock-hard they were. ‘Jesus, Buck. I’ve only been gone for two years, have you been at the gym that whole time?’
‘Nope, just been working hard at the garage.’ What absolute bullshit. ‘But feel free to keep the compliments coming.’
You smirked and feebly shoved him away, turning to head back inside but stopping suddenly before taking a step. ‘Oh, you better pick that cigarette butt up or my mom will go ape shit.’
‘Good call.’
You slipped through the back door, passing his jacket back when he followed you in. The two of you couldn’t have been out there for more than a few minutes, but it seemed as though the crowd inside had really started thinning out.
Bucky’s parents strolled over when they spotted him, informing him of their intent to leave pretty soon too, so he gave you a long hug goodbye and made you promise that you'd see each other again before the end of the holidays.
The two of you had parted on a good note, which was all you’d wanted going into the party, but now you found that you were pretty keen to squeeze as many more good notes out of these next few days as you could.
It was probably best not to delve too deeply into the feelings behind that sentiment. So you didn’t.
You helped your parents tidy up, your eyelids drooping as the exhaustion from a long day of travelling and socialising finally set in. Just as you were about to head upstairs, your mother piped up, using her expertly crafted trying to appear casual despite being really very invested in what I’m asking tone.
‘It must've been nice seeing Bucky again.’
‘Oh yeah, definitely.’
‘He must've changed quite a bit since you were here last.’
You chuckled to yourself. ‘Physically, yeah, but he's still the same goofy dumbass he's always been.’
‘It's always a treat when he pops round, he's such a nice boy.’ A suspicious eyebrow crept up your forehead. ‘And he's still single y'know, he hasn't-’
‘Alright. That's my cue to go to bed.’
Your dad strolled over and gave you a firm pat on the back. ‘Good idea, sweetheart. Get out while you still can.’
‘Thank you. It's nice having one sane parent.’
‘Although, I do have to say, he has been very good to us since-’
‘Dad!’ He raised his arms in surrender, using one hand to zip up his mouth. ‘Lord help me. Goodnight, crazies.’
You quickly escaped up the stairs. Stumbling into your room and pulling on your pyjamas, you collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in the pillows and letting out a long, exhausted sign.
As you drifted off to sleep, all the stress of the day melted away, leaving a single thought to echo around your mind.
You’d really overestimated how over Bucky you were.
---
Part 2
---
Permanent Taglist: @nnuree @tcc-gizmachine @somewhatasoftbaddie @emmabarnes @juenenfeu @linkpk88 @ddowii
Join my permanent taglist here or let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist for this story
---
#bucky#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky imagine#bucky fanfic#bucky fic#bucky fanfiction#bucky fluff#Bucky Barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fluff#marvel fic#marvel fanfiction#marvel imagine
169 notes
·
View notes
Text
milf: man i love forests
pairing: deforester boo seungkwan x frat boy mirror demon han jisung (side pairing reagan x rainbow)
genre: crack, strangers to friends to lovers, non-idol au
warnings: cursing, brief supernatural elements, i don’t know if this applies but all lcase, and i listened to christmas music and abba while writing this
word count: 2.7k
authors note: happy birthday @miyuuraiura !! i am so sorry about this monstrosity being your birthday gift but you asked for it so it's your fault entirely. i was gonna include some context on this story for those who are not rainbow and i but actually i don't think i will.
seungkwan did what he could to get by. he loved nature, he really did, but sometimes you have to make moral sacrifices to survive. he was a college kid strapped for cash, and when he saw a sign reading “GET RICH QUICK, INVEST IN DEFORESTATION” in the summer going into his freshmen year, he jumped at the opportunity. sure, he would have rather been a freelance singer, hired for bar-mitzvahs and children's parties, but that job market was flooded at the moment.
jisung, on the other hand, had no care for nature. actually, he didn't care for any human things, apart from “banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches”. he hated quite a bit about earth, the worst of all to him being college. as a demon, he had no reason to attend university, but after he was summoned in the bathroom of a frat house by the school’s power couple; rainbow and reagan, he felt obliged to follow the two around and keep them company.
for seungkwan, his main job rarely required in person work. he usually just chose plots of land to demolish, and sent plans to local managers. the only time he actually had to knock down any trees himself was during his summer break. he has a part time job of course, but it didn't provide him enough cash to survive. for someone with a job as a deforester, he truly did do what he could to save the environment. he joined his schools environmental club, becoming vice president his sophomore year because of his work with them. he kept his job a secret, not even telling his parents where the influx of cash was coming from. he kept a low profile and went through the motions of life. he didn't have much of a social life, with his small amount of friends being from the environmental club.
han jisung found joy in witnessing his professors and fellow students lose their minds over his lack of effort in class. he did the bare minimum and still passed with flying colors. most of all, it angered his seatmate in earth science, who happened to be none other than boo seungkwan. seungkwan was a hard worker in everything he did, particularly in school. he didn't get the best grades, but by no means was he the worst. averaging a steady B+, seungkwan spent most of his nights studying or working, rarely going to parties and enjoying himself only through one person karaoke rooms.
this fact upset jisung. he didn't know why, but seeing seungkwan so tired every day made him feel sad(? jisung wasn't sure what it made him feel. it was an emotion he had never experienced before. rainbow told him it meant he had a crush. to this he threw an empty soda can at them). not to mention seungkwan’s upsetting karaoke addiction, which he knew all about the danger of because of reagan, who spent most of her weekends drunk and singing. jisung didn’t know why he took such a liking to seungkwan. what he did know was that he was ecstatic to find that they would be paired together for a project. a project that required quite a bit of teamwork, and a lot of after school work sessions.
seungkwan liked to think that he didn’t hate anyone. he hated evil people, like hitler and stalin and jyp, but he didn’t really hate anyone besides the worst of the worst. that was until he experienced jisung. he wasn’t sure why jisung always talked to him when he was trying to take notes in class. he especially wasn’t sure why he was so excited to be partnered up together for the project that was worth 25% of their grade. seungkwan was less than happy to have to cooperate with jisung for an extended period of time, and he was not looking forward to letting him into his dorm room, or going anywhere near jisung’s frat house. seungkwan had no idea what he was pushed into.
they planned to meet at the cafe on campus at 5:00 pm after class. seungkwan was less than happy. jisung was thrilled. when jisung arrived seungkwan was sitting at a table drinking an americano and working on an english essay. he wasn't sure how to approach him, slowly walked closer before tapping on his shoulder. seungkwan jolted in his seat.
“jesus fuck jisung. you scared the crap out of me,” seungkwan gasped. jisung’s ears flushed as he brought his hand to the back if his neck.
“sorry,” he started, pausing for a second before starting again, “why don't we get started?”. he swung his bag down to the ground as he took a seat. seungkwan offered a small, non genuine smile before pulling out the project’s guidelines.
“let's try to finish this as quickly as possible. im pretty busy and don't have much time to fool around.” seungkwan said. jisung felt his heart drop. did seungkwan really think that little of him? granted, he always dozed off in class but he got his work done on time and in an orderly fashion. he felt his mind begin to wander. if seungkwan felt this way about him now, how would he feel when he found out that jisung was a demon. would seungkwan start to like him if he knew him better? jisung couldn't figure out why he cared so much about how seungkwan perceived him. he had never had an issue with others opinions of him before, so what made seungkwan so different? for some reason, jisung felt the need to connect with seungkwan. if not for himself, then at least to help him let loose.
after working silently on each of their portions of the projects for 3 hours, jisung finally spoke up. “do you want to maybe come to my party next month? well, it's not my party, it's for rainbow’s birthday. i know you're not one for social interaction but it would be cool to see you there. i’ll give you the details if-”
“i’d love to go,” seungkwan cut off jisung’s rambling. to be honest, he wasn't exactly sure what he was agreeing to, but he knew it would shut jisung up, and seungkwan valued his peace and quiet. part of him also just felt downright bad for the other. he seemed to be trying awfully hard to become friends with seungkwan, and he wouldn’t admit it, seungkwan had started to warm up to the boy. he really wasn’t as much of an issue as he had thought before, and was actually really respectful of seungkwan’s wishes. maybe i’ll give him a chance, seungkwan thought before going back to his work.
over the next month, jisung and seungkwan continued meeting to work on their project. seungkwan was less short with the other, and jisung was still red faced every time seungkwan decided to talk to him, which became quite frequently over the next few weeks. jisung was starting to realize that the feelings he had for seungkwan were not simply platonic, and that he didn’t just want to be friends with him. with the help of rainbow and reagan, he had come to the conclusion that he really, really liked seungkwan, and that he was going to do something about it. remembering that he had invited seungkwan to the party, he devised a plan to not only tell seungkwan about his whole “i’m actually a demon” thing, but also about his true feelings. it wouldn't be easy, but it was what he had to do.
a month later, seungkwan still wasn’t exactly sure why he had agreed to go to jisungs frat house at 9:00 pm on a saturday night. yet there he was, standing on the front porch of a large house, wondering if he should bite the bullet and walk in, or spare himself and leave right then. he didn't get a choice, however, as rainbow and reagan stepped out of the house giggling while clutching onto each other. both stopped in their tracks when they saw seungkwan. the couple and seungkwan stared at each other for a good minute before seungkwan shook himself from his trance.
“hey rainbow!” seungkwan started, “and reagan too. i know we aren’t super close, but jisung invited me and i thought i’d just drop by and wish you a happy birthday.” he passed her a birthday card filled with $50 bucks and then turned to leave. “i’ll leave you guys now. have a great birthday!” before seungkwan could get very far, however, rainbow grabbed him by the arm.
“hey, i’d love if you’d stay! at least go say hi to jisung. i’m sure he’d like to see you,” she said, silently making note to have jisung pay her back for being a great wingwoman.
“he’s probably hiding in the second floor bathroom. if you don't see him in there, just say his name three times in front of the mirror. he’ll appear.” reagan explained. seungkwan thought she was joking. how wrong he was.
following his entrance to the house, he had to refuse not one, not two, but three different people who were looking to give him bottles or cups of something which seungkwan presumed to be various types of alcohol. navigating through the house was difficult, reaching the stairs to the second floor only after running into numerous people borderline fucking on two large couches in the living room, a smoke circle taking place in what seungkwan assumed to be a dining room, and a very aggressive makeout session against a wall. once he finally reached the second floor, he had some difficulty finding the bathroom, accidentally walking in on reagan and rainbow, who had miraculously made it upstairs faster than he had.
“if you don’t stop shitting constantly i am going to break up with you! also, stop taking feet pics! it’s weird!” he heard rainbow shout.
“at least i can eat seafood! how does it make your head hurt? you’re the weakest link! that fucking seafood platter was delicious. and you know what, i’m glad i didn’t have to share it with you!” reagan responded. seungkwan quickly shut the door, not wanting to get involved in whatever drunken argument was going on there. after a bit more searching, he finally stumbled across the right room. knocking first to see if anyone was in there, he entered, and to his surprise, nobody was there. jisung was nowhere to be seen. seungkwan reviewed his options. he could a) leave the party, or b) continue to look around the packed house. but there was another option. he thought about it for a second.
“what's the harm in trying,” seungkwan thought out loud, before staring directly into the mirror.
“han jisung, han jisung, han jisung.”
nothing happened. that's what seungkwan thought, until a minute later the lights in the bathroom flickered off and the mirror began to glow. “what. the. fuck,” seungkwan managed to squeak out before falling backwards into the tub. first a leg emerged, then two arms, and finally the rest of jisung’s body.
“i feel like the genie in aladin every time i have to get into a fucking mirror,” jisung complained before seeing seungkwan toppled over. to that view, he jumped down off the counter and moved to help him up. seungkwan, aside from falling, seemed to be reacting well to the whole situation, at least in the sense that instead of freaking out he seemed to be in a state of shock. jisung took this as a good sign, and lifted the motionless body up onto the toilet seat.
“hey seungkwan, you there?” jisung waved his hand in front of seungkwan's face as he slowly came to his senses.
“what kind of twisted party trick was that?” seungkwan asked, pretty seriously. jisung just laughed.
“you summoned me from the mirror. i’m like a funny version of michael jackson except i'm a demon and not a man in the mirror.” jisung explained. seungkwan just stared. “are you ok kwan? do you want me to get you some water?”
“it was… kind of sick.” seungkwan stated. he didn't know why he wasn't scared. under any other circumstance like this one, he probably would have shit his pants. for some reason he felt comfortable around jisung. he felt warm. he felt seen. it was something he hadn't felt before. that's when he realized. he wondered why it took himself to long to figure it out. he never hated jisung. he just didn't know what to do with the fact that he made him feel special, and that he felt as though he belonged when they were together. it had hit him why he was so nervous the whole night, why he had wanted to make such a good impression, and why he was willing to embarrass himself by calling out jisungs name as opposed to just choosing to go home. it was because he loved him.
“can i tell you something?” both of the boys said at the same time. jisung giggled and seungkwan flushed red. **authors note! bonus starts here**
“you first,” seungkwan offered. he wasn't exactly sure he would be able to make it through a sentence without getting any redder than he already was.
jisung took this opportunity to finally get his true feelings out into the air, “i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-”
“you're rambling again,” seungkwan told him. jisung flushed a dark shade of pink. “it's a habit of yours. i think it's cute actually.” seungkwan wasn't sure where his sudden surge of confidence came from, but he was glad it came. he was standing up now, holding jisungs hands in his. jisungs heart was racing a mile a minute as he looked down at their intertwined hands and them back up, catching seungkwan looking directly at his lips. “can… can i kiss you?” seungkwan stuttered out. jisung couldn't find his words, so he opted to just nod.
when their lips connected, seungkwan could have sworn he heard fireworks. he did later find out that someone was setting off a firework in the back yard, but it was the thought that counted. their lips melted together perfectly, and seungkwan wondered why it took him so long to admit his feelings to himself. he could have been kissing jisung for a month before this.
once they finally parted, seungkwan spoke softly, “i like you too. i think that's pretty obvious now but just in case you didn't know.” jisung had the dumbest, most confused face on, and seungkwan had the brightest smile he'd ever had. seungkwan had rendered jisung speechless, for once in his life. not long after, they started kissing again, content with their emotions and their new relationship.
seungkwan was never one to believe that good things were permanent. he was overdramatic, stubborn, and hated interacting with people outside his small social circle. that was until han jisung came along. he was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, he could let someone else into his life.
jisung was a simple man. well, not a man, but he was simple nonetheless. he liked banging parties, booze, the boys™, and bitches. well maybe there was one more thing he liked. he knew for sure he liked boo seungkwan. maybe he loved him. maybe seungkwan even felt the same way.
