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aggravatetheaxe · 3 years

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BO SINCLAIR X READER - Waffle House Pt. 1

You're a server at the south's greatest and best-loved institution: Waffle House. The graveyard shift can be tough, but you can usually find ways to entertain yourself. Turns out tonight's entertainment is named Bo, and he wants to know if you're on the menu.

I wrote this especially for my friend Zin! This title is SAFE FOR WORK. Pt. 2 is NSFW (and in Bo's POV!)

Soundtrack: Diner Ambience ; Rain ; Faint Hard Rock

Words: 3,269

Part 2

Part 3

Masterlist

***

READER POV

It was raining when he came in, a light rain that tapped on the windows and made you want to leave your shift at Waffle House early to crawl into your warm bed. He was just some guy—average, white, brown hair, blue eyes. And yet you felt compelled to watch him as he tapped his dripping boots against the door and shook out his hat.

Wow.

You were new to the overnight shift. It was mostly truckers coming up and down the interstate, guys who just wanted to tuck into a warm meal and leave. They tipped well, too, so you didn't mind. It wasn't like your sleep schedule wasn't fucked anyway. May as well make some money while you were up all night.

This was the first time you'd had a physical reaction to any guy who'd walked in. You completely forgot about the orange juice you were in the process of putting away. You could feel your heart race as he gazed around the restaurant, and when his eyes found yours and he flashed you that grin?

Wow.

He took a seat at the breakfast bar, right in front of you, like he could sense your pulse quickening. "Evenin'."

Right, you were supposed to greet him. "Hi, there. Can I getcha some coffee?"

"That'd be real welcome, [miss / sir]." His crow's feet wrinkled, and he set his hat aside on the counter. His twang sounded so good mixing with the classic rock pouring from the speakers that you had to bite your lip to keep from sighing. "Sure is comin' down out there."

"Yeah," you agreed with a breathless laugh. God, did you sound stupid? You turned quickly, retrieving a mug and the fresh pot you'd just finished brewing. "How do you like it?"

"If you bring me the fixin's, I'll do it up," he said easily. When you turned and handed him the mug, his eyes found your chest, staring at your name tag for an extended moment. Then, his gaze crawled to yours. "Y/N."

Your face was so hot you wondered if he could see you blushing. Rather than say anything stupid, you practically shoved ramekins of creams and sugars at him, then mumbled some excuse or another before disappearing into the kitchen.

Pressed against the wall, you took a few deep breaths. You saw a hundred men every shift, some of them quite handsome, and yet this guy was standing out to you. Why, you had no idea, but you had a table of college kids to wait on and three other people at the counter ... you couldn't be fixated on this one person.

The cook glanced up at you, then did a double take, frowning. "You okay? Look like you're about to pass out."

Worried your Average Man had heard him, you cleared your throat and announced, "I was just getting some straws," before grabbing a handful and exiting.

You shoved the straws in your apron, trying to avoid eye contact with the man ... but as you poured refills and took orders, you found it hard not to glance over at him. He was just sitting, enjoying his coffee, but every so often, you could feel him watching you from the corner of his eye.

You knew you couldn't put off talking to him for long. You had to take his order, after all, and he'd been patient. As you walked back to him, he looked up, smiling brightly. "Welcome back."

"Thanks." Why were you thanking him? Jesus Christ, you sounded like an idiot. "Ready to order?"

He laughed a little, carding a hand through his slightly damp curls. "Once you give me a menu, darlin', I reckon I won't be long."

"Oh, sh— shoot." You scrambled to grab him a menu, slapping it down in front of him. "Sorry. It's been a long night."

"No worries." As he flipped the menu open, he nodded to his coffee cup. "Can I get some more a that, sweetpea?"

"Of course." Man, you were really fucking up this serving thing tonight.

By the time you'd grabbed the pot and refilled him, he'd set the menu down and was ready with two white packets between his fingers. He tore them both open in one motion, then looked at you, smirking. "Extra sugar. Don't tell."

Shit, you can have all the sugar you want. But your mouth was not half as dirty as your mind, and so you just smiled back, trying so hard to keep from giggling. "So, what'll it be?"

"I'll get the, uh ... Texas bacon patty melt with hashbrowns."

