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hotwings0203 · 3 years

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I JUST SAW FIGHT CLUB AND HOOOLLYYY-

Bro could you IMAGINE FightClub!Bakugo?

Tw:noncon, language, harassment

Okay okay get this: you’re down in the basement listening to the usual men holler and punch each other around while you do your job as their cute little “accountant”. While many of them have good jobs and a real life, the actual members don’t have time or the intellect to juggle the numbers and money around as fast as you can. You’ve been coming here for a while now, and you’re used to the jeers and wolf-whistles coming your way since you’re basically one of the few or only women who dare to come down here.

But there’s one fighter who just can’t seem to take no for an answer.

Bakugo fucking Katsuki.

The man is ruthless, he’s relentless, he’s a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. You swear he’s had to have taken a shitload of steroids in his youth, otherwise how else could he have built up that much muscle? There’s no way an average gym-goer has that kinda build.

He’s always the first and the last one out in the rink, swaying back and forth with his fists up, a twisted grin on his face that was so reminiscent of a wolf before it lunges for its prey.

It usually took more than two men to pull him off the unconscious bodies that he had just beaten to a pulp, effectively breaking one of Fight Clubs Rules: get up when someone is down.

But he’s too good to let go, no one has the balls to tell him to take his money somewhere else since they’re all scared shitless of him.

Which leads him to believing that he’s practically a god down here, that he can conquer anything: including you.

No one really calls it harassment because no one really cares. What’s so wrong in a guy having a little crush? What, you came down here seeing all this testosterone but you can’t deal with it yourself? Don’t be a prudish bitch.

“Bakugo, I’m at work right now, I don’t want to.”

“C’mon toots, this ain’t even real work, you’re just fumblin’ my hard earned cash.” He grins slyly and crosses his bulging muscular arms, leaning against the doorway of the little office you’re given to work your magic.

You turn in your rickety seat and glare at him, ignoring the way he licks his lips and lets his eyes roam all over your body. “If I’m so shit at my work then go somewhere else and stop bothering me.”

He chuckles in his baritone voice and shakes his head at you. “Naw, can’t do that sweets. If I did then I’d never be able to see your pretty face again now, could I?” Bakugo leers at you and you turn your face in disgust.

“I don’t wanna go out for lunch, or ever with you. Now get out before I have to call someone in here.”

“Oh, is that so?” He uncrosses his arms and steps through the threshold, his body growing larger and more menacing as he slowly draws closer to you. Luckily a fight had broken out near the office months ago so there was no more door from the aftereffects, but that didn’t mean you felt safe even with open space.

“G-get out. I’m serious, Bakugo-“

“-Call me Katsuki, angel. And you don’t really mean that, do you? Look at you, you can barely look me in the eye when you say such mean things.” His voice drops an octave as he comes to stand in front of your seated form, towering above your wide eyes, clenched fists and trembling figure.

He leans down and you flinch and gasp as his breath ghosts over your face. He places both arms on either side of your chair so you have nowhere to look but him.

“You’re such a nice breath of fresh hair down here, through all the blood and violence. You’re like a flower...” he tucks a stray hair behind your ear and breaths out a laugh when you turn your head and squeeze your eyes shut.

“A flower, so fragile...a flower that smells so fucking good...” you feel like you can’t properly breathe as he leans in next to your ear and inhales deeply.

“A flower waiting to be deflowered herself.”

“What’s going on here?” A lanky body in the doorway appears.

Bakugo pulls back and turns his head ever so slightly towards the dude, growling under his breath at the interruption.

“We’re in the middle of something here, so you can just get the fuck ou-“

“-Well, it doesn’t really look like she’s into whatever you’re doing,” the man scoffs and takes in your pale face and shaking hands.

Bakugo stands to his fullest height, almost neck and neck with the man at the door.

“Yeah? I didn’t hear a complaint from her.” He cocks his head and stretches, allowing his muscles to ripple with each movement, something that didn’t go unseen by your much skinnier savior.

But he doesn’t back down. He only swallows and rubs the back of his neck.

“Well, we’re all being called out to put our bets in for the next match anyways, so you better come out before we get our asses kicked.”

The blond grumbles about weak men and no balls, then casts a dark look at your frozen figure before shouldering past the man at the door, almost knocking him down.

As soon as he’s out of your line of vision, you exhale and relax into your seat.

“You okay?” The fallen soldier scrambles back up and cautiously approaches you, looking over your body in a way that didn’t remind you of Bakugo undressing you with his eyes...rather, it was a protective, and worried once-over.

“Yeah, he’s just...a lot to handle sometimes. Doesn’t know when to quit.” You laugh shakily and run a hand through your hair.

“No wonder the dude’s a menace. He’s used to getting what he wants, I guess.” The man acknowledges this grimly, and for the first time you’re relieved that finally someone hasn’t turned a blind eye to your harassment.

“Are they really calling us down for bets?”

“No, I just said that to get him off your ass. Didn’t seem like you liked whatever he was doing.”

You give him a wobbly smile and he returns it.

“Sooo we should probably run before he comes back up here, right?”

“Oh most definitely,” you actually giggle before leaping out of your seat and joining the man to bound up the steps two at a time to freedom.

You both end up bonding pretty well over the weeks, even going out for coffee and lunch dates here and there. You’ve come to really like him, his shyer demeanor more than a majority of the ragtag men down in the basements, his chivalry refreshing to you amongst the blood and foul language thrown around the ring.

You feel like a woman with him, not some piece of ass like you were used to.

Bakugo noticed all this, of course. You started avidly avoiding him, ducking your head down and hiding behind your new ally before he could open his coarse mouth and stalk towards you. He couldn’t find you in your dingy office anymore either, because your savior was up in a cafe doing the calculations with you, laughing away about the latest matches.

That has to change. Effective immediately.

“Yo, newbie. How you been? Haven’t seen you fightin’ here for a while,” Bakugo claps his meaty hand on the scrawny guy’s back, nearing sending him toppling over.

“Yeah, y’know, just haven’t been feeling it lately.” He rubs the stinging feeling away from his sore shoulders and side eyes the blond suspiciously. He had seen firsthand just how bad-news of a guy he was, and he didn’t wanna get caught up in all that.

But Katsuki wasn’t just all brawn. He had some brains, too.

“Look, I know I prolly gave off a weird first impression with Y/N back then. But it’s all in good health, ‘was just messin’ around like I always do.”

“Yeah, sure...”

“How ‘bout we get some coffee or somethin’? You seem like a solid dude, plus we got shit in common to talk about.”

Like fucking around with my bitch.

“Uh, you sure? I kinda’ wanted to see the last fight,” he trails off unsuredly, scratching his jaw as Katsuki steers him away from the growing crowd.

“There’ll always be fights, man. I wanna show you that I’m a nice guy.”

Bakugo Katsuki was not a nice guy.

And everyone knew that too, which is why when some shifted to give the duo a curious glance he met them with a death glare. Any gazes locked on Katsuki’s hand wrapped around the lanky guy’s shoulders were immediately casted down.

You didn’t see your savior for a while.

It had been two weeks since he mysteriously disappeared from his usual place in the outskirts of the crowd, because unbeknownst to you, a certain fighter was keeping him away from you and convincing him to have a friendly brawl over lunch.

You only found out about it on a Friday night, when a crowd much bigger than before was gathered in the dim basement, voices hushed and whispering.

“What’s going on? Why’s everyone so quiet?” You whisper to one of the usuals.

“‘Heard Bakugo’s fighting some dude that was handpicked by himself. He somehow managed to convince the poor bastard to have some kinda’ match with him.”

You felt your heart sinking.

“Who did he pick?”

“‘Dunno, some skinny guy, a newbie I think. Hasn’t been around for too long so I guess he doesn’t know how big of a monster he’s gonna be beaten by.” The groupie shrugged, and you felt the blood drain from your face.

Without saying another word, you spun around and started running around all over the place looking for either of the two.

You end up stumbling into the men’s bathroom, desperate beyond salvation to stop this bloodbath.

He’s there, he’s at the urinal and he yelps when he hears you barge in. You avert your eyes and let his adjust himself as he sputters indignantly.

“Y/N? What’re you doing in here? This is a men’s-“

“Don’t fight him.”

“What?”

“Don’t fight Bakugo, please, he’s gonna kill you, I know he is-“

“-Calm down, what’re you so worked up about? C’mon, I would’ve thought you’d had a little bit more faith in me to be able to stand my ground.” He teases you but you don’t find it funny, on the contrary you’re terrified out of your mind for his life.

“Did he put you up to this? How could you fight him, you’ve seen what he does to the other guys in the ring!”

“Well yeah, but he knows not to go that hard on me. Actually, he’s not that bad of a guy, we’ve gotten some drinks for the past two weeks and I was wrong about him.”

You gape at him. “Wrong? You saw how he cornered me that one day!”

He shrugs, not put off by the distant memory. “The guy just came back from a fight, he still had testosterone going through him. You can’t blame him for wanting to let a bit of it out, right? You should really give him a chance y’know, he talks about you all the t-“

But you can’t hear anymore, this is madness, there’s barely 10 minutes left until they’re going to call the two down for their death match. You need to find the source of this problem firsthand.

And somehow, a little voice inside your head tells you exactly where you know he is.

You round the corner to your office and there he is in all his glory, seated like a king on your chair, leaned back with his knees spread, carelessly looking through your bank statements and bet papers.

He barely looks at you as he says, “Oh there you are, I was starting to think you’d miss the show.”

You sink to your knees.

He looks up at that.

With a tight chest and burning eyes, your dry throat barely permits you to choke out, “Bak-Katsuki, please, please don’t do this. Please don’t fight him.”

He cracks his neck and leans forward, regarding you with dark vermilion eyes. He looks your position over appreciatively before speaking.

“Why not? He’s so good and great isn’t he? I’m just trying to show you how right you were, after all. I’m sure he’s got a fair chance of beating me.”

You shake your head vigorously, knowing what he’s playing at.

“No, no, you’re better, please. I was wrong about him, I shouldn’t have been friends with him, please don’t fight him Katsuki I’ll do anything-“

“-Oh you’ll do anything I say regardless of if I beat him to a bloody pulp or not. You wanna know why?”

You can barely contain a whimper as he stands and walks over right in front of you, his bulging crotch mere inches away from your face.

He suddenly grabs your hair and you cry out before he yanks your head up to meet his cold eyes.

“Because no one in here is gonna say shit to me. I run things here, toots. And if you want your little boy toy to live through today, you’re gonna watch every blow I give to him, and you’re gonna kiss the fucking knuckles I beat his face with. Got that?”

You sob as he grinds his clothed erection against your tear-streaked face, sniffling when he moans loudly and bucks into your open mouth.

A loud knock on the bare hinges stops Bakugo from pulling the front of his shorts down.

You both turn your heads and see a red-faced side-liner looking down and mumbling something about the match starting.

“‘Be there in a minute. Tell the guys to give my girl here a special front-row seat to this match, she’s gonna wanna see her man win, after all.”

The runner scampers off, leaving you both alone.

He bares his teeth down at you and you cower under his painful hold, the roots of your hair ripping from their strands.

He eventually tosses your head to the side after a few seconds of staring you down, and the second he does you clutch your sore cranium.

“I better see you down there in a minute sweet thing. You gotta get used to it anyways, since you’re gonna be getting accustomed to my rituals before and after matches.”

#tw:noncon #bakugo x you #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo oneshot #bakugo katsuki #mha #bnha #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugo smut #katsuki smut #katsuki x y/n #katsuki scenario #mha yandere #bnha yandere

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passivenovember · 3 years

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mama said to smile while I still have teeth.

(or) Post Starcourt, a very different Billy Hargrove gets his wisdom teeth removed.

In a moment of weakness and textbook junior year assholery, Steve gets his stomach ripped out and fed to him for suggesting that Billy could take the bus.

And it’s not without reason.

Hopper and Joyce have work. And Robin would ask too many questions--why the shaved head, why the ratty black hoodie and sweatpants, why the perpetual vow of silence--and the only one of the kids that has their permit is Dustin.

But Max behaves as if none of that matters. Looks at Steve as if he set the house on fire himself.

“Or you could take him.” She sneers. Like that’s somehow a good idea. “You have a car.”

“Billy wouldn’t get in a car with me even if you paid him.”

Steve doesn’t say he’d rather face a barrel of Demodogs one handed than be left alone with Billy. Would rather lick black slime off his own dick than feel those silent, cool blue eyes pouring like ice water down the ridges of his skin.

Steve wants to say it. Doesn’t. When Max starts crying. “His legs don’t work as good anymore.”

“Billy gave me a concussion.”

“He’s got gas money.” She says, voice winding tight with desperation.

And Steve despises the painful, weeping grip of her fingers when they close around his forearm. Hates that she cares so much for someone who could never care for her.

“I know it’s not much.” Max swallows thickly. “I know he used to be a piece of shit, but he’s--”

“Different.” Steve says heavily, scrubbing at his forehead. “I know.”

Billy slides into the passenger seat with a thermos in one hand and a cranberry muffin in the other and Steve isn’t used to it, the way his body seems to have deflated. Limbs cut from marianette strings, hanging limp as if gravity hasn’t quite learned what to do with them.

Billy places the muffin and the thermos on the dashboard between them, and.

Steve expects something.

A thank you, which could come later. A hello, which should come now.

Billy nods at the dashboard.

Steve jots into action. “Oh. These aren’t for you?”

Billy grunts, reaching to pass the goodies over as if Steve were incapable of doing it himself. The thermos is warm in Steve’s hand. Sturdy.

“Coffee?” He asks, jerking with surprise when Billy mutters; “Hazelnut.” In a voice as soft as feather down.

Steve waits for Billy to say something else, but.

Billy doesn’t. He just turns and peers out the passenger side window, into the gentle swell of rain that’s started to fall.

“Thanks. Thank you.” Steve says. He starts the car. Lets it warm, and.

Tries not to feel like this is the first time their bodies have had to reacquaint themselves with one another.

Tries not to marvel at how beautiful silvery thin lines can be. Running from the shell of an ear and disappearing, quick, into the hood nestled around broad shoulders.

Steve rubs his hands together, tearing his eyes away. “First time at the dentist?”

And Billy doesn’t say anything.

Never says anything, anymore, but. That doesn’t stop the conversation from feeling communal. Shared.

“I got my wisdom teeth out when I was fourteen.” Steve peers through the windshield. It’s raining harder now. “Don’t remember much about the whole thing. Mom says I tried to stop the aquarium fish from drowning. And that I had to be double belted on the way home--”

“Will it hurt?” Billy turns to look at him, and. His eyes are welling up. Cheeks and nose red, as if stung by October winds.

Billy whispers, “I wanted Max to come but she had school.”

His hand is covered by the sleeve of his hoodie, fabric scrubbing rough at the stubble along his jaw. “Did they hurt you?” Billy asks, and.

Steve doesn’t like the way he says it.

Like there really is something to be afraid of, at the core of it all. Like no one has ever considered the possibility.

“It’s not so bad.” Steve’s heart gives a painful, gripping thud. “You get a free ice pack out of the deal and decent high from the silly gas, if you’re lucky.”

Billy nods. “We’re gonna be late.”

Which. “Yeah, sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“We’ll get you there lickety-split.” Steve pulls out of the driveway, fingers gripping the wheel when Billy places the still-warm muffin in his lap.

He sticks around for the procedure just to stop Billy from looking like he’s being dropped at his first day of kindergarten. The waiting room is bright. Warm and colorful, plush couches stocked full of overstuffed pillows. All within throwing distance of machine labeled free coffee :)

Not a bad dig, all things considered, but.

Billy says Steve doesn’t have to wait around. Doesn’t even have to come back at all. The nurse calls his name and Billy stands, shoulders lined with tension, before turning to whisper, “I’ll take the bus back to Neil’s.”

And Steve knows. Gets it.

The universe running a test. An experiment that will prove whether Steve’s really got a heart under all that chest hair.

Steve lifts his Highlights magazine. “I’m good.”

“Really?”

“Dude, It’s pouring outside,” Steve says, shaking his hair out for good measure. “I’ll just wait. In case you’re too high to function.”

Billy looks like he wants to say something else, so. Steve gives his full attention. Plans on the preverbal thank you that’ll probably never come, but. The nurse calls that name again.

Billy Hargrove.

And Billy turns to go, hands tangled in the sleeves of his hoodie.

His cheeks are swollen, like.

A chipmunk.

Stuffed full of little cotton pads that could be acorns. That are acorns, Billy insists, when the nurse brings Steve back to the operation room. He’s parked on the dentist bench. Curled into a ball with a thumb in his mouth when Steve rounds the corner.

“Steve,” Billy says thickly. “They took my teeth out but I have acorns.” He reaches across the space between them, fingers grasping Steve’s wrist tightly.

Too tight, but.

Steve can’t bring himself to care when the nurse says, “Billy, take your thumb out of you mouth.”

And Billy says. “I need to suck on something cold.” He pulls Steve right up to the edge of the bench, sitting with a serious glint in his eye. “Our acorns will be good for winter, right?”

He sways, nearly falling off the leather table, so.

Steve grasps his shoulder. Puts him back in place. “Probably? I don’t think acorns go bad.”

“We gotta make sure, ‘cause I don’t want you to starve.” Billy slurs, dropping to dead weigh when the nurse gets an arm underneath him and asks Steve to get the kid on his feet.

Billy lands somewhere against Steve’s ribs, swaying dramatically as bright red drool slides over his chin.

The nurse swears under her breath, going at it with a towel.

Billy swats her hand away. He staggers as Steve thanks the nurse and leads them into the waiting room.

“You’re so pretty, Stever.” Billy reaches out again, fingertips poking Steve’s eyelid. “Can’t starve for the winter. Gotta get pretty boys their acorns--”

“Stop poking me--”

“Acorn soup.” Billy sings. “Acorn pie and casserole and lollipops covered in sugar.”

Steve manages to get the doors open with zero help from Billy, chuckling as warm, soft palms circle around his shoulder blades.

They’re hugging.

In the rain.

At the dentist’s office.

