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zepskies · 7 months

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Smoke Eater - Part 5

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,000 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, house fire, perilous situations, angst, hurt/comfort

Part 5: “Twitterpated”

“Hey there, beautiful,” Dean said.

His voice alone was enough to cause a shiver tingling down your spine.

You couldn’t help but giggle as he once again drew you into a kiss. He held you close by the waist. Feeling his hands spanning your lower back was doing things to you, but you knew you had to keep a level head here.

“Dean,” you said. Your lips curved against his. “We’ve said hello about three times now.”

“Wanna make it four?” he suggested. His voice was deep as sin.

Damn this man, you thought. He was a professional flirt.

But you laughed, and he smirked at the sound. He resisted letting you go when you playfully tried to pull away. The two of you were standing in the middle of your small office, in front of your desk at work. A large bag of takeout was perched on your desk, but neither of you cared about food just yet.

Dean liked the look of you in your navy blouse, tucked into a trim pair of pants, down to your smart heels.

“Tell me you didn’t go up all 20-something flights of stairs in those daggers you got on,” he remarked.

You followed his gaze down to your heels.

“Oh no,” you said. “I’ve got a backup pair of sneakers that I came to work in. Then I slip these on behind my desk. No one’s the wiser.”

Dean enjoyed that playful little smirk you gave him. He still couldn’t believe you’d walked all those stairs, but he guessed he couldn’t begrudge you for your lingering fear of elevators.

“Yeah? What else do you get up to behind that desk? Besides work, that is,” he teased. You guffawed and playfully hit his arm.

He chuckled and finally released you. You’d already dragged a spare chair next to yours behind your desk, so he began helping you unearth the various containers in the bag he brought. All the while, he surreptitiously took an inventory of your office.

It was all very neat and organized, just like you. You had a large window right behind you, which let in some much-needed natural light. There were tile floors, like the rest of the building, but while your desk was an old wood, clunky thing, you had a double monitor setup with an organized file system on either side.

As you pushed things aside and made room for the food, Dean noted the way stray pieces of hair fell from your clip, framing your face. He itched to take that clip out and make that hair wild, maybe even wrapping it around his hand.

Instead, he reached out and tucked a few strands behind your ear. It earned your attention with a soft blush.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothin’,” he grinned. He was treated to one of your shy smiles as you continued in your task.

Soon you and Dean were once again sharing good food and conversation. You explained what you did for work, being a Senior Sales Representative at Savage & Co. He listened, offering interjections here and there: gems like, Josh sounds like a fucking idiot. And, so does your boss. You couldn’t disagree.

In the back of your mind, it was still a bit strange for Dean to be in your office. It felt rather intimate for a second date, but you supposed coming to your place of work wasn’t so new to him.

“You sure are killing that chicken,” Dean remarked, as he watched you carve into a large drumstick with fork and knife. He shot you a teasing smile. “You know it’s already dead, right?”

You gave him a dry look, despite your amusement. “I’m starving! All I’ve had today is a cup of coffee.”

He frowned at that. “What, you can’t take a break for an egg McMuffin?”

“Ha!” you cracked, and took a sip of lemonade. “There are no breaks around here.”

Dean hummed, though you could see he didn’t like it.

“You sound like Sam,” he said.

“Oh, your brother?”

“Yeah, Mr. District Attorney,” Dean said in a mocking voice. But his smile betrayed his fondness, and his pride for his younger brother’s accomplishments.

You remembered then that Dean’s father was a police officer as well—a real life homicide detective! You ruminated on that when you and Dean moved on to dessert. You had a scoop of frozen yogurt, while he started to dig into a slice of blueberry pie.

“You know, it’s amazing to me that your entire family went into public service, from all angles,” you said. “It’s impressive…and really noble, actually.”

Dean offered you a quirk of a smile. It told you he wasn’t typically one to be comfortable with praise, as he carded a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, well. It’s a living,” was all he said.

You shook your head with a smile. His humility seemed genuine, and you found it endearing as hell.

“And you’re the eldest, right?” you asked. Dean nodded around a mouthful of pie. He set down the little tray between you for a moment.

“Yeah, though you wouldn’t know it looking at my brother. Around sixteen, he shot up like a damn weed. Friggin’ gigantor.”

You giggled at the image. Now you were truly intrigued, and hoped to meet both Sam and Dean’s father in the future. Though for right now, you glanced down at the slice of pie resting between you, all glossy blueberry filling and flaky crust.

You raised your cup of frozen yogurt to him. “Wanna try a bit of this, so I can try a bit of that?”

You went for a piece of pie with your fork, but Dean snatched the tray out of reach. He eyed you with a bit of admonishment.

“Hey, now. I got you your fake ice cream or whatever,” he said. You rose brow at him, both incredulous and amused.

“What, you won’t share with me?” you asked.

A smile twitched at his lips, but he stayed firm.

“Sweetheart, I’ll get you whatever you want, but here’s where I draw the line.”

You laughed in disbelief. But then an idea made your smile slide into flirtation. You set your dessert aside and rolled your chair closer to his. Dean watched you as your hand slid up his arm, and your pretty eyes met his.

“Okay, what if I make it worth your while?” you posed.

He tilted his head. His hand found the curve of your waist and slid around, bringing you even closer.

“Oh, yeah?” he challenged. “If you really want my pie, that’s gotta be damn worth it.”

Another giggle bubbled in your throat, but you continued to play your part.

“I have a few ideas,” you said. Your fingers drew a path down his chest, over the soft gray Henley he wore. You could feel the warmth of his skin underneath, and the firmness of his body. His grip on your waist tightened a fraction.

And he smirked. “Tell me…”

Your lips were a whisper from his. He smelled like spicy cologne and blueberries. Two of his fingers came to brush your hair away from your cheek…

But as usual, your boss had the absolute worst timing. The sound of your office door opening was like a gunshot ringing through the room, making you and Dean separate from one another with a jolt.

Nick Savage strode in without knocking, as he was wont to do. (No matter how many times you asked him not to.)

“Hey, what’s your progress on the Greenway account…oh,” said Nick, pausing where he stood.

He took note of Dean in the room and straightened his posture. His expression changed from its lazy gait, to a more tightened one. You swore you could spot a tinge of annoyance as well, like he was surprised that he hadn’t caught you alone in your office.

“I see I’m interrupting,” he said.

Holding in a sigh, you looked over at Dean and found him similarly assessing Nick.

“This is Dean. You might remember him from last week, when the elevator broke down. He’s one of the firefighters who got me out,” you said. Your hand fell on your companion’s arm. “Dean, this is—”

“Her boss,” Nick said. He seemed to lighten up and give Dean a smile, reaching over to shake the man’s hand. Dean obliged him.

“So I’ve heard,” he said. His tone was pleasant enough, but still more reserved.

Nick purposefully shifted his attention back to you.

“Report? Greenway account?” he repeated.

Your lips firmed into a line, though you slipped back into the professional patience you had to maintain at all times with this man.

“I’m still on my break, but I’ll have the report to you by end-of-day,” you said.

Nick tsked at you with a shrug. “How’re you gonna get that account locked down if you’re not trying to conference with Mr. Greenway? He’s headed to China in two hours.”

You had to reign in an annoyed tick in your brow. But you didn’t notice how Dean was watching the exchange between you and your boss with a thinly veiled frown.

“I’ve called three times, Nick. He’ll get back to me.”

“Hmm. I wonder if Josh is taking that same approach,” Nick wondered with mocking sincerity. “I’ll go ask him.”

He finally turned to leave, though he stopped short, giving Dean a lazy salute. “Nice to meet you…”

“Dean,” he reminded.

“Right.” Nick slid a pointed finger your way. “Greenway. 2:00 p.m.”

You were silently simmering by the time your office door closed behind him.

“Well, he’s a delight,” Dean remarked.

“He’s a dick,” you huffed and tossed your napkin down. But you grabbed your desk phone to make a quick call—to Mr. Greenway.

Dean frowned, but he covered it up by wiping his mouth with a napkin, subtly clearing his throat.

“I should head out then, let you get back to work,” he said.

His words made you pause. You had a reply ready on your tongue, that his suggestion was probably for the best.

But then you actually looked into his eyes. Guilt prickled in your chest as you realized what you were doing. Not only were you letting Nick get under your skin again, but here was a man who’d brought you lunch. Who was willing to sit in an uncomfortable chair to spend some time with you, and you were about to brush him off.

You hung up the phone without dialing.

“No. I’m sorry. Stay, please,” you told him, and grabbed his arm to keep him in his seat. You pushed your desk phone away with your spare hand and gave Dean your full attention, along with a smile.

“Where were we?” you asked.

Finally, Dean’s reserved expression eased as he relaxed in his chair, and subtly leaned towards you. He thumbed at your cheek with a smirk.

“I don’t know, something about making it worth my while.”

You bit your lip on a deeper smile.

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded. You crossed the ever-closing distance to give Dean a proper kiss. Your hand found his cheek, and your thumb brushed back and forth across the stubble there. You tasted sweet, sweet pie on his lips.

Even after you parted softly, Dean went back in for a second taste of you. This time it was deeper, as he angled into the kiss. He once again brought you close, just shy of dragging you into his lap.

His hand reached behind your head and succeeded in taking the clip out of your hair. He tossed it on your desk and sunk his hand into the soft strands while his lips continued to devour yours.

It was a small move, but you found it both soothing and exhilarating. You shuddered when you felt his fingers brush the back of your neck. It had you contemplating locking the door of your office and forgoing the rest of lunch…but your mind was competing with your heart, warning you to be cautious. To protect yourself.

Really, you’d just met Dean. You had no idea what to expect here, even though your heart was tripping up over his slightest touch.

Still, your face was warm when you eventually parted from him. You chanced meeting his eyes, and you blushed further at what you saw.

The truth was, Dean had been contemplating laying you out flat across your desk. But he tried his best to keep it down to a simmer behind his eyes, a bright and gleaming green.

“Worth it?” you asked. Your voice was a mere whisper, despite your smile.

He returned it, and gave you one last kiss.

“So worth it,” he said.

Dean wasn’t sure he liked this.

The start of his shift was usually the time for him to be relaxed, but focused. He knew who he was and what he needed to do when he entered the firehouse. It was his second home, perhaps even the place where he felt most comfortable.

And yet, he nearly burnt his hand while pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Shit,” he muttered. He jolted and hopped back a step as scalding brown liquid splashed between his feet. It had Benny and Meg looking over from the common room, where they sat at the dining table.