"Sure. How you want those hashbrowns?"

"Just plain. Actually, make 'em smothered. Oh, an' a side of biscuits 'n' gravy, please."

"You got it." You jotted the order down quickly and passed it through the kitchen window, readying yourself to move on to the next customer for your own sanity.

But it was the man's voice that drew you back to the counter: "Hey..."

You turned. He was about to ask you a question, you could tell from the tone of his voice. "What's up?"

"I'm not really from around here." His smile was friendly enough, but his shocking blue eyes seemed almost calculating. "S'pretty late, an' I don't feel like sleepin' in the truck again. You know any good motels 'round here?"

It didn't even occur to you in the moment that he could be flirting. "Well, there's a Motel 6 not far from here ... a Red Roof a few miles down the interstate. Those'll probably be your best options in terms of good quality."

His expression shifted a bit, but then his smile widened, crow's feet wrinkling again. "All right. Thanks, sugar."

Sugar. You weren't new to being called that—you lived in the south, after all—but something about the way he said it...

You tried to get him off your mind the rest of the night, but it was kind of difficult. Even after he'd finished his food, he lingered, draining coffees and flipping through a newspaper someone had left on the stool next to him. He got up to go to the restroom a couple times, but besides that, he stayed planted right in front of you, where it was impossible to ignore him.

It was an hour and thirty minutes later that your shift ended. You gathered your things, and as you headed toward the door, you weren't surprised to find him still there.

For some reason, only then did his lingering presence give you pause. Why was he hanging around a Waffle House at 3 a.m., anyway? He'd said he wasn't from around here ... had he gotten kicked out or something? Chosen a direction on the interstate and just started going?

Poor guy. You bit your lip, going back and forth with yourself for a few moments before your pity won out. "Hey, sir."

He looked over his shoulder, forehead wrinkling.

"Um, you take care. Lindsey'll ring you up whenever you're ready."

He cracked a smile and waved. "Take care, darlin'."

You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered at those words.

The sky was just beginning to turn the color of dusk, but it was still raining as you exited the restaurant and headed to your car. Your keys jingled as you wrestled them out of the pocket of your jacket. It took you a moment to find the keyhole in the driver's side door, squinting through the rain like you were.

The inside of the car was blissfully dry, and as you slammed the door and blocked out the pounding rain, you closed your eyes and pushed out a long breath. It was time to go home—have some dinner of your own, maybe some tea, then collapse in bed.

That thought finally moved you to put the key in the ignition and turn.

And turn.

...And turn.

Well, you were the only one turning, because the engine certainly fucking wasn't.

Dread crawled up your spine and gripped the back of your neck. What? How could something like this happen? You'd just paid through the nose for a ton of repairs and an inspection. How could your engine just...

Anxiety floated you as you climbed out of the car, braving the rain to look under the hood. But hell, you barely knew which one was the engine, let alone how to fix it if it was broken. Your hands shook as you fumbled for the hood prop, heat climbing your face and stinging your eyes. How were you gonna get this fixed? How would you even afford it? Below minimum wage and tips from truckers wasn't going to cut it.

You turned, leaning against the side of the car and taking your cellphone from your other pocket. The tears finally fell once you realized that you didn't have anyone to call. You slammed the hood of the car and covered your face.

"Hey."

The voice, raised over the downpour, made you jump. You'd been standing in the rain for a few minutes, sobbing your eyes out, and you were completely soaked through. The rain and the heat of your tears fogged your glasses so bad, you couldn't see who was there no matter how you squinted.

"Hey," he said again, much closer now. You recognized the twang.

Quickly, you grabbed your glasses off, wiping them against your shirt before replacing them. You could see the Average Man much more clearly now, watching you but keeping his distance.

"Hi," you managed, sniffling hard.

His face fell. In a few seconds, he was beside you, offering you a hanky from his back pocket. With a little mumble of thanks, you wiped your face and blew your nose. The hanky smelled like motor oil and musk. He was close enough for you to smell him, too, feel the heat coming off his body.

For some reason, that made you cry harder.

He clicked his tongue above you. "Why you cryin', darlin'? It's pourin' out; you're gonna get soaked."

"My ... my car," you managed, gesturing helplessly.