-fin
**BONUS**
reagan and rainbow leaned up against the door to eavesdrop on their matchmaking work.
“holy shit!” reagan gasped.
“what is it?? tell me what happened. you're hogging up the door!” rainbow hissed.
“our boy is so grown up,” reagan pretended to cry. “put your goddamn ear up here.” rainbow felt her ear connect with the cold door just as jisung confessed his feelings.
“i like you… uhh like, i like like you. i have since we first became seatmates. well, i think that's when i've liked you since. i knew whe-” his next words were cut off on the girls side of the door as reagan squealed.
“shut your mouth! seungkwans saying something!!” rainbow said, obviously annoyed that reagan was obstructing her ability to hear the exchange.
“can… can i kiss you?” they heard seungkwan say. both looked at each other in shock.
“oh. my. god.” was all rainbow could say.
“i think we should give them some alone time,” reagan suggested as she tugged rainbow down the hall.
“i think we need some alone time for ourselves,” rainbow said as reagan pushed her into a random room and locked the door behind them.
#kpop#seventeen#stray kids#svt#skz#fanfic#guys i am so sorry#seungkwan#jisung#boo seungkwan#han#han jisung#a birthday gift#miyuuraiura#for you 💕#han jisung x boo seungkwan#jisung x seungkwan#han x seungkwan
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
As Long As I've Got You
Coco Cruz x Reader
Summary: Coco takes you with him as moral support to meet with Celia and Leticia, but when Celia takes things a step too far, you tell her exactly what you think.
Warnings: Emotionally abusive parent, very mild violence, family confrontation, angst, some soft fluff at the end
Word count: Approx 1500
Masterlist
A/N: Hi loves, this was a request from an anon. I hope you enjoy it, it took me a while to work out how I was going to write this, I hope keeping some of it accurate to the original scene worked out okay. Thank you for requesting! 💖💖
“Not sure if bringing you with me was a good idea.” Coco said, staring at the pack of cigarettes he’d put on the table. The pair of you were waiting inside the diner for Coco’s mother, Celia and his daughter Letty to show up.
“Hey, since when have we faced shit like this alone?” You asked, Coco finally meeting your eyes and giving you a soft smile, but you could still see the anxiety he held beneath the sweet look he gave you.
You had known Coco for years, since before he did time in prison, though back then you had just been friends, but you had been his rock when he realised he’d have to give his only daughter away. It broke his heart to have to do it, but at the time, it was the right thing to do.
Just as you were about to reassure him further, Celia and Leticia entered the diner and approached the booth you were waiting in. Immediately, you felt Coco tense next to you, his eyes hardening to a heavy glare as he fiddled with the cigarette in front of him.
As the pair slid into the seats opposite you, Coco looked at anything but his mother and you began to feel like you were underprepared for the heavy tension that quickly rose between the four of you as Celia eyed you. You knew she’d likely make you a target if the conversation went south, but both you and Coco were wise to her manipulation.
“Happy?” She asked in a sarcastic tone.
“Shut up.” Coco spoke dismissively before turning to Leticia. “Gotta talk to you.” He told her, the teenager’s eyes having never left Coco.
“Okay.” Letty nodded.
As the conversation went on, the tension rose further than you thought it could as you watched the interaction. It was awkward and confrontational and you felt the way Coco tensed even more when Celia struck Letty to keep her quiet.
“Enough. Jesus.” He ground out, jaw clenched as he glanced up at the waitress watching the commotion.
“I’m glad you’re livin’ here now, right?” Coco said after a short pause, looking solely at Letty and trying to ignore his mother. Gently, you placed your hand on his knee, noticing how nervous he was getting as he approached the truth and he glanced at you quickly before looking back at Leticia. “But you can’t go around tellin’ people you’re my little sister.”
“Why?” Letty asked.
“Yeah. Why Coco?” Celia piped up in a mocking tone and you had to fight the urge to kick her under the table.
“Shut up.” It came out as a whisper as your grip on Coco’s knee tightened slightly, trying to provide at least a bit of reassurance.
“Fuck.” Letty breathed out, disbelief in her voice. “Fuck, unbelievable. You don’t want anything to do with me either.” Leticia slammed her hand onto the table as she got up and walked away.
“Told you, she’s out of control.” Celia kept her condescending tone and you tensed, becoming increasingly angry at Coco’s mother. “If you had did what I asked you seventeen years ago, she wouldn’t be out of control. She’d have a decent life with a decent fuckin’ family.” He snapped.
You sat in silence as you listened to the pair argue and you increasingly had the urge to intervene and set Celia straight. You had been there for Coco through everything and Celia and her judgement was out of line. You knew she didn’t have an ounce of care for her granddaughter and Coco knew it too.
“The only reason you pretended to be her mom was so you could get that welfare cheque.” Coco argued. “Maybe I wanted another child cos the last one I had was a piece of shit.” Celia spat out, pointing at Coco and you almost threw yourself across the table at her but you knew this wasn’t your fight. You were here for support.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have let every diseased cock in Fresno turn your old gash into a cesspool.” Coco hissed in a bitter tone before he pulled away from you and got up to find Letty.
“Selfish bitch.” You glared at her as you slid out of the booth. “The fuck you just say? Coco is a fucking psycho, he’s bad for everything he touches, I should fuckin’ know.” Celia argued as she got up, squaring up to you, her hand batting you across the cheek, causing you to wince in pain and lean away from her.
“Coco is anything but a psycho, you’d know that if you spent a second of your time actually appreciating him rather than trying exploit and manipulate your fucking family.” You stared her down, raising your voice a bit, the waitress watching you both, worried you might start a fight.
“Why’s a normal bitch like you with a fuck up like him, anyway?” Celia deflected, attempting to provoke you. Taking in a deep breath and clenching your jaw, you kept your anger in control as the waitress tried to get you both out of the diner. “Maybe because this normal bitch sees something fucking good in him. Maybe I fucking see how sweet and caring he is. We look after each other, we love each other, which is more than you can fucking say.” You argued, pinning your finger against her chest before you stepped away from her.
“He isn’t a fuck up. You fucking failed him, Celia.”
Celia followed you out of the diner, letting the truth slip to Letty that Coco was her father as she got into her car, the pair getting into another heated argument as Letty ran off and you tried to go after her.
Chasing after her, you called for Letty as she climbed into some random guy’s truck, Coco now realising she had slipped away.
“L-Leticia!” Coco ran towards you, only getting half way across the parking lot before the truck she had gotten into had pulled away.
“Shit.” You breathed out, your heart racing as you tried to catch your breath from running after her.
Turning to Coco, you noticed his panic, wide eyes, chest rising and falling quickly as the shock set in. “We’ll find her, we’ll get her back.” You tried to reassure him, though you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince that it would all be okay. “She’ll come around, shit like that is heavy.” You rambled, Coco taking in a deep breath as he composed himself. “I know, we’ll get her back.” He nodded. “We got to, she fuckin’ needs someone.” Coco sighed.
“She needs you, Coco.” Your voice quietened and Coco softened as he looked at you, realising you had an angry welt on your cheek from where Celia had struck you.
“She fuckin’ hit you.” Coco’s voice was heavy with a broken, tired tone. “It’s okay.”
“No it’s not. What did she say, corazón?” He asked in a soft tone, his eyes sad as he reached up to gently smooth his thumb over your cheek.
“I couldn’t stand the way she spoke about you.” You admitted, eyes welling up with tears as you processed how horrible Celia had been, the entire exchange finally catching up with you. “I defended you and-.”
“She hit you.” He interrupted, unsure that he wanted to hear how exactly she had hurt you right now, because he was at a loss and part of him wanted to go after Celia and get her back for laying a hand on you and fucking things up with Leticia.
“I’m sorry, mi corazón.” Coco sighed, his voice small as he watched you try to blink your tears away, hanging his head low. “Maybe she’s fuckin’ right. I am a fuck up. I’m not worth gettin’ hurt over.” It came out as a whisper as he fumbled with his pack of cigarettes, pulling up one to his lips to light it.
“No. You’re worth everything to me, Coco.” Your words stilling his movements, his eyes meeting yours for a moment and he let out a breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding onto, tears coming to his eyes as it all began to overwhelm him.
“You’re too good for me.” Coco whispered, reaching for you and pulling you against his chest. “You deserve some good, Coco and if I can be the one to give it to you, I will.” You watched as tears rolled down his cheeks and you reached up to gently wipe them away.
“It’s okay, we’ll work this out, Coco.” You said, leaning up to kiss his cheek and he smiled sweetly at you through his tears. “We’ll work this out together, like we always do.”
Leaning down to capture you in a gentle kiss, Coco embraced you tightly, clinging onto you as much as he could. “As long as I’ve got you, mi corazón.”
Mayans Taglist (OPEN):
@everyhowlmarksthedead @woahitslucyylu @trulysuccubus @iambabyharry @starrynite7114 @ifoundmyhappythought @claytoncardenasbabymama @peaches007 @angelreyesgirl @thesandbeneathmytoes @plentyoffandoms
Permanent Taglist (OPEN):
@scuzmunkie @scarlett-berserker @megantje123 @sideeffectsofyou @loving-life-my-way @searching-for-neverland @kitkatd7 @shadycupcakefox @psychiccreationtaco @damienwitcher @thesewaywardskies @abbiesthings
#coco cruz x reader#coco cruz x you#coco x reader#johnny coco cruz x reader#coco cruz x y/n#coco x y/n#coco x you#johnny coco cruz#coco cruz#mayans mc#mayans fic#mayans#leticia cruz
217 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi love! 💓 💓 can you pls write a fic of Chris and y/n meeting in at Yale (where they don’t like each other at all) she being too sensitive and him being too cocky but he secretly liked her the whole time. Never got along or anything. Then they meet again years later in the city, and become friends and fall in love. But with smutty included. Love your lawyer fics ❤️😩😩 so pls make this happen 🙏🏻
Time Will Tell: Part One
note: Hiii, I decided to split this request (which I love btw) into two parts, the second one will drop either Sunday or Monday :) this part is more background story/buildup, hope you enjoy!
words: 3k
warnings: swearing, a bit of angst (??)
“That’s the final one.” Your father grunted as he put down the last huge box on the floor of your dorm room.
“Thank you so much, dad, you’re my hero.” you said, hugging both of your parents tight.
“We’re really proud of you, Y/N. You are going to do so amazing.” You mother whispered, her voice heavy with emotion.
“Thank you so much, guys. I love you. Please give me a call when you get home.” You replied before embracing them one last time, and off they were.
You sighed happily, looking around the room that was going to be your home for the next four years. You were finally a pre-law student at Yale, a dream come true. You gazed out of the window overlooking the campus, beyond exited about all the things to come.
+++
“Alright, settle down.” The voice of your professor sounded over the chatter of your fellow classmates.
You quickly stopped talking with your newfound friend next to you and shifted your attention to the front of the class. It was your very first lecture, and you were almost giddy with excitement about the prospect of learning so much new stuff.
The professor had already started talking, reading out the book list for this semester when suddenly, the door slammed open, and a young man burst into the classroom. He was clearly out of breath, but still grinned at the professor.
“My apologies, Sir.”
His voice was cocky, and you felt an instant burst of dislike at the way he carried himself. He was handsome, tall and broad shouldered with a head full of curls and a winning smile. But it was obvious that he knew just how good he looked, everything about him gave you the impression of another rich, arrogant brat. Yale campus was full of them.
“Just see that it won’t happen again, Mr-?” The professor murmured, clearly displeased.
“It’s Cuomo, Sir.” The guy replied, still grinning, before slumping into the seat next to you.
Cuomo. That rang a bell. You would eat your hat if he hadn’t something to do with the New York Governor, he certainly looked like a politician’s son. You knew you were being slightly prejudiced, but your intuition about those kinds of guys had never betrayed you so far.
As if he could read your mind, the guy in question turned his head to look at you.
"Hi Sweetheart, what’s up? I’m Chris. “
Without even looking up from your notes, you replied.
"If that’s your way of flirting, it sucks. I’m Y/N and not your sweetheart, by the way. How about you pay attention to the lecture now before you get into even more trouble.” It maybe came out more vicious than intended, but you didn’t want this guy to think you would swoon over him just because he had a pretty face.
He just chuckled but turned back to the board.
You were fascinated by the topic of the lecture, eagerly listening and taking notes, the irritating young man next to you long forgotten. When your professor announced that you had to do a group assignment until next week, you promptly turned around to your friend, silently signaling that you wanted to form a pair.
But when the professor started to read out a list of names, your plans were crushed.
"And next we have Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Cuomo.“
"Oh, you can’t be serious.” you murmured under your breath, when someone poked your arm. You turned around and stared right into Cuomos smug face.
“Looks like you and I are having a date after all, sweetheart.”
Well Fuck.
+++
“Ok, we’re going to do it your way, but just because you’re annoying the hell out of me, and I want this to be over as quick as possible.” You groaned, scribbling something onto the paper in front of you.
Not that you would ever admit to it, but working with Chris went better than expected. Yes, he was cocky and arrogant to no ends, but apparently, he wasn’t only in Yale because of his family name. You bickered about almost every decision, but his ideas for the project were actually pretty good and once you got over his stupid jokes and constant unpunctuality, his company was bearable.
“I’m so glad you’re finally acknowledging my genius. My next suggestion is, once we’re finished here, how about you and I grab dinner somewhere together. You look like you’re in serious need of some fun.” He said, winking at you.
The nerve of the guy.
“You think my idea of a good time is going out with you? Wow, you‘re really full of yourself, Cuomo.”
A weird expression flashed over his face, but before you could name it, he was back to his usual smug grin.
“Your loss, sweetheart.”
+++
You got a good grade on your assignment, but we’re still relieved when the professor paired you up with someone else for the next one.
Outside of class, you rarely saw Chris, mainly because you were parts of different crowds. He had joined a fraternity and the football team, and you often spotted him hanging around with the other frat boys on campus.
To you, they were all cut from the same cloth, spoiled, rich boys who’s only concerns were the next party or if they could graduate in time to take over their daddy’s firm. Those were the kind of people you were trying to stay away from.
+++
It was the final party of freshmen year at the frat house, and you had a blast. There was good music and a lot of alcohol, you were glad your friends had managed to drag you along. The frat boys were there as well, obviously, but you paid them no attention while you danced and enjoyed yourself.
After the third round of shots, you were starting to feel slightly dizzy. Apologizing to your friends, you went outside to get some fresh air. In the garden behind the frat house, the dizziness got even worse, and you had to lean against a wall to steady yourself.
“Everything alright?” someone asked from behind you. It was Chris.
“Sure, Cuomo.” You replied, your voice already slurred. “Just had one or two shots to much.”
“You certainly had more than that.” he spoke, getting closer with a slightly worried look on his face.