Steve hugs back, squawking when Billy’s nose brushes against his heartbeat. “C’mon, dude, we gotta--”

“Will you carry me, Stever?”

“No.” Steve says, manhandling Billy from his chest to his ribcage, determined to make it across the lot in one piece. “You’re solid muscle, there’s no way I could carry you.”

Billy makes a noise, pretty pink lips forming a pout when Steve looks over at him.

“I got all the acorns ready for winter and you can’t carry me to the car?” Billy grumbles, leaning against the side of the Beamer while Steve gets his key into the lock.

Steve untangles himself from the arms that fold around his waist. “Billy--”

“You smell like grass.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No, like sweet grass.” Billy cackles, doubling over at his own joke, and. Pulling Steve down with him. “Sweet ass, right?”

“You’re insane.” Steve whispers, somehow out of breath from. The hands on his neck. He let’s Billy pet through his hair and then Steve yanks on the door handle, opening it, like, “Alright. Get in.”

Billy has more blood on his face. “Wanna sit with you.”

“We will.”

“Can I lay on your chest?”

Steve’s face hurts from smiling. “You won’t fit.”

“I could!” Billy whimpers, jerking away from Steve as he tries to get the blood off his chin. “I could be like a kitty cat--”

“Would you just--” Steve gets his hands on him, wiping at Billy’s mouth with his thumb. “Hold still, alright?”

“Alright.” Billy kisses Steve’s finger. Chaste and quick, gone before either really know what’s happening. Those blue eyes pull Steve in, drink him down. “How come you’re so pretty?” Billy asks.

And. “Dunno,” Steve says, sounding just as out of breath as he feels. Like they’ve been running laps, and.

Steve thinks maybe they have.

All around Hawkins. Through the years. Past each other.

Billy holds still under the weight of ten fingers before frowning. Sticking his little swollen lip out. “Can we go home now?”

Steve backs away, gripping the edge of the door. “Sure.”

“Not to Neil’s,” Billy mutters to himself, leaning into the leather seat when Steve gets his limbs folded into the car. He cranes his head, eyes huge and watery. “Can I hang out with you?”

Steve moves to close the door. “Sure.”

Billy stops him. “Are you mad at me?”

“No, Billy.”

“Then why are you trying to close the door?” Billy demands, peering through narrowed eyes.

Steve chuckles at that, squeezing the fingers that curl into the palm of his hand. “We gotta close the door so we can drive the car back to my house.”

Billy yanks his hand away. “Your house.” He says, as if tasting the words on his tongue.

Steve nods. “Do you want to go to my house?”

“Do you have macaroni and cheese?”

“Yeah, I can.” Steve wills himself to stop smiling. “I can make some after you take a nap.”

Billy stops the door from closing again. “I’ll be cold if I try to sleep.”

And he says it like.

No one’s ever believed him. Billy speaks with an anchor in his voice, the weight of it pulling Steve in. Forward, until he understands.

Steve grips the edge of the door.

Nods. Let’s Billy know that there are ways around it.

Billy’s crying, and. Steve doesn’t want to see him cry anymore. Every again. They’ve been through too much. He takes Billy’s hand and squeezes tight, smiling softly when cool blue eyes peer up at him.

“Then we can eat macaroni and watch T.V.--”

“We can?”

“Yeah,” Steve says softly. “And when you’re ready to go home I’ll take you. Keep you safe.”

He moves to close the door, chucking when a firm, sure hand holds it in place.

Billy stares at him. “What if I never wanna go home again?”

Steve thinks about it, tapping his knuckles on the hood of the car. He shrugs. “Guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Billy says.

This time, when the door is closed, Steve runs to the other side. Not wanting to miss a single moment.

#harrigrove #they’re getting fluff and then a shit load of angst #and then more fluff #love my babies #wisdom teeth

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g4rous · 3 years

Text

Sunlit memories (Garou x Reader)

tags: slight mentions of blood, no warnings really

words: 1.5 k

notes: this one is slightly longer than the two before bc I had to put in a lot of stuff here lol but anyways aa here it is finally! Tried making it a bit lighthearted <3

series masterlist

previous chapter

Chapter three

After lazily opening your eyes, pain spread through your head. The blackness from your vision cleared away, leaving a fog in your mind and the painful sensation was the first thing you could register before you felt the cold brick wall you were leaning on.

What just happened? Trying to recall how you got in that position, your eyes trailed to the opposite wall, now realizing you didn’t even remember being in this alley in the first place.

“Yo, you’re awake.”

Looking over at a few large wooden crates, your focus now shifted to the silver-haired teen sitting on top of them. You didn’t even make out a response upon witnessing the injuries behind his torn, black shirt. The puzzle was coming together.

Last sight you remember before going unconscious were the heroes from that mini-market fighting the same person right in front of you now. For a moment you almost thought you were being delirious, yet those wounds only proved your suspicions. Was he the self-proclaimed “Hero Hunter” everyone has been wild about recently?

“So…” he looked at you with an awkward expression, “ you gonna go now or?”

Slightly flinching as you snapped back to reality, now you were left completely perplexed on what to do. On one hand the realization made you feel quite uneasy, but on the other you were safe for some reason, despite getting caught up in the ruckus from before.

“What happened to those guys earlier..?”

“Oh, their bodies are probably still lying face down right around the corner,” he grinned, “if no one found them already, that is.”

However after picking up your distraught expression that boastful tone faded in an instant.

“Hey, hey they’re not dead, jeez quit freaking out.”

You only frowned after giving him a small glare. Your head still ached, although not as strong from a few minutes ago. How long have you been out? Judging by the still-sunset sky it shouldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes, much to your relief. The street was still deserted and silent as well.

“Well, thanks for saving my skin back there I guess…” you looked over at his injuries, staggering for a moment after standing up.

“However, you should definitely get those injuries checked out. I think I saw a hospital or something around here somewhere.”

A few seconds passed as he looked at you with a blank stare.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Dude you’re literally bleeding all over.”

“I said I’m fine!-“, he exclaimed only to flinch in pain. “-why are you so worried anyways? Just go home.”

“Talk about stubborn,” you thought to yourself.

Though, on second thought you do see a good reason why he shouldn’t. It’s almost as if you had forgotten that you witnessed him straight up thrash some A-classes. That and all the other questions that piled up still haven’t left your mind, but be as it may now wasn’t the time for overthinking. People must be pursuing him everywhere now, huh?

You leaned against the wall, still contemplating the situation. Water droplets from the roof were the only thing breaking the silence as you both stood there quiet. That is, until you got an idea.

“I don’t plan on talking you into it anymore…” you spoke with a tinge of nervousness, “but I do have some bandages at home. It’ll just be ten minutes until we get there, I give you them and you can leave. I don’t think sitting on those crates until you bleed out is really practical.”

The teen almost reflexively wanted to protest but not a single sentence came out. He really couldn’t think of anything that made your idea sound regrettable, and as much as he hated to admit it he wasn’t in the best shape. You on the other hand felt almost obligated to help him out. Putting aside that shocking realization from earlier, he did watch over you after you got KO’d.

After finally jumping off the crates, he shrugged and put both hands in his pockets.

“Eh, sure.”

You gave a relieved smile before taking a look at the still empty street you were both heading for. The sky turned into shades of amaranthine and bit by bit street lights began illuminating the path. The streets nearing your house weren’t as deserted as the one you woke up in, and occasionally you had to move to a more hidden route. Fortunately you’ve been greeted by your neighborhood cat soon after, indicating the destination- your safe home.

“I don’t think you told me your real name yet, if I may know? I’m y/n by the way.”

“It’s Garou,” he responded after looking around, almost hesitantly.

“So… Why were you doing that today?” you spoke as you reached out for your keys.

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Dunno, you don’t see someone beating up heroes every day.”

Taking a quick glance around your surroundings, you opened the door at last.

“You sure like answering questions with a question, huh?” you gave a tired smile, “ah, I won’t force out any answers from you I guess.”

The lights in the hallway were already open, illuminating the other rooms, some half empty. After all you still had some work to do in the house. Making your way to your room, the bag of trash next to the wall caught your attention briefly. You couldn’t remember the reason you left off in such a hurry, not even throwing it away.

“Well, come in!” you shouted from the other room, “just don’t get any blood on the carpet please.”

But much to your amusement the on-the-outside intimidating man just stood there with a blank expression ever since you stepped into the apartment. You weren’t sure was it politeness or just plain awkwardness but it made you cackle internally.

Even so, after your call he cautiously stepped out to the living room, actually being careful not to dirty the carpet as you told. The room was pleasingly decorated, and even if he didn’t know you it simply radiated with your energy. It was oddly comfortable.

And as you finally stepped out of your room with that first-aid kit, a ring on your doorbell caught you both by surprise. You almost asked yourself whether that’s a hero in front of the door, before your memory got jogged again.

“Well shit.”

You gestured an already alert and intense Garou to step away from the door, to which he only raised an eyebrow.

“Ah…” you whispered, looking over to the side, “I kinda forgot I called a friend over.”

“You remembered just now!?”

“I was knocked out!” you complained, much to his discontent.

What were you supposed to do now? You thought to yourself as your eyes trailed from the door to the teen. The doorbell rang once again as to make the atmosphere grow even more unsteady.

“Guess we have to improvise…”

“You’re joking right?”

“If she saw a beat-up guy jumping out my window I wouldn’t hear the end of it.”

He only rolled his eyes as you went to the door to finally greet your friend, adjusting your shirt along the way.

Frankly, you felt somewhat guilty for roping him in, all bloody and bruised to socialize with your rather concerned friend. Well, who wouldn’t get a little suspicious to see a strange man in their friend’s living room. To make things even more awkward he hadn’t said more than two sentences in the past hour, not that it’s surprising.

“So-,” your friend smiled, desperately trying not to glare at the man’s injuries, “- how did you two become friends?”

“Ah, it’s from that monster incident I told you about earlier,” you smiled back.

“So that’s why he’s so bruised,” she glanced over at him sympathetically, to which he only glared at you deadpan.

“Nothing special.” He spoke in a bluntly before yawning.

“Oh, how come?”

“He delivers stuff!” you exclaimed before any other thoughts came to mind, “sometimes he comes across them there too unfortunately. Poor guy.”

As if his deadpan look couldn’t get any drier.

It was crystal clear he hates being pitied, and you desperately tried not to let out a chuckle because of the ridiculous situation. Truthfully you weren’t even nervous anymore since you let out so many laughs. And your constant teasing only made him talkative since he just had to drop something even more embarrassing for payback, making the evening even more amusing. You didn’t even notice the clock struck midnight already from all the banter.

After saying farewell to your friend, you came back to your living room to see Garou already at the window.

“Looks like you really don’t wanna use the door today huh? Well, way better now than having to explain why some bloody dude jumped out my window earlier,” you grinned, to which he scoffed.

“Pfft, yeah, yeah. Don’t drag me into any more of these things though.”

“Aw, it wasn’t that bad.”

“Well, it better not happen anymore,” he rolled his eyes before flashing a small grin.

“See ya.”

You only gave your small wave before finally closing the window. The apartment was now rather serene, contrasting all the playfulness from earlier. Yet still you couldn’t help but notice that smile caught you by surprise. Nothing like that cocky smirk in battle- this was genuine.

#feel free to tell me your thoughts 💕#garou #garou x reader #one punch man #opm #opm x reader #one punch man x reader #garou headcanons #garou x y/n #opm fanfic #garo

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Text

Friday Night Stabby best quotes part 32 (01/10/21)

Brody was missing from this session so Joker filled in for him.

(also, as weird as this sounds, cw for mentions of blood IRL)

…

Astro: Joker, do you wanna vouch for me that I didn’t kill this person? Joker: Astro and Skizz didn’t, but Astro was thinking about it. So, you know, take that for what it’s worth. Etho: We all have those thoughts though.

...

Impulse: I will admit, I have a weird new role that I don’t know what it means. Astro: Poisoner? Impulse, the poisoner: No. Skizz: Jerkface McJerkyton? That’s not new.

...

*Evil and Skizz are accusing each other, Astro is the deciding vote* Astro: I have a question. Give me a number between one and twenty. Skizz first. Skizz: Wow. I go first? Astro: Yup. Skizz: Uhh… ten. Astro: Okay. Evil? Evil: Eighteen. Astro: By the… laws of the… averages, uh… *votes* Sorry, Evil.

...

Joker: I’d like to make an announcement. Skizz: Go. Joker: I’m not friends with Skizz anymore. He marinated me. I’m not talking to him anymore, so if someone can tell Skizz this information, that’d be great. Skizz, laughing: Impulse, if you could tell the Joker I don’t care.

...

Etho: I trust Evil the most this round. Evil: ...and I’m not sure I trust you, Etho. Impulse: Ooooohhh. Spicy.

...

Evil: -and when I came back up, Pearl was dead. And I only heard one other voice. And he’s a very slippery fruit. Endless: Oh dear. Impulse: Apples are slippery too. It wasn’t me, though. Tango: Go slip on an apple! Endless: I was reading way too much into that statement, okay, let’s go.

...

Impulse: I was heading to the microwave in the cafeteria to cook a burrito. Skizz: Was it bacon and egg or bean and cheese? This matters. Impulse: I didn’t make it to the cafeteria cuz this got called. Tango: How do you know it was a burrito, then? Skizz: OOHOOHOOO. VOTING IMPULSE. Impulse: Cuz that’s what I’m hungry for! Allow me to dream!

...

Joker: I was there with the body. It was Endless. The last thing he said, and I quote: “Joker is amazing. And I’m sorry that I have to die.” Impulse: Don’t buy it. Don’t buy it. Joker: That’s what he said. I held his body as he died and that was the last thing he said. *pause* Joker: He also said “make sure to let everybody know that Skizz smells like poop.” Skizz: Ah, there it is.

...

Tango: Voting Skizz. Skizz: Whoa! Impulse: Was Skizz on the stack? Etho? Skizz: I was several steps away from it. Tango: I dunno, Skizz deserves to be voted off. Joker: I mean, I have to agree with that.

...

*Skizz cut his foot on broken glass during the break* Endless: Not gonna lie, my wife would kill me if that happened. She’d be like “yeah I’m sorry about your foot but what’d you do to the carpet?” Tango: Yeah, you heal; the carpet doesn’t.

...

Impulse: Think we might have to go another round without Skizz. Joker: Are they gonna have to amputate? Impulse: Probably. Joker: Yeah, I’d imagine so. Impulse: Be cool if he got one of those peg legs. Joker: I think he’s got an extra foot in his mouth, so he can use that. Evil: Wow… Impulse, snickering: Brutal. Joker: Was- Was that too soon? Impulse: Too soon, too soon. I mean, the dude’s still bleeding, you know?

...

Tango: Is Skizz back? Skizz: I’m back. Tango: Eyyyy, Skizzleblood! Skizz: Dude, I cleaned up all the glass, I cleaned up all the blood- Tango: Tell me it’s like a crime scene in your living room right now, that’s all I wanna hear. Skizz: -and then I made myself a drink and I’m coming up the stairs - I have tile stairs - and I’m like “oh there’s blood all over the stairs- I’ll get that later.” Tango: YEAH! Priorities! That’s what I like to hear!

...

*Skizz’s colour has turned from blue to grey due to a glitch* Tango: So Skizz, you’ve been grey. Skizz: I got- I got nothin’. Tango: Did you- How much blood did you lose? Are you turning into a- Skizz: *bursts out laughing* Evil: Zombieeeee.

...

*body is reported* Tango: I did the pipes! I did the pipes! I did the pipes! I did the pipes! I did the pipes! *pause* Endless: Congratulations? Tango: I PIPED!

...

Joker: If Tango could just finish his pipe dream earlier, the game would’ve been over. Tango: Is there a kick feature in this game? Just curious, asking for a friend. Endless: Yeah, if you go into the chat, there’s a boot option. Tango: OH! Joker: Endless. Shut up.

...

Evil: Do we wanna switch maps and see if there’s more stability? Tango: Yes. I’m done with this map. Impulse: But I just took pictures! Tango: Can we play, like, the real map? Impulse: I got kicked off the ship for taking those pictures! Joker: Whoa. I dunno what I just walked into but that did not sound right. Endless, overlapping: Yeah, I’ve been there. That’s- That is not something you want on your record.

...

*Impulse saw Tango morph back from being yellow* Impulse: *calls meeting* Impulse: What’s it like when an apple tries to become a banana? Skizz: Ooh, it’s like a smoothie! Endless, chuckling: What? Skizz, in a funny voice: Put a little blueberry in there. Tango: We got a little fruit action going on there or what? Joker: How much blood did you lose, Skizz? You feeling okay?

...

Skizz: Etho. Say words. I like your voice. Etho: What’s up, buddy? What do you want to know? Skizz: I wanna know why you killed sweet Pearl. Etho: Which round? Skizz: Ohohh man. THIS round! Body’s not even cold!

...

Astro: We’re trying for our first task win. Oh, unless Joker’s not gonna do his task. Joker: I- Uh… What, Astro? Astro: Huh? What? What? Where? Huh? Joker: Tasks?

...

Skizz: Who is not doing their tasks?! What IS that? Astro: I’ll give you seven guesses. Skizz: Joker Joker Joker Joker Joker Joker Joker. Joker: Someone called? Skizz: Are you- Are you not- Do you have tasks, Jokes? *long pause* Joker: Um… Are we talking about like, around my house? Skizz: *sighs* Okay.

...

Joker:*reports a body* Joker: OH I found this! Impulse: *laughs* “Oh I found this”? Joker, also laughing: I don’t know why I said it that way.

...

Skizz: Can you do your last task? Cuz that would just be super. Joker: Yeah, Endless. Can you do your last task? Endless: My tasks are done, dude! Joker: Oh. Then I guess you don’t need to do it. Skizz, why are you asking him to do his last task? Skizz: Talking to YOU, Jokes.

...

*Mrs Tango’s body is reported* Endless: It’s just Mrs Tango, let’s move on. Joker: That’s rude, Endless. Endless: Skipping. Moving on.

...

Endless: Whoever killed Mrs Tango, you’ve got my full support. Joker: Endless. Stop it.

...