"Oh? Somethin' wrong with your car?"

"Yeah. And I don't know jack shit except the model and year." You vented your frustration in a hard exhale, wringing his hanky. "I just got it inspected, too."

The man paused for a moment. "Well, hey, I'm a mechanic. I could take a look if ya like."

You raised your head, wiping your glasses again. "I— no, it's fine. It's raining out, you don't have to..."

"I don't mind," he said dismissively, opening the hood with one hand and propping it up. "Pretty thing like you shouldn't cry like that."

Again, you found yourself staring at him. This man definitely gave off an ... energy, calling you pretty while fixing your car. For a stranger, he was certainly taking control of a situation he hadn't even been aware of a minute ago. You'd been well aware he was attractive and compelling, but this was a whole new level. You were so taken off guard you couldn't think of a response.

"Go ahead and climb in front," the man said, waving you that way. "Try 'n' start it when I knock on the window."

"Okay." You slid into the front seat again, waiting for his command. He knocked once, and you turned the key.

No luck. You hesitated before knocking back.

Another knock. No luck. After the third, he rapped on the driver's side window instead, and you opened the door for him.

He was soaked. His clothes were drenched to his skin, his hair curling wildly around his ears and forehead. "No luck, darlin'. Think your engine's shot."

You felt your face crumple, any hope you'd had now crushed. It was four-something in the morning. Where were you going to get a ride home let alone a tow truck? And then how were you going to pay for it all?

"You gonna be okay?"

His words shook you out of your reverie. Your chest felt cold and numb ... the beginnings of a panic attack starting to take hold. "I just ... I don't know what I'm gonna..." You clenched your hands, freezing and trembling, and inhaled shakily.

"Listen," he said after a few moments, glancing up at the sky. "It's real shitty out, if you'll pardon my French, an' I don't feel right leavin' you all alone out here..." He sighed, almost grimacing. "You want a ride? I can getcha home, you can rest an' make your phone calls in the mornin'."

Getting into a stranger's car ... it was the most stereotypical thing in the world, but you didn't see any way you could turn down the offer. He seemed nice enough, and if it came down to it, you could run if not defend yourself...

At this point, you'd risk anything to be somewhere warm and cozy instead of in this stupid, freezing parking lot.

"I don't want to ... inconvenience you," you said weakly.

"It's no bother." His smile tightened a bit. "I'd rather you say yes or no so I can get out of this downpour."

You slipped out of your car, shutting and locking it behind you. Hopefully it would be alright for the night. "As long as you don't mind, mister."

The man simply smirked in response, slamming your hood and heading for his truck. It was a beat-up Chevy in dire need of a paint job, but it was running, which was more than you could say for your own vehicle. He opened the passenger side door, then shut it behind you, hurrying himself out of the rain. The pickup's vintage interior smelled faintly of cigarettes as you slid into place, buckling in.

He swore softly as he climbed in beside you and started the truck. Heat blasted through the air vents, and you relaxed a little. It smelled musty and old in here, but the engine sounded good, and whatever problems there were were easily smoothed over by the handsome company and the rock droning from the radio.

"Name's Bo, by the way." He spared you a smile as he backed out of his parking space. "Only fair you know mine since I know yours." When you balked, he laughed. "Your name tag, remember?"

"Oh. Right. Duh."

The man—Bo—took it in stride. "You must be beat as hell, shift like that. Betcha can't wait to get home and curl up in bed."

"Yeah," you replied, giggling awkwardly.

Bo smiled. God, he was so pretty. "Don't blame ya. I'm dog tired myself. Do just about anything for a drink and a soft bed right now." A chuckle. "Guess I'll just have to settle for a beer and a motel mattress."

Again, you giggled awkwardly.

On the other hand, he wasn't awkward at all. In fact, he seemed perfectly comfortable carrying the conversation, as if he'd gotten the script before you and rehearsed his lines a thousand times. "So where'm I headed?"

"Oh, uh, take the next exit..."

You continued to navigate for him, but you were working from memory, your eyes barely on the road. You couldn't help but watch his hands as he maneuvered the truck. They looked strong and warm, with fine hairs near his wrist, and on his right hand, a signet ring glistened in the low light. When he stroked and squeezed the steering wheel, his muscles and skin shifted beautifully over his knuckles.