“Jesus, you look smashed, Y/L/N. Maybe it’s better to go home?”
“Yeah, I probably should get going.” You agreed, feeling incredibly fuzzy by now, and as you tried to walk, you almost fell over your own feet.
“No way you’ll make it to your dorm on your own. I’ll take you.”
You were too drunk to argue with him, so you just murmured something in agreement and leaned a bit against Chris’s huge frame.
“You have so many muscles.” you whispered, but he still heard you and laughed.
“Oh my god, you’re totally wasted, you’re gonna regret this so much tomorrow. Come on, let’s get you home.”
Luckily, the way to your hall wasn’t that long. Chris steadied you with and arm around your shoulder, almost dragging you up the stairs when you finally arrived.
You fumbled with the keys to your room, so he just took them from you to unlock the door.
“Here we are.” Chris announced, softly sitting you down on the edge of your bed. “Sleep, I’ll tell your friends that you’re home safe.”
With a groan, you sunk back into the pillows, closing your eyes.
Chris was still standing in front of your bed, as if he was unsure if he could leave you alone like that.
“You know,” he quietly spoke. “When I was asking you out, at the beginning of the year, I was kind of serious about that, I-…Y/N?”
But you had already fallen asleep, slightly snoring into your pillow.
Sighting, Chris ran his hand through his hair and gave you one last confused look before he left, softly closing the door behind him.
+++
Lucky for you, the next day was the first day of summer break. You were mortified about acting like an idiot in front of Chris Cuomo, but at least you didn’t have to face him for several weeks.
When the new semester started, the two of you saw each other in classes again, but he never brought the incident up. Instead, he went right back to being his insufferable, arrogant self, taunting you at every chance he got.
Your current class mainly consisted of discussions about the latest political and judicial affairs, and Chris and you ripped each other apart at every chance you got.
“You’re living in a dreamland, Y/L/N.” Chris drawled. “Face the facts, those tax increases for the top five percent or whatever it is you are suggesting, they won’t work. It would actually just hurt our economy, not that you understand anything about that. Also, your poker face is terrible” He pointed right at you, and a few of your classmates chuckled.
You almost lost your last drop of patience there and then.
“I am not sure what’s worse, Cuomo, the bullshit coming out of your mouth or your stupid-“
The professor interrupted you, ending the discussion before things could get really ugly.
+++
“I hate his guts.” You growled, taking an aggressive bite of your bagel. You were having lunch with two of your friends between lessons, and Chris Cuomo was a frequently brought up topic in your conversations.
“You certainly talk about him often enough to really make me doubt that.” One of your friends snickered, and the other one added. “You know that he watches you sometimes, right?”
“Bullshit, he hates me.”
“Yes, Y/N, I’m sure he looks at you with those big, blue, dreamy eyes because he despises you so much.”
“You have to admit, he is stupidly hot.” You friend sighted, “He’s so tall, and that face.”
You rolled your eyes at them. “Sure, he’s not exactly ugly, but his personality is. I’m praying we won’t have any more classes together next year or I might really punch him in the face one day.”
+++
Much to your chagrin, fate wasn’t on your side. Junior year rolled along, and again you had several classes with Chris. And as if that wasn’t enough, he started dating a girl you sometimes hung out with and became a regular guest at parties you and your friends were going to.
So not only were you almost killing each other every day in class, you bickered with him in the evenings as well, about every topic from beer brands to foreign policy. And still, when he ended your conversations to get back to his girlfriend, you always got a small sting of something that felt a lot like jealousy.
Since your friends had revealed to you that he was watching you from time to time, you had started to feel a bit restless around him. Somehow, he was able to get under your skin like no one else did, irritating you to a point where some days all you could think about was his stupid face.
Even if it was just to argue and fight, for some reason, you always gravitated to each other.
+++
“That’s it, I’m not listening to any more of your shit.” you shouted. Your latest argument had continued even after class has finished, and by now, you were walking through the hallways almost yelling at each other. People were already staring, and you had enough.
“The truth is hard to swallow, isn’t it?”Chris replied, his usually cool demeanor had dropped and by now he was just as angry as you were.
“The truth is, I’m sick of this and I’m sick of you. We’ve been at each other’s throats for years now. You won’t convince me of anything and vice versa. I have better things to do than fight with you every day. Just leave me alone from now on, please.”your voice has gotten quieter with each sentence, and before you could display too much emotion, you turned around and left Chris standing in the middle of the hallway, a perplexed expression on his face.
This was the right decision, you thought. This guy meant nothing but trouble, and your infuriating relationship had to stop, you had your finals to focus on.
+++
The end of year parties always were a huge thing on campus, but this one was different for you. This was it, Senior year was over, there would be no coming back to Yale in the fall. Nostalgia and relief about the finished finals made you and your friends celebrate like it was your last night ever and beer and liquor were flowing.
You had received your acceptance letter from Georgetown Law some days before, and the opportunity to continue your education in Washington DC was another reason for you to party.
At some point though, the amount of drunk people was starting to become a bit too much for you, and you decided to retreat to the garden for a moment of quiet. As you walked around a couple of trees, you spotted a lonely figure sitting on a bench in the dark.
“Cuomo?” you asked, a bit staggered. Usually, the guy was the life of every party. What was he doing out here all alone?
As if he had read your thoughts, he spoke up. “I was just trying to get some last moments out here, were leaving campus in two days and this always was my favorite spot.”
Who was this guy, and what had he done to the menace you attended class with?
You hadn’t seen that much of him the past months, not after your last argument, but the memories of your numerous encounters were still very present in your head. You had thought about him more often than you’d care to admit.
“I wouldn’t have taken you for a nature guy, Cuomo.” you replied “Unless you’d count the lawn on the football field.”
“That’s because you don’t know me, Y/N.” his voice was oddly cold as he looked at you, his eyes almost appearing black in the dark. You tried to ignore how handsome he looked and focused on your dislike for him instead.
“Oh, I know enough. You have shown me everything I need to know about you over the course of the last four years.” You snapped, the alcohol in your system was making your emotions run high.
Chris got up from the bench to plant himself right in front of you. He towered over you and you had to crane your neck to look up at him.
The air between you was bristling with tension, he stood so close to you that your bodies were almost touching.
“Why, because I actually challenged you, delivered some real arguments against you? Until you chickened out?” He shot back, his voice growing louder, his fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t you want to become a lawyer? Better learn to deal with that if you want to survive in court, that’s not a place for soft, overly sensitive people like you.”
“Are you kidding me, you condescending asshole? You don’t have the slightest clue about the life of ordinary people! You’re living in your little Chris Cuomo bubble where everything is perfect and there’s nothing daddy can’t take care of and call me sensitive? I’m thrilled to see how you will be able to handle yourself out in the real world.”you were yelling as well by now, just lashing out to hurt him the way he had hurt you with what he said.
“Don’t act like you fucking know anything about me.“ He shouted, his face clenched in a mask of fury. He opened his mouth to continue, but you spoke first, your voice flat now.
“You’re right. I don’t know you at all.” With that, you turned around and left the garden, running back to your dorm before anyone could see your tears. He would always be the same asshole, and you were mad at yourself for ever believing anything else.
+++
“Christopher Charles Cuomo.”
The crowd around you cheered, whistles and shouts erupting all over the place. Chris climbed the stage, looking unusually serious in his black robe and cap. He took his diploma, shook hands with the dean, and then turned around with the most brilliant smile on his face. He looked carefree, and happy, and when he raised his hand to wave at the crowd, your whole class hollered for him.
“He is so incredibly hot.” Some girl swooned behind you, and you just rolled your eyes, trying to suppress the little stab of sadness you still felt about how you parted ways with him two nights ago.
But when you looked up to the stage again, he was gone, and in that moment you realized that it was very unlikely that you would see Chris Cuomo ever again.
#Chris Cuomo#chris cuomo imagine#chris cuomo fanfiction#chris cuomo fic#chris cuomo x reader#cnn#cnn anchors#fanfiction#request
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
School Days (part 5)
Warning - smut
Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone
Cillian's 18th birthday was days away. You and Liane were shopping in Cork city, trying to find the perfect gift for him.
"You know, Ann Summers is here somewhere y/n..." She smirked, you responded with a slap on her shoulder.
"We've only had sex a few times Liane, I don't think we're quite there yet!"
"I'm not talking about bondage stuff! They do some really nice lingerie sets! I was thinking maybe when mom and dad take the kids on holiday you and Cillian could have the house to yourself for a night?" Your parents were due to go to their holiday apartment in Sligo the same weekend of Cillian's birthday. You and Liane were staying behind as you both had work that weekend and couldn't get the time off.
"Where will you be?"
"I'll be at Liam's - his mum ADORES me!" She laughed, linking her arm with yours and dragging a reluctant you over to the Ann Summers shop.
*************************************************************
"So where does your ma think you are tonight?" You asked that Saturday evening, letting Cillian in.
"Yours. My parents are a lot more liberal than yours y/n!" He laughed, kissing you and heading into the lounge.
"Will they tell my parents??"
"God no, they're not crazy! Don't worry - we're fine." He sat himself on the sofa and held his arm out for you to join him. You sank into his embrace.
"Happy birthday baby."
"Not til tomorrow, but thank you. Dad's taking me for my first legal pint before dinner."
"Can I give you your present early?" You smiled up at him.
"Well I'm not going to say no, am I?" You took his hand and led him through to your bedroom - a room he'd never been allowed in before. He smiled looking around at the room - the photo collage of you and him on the wall, the necklace he'd bought you for Christmas hanging off your mirror on the dressing table. The Christmas card he'd bought you, framed on the window sill with a pressed flower from the bouquet he'd given you. Even a seashell from his family holiday in Kerry, pride of place on your bedside table.
"You kept all this?"
"Of course I did, you gave them to me." He pulled you close and kissed you, the kiss quickly becoming more intense. You pushed him backwards to sit on the chair by your dressing table, and stood up in front of him.
Slowly peeling down the straps of your floor length summer dress, you allowed it to fall to the floor, revealing the blue lace bra and panties set, stockings and suspenders Liane had convinced you to buy. You couldn't help but giggle at his eyes, wide and hungry, before they locked with yours.
"Holy fuck... You look amazing... Is this all for me?"
"All for you. Wanna unwrap your present Mr Murphy?"
"Do I... Come here..." You stood in front of him and lifted one foot onto his knee. His fingers took the stocking, unclipping it before sliding it down your leg slowly. You shuddered slightly at the feel of his fingers brushing over your thighs.
"Sensitive, aren't we?" He smirked, before repeating the action with your other leg. Once they were both removed, his hands roamed along the inside of your thighs, parting your legs slightly and brushing over your clothed mound softly. You bit your lip to control yourself - you wanted this to last as long as possible. You stopped his hands, and lifted his t-shirt over his head. Straddling his thighs, you placed kisses over his neck and jawline, tracing the tip of your tongue up from his jaw to just below his ear, sending very visible shivers down his spine, a low moan emitting from his lips. You hips rocked back and forth over him, his hands firmly on your backside edging you closer so your clit pressed against the straining bulge in his jeans.
"I want to try something..." You whispered in his ear.
"Yeah? What you got in mind?" You stood up and pulled a bag from under your bed. His eyes widened more at the Ann Summers logo emblazoned across it. You pulled out the handcuffs, dangling them in front of him.
"I don't trust you not to touch me when I do this..." You smiled, moving behind him and locking his hands behind his back on the chair.
"What exactly is it you're planning on doing?" He asked, as you fiddled with the buttons on his jeans.
"Wouldn't be a surprise if I told you now, would it?" He lifted his hips for you to pull his jeans and boxers down to his ankles, he kicked them away eagerly. Kneeling on front of his, you took his hard cock in your hand, stroking it up and down like he'd shown you, squeezing the tip and base, just how he liked it. You also took his balls in your left hand, rolling them around your fingers, squeezing occasionally drawing a deep groan from him. Your right hand focused on the base of his cock, you took the tip into your mouth, a long, drawn out suck making him shake underneath you.
"Not gonna last if you keep doing that..." You smirked at his comment, and resumed your ministrations on him, taking absolutely no mercy at his begging for you to slow down.
Your mouth moved on him faster, his hips were bucking wildly, you could hear the chains on the handcuffs rattling as he pulled against them.
"Baby... I'm gonna come... Y/n don't stop..." A deep groan, almost primal, as he released into your mouth. You took every drop he had, swallowing it down.
"Birthday present number one done..." You smiled, watching him catch his breath.
"There's more?"
"I certainly hope so. Just need to get you going again," you smiled, your hand brushing over his still semi-hard cock making him gasp. You sat on the edge of your bed with your legs open, moving the lace panties to one side. The hunger in his eyes driving your confidence higher. Sliding one finger through your folds, your eyes never left his as you drew the wetness up and circled your clit slowly. His eyes moved from yours to your fingers, back up again. He barely breathed, watching you pleasure yourself in front of him.
"You gonna make yourself come for me?" You nodded in response, and his cock twitched, coming back to life quickly.
Your fingers worked their magic on your clit, rubbing it slowly at first then getting quicker, pushing against it a little harder.
"You like watching me Cillian? My fingers rubbing myself?" He nodded, words barely possible now for him. He pulled against his restraints, making you chuckle. Watching his now fully erect cock twitch was turning you on further, your orgasm getting close.
"You look beautiful doing that... Moan for me, let me hear you..." You happily complied, low moans coming from your lips as you felt that familiar knot down below start to unravel. Your hips rocked involuntarily against your fingers.
"I'm coming baby... I'm coming..." Your orgasm hit you like a steam train, panting his name as you came. Throwing your head back, pausing your fingers and holding your legs open, letting him see how your pussy twitched as your orgasm passed through you.
"Jesus... Let me touch you now, please... I need to fuck you..." He panted, barely able to hold himself together. You calmed, your waves subsiding slightly before walking over to him and straddling his legs again. Hovering over his hard cock.
"That was present number two... Are you ready for number three?" He nodded, and you leaned down to whisper in his ear. "I'm on the pill now..." He nearly came there and then at the thought of fucking you raw, biting his lip hard as you sank onto him. You hadn't been on top before, but remembered Liane's advice. Just like dancing...
Your hips ground against him, his breathing hitching in his throat as you moved. It took a few minutes to find a rhythm that was comfortable, but once you found it there was no stopping you. Your hips bounced and rocked against him, every thrust hitting parts of you not reached before, the pleasure was so intense you felt like you had no control over your own body anymore.
"Ride me... Fuck yes... You feel so fucking good..." His words edged you closer, you could feel another orgasm building, taking you by surprise. Your hands on his shoulders, both of you moaning and gasping, foreheads pressed together and eyes locked.