Impulse: I wonder if Endless and Evil were both imposters and they were trying to cover it up by having a fake conversation in the upper left engine. Evil: No, it was a conversation about the fact that I miss him. Impulse: Yeaaaaah, that felt strange. Like, nobody misses Endless ever. Skizz: Yeah that’s definitely fake. Impulse: That’s what sold me, dude. I was like there’s no way he’s giving him compliments.

...

Skizz: I love you buddy but I just- I’m not even gonna vote for you, I just want to put some sus because- Impulse: You’re wrong. You’re wrong; you lost too much blood. You’re wrong. Skizz: That could be it. That could be it. Impulse: You’ve admitted that you’re off tonight, right? Skizz: No I didn’t, I’ve been crushing it. I was off on Etho ONE time and it got me a little- It shook my confidence. Impulse: Get me voted off, Skizz. I want your confidence to be crushed. Skizz: Oh…

...

Joker: You know what, I just wanna vote Endles out cuz I’m getting tired of his… poop. Endless: Do it, let’s do it. Etho: He might be jester. Endless, in an ominous whisper: Yesss, I’m jester.

...

*Joker is ejected* Endless: If this is wrong, we’re never gonna finish this game. Joker: Nope. You’re not. Now you gotta figure it out. Skizz: If we’re wrong, you gotta [do your tasks]. Do it for me. Oh, that was never gonna sell him.

...

Skizz: I think Impulse might be jester, I think the imposters are Etho and Evil, and the only legit people are me and Pearl. Impulse: *gasps* Evil: Wrong. Skizz, you are so wrong. Skizz: I KNOW I AM; I CAN’T DO THIS GAME ANYMORE! I WAS SO GOOD WHEN WE STARTED! I HATE THIS GAME! Pearl: You are wonderfully right, I had my hand on that scanner. Skizz: I BELIEVE PEARLY POP! VOTING EVIL!

...

Skizz: Hey! Tango! Why is Joker done with his tasks like three weeks before you? Tango: I dunno, man. I don’t know what’s happening right now. Joker: Yeah! Yeah! How’s that, huh?! How about now, sucker?! Skizz: *bursts out laughing* Joker: I- I dunno, I felt… I felt vindicated for some reason.

#impulsesv #tangotek #skizzleman #etho #misterjoker #theendless #evilnotion #mrstango #pearlescentmoon #astrozoan #friday night stabby #friday night stabby quotes

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montrealmadison · 3 years

Text

find our way back home

for @omgcpanniversaryweek day 4: free day

(here’s my first ever check please fic! because we all need a little more jack & shitty friendship in our lives. takes place the morning after the cup final.)

Late morning sunlight is slanting across the floor of the kitchen when Bitty gently nudges Jack away from the counter. “Honey,” he says, wearing that soft expression that Jack knows to mean let me take care of you, “why don’t you go lie down for a minute? I can finish up in here.”

Jack’s been up to his elbows in soapy water for the last twenty minutes. Doing the dishes is meditative, a task almost mind-numbing in its simplicity, and he’s been enjoying the chance to just shut off his brain after the presser. He can still feel residual exhaustion tugging at his limbs, though, and a nap does sound like an excellent idea.

“I’m not being rude by going to sleep, am I?”

“Shoot, no,” Bitty says. “Have you seen the state of the living room? Most folks’re passed out in there. Hell, Tater and Chowder were cuddling last I checked.”

“Ha, okay, then I’ll go,” says Jack. “Can you get a picture of Tater and Chowder for posterity, though?”

Bitty holds up his phone with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Already did.”

Jack laughs and leans down for a kiss, reveling in the sweet sound of surprise Bitty makes in the back of his throat. Then, smiling, Jack heads down the hall to their bedroom—only to find that he’s not alone.

Shitty’s sprawled in the big chair in the corner, the one that’s usually covered in laundry that Jack hasn’t gotten around to putting away. Thankfully he’s at least partially clothed (even if it’s just a pair of maple leaf-patterned boxers and one blue and gold Falcs sock on his left foot) and scrolling idly through his phone.

He starts when Jack walks in, pushes himself halfway to his feet. “Sorry to invade, Jacko. I was just checking my email, I can—”

“Shits.” Jack feels himself starting to smile. “Since when have you cared about invading my space, dude? Does constantly naked on my bed ring a bell for you?”

Shitty’s expression relaxes, and he blows out a long breath. “I don’t know, man. It’s different.”

“Different how?”

“Dunno. Just feels kinda weird to be all up in your space now that you’re a ‘real adult’.” He uses gratuitous air quotes, and he smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Something about Shitty’s tone rubs Jack the wrong way. He knows how important Shitty’s friendships with the Samwell guys are to him, how hard it’s been for him in law school without them around all the time. He hides it well, but Jack knows a thing or two about what it feels like to hide when what you really need is to be seen. He doesn’t want Shitty to have to do that.

He resolves to invite himself up to Boston more often, just to check in. It’s what Shitty would do for him.

“Hope you know you’re always welcome,” Jack says. “In fact, I’m gonna crash for a bit, and just ‘cause I’m a ‘real adult’ doesn’t mean I don’t snuggle anymore. Wanna stay?”

This time Shitty smiles for real. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Jack curls back up in the spot he left just a few hours ago, flipping the opposite corner of the comforter down for Shitty. His friend dives under the covers and wastes no time in making himself at home, slinging an arm over Jack’s stomach and reeling him in.

They lie there in comfortable silence for a minute. For a moment it almost feels like they’re back in the Haus: the sleepy sounds of the team coming slowly to life all around them, the smell of Bitty’s cooking wafting in from the kitchen, the easy presence of Shitty at his back. It’s nice, Jack decides.

Finally Shitty breaks the silence to ask, “So, how do you feel?”

Jack considers the question. He feels… complicated, at the moment. He’s trying to cement the lingering scenes from last night into his memory forever: cameras flashing, champagne running down his face and soaking into his jersey, his friends’ bodies crushed against his. He feels the heavy weight of the Cup in his hands, the dream of twenty-six long years finally realized.

He’s been thinking a lot about the eighteen-year-old kid with wide blue eyes and curling hair who woke up restrained to a hospital bed and thought his life was over. Last night Jack pressed the Cup to his lips and shed tears of joy and wished, fervently, that there was some way to send this feeling back through the years. We did it, Jack. We deserve this. Keep fighting.

“I feel good, Shits,” he says at last, softly and kind of awed. “I still can’t believe it’s real.”

“Believe it, dude.” Shitty’s tone is bright, but his expression turns serious, earnest. “Listen, I’m so fuckin’ proud of you. You know that, right?”

“I…”

Jack huffs out a long breath. How can he tell Shitty how much his pride means? How can he tell him he’s glad for Shitty’s stubborn willingness to stick around, for the way he latched onto Jack at their first practice when everyone else was too intimidated by his name and his legacy and his sordid past to say two words to him? How can he tell him how grateful he is for every Annie’s trip, every late night in the library, every friendly bump of their shoulders in the locker room?

How can he tell Shitty that his enthusiasm, his unwavering friendship, and his fierce faith in Jack are a huge part of the reason the Cup is sitting in Jack’s living room right now?

He can’t begin to hope to put it into words. But he thinks Shitty gets it all the same.

“I love you, Shits,” he says in the end, and it feels like enough. Shitty squeezes him once, gently, butts his head into Jack’s shoulder. His breath is soft on the back of Jack’s neck, and his presence is a warm, familiar comfort.

At last, Jack feels himself relax into sleep.

#omgcpanniversaryweek #omgcp #check please #jack zimmermann #shitty knight #eric bittle #my writing

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obwjam · 3 years

Note

okay your writing is amazing. could u write something with bucky and sam finding a scared tiny? to celebrate the falcon and the winter soldier coming out

fjsdflksfl thank u!! 🥺 i literally love them so much it’s a problem i cannot wait for ep 2

-------------

“Sam, what the hell is that?”

“What--I don’t know! What makes you think I would know?”

“I don’t know! Maybe it’s some 21st century thing--”

“21st century thing -- do you know what you sound like sometimes? Like a parody, that’s what.”

“Hey, how am I supposed to--”

“Come on man, stop yelling! Look. You’re scaring it.”

“Her.”

“What?”

“I said her! I… think it’s a her.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at the tiny, cowering figure in front of him. Whatever this thing was, it did have long hair and female-looking features.

“Fine. Her. You’re scaring her. Happy?”

“Yes I am, actually. Thank you.”

“Ugh.” Sam rolled his eyes. It had taken Bucky months to finally answer his texts, and when he arrived at his old acquaintance’s apartment, they had found this little thing wandering around the countertop. Just his luck that he couldn’t have one normal day in his life.

“...what are we gonna do with her?” Bucky asked, the snippiness gone from his voice. He thought he was being paranoid. He didn’t have a whole lot of stuff in his possession, so anytime something went missing or was moved around, he noticed. Ever since he had moved in, he had a feeling he was being watched. He thought it was just a symptom of being a civilian after having been a killing machine on autopilot for 70 years.

“Do we have to do anything?” Sam frowned, peering harder. The girl was visibly shaking, clutching onto what he could only assume was some kind of homemade satchel. “She looks terrified.”

“I think I would be too if I were her,” Bucky said, leaning in a bit closer to get a better look at her. She flinched and stumbled backwards, making Bucky’s heart wrench. Their gazes were locked, and Bucky swore he could feel her fear just by looking at her eyes. Maybe he could just…

“Hey, hey, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Sam warned, putting his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. His gloved hand had started to move toward her, and the fear in her eyes only intensified.

“I don’t want her to run away,” Bucky said quietly. “She could get hurt.”

She gulped. Not only had she been discovered, but the giants weren’t going to let her go? She should have known this was going to happen. This is why borrowers never test their luck.

“Look, I wanna help too, but…” Sam trailed off. It felt weird talking about her when she was right there in front of them. He turned his attention to her, and he saw her clutch her bag harder and bring one of her legs back. She was preparing to run. “What’s your name?”

She was frozen. Why would he want to know her name?

“It’s alright,” Sam said softly. He bent down so his face was at her level. “I’m Sam. This is Bucky. I know you’re probably freakin’ out down there, but we don’t wanna hurt you.”

Her eyes darted from giant to giant. She had never seen the one in front of her before -- Sam. And the one who owned this place -- Bucky -- rarely ever said a word. He spent most of his time watching TV, cooking or sleeping. She had quickly learned that borrowing at night would be a no-go with the way he woke up screaming and sweating almost every night. But he went out every single afternoon without fail. How was she supposed to know he’d come back with somebody this time?

“I don’t think she can understand us,” Bucky said, hovering over Sam’s shoulder.

“That’s bullshit. Of course she can understand us.” He paused. “You can understand us, right?”

Meekly, the tiny girl nodded. Sam turned to Bucky with an “of course I was right” face.

“P-please…” she whimpered. Sam and Bucky looked at her in surprise. “Please--please let me go…”

Sam was taken aback. “We’re not… nobody’s keeping you here,” he said so quietly it was practically a whisper. Her eyes flashed up to Bucky, who was looking at her with his mouth agape.

“He wants to.”

Sam turned his head to Bucky. He looked wildly uncomfortable.

“Man, we gotta let her go,” Sam said, a hint of melancholy to his voice.

“It’s not safe for you out there,” Bucky replied immediately, addressing the girl. “We can help you.”

“N-no, you--you can’t,” she spluttered, taking a few small steps backwards. The two stared at each other in a long silence, eyes trembling.

She had to make her move.

She spun on her heels and pushed off her back foot toward the small crack in the wall she had entered through minutes earlier. She nearly tripped as her momentum shifted, but she was able to center herself as she picked up speed.

But before she could get very far, she smacked into something. She could barely even blink before a massive gloved hand slammed down in front of her path and she helplessly bounced off it, falling to the ground in a heap. Why did it just feel like she hit a brick wall?

“Dude!” Sam yelled, standing up to his full height and grabbing Bucky’s shoulders. He pushed him, and the two staggered backwards. Bucky’s gaze never left the girl.

“What the hell was that! You hurt her!”

“I…” Bucky started, but he stopped himself. He couldn’t really explain why he did what he just did. The girl groaned, rolling over onto her back as the pain slowly melted and gave way to terror. It didn’t matter what she wanted to do. She was powerless against them. She slowly sat up, brought her hands to her face and began to cry.

“Good going, man,” Sam groaned, giving Bucky a shove before turning back to the girl.

“Hey, it--it’s alright,” Sam tried to sound soothing. “Don’t cry. Please. He didn’t mean to do that. He doesn’t know his own strength sometimes.”

The girl shook her head and kept crying.

“I don’t think you’re helping.”

Sam scoffed and looked at Bucky. “Oh, you wanna try?”

Slowly, Bucky walked back over to the counter and knelt down. The girl looked so small, curled in on herself. She had barely made a shockwave when she hit his hand.

“I’m… sorry,” he said stiffly. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Man, are you kidding me?”

“What? I said sorry!”

“Oh my god.” Sam rubbed his eyes and tugged on Bucky’s shoulder. The two stood up and shuffled over to the back wall, keeping a loose eye on the girl. She was still crying and not looking.

“Look, dude. I don’t know what the hell she’s supposed to be, but I do know that she’s scared shitless of us. Of you. And you seem to have a problem with that.”

Bucky was silent.

“I’d rather just let her go, but if you really wanna try and help her, you gotta stop being so afraid of yourself, or else she’ll never stop being afraid of you too. Okay?”

A few beats of silence fell between the two. The only sounds they could hear were the muffled bustle of the street outside and her soft sobs and gasps.

Slowly, Bucky made his way back to the counter again. Sam stayed put.

“Hey,” he said, cringing at how silly he sounded. The girl whipped her head up, surprised to see Bucky in front of her. The sounds of her crying were quickly replaced with whimpers. “No no, it’s okay. I… I didn’t mean to hurt you before. Honest. I--I just… it’s a rough place out there. I’m sure you know that, but--but I--we--me and Sam--we could help, you know. Help you stay safe.”

She rubbed the excess tears from her eyes and blinked.

“It wouldn’t be that hard. We could give you food and a warm place to sleep at night.”

“Only warm if you know how to go online and pay your bills,” Sam smirked from the back. Bucky shot him a look.

“Don’t listen to him. I know how to 'go online’.”

“You still use a flip phone.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow when he heard a sound from her he didn’t expect: laughter. Her hand covered her mouth, but her eyes were smiling at their banter.

“You… do you really want to help?” she ventured to ask. Bucky stared at her for a second, surprised and elated to hear her say something.

“Of course I do. You shouldn’t have to survive on your own if there are people who’re willing to help.”

Sam smiled, kicking himself up off the wall and putting his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Nobody should.”

“Do you wanna tell us your name now?” Bucky asked. He found himself smiling at her relaxed body language. Her leg was bouncing and she still gave them nervous looks, but she wasn’t cowering anymore and she certainly wasn’t crying.

“Ava,” she said quietly. “My name’s Ava.”

“Ava,” Bucky repeated. “That’s nice.”

“So, James, Ava,” Sam said, “why don’t I go get us some lunch, and you two can stay here and get to know each other better. Alright?”

Bucky’s stomach rumbled. He was starving. “I’ll take pastrami on rye. Go to Jerry’s, he’ll know it’s for me.” Bucky turned to his tiny friend, who was looking at Sam warily. It struck him that the fear of seeing him towering over her like a building wasn’t going to go away after a few pleasantries were exchanged. They could work on that.

“I… uh…” Ava didn’t know what to say. “I dunno. Surprise me, I--I guess. I’ve never had to choose…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find you something,” Sam chirped. “You kids behave now, you hear?”

“Get outta here!” Bucky yelled playfully, waving his hand at Sam as he shut the door behind him.

Ava couldn’t stop herself from smiling. Maybe giants weren’t so bad after all.

#THEY ARE SO CHAOTIC #they simply cannot get along until they are forced to #i cant believe theyre only giving us six episodes disney should be arrested for that #asks #marvel g/t #obwrites

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bakuhoes-dumbass · 3 years

Text

Love at first Lyric

Kuroo x F!Reader

Words: 1.7k

Slight Angst/Fluff

A/N: Currently obsessed with Haikyuu so I needed to write something. This isn’t really my best work so bare with me. ;^;

~~~

A recently depressed Kuroo comes to see you perform with your cover band for the first time.

~~~

Kuroo sighs, his head in his hands as he sits on the sidelines of the volleyball court. Kenma and Yaku glance at each other in worry before looking back at the team captain. Yaku sits down next to him and pats Kuroo on the shoulder.

"You doin alright there, big guy?"

Kuroo shakes his head, removing his hands from his face and side-eyes the libero. "I mean, the person I've been pining for the last few months of my life led me on, found themselves a partner and doesn't talk to me anymore." Kuroo sighs and buries his face in his hands once again. "So no, not doin alright right now, thanks for asking."

Kenma lightly slaps the back of the short boy's head, earning him a slight glare. He sits down on the other side of Kuroo, opening his phone to play his game. "You know, Shoyo said Tsuki's cousin is in this cover band and they're playing tonight in Tokyo. We should go, take your mind off of everything."

Kuroo looks at his best friend. "I dunno…"

"Dude, a concert?! I'm totally down!" Lev pops up out of nowhere with a goofy grin on his face.

"Of course you are." Kenma mumbles with an eye roll. He speaks directly to Kuroo once again. "Come on, you need it."

Kuroo raises a brow at the pudding headed boy, who hasn't looked up from his game. "You, Mr. Anti-social, want to go out to a venue that holds multiple people in one teeny tiny space?"

Kenma sighs. "Can you please just come?"

Kuroo chuckles lightly. "Fine. Only because you asked."