You kinda wished you were that steering wheel.

Eventually, the truck pulled up to your apartment building, engine purring as it idled. "This the one?"

"Yeah." You clutched your things closer and smiled over at Bo. "Thank you for this. Really, I don't know what..."

You'd been about to say I don't know what I can do to repay you, but the state he was in, it wasn't hard to guess what he needed. Not only was he drenched, but he looked half-dead with exhaustion despite that easy smile of his.

Even as you opened your mouth, you knew this was a crazy idea.

"Do you ... want to come in for a minute? I can at least get you a towel, um, and maybe some cash for taking you out of your way."

Bo paused. He had an expressive face—you could see him weighing his options. "What the hell," he sighed, giving a tight white-guy smile before cutting the engine. "Sure."

Your heart leapt. You had half expected him to turn you down out of politeness, but you supposed you had inconvenienced him. Excitement mixed with terror at the thought of having this man—a stranger—in your apartment. Alone with you.

But it was a little too late to back out now. You slipped out of the truck and led him quickly up the front steps, then the interior stairs to your apartment. As always, your building smelled like Second Floor's cats and First Floor's cheap weed. Bo only stood behind you, hat in his hand, nice and polite as he waited for you to unlock your door.

"Home sweet home," you said, laughing awkwardly as you stepped in.

Bo gave a cursory glance around the place but didn't seem to feel one way or the other about your decor, simply smiling at you. He sure did know how to make people feel at ease. This almost didn't feel like an insanely stupid idea.

"Make yourself at home. I'll go get a towel. Um, and I can get you a drink. What do you like?"

"I'm not fussy, but I'll take whiskey if you have it."

Your place was so small, you were able to carry on the conversation while you hurried to the bathroom and grabbed a fresh towel from the cabinet. "I think one of my friends left some behind the last time she was over. Wild Turkey? It's bourbon?"

"That'll do." When you brought him the towel, he gave you one of those dazzling grins in return. "Much obliged, darlin'."

God, you just wanted to stand there and take him in while he toweled himself off, but you forced yourself not to, instead going into the small kitchen and fetching the whiskey. You weren't much of a drinker yourself, but you'd seen your friends drink plenty, so you poured a couple fingers in a wide glass and brought it out. He had already made himself quite comfortable on your couch, leaned back, legs spread, arm across the back of it.

"I hope it's not irresponsible of me to give you a drink when you're gonna be driving," you said as you handed him the whiskey.

He chuckled. "Don't you worry about me. I've pro'lly driven worse off a thousand times." He threw it back in one go, and you watched his slightly stubbly throat bob as he swallowed smoothly. He practically moaned, "That's it," before wiping his mouth. Looking you up and down, "None for you, sugar?"

It took you a moment to find your voice. "I don't really drink much. Tastes like paint thinner to me."

That drew a laugh from him. "Sacrilege." Then a hum. "You don't have to stand there, y'know. It is your house."

Sitting next to him would mean his arm was practically wrapped around your shoulder. An edge of wariness was beginning to press against your thundering heart. This was such a terrible idea, for so many different reasons.

You approached slowly, lingering before him. The way he looked up at you through his lashes, body sunk into your couch, nearly made your mouth water. He lifted his glass slightly. "Think I'm good for one more ... if ya don't mind."

***

Part 2

Masterlist

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #house of wax 2005 #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher imagine #bo sinclair imagine #written

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

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Ghosting A Wayne

Masterlist

Warnings: Adult content +18 only!! Smut, Agegap, Swearing, A Little Angst?

A/n:Ok so this is the first real full smut iv done and im super nervous about posting this one i hope its good but if its shit im sorry hope you enjoyxx

After getting cold feet because of your own insecurities you get a visitor pick you up from work.

Ghosting A Wayne

You sighed as you pulled out a batch of cookies from the oven placing the three large trays out on the cooling racks today was a baking day to fill the display out the front ,you'd been alone with your thoughts all day and were just about done, glancing at the clock you fist pumped the air. Home time. You quickly undone your apron hanging it on the hook by the kitchen door then called out to Tom that your shift was done.