"Fuck... Cillian... You feel so good buried inside me... Filling me up... Fucking me raw..." Your breath caught in your throat as that coil in your stomach built up again, a release coming so quickly it took your breath away. Your walls contracting hard around him as you came again, your second orgasm flooding you, and him, as your juices flowed onto his groin and thighs. His release came moments after yours, the feel of your walls clenching him was too much.
Coming down from your highs, foreheads still pressed together, breathing deep. You reached round, grabbing the key from the dresser and unlocked his handcuffs, making a mental note to thank Liane profusely for persuading you to do this. His hands now free, he couldn't get them on you fast enough, wrapping them under your arms and lifting you, careful not to pull out, carrying you over to the bed. Pressing his body against yours on top of you, his nose brushing against yours.
"That was the best birthday present I think I've ever had..." He grinned, slowly moving his hips, his cock definitely softening inside you now and slipping out. Another mental note made to wash the sheets before your family came home tomorrow night.
"There are actual gifts downstairs babe, I didn't just do this," you laughed.
"I wouldn't have minded either way - you will always be enough for me. Always. Love you.."
"I love you. Chinese for dinner?"
"When have I ever turned that down?" Pulling your clothes back on, you both headed back downstairs.
You were making out on the sofa after you'd eaten, the TV on behind you but neither of you paying attention to it. You were on your back, Cillian on top of you, a hand on your breast and his hips rocking into yours.
A man's voice from the doorway broke the two of you apart suddenly.
"What the hell is going on here?!"
65 notes
·
View notes
Text
If you were a Durmstrang Student (Draco x reader)
Warnings: Bodily harm, physical fighting, fluff, panic attacks, alluding to... Ahem... Doing the do
Notes: I'm not saying Durmstrang is like this all of the time. It's just an idea that came to mind. And also the fact that in the books that headmaster made me UNCOMFORTABLE.
So you spent your first year of school in Durmstrang
As an American
You obviously didn't do well considering: A) Language barrier and B) everyone was so serious all of the time
You took on a serious demeanor and the first time your parents saw the school they kind of realized you hated it.
You learned discipline from them but jesus, at what cost?
Finally your parents decided to find a better fit after moving elsewhere.
You basically did walkthroughs of different schools
And you saw Hogwarts and thought: "Damn. I wanna go here."
You running into a blonde boy who couldn't take his eyes off of you.
Apologizing for it and him noticing the uniform.
"Sorry, are you from Durmstrang?" He asked.
"Yes I am." You nodded.
You being able to sit in the great hall while your parents work out the kinks.
Draco telling you to sit with Slytherin
You telling the Slytherins about your time at Durmstrang
"Do you like it?" A student asked.
"Not really. Everyone is so... Emotionless. It's more of a military academy than a wizarding school." You muttered.
Draco noticed the look on your face.
You weren't exactly happy with it and he could tell that you were being honest
"Surely there's something you look forward to while you're there?" A student asked.
You pondered and then laughed.
"Does sparring count?" You asked.
Them not getting it.
"Sparring. Like fighting with rules?" You asked.
"Sorry you guys... Duel?" Someone else asked.
"No. Sparring. Like physical fighting not magic. We're trained with magic and physical strength it's why we're good at quidditch." You explained.
A few students went "Oooh" as a response
You were a bit of an odd ball to Draco but something told him you were definitely a Slytherin.
Well he was right.
After the great hall Dumbledore ultimately decided to allow you to transfer and took you back to the office for a sorting.
The hat pondered between houses and decided slytherin was the best for you.
The next school year Draco saw you in Diagon Alley but couldn't tell if he was hallucinating or actually seeing you.
Then he saw you on the train and gaped.
"You're... Here? And in Slytherin?!" He asked noticing the robes.
You laughed. "Yes, I was in the middle of the transfer process when you met me." You said.
He of course stuck with you, him finding out more personal things
Your birthday, your favorite things, more stories about Durmstrang
He was really excited to learn more about you.
You really enjoyed spending time with this boy
And as he listened to you he started to become really grateful that his parents decided against Durmstrang
Yes, they may have been prestigious. But considering he could tell something happened there that seemed to bother you, Draco was glad he never went.
Occasionally Draco would notice certain things here and there
Like a scar on your hand that went to your wrist
The scar on your neck that you tried to hide
Why were there so many scars?
There was a reason indeed for those.
And that was that damn headmaster
For the less obedient students, physical punishment was not off limits
Your parents were unaware of that until after you transferred
You usually stood up for the little guys and often got in trouble for it
You hated him. You hated that headmaster more than you could say.
Whenever you were asked about your scars you'd go quiet and appear to just be seething.
Draco couldn't tell why you'd get so upset over them but he never asked
Because of your need to stand up for the little guy however, you did snap at Draco for mocking Longbottom
He didn't understand why you cared but you clearly did
Harry noticed it and so did Ron
Both of them started talking to you, which naturally pissed off Draco
And some insults were thrown and you showed little to no reaction
You may have been a little shorter than the boys at the school but when you go to a school where physical altercations were a regular thing, verbal insults don't bother you as much.
You did however hate hearing them from Draco. That upset you.
He could tell he went too far and later apologized around Christmas
You accepted the apology and his attitude slowly began to change from stuck up to more sarcastic than anything.
His parents were pleased to know his new friend was a Slytherin and from Durmstrang.
Your parents worked for the ministry (thus why you moved multiple times) and you ended up meeting them at a dinner over the summer
"Did you enjoy your time at Durmstrang?" Narcissa asked.
Your eyes almost seemed to glaze over, all of the adults took notice and immediately knew something was off
"....Yes. I did." You said in almost a trance
Draco rose a brow noticing you'd never answered like that before
And then he realized: the times he'd heard you answer were to students. You never answered the adults when asking that.
It was most likely an enforced reaction for you.
"...How was it really?" Lucius asked.
"...I need to be excused." You said leaving abruptly.
Your mother sighed and shook her head. "She hasn't been the same since her time there..." Your mother admitted.
"It's like they still are controlling her, even when she's not there." Your father sighed.
Both of Draco's parents were now glad they never enrolled Draco there.
"Can I go look for Y/n? She looked upset." Draco asked.
Both of your parents nodded and he found you rather quickly.
You were in the library, sitting by a small fire in the fireplace.
You looked like you were crying.
"Y/n?" Draco asked.
You wiped your eyes. "Hi Draco." You said.
"You don't have to pretend, it's just me." He assured.
You sighed. "Why does everyone always want to know about that damn school?" You muttered.
"Probably because most people stay there when they're enrolled." He shrugged.
You shook your head. "It's not fair that I lost a year of my time to them." You muttered.
He kneeled next to your seat. "Then we'll have more fun to make up for that year." Draco assured.
You smiled at him and he smiled at you
It was the first time your heart really skipped a beat with him and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
The next time you saw Draco his hair wasn't slacked anymore and he was taller
He noticed you were a lot more prettier than usual too
The two of you never left each other's side unless you had to
You ended up having fun with him that year
You were the one to stop Buckbeak from injuring Draco that year
You stood there between the two, making sure that the creature wouldn't harm him.
"Rest easy there little guy... He's all bark and no bite don't worry." You said to Buckbeak, bowing to him.
Buckbeak bowed to you and you smiled.
Draco found you very attractive when that happened too, your smile usually made him notice you more.
Hogsmeade being really fun.
Ron and Hermione both laughing as you had a snowball fight with them.
Draco reading in the corner trying to avoid talking to them
Him feeling the snow hit his arm.
"Did you just... Throw snow at me?" He asked.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh lighten up Draco--"
And then a snowball hurdled towards her and you were laughing.
Having a moment where you both tripped midsnowball fight and fell onto each other.
You being a blushing mess and him helping you up.
You screaming after Harry just popped up next to you.
Poor bastard forgot that you went to the wizarding equivalent to a military academy so you kind of....
Drop kicked him.
"Oh my God Harry I am so sorry!" You said helping him up.
"Christ Potter! Where'd you come from!?" Draco said surprised.
"Can you stand, oh God tell me you can stand!?" You said panicked.
He assured you he was fine.
And then asked you to show him how to do that.
So it turned to you teaching the group self defense
No surprise, your best class was "Defense against the dark arts"
Draco loved seeing you passionate about it too
His parents sending you a Christmas gift
Which was a cane! That doubled as a blade
You and Draco were the only two that knew that and it was going to stay that way
Lucius' mind set when he bought it was "Watch that headmaster try to touch her now. Bastard."
No one really understood how terrifying you found that headmaster until the boggart lesson
No surprise: it was him
Everyone was confused and Remus saw the pure terror on your face
You were so scared and it was obvious from the shaking
Remus handled it and talked to you after class
He knew something was up and hated to see you anxious
You would stay in his classroom when the younger students would bombard you with questions
Draco would sit with you two
Days where you both sat in there, him sitting in a seat and using another as a footrest while you sat next to him smiling and laughing.
Oh Remus knew you liked him
You noticed Hermione showing at random times
You were confused until the day that you and the group found out that Lucius somehow caught wind of the fact that Buckbeak almost hurt you and Draco.
You guys went on a rescue mission
Draco was with you guys because if it was important to you then damn it, it was important to him
So the plan didn't exactly... Go to plan
Finding out your favorite teacher was a werewolf wasn't in the plan
Neither was finding out that that same teacher was basically housing a convict.
Or discovering Harry's parents were killed by Ron's pet rat
You almost killing Peter with your Christmas gift but being caught off guard by the fact that REMUS WAS A WEREWOLF
All of you swearing not to tell another soul about anything.
The group becoming closer to Draco.
Draco's family actually offered to have you over for the summer and you accepted
Lucius noticing Draco's smile when you were present
You enjoying Narcissa's company.
You were a little oblivious to them being supporters of the dark Lord but that mainly came from the fact that weird behavior wasn't unusual in Durmstrang
Going to the World Quidditch game and basically freezing up because the Durmstrang headmaster was near you.
You having to relocate with Draco because you were on the verge of a panic attack
"H-He's here Draco-- I-I can't" you hyperventilated.
Arthur Weasley finding you. "Oh dear... You poor thing, why don't you come with us to the tent, we'll make tea?" He offered.
You accepted and Harry swore he'd punch the shit out of the headmaster if he came near you.
You all laughed but then you heard screaming.
You basically defending them, again with your Christmas present from Lucius
Coming face to face with a death eater and having a blade put to your neck
Draco sneaking up behind them and knocking them out before bolting.
Somehow you were calm for that.
Truth be told: that wasn't uncommon at Durmstrang either.
The school year starting off with you finding out that Durmstrang would be with you
You naturally freaked the hell out
Especially when they introduced the schools and the headmaster noticed you.
You were shaking the entire time
Then there was one student who you saw that seemed to calm you
Viktor Krum
He took his seat with you and almost seemed to be like a big brother
Course Draco was so jealous he couldn't see that
You seemed a little less anxious when Krum was present and that mainly came from the fact that when you were in trouble at Durmstrang, Krum would step in.
You being excited for Viktor when he was selected
Then said excitement disappearing when Harry's name popped out.
You asking if there was anyway to take his place, practically begging.
You couldn't. But you were allowed to help him if he asked for it.
Then the first trial came up.
And the only thing you heard was "Y/N, HELP!"
You immediately ran down there and fought a fucking dragon.
Harry narrowly escaping with the egg and you.
You coming back to the stands and Draco being so relieved that he kissed you
In front of everyone.
Krum smiling like an idiot because his little sister was in love.
Then it became you and Draco doing things together all of the time
Days where you sat in the astronomy tower, looking out at the school and enjoyed each other's company.
Draco holding you in his arms while reading in the common room.
Nose kisses. He loved it when you kissed his nose
Asking you to the Yule ball
You saying yes because DUH.
You ending up being apart of Viktor's Trial
Draco being confused on where you were until someone mentioned that a faculty member asked you to be a part of this.
Draco's heart dropping
Viktor coming out of the water with you.
Your first words were "Whoever decided this would be fun right before winter can actually bite me!"
Fleur coming up empty handed and you knowing there was a child down there
You dropping everything and charging towards the water
The Durmstrang headmaster stopping you and saying "This isn't your challenge girl."
You pulling back your arm with this look that could kill
You growling out "I don't care." Before jumping back in.
Draco almost passing out because he thought he was going to lose you.
Viktor assuring him that you could do this.
You coming back up with Gabrielle
Draco wrapping you in his coat and holding your hands while breathing on them to keep you warm.
Him walking you back to the common room while everyone else was celebrating
Maybe he helped you change
Him seeing the full extent of why you truly feared the headmaster.
Scars were basically all over your back
He didn't care about them being there, he cared about why they were there.
You didn't actually do anything.
I mean yes: he did see you shirtless
But other than that he turned his back.
He wouldn't stop glaring at that headmaster whenever he was close by.
Actually, most of Slytherin seemed to be pissed.
Because when one of their own was hurt, that's when you should expect DEATH.
The Yule ball coming up and Narcissa being made aware of the fact that you were Draco's date.
Her sending you a dress
Viktor walking you down the stairs to Draco and then waiting for Hermione
Draco thinking "She is so out of my league"
You and him dancing together with smiles and laughter
Him kissing you before going to his dormitory
Both of you thinking about each other the whole night until you both went to the common room and fell asleep on the couch
No one daring to separate you two
Watching the final challenge and seeing Harry come back
Cedric being on the ground and Harry in a shocked state
You sprinting down there to make sure he was okay
"H-He wanted me to bring him back.... His parents"
You just hugged your friend until Mad eye came over
You knowing damn well that this was just the beginning of something massive
You preparing yourself over the summer by physical training.
The Malfoy's acting even weirder than last time
You learning that they were supporters of the dark lord
Them wanting to genuinely keep you safe
You agreeing to join up when the time came
Then you turning into a double agent
Both you and Draco did actually
Your shocked faces when Snape was in the Manor
Umbridge really liking you for some reason
You secretly helping Fred and George
You finding out that Umbridge was hurting students and you stepping in
Then when she threatened you-- Draco stepping in with some more serious threats.
When she was dragged off by centaurs you all celebrated
Maybe Draco and you celebrate in your own way
Maybe you two had some... Fun
Him waking up next to you and thinking he was the luckiest guy in the world
You and him becoming inseparable
You finding out about the battle at the ministry
You and Draco sneaking off to the Burrow and finding Harry so emotionally drained.
You hugging Harry as he just cried for hours
Draco knowing damn well this was going to get ugly very soon
Him knowing there was a plan in the works with the dark lord
He just didn't know that the plan would involve Voldemort staying in the Manor
Pt 2 coming next
106 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jump (Colt x MC, RoD)
A/N: This was a request from @shondideaira-blog of Colt/MC getting pregnant young; thank you so much for the request but this is the reason that no one should ever ask me because 1) it will take 75 years and 2) it’s probably not what you want anyways. Thank you again for requesting this, I am so sorry it took so long, and I hope you enjoy it!