Kenma gives Kuroo a light smile before tuning back to his game. The rest of the team chats excitedly about tonight's concert, not noticing Kuroo's smile fading, once again, into a look of heartbreak.

~~~

"Yay! You guys made it!"

The Nekoma team smiles at the excited ginger, who was bouncing around. Kageyama grabbed Hinata by the collar and dragged him away to calm him down. Tsukishima scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Did you have to invite everyone to this?"

Hinata pouts and struggles against Kageyama's hold. "Calm down, it was just Kenma and the rest of the Nekoma team. Not a big deal."

Daichi and Sugawara sweatdrop at the interactions before turning to Nekoma and greeting everyone. Kuroo keeps quietly behind everyone, making Daichi tilt his head in concern. Usually he'd be the first one to greet everyone with a large smile. But before he could say anything, the lights in the venue dimmed, causing the crowd's talks to turn into a quiet murmur. Suddenly a spotlight appears on stage, revealing you and your band. The crowd cheers, a smile sliding across your lips.

"Hey guys! My name is Y/N and we are Cats Cradle!" The crowd goes wild, making you laugh. "Tonight we will be covering some of your favorites! Up first is 'Remember We Die' by Gemini Syndrome!" The crowd goes wild as the music starts and you bring the mic closer to your body, opening your mouth to sing.

Can you lend me a hand? Can you help me to see? Can you reconcile this war inside of me?

As soon as the lyrics leave your mouth, Kuroo's jaw drops. His eyes fixate on you, the angelic vocals that hit his ears causing the room around him to fade. With wide eyes, he focuses on nothing but you.

Remember we die But you're still alive So don't let go Cause it's the only thing you know There's plenty of time To see the other side

You get to the chorus, belting out the words with full emotion. Kuroo's heart beats faster, completely mesmerized by your voice and visuals, watching only you the entire time.

The crowd roars as you finish the set. A wide smile drifts over your features.

"Thank you everyone! Next song is going to change the pace a bit." You wave to the band, who exits off-stage. "You're all stuck with just little-ole-me! Next up, 'My Strange Addiction' by Billie Eilish!"

Kuroo's hands clench at the mention of the song title. It's one of his favorites and he gets to see this beautiful person in front of him sing. The music starts up over the speaks, as the lights dim once more and the spotlight is on you.

Don't ask questions you don't wanna know Learned my lesson way too long ago To be talkin’ to you, belladonna Shoulda taken a break, not an Oxford comma Take what I want when I wanna And I want ya

Kuroo watches you in awe, your eyes closed while singing passionately. He focuses on how your body sways back and forth to the beat, making his tongue dart out to moisten his drying lips.

Bad, bad news One of us is gonna lose I'm the powder, you're the fuse Just add some friction

Your eyes snap open suddenly and gaze over the crowd. Your eyes lock on Kuroo's, making his breath hitch. The world dissolves around you while gazing into those bronze-like eyes and your heart skips a beat. The two of you stare at one another while you sing the chorus.

You are my strange addiction You are my strange addiction My doctors can't explain My symptoms or my pain But you are my strange addiction

You tried to share your gaze to the rest of the crowd, however you couldn't help but snap your eyes back to the mysterious black-haired beauty in the crowd. You gave up the fight and continued your performance while melting at the man in the crowd. As the performance finished, you sent the man a wink and walked off the stage.

Kuroo's heart beats fast and his breath is quick. 'What the hell was that?' He holds his hand to his heart, willing it to stop beating so fast. 'That girl…wow.'

"Uh, Kuroo?" Kenma looks at his best friend with furrowed brows, noticing he's in a dazed state, his hand on his chest. "Uh, are you okay?"

"Kenma…" Kuroo breathes out. His eyes are still on the spot on stage where you just left. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Kenna's eyes widen at the question but let's out a small laugh. "You know, I brought you here to keep your mind off of 'you-know-what', not to fall in love with Tsuki's cousin." Kuroo is still dazed, not replying. Kenma sighs and shakes his head, a small smile on his face.

Suddenly there are small cheers in the crowd near their group. You emerged from the crowd, bowing as you passed by. "Ah, thank you for coming, everyone. Thank you- TSUKI!"

You smile at the tall salty man who just looks at you with a look of disdain. Hinata jumps on your back laughing. "Y/N, you did amazing!!"

You laugh and pat the boy on the head. "Thanks, Hinata! I really appreciate you all coming!"

"Oh, Y/N!" Hinata jumps off your back and stands next to a group of boys you've never seen before. You notice one of the guys was the mysterious one you made eye contact with, making your face heat up. "We brought a few friends, they're from Nekoma!" Hinata proceeds to introduce every boy and you give them each a smile and small greeting. He then lands on the one you were most curious about. "And last but not least, this is Kuroo. He's the their team's captain!"

You and Kuroo stare into eachothers eyes for a moment in silence, making everyone shift uncomfortable. You give him a small smile. "Um, hi Kuroo. I'm Y/N."

Kuroo swallows the lump in his throat and gives you a shaky smirk. "H-hey. Nice to meet you."

The awkwardness of the situation makes Kenma grimace. He turns to the rest of the group and gestures to give you and Kuroo some space. Everyone understands and backs off, turning to find their own conversations with each other. Tsukishima glares at the exchange Kuroo has with you but listens anyway, knowing Kuroo is a decent guy.

Kuroo breathes a sigh of relief and silently thanks Kenma. "Your set was amazing. You can really sing."

You fiddle with your fingers and let out a light laugh. "Oh, thank you. I have a lot of fun while doing it."

The two of you make light conversation [and small flirts] up until the lights start to dim on and off. You look up at the sound booth before turning back to Kuroo. "Ah, that's my cue. I gotta go back up and finish my set."

You go to turn around before feeling a hand grip your wrist lightly. You turn your head to see a red-faced Kuroo. He quickly released you, rubbing the nape of his neck. "U-Um, sorry. I-I didn't mean to grab you. I just wanted to know i-if you would want to...you know… go out some time? W-with me?"

Your eyes widen and your face heats up once again, but you nod quickly and smile. "I would love that, Kuroo." You take a marker from your back pocket and grab his hand, writing your phone number on the back. "Shoot me a text and we'll make a date." Winking at him, you wave to the rest of the boys before heading back on stage.

"ALRIGHT, EVERYONE! GET READY FOR THIS!" You yell into the mic and hold your hand up for the band to start playing.

OOOOH, I MISS THE MISERY!

I've been a mess since you stayed I've been a wreck since you changed Don't let me get in your way I miss the lies and the pain The fights that keep us awake I'm telling you

Kuroo stands there in shock, still staring at your number on the back of his hand. His face is beat red and his smile grows into a large grin. His eyes snap up to you on stage, his grin wide.

I miss the bad things The way you hate me I miss the screaming The way that you blame me Miss the phone calls When it's your fault I miss the late nights Don't miss you at all

Kenma glances to the side, noticing a head-bobbing Kuroo with a smile on his face and the sparkle returns to his eyes. He's glad to see his friend's spark back. He knew you'd be good for him.

~~~

A/N: Last song is ‘I miss the Misery’ by Halestorm. Sorry this was kinda shit LOL.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #kurro fluff #kuroo angst #haikyuu reactions #haikyuu scenarios #kuroo tetsuro angst #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu fanficion #kuroo tetsuro fanfiction #bakuhoesdumbass #bakuhoes-dumbass

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cobaltusami · 3 years

Text

Tropical Vacation pt. 2

Hey hi hello! This Is the last part for the day, I felt bad since the first one was so short and uneventful.

This one was funny to write, I liked writing Monokuma and Monomi's 'fight' scene xD

Characters In this part: Lee!Gundham, Lee!Kazuichi, Lee!Nagito, Ler!Nekomaru, Ler!Chiaki, Hajime, Fuyuhiko, Mahiru, Sonia, Hiyoko, Akane, Mikan, Peko

Words: 3,083

PT 1: [Click here], PT 2: [You are here.]

“KAZUICHI, I AM GOING TO DESTROY YOU!” Gundham yelled after his friend, chasing him down the beach in a full on sprint. The chase didn’t last very long though before Nekomaru quickly got In the middle of the two and held the breeder back.

“Easy Tanaka!” He barked. “What the hell Is going on?!”

“Yeah, Why are you so worked up? You guys sparrin’?” Akane asked..

“He’s trying to kill me!” Soda accused, pointing his finger at the angry boy in front of him.

“This fiend used some kind of powerful unseen force to send me flying into the water!” Gundham responded angrily. “You are lucky my Devas were not with me!”

Now that he mentioned It, Nekomaru did notice that Gundham was soaking wet.

“Easy dude! I was just playing around, I saw Sonia had your scarf and your zhu zhu pets!” Kazuichi retorted.

“THEY ARE NOT ZHU ZHU PETS!”

Nekomaru sighed in exasperation, why can’t It ever be something… normal with these two? “Y’know what, fine.” The larger student pushed both of them to the ground and proceeded to pin them both and tickle them. “If you’re gonna fight with each other… Then you’re gonna laugh with each other!”

Kazuichi shrieked as he felt his ribs being attacked, he cursed himself for not changing out of his swim attire back into his jumpsuit before launching Gundham into the water.

“NEHEHEHEKO NOHOHOHOHO!”

Gundham wasn’t much better off, Nekomaru was mercilessly tickling his exposed neck and collarbone. “FUAHAHAHAHAHA! F-FIEHEHEHEHEND STAHAHAHAP IHIHIT AT OHOHONCE!” He tried bringing his shoulders up to protect his neck but as soon as he would, Nekomaru would then attack his belly and hip, making his arms instinctively shoot back down to protect his body.

“Not until you two agree to stop fighting.”

“NOHOHOHO WAHAHAHAY! HEHEHE’S THE ONE WHO TRIHIHIHIED TO KILL ME!” Kazuichi cackled, flailing uselessly.

The Ultimate Team manager narrowed his eyes at the pinkette, he leaned down and blew a raspberry against his belly whilst vibrating his fingers into his ribcage.

Kazuichi exploded with screaming high pitched laughter, throwing his head back in the sand as he frantically shoved at Neko’s head and kicked at the sand.

He pulled back grinning then turned to Gundham, whose belly he was still tickling with his other hand. “Don’t think I forgot about you!” He teased, leaning down and blowing a raspberry against his neck.

Gundham burst into loud laughter, rivaling Kazuichi in volume. He tried to push Nekomaru away but this only seemed to encourage him, his other hand left Kazuichi giving him a chance to breathe and instead began poking at Gundham’s ribs and underarm teasingly.

He delivered another deadly raspberry to his sensitive neck, this time drawing a loud squeal followed by booming belly laughs. “GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!”

“Do you agree to stop fighting with Kazuichi?” Nekomaru asked, after a moment of no response he gifted him yet another raspberry.

“EEEAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FUAHAHAHAHAHA!” Tears were in the Supreme Overlord’s eyes from laughing so hard already.

“I’ll ask again, Are you gonna stop fighting?” He repeated, speeding up his tickles.

This time he was met with frantic nods. Nekomaru stopped tickling Gundham and turned back to Kazuichi. “Now, Will you stop fighting with Gundham?”

“As long as he doesn’t fight with me…” Kazuichi said nervously, sitting up.

“I don’t think that’ll be an issue, If he does, He knows what will happen to him!” Nekomaru laughed in amusement.

Gundham shakily sat up. “D-Do you also… vow… not to… push me Into anymore… water?” He panted.

“I dunno man, That’s kind of a hard one. The look on your face was hilarious!” Kazuichi grinned.

Nekomaru glanced at Gundham, upon seeing the somewhat downcast expression on his face he grabbed Kazuichi and held him down.

“ACK! Hey hey hey! What are you doing?!” He panicked.

“Promise you won’t throw him In anymore water.” He ordered.

“Okayokay! Jeez! I promise I won’t throw him In the water again!”

“And apologize to him.”

“What?!”

“You hurt his feelings, apologize for pushing him in the water.”

“No way! He didn’t apologize to me for chasing me!” Kazuichi fired back.

Nekomaru sighed. These damn kids never learn do they? “Gundham, C’mere.”

Gundham shuffled closer, looking questioningly at the larger student. “Yes?”

“There’s something I want you to do.” Nekomaru replied.

“What Is It, Fiend?”

“Hey, I don’t like where this is going…” Kazuichi squinted at Nekomaru, suspicious.

“Tickle him without mercy until he says he’s sorry.” The muscular student grinned at the horrified shriek that came from Kazuichi.

The Mechanic began frantically squirming, though he wasn’t able to move very much thanks to Nekomaru being freakishly strong. “Nononononono!” He didn’t much care for the dark look in Gundham’s eyes, nor the evil smile that followed.

Meanwhile further down the beach, the rest of the students were just chilling and enjoying the day. Or trying their best to.

“Are you sure we should not go check on Kazuichi and Gundham?” Sonia asked.

“Nah, I’m sure they’re fine.” Chiaki replied, building a sandcastle version of Princess Peach’s castle.

“Or one of them has finally killed the other and we’re going to have our first trial.” Hiyoko smirked. “I’m betting on Kazuichi being the dead person.”

Sonia looked horrified.

“Hiyoko!” Chiaki and Hajime chastised.

Mahiru approached the mischievous girl. “Okay, That’s a timeout.”

“What? But I--”

“Go sit on the steps!” she pointed to the steps leading to the beach, Hiyoko pouted and complied silently, crossing her arms as she sat down.

“Listen, I’m sure those two dumbasses are fine, Hiyoko’s just a bitch.” Hiko tried to reassure the blonde, Hajime tried not to laugh at that, but a chuckle slipped out. Mahiru wasn’t as amused.

“Hiko!”

“Where’s the lie?” Hajime whispered under his breath.

“Both of you get a timeout too.” Chiaki said as she stood up, she pointed to a second set of stairs. “Go sit until you can be nice.”

“Why? It’s--”

“I’m not going in fucking timeou--”

Chiaki squeezed Hajime’s side and poked at Fuyuhiko’s ribs, making them both immediately shut up. “Steps.”

They both complied, muttering under their breath as they sat down on the steps next to each other.

“You guys worried about Kazuichi and Gundham?” Akane asked, coming from the direction of said two students. “‘Cause they’re fine, Coach Nekomaru Is helpin’ them.”

Sonia let out a sigh of relief, her hand resting over her heart. “That Is good to hear, Gundham was quite mad when--”

She was cut off by a blood curdling scream that sounded vaguely like Kazuichi coming from the other side of the beach, followed by laughter. Sonia giggled. “I think I will go check on them anyway.” She said as she stood and walked off.

“Nekomaru Is wrecking them, Isn’t he?” Nagito asked amusedly.

“Oh totally.” Akane grinned. “I kinda forgot how vicious of a tickler he is, kind of makes me wanna challenge him to a tickle fight.”

“I think you’d lose.” Mahiru smiled in exasperation.

“For some reason, I get the impression that’s what she wants.” Hajime chuckled.

“Goodness! Whatever was that horrible scream?” Usami asked, appearing out of seemingly nowhere.

“Oh hey Usami.” Chiaki greeted the pink and white rabbit with a small smile. “It was the sound of Kazuichi getting tickled.”

Usami let out a small sigh of relief, then giggled. “Oh, That’s a relief. I am glad It was the sound of friendship, I thought for a moment that Monokuma had reappeared.”

“You rang?” Monokuma asked, suddenly next to her.

“Uwaaah! Where did you come from!?” Usami cried out in surprise.

“We could ask you the same thing…” Hajime said quietly.

“Wha? Has no one ever explained the bears and the bees to you?” Monokuma asked, tilting his head. “Alright I guess. Well, when two bears love each other very much--”

“Nooo! That is too mature for this audience!” Usami protested, putting her little hands on Monokuma to stop him.

“She does realize we’re not kids… Right?” Nagito whispered to Chiaki.

“For some reason, I don’t think she’s talking about us…” She whispered back.

Monokuma growled, his red eye flashing briefly before he shifted and threw all of his weight into his shoulder, promptly sending Usami flying from the force. “Keep your dirty pure hands to yourself, Monomi!”

“Uwaahh! It really hurts when you shoulder tackle me!” she cried, hitting the ground next to Chiaki.

“Anyways! I have an announcement for you Goody goody losers!” Monokuma said loudly as Nekomaru, Gundham, Kazuichi and Sonia all rejoined the group.

“Oh great, I get back just In time to listen to the homicidal tanuki.” Kazuichi frowned.

“For the last time, I am not a tanuki!” Monokuma snapped, raising his hand to threateningly show off his claws.

“He Is right, Children! Monokuma Is a bear, and--” Usami was cut off by Monokuma stomping over to kick her In the head.

“I don’t need your help!”

“Oogh! It hurts when you punt me too!” she sobbed, curling up in the sand. Chiaki got down on the ground next to her to comfort her.

Monokuma cleared his throat. “Now that Monomi Is done interrupting me, I have an announcement. As you know, I am the headmaster of Hope’s peak. That school, just like this island, Is currently full of students!”

“What?! There’s more than just us trapped by you?!” Kazuichi asked, shocked.

“Why are you telling us this?” Peko asked, crossing her arms.

“I’m glad you asked!” Monokuma bellowed. “Because, I think my students are starting to get depressed… So I think they might benefit from a change In scenery!”

“You don’t mean…” Hajime trailed off, nervous as to where this was going.

“Are you going to let those students out of the school??” Usami asked, surprised.

“Yup! Only for a while though, I wouldn’t want you all conspiring against me once you get acquainted with each other! I just hope those cold blooded killers can behave themselves for a few minutes...” Monokuma replied. “Puhuhu, Oops, did I say that out loud?”

“Acquainted with each other…?” Mahiru repeated. “You mean you’re…”

“You’re going to let them loose, Here!?” Kazuichi finished for her.

“You guessed It! Sharkboy Is today’s winner! Tell him what he’s won, Monomi!”

“W-What? What are you talking about n--”

Monokuma jumped into the air and elbow dropped the rabbit. “Nevermind! My joke Is ruined now, you’re so useless!”

“Uwah! It hurts when you elbow drop me!”

Hajime sighed at the scene before him. Is anything ever normal with these two?

After that, Monokuma left saying he had other business to attend to, After Usami had calmed down from getting a third strike from Monokuma she stood up and dusted herself off.

“What was he talking about? There aren’t really other students… Are there?” Mahiru asked apprehensively.

“No way, He’s clearly lying to us!” Kazuichi answered.

“There’s one way to find out…” Chiaki mumbled, looking at Usami. “Usami?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Was he telling the truth? Are there really more like us?” The pink haired girl asked softly.