Dean looked at the mess he created and tried not to sigh. He wasn’t awake enough for this…or maybe, he didn’t want to admit that he’d been thinking about you.

Your smile, your eyes, your voice, your occasional shyness, versus the way you dealt with your boss like a pro. Your confidence that was damn sexy, and had Dean imagining what you’d be like taking his orders, or giving them right back, shoving him down into a seat, straddling his thighs, his hands hiking up your skirt…

Dean shook his head a bit sharply to try and clear it.

He circled into the kitchen in need of a paper towel. But he bumped right into Jack, who was making breakfast. It sent the salt canister flying out of his hand and dumping into the pan of eggs.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry,” Dean said. He really did sigh this time. Now they’d have to wait even longer for breakfast.

“Uh, it’s okay. I can save it,” Jack said, though his brows were furrowed as he contemplated just how he was going to do that. He took a wooden spoon and tried to scoop out the mound of salt on the still-sizzling eggs.

Meanwhile, Dean’s lips pursed as he went over to grab a few paper towels. Once the mess by the coffeemaker was clean, he poured himself a tall cup and took a seat between his friends. Benny shot him a glance as he sipped at his own mug.

“You all right, brother?” Benny asked.

“Just fine,” Dean replied. He tried to sound breezy, but neither Benny or Meg bought it. She eyed him with a smirk.

“Heard you went on a date the other night,” she said. “A real one, with chocolates and flowers and all that shit.”

Dean shot her a sharper frown. “Who the hell told…oh. Perfect. Goddamn it, Cas.”

He should’ve known that big-mouth bastard couldn’t be trusted.

“Nope,” Meg said. Her eyes were dancing mischievously, and Dean knew he was in for it this morning. “Your little girlfriend is best friends with my cousin.”

She tossed a sly look at Benny. “You remember Andréa. You two were sucking face hardcore the other night. And giving quite a show to the local pedestrians. Have you called her yet, by the way?”

Benny cleared his throat, but he looked both unrepentant and tight-lipped about his business as he stayed sipping his coffee. Dean shot him a smirk. Until Meg directed her cutting gaze back to him.

“And you,” she said, just as slyly. “Dating your own damsel in distress. How fucking predictable.”

Dean’s lips firmed into a line, while Benny’s brows shot up.

“You really went for it with Elevator Girl?” he remarked in surprise. “I saw you two talkin’, but didn’t think you’d pulled the trigger.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “All right, first of all, let’s stop calling her ‘Elevator Girl.’ She’s got a name.”

Once he’d told them your name, however, their smiles deepened. And Dean knew it was about to be a long shift.

“Ooh, he’s got it bad, bad,” Benny shook his head.

Meg made a “cute” face at him and reached out to shake Dean’s chin, smirking when he slapped her hand away.

“Look at him, all twitterpated,” she teased.

“I’m fine,” Dean all but gritted out.

Benny chuckled, but truthfully, he was happy for his friend. It seemed the time had finally come when Dean Winchester was hooked on a nice girl. Hopefully one he intended to keep seeing.

“If it’s that serious, you should bring her by the Roadhouse again,” Benny said.

Dean snorted into his coffee. “Yeah, like I’d want to subject her to you degenerate clowns.”

“Well, if you expect to keep it going with this girl, she’s gotta meet us eventually,” Meg pointed out. Dean shot her a look.

“Oh, she’s definitely not meetin’ you,” he said.

Meg’s brows knit together. “What? I’m perfectly pleasant.”

Before Dean could utter a retort, a familiar alarm bell tolled on the intercom speakers. There was a working house fire over in Bellmont—the wealthier part of town. Truck 79 and Rescue Squad 5 were called, along with Ambulance 7.

All hands on deck.

“Okay, Jack. You’re staying on my ass once we get in there. You got it?” Dean told the Candidate.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Jack agreed. It was only his second real fire since he joined Firehouse 25.

By now the team was in full gear, with jackets and helmets and belts. The Chief, Bobby Singer, was at the helm. He and Dean shared a nod.

“All right, Dean. Head in. Lafitte and Ramirez will vent the roof,” he said.

Dean nodded again. “You got it, Chief.”

While two of his team got the firehose ready, Dean fitted his mask over his face. Already the fire was at a full blaze. They had a limited time before the fire grew too wild to safely maneuver. They’d know when the flames started smoking black. The Chief would let them know on their walkie talkies, and Dean would have to pull his team out.

But first, there was a family of four trapped inside the large two-story house. He fully intended to get every single one of them out.

Thanks to the mask, he could hear his own deep breaths in his ears as he entered the house. A quick look back confirmed that Jack was on his heels, and Gordon was right behind him.

“Okay, clear each room. I’m going right, through the kitchen,” Dean called out the order.

“I’ll take left through the living room,” Gordon replied.

Dean shot a thumbs up. “Copy that.”

Then they got to work.

The flames were high and eating up the walls of what would’ve been a pristine open kitchen. The room was clear, so Jack and Dean kept moving forward until they reached a long hall. They had to hasten single file until Dean opened up the first bedroom with his crowbar.

“Fire Department, call out!” he shouted.

He didn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean the room was clear. It was a child’s room, a girl if he had to guess. There were stuffed animals strewn across an unmade bed with pink bedsheets. He checked the closet while Jack looked under the bed. Neither man found anything.

“All right, moving on. First bedroom clear,” Dean said into his walkie talkie. “Going upstairs next.”

“Master bedroom clear,” Gordon commed in.

Jack and Dean continued to the second floor, where the flames were thickest. It was getting harder to see, and even harder to breathe, despite the mask.

“We’re almost outta time, fellas,” Bobby radioed.

“Just a couple more rooms, Chief,” Dean responded. The first and second bathroom was clear, as was a linen closet in the hall. He had a feeling about this last room though.

He opened the door and nearly got a flaming piece of wall dropped on his head. He jumped back at the same time Jack helped pull him to safety.

Dean breathed deeply. He didn’t have time for thanks, but he reached back and pat Jack on the arm before he entered the bedroom. It was another child’s room, this time for a boy—with green walls, and a school uniform on the back of a chair.

“Fire Department!” he said, though it nearly died on his tongue at what he saw.

There in the far corner, on the other side of the twin bed, was a man kneeling on the floor. He was doing his best to cover his wife and kids. His back was charred beyond recognition.

Dean snapped to attention when he heard one of the kids whimper.

“Fire Department,” he repeated, as he rushed to them. He and Jack peeled the man off his family as carefully as he could. Dean hauled him onto his shoulder.

Meanwhile, the man’s wife was crying and holding her children as tight as possible: a boy that looked about 10 years old, and a young girl. The mother’s glassy eyes widened with hope when she saw Jack and Dean.

“We’re gonna get you out. Come on,” Dean reassured. His hand on her shoulder was both supportive and urging her up onto her feet. Jack helped get her kids up as well.

Gordon joined them as soon as they were out of the room. He picked up the boy while Jack carried the little girl, and Dean had an arm wrapped around the mother while he still carried the father on his shoulder.

They made it out of the house just before the ceiling started to cave in at the doorway.

Meg and Chuck were waiting for them with a gurney, where Dean carefully laid down the man he carried. His wife hovered close with her kids as Meg began calling out instructions to her partner, trying to take the man’s vitals, all while they wheeled him towards the ambulance.

Just before they would’ve brought him up into the ambo, Meg halted them with a hand. Her other gloved hand was poised at the man’s wrist. She listened closely for a few more seconds in concentration…

And she sighed through her nose. She removed her stethoscope and met the wife’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. He’s gone.”

Dean’s heart fell into his stomach, but he held the woman as she fell apart. Jack and Gordon did the same for the kids. Behind them, the rest of the team were dousing the flames and black smoke consuming the house with the firehose. Chief Singer let out a heavy breath, but he continued issuing orders as needed.

Dean stared at the pale, soot-stained face of the man he’d failed to save. The woman’s cries rang in his ears, and he continued to support her as she fell to her knees and gathered her children close.

He understood their pain.

Not for the first time, he wondered what his father must’ve felt…the day his mother died.

Dean was a seasoned firefighter. He’d seen enough of the horrors this world could produce, and he had an internal catalogue of shit he’d rather forget. But he knew, as he later got back onto the truck for the long ride back to the firehouse.

He knew this day would be another one to be imprinted on his memory.

“You’re quiet,” Sam noted. He ate dinner in relative silence with his brother, in the apartment they shared. Dean met Sam’s eyes.

“Long day,” Dean eventually said.

Sam didn’t like the sound of that. Before he could probe further, Dean’s phone vibrated on the small dining table.

Dean slowly reached for his phone and saw the new text message, from you.

Hey, thanks again for lunch yesterday. Hope I get to see you again soon. ❤️

It briefly lightened him, almost bringing a smile to his face.

It soon fell, even though his thumb hovered over the keyboard to reply. His mind was blank. Right now, he couldn’t think of a damn thing flirtatious, or charming, or even human enough to say to you.

“Dean,” Sam said, earning his attention. “What’s wrong?”

Again, Dean hesitated. He blew out a slow, heavy breath and sat back in his seat. He ran his fingers roughly through his hair as he thought and thought.

But if anyone might’ve understood where his head was at, it was his brother.

“What do you think would’ve happened if Mom had made it out of the fire, instead of Dad?” Dean asked.

To say that question shocked Sam would be an understatement. Yet to his credit, Sam internalized most of his reaction. He tilted his head as his brows furrowed.

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. Dean’s question was impossible for his mind to even wrap around; mostly because he never got the chance to meet his mother. The house fire claimed their home when Sam was barely six months old.

All he knew was his father, and Dean.

Dean shook his head and wiped a hand over his mouth, an anxious gesture Sam knew well.

“She would’ve been just as messed up at Dad, but…I don’t know. Ignore me. I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying.”

“What made you think about that?” Sam asked.

“Today,” Dean said. Though he paused, he managed to say it. “It was a house fire. A mom and two little kids, boy and girl. Their dad just laid over ‘em, took the brunt of it.”

“Jesus…he didn’t make it, did he?” Sam deduced, from Dean’s eyes and his tone. Dean shook his head slow.

“I’ve seen a lot of shit, Sammy, but…”

This was why Sam worried about his brother. He admired the hell out of him, but he also worried.

Sam had a ring in his nightstand. He’d picked it out last month. Part of him was hesitating to move forward, not because he thought his girlfriend of three years would say no to marrying him, but because he didn’t want his brother to be alone.

“You don’t have to look at me like that. I’m okay,” Dean said, levying him with a knowing look. His lips gave a wry turn. “Nothing a couple shots of Jameson won’t cure.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, that’s what you need.”