After your first lunch date with Bruce you intended to leave it there but the man was very persistent... and charming somehow he'd managed to talk you in circles and wrangle a second date and third and forth. you'd canceled your fifth using work as an excuse and he bought it for about a week, then he began asking when you were free telling you to call him giving you his personal number which you didn't call.

That worked for about three days before he began messaging you about a date you replied with excuses it seemed to work until he showed up at the door to drop Damien round instead of Alfred, Jack had covered for you not letting either of them in saying you were ill. It wasn't that you didn't like him or anything you were scared, scared of getting hurt he was amazing a perfect gentleman he made you laugh he took you to fancy places but didn't make you uncomfortable even going so far as to berate another guest as he heard them make a comment of the restaurant 'letting anyone in these days' when he was returning from the rest room , you felt special and safe with him.

But he was The Bruce Wayne and nothing would ever come of it. Someone like you had no right to be with someone like him, he deserved a high class well educated successful woman not a minimum wage cafe worker who dropped out of college. You found yourself growing to attached to him and it had frightened you. Not only that but what would people say when they found out, probably think your a charity case or a gold digger you could see the headlines now ' The playboys new sugar baby' with photos of you plastered across the tabloids you shivered.

Damien had spoke to you about it he was far to smart for his own good telling you your being a 'stupid female' and that you should just talk to Bruce about it, Jack also scolded you for being stupid and letting your insecurities hold you back.

The boy had been soo happy for you when you were going out with Bruce, he admitted that he felt responsible for you being alone and not having friends or a boyfriend it broke your heart, hearing how he blamed himself for it, yes it had been hard taking on a 8 year old at 20 years old and yes you did need to grow up quicker then most and avoid the typical early twenties drinking and clubbing but you wouldn't change a thing. When he had brought it up you both had a heart to heart and you were gobsmacked at just how mature he had soundec. He told you that he didn't care about Bruce being Damien's dad or that he was older than you, he was happy that you had someone who made you happy and wanted you to got out with him again and be happy. The boys didn't understand.

"Tom I'm finished don't touch the cookies before they cool you can have one to test but that's it theirs 48 here I've counted, so if you have anymore I will know its you, you greedy little shit" you said opeing the door you walked straight into him he was wide eyed pointing out to the font over his shouldet. You froze thinking the worst it was gotham afterall.

"Oh my god tom?"

"You have.. Out the there.... Man front" he said not making any sense you pushed past him through the door

"whats wron-"

"y/n!" you snapped your head to the counter seeing Bruce standing their ignoring the odd looks he received from the other few customers scattered about in the cafe. You slung your bag over your shoulder cradling your coat in the other hand cursing quietly. Scanning the cafe for a quick exit wanting to run. There was one way in and out and he was between you and the door. Giving in you plastered on a polite smile.

"Bruce what are you doing here?" you asked tentatively due to the blank look on his face unsure what mood he would be in after you ghosted him. Making your way around the counter he followed on the other side meeting you at the end.

"I wanted to take you out, Jack told me when you finished so I thought I'd come pick you up for dinner" you felt the gazes in the room shift from him to you and the whispers started. Bruce held out a hand taking your coat from you while you tried to come up with a reason not to your anxiety screaming at you to run. You sighed at him biting your lower lip raw he lifted a hand pulling it gently forcing you to release it. He smiled meeting your eyes trying to calm you.

"Bruce I don't feel like going out tonight can we reschedule?" hooking his arm around your waist guiding you out of the cafe past the gossiping customers opening the door for the both of you pressing himself to your back giving you no room to bolt away. Hed catch you anyway.

"Good news, we don't have to go out Alfred is making us dinner back home, so we get to have a relaxing night in." you nodded as you left walking down the street feeling your nerves spike as you realized there was no reason to avoid this. He kept pace with you to the side arms ready to dart out and catch you as you glanced around a little skittish he ushered you into a ridiculously expensive Lamborghini and took off down the road.

"So that's Tom then? the one you were talking about?" he started you were confused as he acted like you hadn't been avoiding him for the past week and half you just nodded.

"Err yeah that's him we get along work really well, I was doing all the baking today couldn't handle the customers they were doing my head in." he nodded placing a warm hand on your knee running his thumb in small circles you took a deep breath.