Usami nervously looked away, stammering as she spoke. “W-Well, I don’t… i’m not…”

Chiaki frowned. “So It’s true. Is what he said about them true too?”

“N-No! I don’t… Think so…” Usami sighed softly, sitting on a beach towel. “Yes there Is more like you. I didn’t want to leave them, Please believe me! But I didn’t have time to grab any more of you before Monokuma showed up again.”

“Why didn’t you tell us before?!” Hajime snapped.

“Uwah!” Usami jumped In surprise, her ears drooping sadly. “I-I couldn’t! I felt too guilty and horrible for having to leave them behind! I can only imagine the horrors they’ve had to endure because of Monokuma.”

Chiaki gently petted the rabbit’s head. “It’s okay, It’s not your fault. It’s Monokuma’s fault.”

Usami sniffled, her ears perking back up. “Th-Thank you.” she cried. “But, I am at fault too. I should have fought him at that point, But I was scared and worried about what would happen to you all if I were to lose… I guess In the end It didn’t matter anyway.”

“So just to confirm, there’s a whole other group of students about to be released onto the island and we have no idea if they’re participating in the killing game or not...?” Mahiru asked quietly, fear prominent in her eyes.

Hiyoko got up and went over to her girlfriend, wrapping her arms around her to comfort her. “It’s okay, Mahiru! I won’t let them hurt you!”

Mahiru blushed. “I-I wasn’t scared!”

“I am afraid so.” Usami confirmed grimly, though the next moment… “However! This could be a very good thing too, Perhaps they are like you and refuse to play his game!” She suggested brightly.

Hajime felt a pit In his stomach, It took him a while to warm up to and trust the students trapped with him... he was definitely nervous and untrusting of this.

“Usami Is right!” Nagito spoke up. “We have to stay *Hopeful!”

Oh here we go…

“They are Hope’s peak academy students, after all! I’m sure they’re as reserved and strong willed as all of you Ultimate’s!” Nagito smiled, getting that look In his eyes again.

“Nagito…” Hajime said warningly, not wanting to listen to his speech again. “Remember what happened last time you droned on about Hope and Ultimates?”

“Oh, Right! Sorry, I guess even trash can be forgetful too, I’ll try to stop.” He smiled sympathetically at the Tsundere student.

“Stop calling yourself trash.” Chiaki frowned.

“But…” He stopped himself as Hajime and Chiaki both folded their arms and glared at him warningly. “O-Okay… Even though I am…--”

“Say It, and you’ll be sorry.” Chiaki puffed her cheeks in annoyance.

Nagito blinked, weighing his options. “Why are you so upset about me calling myself trash? I am trash. Do you get mad at everyone for speaking the truth?”

Unfortunately as he usually does, He chose incorrectly. Chiaki threw herself at the taller student, knocking him over into the sand. She then began squeezing his sides in rapid succession, avoiding his attempts to dislodge her hands quite easily.

“W-Wahahahahait! Chihihiaki!” Nagito squealed, trying to protect his sensitive sides from her merciless wrath.

“I warned you.” She deadpanned.

“Usami, Do you think we should be worried about these students?” Nekomaru asked over Nagito’s laughter.

“I don’t think so, I think we should welcome them with open arms! Who knows what horrors they’ve seen? We should treat them with kindness and love!” She answered.

“Then that’s good enough for me!” Neko grinned.

“Yes, I think It will be nice to make some new friends!” Sonia beamed, her eyes glittering happily.

“And who knows? Maybe there’ll be some cute girls In the class…” Teruteru said slyly.

“If you make any unsavory advancements towards the new mortals, I will put a curse so vile on you that even your future spawn will be cursed!” Gundham threatened, making Teruteru immediately shut up and shrink back with fear.

“I guess It doesn’t hurt to have some new friends…” Kazuichi reluctantly agreed with Sonia, no one was surprised.

“Ibuki thinks It’s a great idea! Maybe Ibuki will meet a musician to rock out with!” Ibuki’s eyes became starry at the prospect.

“Hey guys…?” Hajime spoke up hesitantly.

“Maybe there’ll be a gamer I can play with…” Chiaki smiled, still mercilessly tickling Nagito. “Or y’know… A therapist for Nagito…”

“Whyhyhy would a-ahahaha therapist wahahahaste their tihihime on sohohomeone lihihike mehehe?” Nagito laughed.

Chiaki narrowed her eyes at the Lucky student, attacking his belly with clawed hands. “You’re just asking for It, Aren’t you? Do you enjoy being tickled, Nagi?”

“NOHOHOHO!” he squealed, trying to curl In on himself.

“M-Maybe I-It won’t be s-so bad.” Mikan said hopefully. “I’m sure they a-are nice!”

Mahiru glared at Hiyoko, sensing she was about to say something unpleasant, The blonde girl immediately shut her mouth and snuggled more into Mahiru.

“Perhaps there will be someone who is knowledgeable with swords…” Wow, even Peko seemed enthusiastic about this-- well, as enthusiastic as Peko can be.

“Ooh! Maybe there’s someone strong I can fight with!” Akane’s face lit up excitedly.

“Guys? Aren’t you the least bit worried? What If they’re just like Monokuma said…?” Hajime asked.

“What’s to be worried about? If they step outta line, We can just beat ‘em up.” Akane grinned.

“We are NOT going to beat them up!” Nekomaru argued. “There are other ways of dealing with violent students than fighting!”

Akane put her hands on her hips and looked questioningly at Neko. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

Nekomaru glanced at Kazuichi and Gundham, who both seemed to blush at his gaze. “Things…” was his vague answer.

“I’m with Hajime on this one.” Fuyuhiko spoke up, standing up. “The thought of people we can’t trust coming on to the island makes me… kind of nervous.” he admitted.

Mahiru nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I agree too.”

“I’m kind of indifferent.” Hiyoko shrugged. “Maybe they won’t be as lame as you guys… but on the other hand, I don’t want Mahiru to be afraid.”

“I-I told you I’m not afraid!” The tsundere girl stuttered.

“It’ll be okay, guys.” Chiaki said softly, her tone contradicting her ruthless tickling. “As long as we stick together, We’ll be fine.”

“YEHEHEHEAH! WHAHAT SHE SAHAHAHAID!” Nagito cackled as she squeezed his hips. “YOUHUHU GUYS ARE ULTIMAHAHATES, THERE’S NOHOHOHOTHING YOU CAHAHAN’T HANDLE!”

“You’re an Ultimate too.” Chiaki reminded, pausing her ticklish attack. “And you’re valuable. Not trash.”

Nagito giggled tiredly as he caught his breath. “But compared to you guys… I’m not all that special…”

“Neko, He still hasn’t learned.” Chiaki called over her shoulder. Nekomaru sat down next to them and cracked his knuckles.

“I got this!” He chuckled, The next moment the air was filled with Nagito’s shrieking laughter as Chiaki and Neko proceeded to destroy the man with low self esteem.

Hajime was silent as he thought about the possibilities, It just wasn’t sitting right with him. But If Chiaki could look on the bright side… Maybe he was overreacting…?

He felt a hand rest on his back, looking to his left he saw Fuyu offer a brief reassuring smile, showing that he was just as nervous as Hajime but more worried about comforting him. Hajime faintly smiled back and put his arm around Fuyu’s shoulders, pulling the Yakuza into his side.

Mahiru gently punched Hajime’s shoulder affectionately. “It’ll be okay… We just gotta stick together like Chiaki said…”

Hajime sincerely hoped she was right about this…

#Danganronpa tickle #sdr2 tickle #goodbye despair tickle #tickle story #Lee!Gundham #Lee!Kazuichi #Lee!Nagito #Ler!Nekomaru #Ler!Chiaki #chiaki is still a scary ler #but Neko is ruthless--#okay but Fuyuhiko and Hajime and Mahiru being bros at the end #they're so pure #Yes this Is going to have Kuzuhina In It bc I can't stop myself--#oh well #Chiaki Is the friend who tells you she's gonna slap you if you don't stop being so hard on yourself #except she tickles instead of slaps #I totally made a victorious reference with the timeout bit--#i'm not sorry

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dancingazaleas · 3 years

Note

Can you write a modern au Historia Reiss x fem!reader imagine where the reader is in a band and has a very punk rock style, and Historias the popular cheerleader everybody drools over, and they hate each other but at a party some girl is flirting with the reader so historia takes her and fucks the reader silly in a bathroom and after confesses her feelings to r?

historia reiss | promise

ofc!!! pls i literally love cheerleader!historia. i hope this is good enough <33 !!

18+ pls ! [unedited]

warnings/notes: cursing, use of alcohol and drugs, eventual smut, jealous dom!historia, modern au!, college au!, cheerleader!historia, bathroom sex, degradation, slight praise, enemies to lovers supremacy, fem reader!, finger fucking, hints at pegging, and aftercare

you’re pissed, so pissed that you’re seeing white. you only know that you’re sitting under the bleachers of your college campus and that your best friend, annie, is sitting beside you.

historia reiss, the popular cheerleader adored by everyone, decided it would funny if she pulled a prank on you. the prank being drenched in ice water and then pouring pink glitter on your body from the second floor of campus.

the glitter stuck everywhere, even in your mouth. before you scrubbed some of it off, you looked like a bath bomb. the water made it stickier and made you cold.

you don’t know what kind of vendetta historia has against you, you’ve only just met her two years ago! you hadn’t even really talked her up until your freshman year of college. even then, you don’t think you had said anything rude or wrong.

you just assume she gets pleasure out of your suffering.

you’re ranting about historia to annie, who witnessed the whole incident, still covered head-to-toe in glitter. she’s smoking a cigarette and listening to you absentmindedly, a sign that she’s getting slightly annoyed. she grabs your jaw with her hand and turns your face towards her. she’s taking in a breath and you know exactly what she’s about to do.

when she pulls the cigarette away, she blows the smoke into your face and let’s go of your jaw.

“thanks for that,” you grunt, the smell always seems to calm you down for some odd reason.

“y’know, instead of ranting, you could go home and take a shower,” she looks sleepy as she holds onto her cigarette.

“i know. but she’s just so frustrating! wanna know what makes her even more frustrating?!”

annie decides to play along, she thinks you ranting is funny, “what?”

“she’s hot. scratch that, she’s literally gorgeous. she looks like a fucking goddess and has the personality of a witch,” you shout angrily, following annie’s movements of getting up and walking towards your dorm.

“i dunno,” she snickers, “she’s pretty nice to me.”

“yeah, cause she’s got some sort of vendetta against me. i swear—i have never done a single thing to her!! do you remember when she bashed our band?! does she even listen to punk?!”

annie’s made a mistake in encouraging you, “anyways. speaking of our band, don’t forget we’re playing tonight at eren’s house.”

“you mean at his frat house,” you snort, bumping your shoulder into her’s. you immediately regret it when you pull away and see pink glitter stick to her shirt and a shiver going down her spine.

“yeah, whatever. thank god he’s loaded enough to pay for a band. i can’t believe his dad just gives him and zeke cash,” annie coughs while she chuckles, smoke puffing out of her nose.

you’re laughing at her coughing, slapping her firmly on the back as you walk.

you don’t notice large blue eyes staring at you from far away.

————

you’re trying to ignore the idiotic comments annie’s making while mikasa does your eyeliner.

you, mikasa, annie, and—surprisngly—jean are getting ready for your show tonight.

originally, it had just been you, annie, and mikasa until mikasa and jean had started dating. she vouched that he could play the drums—and he definelty could. he also gets along surprisingly well with you and annie.

mikasa usually sings back-up for you—despite your begging for her to be the lead—and plays the electric keyboard.

annie’s on bass guitar. she gets stupidly smug everytime she’s done playing and the praise she gets from her girlfriend doesn’t help. annie also writes most of your songs.

“guys, we should make a bet,” annie’s twirling some of her hair, eyeing you and mikasa.

“what’s the bet,” jean smirks and raises a bushy brow. mikasa and you give a hum of approval.

“i bet that one girl is gonna be all over (name) tonight,” you snort sarcastically.

“elizabeth? i think she’s trying to seduce me so i’ll partner up with her for this project we have coming up in our music history class,” mikasa’s pullled away, screwing the cap of the eyeliner back onto the bottle. she hands you coal black lipstick.

“you know what i bet,” jean starts, you know it isn’t gonna be good, “historia’s gonna be eyefucking (name) all night.”

you’re in the middle of applying lipstick but you stop at his statement.

“no, before you say something, jean’s gotta point,” mikasa muses, fanning her hand.

“yeah. dunno how you didn’t noticed,” annie shrugs, hopping out of her chair and stretching her arms upwards.

you’re irritated and finished with your lipstick, eyebrows furrowed bitterly.

“anyways,” you grit your teeth, “it’s showtime.”

————

it’s been five minutes since you and the band performed, and after all that belting you just want a drink. you’re walking through the messy and huge kitchen, trying to avoid stepping on spilled shots and egg yolk—who knows—because these boots were expensive.

luckily, most people are partying like a mob in the main room of the smelly frat house. it smells like weed, everywhere. and when you open the fridge you see a long platter of chocolate brownies, is eren alright? you shrug internally, snatching a water bottle that’s sitting on the top shelf.

after you’ve closed the fridge door and opened it, you’re chugging the water bottle like your life depends on it. when you pull away, you try to not notice the lipstick stain and that you’ve drank the bottle more than halfway. you’re leaning on the island in the middle of the kitchen, you don’t plan on partying too much since you’re supposed to be the designated driver for annie, mikasa, and jean.

you’re about to take another swig of your water, eyes staring down at your phone and continuing to read a article. before you can bring the bottle to your lips, teasing laughter from your front is distracting you.

it’s historia, wearing a baby blue v-neck tank top that ends at her ribs. she has a white skirt on, pulled up to the middle of her bellybutton and stopping at her upper thighs. her shoes are white and chunky with sparkly blue butterflies on the sides of them. her makeup’s cute, a light blue sprinkling on the outside corners of her eyes that tickled her cheekbones, a light and natural (for her at least) pink lipstick on her lips coated with shiny gloss. she’s pretty.

“fuck do you want,” you frown with narrowed eyes, you’re praying there aren’t anymore tricks.

“nothing, nothing!,” she’s got a cheery smile on her face, “just wanted to see how you were doing! i cant even do that?”

rolling your eyes, you scoff, “not after you drenched me in ice cold water and then poured glitter on me. it took me two hours to get rid of the glitter in the shower.”

she’s opening her mouth, but you’re already done with her shit, “fuck off, dude.”

you’re stomping out of the kitchen, huffing with frustration. what the fuck was historia trying to play at? she’s such a cunt, pulling these mean pranks on you with no provocation and then coming up to you after and asking how you are?

you’re seething. you’re so angry you’re not even paying attention to where you’re going.

but it’s interrupted when you bump into someone’s back. lower... back.

said person, turns around and looks down at you. she’s tall, and you’ve seen her around campus with eren and zeke. she’s quiet and cunning, you’ve heard rumors that she gets paid to beat people up sometimes. you can’t really judge her, money’s money.

but she’s also gorgeous. glowing gold eyes and choppy blonde hair. she’s wearing a loose black blazer that closes at her sternum and down, with nothing underneath. she’s got some kind of necklace—you think it says ‘p’ or ‘z’—and pretty silver rings on her fingers. her heels make her tower over you more than she probably would without them on.

“shit, my bad,” you sigh and look away.

she shakes her head, the tiniest smile painting her face and her cheeks turn a little red.

“you’re alright,” she hums, “i don’t think i’ve met you. i’ve definitely seen you around, but no one’s ever given me a name.”

“oh, i’m (name),” you smile shyly, “i don’t know your name either.”

she chuckles a bit, somehow wrapping her hand in your’s and leading you to a nice loveseat. her nails are painted black and you feel inclined to put your legs over her lap.

“i’m surprised,” and that’s when you notice zeke and pieck on the couch next to you, “there are a lot of rumors about me. however, i guess whoever told you—or didn’t—left me anonymous. i’m yelena.”

you give a laugh, watching her throw her arm up onto the top of the couch. you’re cuddling her side within seconds, drawing a deep chuckle from her. her other hand reaches to your cheek, making you look up at her. she’s holding your chin with her thumb and staring at you with her hypnotizing eyes.

“you’re just the cutest,” she mumbles, letting go of your face and tapping your nose.

you’re getting embarrassed at the attention, and you don’t know what to say other than ‘thank you’. you’ve never been pussy whipped a day in your entire life, but you think you might change that.

she’s leaning in closer, ignoring the couple, who was staring at you two with amusement, that sat on the couch cuddling. you feel like you recognize them for a moment, but the thought it forgotten whenever yelena kisses you fervently.

she’s running her tongue across your lip and the shiver that goes down your spine makes you realize she has a tongue piercing. she’s pushing you down to lay on the couch, to which you happily oblige, her hand crawling up to your neck.

before you can even let her shove her tongue in your mouth and choke you, your hand is being tugged and all of a sudden your upper torso and body is on the floor and your head is aching. you’re dazedly looking at yelena, who’s just as surprised as you are, then turning to the couple on the couch.

holy fucking hell, how did you not realize that the couple was pieck and zeke. that isn’t even your main focus when another tug to your wrist pulls your lower half off the couch.

“what the fuck?!” you’re suddenly not dazed anymore, “let go of me!”

you’re snatching your arm away and scrambling to your feet, tugging down your short dress that rode up. you turn around to face the assaulter, only to look down and see historia.

historia grabbed you?!

before you can even scream or slap her, she’s, once again, pulling you away by your wrist. for such a small girl, she’s got a tight grip.

you’re stumbling as you follow her, not like you couldn’t, yelling profanities. you pass by annie, who spits out her drink at the sight of you, it startles her girlfriend, hitch. you mouth a ‘help!’ towards her just as you’re swung forward.

it takes you a second to balance yourself out, and before you can turn yourself around, you’re being shoved forward.

what the fuck is her deal?!

you’re pushed into a bathroom, finally turning around to see historia as you fall on your ass. she’s slammed the door closed and locked it, staring at you on the ground.

“the fuck is your damage,” you scream, leaning against the bathroom counter.

“you’re a fucking slut, that’s what!” she’s yelling back, now standing in front of you. her hands are trapping you against the counter, and you’re looking down at her.