“Right. Like I haven’t caught you up late with your mistress, Johnny Walker,” Dean tossed back.

Sam’s lips pursed, but the point was made. He spent his days putting murderers, drug dealers, rapists, and thieves on trial. Some days were darker and more unreal in their realism than others. And he could only burden Eileen so much.

Still, he didn’t like the look of Dean, who got up from the table and took his half-full plate of spaghetti to the sink.

Dean went up to his room and showered. He’d done so at the station, but showering was one of those methodical things he could do to try to ease his mind, besides working on his car. It provided an alternative to drinking.

But it didn’t work this time, as he knew it wouldn’t. He lied in bed after getting dressed, just staring up at the ceiling.

He checked his phone and saw your text, still waiting on an answer. He hesitated…but his thumb hovered over your name. He called you instead.

“Hey,” your soft voice greeted him. You sounded surprised to get his call, but also a little sleepy, like you were on the verge of going down for the night.

“Hey, yourself,” Dean said. “Sorry, were you about to get to sleep?”

“No, I’m awake. What’re you up to?”

“I’m home. Been a long day,” he admitted.

“Yeah?” you asked. “Dean, are you okay?”

He heard the perceptive shift in your tone. Against his best efforts, he should’ve known you would pick up on the threads of his mood. But he smiled at the sincerity in your voice. True concern.

“Yeah. I’m good, sweetheart. How’re you?”

“Uh-uh. Not so fast,” you replied. “…Did something happen at work today?”

He sighed. “Yeah, but uh…we don’t need to get into it. It’s okay.”

“You sure?” you asked. “I’m a good listener.”

“That you are,” he said, with a deeper smile. “You know what’ll help me?”

“What’s that?”

“Tell me, how bad did you wanna knuckle-dunk your boss’s teeth in today?”

“Oh my God. On a scale of 1 to 10?”

“Lay it on me.”

“20,” you replied. “You met him, so now I can tell you without exaggeration. He’s the Chief Asshat among asshats.”

Dean chuckled. It crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“What’d he do this time?”

You explained your latest frustrations. Then you continued to make him laugh with all the creative ways you’d imagined ending your boss for his dickish behavior, demanding reports, pitting you against your coworkers, being a general pain in the ass.

The rusty can opener in the break lounge was Dean’s personal favorite.

Hearing about your day, and the colorful adjectives you used, managed to lighten him. For a little while, it even took his mind off his troubles. And you admitted that venting to him about your violent fantasies was its own form of therapy.

“Damn, do I gotta worry about you?” Dean teased.

“Only if you get on my bad side, Lieutenant,” you said. Your voice was nearly a purr.

It had him smirking, with a tendril of heat lacing down the back of his neck.

“All right, then. I promise I won’t make it a habit,” he said. “Gotta keep you nice and sweet for me.”

You laughed then, in a way that had him imagining your pretty blush.

He ended up talking with you about everything and nothing, well into the night.

AN: 🥹 *sighs* Anywho, I know this chapter was a little shorter than usual, but I hope you got a kick out of Dean's first meeting with Nick. And we got a snapshot of an unfortunate "bad day" at the firehouse.

In Part 6, we'll get deeper into the murder mystery, along with a taste of jealousy...

Next Time:

“Uh, no, that’s okay,” you said. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“What?” Gordon asked.

It was getting busy in the bar, making it loud enough that you could understand why he hadn’t heard you. You leaned over towards his ear.

“I’m good for now, thanks,” you said, raising your voice a bit. Gordon leaned in even closer and chanced resting a hand above your knee.

“You sure?” he asked. He gave you a smile that was all smooth sex appeal and confidence, without being arrogant. It was undoubtedly attractive, but you were more shocked than charmed in your blush.

You instinctively leaned back when you felt his hand on your thigh.

Keep Reading: PART 6

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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#Twitterpated #Smoke Eater #Part 5 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #spn #supernatural #zepskies writes

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aratitty-itto · 9 days

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Diluc's In-game outfits: An analysis

His regular outfit- Official name Darknight Blaze (really Diluc???) source First, it's similar to the long coat he wears in the manga when he's still in the knights. The ropes he has on one shoulder are something you usually only see on military uniforms, too. Also, the belt that crosses the chest and then one across the hip- that's similar to a weapon/sword belt, and it's one many of the knights have with the one across the chest there to keep the belt from sagging. These are two things I think Diluc had in the knights and incorporated into his later outfit. The all black with some gilt/gold is because Diluc is dramatic and likes the color and also looks good in it. The red on the gloves I personally think is also because Diluc is, again, dramatic and determined to wallow in guilt, so he made the palms red "to remind himself of the blood on his hands" or some shit. (I'll admit this is headcanon territory but i think it's really in character.)

Practically, the coat is armor. The coat looks and moves like it's made of some heavy material. I think it would be wool, because wool as a material has a lot of bonuses. It burns after some time- but is hard to catch on fire. It's a great insulator, so it keeps heat in in the cold . . . . and also keeps it out in. It doesn't melt to your skin like some materials (usually synthetic ones) would when burned. Wool can withstand the temperatures of a regular campfire normally for a fair amount of time, and even higher temps if its specially treated. It's used in firefighter suits even today for all of these reasons. Wool keeps you warm even in rain. It also repels water because of the oils in wool and it takes a lot to get it wet.

And as for armor- Heavy and/or padded fabric is fantastic about spreading out the force of a blow. Diluc would probably barely feel an average punch and maybe get a bruise from a sword slash. It might even block a stab from a dagger or sword (depends on weapon quality and force behind it) or at least keep the stab from going in too far. Those giant arm cuffs have a purpose- double the armor on his wrists, one of the most important things to keep from getting injured while fighting. Same for that little capelet- a hit on the shoulders or near the spine would stagger you and make it hard to swing a heavy claymore with the force necessary. I definitely think Diluc decided to put his collar up like that because he thinks it makes him look cool- and then realized it helped prevent slashes to the back of his neck. The coat is open in the front- but you're able to guard your front a lot easier than your back. Even the fact that its sewn in all those weird shapes is useful. If it gets cut/burnt/bloodied too much in one section he simply rips the seams on those specific panels to replace them, instead of having to replace the whole coat. Also, if you headcanon Diluc as autistic I can tell you that wearing a wool cape/coat is like wearing a weighted blanket. It feels so nice. i also wonder if there's something about self-consciousness, and feeling like he needs several layers between his body and the rest of the world at all times.

Red Dead of Night- 5-star skin

source His Hidden Strife event outfit. In the Hidden Strife event we got it in he said something like "It's an old outfit he got while fighting the Fatui." It looks a bit similar to the Pyro agents, actually. Not so much the recent ones besides the feather-like coattails, but I bet the Fatui changed military uniforms, partly because uniform changes happen regularly and partly because Diluc may have been using Fatui uniforms to sneak into bases and such.

He probably doesn't wear it all the time for darknight heroing, but it comes in handy for certain things because-

-if its night you will only see shapes instead of colors and red isn't actually super noticeable in the dark, if someone sees it they will see the distinctive tailcoat that looks a lot like a Fatui Agent, and will assume its Fatui- perfect for if he wants the Fatui blamed for this action.

-if it is a Fatui uniform he stole it's a combat uniform so its meant to be maneuverable in combat. if he has it why not use it.

-already has armor built in, its probably meant for Pyro agents so it's presumably fire resistant. I've seen several cosplays made with leather which would make a lot of sense, it's light, maneuverable, fire resistant and provides light armor.

-and probably the original reason he has it- it has bird theming, the bird on the waistcoat and the back looks like tail feathers, it's red, it's fire-themed, I bet you when Diluc first saw it he was so jealous and needed one himself. And then realized all the other practical points of stealing one.

In conclusion, Diluc is wearing armor at all times even when it looks like he isn't. I wonder what he would wear for purely comfort?

#diluc #headcanon #genshin headcanons #genshin diluc #diluc ragnvindr

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the-slasher-files · 9 months

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FIND ME

NIKTO

This is just a very simple vibey fic filled with comfort and blood, being somewhat of a soulmate to a cold soldier, also just really trying to figure out how to write for him. I wrote the dialog in English, only because my Russian is quite minimal, however I imagine this would all be in Russian.... anyway, enjoy 🤍🔪

MASTERLIST

You saw the wide expanse of his back flexing with each breath against the midnight sky; Armor plates and ammo adorned, making the soldier look twice the size. A Russian bear, a grizzly in the deadly woods with 4 inch razor sharp claws, bound to tear and rip flesh.

"Nikto?" You called, and there was only silence.

Just dogs in the distance and winds across the desert. Smoke lifted in a small stream from the cigarette laid forgotten within his strong hands. Gloveless, the scars littered him. He was a picture of torture. A man that had no right to be alive after all he had been put through. He shouldn't be sitting on this rooftop, looking over the ruins of a demolished village, but he was, at least his body was.

Somewhere, Nikto's mind was far from here, dissociated away from the noise and bloodstained boots. Perhaps he was back in Russia or maybe nowhere at all.

The firefight triggered this state, and he was left alone as he liked to be. However, you had begun to worm into an icy tundra that was his heart and gave him a soft company as his mind wandered away. When he knew that you'd be ok, he slipped away to the rooftop.

Gently, you stepped forward. Not wanting to scare the large man, you hummed a quiet tune, a Russian lullaby your mom had sang. It had been something you both had done when the others' nerves were frayed and lit a blaze, calming and better to warn of a presence than footsteps or speaking. The soldier flinched, turning for a quick glance over his broad shoulder before shifting back. The black fabric of his mask had been unsnapped from the hard plastic to reveal scars from burned skin that took parts of his lip to show teeth, a bear's snarl forever imprinted. And a deep, jagged scar from a knife that ran down his nose. Quickly, he fastened the mask back in place and threw the tobacco off the ledge.

"Sorry— I..."

"Don't be. Come" Nikto's voice was like gravel with rounded stones padding the edges of his blunt sentences.

With calculated steps, you swung your legs over the crumbling plaster edge of the building and looked out upon the view he had been taking in for hours; Low light clung close to broken buildings and men patrolled the streets, outlines of far away mountains could be seen as the faint light of morning was upon you. It was beautiful in a way. A small getaway from danger and brutality, you sat together. Your eyes foreward, his burned into you clandestinely as they always did. If you were near, those icy blue daggers followed you and struck deep.

The noise of a ticking inside Nikto's throat drew you to his gaze, "That was a bloody one, eh?"