Length: ~5,400 words
Rating/Warnings: R (Swearing. Unplanned pregnancy.)
Summary: Colt’s path has taken some sharp turns but somehow, it takes him to the right place anyways.
Colt Kaneko is 42.
Colt is 42, and he feels every single one of those years bearing down on him when he slouches into his desk chair. Hours spent wrenching on an import have made his back tight, and even the sultriest of massages hasn’t loosened the knot that’s lived for weeks between his shoulder blades.
He rolls his shoulders, shaking out the crick in his neck, and squints at the numbers on the screen. Right as he focuses on the first row, his cell phone blares and he reaches over, grateful for the distraction, picking up before the second ring.
“Hello.” His voice is gruff, and he stands, pacing the 15 steps to the office door.
“Hey, Pop.”
“Well?” He paces the 15 steps back. “How’d it go?” Jackson sighs on the other end, and Colt’s heart lurches. “Well?”
“I…” The tone of his voice shifts, and Colt can hear the smile breaking over his son’s face. “I got the job!.”
“I knew you could do it.”
“I mean, I still need to finish my thesis so I really need to hunker down , but… I got it. Don’t tell Mom yet, ok? I wanna call her after she’s home from work.”
Colt smiles fondly; Jackson’s studious nature definitely wasn’t from him. Colt would have bailed on a thesis faster than he bailed out of university. He wasn’t the one who fought tooth and nail to graduate university; he wasn’t the one who would write out flashcards in one hand while rocking an infant in the other. “I won’t.”
He looks at the darkened phone screen for long moments after his son hangs up. Every single one of his 42 years has been both eternal and fleeting; he can only shake his head with a chagrined smile as he turns back to the computer.
~~~~~~
Colt Kaneko is 6.
Colt is 6, but he’s not deaf and he’s not dumb, either. He knows his parents are fighting just behind the closed office door. His leg swing, clanging against the toolbox he’s perched on, and he drums anxious fingers against the metal beneath him.
He waits, watching the mechanics bustle around, watches the other people who work for his dad (they aren’t mechanics but he doesn’t know what they do but he knows enough to avoid them when they storm through the shop lugging briefcases and boxes). Every so often, he can hear raised voices, shouts from the office before the bitter tones become unintelligible. He doesn’t know what they’re fighting about, but it’s probably about him.
This weekend, he was supposed to stay with his dad but, as soon as his mom caught sight of the crowded shop floor and gleaming new sports car, she stormed right up to Pop and dragged him to the office by his wrist. His staff looked on in shock, like they couldn’t believe this tiny pipsqueak of a lady could force the great Teppei Kaneko to heel.
He wasn’t shocked at all.
People fear his dad. It’s obvious in the terror in their eyes, the way they rush to do his bidding and agree to his every suggestion. Even the mechanics who work the floor here, they stay out of Pop’s way, especially when he is angry. He’s seen his dad batter walls, slam wrenches into windshields, and, on one memorable occasion, punch someone in the jaw before he realized that Colt had crept downstairs.
He still remembers the crunch of fist against bone.
It’s power, how his dad uses his brain and his brawn and his anger to force others to bend to his will, and Colt wants it, bad. He wants more than anything to be like his dad.
The door slams open, and his mother rushes from the office; her eyes are livid, wild, and Colt watches as she whirls on Pop again, stepping close to snarl up at him.
His mom is never scared of Pop, not even on his worst day, and, as he hops down off the toolbox and saunters to her side, he can’t hide the awe from his face. Her eyes narrow and she delivers one last barb, words so low Colt can’t hear them, but he catches the shock flitting across Pop’s face. It must have been something brutal.
“Colt, come on.” His mother gestures to him, and he frowns.
“But-”
“Colt, now.”
He bites his tongue, shooting one last wounded look at his father before following her past gleaming cars, out to the lobby. There, the receptionist sits, burly and oversized in a tiny desk chair, his one eye staring down where stubby fingers fiddle with metal, soft cloth rhythmically swiping over dark steel.
“Jesus, Rocco,” his mom growls. “Colt is right here.”
“Sorry, ma’am.” Rocco looks down at him, and Colt takes a step back. The man is hardened, imposing, tattooed biceps as big as Colt’s head and eyepatch covering a crater of puckered skin that haunts his nightmares. However, as fearsome as he is in darkness, now Rocco just nods, shuffling the metal into a giant lockbox; Colt can’t see what he was cleaning before he closes the lid, clang heavy and loud in the small room. “I’ll put it away.”
His mom nods and briskly walks out the front door; Colt follows, shooting a cautious glance behind her, and he needs to hustle up the street to catch up to her.
“What was that, Ma?”
“What do you mean?”
“What did Rocco have?”
She stops, turning away from the shop window to bring a soft hand to his forehead, running her fingers through his hair affectionately. “Nothing, baby. You don’t need to worry about him.”
He studies her, and her dark eyes glow warmly. He can’t help but smile. His mom’s not scared of Pop, and she’s not scared of Rocco either.
His mom’s not scared of anything.
Maybe Colt actually wants to be like her.
~~~~~
Colt Kaneko is 19.
Colt is 19 and his world is ending.
“What do you mean?”
“Colt, you heard me, come on.” Ellie bites her lip and stares at him, eyes imploring, and all he can think is that his life is over.
Technically, his life already is over. When his father immolated himself in front of his eyes, when the shop burned to the ground, when legacy and past and future all disappeared into raging flames that scorched his eyebrows and scorched his soul, it ended, in a blaze as hot as the anger that races through his veins.
But now he is cold, freezing, the shock chilling him to his core; when he exhales, he’s surprised that his breath comes out clear, not floating in grey tendrils through the air.
He always has a plan. Hell, he always has multiple plans, one to execute and then a few backups, and each of those plans has multiple escape routes. Fuck, half the time his backup plans have backup plans, timelines and contingencies mapped and traced in advance. He can leave nothing to chance. Nothing can be open to interruption. Every second, every step, hell, every breath happens precisely according to plan.
But it’s hard to plan for something that, in your wildest dreams, you never, ever saw coming.
That Ellie Wheeler is standing in front of him is a shock. That she just said the three words he thinks she said is an absolute catastrophe.
“I can’t… I can’t have heard you correctly.”
“Colt! For crying out loud!” Her fingers pull through the curls surrounding her face and she looks uneasy, uncertain. Her eyes pool with tears and he would, he should close the distance and pull her into his arms, but his leaden feet won’t fucking move. “I’m… I’m pregnant.”
“How…”
She rolls her eyes. “You know how, I don’t think you need a recap.”
“But… mine?”
“Are. You. Kidding. Me?” Her eyes flash dangerously and he is reminded, for not the first time, that no one should underestimate her. Her brain and her fire attracted him to her most; to see them turn on him is disorienting in an already unsettled conversation.
“But… Logan?”
“Are you…” She trails off and it’s as if her fight dissipates into the night air, slim shoulders falling. “Colt….” She peers at him imploringly, shimmering eyes reflecting the moonlight. “I’m pregnant with your child.”
He continues to gape at her, mouth open, mind frozen, and when that continues for far too long, he shuts his jaw and stares at his feet. Somewhere in the distance, a car backfires, echoing like a shot against the concrete, and still he studies his boots, the scuff marks on his left toe, the shoelace on his right unraveling.
He doesn’t know what she wants him to say. He doesn’t know what he wants to say.
“What are you gonna…”
The fire in her eyes flares, positively scorching. “What am I gonna what…”
“Ellie, come on.” He rakes a hand through his hair; his stomach is dropping and the concrete floor underneath his feet spins. Colt makes plans; that’s what he does. It’s in his brain, his blood, but all of his quick thinking leaves him now (he imagines a toddler stumbling around the shop floor, he imagines a child being caught in the crosshairs of a rival, he imagines image after image after image and every single scenario flying through his head makes him sicker and sicker). “This… I… we can’t really…”
“We can’t really what,” she spits out.
He rocks back on his heels. “Ellie, I’m building up the crew. This isn’t exactly the time for-”
“Don’t you think this changes things?!?” Her voice cracks at the end, breaking pitch, and Colt winces. “Don’t you think this changes everything?”
He blinks at her, numbly; his plans have plans and he can see them all sliding away from him, slipping from his grasp while he stands there gaping. His plans of rebuilding the shop, brick by brick and board by board. His plans of rebuilding the crew, regaining the reputation and influence of his father and his father’s father and his father’s father’s father.
He can see all of them falling through his fingers like ash, grinding into the concrete at his feet.
She’s sniffling, tears welling and spilling over, streaks of moisture dripping down her cheeks, her jaw, skin he’s touched and caressed and kissed, now marred with sadness that he caused. “This messed up my plans too, but it’s like you don’t even think about that, it’s all about you and the crew-“
“All I fucking do is think about you!” He shouts and grimaces when her eyes widen; it seems far too close a reveal to scream raw into the night.
“If that were true, we would be together.”
“Ha. Like it’s that easy,” he scoffs. “Are you gonna stay here, build up the crew with me?”
“With a child?!?”
His eyes fall to her stomach; she looks exactly the same, but everything has changed. “With the future legacy of the Mercy Park Crew.”
“Ha. No.” She crosses her arms over her chest, chin raised. “I’m not staying, not letting that be our baby’s path, our baby’s life!”
“Then I guess you decided.”
“I guess so.” She gazes at him; her tears have dried and now something cold and hard fills her eyes instead. He shivers.
He watched her walk away before, returning to her sheltered life and her sheltered school and her sheltering father, but that hadn’t felt as final as this moment. Back then, he swore that she would realize her true path, and he was determined to build a legacy for her to return to.
But now, watching her walk away, it feels like the end-of him, of them, of every dream he had been working toward, of any legacy he wanted to leave, of every plan he wanted to run.
There was no fire here, but the wreckage was worse.
~~~~~
Colt Kaneko is 26.
Colt is 26 so, through his 26 years of life, he has developed a well-honed understanding of what he likes and what he dislikes.
And Colt hates camping.
He’s a city person, at home in a concrete jungle; the blare of frantic car horns and the savory aroma of food trucks are comforting, familiar. He’s in his element among traffic and skyscrapers and crowds of people bustling around; his blood flows like the transit system, racing with the practiced turns of Inglewood, flying down Western until the Pacific stretches in front of him, wide blue expanse of waves roaring and roiling.
He is not at home here. The woods are too still, a grim silence that is only occasionally punctuated by a forlorn bird call. The landscape is unchanging, trees and bushes immobile and dull, and both his brain and his limbs ache to go, to move, to act.
Ellie had insisted they do this. The first time she asked, he said no, along with the second and the third. But finally, she had worn him down, and the hope and excitement radiating from her almost made it worth it.
Almost.
Because here in the silence and the stillness, his thoughts are too loud and there is nothing-no car, no motorcycle, no job, no plan-nothing to distract him from the voices screaming in his head.
All he can do is sit with the thoughts and regrets, failed plans and shitty jobs running through his head, and he pouts, leaning against a fir tree and crossing his arms.
Across the field, Ellie and Jackson don’t even notice. They are huddled together on a chair intended for one, but his knobby knees and gangly arms bend and contort so he can curl onto his mother’s lap as she tries to get a burnt marshmallow off of a stick. Jackson giggles and Colt’s breath catches. The campfire in front of them wafts smoke into the night sky, embers dancing and floating until they disappear amidst the skyline, and the flickering flame lights Ellie’s face in a warm glow.
He can’t stop staring.
He’s not blind, he knew she was attractive the second he saw her, but she’s fucking gorgeous here, completely at ease, hair undone and tendrils curling around her beaming face, campfire reflected in her brown eyes.
Apparently fire doesn’t always destroy; it can illuminate, too.
When he inhales again, the smoke from the fire mingles with pine behind him. The branches over his head move softly in the breeze.
So he sits.
And watches.
And breathes.
And when Ellie motions to him, eyes sparkling and dancing in firelight, he smiles and wipes his hands on his jeans before he stands.
It’s warm by the flame, his son splaying out next to him while he gathers his wife in his arms.
Soon, the fire burns down to ash, red glow still peeking through the soot next to him; Ellie dozes, nudging him with a cold nose, but he only watches the fire dim and dim until there is nothing.
~~~~~
Colt Kaneko is 19.
Colt is 19 but his fake says he’s 23, so it’s easy to slip into this dive bar and slide over to the bar for a shot of the strongest whiskey they have. He swallows it down, and it burns, caustic on his tongue and in his throat before angrily churning in his stomach.
“Another.”
The second shot goes down easier, as does the third and the fourth, and he’s debating another, head resting on an unsteady fist, elbow heavy on the grime that coats the bar top. The edges of the world are swaying and the bartender slides a bowl in front of him, free popcorn an obvious insinuation that he’s worried about Colt’s sobriety. He’s just about to ask for another drink out of spite when his phone dings. Again.
He pulls it out of his jacket pocket, two fingers unsteadily reaching in and easing it out as if it might bite him. The black case gleams in the dull bar lighting and his reflection shakes, his trembling fingers dropping it on the bar top as he stares at the blue notification light.
The liquor is starting to hit; he can feel the din of the bar recede, static in his mind growing louder, but it’s no comfort. That notification light is the reason he sped to the nearest dive, the reason he had to dull the ache with a succession of precisely poured shots in tiny glasses.
He doesn’t drink often; liquor numbs his mind, turns the world into blurry shades of grey, and he needs his mind: his focus is perpetually on the next job, the next hit, the next score. There is only time for action, movement, not feelings, and alcohol dulls his motions and brings emotions to the surface, intrusive and unbidden in the haze of this bar and his brain.
Is he worried? Fearful? Longing, desperate amidst the solitude, and missing the one person he understands more than anything else in his life?
Craving the one person who understood him?
He opens his phone and sighs. It’s only a text from a contact; the words sway in front of his eyes. Even though he squints, the text is unintelligible, and he needs to drop the phone on the bar, screen down.
Even though he can’t see it, he can still see the Instagram image every time he blinks, back of his eyelids taking the shape of Ellie’s smile, her arms clasped tightly over the shoulders of her college friends, stately building in the back, ivy crawling up over the bricks. And the tiny swell of her stomach, invisible to anyone else, everyone else. But he knew. He knew her body like the back of his own hands, knew every single inch, every single curve, concave and convex, head to toe, and everything in between.
She beams through the image, from his screen to his retinas, indelible and permanent; now that he has seen her, he has seen his child growing from thousands of miles away, he can’t think.