“you’re a dirty little slut. you can’t help but get down with a woman when i’m not with you for five fucking minutes,” you can’t even open your mouth and opted to push yourself towards the counter more as you squeeze your thighs together.

“look at you,” she’s laughing mockingly, “you look like a dog in heat. are you enjoying this, you fucking whore?”

you whimper, shaking your head side-to-side.

“you’re a liar,” she’s laughing again, standing on her tip toes to brush her lips against your’s.

“i’m not.”

“if you’re not, go ahead and push me away then,” she smirks, leaning closer.

you look away, listening to the mocking giggle that she was releasing right in your face. her left hand is grabbing you by the jaw and forcing you to look at her.

“can i kiss you,” her look softens and you nod at her.

“yes,” and within a second, her lips are on your’s. the kiss is surprisingly gentle and sweet.

with a bit on your lip, her tongue is rubbing against your’s and her hands sliding under the thin straps of your dress. you’re whining when she pulls away and laughs. your dress is halfway down your body, chest jumping up and down as you pant from the lack of breath.

“look at you, baby,” she turns your head to the side, which gives you a profile view of yourself in the mirror. your lipstick’s smudged in the corner of your mouth, eyeliner’s smuged as well as your eyeshadow.

weak product.

“you need better makeup,” she’s giggling as she leans her head towards your neck.

she’s kissing and sucking almost everywhere on your neck and chest, as if she were marking her property. moans are bouncing off the walls as her hands release your boobs from the strapless bra you’re wearing and sucking on your nipples. honestly, you’re glad it’s off. it’s been tiring having to pull it up everytime it slipped even just a bit.

you tug at her blonde hair when her small hand gropes one tit and her mouth bites at the other. she’s tugging the rest of your dress down with her free hand, and it pools around your boots. she goes back up to kiss your lips, laughing in your mouth as you struggle to kick off your boots. she’s kissing at your cheek and ear, tugging at the waistline of your fishnet tights.

“might wanna take these off too if you don’t want them ripped,” yelping when she bites at your earlobe.

“i...,” you’re catching your breath, “need help.”

she giggles while nodding, helping you shimmying the tights down to your knees.

“jump up on the counter, babe. it’ll make it easier for me,” you’re obident and jumping on the cool bathroom counter, it makes you shiver.

historia’s on her knees, shoes kicked off, and her fingers tickle your legs when she’s sliding the tights off your legs. she’s got a sultry look on her face when she throws said tights over her shoulder, palming your kneecaps. she bites back her smirk when she pulls your knees apart, showing off your black panties. you fall back against the mirror and you lean mostly on your elbows, ignoring the loud bang that came from it.

her mouth’s leaving open mouthed kisses against your inner thighs, pants leaving your mouth. her fingers hook around the waistband of your panties, tugging them down quickly whenever you lift your hips.

your going to close your legs, but her hands prevent you from doing so. her eyes are glued to your pussy, lips spread open and your wetness shining in the light. you’ve got a little hair on your pubis, but that isn’t going to stop historia reiss from changing her name to sasha braus.

she’s sucking at your clit and spreading your legs apart as far as she can. she pulls away from your pussy just for a second.

“keep your legs open,” she says, a thumb rubbing circles into your clit.

it’s lazy and it’s satisfying, but it’s not enough to make you cum. she knows that.

you’re letting out high pitched moans and fingers tangled in her golden locks as she eats you out like a man starved.

‘i wish i had realized that i’m gay sooner,’ you think as historia slowly slides her middle finger inside of you.

you’re throwing your head back against the mirror when she suddenly adds a second finger, claiming that you could take it since you’re a slut.

considering your wetness is dripping down your ass and onto the counter, you can’t really object the statement.

she’s curling her fingers inside you, mouth closed around your clit. your moans go up an octave when she finds the spongy part inside of you, thrusting her fingers in and out of you after she angles her digits.

“fuck!” you moan and start clawing at historia’s free arm, which is holding down your hips.

“h-historia...,” you pant, “gonna cum... pl..please let me cum.”

her laughter sends vibrations across your clit, and that’s what sends you over the edge. you’re crying out as historia helps you ride out your orgasm by slowing her fingers down and pulling away from your clit. historia’s admiring you while she wipes off your juices from her chin, a small smile adorning her lips.

your head is thrown back against the mirror—once again. eyes rolled back and mouth opened in a silent moan. the hand that was gripping at her arm is clenched in a fist that has your knuckles painted white. your toes are curled and your back is arching in the air.

she doesn’t pull her fingers out of you until your calm, letting you catch your breath before she does it all over again.

———

your legs are trembling as she helps you sit down on the toilet.

you know you look like a mess—historia’s been forcing you to watch yourself. the eyeliner and mascara you have on is now smeared and ran down your face since you cried. your lipstick is smeared up and down, worse than last time, and your hair is messed up and tangled from historia pulling on it.

historia’s squatting before you, looking for a rag to wet down and clean you up with.

“next cabinet over,” you breath, throwing your head back.

“you know who’s bathroom this is?”

“yeah, jean’s in this frat too. him and marco share it. this place is pretty nice when there isn’t a party going on,” you giggle, somehow this whole situation seems funny to you.

she’s running hot water over the rag she now has, staring at herself in the mirror. historia’s got hickeys on her neck too and teeth marks on shoulders. she’s got glittery blue on her cheek, must be her mascara.

she turns off the water and wrings it out. she walks over to you, nudging your legs open with her knee. you comply and absentmindedly reach for one of her hands to hold. she takes the offer, squatting in front of you and cleaning up the slightly dried cum and juices on your thighs and vagina.

you shiver and let out little whines and whimpers, still sensitive from the previous orgasms. historia was also still wearing something. something that you didn’t even know she had.

a fucking 6 inch strap on.

“by the way,” you start, “how’d you get your strap-on here?”

“i came to the house before eren started throwing the party. i brought a bag with me and just hid it in the empty cabinet. i think eren wanted to hook up with me and mentioned something about pegging. brought it in case,” she explains, small smile spreading across her face as she starts cleaning your face.

you start giggling again, the hand that wasn’t holding her hand weakly grabbing at her wrist.

“hisu... can i get a kiss,” you pucker your lips when she pulls away the rag from you. she flips the rag to a clean slide, rubbing herself in the same areas as she did for you.

historia holds your cheek and gives you the sweetest kiss you’ve ever had.

“i’m gonna take you back to mine and ymir’s place. you’re still in sub-space and you wobble instead of walk,” she says, squatting down again to help you get your panties on.

she’s able to get your dress on the lower half of your body, but you both realize there’s a fucking cum stain on the chest. historia gives you a jacket that was in her bag, zipping it halfway. the dress stayed sitting at your waist, you’re to tired to get it open even if you have a cover up.

she’s done cleaning everything up within ten minutes, including herself. she throws the rag in a hamper in the bathroom closet that had jean’s name written on it in sharpie.

she’s slipping the bag on her shoulder and helping you walk with the other one. when you walk out, ymir is leaning on the wall by the door with a smirk.

ymir squats down a bit, laughing at your shaky legs every time you took a step. historia and her manage to get you on ymir’s back. you fall asleep before you three can get to the car.

———

when you wake up, your whole lower body is sore. your eyelids feel heavy as you open them, coming to your senses. you recognize ‘dance moms’ playing in the background and historia eating cereal as she watches.

you groan lowly, and historia finally notices your consciousness.

“so...,” you yawn while you stretch your arms up into the air, “talk about last night?”

historia nods while she chews, “so basically, i was jealous that you were hooking up with another girl that wasn’t me.”

“but why would you be jealous...? i thought you hated me,” you rub your cheek against the pillow you’re laying your head on.

historia blushes as she looks away with a pout, “i never hated you... i just... i didn’t like the feelings i have for you.”

“oh,” you lay on your back and ignore the heat rushing to your cheeks, “what are.... the feelings..?”

“i may or may not love you,” she hides her face by holding her bowl full of cereal to her chin.

you don’t say anything for a few moments, trying to think of what you wanted to say.

“i... i love you too. but, that doesn’t just mean i forgive and forget all the horrible shit you’ve done to me. i’ll start dating you when i feel that you’ve... ‘atoned’ for your sins,” you sigh, “it’s gonna take some time but if you want this to work or even start, you’ve gotta make it up to me and understand where i’m coming from.”

she looks at you with slight excitement, “i... of course! i was really mean to you and you didn’t deserve that, no matter how much i disliked you. i promise to make it up to you.”

she’s holding her pinky finger up to you.

you smile and link your pinkies with her’s, “promise.”

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #historia reiss #historia x reader #anime

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maeve-writes · 3 years

Text

The Significance of Fair Food

Pairings: Human!Castiel x Reader

Rating: General

Warnings: Fluff, bad decisions.

Summary: You talk the boys into making a stop during your travels and you show Castiel the joys of being human.

a/n: This was written for a SPN challenge years ago.

My three categories were: Fair, snow cone, getting sunburnt.

This is unbeta'd, please forgive any mistakes. This is also my first time writing Castiel, so forgive me if it’s a little... off.

Formally posted on the account @plaided-ani

When you asked the boy to make a pit stop, the last thing they expected was to end up pulling into a fairgrounds parking lot. The world was ending, again, you had demons and angels and everything in between after the four of you, but damned if it didn’t seem like a good idea. “Dude,” Dean reasoned with his brother, slapping him on his arm, “fair food.”

“Yes,” you chirped, popping your head between them from the backseat. You wrapped your hands around Sam’s shoulders, fingers digging into the tense muscle and you shook him like a maraca. “Yes!”

“What’s the significance of fair food,” Castiel inquired beside you, curious eyes watching Sam’s head snap to and fro from your jarring.

You rounded on him immediately, releasing Sam before you slid into the former angel’s personal space, slinging your arm around his shoulders. “Castiel,” your voice was quiet, intimate, “fair food is the most delicious nourishment that humans have to offer.” You reached up and ran a hand down his cheek and forced him to look you in the eye, “And all of it’s fried.”

He stared at you unblinkingly, puffy lips slightly parted in confusion. You were a hair’s length apart, close enough to be sharing the same lungs, and he nodded once causing his nose brush against yours.

“If you two are done making out,” Dean cleared his throat, arm perched over the back of his seat to glare at you. “I want a corndog.”

You immediately released Cas and then turned to scramble out of the car. You joined up with Dean, hooking your arm around his and the pair of you charged the fair’s main gate, Sam and Castiel trailing behind you.

The sun was out in full force and what little clouds floating in the sky provided no comfort from it’s heated rays. You turned your head up, eyes closed to bask in the warm as you four waited in line for the first vendor that Dean deemed acceptable.

“Fried butter,” Castiel droned behind you, “that doesn’t sound very healthy.”

“It doesn’t have to be healthy, Cas,” Dean replied, pulling you forward as the queue moved, “it’s fair food.”

Sam huffed in annoyance and shook his head, “That’s not an excuse to clog your arteries.”

“Yes, it is,” you and Dean replied simultaneously.

You righted your head and turned to glare up at the youngest Winchester, but you caught sight of Castiel clutching at his chest, his fingers clenching around the soft white shirt that Dean leant him. “Your heart’s gonna be fine, Cas,” you assure him, stumbling along as Dean pulled you forward yet again. “It takes years of eating bad crap to clog you up. If anyone is gonna die of a heart attack, it’s Dean!”

“And I would have no regrets,” came the proud sniff beside you.

“You two are idiots,” Sam sighed.

You opened your mouth to retort, but Dean yanked you one final time and you spun to order the biggest funnel cake they allotted, double sugar and strawberries on top. Dean, of course, got his three corndogs, Sam opted for cup-o-salad, but Cas was at a loss. “He’ll have a corn dog and fries,” you decided.

Dean stayed back to wait for the order and Sam lead the way to find a semi-clean table nearby. “I’ll admit, Y/N,” Cas confided in you, eyes darting to Sam’s back cautiously, “that this fair food does smell delicious.”

“Oh, Cas,” you cooed, once again slinging your arm around his arm and placed your head on his shoulder, “you’re in for a treat.” You take one side with Castiel, Sam opting to sit across from you. The sounds of the crowd washed over you as you baked in the afternoon sun, the shrills from fast rides and rigged games were the soundtrack of your best idea yet.

“Alright, heart attacks on a plate,” Dean cackled gleefully as he sat the tray down in the middle. He passed Castiel his basket and you snatched up your funnel cake with a loud smack of your lips. “You’re gonna give me some of that, Y/N, right?”

Your face twisted in aggression, your body curling around your plate as you claimed your territory. “Absolutely not,” you snarled. Cas shifted uneasily beside you which snapped you out of your daze, “But you can have some, Castiel.” Blue eyes met yours and his brow pinched with uncertainty.

“Oh, so you’ll give some to Cas and not me,” Dean growled, corndog shoved in his mouth and mustard dribbled down his chin.

“Yes,” you answered simply, cutting of a nice, big piece coated with the most sugar and biggest strawberry and held it up for Castiel to eat. The former angel frowned at you and looked to Dean before opening his mouth wide to let you choo-choo it in.

He chewed it slowly, considering its taste. Sugar outlined his mouth and a drip of syrup rested in the very center of his bottom lip. Without thinking, you swiped you thumb across it, shoving it into your mouth to lick off the excess. His eyes went wide, watching the finger disappear between your own sugared lips. “This is very good,” he said hoarsely when he finally managed to swallow.

You wiggled your eyebrows in victory and pointed to his meal, “Clog those arteries, Cas.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent queuing in lines, you and Dean hogging the cotton candy. You did share a bit with Castiel for educational purposes, but most of it was shoved shamelessly into your mouth.

“You two are going to throw up,” Sam grimaced as you headed closer to the Tilt-a-Whirl.

“That’s the fun of fairs,” you replied cheerfully, nudging Cas to make a mental note of it. “You stuff yourself full of bad food and then you get on all the rides so you can throw it up later!”

Cas shook his head, “That doesn’t sound like fun at all.”

“It is,” Dean winked, “you’ll love it.” Sam contradicted his brother with a silent shake of his head, but you were all ushered into your seats before the older brother could argue. And when the ride was over, you were hugging your stomach, looking a little paler and Dean shuffled slowly beside you.

“I told y-” Sam started but heated glares from the both of you had him holding his hands up and laughing.

Despite your aching stomachs, you and Dean drag the other two on the Teacups, the Falling Tower, even in the Haunted House. It was the Tunnel of Love that caught your eye, though, and not because you had anything romantic in mind, but it was a slow, easy ride that hid you from the harsh afternoon sun.

The boys fought over who would actually sit with you because it was the Tunnel of Love, after all, and you can’t go in with your brother without people raising eyebrows and they sure as hell didn’t want to ‘fall in love with Cas’. “You’re all idiots,” you exclaimed and pulled Cas into the small swan shaped boat.

“This ride doesn’t actually make humans fall in love, does it,” he asked you hesitantly.

You leaned back against the hard wooden frame, head tilted back as the tunnel’s cool air breezed over your sun kissed skin, “No, Cas. It’s an excuse for teenagers to make out in, though. Or older people to make out like teenagers.” There’s a deep rumble of thoughtfulness next you and you can feel Cas’s eyes on you. “You wanna make out with me,” you asked with one eye cracked open.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “That means kissing, right?”

“Yes,” you snorted.

His brow wrinkled and he nodded, “Yes.”

“Yes,” you repeated, surprised. You sat up and tilted your head, a smile split your face in two.

“Yes,” Cas said for the second time, “I’ve thought about kissing you before. I’ve watched you with the men that you’ve taken home from bars and…”

You held up a hand and blinked, “What do you mean you’ve watched me?”

“I was afraid that they might hurt you, so I kept watch,” Castiel explained, noting your sudden discomfort of the conversation. “I stopped watching when you… you know.”

“I am so glad you’re human now,” you groaned, bringing up your legs in the open bench seat and hid your face away. You felt a hand atop your knee and a gentle squeeze in timid comfort. “If you ever get your grace back, dude, please don’t ever watch me again,” you pleaded once you lifted your head.

Cas nodded, those deep blue eyes full of regret and understanding, “I promise.”

The ride finished without a makeout session, but you had forgiven Cas by the time you caught up with Sam and Dean. The sun was getting low and the fair’s lights slowly started to flicker on, the Ferris Wheel drawing everyone’s attention. “Last ride,” Sam warned you, so you tugged them along, waiting in the longest queue of the day.

“Snow Cones,” Dean whispered, pushing at your shoulder. “Wait here,” he instructed his brother and friend before dragging you over to the stand. While the ice did sound like a good idea in the warm summer evening, more sugar was going to make your veins explode.

“I dunno, Dean,” you patted your belly, “I don’t know if I can fit anymore.”

“Don’t be a wuss,” he egged you on and shoved you up to the counter. You order a small one, rainbow all the way and kicked Dean in the shin when you got your purchase and ran off to the safety of your friends.

“More sugar,” you told Cas, holding up the shaved ice settled in a paper cup. “Sweets for a sweetie,” you offer it to him, “just bite.” He looked from you to the colored ball of frost and scraped his teeth along to gather some with an approving hum. Dean soon joined you, tagging you on the back of your head when he returned and nearly had you spilling your treat. “Watch it!”

Cas frowned in disapproval at Dean, but the oldest Winchester smirked smugly and bite down hard on his snow. “For as much sugar as you consume, Dean, you can be sour,” he reprimanded, patting your shoulder and taking yet another bite of your snow cone.

“Are you really white knighting, Y/N, right now,” Dean snorted, the tip of his nose dyed blue from his flavoring.

“If that means I’m defending her, then yes,” Cas replied, his eyes, like yours and Sam’s, trained on the small spot of blue. “Dean,” he started, but you wrap a hand around his wrist and squeeze. How the three of you are holding a straight face, you’ll never know.

“What,” came the gruff reply accompanied by a frown.

“Nothing,” Cas replied casually, tearing his eyes away from his friend and back to you and the Snow Cone. You return the stare, both of you leaning in to take a bite and you tried not to choke on the flavored ice.

“What,” Dean asked pressingly.

“Line’s moved up,” Sam answered, pulling his brother along.