Abruptly, the Russian brought his smooth fingers —ones completely bare of fingerprints. Burned away from torture and once in an acute dissociated state, Nikto had taken a lighter to the tips — roughly against the fresh stitches that were holding a knife wound together, gaping the flesh just above the collar of your jacket. And those haunting eyes vividly recalled you gripping at your throat, blood pooling within your gloved fingers and pouring out. You were horrified as Nikto dropped the man that threatened to slit your jugular, missing by merely an inch. Shaking and clawing at your skin, he held you and triple checked the wound before a medic had taken over.

It was scary for both of you, and he was coming slowly to those terms.

"Too close, Bear" A breath released between your teeth as he gawked and prodded, setting a whine on your tongue before swallowing it back.

Nikto pulled back, sometimes not realizing the roughness within his touch, "...little fox"

Breathing out his pet name for you, not your callsign or real name, you knew the gulit was going to eat him alive once his brain allowed the process of emotion and memories, but you would be there.

The tundra of blue met your eyes in a language of comfort, love and perhaps something more that you two had never come to grips with. Bouncing your eyes across the mask and every single speck of green that was hidden in painted blue of his irises, he stiffened, looking down and eventually turning back to the view. You knew you shouldn't have lingered so long, but it was only in your humanity to want for something more. An ache and desire that you would fend off time and time again.

However, as time ticked away with the sand that blew in the desert, the man beside you did not stray away from you. In fact, Nikto let you lean on his shoulder and pulled you even closer. Feeling the cold press of the plastic mask upon your hair and his large hand gently playing with a loose thread of your hoodie. Quietly you began to hum the lullaby again, a soft tune under the parting clouds. He was easing now, a safe space created around you both as the sun had crawled up the mountains and illuminated the devastation of man across these lands. You had to leave soon for another deployment, a solo mission where you could pretend that he wasn't your bear and you were not his little fox. Things would go back to normal, and callous would grow thick again until your voice would reach his timber as you souls could intertwine in safe spaces once more.

#my writing #nikto #cod #call of duty #modern warfare #x you #imagine #x reader

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ddejavvu · 1 year

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m.list - bradley 'rooster' bradshaw

fics:

Love to Lie

Break, Bite, Bang

Thick Thighs Save Lives (Ft. Jake 'Hangman' Seresin)

thoughts: #let's talk about rooster !!

blurbs:

rooster x bau!reader (criminal minds crossover)

rooster finding out you have a praise kink

double teamed by rooster and hangman | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

road trip with rooster and hangman

rooster x author!reader

living with rooster

you visit rooster at the hard deck

camboy!rooster x shy!reader

rooster cheers you up during a bout of depression

rooster giving you thigh burn from his mustache

hooking up with rooster after dating hangman

hangman walking in on you and bradley

bob x reader x rooster

rooster fucks hard

rooster takes care of his pregnant wife

werewolf!rooster

how rooster would act during your pregnancy

bradley + casual dominance

sugar daddy!rooster

bradley coaxes you out of subspace

bradley accompanies you to sephora

bradley loves your thick thighs

bradley's baby caroline comes to guys' night

bradley accidentally hurts you in a play-fight

bradley wears a compression shirt and you can't handle it

firefighter!rooster | 2

cuddling with bradley

rooster's an ass man

bradley likes making you blush

boxer!bradley

bradley loves touching you

bradley doesn't pull out in time

bradley gives you your first orgasm

mechanic!bradley (ft. the rest of the dagger squad)

bradley puts your toddler on trial

you go to a rage room with rooster and hangman

bradley's your period cramp heating pad

bradley x mitchell!reader

bradley tries pranking you

rooster meets your daughter

bradley zips you down, not up

you nearly kill bradley in your sleep

rooster's whipped for you

your daughter loves bradley

bradley + aftercare

bradley's drunk and tells you not to touch him because he's got a girlfriend

bradley's cake is a hit at the PTA bake sale

you don't know whether bradley or jake is the father

bottom!bradley

doctor!bradley

rooster has lots of daughters

you love having kids with rooster

bradley kills a bug for you

#rooster #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster x you #rooster x y/n #top gun #top gun x reader #top gun maverick #top gun maverick x reader

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jungle-angel · 8 months

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Show Me Your Firetrucks (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You, Bob, the Daggers and the kids get to experience an event in Bob's hometown that's been happening for the last 22 years

Notes: This fic is dedicated to the civilians and first responders of NYC, those who are still with us and those who were called home on that fateful day. To the firefighters, police and first responders, we are forever grateful for your service. (The music that inspired this fic can also be found here, I highly suggest listening to it while you read along).

Cheyenne Falls, Oklahoma

September, 2023

You and Bob were a little less than pleased at the prospects of having to get up so early, your children still at the age when they needed sleep and with them just having started school, which hadn't made anything easier.

Auggie and Patrick excitedly ran into the firehouse where Bob's brother, Sean and his teammates all worked. Both of them ran to their uncle who eagerly scooped them right up off the ground in a big hug.

"Uncle Seanie I ate a bug at school!!" Auggie exclaimed proudly.

"Oh did it taste like chicken?" he teased.

You laughed but Bob rolled his eyes. Typical of his older brother who had always told Bob that bugs tasted like chicken when he was little.

"Well hello, little brother of mine," Sean greeted rather cheerfully. "I see Auggie inherited the male line's shit eyesight."

"Yeah and that was only after he ran into the screen door and broke it two years ago," Bob chuckled.

You, Bob and Sean watched as Auggie and Patrick ran around the firehouse garage, wanting to try on the helmets, boots and jackets that were far too big for either of them. Sean's wife, Zoe, had come down the stairs from the loft just a few minutes later in a pair of ripped jeans and a navy blue t-shirt bearing an NYFD logo.

"Did we miss anything?" Natasha yawned as she walked in with her and Cole's son, Gabe.

"Nope, you haven't missed anything yet," Bob chirped.

"Good because I haven't had coffee yet and the ghoul is driving me crazy."

"Hey I'm going to the donut shop across the street for coffee, does anybody want anything?" Zoe announced.

Everyone put in their orders, including yourself and by the time Rooster, Rusty and the boys had all shown up with Baby Carrie in tow, Zoe was back with your orders.

"Looks like we've got some future firefighters in the family," Rooster remarked, adjusting four month old Carrie in his arms.

"Oof, I shudder at the thought," Bob answered.

Sean snorted and stifled a laugh but went stiff when Bob gave him the dreaded look as a warning not to say anything else.

"Alright, alright, alright!" Hangman announced loudly as he strode in with one twin girl on each of his hips. "I come bearing my trophies!!!!"

He set a giggling Missy and Molly both down on the concrete floors, their little sandaled feet flapping as they chased after their cousins. Mickey showed up with Isabella, Sebastian and Rodrigo some moments later, Coyote following with Paloma, Carla and Baby Tiago while Payback and Maverick were the last to arrive with their own kids and Amelia. Missy and Molly ran straight for Geneva and Neveah while TJ remained happily perched on his father's shoulders. Maverick's two little adopted ghouls were excited beyond words when they saw all the firetrucks and equipment on full display.

"I have never seen a bunch of kids so excited like this before," Sean chuckled as more people began to gather in the fire station.

"Doesn't even begin to describe it," Penny told him. "That's all they play with at home is toy firetrucks."

Everyone shared a few good laughs and caught up with each other over the coffee and donuts that Zoe had brought back. Soon, the whole station was almost full of people, some who were close to Bob and others who were just ordinary members of the community.

"Looks like it's gonna be a good ride this year, little brother," Sean remarked.

"I know," Bob chuckled as he sipped on the cinnamon flavored coffee. "We've got almost everybody in town here and more."

Sean nodded with a bit of a wistful look in his eyes, remembering Joe's two brothers, Stephen and Christopher who had been in New York, one a firefighter and the other a police sergeant. Though both had survived, Sean knew too well that there were others who had not been as lucky.

"Hey," Joe greeted happily as he strode up to his sons. "You two numbskulls ready? Michael's got ants in his pants from waiting in the police cruiser with the K-9."

"We'll get the kids ready Dad," Bob told him.

Joe and his sons both hugged each other tight. "This one's for your uncles," he croaked.

Bob met up with you and the kids to help get ready for the ride. "Am I gonna do good Daddy?" Auggie chirped.

"You will Auggie," Bob laughed, putting the much too large fire helmet on his son's head. "Just remember what Uncle Sean and Chief McKenzie tell you ok?"

Auggie nodded, pushing his glasses onto his nose as his little hands helped button the tiny little jacket that Chief Dan McKenzie had found for him and some of the other children who had come to join the ride.

Father Daly, the firehouse chaplain, led everyone present in a short prayer, giving the blessing for the ride, praying for the souls of the departed and those who were still in the line of work. When he had finished, the brass bell in the yard began to ring loudly, signaling for everyone to jump in the trucks.

"Bye Daddy, we'll see you later," Auggie chirped as Bob lifted him into the cab of the truck with Sean and Chief McKenzie.

"Bye buddy, I'll see you when we get to the city," Bob said, giving his son a kiss before the doors were shut.

You, Bob and the others each jumped into a truck, the kids all riding in the cabs or in the backs with the other firefighters. You gave each other a look, his hand gripping yours tightly as the trucks began to roll out of the station, the sirens going as soon as they were part of the way down the road.

You and Bob hung onto the back rails as the truck rolled down the road with the long line of firetrucks and police cars not far behind. The wind rushed through your hair as the procession rode through Cheyenne Falls, heading towards Oklahoma City. So many others from in and around town had come to stand on the streets, cheering everyone on and to show their support.

You and Bob had never experienced anything like this before, the exhilarating feeling filling you both from head to toe. Bob held your hand even tighter as you hung on, ready for the 110 miles into Oklahoma City, side by side with the man you loved.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #pete maverick mitchell #penny benjamin mitchell #amelia benjamin mitchell #bradley rooster bradshaw #natasha phoenix trace #mickey fanboy garcia #jake hangman seresin #javy coyote machado #reuben paybak fitch #bob floyd x reader #dagger squad

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redfurrycat · 7 months

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🐓🤠Not Navy - Still A Flyboy At Heart Fic Recs🤠🐓

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

*Any fic in which Jake/Bradley isn't a Navy Fighter Pilot, but is still connected to the sky somehow... Well, it's more what you’d call ‘guidelines’ than an actual rule... :P

Ao3 Authors: Haridwar, Nickies_Nonsense, ProtectingH_ngm_n, ReformedTsundere, SunMonTue, Sycamoretree.