For once, Colt is unsure.
He had always made his plans and executed his plans, schemes piling up and winding down, cars delivered, reputation rebuilt, brick by brick, car by car. He could see his moves weeks in advance, opportunities unfurling in his mind like moves on an ever-shifting chessboard.
But now, all he could imagine was Ellie, alone at school, then juggling studies with an infant, then someone taking his place.
All he could imagine was him, alone, consumed by job after job, hit after hit, eventually ending in a flaming blast.
And here, at this shitty bar, liquor clouding his mind, drumming his hands on the grainy bar top in front of him in a tense pattern that jostles the uneaten popcorn and the last drops of amber, that future was untenable, unacceptable.
All he wanted was a tiny hand nestled in his, a toddler with Ellie’s curls and his eyes digging into toolboxes and pretending to wrench on cars, a child with his drive and Ellie’s spirit upending his world in the most profound of ways.
All he wanted was her, in whatever way she would have him, wanted her under him and over him and by his side, always, their orbits paralleling each other through plans and schemes... and now a child.
And so he realizes, in this shitty bar with its shitty liquor and the world swaying around him, he knows. Regardless of his plans or his crew and his best scheming, without his input, his path had changed.
~~~~~
Colt Kaneko is 12.
Colt is 12, and this is the farthest east he’s ever been. The drive is never-ending; they left LA two days ago and it has been miserable every second. He hadn’t muttered a word as they inched through the city traffic and left the smog in the rearview; his throat still ached from the yelling, he wasn’t even sure he had a voice left, and apparently his words meant nothing, anyway.
He didn’t even get to see Pop before they left.
And then, they had just left, fled the city, rolling through mountains and motels and endless miles upon miles of concrete, on-ramps and off-ramps and potholes infinite as they drove further and further away from everything he cared about.
The emptiness of the farmland mocks him; he crosses his arms over his chest and glares out the window, sullen and quiet, slouching as far into the door as his limbs will let him.
His mother sighs from the driver’s seat. “Do you want to play a game? ‘I Spy’?”
“No.”
Another sigh. “Do you want to pick the radio station?”
“No.”
“Come on, Colt,” she sighs and her fingers tighten on the steering wheel. He watches the divots deepen in the leather before he petulantly shifts in the seat until he can only see the endless rows of corn beside him, endless blue above. The car is small, stifling next to the expanse of the plains, and he is even smaller, insignificant, powerless, on this dismal drive.
“Can I pick where we stop tonight?”
“Sure!” His mother brightens momentarily, and a bitter flush of victory works its way from the knot in his chest.
“Back home.”
She sighs, her most aggrieved one yet, and his victory is short-lived. They drive in silence for a minute, maybe two, miles of corn fields passing in front of his eyes. The tears prick at his eyes and he blinks them away, focusing on the sway of gold out the window.
Finally, she reaches over, slowly, tentatively, as if calming a skittish animal, patting his forearm and gliding fingertips up to his shoulder before nestling in his hair, rubbing the short strands at the back of his head in a comforting pattern reminiscent of his childhood, when her hands were tender but Pop and the shop and Gramercy Park were anything but.
“I promise you, I promise… you will understand one day.” She sounds tired, exhausted, like the drive has aged her prematurely, like the miles they are speeding by have cost her years of her life. It’s only been 20 hours of driving but, for him, it feels like he is leaving his entire life behind, all 12 years, packed into the truck of this shitty Civic, rolling across the interstate. Her next words are forceful, sure. “You’ll know what it’s to leave everything behind for someone you love, I promise you.”
He wonders what his mom left behind and stares at the fields whizzing by.
~~~~~
Colt Kaneko is 19.
Colt is 19, so it’s been seven years since he made this drive, through Utah, Colorado. Nebraska seems like it will never end and, when he gets to the smaller states in the Midwest, he has no idea where he is, speeding past highway signs so fast that the text blurs in front of him and the only direction he can think is east, east, east.
He had called Ellie, three times in Nevada, four in Colorado, and on the chirp of her voicemail at his tenth call in Iowa, he threw his phone into the cheap motel room wallpaper, sliding against the wall until he plopped onto the floor, head in his hands next to the shattered glass and metal littering the taupe carpet. Once he finally makes it to New York, he’s exhausted, ass numb and knuckles cramping, but he still whips the bikes down the cross-streets and perpendicular angles until he slows to a growling stop in a back alley. He’s lucky he memorized the address, the high-rise dorm that served as his North Star over two thousand miles, and he glides past the loitering smokers armed with grim determination and a winning smile, through a propped emergency door and up four flights of stairs to a nondescript door, exactly the same as the seventeen he stormed by save for who was inside.
He takes a deep breath and knocks.
The rustling inside grows louder, but he’s still not prepared when the door is thrown open, all the words drafted on his interminable drive sailing from his mind when he sees her again.
Her greeting also dies on her lips when she opens the door, jaw dropping, and he uses the second of surprise to look her over. Her hair is thrown back in a sloppy ponytail secured with a felt-tip pen; while her features slide easily into a glare, he catches the exhaustion under her eyes, in the corner of her frown. She’s clad in pajamas, baggy t-shirt covering her torso, and his fingers itch to reach out to greet her and his child, but he’s lost that right; hell, he’s lost all rights.
“Ellie.”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you.” She crosses her arms over her chest and makes no motion to slide away from the doorframe. “I wanted to apologize.”
“You? Apologize? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that in your life.”
He has to avert his eyes from the beam of her glare, laser-hot on him. “I apologize when I have something to apologize for.” Her gaze doesn’t soften and her stance doesn’t change. Fuck. “Ellie…” She raises her eyebrow. Fuck. “Ellie, I’m sorry.”
He waits.
She says nothing.
“Ellie…” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I needed to… I needed to think. I was an idiot.”
“Was?”
“Seriously?!?” He glares, anger flaring. “Are you gonna be a jerk or are you gonna listen?”
“I’m the jerk here?!?” He waits as they stare each other down, both strong-willed and head-strong and he doesn’t know if he’s ever loved her more. “Talk,” she growls
He takes a deep breath and rocks back on his heels. “You surprised me and I needed… I needed some time to think. I… I’m building up the crew and this completely changed my plans. I was focused on avoiding the cops and rebuilding and then I got…”
“Scared?”
“What?” He looks up sharply. “I’m not scared.” She stares through him for so long he fidgets before finally glancing away, abashed. “I was taken by surprise… Surprises aren’t really good in my line of work. I was shocked… and worried… and…” He trails off. The knot in his chest defies words, a tight coil of fear and uncertainty and worry, thick and throbbing.
“Colt...” She crosses her arms over her chest. “It’s ok. I was scared too. But it was worse when you freaked out. I...” Her arms drop, eyes falling to the floor, and what’s left of Colt’s heart crashes. “I felt alone.”
“I know what that’s like,” he mutters, eyes flickering to her torso. “But you’re not. We’re not. Not anymore.”
“Well, I knew that. But you apparently just needed a little reminder.”
He cocks his head, and when the realization hits, his shoulders drop. “You posted that picture on purpose.”
“Of course I did. Colt, I know you. I know how you are with the people you care about. With me.”
“I hate everyone.”
“You love me,” she fires back and he can’t find the strength to deny it. “I know we never talked about it but… I’m scared about a lot right now but I’m not scared about doing this with you.” She blinks wide eyes up at him and takes a deep breath. “You’re a better man than your dad ever was.”
“Not yet.” He once knew his path, could see every single step clear as day. Every move. Every steal. Every job. “But I will be. I fucking swear, I will be.” Now, the path wavers, blurring in his mind.
“Then…” The smile breaking over her face speaks of hope and contentment and love, everything he wants for himself, for his child, everything he ever wanted. “You’re ready for a baby?”
He crosses his arms. “Are we ready? I don’t know if anyone really is. But sometimes you can’t get ready. Sometimes you just need to jump in.”
And, apparently, Colt can change his plan; now that he has a plan, a direction, a goal, there’s only one thing left to do.
She sighs, fingertips curling tight around the doorframe, but a glimmer of hope shines in her eyes. “Does this… does this mean you’re doing this with me?”
~~~~~
Colt Kaneko is 8.
Colt is 8, so he is just learning about acceleration and metric units of distance and the undersea ecosystem below his feet; however, he knows that the drop is long and far and dark.
“I don’t…” He peers over the edge, leaning forward as far as he dares, and pulls back when he feels slightly unsteady, as if the magnetic sway of the ocean could draw him forward into the abyss. “I don’t want to.”
“You will.” The lighter clicks and illuminates his father’s face in flame as he draws it close, taking an inhale to light the cigar, and a plume of exhale floats caustic and smoky around his face. For an instant, with the shadowed moon overhead and the flickering light in front of him, his dad looks more demon than man, smoke rising around him and eyes glowing impatiently in the darkness.
Colt swallows hard. “I can’t-“
“You will.”
“But Pop…” He hazards another look over the edge; he can make out the pale spray of the waves battering the cliff but, deeper into the Pacific, it’s only darkness, inky black, ready to swallow him whole. “I can’t see what’s down there.” His voice comes out as a whine and his face flushes; he sounds like a baby, weak and pathetic. He feels weak and pathetic.
His father slowly puffs the cigar, bud flaring in the night. He is calm, measured, certain. “Often, you know not what is before you. All you know is that you must leap.”
“What does that mean?”
His dad thunders, “It means jump, Colt!”
Colt pauses for a second, fingernails curling hard into his palm as the harsh command echoes through him. The darkness below is scary, but his father is terrifying.
He takes a deep breath.
And he jumps.
~~~~~
Colt Kaneko is 19.
Colt is 19, and he’s standing in the doorway of a dorm in New York City and the girl he would speed and fight and kill for stands before him and he doesn’t know how their life became so messed up but he knows that there isn’t anything that would pull him from her side, from his child’s side, no path more important than the one laid out for him by a girl in pajama pants and a baggy tee.
And he jumps
~~~~~
Colt Kaneko is 42.
Colt is 42 and his wife is 41 and, when he collapses into bed next to her, he feels like he has both lived for centuries and was born this morning. He rolls over to slide under her arm, breathing sleepy breaths against the warmth of her skin.
She looks up from her book, eyebrow raised. “Why were you working so late?”
“Urgh, crap day.”
She sighs, closing the book so she can thread calming fingers through his hair. Gradually, the tension ebbs from his shoulders, his mind, and all he can feel is loved. “Jackson called me,” Ellie says, breaking the silence and stilling her hand.
“Did he?”
“He told me about his new job.”
Colt smiles, lips dragging against the soft curve of her breast. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. He’s so excited.”
“I know.” His mind gets heavy, and it becomes harder to pull his eyelids open again.
“Are you sad he doesn’t want the crew or the shop?”
He glances up. “Maybe a little.” He drags his arm around her stomach to trace hazy shapes against her side.. “But this day was always gonna come; he wasn’t interested in the crew, the shop.”
“Yeah,” she hums, free arm dropping her book on the nightstand. “He was always interested in following his own path.”
“Yeah… he was...” Colt blinks. While his own path meandered and changed, wandering in and out of misbehavior, it had always wound its way back to her open arms. He watches her, settling into the sheets, curling into his arms, and her eyelashes flutter, movement slowing and finally stopping as each tiny lash lay featherlight against her cheek.
His son always had been intent on blazing his own trail.
And just like Colt, that path would lead him just where he needed to be.
.
Tags (pls let me know if you want me to take you off)
Perma
@desireepow-1986 @leelee10898 @emichelle @client-327 @choicesgremlin @brightpinkpeppercorn @thequeenofcronuts @lilyofchoices @choicesarehard
ROD
@omgjasminesimone @mskaneko @lovemychoices @burnsoslow @troublemakerinspace @zaffrenotes
Colt
@deimosensblog @alegria1580 @thefarrari @moonlit-girl-wonder @going-down-downtown@soniadotalves@jolietmaraud @flowerpowell@poeticscolt @zaira-oh-zaira @akrenich @sibella-plays-choices @maxwellsquidsuit @liamzigmichael4ever @octobereighth @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction @theeccentricbibliophile @dancingboba @tempesrature @romewritingshop @shondideaira-blog @winchesterwolves
78 notes
·
View notes
Text
the many sins of tokyo ghoul :re
or: 13 reasons why :re is fucking terrible not clickbait
Disclaimer: I think no matter how long this post gets I’m missing something, so let’s just outline the worst ones. And I mean to be transparent, the only reason I actually read :re was so I could make this post... (and bc i wanted to see the what, five panels of hide) Well, I couldn’t stand hating it without evidence beyond hearsay and General Vibes. But I knew it was gonna be bad, I knew it was going to ruin me jesus christ. Obviously I’m not hating on people that like it, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with genuinely enjoying it (I do genuinely enjoy parts of it, and by parts i mean chapters 1-50 with exceptions and 75) I think it’s wonderful if you can derive joy from it (lmao) but I can say that through my lens in life, there’s so much fucking wrong with this goddamn fucking piece of shit manga and I feel the need to yell about it because i am ✨autism✨ so let’s get going (this is r e a l l y long just a warning)
tl;dr Ishida stay in your fucking lane
1. Transphobia and Homophobia:
alright here we are first off with the big one and if I had to choose, one of Ishida’s greatest sins here. It’s quite unusual in mangas like these to have any sort of representation for such things in and of itself, and yeah of course that annoys me, but having no represntation at all is like so much better than getting actively harmful representation. Most manga that aren’t specifically about those things shy away from those topics, and it’s tiring but it’s normal. You wouldn’t want a mangaka to try to write about something like that without experience or informed opinions. So I say if you can’t write something correct, just don’t write something like that in at all. Ishida clearly,,, does not get this.
And it’s not just the case of Mutsuki, who, well, gets it bad enough, there are three full fucking trans characters Ishida made like, just to shit on.
Big Madame- god, made like that specifically to perpetuate the predatory trans woman trope jesus christ is Ishida friends with JK fuckface Rowling. Ah yes the ugly, human trafficking, predatory, pedophilic killer that tried to make their male child more feminine? Has a dick. Really? Could you be a single bit more transparent about your fucking agenda here? I really don’t have to say much here.
Kanae von Fuckwald- Technically Ishida says here that basically this bitch was just like??? Pretending to be a guy for years just to what?? I don’t even know?? Get together with Tsukiyama? Cause he’s fucking gay or something? I don’t even get it but like i read this post yesterday and that’s a whole ass thermian argument. It’s like “oh well this is fine because well this person’s not actually trans and therefore the representation thing doesn’t apply”... it’s useless. You created the character that way and you made it intentionally to for whatever way promote this idea that people would “pretend” to be a different gender and that eventually they’ll realize that it’s a “lie” and they never really wanted it. This is what you’re saying about the real people who are,,, actually trans? Jesus christ. Also thinking that a twink like that would be trans? God yeah trans guys can be feminine but buddy that’s clearly not what you’re going for here.