Dean eyed you all suspiciously, but he moved along with everyone else, digging back into his ice and coming out with an even bigger spot of blue. Sam’s jaw is clenched so hard you could hear his teeth starting to crack and you’re sure you’ve snorted some of your ice in an attempt to stop your laughter. But Castiel? He was standing there, smiling at the three of you, suddenly understanding what the significance of fair food was.

“Dammit,” Dean groaned the next day, waddling in from the bathroom, “Y/N!” Castiel looked up from the newspaper and tilted his head, his eyes shifting from Dean to you splayed out of the bed in nothing more than a thin cami and cotton shorts, looking just as uncomfortable as Dean with your cherry red skin.

“Shut up,” you spat, not able to move from your bed. It wasn’t fair, not really. All four of you were out in the sun all day and only you and Dean managed to get burned, even through all of your layers. “Your voice makes my skin hurt.”

“Your face makes my skin hurt,” Dan shot back, slowly climbing onto the bed next to you. The pair of you weakly slapped at each other from your prone positions and you felt the bed dip behind you.

“Sam said this might happen,” Castiel stated as he flipped open a cap of aloe. “He said I would need to rub this into your skin.”

Dean jerked his head up and immediately winced from the pain, “You’re not rubbing anything on me.”

“Shut up and enjoy it, jerk,” you hissed and twisted your head as much as you could to look at Castiel. “Rub it all over me, Cas, as deep as you can.”

The former angel flushed as bright as the pair of you, but set to work.

#castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel x y/n #human!castiel #formally posted on @plaided-ani

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smol-and-grumpy · 4 years

Text

Golden Cage - Chapter.03

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She’s a spoiled little princess — at least that’s what people say. Her father is the King of all Kings, the man who everyone fears. Then, along comes Dean Winchester, the one guy who manages to see into her soul, but — — is Dean really who he says he is?

Chapter Warnings: Fluff, angst, violence, teasing, I dunno, those chapters area always packed with everything, man.

WC: 5942

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

“Adam,” She says and Dean’s body goes rigid instantly. Everything he felt before — the warmth that crept up his spine turns ice cold. He frowns at her and takes a step back while he shakes his head.

Did he hear it right or did his ears and mind play tricks on him? He can’t tell, because he can’t sort the thoughts that are flying around in his head.

Adam?

What’s with Adam?

Who the fuck is Adam?

“What?” Dean hisses out and he’s irritated, how can he not fucking be? He paces around, for fucking good measure. A fucking perfect moment, fucking destroyed. Princess has a way with timing, doesn’t she?

“I’m sorry, it’s just— Adam,”

There it is again, the name. The fucking stupid name of another man. He’s not jealous. At least he thinks he isn’t. At least he shouldn’t fucking be. But the name rubs him the wrong way, he can’t fucking lie about that.

Y/N’s about to say something more, but Dean interrupts her with a snort, “I don’t know what’s your turn on, princess, but calling another man’s name while I’m kissing you is not really my thing,”

He tries to play it cool, doesn’t let on that it fucking bothers him.

“No, no!” She sighs and exhales audibly.

There’s also a frustrating sound coming out of her throat that almost makes him chuckle and above all, fucking weak. He tries to stay firm, though.

“What is it?” He asks, with visible irritation on his face. He can feel the creasing of his forehead.

“Adam is—” She says and pauses to let out another audible sigh, “Adam was— He was a soldier of my dad’s. He was a good guy.”

Dean frowns some more. He has no fucking idea where she wants to go with this. Adam was a good guy, so what? Does that make it okay to say the other man’s name?

“God, I’m all over the place,” She groans.

Dean doesn’t say anything, just looks at her with one raised eyebrow. Yeah, because she fucking is. What’s the point of mentioning some other dude?

She clears her throat, “Okay, right. I’ll start again,” She looks at him, her eyes meeting his, and Dean has the feeling that he needs to listen to it, even if he doesn’t necessarily want to.

“Please, be my guest,”

“All I want to say is that I had a fling with Adam and, and, and… Well, he took my virginity, and you wanna know what happened?” She gestures with her hands and paces around the room. Now she’s the irritated one. It would be cute if he wasn’t so damn confused.

He can’t say anything but stare at her with a fucking frown etched so deep it seems like it takes over all of his fucking face, “No? I mean, I’m not really into knowing what happened when he took your virginity, to be perfectly honest with you?”

“Not that!” She gestures with her hand and groans, “God!”

“Then what? I mean, am I jealous? Yeah, maybe? But you don’t need to rub it in?”

Well, he doesn’t know why he admitted it. Damn fucking Adam, seriously?

“Fuck’s sake, Dean! Dad found out and fucking castrated him! He’s still alive, but he moved away to god knows where! Because that’s the thing that happens when someone comes too close to me!”

Dean needs a moment to let her words sink in. And then he can’t control himself anymore. There’s a burst of loud laughter, it rumbles in his chest and he tries to hold it in by clasping his hand over his mouth. Dean feels a rush of contentment, feels fucking relief.

Y/N stops her pacing and stands akimbo while she stares him down. She watches until he finally composes himself and Dean has to brush away at one single tear that rolls down his cheek from the corner of his eye.

He strolls over to her after, his hands taking hers away from her hips to raise them both to his face, places careful soft kisses on her knuckles.

“Aren’t you afraid of what could happen to you if he found out?” Her voice is whiny. It’s adorable, really.

He brushes a hand over her face, his knuckles skimming over her cheek. Dean bends down to kiss her gently, leaves his lips on hers for a little too long and not long enough, because he knows that he has to leave, at least for tonight. He breaks the kiss and leaves his forehead on hers while he rests his hand on the back of her neck, “Princess, I told you before and I’m telling you again. I fucking love taking risks.”

I fucking love taking risks.

She still hears his whisper, his voice was deep and soothing.

Is Dean for real? He loves taking risks? He’s absolutely kidding, right? The risks he’s taking right after he kissed her last night is of disastrous magnitude. He could get fucking killed but he does not fucking care! It blows her mind!

Dean went away right after the lingering kiss that left her all hot and bothered. She was glad that she was about to hop into the shower anyway, was glad that she could wash off the tingly feeling, used the showerhead to stimulate herself, and found release quite quickly. No wonder. After the kiss, it was quite easy because when she closed her eyes all she saw, tasted and felt, was Dean.

Y/N settled into bed after, but it was hard to find sleep, since even though she came, there’s something inside her that she couldn’t satisfy. A longing that she knew only a man could help ease. Preferably, she’d like that man to be Dean. She laid awake for some time, kind of hoping that he felt the same, hoping that he would sneak into her room in the night since his room is just down the hall, but sadly, he never did.

Maybe he changed his mind? Maybe he thought that she wasn’t worth all the risks anyway? Would she blame him if he did change his mind? Probably not.

She wakes up the next day with the tingly feeling still there and she curses Dean because how did he do that? How can he make her body want so much more with just one fucking kiss? That’s not fucking fair!

Quickly, she hops into the shower, in hopes of finding another release to ease her body. And like last night, she does. Quite quickly, too.

After getting dressed, she walks down the stairs, ready to face the day, ready to go into work but stops mid-step when she notices that Max’s already sitting on the couch just right below, reading something on his phone. Upon noticing her, he stands up and lets his phone drop into his pants pocket before straightening his suit.

“You sure like to take your time, don’t you?” There’s a rise of his eyebrows.

“I’m not needed in the restaurant today and only do inventory, so sue me for waking up later than usual. Besides, you have a phone, Max. Why didn’t you just text if you want something?”

“Eh,” Max shrugs, “Boss’ orders. He needs to speak to you.”

She rolls her eyes as she makes her way down the steps, “I have to go into work,”

“You just said you technically don’t need to be in! Don’t shoot the messenger, Y/N. He’s waiting in his office.”

Y/N groans when she makes her way to her dad’s office. She knocks three times, deliberately loud, for fucking good measure. But still, she barks in right after, not waiting for approval.

To her surprise, her dad’s in there alone, which is rare. He’s usually surrounded by his men.

He looks up from his papers when he notices her, only lifting his eyes from the papers far enough to spare her a quick glance, “Sit down, Y/N.”

She nods and settles herself into the heavy and ancient-looking chair standing across from him and his desk. The room is kept in dark wooden tones, something she doesn’t really approve of, but he wouldn’t let her remodel it, saying it represents his dark soul. She can’t agree more.

There’s another silence as he finishes reading a paragraph. He signs it and places his pen down before crossing his hand on top of the papers, his fingers intertwined.

“Why do you want to speak to me, Dad? I’m about to go to work.”

He sighs, as if he doesn’t understand why work is so important to her. Honestly, she doesn’t think he really understands her at all. Probably never has. They’re too much alike, personality-wise, but also she looks a lot like her late mother and she thinks that it pains him to even look at her. At least he gives her the impression that it does.

“I want to ask your opinion on Dean.”

Her heart starts to race. It picks up speed so fast that she thinks the thumbing can be seen on her chest. Why does he want to ask her about Dean? Does he know something? Does he know that they kissed? Where is Dean anyway? Oh god, she hopes he’s okay!

Y/N ignores the thumping of her heart, wipes out the irritation off her face, “What about Dean?”

Her dad leans back in his chair, seemingly unfazed and she breathes relief because he doesn’t catch on that her heart is pumping fucking fast, “What do you think of him? Do you think he can be trusted?”

“Yeah,” She says and tries not to squint because it comes out of her a little too fast. She tries to make a longer pause afterward, “I think he showed that he can be trusted, as he protected us yesterday.”

He clicks with his tongue, before he lets out a sigh. She hates that because she can never read him.

“Good,” He leans forward and picks his pen back up again, “I trust your words, princess.”

Princess. Dad had never called her that for ages. He used to when she was younger. That’s why other people picked on it as well. Bobby used to call her princess all the time.

He raises his eyebrows after a pause and trains his eyes on her, “He told me you pointed your gun at him?”

The color rises to her cheeks. Dammit, why did Dean have to tell dad? Just why did he think that it would be a fucking good idea?

Y/N nods her head while looking down. Like a kid who’s been caught.

“I did.”

“You never point a gun at your own people, Y/N!” He scolds.

“Yeah, well look who’s talking,” She spits back, because who is he to talk, really? She’s seen him pointing guns at people all the fucking time.

“At least I know how to handle one!” He scoffs and stops to snort, “Are you finished with your inventory?”

“No, I’m planning to go in now.”

God, she’s annoyed. But she’s trying her best not to really show it, though.

“Take a break, go get breakfast, and then you wait until Dean’s back.” Her father says.

“Why? Where is he?” She’s curious as hell, but she tries to sound nonchalant.

“Learning the ropes from Benny. He’ll be back later and will take you to the shooting range.”

“Ugh,” She rolls her eyes for the effect.

Her father chuckles, “It was Dean’s idea but I agree. If you want to get into the business, you have to know how firearms work.”

Y/N presses her lips into a thin line, tries not to grin because that would be too obvious, “Fine.”

Dean’s standing by the door as Benny paces around the back office of a restaurant that’s situated not too far from the mob’s HQ.

The owner’s apparently late in paying this month's protection money, he’s been told. Azazel suggested that Benny takes Dean along to learn the art from the apparent best.

Benny had his people waking the family up in the apartment right above the restaurant that they are living in, and pointed a gun at all of them as they brought them down to the office. Now the father is sitting on a chair, his hands bound behind his back as he faces Benny. The wife is on the sofa, holding her children on either side of her body. The kids have their heads buried into their mother’s stomach so as not to have to watch what’s going on and she covers their ears for them.

It’s a heartbreaking sight and Dean’s disgusted, but he has to fucking play the part, doesn’t he? It’s actually the worst feeling in the world and even though he knows it’s a part of the job and he’s seen much worse, he can never get used to it. He will probably never be able to. He’s actually glad he’s the consigliere and doesn’t have to deal with this kind of thing on a daily basis. But still, Dean needs to do them because it’s expected from him to follow fucking orders.

“Tomorrow, I promise!” The owner says in broken English. Dean has read the files and knows that they are Armenians. Coming over to the States to pursue a dream with the whole clan. The father looks up at Benny with pleading eyes, “Please!”

“You had a fucking week,” Benny growls, “What will a day longer get you? You think you can go follow some rainbows and dig up some pots of gold?”

“We’ll have it for you tomorrow, I promise, please! I’m waiting for my cousin!” The man pleads.

Benny stops his pacing to chuckle. He swings his gun, hitting the man on the side of his face. The blow is so hard the guy topples over and immediately one of Benny’s men steps in and tips the chair back with the man still strapped to it.

The blow makes Dean flinch and he looks over to the mother, who has her eyes closed while she cries to herself silently. Her children are wailing as their mother pulls their faces deeper against the sides of her body.

“What will your cousin do?” Dean asks, and he knows he’s interrupting because Benny sends him a side-eye, however, Benny doesn’t dare to shut him up.

The man spits blood onto the carpet floor in his own office. Dean’s sure that the stains will be a bitch to get out, but that’s probably the least of the man’s worries.

He looks at Dean now, ignoring Benny who has a tight grip around his gun, the knuckles already turning white. Dean knows it’s partly because Benny’s irritated that he interrupted him.

“Please, sir. He sold his house to help me. He has an appointment at the bank later today.”

Dean nods. He believes the owner and he’s always good at reading people. He can detect if someone’s shitting him. Not that Dean thinks it’s super that someone has to sell a fucking house just for them to be able to pay protection money. The restaurant isn’t doing well apparently, he has read that too. They pay more to the mob than they are earning, which is seriously fucked up in Dean’s eyes.

“We could wait a day.” Dean looks up and meets Benny’s eyes, challenging the man. He’s really not intimidated by the dude but he knows that Benny’s intimidated by him. Maybe because Benny doesn’t know him yet, doesn’t know what Dean’s capable of, but the guy acts as if he respects him, so Dean takes that.

Benny sends him a glare before he snorts out a laugh, “Yeah, and then what? There’s always gonna be another day and another,” He rambles on, and then he turns to the owner, walks closer to the poor guy. Benny skims the barrel of his gun over the man’s cheek, “What guarantee do you have for me, huh? What can you give me so that I will take your word for it?”

The owner is breathing heavily before he spits blood onto the floor again. This time a tooth comes out with the spit. He’s also bleeding from his nose.

There’s silence in the room. All the other guys are standing around, but they don’t interfere. Fucking cowards. How can you watch this and not at least feel something? Every shred of morality is brainwashed out of their minds. Dean’s not surprised, actually. He’s only slightly irritated.

“Shall I take your wife for the day, huh?” Benny chuckles darkly, his face only inches from the man’s.

Dean looks over to the mother, her silent sobbings turn to little whimpers as she shakes her head and whispers no, no, no, over and over, like a broken record.

“Or your kids? Huh? You have a beautiful daughter, how old is she?” Benny grins.

“No!” The wife shouts while she lays her arm around her daughter. The girl is hugging her mother just a little tighter, too.

Dean guesses that the girl is not older than twelve and Benny’s clearly going too far with that.

“Hey,” He interrupts Benny, “We don’t harm kids.”

Benny snorts as he stands up straight before sending Dean a glare. His eyes are dark, furious. Dean doesn’t budge, doesn’t let the man intimidate him. Why should he, Benny’s a fucking wimp.

Dean ignores Benny and turns to the man on the chair, “Right, we’ll be here again tomorrow, have the money ready. Meanwhile, people will be watching your every move, making sure you don’t flee, you understand?”

He hears an audible exhale from the mother and the owner nods frantically, “Yes, yes! Thank you, sir! Thank you!”

Benny places his gun into his holster, his eyes are still on Dean. He watches as Benny bites the inside of his cheek and storms out past him, bumping into his shoulder deliberately on his way out.

As Dean makes his way out through the back of the office, he’s greeted by Benny who slams him against the wall and pins him there. Benny’s breathing is ragged as he moves his face closer to Dean’s.

“Just who the fuck do you think you are!” Benny hisses, his breath stinks of alcohol. It’s not even nine-fucking-AM. The dude has a serious drinking problem, apparently.

“I only have Azazel’s best interest in mind,” Dean shrugs and stays calm. It’s not hard. He’s not afraid of Benny at all, “Do you think he would be happy to hear that you threatened to take one of the kids?”

Benny gasps, his mouth opens and closes as he tries to come up with something to piss Dean off. When he can’t think of anything, he purses his lips to a thin line, “Fine. Whatever!” He pushes himself away from Dean with force and Dean has to flinch at the quick pain he feels in his shoulders.

The other man walks to his vehicle and gets in, driving away, before Dean could even push himself off from the wall.

Y/N walks into the dining room with the intention to get some coffee into her system. She can’t say that she’s not upset about not going into work and somehow she’s also a little happy that she gets to see Dean again, gets to be alone with him. She wonders though, if he’ll think that she’s a basket case for mentioning Adam, wonders if he really isn’t upset about her mentioning another man’s name when he kissed her.

To her surprise, she finds Bela sitting at the table, drinking her own cup of coffee.

“Hey?” She says, raising her eyebrows at her friend. Bela seems to be a little jumpy because the woman chokes on her coffee upon seeing Y/N, and she coughs while holding her palm flat to her chest, “I didn’t expect you here.”

She really didn’t. Bela usually calls before coming over, but what does Y/N know really, her house is a goddamn open place for people of the family. People come and go around here, there are security standing at the door, but they would let anyone in who they know are family. Besides, at this time of the day, Y/N’s already at work so it could be that Bela drops in every now and then without telling her?

“Yeah, uh,” Bela clears her throat, “It was just a spur of the moment. I really like the coffee here and I thought I could get one before going into work.”

Y/N glances over to the big clock hanging on the wall. It’s past eleven. She turns back to her friend, mutters a “Yeah, sure,” and sees Bela’s cheek turning bright pink.

Before Y/N can say more, her phone vibrates in her back pants pockets and she finishes it out, stares at the message from Dean. Her heart thumbs ridiculously fast and the thing with Bela suddenly not important anymore. The other girl takes her purse and walks into the kitchen with her half-drunken coffee mug, and Y/N can’t mind because her thumb already swipes over her phone to open up the message.