Navy - Not A Pilot!Bradley Bradshaw > Navy - Not A Pilot!Jake Seresin

Take Off by ReformedTsundere {G}

/Flight Attendant!Jake/

Jake is what the man's name tag reads when Bradley is able to force his eyes down. And if he gets a little lost, mapping what contours of the man's chest he can see beneath his uniform, that's between Bradley and no one else. Except... maybe Jake too, because when Bradley forces his eyes back up, the blonde is smirking, all amused. It's the kind of look someone has when they know they're attractive and are aware the person staring is thinking that same.

Wildfire by sycamoretree {E}

/Temporary Aerial Firefighters!Jake & Bradley/

Jake and Bradley are on a mission to beat a wildfire by aerial firefighting. But what dangers lie ahead?

we met and you claimed me by haridwar {M}

/Commercial Pilot!Bradley/

it seemed so natural, darling, that you and I are here

“Did we really do this?” Bradley asked. It was the first thing he had said since Jake’s brainwave and Jake was not a fan of how upset he sounded. “Are we- did we get married?” or: what happens in Vegas...

Second Chance by Nickies_Nonsense {T}

/Commercial Pilot!Bradley & ATC Operator!Jake/

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw leaves the US Navy after the mission with the daggers and starts a second career as a commercial airline pilot with Southwest Airlines. Little does he know that the Air Traffic Control operator Jake Seresin is about to become the most interesting part of his new job, drag Bradley out of his depression, and firmly implant himself into Bradley's new life whether he likes it or not - spoiler, he likes it.

You need to learn how to fall by SunMonTue {E}

/Skydiving Instructor!Bradley/

Bradley keeps growing past the 6'5" limit of being a naval aviator, Maverick lets out an internal sigh of relief. He's not going to be the one responsible for stopping Bradley from becoming a pilot. However, because karma is a cruel mistress, Bradley becomes a sky diver, specialising in spin recovery. Mav will never understand why his godson continually jumps out of perfectly good planes. Later Bradley's level of skill is such that he becomes a civilian contractor to the Airforce and Navy to teach pilots how to survive parachute spins from ejections. The Airforce contact Bradley first, it annoys Ice to no end.

Requesting clearance (to fall in love) by ProtectingH_ngm_n {G}

/Captain!Bradley & First Officer!Jake/

The first time was an accident. The second time was a coincidence. The third time was luck and the fourth time was planned. A fic with Captain Bradley Bradshaw and First Officer Jake Seresin

#Not Navy - Still A Flyboy At Heart Recs List #hangster #sereshaw #hangaroo #bradley rooster bradshaw x jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #🐈red🐈furry🐈cat🐈tag🐈

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sarahsmi13s · 1 year

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Top Gun Universe

I DO NOT consent to any of my work being copied or translated

⚠ AUTHORS NOTE!! PLEASE READ!! ⚠

this masterlist is the old masterlist! all of the links still work though!

you can find the "remastered" or the "reboot" of this masterlist here!

TOP GUN UNIVERSE

Top Gun:

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin-

‘J and S’ Universe (jake seresin x sarah grant) -- oc series

Find Peace in the Changing Colors (jake x fempilot!reader) -- angst

Hesitation (jake x fempilot!reader) -- angst 18+ MDNI

Sirens vs Soulmates (jake x floyd!hunter!reader) -- smut and angst 18+ MDNI

You Better Not Die (jake x actress!reader)

‘Tell Them’ Universe (jake x wife!reader)

Natural Disasters (jake x reader) -- angst

Good Pups Get Rewarded (jake x reader) -- smut 18+ MDNI

Deep Cover Uncovered (jake x undercover!ncis agent reader) -- two part fic coming soon

You're Not Dying, Not Today || pt 1 pt 2 (jake x firefighter!reader) -- firefighter!au -- angst

Baking Playlists -- (jake x pilot!reader) for Rocktober

sunsets on the beach (a moodboard)

hometown hero (a moodboard)

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw-

Picture Perfect Tattoos (bradley x tattoo artist!reader)

Footloose (bradley x fem!pilot!reader)

‘Duckie’ Universe (bradley x twin sister!reader)

Didn’t Like Me That Much (ex!bradley x reader) -- angst

‘Bring Her Home, Bradshaw’ Universe (agent!bradley x mitchell!reader)

90′s Bradley (a moodboard)

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd-

Rodeo (bob x pilot!reader)

‘A Pair of Glasses and a Scope’ Universe (bob x marine!reader) -- coming soon

"you're more than a one night stand" (bob x bartender!reader)

Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado -

coming at some point

Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia -

coming at some point

Reuben ‘Payback’ Fitch -

coming at some point

Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace -

soft dreamy nat (a moodboard)

The Dagger Squad -

‘Lieutenant Rogers’ Universe

Rookie

Feuds are Stupid -- monster!au

Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell -

"would you just shut up and kiss him already” (pete x simpson!reader)

Beau ‘Cyclone’ Simpson -

coming at some point

Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky -

"is there a reason you're naked in my bed?" (tom x kerner!reader) -- smut

Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw -

coming at some point

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hc-geralt-23 · 3 months

Text

Love Amidst Harsh Truths

Warnings: This story contains elements of violence, emotional distress, and injury.

---

You've been traveling alongside Joel Miller and Ellie for months now, forming an unbreakable bond and facing all the hardship the post-apocalyptic world had to offer. What was once companionship gradually transformed into something deeper, something both of you were hesitant to admit: love.

The journey to Jackson was filled with anticipation; it was a haven, a chance at a normal life for you both. As you approached the town, a mix of emotions welled up inside you. Excitement, relief, and a tinge of anxiety; you knew something had to change between you and Joel, and this was your opportunity.

As you entered the well-guarded gates, Ellie quickly spotted her brother Tommy, and with a pang of unease, you wondered if Joel would still be a part of your life after this. You couldn't imagine being separated from him after all you had been through.

Joel's voice rang out clearly as he pulled Tommy aside, asking him to smuggle him and Ellie to the Fireflies. Your heart dropped, witnessing Joel's desperation to fulfill his promise to Ellie's mother, knowing it could potentially tear your newfound happiness apart.

Nervously, you exchanged glances with Ellie, silently pleading her to stay, to choose the life of safety and warmth offered by Jackson. It was then, to your surprise and heartache, that Ellie chose to leave that very night.

As the night sky swallowed Ellie and Tommy, silence coated the air between you and Joel. Finally, you dared to break it, "Joel, we should go after them. We can protect them and bring them back safely."

Joel's eyes bore into you, a mixture of anger and disappointment mingling within them. "Are you out of your goddamn mind? We can't risk it, not after what happened to Sarah. Ellie's choice was clear."

His words stung like a thousand daggers, tears pooling in your eyes. Your relationship with Joel had grown so much, but now it felt fragile and about to shatter. Swallowing your pain, you took a deep breath, accepting the situation.

"If you won't go after her, I will. I won't leave her alone out there," you uttered, determination flickering through your voice. You had faith that Joel would eventually come to his senses and join you.

Days passed, and the search for Ellie and Tommy was intense. You had reached your destination but paid a dear price. During an ambush by a group of desperate survivors, you were attacked, the blunt edge of a bat striking you across the abdomen before chaos engulfed the firefight.

Waking up in a dimly lit room, pain coursing through your body, you found yourself in a makeshift infirmary. Tommy had finally realized your departure and brought Joel to your side, the worry creasing their expressions evident.

"Damn it, Y/N. Why would you be so foolish," Joel whispered softly, a rare vulnerability piercing his words. "I can't lose you."

His words, filled with genuine emotion, melted away the pain of his previous harshness. You reached out weakly, your voice hoarse with struggle, "Joel, we need to find Ellie. The Fireflies... they can help me, too."

In that moment, Joel's face softened, his gaze locking with yours. "Y/N, if you're willing to fight for both of them, then so am I. I can't deny my feelings any longer, not when it's risking the lives of those I care about."

Days turned into weeks as you both ventured onward, determined to rescue Ellie. The journey was treacherous, but your love for each other provided strength and resilience. When you finally reached the Fireflies, relentless gunfire ensued, but you fought side by side, protecting one another with unwavering devotion.

In your final struggle, the rescue mission completed, you collapsed, weak and wounded, against Joel's chest. Blood trickled from your injuries, a bitter reminder of the sacrifice and love entwined within these battles.

As you lay there, Joel cradling you with anguish etched into his features, he whispered brokenly, "Y/N, I can't imagine a life without you. You've shown me what it means to love again."

With tears streaming down your face, you weakly reached up and cupped his cheek. "I love you too, Joel, more than words can express. We survived this together, and we'll continue surviving together."

With that affirmation, Joel pressed his lips against yours, a promise sealed in that tender, heartfelt kiss. Now, finally embracing your feelings, you both knew that the trials you had faced had only strengthened the love you would cherish forever.

Together, you made your way back to Jackson, hand in hand, embracing the promise of a new beginning, a future built on trust, love, and the scars that reminded you of the bonds forged through life's darkest moments.

And so, amidst adversity, your love story had found its happy ending, a beacon of light in a world shrouded in shadows.

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x you #joel the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #tlou joel #joel miller the last of us

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happy-beeeps · 1 year

Note

Hi again :) could I request Rex X reader where reader comes back from a mission gone wrong and Anakin scolds her and then Rex sees her crying?

Hi lovie! SO sorry this took so long! I hope you love it!!! Rex is an angel as per usual and Anakin is an ass but we love him for it. TCW Anakin is one of my favorite platonic characters to characterize because he’s just so tragic in a way that makes him so fun to work with.

Little Brothers

WC: 1k

Warnings: none! Angst and injury but it’s quick and resolved this is a hurt comfort fic!

A/N: We meet my two clone OC’s in this chapter! I’m going to expand on them later, but they’re part of the 811th battalion, led by Commander Leo (who rivals only Hunter with his mane of thick hair) and ARC Trooper Bubble (the last to pass his swim test following a traumatic incident with the pool as a cadet.)

* * *

“I just don’t know how you could be so irresponsible!” Anakin bites, anger written plainly across his face. It’s one of the things you appreciate about your friend, he seems to be the only other person in the Jedi to really let you have it when you deserve it.

And kriff, do you deserve it.

It was supposed to be a simple mission, slip into a low guarded base quickly and quietly, extract the necessary information on the munitions factory nearby, and leave. You had a small squad of your men, the 811th. It was supposed to be quick and easy, Commander Leo had made quick work of locating the central computer, and his second in command, a spirited, down for anything trooper named Bubbles, was watching your flank, along with about five other men. It was supposed to be easy.