And of course, Mutsuki- There’s just... so much wrong here. I mean like. Before we even get into anything about his character and what they did to him let me just discuss his entire design. Buddy like if you had to choose one person in that show to be trans that’s the least likely one. Ah yes, the feminine one. With the androgynous haircut and the shy disposition and the physical weakness compared to the others. God that’s like, a fujoshi’s take on ao3 of what character should be trans. As much as yeah of course, trans guys can be feminine, they are in no way obligated to be such and you shouldn’t make them more so to be more “believably” so. Ask any actual trans person ever. A character like that is just perpetuating the notion of trans guys being inherently more feminine or trying to pretend to be otherwise.ThEn, of course, there’s the ridiculous sexualization, infantilization and fetishization of this character, going through a thousand plot hurdles to make him constantly stripped, put in girls clothing, chased by perverts, assaulted, ET FUCKING CETERA. Give him a fUCKING BREAK. Creating this character the way he’s portrayed in canon (including so called backstory of murdering parents because of sexual and physical abuse) is perpetuating a notion that someone would be a trans guy because of internalized misogyny and/or trauma instead of because they’re just... a guy. It’s just it’s just it’s just Really bad. Plus taking his character, demonizing him and making him like, supposedly love haise (which i Really hate for a thousand reasons, god that’s like, a parent and child type relationship they have there not romantic,,, god,,,) try to like fucking murder touka and stop seeing sense, and then just... return him to being infantalized. God. Jesus christ fucking goddamn it I love Mutsuki and he deserves better.
Oh yeah and then the homophobia, this one’s smaller because... most of the trans people are here to go “it’s gay... wait it’s not Really gay so it’s ok” but I would like to leave a small note here for all the gay characters who got thrown under the bus not just in re but in the original, like, you know, Nico and shit? I really do not know shit about Nico but all the things about Jason? God if I had a thing for one person that you shouldn’t try to portray as representation it’s Jason. IDK what’s up with him and Naki but god it wasn’t healthy. (i’d like to say here that i love naki and i think naki deserves the world but honey there are better heroes than yamori) Anyway yeah I think that’s also bullshit and Ishida should stay in his fucking lane. (or her i guess, i just feel like it’s probably a guy bc of just... so much sexism)
Ok, now that we have the big one out of the way-
2. The mishandling of portrayals of various mental illnesses:
I’m not an expert on this one like I can say about the gays TM but just like in general, the whole manga’s very messy and portrays a lot of gritty stuff, and Ishida clearly attempts to throw in some mental illness for fun, but god fUcking damn it they’re bad. I couldn’t really even give you examples bc it’s pretty widespread and i’m stupid, but it was really like trump throwing paper towels “and you get a demonization, and you get an infantalization, and you get a butchered character, and you get a fetishization-”
3. Ishida having no fucking clue how science works
This particular factoid led me to have a very hard time reading this manga because it went from being about like, yknow, torture and fights and crying and stuff to weird experimentation bullshit and mutated whatever and everyone’s a hybrid now I guess. When I heard this thing about the quinxes, I thought that made no sense, because I was like “yeah but wait,,, how tf does that work didn’t Ishida say earlier that kagune literally were fueled by human meat isn’t that like the entire point the ccg is against?” and then Ishida’s explanation of how they’re not just exactly like Kaneki is that “oh yeah well there’s like, metal around it, so it’s different.” OH YEAH OK THAT MAKES PERFECT SENSE NOW, THANKS.
The thing is... there’s no way of actually regulating that. You couldn’t move a kagune unless it was attached to your cells, and if it’s attached man, it’s attached and it’s part of you. Also yelling “frame two” won’t like make it any bigger lmao, either you’re gonna have it based on theoretical science in this universe or you’re going to have a dumb supernatural magic pokemon fight deal. The whole thing makes no sense. The science issue isn’t just about this either, it’s also about how the entire thing basically undermines the point of the whole story. When you blur the lines between human and ghoul with little to no real rules or basis in real science, every rule kind of just becomes cheap plot convenience.
So the Quinxes can eat human food unless they use their kagune too much, alright, but Kaneki couldn’t eat human food before he’d even ever used his though the only difference between their bodies was this,,, theoretical metal thing?? And Haise... was never really covered, before he went black hair emo bastard and like vored Eto, did he eat human food like the rest of the CCG? He certainly cooked it. And the squad that lived with him wasn’t aware he was a ghoul until he pulled out the kagune. So I’d assume so, but then how could he have a kagune, how could he survive when his body still was like that?
Is it the RC suppressents? Then couldn’t he just have taken those and lived as a human the entire time? Is that all he fucking needed, is that the only difference between human and ghoul? It doesn’t make sense and the rules are bent so much they don’t function anymore. Ishida like write down your rules somewhere even if they’re bullshit, they shouldn’t contradict each other.
Damn man I’m not even going to go into the dumbass rules of the half humans or the special fast aging thing or the fucking,,, folded up cells deal,,, or the Imagination Kagune, or the fucking,,, Dragon, or the zombie ghoul apocalypse or the “whole new species made of just kagune” i don’t even have the time it is fucking ridiculous and I can’t even with it. Physics. Laws of physics. If not biology, at least follow physics Ishida??? Please???? And if you’re not you need to do that consistently??
4. character glow ups actually being character glow downs
(with the exception of nishiki, he baby now, and akira, i think her development was valid af)
God, this one gets me every time. Touka was cool. Touka was fucking badass, she had a complex character with many motivations and wants, and in the original having her eventually kind of soften bc of Kaneki is valid. But taking her and turning her into like literally nothing but Pretty Housewife Yearning For Husband At War? God, kill me. She’s a strong person. She can like Kaneki without the guy being her only character trait. Also uh, Touka and Kaneki being a couple was valid before this change, now I honestly can’t stomach it. Like they were the kind of “both bisexual” m/f couple that we stan. No longer I guess.
She’s the most egregious example, but I’d also like to point out Juuzou, not everything they changed about him is bad, honestly we fucking stan his knife legs, but he’s kind of like a rip off L now? You got rid of his ~unhinged~, we do not stan. I’m on the fence about him bc i think that kind of is a valid transition to adulthood and I guess he’s grown up, but again, why change his fucking hair color? What is the explanation for this?
Also Hinami. I mean, I don’t really care about her a lot in general, but it’s weird to see her as like an adult when Ayato emo boy looks like exactly the fucking same and they’re like,,, supposedly the same age.
There are definitely more I’m missing here. Honestly, Hide was valid. God him with his fucking burlap sack. With a fucking lenny face on it. I can’t with him. That’s so Hide. But there were some bad ones.
5. one hair color change was my limit, enough said
black white black and white black white more white god bitch get some variety
6. Showing me great new characters and then promptly ruining them
And you can tell this one’s about quinx squad, my favorite bastard children. God, I love them. They’re the only good things about Re other than Hide and Haise and like everything else, Ishida took them and went “what if i *guts*” god why. I love these kids with all my heart. Why. Why. Why did you do that to Mutsuki. Why as soon as Haise isn’t in the room they all get themselves tangled up with pedos. Why they gotta break up the squad. Why make all of them lose all the wholesomeness and lessons they learned from Haise. Why do you ruin them all with weird unreciprocated random crushes on each other when they’re like basically siblings. Why fuckinG KILL SHIRAZU HE IS THE APPOINTED CHIEF DUMBASS OF THE SQUAD WHY HIM. WHY. WITH SO LITTLE IMPACT. YOU COULD FUCKING MISS IT SO EASILY. THAT’S NOT RIGHT. AND KANEKI JUST FUCKING ABANDONS THEM BC HE HAS HIS MEMORIES AGAIN N O ? NO ACTUALLY NO.
7. the casual racism and sexism :)
i just :) can you stop having girls constantly bring themselves down for being female :) and making them be oversexualized, less full characters :) always in some way connected to a guy :) more weak and hurt more often :) my fucking god :) also yeah it’s way less prevalent but there were a few racist caricatures thrown in there for taste if you don’t know how to draw lips just don’t
8. Ishida being too much of a pissbaby for a real death scene
Basically: undermining the impact of “deaths” fom the first series while also randomly and badly killing off new characters. Oh that character that died in the original in a really cinematic way that made you cry and think about the meaning of life and how beautifully tragic this story was? Oh lol they’re not Actually dead. (x10) Doing that with Hide (at least in the manga, not the anime, god root A really did it with him but we’re not talking about that) was valid, seeing as I love him your honor and in the manga one of the lessons that his character hinges on was like in chapter 75 to live on instead of giving up even if it hurts and all that... (this is obviously kind of the opposite from root A where his character was like more about sacrificing for kaneki since kaneki had already done so much, i think both are valid but we’re Talking About The Manga) he was done well. That was right (even though i think they should have done More of it) but there were so many characters this kind of thing was done to without the proper adjustment in the handling of the messages given here.
Like with Koma and Irimi, who,,, honestly should have stayed dead because their entire character arc kinda ended there and showed how they were sorry for their actions and this was how they were making it up. And then they just like... come back. And fight more. Really? This wasn’t the only instance either, same deal with Shinohara (though him coming back made me cry) it like, kind of undermines it if you’re going to have Juuzou derive his character development from that. Either Juuzou gets to keep his unhinged and his dad, or he loses his dad for real and he also grows up. God guys choose. What’s the message you’re playing here. (at least they kept Yoshimura dead, his death made me cry and I would have stabbed something if it wasn’t real, probably Ishida.) And even with Kaneki himself, god, if he can’t die from being stabbed straight through the fucking eye, what COULD kill him? It really diminishes the anxiety you feel about “omg is this person gonna die i want them to be ok” if they basically evade the laws of physics and their own previous character arcs 70 times. I’m definitely forgetting more of the same, Ishida can’t write a good death, he needed the anime writers to do it for him.
9. Kaneki. Just. Kaneki.
God they fucking butchered this man. I could go on about his character is weird and confusing in the manga from the beginning, but we’re focusing on mostly all his weird :re character development, the bad handling of Haise and his memories, and all his iterations.
Before I read :re, what I could glean from fanart and the occasional fic that wasn’t tagged properly was really confusing and kind of a mixed bag. I knew Haise was Kaneki but without his memories, now in the ccg trying to be a pacifist and going :DDDDD a lot yknow. And what I came up with in my own mind for that change was a deal of (this makes more sense with the anime canon tbh, the manga honestly doesn’t do any of this well) like Kaneki after The Shit Went Down With Hide (whichever canon you’d like to interpret that as) he basically realized that he really couldn’t be a ghoul, he didn’t want to be, he didn’t want to hurt people and he wanted to be happy and make other people happy instead of what he thought was right before (trying to fight to protect others on his own etc) because that mentality had gotten people he loved hurt, and well subconsciously I guess that kind of factored into his development into Haise and maybe caused his memory loss (along with the, yknow, shanked eye.) So when I started to read it that kind of checked out, this is what he’s trying so hard to be now. But then this whole bullshit of the whole other like, 37 different versions of kaneki complicated things.
Haise was scared that when he got his memories back he would cease to be, well, Haise, and he would just like revert back to what he was before everything. Which I can understand him being scared of and I think was a good point in the plot for him to worry about that, but I was like “oh honey don’t worry that’s not how it works” and was kind of vying for him to eventually get his memories back, come to terms with the fact that those were his memories, he did do those things, he was half a ghoul, and maybe come back to his original fight of wanting to bring the humans and ghouls together, still caring about his human people in the ccg and all. That development was real, and it wouldn’t just go away if he got his memories back, he learned a lot and grew a lot and he has a different outlook on life now. Right?
Fucking wrong I guess. Dude gets his memories back (very ambiguously, it was really hard to tell when that even happened tbh) and like. Turns into a flaming ass looking like ebony darkness dementia raven way. Haise gone. Fucking completely. No trace left. Doesn’t care about his kids anymore. When he’s done with that and goes white again he’s just Kaneki again and there’s really not enough left of things that like, really wouldn’t go away? He loses the flair? The dumbass? The :D? The Extra? WHY? Why would those things go away? Haise shouldn’t have been right that he would disappear when he got back his memories. That killed me. I love Kaneki and all but H a i s e. He is my b o y. H i m. With his e n e r g y s h o r t s. And his m o m. And his c o o k i n g. And his k i d s, I l o v e him. And Ishida doesn’t seem to realize that they’re... literally the same person. Haise isn’t just some stupid bastard occupying Kaneki’s body, he’s a valid part of Kaneki himself and to be honest, peak Kaneki. Should have stayed that way. Would have been great for Hide tbh. Not just having him pretty much revert to his old self, but basically respond equally to both names and balance the world between human and ghoul. I would have loved that. What happened for real? It doesn’t make sense and it breaks my heart.
Some people on the interwebz try to kind of even that whole deal out by trying to say he like, has DID, which although is obviously a valid thing, like, so does not apply to him. God I’m like so not an expert on this but I feel like it’s not that hard to tell. His 87 little Kanekis in his head aren’t separate personas, they’re metaphorical representations of his past morals, experiences, and ideologies that all conflict. Again Haise here is peak conflict because when he gets his memories back, he has all these different conflicting ideas that were all previously separate. They’re all him. Tortured Kaneki constantly yelling at him in Jason’s chamber is basically again, a metaphor for how he’s denying his ghoulhood and the trauma that he’s been dealt. It’s not that this dude still exists just the way he is ready to show up at any moment lmao. Ishida kind of dealt with that badly too because Haise really said
after his memories happened so I can see why people might, but it’s... not right, and it’s Ishida’s fault about that which is Incorrect
Also just blanket statement, black reaper Kaneki? Fuck him and all he stands for. 0% valid. I can excuse literally every other version of him. But wh y. God he leaves the room and Urie starts misusing his power and getting groomed by a pedo, Saiko is just, left behind and sad, Mutsuki gets captured by a perv and mentally destroyed again, Shirazu dies and the bitch is like like “lol it’s your fault” yeah helpful, die
10. P- the- the porn chapter-
Idk about you but that was so fucking unecessary??? Not even going off of how terribly awkward and weird it was to have it there when the opening was “i’m sad about my best friend who’s gonna get executed what do you do when you’re sad about your best friend” “i simply do not think of him or i might actually just curl up and die” “yo lmao same” “wanna fuck” Like ok um I’m biased bc i’m not straight but I like, really hated that. Even just flipping through the pages as fast as I could to get to the end of it like. God. It’s not a fucking hentai. I’m here for the plot. If you’re not gonna release the director’s cut of kaneki fucking voring hide, i don’t think i need to see 20 pages of straight fucking sex. And if you absolutely must have porn, kaneki is a fucking bottom. That man gets pegged do not try to prove otherwise. You started it out that way god I love how they’re like “oh god wait that looks kind of gay, the woman being dominant, better stop that right now” god Ishida not having a single iota of knowlege about his own characters aND THEN SHE GETS PREGNANT? NO. Excuse me. No. I just. I. Why. This isn’t. A fucking porno. This isn’t tentacle porn i swear oh my god kill me
11. Giving the wrong characters attention
Basically, redeeming characters that should have been redeemed and not going into/discussing characters that should have been redeemed/had more backstory. For example, Tsukiyama can go fucking die. I like, do not even care rich boy. I don’t understand how anyone could think he needed to be redeemed he’s just a gay attention whore who really needs to let this kid get on with his merry fucking life. I don’t care. I literally did not need to read three whole books about his dumbass hangup over eating Kaneki. Kaneki doesn’t fucking want you bitch move on. He didn’t need to be redeemed or seen to be in any way sympathetic, no one wanted it. Same with that bitch ass Furuta, he wasn’t really redeemed but he was given w a y too much time to play out his sob story. God man Rize doesn’t fucking want you. These gross ass simps. I swear.