D: How are you today?

She looks up to see the maid bringing her coffee and she thanks the woman with a nod. Her lips curve up to a smile as she thumbs over the keyboard on her phone.

Y/N: Not good. I’m not allowed to go into work because you ran to my dad and whined about me pulling a gun on you.

D: Hey, in my defense, I almost shit my pants

She chuckles at that.

Y/N: You’re so dramatic. So, when will you be back? Apparently you’re out with Benny?

D: I’m already back.

She looks around, even looks behind her, because that’s something Dean would probably pull. She imagines him to be a guy who would jump out from somewhere to scare the shit outta her.

Y/N: How? I would have heard you because I was downstairs all the time.

D: Oh, sweetheart, I’m just good like that.

She snorts as there's another message coming in.

D: Meet me in my office? I’m in the one that belonged to Bobby, obviously.

Y/N: I’m having coffee.

D: Bring it with you. Get me one, too. Black.

D: Please?

She’s making her way to Dean’s office with two coffees in hand, walking slowly as she goes because she didn’t put them on a tray and doesn’t want to spill them about.

Y/N actually doesn’t know why she got his coffee in the first place. Dean can easily just call up the maid if he wants to have a cup of coffee, or anything else, but again, she doesn’t know what’s happening with her nowadays anyway. There’s a strong urge to please people. The urge has always been there. Maybe because she thinks that pleasing people will get her the recognition she wants and she can’t help but do it, even if she doesn’t like these people and what they’ve become at all. She has a rebellious streak, apparently. At least there’s that. It somehow makes her think that she’s probably not entirely corrupted by her urges.

“Hey,” She shouts out as she arrives at the door to his office that’s closed. She realizes that she can’t possibly open it up with two coffees in hand, “You gotta open for me.”

She can hear some shuffling inside, hears the clicking of dress shoes along the floor as Dean walks to open the door.

Dean opens up the door wide, an easy grin sitting on his face, “What about please and thank you?”

“I could just toss the coffee in your face, how’s that about please and thank you?” She scoffs playfully as she walks to his desk and places the two coffees onto it.

“You really brought me a coffee?” Dean asks in surprise as he closes the door and joins her at his desk, taking a seat at the big wooden table where he still has a lot of files spread on top.

She frowns, “Well, yeah? You said please.”

He chuckles, “Is that the way to get you to do things around here, huh?”

He stares at her with raised eyebrows as he takes the cup and places it to his lips. Oh god, his sinful fucking lips. All of a sudden, the images of last night come flooding into her mind and she can feel her ears burning. She thinks Dean must know because he pauses to stare at her some more, and the grin on his face turns cocky before he takes a sip of his coffee, groaning in satisfaction as the liquid goes down his throat.

“Right,” She says and clears her throat, trying to get the image out of her mind and changing the subject at the same time, “Dad said you’d take me to the shooting range?”

Dean takes another sip before he sets the mug down with a nod, “Yeah, that is correct. You up for it?”

“I mean, do I have a choice?” She clutches her coffee between her palms and shrugs.

“Y/N, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to, okay? I just thought it’d be good if you know how to shoot and actually hit your target. It might come in handy one day, you never know.”

She sighs, “See? I don’t have a choice.”

“You do. You say you don’t want to and I take you somewhere else, pretend we’ve been to the range just to not upset your father.”

He’d take her somewhere else? Where? Does she really want to know? Well, yeah, she does but her mind also says that Dean’s right. She should fucking know how to handle a gun. He’s right that it might come in handy. There are enough rival mob gangs around who are more than ready to take their place, apparently. Not that she cared that much about it.

“No, it’s okay, we can go.” She says at last, after a long thinking period.

Dean nods, but he doesn’t smile. Neither does she.

“Can you be ready in ten minutes?” He asks instead as he tips his mug back and swallows down all the coffee. His Adam’s apple is bopping and she has to bite down on her bottom lip so as not to squeal out loud.

How can someone make drinking coffee hot as fuck? Dean Winchester can and she might hate him a little for it.

“Sure.” She says, hiding her face behind her own mug as she drinks up her own coffee.

Dean’s surprised to see her bring him coffee. It was supposed to be a joke and he couldn’t help but smile brightly as he saw her juggling two mugs in her hands.

And when she sat in his office looking all flushed because he’s sure she thought about the kiss they shared — because he’s been thinking the same — he wanted to get up and walk around to kiss her again, just because he’s allowed to. Just because he fucking knows that she wants it as much as he does. But it would be too risky around here, he knows that too.

Jesus, he’s been thinking about her since he left her room last night. Had to fucking rub himself off while he took a shower, and while he closed his eyes, all he fucking saw and felt was her. He came embarrassingly fast but his dick never really softened after that. It stayed semi until he fell asleep to images of her, debauched and spit slick next to him.

That’s definitely not normal, neither is it good, he fucking knows, but apparently his dick didn’t get the memo yet.

He’s waiting in the foyer, looks through some emails on his phone when he waits for her to come down from her room so he can take her to the shooting range.

Somehow, though, Dean was hoping that she would say that she didn’t want to go. Maybe he wanted to whisk her away, take her out, make her forget her name, escaping her golden cage for a couple of hours. But she’s a fucking good girl and apparently, she likes to listen to her head. So whisking her away would have to wait for another opportunity.

Dean notices her walking down the stairs and as he looks up, his heart might have stopped beating for a moment. She’s changed from her food-stained work pants into a skirt.

A goddamn fucking skirt.

What makes her think that wearing a skirt to a shooting range is o-fucking-kay? Fucking princess, seriously. Dean mutters curses under his breath as he stands up and slips his phone back into his pants pocket.

“I’m ready,” She beams and Dean’s still grumpy as he curses silently.

He takes another look at her, eyes her up and down. The skirt isn't really short but it gives him enough of a view of her thighs, something he knows he shouldn’t fucking stare at. At least not when he’s in this goddamn house.

“You really wanna wear that, princess?”

Y/N frowns before she presses her lips together, pulling a pout. Jesus, that’s not fucking fair. He would just love to take a bite from those pouty plump lips. It’s also not fucking fair that the combination of her appearance and pout makes his dick stir in his pants. God, why did he think taking her to a shooting range would be a good idea? Clearly, his heart did all the thinking when he suggested the idea to her dad. His fucking heart should maybe talk with his fucking dick first before suggesting another stupid thing. And maybe, his fucking head should jump in next time and scold at every other part of his body.

“Why?” She says before her mouth widens to a grin.

Oh, she fucking knows why. Dean’s not really sure if he should be proud of the cheeky girl or not.

“You know why,” He grumbles.

She takes two steps closer, moves right into his fucking space, and stands up on her tiptoes. Her face is close to his. Close enough so he can smell the traces of her shampoo, can smell her perfume that fucking clouds his mind, “Does it turn you on?”

Dean pulls a frown. Not because he wants to, but more because he has to. God, yeah, he loves it, loves when she knows what she wants, but this is not a good place to rile him the fuck up.

His hands grab at her arms, pushes her back onto her feet, “Let’s go,” He mutters between gritted teeth, and she fucking chuckles as he pulls her along and out the door.

Y/N kept teasing him so much on the way to the range, that Dean popped a fucking boner, which again, it’s not fucking fair because he’s usually able to control himself, and he’s pretty good at it. It’s a thing he’s actually proud of because of all the undercover missions he’s been on, but hell, this mission is giving him headaches — and boners, apparently.

She kept moving her skirt up to her thighs, inch by little inch, while she crosses and uncrosses her legs, showing him more and more, and even though Dean tried not to look, he couldn’t resist a glance. He’s just a man, really. While she hitched her skirt higher, he couldn’t help but notice the holster.

Dean lifts his eyebrows in question, “You wearing a thigh holster, princess?” It does something to him, he can’t lie about that.

“Duh, where else should I keep my gun?”

This fucking girl, seriously.

He groaned, more out of frustration than anything else, and she just fucking giggled.

There was also a time that she watched him while he drove. He could feel her eyes on him, and he caught her pressing her thighs together, which made him chuckle to himself in silence. He’s not the only one affected.

They arrive in the parking lot of the shooting range that belongs to the mob and he gets out first because he doesn’t want to be sitting there and stare at her thighs when she gets out. Maybe also because he’s a little afraid that she’ll flash him her ass — which he’d actually love to see, but not when they’re out in the open — so he gets out and rights his suit to conceal his boner as best as he can.

Dean walks ahead, tries to not let her see his front. Doesn’t want her to see that he can be affected so easily. Doesn’t actually want to give her the satisfaction. She is a girl who likes to play, he has noticed, but again, so does he.

However, Dean has to stop mid-walk towards the entrance to the range because she doesn’t follow. Turning back, he lifts his arms and lets them fall to his sides frustratingly, “Do you need a special invitation or something, princess?”

“Ha!” Y/N giggles when she notices his still visible boner.

She’s laughing to herself as he pushes past him, making sure that she touches him and Dean catches a whiff of her alluring scent, it makes him fucking light-headed.

He rolls his eyes dramatically and only hears her calling out for him to move his ass.

So fucking bossy.

Yet, strangely, Dean doesn’t find it in himself to care.

The few people who are inside of the shooting range when they make their presence known, quickly clear the room.

Dean frowns and lets out a sigh, thinking how pathetic it is that they don’t even bother to interact. There was no fucking hello, or even a nod. In fact, they didn’t even look at Y/N, and by proxy, they avoided looking at Dean as well.

Fucking cowards.

He pities her, for real. What a lonely life she must lead. Everyone is afraid of her, when in reality she’s just a cinnamon roll. A dirty-minded and cheeky one from what he gathered, because she’s teasing him with that fucking skirt. Dean should be embarrassed that a simple skirt can rile him up so much.

The man who’s on range duty comes running towards them as the last of the people left through the front door. The employee breathes heavily and Dean knows that the guy most likely checked every room and told the people to leave because the princess has arrived. It’s not what he wants and by the look of her distraught face, it’s certainly not what she wants, but Dean has no say in this.

“Cleared it for you, sir,” The guy says to Dean, doesn't even look at her and that is really fucked up. She’s standing right the fuck here, “I’m taking a lunch break. Will an hour be enough?”

Dean looks at her, but her gaze is trained on her toes. He clears his throat before he looks back at the man, “Yeah, okay,”

The man nods and retreats as they both watch him leave.

As soon as the man’s out the door Dean lets out a sigh, “Well, this was hard to watch, even for me.”

“Yeah,” Y/N finally looks up from her toes and tilts her head up to meet his eyes, “I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be treated like that.”

She shrugs, “I don’t know any different, and honestly, can’t we not talk about it? Can we just get this shooting thing over with?”

Chapter.04

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

#golden cage #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #dean x reader #dean x you #nathalie wrties

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aineirisha · 3 years

Text

What I confessed while daydreaming

Kakashi x reader

Summary: Coming back from a mission early means one thing to him, more time with you.

A/N: I was writing some angst for Treachery and hurt myself. So I needed some fluff to balance and this happened :3 hope you like it. This is set before team 7 and you and Kakashi are not dating... yet.

He was crossing Konoha's gates at exact midday. Asuma pad on his shoulder.

"Another great mission. Aint it, Kakashi?"

They smiled at each other.

The black-haired left jumping on the buildings. Kakashi took a breath and looked up to the sky letting the wind caress his skin. He was finally back home. They wouldn't meet up with the Hokage to deliver the report until the evening which gave him a few hours for himself, so he decided to stop by your house.

He could listen to your music from the gateway. Good thing you lived on the outskirts of the village and you practically had no neighbors. He knocked on your door accidentaly pushing it open.

He glanced through it to find you dancing as you cleaned, just like that first night he spied on you, though that night you were cooking. A wide smile drew beneath his mask. You were exactly the same person. Except you weren't, not to him, not anymore. You were no longer a stranger in his eyes, to his heart.

He walked away to leave you be. He could come back later.

"Kakashi you're back," you said, excited. And turned the volume down.

"Hey YN-san, I didn't mean to intrude-"

"Don't worry I'm just cleaning. How did the mission go?"

He shrunk his shoulders, "Same as always."

"I'm glad you are back in one piece," you smiled as you looked into his eye. "Can I offer you something to drink?"

It took him a moment to understand what you said. Kami! he had missed your smile so much. "Uh, sure..."

You leaned the broom on the wall and got into the Kitchen. "Would you like to stay for lunch?" you turned to see him, "I'm cooking," you said as you wiggled your brows, "Naoki-san taught me this recipe and I decided I had to put my lack of skills to the test..."

He stayed silent, smiling.

"Can't promise it's gonna taste good but..."

"Sure, I'd love to." he finally concluded. He sat down on the couch and you started to sweep again.

"Are you sure I'm not interrupting, YN-san?"

"Does it make you uncomfortable that I'm cleaning?" you stared at each other. "You can help me if it makes you feel less awkward," and you tossed him the broom. You turned on the volume a little and danced your way to the kitchen to keep an eye on the food. A happy feeling in the air. He stared at you. His heart was probably not beating, or maybe it was beating too fast, he couldn't tell anymore.

"How do you do that?" he suddenly asked.

"Do what?" you glanced at him while you kept corky dancing with the ladle in your hand.

"That. Make everything feel like a celebration..."

"Oh Kakashi," you sighed, "if I didn't make my life a celebration I would've killed myself when I was seven," and awkwardly laughed.

Your words hit him. He never, not for a second, would've thought that someone like you could even consider taking their life away. It was like Guy not screaming around about the power of youth. It never crossed Kakashi's mind that maybe you have had a hard life. But... After all, what the hell were you doing in Konoha anyway? It was something he asked himself often.

But he could understand. If he hadn't been so frightened to follow in his father's footsteps, he would've killed himself too a long time ago. Maybe that was why he enjoyed your company so much, maybe you had found the way that he had needed.

It's in the little details.

The situation was a little surreal to him. He was helping you sweep your floor while you danced, jumping on your tiptoes, singing to the ladle as if it was your mic, and you pretended to check on the food. Your voice wasn't that bad, though.

"AAAAH!" you screamed.

"What is it?" he turned around. A small fire had lit on the stove.

"I think I burned myself," you said covering your eye with your hand.

"Let me see," he took your hand away gently and softly placed his fingertips on your cheek to set your eye under the light. Your gazes falling on each others’.

He was so close to you, you could hardly breathe. It would be a lie to say you didn't yearn for his touch. Your lips parted and tickled at the need of his.

God! Why did I ask him to be my sensei?!

You were getting tired of respecting 'The Line'.

For a fraction of a second, Kakashi's gaze fell on your lips.

"I- I think your eye is fine, YN-san," he stuttered and let go of your hand, "Do you want help with that?" he pointed at the food.

"Yeah..." you said in a childish voice.

He smirked and took over the kitchen.

"So you really can't cook, huh?"

You shrunk your shoulders and looked at him with puppy eyes.

"So all those nights I saw you dancing in the kitchen, what were you actually doing?"

"Hhmm.. dancing?" you looked away, pouting, "I can cook ok? just... very simple things... like..." the puppy face intensifying, "...instant ramen and stuff like that," you muttered.

He chuckled. Your sweet voice had his heart melted. You were cute. Hella cute. "I'm learning, ok? I always had someone cooking for me."

"Rich family?"

You froze. You were being too chatty, "Yeah... something like that... Oh! I love this song!!" and avoided the subject. Now the broom was your mic.

Kakashi chuckled again.

You looked at him from the corner of your eye as you pretended to not pay much attention. He looked fucking hot cooking. God bless you! You didn't know if you'd be able to focus on anything after this.

He seemed happy. You knew hugging him was out of the table so you increased your vibrations to reach his chakra and feel him closer.

After a while, his hips loosened a little and started dancing with you to the rhythm of every song as he cooked. You with the broom in hand, and him with the cooking tools.

When the food was ready he helped you set the table.

"I didn't know you could dance," you said as you sat down.

"Can I?" he giggled. Yeap, life with you was easier. For the past hour, the stress of the mission had abandoned him, in fact, he hadn't even remembered he was coming back from a mission. It seemed like life outside your living room didn't matter.

"Guess what?"

He looked into your eyes.

"I already finished Icha Icha," you smiled proudly.

"All of them?" he asked. The fanboy in him popping out. You nodded, "And? What do you think?"

"I liked some chapters more than others. I hate how she's portrayed as an excuse for him to surpass himself because I think she's a great character and could have sooo much potential. She's beautiful and smart, and brave, and strong... and I get the story is not about her, but sometimes she seems like an ornament, you know... I just wish female characters were not just there to make men better cause it is not our responsibility, and I know so many women in real life that feel that their ONLY purpose, the only thing they can aspire to be, is the rehab center for some troubled dude. Though I get it's pretty romantic when you meet someone that makes you wanna overcome yourself but... I dunno. It's just not women's responsibility. We are so much more than pretty faces and hot bodies...” you paused, “On the other hand... I absolutely love him. He's just so... full of hope. He never gives up, no matter what, he never stops believing that he'll get her, and he does absolutely everything he can to deserve her. And he is hilarious. Funny how romantic these porn books can be... I feel that's just how Jiraiya sees the world in general. Because Naruto, the character from the other novel, has a very similar approach to life but with much more honorable intentions," you tilted your head and raised your eyebrow.

Naruto...

The image of your blond kid crossed your mind making you smile.

Kakashi listened to you astonished, "And you got all that from a porn book?!" emphasizing the 'porn book' part.

You shrugged as if it was obvious.

He was looking at you completely amused. "I always knew those books are pure art," he scratched his head smiling.

The way his eye narrowed every time he smiled left you breathless.

Lord, I'm so screwed!

"What happened to your fence, by the way?" Kakashi reminded you of the messy paintings you hadn't fixed since that day with Naruto.

"I... I... was making life a celebration?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CH 7 (prev) CH 9 (next)

MASTERLIST

@ren-hatake @howcanibreathewithnozaire @strawberrycakesstuff @strangerfoundmahblog @kakashishoekage @spnningtop @attsm @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @honeypirate @keigelsss @witch-o-memes

#kakashi x reader #kakashi x y/n #kakashi x you #kakashi hatake #kakashi #what I confessed while daydreaming

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