And then you saw the hostages. Not many of them, maybe about four, and none of them eager for your help. Turns out, they were other separatists caught in a territory battle with the owners of the munitions factory, and were cautious at best about being helped by a Jedi. You and Leo restrategized and sent a smaller squad of men while you two and Bub worked to free the hostages. It wasn’t an entire failure, the separatist civilians made it home to their families which counted as a win in your book. The chaos that the 811th can bring, however, coupled with the added attention from the hostages, resulted in a firefight that gave away your squad’s position in the base and landed one of your men in the medbay. You retreated efficiently, sans plans. And so you find yourself back aboard the Resolute, arguing with Anakin.

“So you would have just let them die?” You huff back, hands firm on your hips.

“They were not on the mission. You should’ve commed for backup, it’s not like we weren’t on system.”

“Oh please, Anakin, I’ve known you long enough to know that you don’t listen to ‘suggestions,’” you draw heavy air quotations around the word, “from anyone but yourself.”

“I would if it was important, which, in this case it wasn’t. They didn’t want our help. You should know better.”

“Master, I really think she-” Ahsoka starts, but Anakin shoots her a look that wills her into silence. She’s seen the two of you fight like this before, and she knows better than to interject.

“General, the General has a point, I can easily take responsibility-” and it’s your turn to bring a hand up in front of Leo’s face, silencing him. The two accomplices look at each other and send a look, waiting for this to escalate further.

“Stop treating me like I don’t know what I’m doing, I know what I’m doing,” You respond, shooting daggers at Anakin.

“Exactly. Which is why you should’ve known better and not endangered your men, isn’t one of them in the medbay right now?”

And there it is, the winning blow. You look at him with wide eyes and you can tell even he regrets it by the way his breathing has shifted, but he refuses to back down.

“Don’t hold the injuries of my men over me, Skywalker, at least I don’t use my Commander as a projectile!” You shout, hands in the air as you storm out of the briefing room towards your quarters, hot tears burning down your face and making your vision blurry. You don’t even notice Rex walking past you, his eyes shifting worriedly between yourself, Anakin, and Leo.

* * *

You don’t hear the sound of the door hiss open over your own hiccups. You’ve got your back to the door and you’re furiously typing on your datapad, blowing up Bub’s comm trying to get more intel on the injured trooper. The door shuts behind you with a resounding click, and your hiccups turn to sniffles, until you see him. Rex is quick and deliberate with his movements, grabbing the datapad out of your hand and setting it down on the small desk near your bed, before pulling you up and into his chest. The sobs return, and he’s holding you so tight on a normal day you’d be punching his chest for air.

“He’s fine,” Rex murmurs into your hair, holding your cheeks between his hands and swiping away the excess tears. “I stopped and talked to Leo and Bubble, he’s fine. In fact, he’ll probably be thanking you, the 811th is going for leave next.”

You sniff in response, “I don’t like being responsible for hurting your brothers.”

Rex smooths your hair and gives you a warm smile, “You and I both know you’ve got probably the most compassion for clones of any natborn we know. You did the right thing. Leo’s got a good head on his shoulders, he knows how to care for you and his vod. He wouldn’t let you put yourselves in danger. I trust him with your life, that says enough.”

Your cheeks bloom under the sentiment. “Would you have done it?” “Sure. If the roles had been swapped the same thing probably would’ve happened.” He moves to sit down on your bed, it’s tiny so the two of you are squished against one another. “Course, I would’ve called for reinforcements, and you and the 811th would’ve been there to save our asses.”

You sigh and crane your neck to look at him. “Thanks, for always being there for me. Anakin just knows how to hit where it hurts everytime.”

He chuckles, “Cody is the same to me. It’s just how brothers are.”

“But he’s not my brother.”

“Isn’t he though? I thought you guys were younglings together.”

He’s not wrong, and you shrug. “Sure, Master Ti and Master Kenobi got along, I feel like I was always training with him. But,” you bring up a hand, “I’m older.”

“Right, so you’re just his Cody.” He sets his head down on your shoulder. “There’s always gonna be problems with your vod. But you just have to do what’s right to you.”

His words settle around you and warm your heart and your conscience, and you melt into him more. “So you think I did the right thing?”

“Yeah, like I said, we’d do the same thing,” and his voice is a whisper in your ear, “though I heard you don’t like his use of projectiles.”

You gasp, and spin towards him as best you can, voice rising “You could get hurt-”

And he cuts you off with a kiss. “As always, my verd’ika.”

#captain rex x f!reader #captain rex x reader #captain rex request #rex x reader #clone trooper rex #captain rex #commander rex #requests

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t-nd-rfoot · 1 year

Text

No thoughts, just Dagger Squad, but make them firefighters

#top gun maverick #dagger squad

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simiansmoke · 1 year

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Bees and Birds - 🐝🦜 [DK x Mario]

followed up from the fic Slow Burn, and the following 'follow up post' that bridges Slow Burn and Bees and Birds together.

There was some hesitance in their meeting. It's more than likely because of how awkward things became after DK basically trashed a bar mid drunken-make out. The bartender was a friend of a cousin of his, so he'd committed to helping them recover anything lost from his and Mario's rampage inside their establishment.

If it was up to DK, he would have opted out of ever seeing the plumber again inside the Jungle Kingdom, but Cranky needed some assistance with a pest problem. And for some reason, his Dad didn't want him going alone to eradicate it this time. Something about killer hornet stings being extra lethal to Kongs or whatever. He didn't get that part.

As he padded alongside Mario through the jungle, the silence between them stung worse than any hornet. Awkwardness at its finest.

"So..." Mario began, rubbing the back of his neck as if to mop up a line of sweat brought on by the humidity.

"...so." His voice was blunt, matter of fact, and not amused by the opening line that he refused to entertain himself.

It was a few extra miles down the trail of agonizing silence, shifting eyes and tight throats that DK almost welcomed the buzz from the hornet nest halfway up the banana tree.

"Dunno why Dad asked you to come along. A little old bee's nest is nothing for me." He grinned, happy to leave the stagnant conversation in favor of clambering up the side of the banana palm.

"DK - wait! Cranky said that..." But whatever Cranky had said to Mario, apparently he didn't get a chance to tell DK because the adamant Kong was set on knocking that nest into space with the speed he was at while racing up the trunk.

Once near the top of the fronds, DK paused to glance down at the plumber who'd set a helpless glance upon him. Yeah, stay that way - he thought, reaching up to give the nest a punch. It sailed away, sentenced to break into a few thousand honey-soaked pieces when the largest hornet he'd seen hovered up to his nose with an angry buzz.

"DK!" Mario had started his climb now, closing the distance between them quickly as the hornet buzzed around the Kong's head, readying its stinger.

"Bring it, Dagger-Butt!" DK growled, fully prepared to swat the bug away when Mario grabbed his foot and slammed him to the ground. A few dizzying moments later, he looked up to see the plumber sliding own the palm's trunk like a firefighter down a pole, sans the bee.

"What...?"

Once at the bottom with sand under his feet, Mario shot the prince a vicious gaze. "I dunno if your dad failed to mention this but ... you and practically every Kong on the island are allergic to those bees."

If he believed him, DK didn't show it. "Sure, and Koopas can fly-"

"...DK, plenty of them can."

"Shut up! I didn't mean THEM." His breathing rate had surged with the rage in his reply, but it was mostly for show...for who, he wasn't sure yet. It was important enough to him to keep his chest high. "Anyway, why not just tell me that to start with?" Well, what Dad should have told him, anyway.

"Would you have believed me?"

"Hell n-"

It's the sideways lean of the plumber forcing his shoulder into the trunk, arms crossed and brow raised in his direction that causes DK to relent with a huff. "OK, I see your point." And thanks to Mario, he didn't get the bee's...point that is.

Mario's eyes drifted around the canopy for a moment as if taking in the density of the patch of jungle they'd ended up in. It's the sort of seclusion he didn't see much of in a busy city. "So, you ready to talk about..." He paused, gaze shifting to assess his company's energy - which was nothing short of its usual chaos, maybe with a bit more stiffness mixed in. "...the other night-"

It takes DK a solid second or two to deeply inhale the honey-laced air to silence the instinct in him to insult Mario and run off as a long time solution to this sticky situation he'd caused. Instead, he turns around to face Mario-well...look down at him anyway. To steady himself he placed a giant palm against the tree trunk, directing it directly above Mario's hat. "What about it?" Try as he might, he couldn't completely chase the challenge out of his tone; it was his only defense.

In the shadow of DK's arm, Mario peeked around the fur up at the Kong. "Well, you left in sucha hurry, I was just wondering if everything was...all right with you?"

Leave it to Mario to tip toe around the elephant in the room. No, not even a room...a whole jar, and the plumber would still ignore it crammed in there like it was an ant in a whole ass jungle.

"Oh, is that all? For a second there, I thought you were gonna tell me what a freak you feel like for enjoying all of that." Yeah, that sounded about right...to him anyway. Wondering how far he'd missed the mark, DK leaned over to get a glimpse of Mario's expression hidden under his forearm's shade. Apparently not shady enough since the plumber's face looked like it had caught a case of instantaneous sunburn.

"Uh...Mario?"

When he noticed DK peeking in at him curiously, then having the nerve to smirk at his predicament, Mario attempted to cover a portion of his face with a gloved hand. Just cooling it down with his palm...which may have worked if his hands weren't hot and sweaty inside their prison too. "Mio dio! You don't have to put it like that."

Feeling like he now had the upper-hand in the shame train, DK kept the smirk on his face as he played a little game of leaning to either side of his arm that Mario tried to shift towards and hide. "Then I guess you wouldn't mind telling me..." Scooting his palm down to beside Mario's ear when he grew bored of the chase, DK leaned in enough to disturb the other's hair with his great breaths surging out. "...where should I put it?"

There was hardly a solution or quip Mario could give him, and the proximity of that stupid, smug, sore winner's face that DK was giving him drilled the fact in even more. He could punch him, but that seemed to him to be giving DK what he wanted...which was also a loss in the grand scheme of gaining the high ground. Besides, the urge to clock him in the jaw was accompanied with something else - little sparks that had caused that massive explosion back at the bar. They're tickling his stomach and maybe it's the humidity, but the combination makes his bones feel like lukewarm butter.

"Where should I put it~?" DK asked again, a little more smug with every moment of silence that stretched between them.