On the other hand, I kind of liked Eto even though she’s a pile of shit, and I got mad when they didn’t really go into much about her. And you know who could have gotten much more screen time/development? TOUKA. God, I love her and she was just sitting around in the background being straight. Let her have some spicy development. Also obviously, Hide. He was... so underappreciated and underexplained? What happened with him? He didn’t just pick himself off the ground in the sewers and go ‘well i’d better get back to the ccg now’ we have a whole two years which are completely unexplained, most of which he was off mysteriously being involved in things but completely missing the eye of Haise and other major players. Where tf was he? How did he get around? What was he even doing??? I wanna know about that! Not all the characters I hate’s tragic backstories that make me feel 0% more sympathetic towards them :)
12. ARE WE ALL JUST GONNA COLLECTIVELY IGNORE THE WHOLE VORE THING???
Ok like i know i say “the entire reason I read :re was __” but like to be honest this was the turning point, I saw pictures of hide’s vore face and went like
So I was like “god fucking damn it ok, Ishida would you care to explain this to me” *cracks open re*
And then they DIDN’T.
Like. It’s actually laughable how much that entire situation was just glossed over. They gave that maybe like two pages. Like what. I. This manga has more sex scene than no homoing that. They just don’t even bother to. I feel like Ishida had that as a plot point but realized halfway in how it looked (i.e., really fucking gay) and decided that was something that he was just gonna, not deal with. Just act like that’s a completely normal heterosexual bro thing to do. Like of course anywhere would be pretty gay but Kaneki chose his face. His face. Like his face and his wholeass neck and his shoulders and nowhere else. (and assumedly like, his tongue, seeing as how the dude can’t talk... bruh) Dude really said extreme hickey. French kiss to the max. Ishida clearly did realize that generally, you can only get a bitten off face by,,, having your face bitten off, which is just inherently really fucking gay. Like, I’m just at a loss as to how it even makes sense. You wouldn’t think that the skin off his face, and specifically around his mouth, would really be the most nutritious thing to consume? I can get like the shoulders but generally you’d think something like his arm or leg would be 1.less inconvenient, and 2.much more logical and nutritious? But NO, Kaneki was like “you know what i’m gonna do? eat your Face” and hide’s like “lmao sounds cool”
(not to mention, wasn’t there another guy with a vore face somewhere? like that old guy in the ccg with the bigass turtleneck, i wanna know about him) But like... my bro Ishida went “yeah this happened but i’m going to cover it up with speech bubbles and the ends of panels guys they clearly had their socks on” Dude didn’t even TRY to explain otherwise. Like hey man, that’s pretty damn gay, you are kind of at liberty to either tell me why otherwise, or accept those implications and acknowledge them?? It’s really hilarious when you ignore it cause it’s like
kind of
pretty damn
WEAK of you to leave it at that fucking pissbaby
hmmmmmmmmm however could this happen i guess we’ll never know
13. What the fuck was even the plot omg
God I’ve been writing this post for like five hours so like, I’ll keep it short but like it made sense in the original, not to be like an anime fan but the anime made fucking sense (not re i mean like the original) this lore is so fucking stupid god, the horrors of the entire fucking dragon arc bleach my eyes, unresolved plotlines who???? (the whole ‘oh yeah also ur dying of old age’ thing etc, is kaneki like??? still doing that?? or was that randomly resolved with the whole spewing ovary bullshit i’m going to fucking kill myself) and to top it off, good job Ishida at a real fucking cheap ending.
You gave them. Fake human. Really? They just come up with artificial human at the end. Kind of undermines the entire fucking story my guy. Ah yes throw out our whole plot. That was the whole tragedy. You gotta eat human. The ghouls have to eat human and that’s tragic bc they have to kill people or whatever. Or i guess they fucking don’t well fucking ok. God you could have just had them negotiate a kind of peace where the ghouls can get dead humans and such, there are plenty of them and no one has to kill anyone then, there could be a rule system for it, it would be messy but eventually everyone would be ok with it, and I think that would work a lot better than “quick fix i made some hamburger helper human you can eat it fine” guys wtf. It’s like Ishida started plotting out the ending for re approximately 2 hours before his deadline. Anyway yes I hate re and I love yelling about it thank you for coming to my ted talk.
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
second chances | chapter four
series page
warnings: mentions of death/loss
The Drunk Dancing
“So, what’s your story?”
“What do you mean?” You asked.
“Everyone has a story… What’s yours?” Yugyeom shrugged casually.
As you walked together on the street, you watched couples passing by. You wondered if Chaeyoung and Bambam were acting like that as well, if they were then all this would’ve been worth it. You then wondered where you were headed, Yugyeom still hadn’t told you exactly where you were going.
“You first. It’s probably more interesting than mine.” You said walking by his side, you were unsure if you were actually willing to share with him.
“Okay…” Yugyeom said, shoving his hands in his pockets “Let's see, I’m twenty-five, a decent dancer but a terribly unpunctual person. I have a dog named Dalkyum, and I’m probably my family’s greatest disappointment.”
“Woah, hold on” You stopped him. “What do you mean you’re a disappointment? You were just signed to the best dance company in the city!”
“Parents wanted me to do something practical with my college degree, become a doctor or a lawyer, something stuffy like that. When they came to my graduation and realized I majored in Dance… well let’s just say that they weren’t too thrilled. I haven’t spoken to them since then.”
Blinking, you took in his explanation, “Well, yeah. But you also deceived them.” You pointed out. “Maybe you should’ve been honest with them from the beginning and set their expectations accordingly.”
Yugyeom registered your words, a bit taken aback. No one had ever pointed that out to him. “They wouldn’t have understood.”
“How do you know? You never gave them a chance.” You pressed. “I think you should invite them to your performance.”
“Maybe.” Yugyeom said shortly. “Anyway, that’s me in a few words. What about you?”
Letting out a shaky breath, you finally answered his question, “Well, I’m a twenty-five year old widow, working as a pathetic assistant for the bitchiest woman in the city.”
Yugyeom stopped in his tracks. “Wait, widow? As in–”
“I got married right out of college.” You confirmed.
“Do you mind me asking what happened?” Yugyeom said slowly appearing in front of you, his eyebrows knit.
“Car accident.” You said. “He died on the way to the hospital.”
Yugyeom watched as you recounted the story, instinctively placing a hand on your arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
Moving your arm, you shrugged “That’s life I guess. The anniversary of his death was last Friday, it’s been three years.”
You watched as the pieces of the puzzle finally connected in Yugyeom’s mind. That's why you were so offended when he’d leaned in to kiss you, why you were so reluctant to come out, and why you often seemed lost in your own world.
He gave you a soft smile before changing the subject, “So who’s the bitchiest woman in the city?”
+++
“You need to get out right now!” You whispered nervously.
“Relax baby,” Jaebeom said with ease. “No one is coming.”
“They do random inspections all the time!” You insisted. “Oh crap, if they do a fire drill we’re screwed. I’m going to lose my scholarship, and over what? A boy!”
“What do you think is worse, the fact that you brought your boyfriend to your women only dorm or the fact that said boyfriend is a senior from SNU, your rival school?” Jaebeom pondered aloud.
“You need to leave through the window.” You continued spiraling, “I can hear footsteps.”
Sitting up at the mention of the window, Jaebeom frowned, “You’re not serious right? I could fall!”
A knock on the door had both your eyes widened.
“Go!” You pushed him off your bed and towards the window.
“Okay, you look like you need another drink.” Yugyeom said.
He signaled the bartender to make you another drink as you were shaken out of your recollection. “I can’t drink anymore, I’ll have a bad hangover tomorrow.”
“What! You barely had anything. We need to build your tolerance up.” Yugyeom insisted. He studied your face for a moment before saying, “You don’t really get out much do you?”
“I guess you could say that…” you agreed.
“Why?”
“I don’t know, I guess I’m not really ever in the mood these days.” Correction, you hadn’t been in the mood to go out for the past three years. Feeling a sadness settling in, you switched the topic, “So what do you think Bambam and Chaeyoung are doing?”
“Probably screwing in the bathroom of the club,” Yugyeom said nonchalantly.
You scrunched your nose in disgust and rolled your eyes, “Is that really all you think about?”
“Yeah pretty much.” Yugyeom said, sipping his drink. “It’s not just me though, it’s all guys. I’d say it easily occupies 90% of our brain capacity.”
“Well that’s reassuring.” You said. You sipped your drink, taking in the strong alcohol flavor and coughing. “Jesus, this is literally all vodka.”
“Cheers, drink up.” Yugyeom held his glass, clinking it against yours and then downing the glass. As you both drank, you were startled by Yugyeom’s loud shouting.
“Hey! It’s my song!” He cheered.
You paused to listen to what he was talking about, recognizing the song as Chris Brown’s ‘Take You Down’.
“Of course this is your song.” You muttered.
“We have to dance, come on!” Yugyeom grabbed your hand faster than you could refuse.
It was odd really, the room was quiet and barely had any people in it. You and Yugyeom stood in the center of the bar, creating a makeshift dance floor. A few people in the bar looked on as Yugyeom danced alone to the song.
“Everyone’s watching us.” You told him nervously.
“Okay, if you can notice that, you’re not drunk enough,” Yugyeom paused from his awkward swaying. “We’re doing shots and then dancing.”
From the floor he signaled for six shots and brought you to the bar. The bartender prepared them and left them for you two drink. Wincing, you looked at the shots and then Yugyeom. Noticing your hesitation, he grabbed your hand and made you hold the shot. He then motioned for you to drink and swallowed the shot himself. The two of you repeated the action with the second shot, and then the third.
Banging his hands on the bar, Yugyeom hollered loudly. “Whoo! Dancing time!”
Feeling woozy yourself, you didn’t fight him when he led you to the center of the bar. As the song blared through the crappy bar speakers, you laughed as Yugyeom started swaying and grinding in a vaguely sexual manner. Feeling the beat, you swayed side to side, unsure of what to do.
Yugyeom danced on, but you couldn’t help but giggle like a schoolgirl. At this point his dance moves left nothing to your imagination, as he air humped the floor, you held your stomach as it hurt too much from your reaction. The feeling felt so foreign, you couldn’t recall the last time anyone beside Jaebeom had made you laugh so hard.
As he returned to stand, Yugyeom watched you laughing at him, a large grin appearing on his own face as well.
+++
You walked slowly into your office, hoping not to make any noise. Tip-toeing to your desk, you’d almost made it before you heard a voice yelling.
“Y/N, get in here right now!”
Groaning, you quit your attempt to be quiet and opened the door to Susie’s office.
“Hi Susie.” You said, offering a smile.
“Don’t you ‘hi Susie’ me young lady. You’re late.” She said, not looking up from her papers. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fire you right now.”
“Because I’ve worked for you for about a year and a half and this is the first time I’ve been late.” You reminded her.
Blinking, Susie glanced at you before setting her pile down. She looked up to the ceiling, most likely trying to verify if your statement was true. Finally realizing that it was, she spoke. “Huh, I guess that’s right. You better not make this a regular occurrence.”
“Understood.” You nodded. “I should get back to my desk.”
As you walked back, you heard the phone on your desk ring. Speed walking to catch it, you answered, “Icon magazine, Susie Park’s assistant, how can I help you?”
“My tolerance for alcohol has severely diminished.” The voice spoke. “I’m disappointed in myself.”
Your eyes widened at the voice, “Yugyeom?” You whispered, hoping Susie wouldn’t realize that this was now a personal call.
“I’m thinking that the next time we go out, we just go all out and get blackout drunk.” He continued.
“How did you get this number?” You asked, “Don’t you have a job or something you should be at now?”
“Hey, I don’t go into the studio until 11 am.” He defended. “And don’t call me a creep, but I looked it up.”
“You’re such a creep.” You whispered. “You could’ve texted!”
“Well, actually I couldn’t because I don’t have your number.”
“Oh.” You said. “I have to go but I’ll give it to you the next time I see you.”
“Wait, Y/N don’t hang-”
You placed the phone back on the receiver, shaking your head and laughing to yourself.
“What’s got you giggling like that?” Chaeyoung asked as she approached your desk, careful to avoid Susie’s line of vision.
“Nothing.” You said quickly.
“Well clearly it wasn’t nothing. I can’t remember the last time I saw you blush like that.” Chaeyoung pressed. “Was it a guy?”
“No! And I’m not blushing!” You denied fervently. “Anyway, how was your night with Bambam?”
Now it was Chaeyoung’s turn to blush, she glanced down “It was really nice, we’re going to see each other again on Friday.”
Your eyes widened as your mouth dropped. “Really? That’s great! I’m so happy for you Chae.”
“Thanks Y/N, honestly I can’t believe it myself.” She beamed.
“Less talking, more working!” Susie called from her office.
“Talk later?” You offered.
Nodding her head vigorously, Chaeyoung retreated to her work space.
As she left, you found yourself thinking about Yugyeom, you wondered what he was doing now. Snapping out of your ridiculous thought, you returned to your computer, desperate to distract yourself from him.
chapter three | chapter five
#kim yugyeom#got7#yugyeom#got7 yugyeom#yugyeom got7#yugyeom fic#got7 fic#yugyeom drabble#yugyeom fluff#got7 drabbles#got7 masterlist#got7 fluff#got7 scenario#got7 reaction#got7 imagines#mnw works
30 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
imallive
enjoy the silence
flashwise
Hanyang then Edo
danesktraveler
Danesk Traveler
softnsexyq
♡ hopeless romantic ♡