Closing the distance with a glove once he'd moved it off his face, the plumber placed the palm of his hand flat against the confused Kong's cheek. "Ok, ok..." His hand slid down to grasp DK's jaw and guide the infuriating idiot's face to the heat in his while his free hand grasped the end of a red tie for an idle play thing. Hovering close to the other's lips, Mario adds "-put it here, pal."

There was little time for him to sputter as the heat in Mario's face infected his at such a close proximity. Well...if that's where he was supposed to 'put it', then he would put it there. Bracing his enormous weight against his palm beside Mario's head, he crashed the molten surfaces of their faces together and rocked their lips into a rough battle.

The jungle was quiet with an occasional murmur of wind through the canopy fronds, so the heartbeat in their ears set the pace to where neither knew if the sound they heard was of their body, or the other's.

DK was definitely the lead though - the player 1 that decided when little breaks of shaky air inhalation were necessary, and even then they were accompanied with teeth clacking in an attempt to keep some sort of connection until they'd refilled their lungs.

Mario had almost wrapped the whole tie around his fist by the time DK reached around with his free hand to scoop up under the seat of Mario's pants and lift him up closer so neither had to strain so much and so Mario had room to grab fur, dig a knee into DK's chest, and shudder once separated from the furious throes of their lips' battle.

Both stared at one another, sharing only pants and desperate bids for air. Both with faces stained with the same crimson contagion. From somewhere off in the trees, the call of a bird brought the world back into focus.

"...you good?" Mario inquired finally, a hint of a smile worming its way between them.

"I'm-...whatever you are right now." DK answered, a low laugh escaping him. "But better."

#//welp i did it - i wrote the follow up fic #//i dont think it holds up to the 1st but he y closure #pg-13 #donkey kong #donkario #donkey kong x mario

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heyitsthatgirl · 1 year

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Chenford ❤️ Lucy freaks out about being with Tim

Eleven slices of cake sat between the three women. Eleven somewhat identical slices of cake. One had raspberry filling, apparently. Another had lavender buttercream. But all were decorated in white piping and placed on plates adorned with bridal-white doilies. The bakery was a trendy little place with big bright windows that overlooked a courtyard below, a cafe taking up the space with quaint tables and ivy that twisted and crawled up every available surface. Definitely the kind of place that was still a ways off from her patrol salary, but definitely not out of reach for the bride-to-be and her once-contractor-turned-T.O. fiancé.

Bailey was hemming and hawing at the moment between the passionfruit creme and white chocolate chai cakes, neither of which they thought the woman would end up choosing, seeing as how she had been deliberating between the slices for almost forty minutes and had made little to no progress. Apparently, Bailey had asked a few of her co-workers to come along on this very important decision-making expedition, but all had declined. Which meant that Nolan had come begging Angela and Lucy to go with her, since his girlfriend was kind of light on female besties. It took Angela a bribe of a bottle of Herradura to come along, but Lucy had agreed because she genuinely felt sorry for Bailey. She knew that it was hard to open yourself up to other people after a traumatic experience, so she stepped up to the plate. Because, at the end of the day, she was grateful for the people in her life who had been there for her when she needed. So, she would do the same for someone else if she could.

And also: free cake.

“I just can’t decide!” Bailey said, throwing her hands up and letting the fork clang down on the plate, a runaway piece of frosting flinging across the mahogany tabletop. “I like the chai, but it’s not very traditional.”

“So get the chai.” Angela responded, tone even but somewhat threatening. They’d been through this whole song and dance a few times already this afternoon, and the detective was running low on patience.

“Lucy, what do you think?” The other woman asked, hopeful optimism shining in her eyes. Lucy felt her hackles go up as Angela shot her daggers, threatening her to dare and disagree with her and continue this never-ending cake-tasting.

“Oh, I uh,” she stammered, grabbing her own fork and taking another small taste of the cake, “Oh yeah, the chai really is great, Bailey.”

“Really? It’s not too… Out-there for a wedding cake?”

“It’s your second wedding,” Angela deadpanned as she rested her cheek on her fist, “Second weddings can be a little more fun.”

“Right,” Lucy began hesitantly, noticing the way Bailey tensed up, “Why don’t you take your two favorites home with you, and have John cast the winning vote?”

“Yeah, maybe,” she mused, looking back toward the counter where the shop owner was finishing up a sale, “I’ll go and ask if that’s okay.”

“Great.” Angela muttered as Bailey jumped up and made her way across the bakery to the counter. Lucy used this opportunity to smack her gently on the arm. “Ow. What?”

“This is important to her!” She said, keeping her voice low enough that Bailey couldn’t hear her. “At least try to pretend to be interested.”

“I was interested. Ten cakes ago. And why couldn’t her fiance be here anyway, isn’t this like, a couples thing?”

Lucy just gave her an annoyed glare, “Because he wanted her to try to hang out with someone beside him or a bunch of firefighters. I don’t think she has a lot of girlfriends.”

“Just get the yellow cake, it’s what everyone expects anyway,” she sighed, poking a half-eaten slice with her fork, “I didn’t even get to eat my wedding cake.”

The statement wasn’t sad, more matter-of-fact, but made Lucy’s heart clench all the same. Some memories would always be a little more painful when she was forced back to them. “Want me to get you a slice?” She asked through a kind smile, and Angela winced, as if the thought alone was going to make her hurl.

“That’s sweet, Lucy,” she said, swallowing down a gag, “But if I look at another piece of wedding cake I’m going to lose it. In any case, once Wesley and I got settled after Guatemala, we went to Ralphs and got a small birthday cake. We even froze a piece for our one-year and everything.”

“Stop,” Lucy said with a grin, holding back her giggles, “That’s so freaking cute!”

Both women looked over at Bailey who was chatting away with the shop owner and mulling over the variety of cakes again, and Angela just let a huge sigh go, “This woman is hopeless.”

“She’s happy,” Lucy countered, looking back to Angela, who still leaned on her fist, looking bored as ever. “If I were her, I’d be just as excited and meticulous.”

“I bet,” she snickered before softening, “Do you think you’ll be like this, though? All bridezilla?”

“She’s not being a bridezilla,” Lucy argued, but Angela just gave her a look and she rolled her eyes, “Okay, she’s a little bit of a bridezilla. But, anyway, I’m… We’re… We’re definitely not there.”

“I get it,” Angela said with a growing smile, attempting to hide it by taking a sip of her champagne, “But, you’ve thought about it, right? Cause, you know, Tim wants all that traditional stuff. Wife, kids, house with the white picket fence. All that nuclear family American dream crap.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lucy said with a laugh, twisting idly at the stem of her glass, “I mean, he mentioned it a few times when we were on patrol together.”

“But you haven’t talked about it as a couple?” Angela seemed a little more invested in the conversation now, scooting herself a hair closer to her.

“I mean, no not really… But,” she bit her bottom lip and tried to re-focus the conversation, “We’ve only been dating a few months. I don’t think we need to start planning out our kids’ college tuition quite yet.” Lucy suddenly felt her face go red hot, flushing crimson as she heard herself say, out loud, ‘our kids’ Because, sure. Chatting about a nebulous future where you may have kids someday, while riding together on patrol is a little different than openly admitting and verbalizing the actual concept of having children together. And the weight of the thought hit her like a semi truck.

“How many?” Angela pressed, seemingly picking up on Lucy’s epiphany. “Kids. How many do you think you want?”

“I… I don't know.” She suddenly, desperately wished the server would make a reappearance with the bottle of champagne. “I mean, we're not even living together yet.”

“Come on,” Angela groaned, inching closer, “Don't tell me you haven't thought about it. What your life is going to look like in two, three, five years time. Not to like, freak you out, but from what I can tell, the both of you are serious about this. So, what's the hold up?”

“Sure, I guess,” Lucy glanced up at Bailey as she now was scrolling through her phone, showing the woman behind the counter her wedding pinterest board and gushing about the ceremony she had planned. “I mean, eventually I’ll probably move in with him.”

“And? Come on, Lucy. Use that imagination of yours.”

“It’s a little scary, okay?” She bit back, but there was no venom in it. And she sighed, “Sorry, it’s just… It took a lot of shit to get us to this point. And, sure we want the same things… Marriage, kids, dog, house. But I think we’re both so worried about screwing this up, or moving too fast… We both know each other so well, what if we are bad at it? You know like, what if we don’t know how to be a good couple?”

“It seems to me like you guys are doing fine,” she said, her brow furrowing just a little, “Unless you’re not. Are you fighting or…?”

“No!” She quickly corrected, maybe a little too loudly, and looked around worriedly at the rest of the bakery where people happily ignored her outburst, and she turned back to Angela, “No. It’s nothing like that. We’re solid. He’s… Honestly, the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. We communicate. Make time for each other. Respect each other’s privacy and boundaries. And, you know, the sex is pretty good.”

“Oh, God, please,” Angela begged, her face screwing up into a disgusted wince, “You can spare me those details, Lucy! Honestly.”

“Sorry,” she laughed, “It’s more like, everything feels like it’s going so great…”

“You feel like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop?” She asked, and Lucy nodded her head slowly. “I get it. You are kind of wondering, when are his skeletons going to fall out of the closet? But, Lucy,” Angela laughed, her hand settling on hers and gave it a gentle tap, “Tim Bradford is the most vanilla guy I know. And you’ve ridden with him long enough to know all his secrets. Isabel’s addiction. His issues with his father. At the end of the day, you already know who you’ve got.”

She was right, of course. Tim was an open book these days, far from the walled-off, broken man who had stolen her service belt or made her walk outside the shop. There’d always be a little bit of a hard edge to Tim Bradford, but finally getting to the point where he was open and without barriers, she knew Angela was right about his deep, dark secrets. And maybe that wasn’t even it— maybe she was more afraid of being the one to screw things up. She didn’t exactly have a great track record with men either. But she knew things were different, things were right this time. So, she took another sip of her champagne and let the worries and fears tuck away in her subconscious, safe and sound for now.

“She really should just pick the chai,” Lucy finally said, taking another bite of the mangled slice of cake. “I mean, I would have gone for the lemon poppyseed, but that’s me.”

“You think I should go with lemon?” Bailey asked, stunned, as she approached the table with a to-go box. Angela quickly turned her glare on Lucy, who just winced as she set her fork down and gave both women an apologetic and pained smile.

“Should I order us another round of drinks?”

Thank you so much for the prompt! I enjoyed this a lot, and hope that, while I took a slightly different take with this, it still was what you were looking for. Writing prompts are currently open. If your prompt is not answered, it's nothing personal, we may just have different ideas.

#chenford #chenford fic #chenford fanfiction #chenford fanfic #lucy x tim #the rookie #catherine writes

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wraithsoutlaws · 8 months

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brain chose violence last night

i was having very sadboy thoughts last night about dagger and dum dum's future because they get their happy ending and leave nc together and settle in nevada where they live (mostly) peaceful yet chaotic lives running a horror circus and they're allowed to get old and spend every day together and its lovely but what happens when one of them. dies :) and i think if dum dum died first, dagger would undoubtedly charge headfirst into the nearest gang land and start a firefight to die in combat like he always wanted back when he was young and had nothing to lose and zero fear because it's easier than being Alone and Sad but ofc dum dum KNOWS thats his plan and one night under the stars half drunk they talk about it and he tells dagger very explicitly that he can't do that. if something happened he can't just go off in a warzone and end in a hail of bullets anymore because al exists and al lost everything once before and she needs dagger so he better not bitch out like that. (i also hc that dum dum grew up an orphan in nc without family so it's something he's a bit soft for and he takes it very seriously)

and dagger doesn't want to talk about this because his main coping mechanism after all these years is basically still avoidance and he gets pissy and they drop it and he doesn't have to think about it again anymore until something does happen and he's alone and he all he wants to do is go scorched earth because it's too much! it's too much not to have his best friend and soulmate and it was never supposed to be like that anyway he was supposed to die a long time ago with blood in his mouth and no attachments and that was always good enough but somewhere along the way that changed and he didn't even really notice it. and now there's al.

so he doesn't do anything except sit at the grave with all his stupid feelings smoking cigarettes and sometimes yelling at dum dum because it's his fault it all hurts so much and he's angry and after a while he lets himself be sad and sometimes he's there all day and al will come out and bring him something to eat and sit with him in the quiet just so he has some company and he gets to remember why he's still here and its hard but he knows they both need it

well it's a good thing none of that has to exist :) but it's a bittersweet thought. i just love the idea of these two violent gangers who spent their lives killing anyone in their way growing old peacefully together and finding out what their happiness is and actually just enjoying the day to day life of it all. and i get to rotate them in that silly little paradise forever without canonizing anyone's death UwU (but what if...)

#sadboy hours about the blorboys but not like. sad sad just like What If sad #thinking thoughts can be dangerous !!!!!#x: perfect drug

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shinsoup · 1 year

Text

hate you less

☆summary☆ bakugo and you are mortal enemies, accidentally showing up in matching costumes to a mutual friend’s halloween party.

☆warnings☆ language, NOT PROOF READ because i’m lazy!!!, eh probably more. had such a strong start but i got lazy :(

☆word count☆735

he was wearing khakis and firemen boots, red suspenders the only ‘clothing’ covering his upper half and a red firemen hat to top it all off.

he felt like a man whore. well- that was close to what the costume was named.

‘sexy fireman.’

“you’re already in it, bakubro!” kirishima said, putting on the iconic devil horns before sending a grin at the angry blonde, “all the babes will be over you!”

“whatever,” he grumbled, grabbing his fake axe and storming past kirishima and denki.

the 1A girls were throwing a halloween party and made it mandatory that everyone invited wears a costume.

bakugo thought it was lame, of course, but when he heard booze would be present, it swayed him into saying yes.

what he didn’t know of course is that you would be there. you were in 1A yes, but he thought you were a loser with no friends.

of course that wasn’t true. bakugo just didn’t like you and was filled with rage every time you were even mentioned.

you were the only person, beside stupid deku, who was even close to over taking bakugo.

you were smart, strong, bold. you didn’t take shit from anyone. and that’s what made him mad.

who the fuck did you think you were?

everyone showed up to momo’s parents house, her mother and father being out for the weekend and letting their little daughter have a fun ‘get to together.’

“you guys made it!” ochako beamed, the pink cheeked girl wearing cat ears and a tail, a black bodysuit hugging her body perfectly.

momo and tsu showed everyone the drinks along with the food, smiles on the students faces as they interacted with one another.

“y/n! nice costume!” deku’s ‘annoying’ voice rang in bakugos ears, causing the blonde to scoff and roll his eyes-

wait. did broccoli head just say y/n?

bakugo’s eyes snapped towards the direction of the conversation, his red eyes landing on you immediately.

you were wearing a fucking dalmatian costume.

bakugo could feel himself heat up, his hands bawling into fists as sparks emitted from them.

you wear wearing the tiniest black skirt he’s ever seen, a homemade white and black spots tube top just barely covering your tits.

you had dog ears that flopped down and a black drawn on nose.

“thanks, deku! i like your costume too!” y/n smiled sweetly, causing bakugo to practically snarl as he stormed over to you.

“y/l/n! what the fuck do you think you’re wearing?!” he practically barked in your face, causing you to step back as your eyebrows furrowed together.

“a dalmatian costume?” you hesitatingly responded, sounding unsure and like you were asking a question.

“fucking change! can’t you see i’m a firefighter???”

“that’s what that eyesore is?”

bakugo felt like his head exploded, steam practically shooting from his ears as kirishima was quick to grab him.

“alright! that’s enough with you two!” he sweetly smiled as he dragged the angry pomeranian away.

“who the fuck does she think she is!” he barked at the poor red headed boy, causing him to sigh in annoyance.

“you guys need to kiss or something already, i can cut the sexual tension with a knife.”

bakugo’s ears perked up as his face went bright red, “I DON’T LIKE HER!”

“yeah keep telling yourself that.”

the night went by painfully slow for bakugo, the blonde staring at you every chance he got, shooting daggers with his eyes.

“bro just ask her out already!” denki said, lightly nudging him as he tsked loudly.

“fuck that, i’d rather throw myself off of a cliff befo-”

“hey guys!” mina said, making her way over as she waved sweetly.

“we’re about to play beer pong and need people, want to join?”

bakugo scoffed and looked away, trying to find you again but failed too as deku spoke up.

“sure, mina! what’re the teams?” he asked.

“teams of two, we can be partners if you want? that just leaves y/n alone—but i think shoto was going to be with her-”

“i’ll play” bakugo said quicker than he would’ve liked, causing denki to smirk and kirishima to chuckle—causing bakugo to punch him in the shoulder.

bakugo stood next to you as mina and deku set up the game, an annoyed look sketched onto your face at having to be with bakugo.

sure he was hot, everyone knew that, but he was a dick.

you wouldn’t take it personally if he treated you like everyone else—which would still be shitty—but he treated you like you were the scum of the earth.

he treated you with hatred.

“alright! whoever clears the other teams cups first wins!” mina announced as she rolled the balls over to you.

“don’t fuck up,” bakugo mumbled but you brushed it off, stepping in front of him to throw your shot.

you tossed it over but failed as you watched it hit the rim and fly to the floor, a frown on your face.

“since when are you not useless?”

“shut it, bakugo,” you practically hissed, moving back to your spot but not before hitting his shoulder with yours.

deku threw the ball back over and surprisingly made it in, a look of surprise on his face as bakugo cursed him out.

bakugo quickly went to grab the cup but accidentally knocked it over, causing it to spill all over your skirt and down to your shoes.

“shit!” you cursed, quickly stepping out to avoid the liquid but were to slow.

bakugo’s eyes widened before narrowing, a scoff leaving his lips as he crossed his arms.

“maybe if you weren’t always in the fucking way-”

“maybe if you weren’t so fucking self absorbed and such a dick we wouldn’t be in this situation!” you yelled, storming past him to the bathroom as tears stung your eyes.

it took a lot to make you cry, but with bakugo constantly up your ass about every little thing you did, along with ruining the one night you thought you could just have fun with your friends-

you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

bakugo watched you storm off as he stood there shocked, sure you always snapped back at his insults and jabs but never had you screamed the way you did.

his ears went red as deku gave him a sad look, not for him—but for y/n.

bakugo was quick to follow the girl, trying not to make it obvious he was chasing after you.

before you could shut the bathroom door he threw his foot in before it closed, prying it open and shoving himself in as you screamed at him to get out.

“what asshole?! come to pour more beer on me?!”

“can you calm down for a secon-”

“me?! calm down?” you laughed, angrily grabbing the neatly folded towel and harshly dragging it over your soaked clothing, “you’re full of bullshit, bakugo.”

“listen, i didn’t mean to spill that on you!”

“but you did, and i think it’s because i’m wearing this stupid dalmatian outfit and you wanted me to change,” you spat, turning on the sink and wetting the towel.

okay, you did have a point.

he was really an asshole.

his face felt like it was on fire as he bit down on his lip harshly, avoiding eye contact as he tried staring at anything but you.

“i’m…sorry, okay?”

you stopped your actions immediately as your head whipped towards him, eyebrows raised and nose scrunched.

“you—the all mighty bakugo, is sorry?”

“don’t make me say it twice,” he growled, but it was low and almost…soft.

“i didn’t mean for this all to get so out of hand,” he confessed, going to scratch the back of his neck as you raised your eyebrows.

“i just don’t understand what i ever did to you.”

“nothing,” he quickly said, “i just hate how…you you are.”

he cringed at his words as you rolled your eyes, going for the door to leave and go home—wanting to change and end this conversation.

you felt his large hand grab your wrist and stop you in your tracks, pulling you gently back as you stared up at him.

“you’re just so confident and don’t take shit from anyone—it sometimes feels like i’m the only one who can act like that.”

“you’re saying i intimidate you?”

“watch it, shitty woman,” he growled before averting eye contact.

“i’m saying…” he continued, trailing off as he bit his lip so hard it looked painful, “i might hate you less than the others.”

you felt like there was a lump in your throat as your mouth opened slightly.

“you like me?”

“hate less than the others!” he corrected, stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for you to leave.

this is where they always leave.

“i like- i mean, hate you less than the others too i guess,” you shrugged, watching as his eyes lit up but he was quick to cover it with a cough to the side.

“hate me less to let me take you out sometime?”

you pretended to think about his offer, causing him to narrow his eyebrows as you shrugged your shoulders.

“i guess.”

he grinned at your answer as he shoved his hands into his pockets, a slight blush on both of your guys’s cheeks as you stood there in silence.

“cmon,” he coughed, grabbing the door handle behind you as he opened it slightly, “i have extra clothes you can change into.”

“you’re such a simp!”

as you walked out the door he flicked you on the side of the head, causing you to scowl at him as he walked you through the house.

“tell anyone and you’re dead.”

“wasn’t planning on it.”

#bakugo fanfic #bakugo fic #bakugo imagine #bakugo katuski #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #mha bakugou #my hero academia

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