"I know what you mean, had a lot of meetings today with a bunch little men wanting me to over invest in companies that wont last the financial year" you tensed as he left his hand on your leg still navigating the traffic, you tried to shift your led from underneath him but he just followed squeezing it lightly making your breath hitch and clench your walls tight.

"Sh-shouldn't you have both hands on the wheel in a car like this?" you asked quietly he laughed giving you a mischievous look then you screamed as he let go of the wheel completely still picking up speed quickly.

"OH MY GOD BRUCE NO!" you cried leaning over grabbing it yourself he just laughed out loud placing one hand back on it the other still resting on your knee.

"Its fine I could probably drive this with my eyes closed, it's nothing like my other car" he said cheekily as he made his way towards the outskirts of gotham you swallowed nervously.

"yeah please dont do that"

"Don't worry I'd never let anything happen to you sweets" you blushed as he used the nickname he'd given you onde he found out about your sweet tooth and the fact you do all the baking at the cafe.

"He says after driving without hands." you scoffed looking out of the window as the scenery changed. It wasn't long before you pulled up to the manor. It was impressive you'd only been inside twice whilst waiting for Jack to get his things he thought it was the perfect place to hid from his dentist and doctors appointments. Once out of the car he lead you inside where Alfred greeted you both.

"Ah Master Wayne dinner will take another hour or so I'm afraid and Y/n its lovely to see you again." Bruce gave you both a look seeking an explanation for the first name basis.

"Have you met everyone in this house before me?" he asked sarcastically you smiled at him before Alfred took your coats hanging them up.

"Well sometimes the boys play about getting ready so Alfred comes in for tea whilst we wait and I've met Tim he has come over a few times drank my whole pot of coffee and left." he grunted before leading you to a small sitting room off to the side.

"We will be in here Alfred call us when dinner is ready." Alfred nodded smiling slyly before closing the door leaving you in private. You sat down on the leather sofa a nervous wreck looking around the opulent room feeling out of place, he took a seat beside you offering you a glass of what you assumed was scotch he sat and leaned in next to you. Relaxing as he took a slow sip of his drink.

"Don't look so worried the boys explained for you. Your scared of getting hurt I can understand that I don't exactly have the best record but I'm not giving up as you can tell."you looked down into your glass a little ashamed as you heard hurt laced in his words.

"I-its not that, its me I.. I love spending time with you I really do... but I dont think you should waste your time on me... thats all" he frowned you sounded so ...defeated , he didnt like it one bit placing his glass down putting two and two together. That he didn't know Damien said you were being a 'difficult woman' and Jack had said that you hadn't dated since school and were afraid of being hurt he summarised that it was because of him but it sounds like there was more to it then that. Bruce took a deep breath regarding you carefully.

"Waste my time? why would spending time with you be a waste. There is something between us, I have never felt this type of pull to a woman before and I'm quite determind to see you if you havent already noticed" he said sternly you shrunk into the sofa he sighed pulling the glass tumbler from you hand.

"Whats really going on? we were going fine then you just pulled back. I want this, us and I know you do to but we have to talk to each other." You leaned forward locking eyes with him feeling overwhelmed you shook your head pulling back he followed leaning back pulling you across the seat wrapping his arms around you pulling your face into his chest holding you, you tried pulling yourself off of him but he was to stronger than he looked. You Gave up then took a deep breath endulging in the closeness breathing him in.

"Talk to me please" he spoke quietly into your hair

"I cant, I just cant, your-I, you need someone better. And if people find out then what will they think? that I'm a charity case some passing fancy? that you'll get bored with and you will bruce. When you find some older succsessfull women who equals you. someone that I can never be for you. I wont be good enough for you and you'll see it one day" once you started you couldn't stop as the words kept coming your fears poured out after being kept bottled up since that very first date.Fears of loving him and then him leaving, or of what backlash Jack could face if you were painted to be a whore trying to capture Bruces attention, the cps could investigate if it seemed like you were becoming a party girl like what Bruce typically dated. Then there was the fact that the school could start being funny if word got out that you and bruce were together. But the main reason was that he was to good for you and you knew it. You heaved a breath feeling lighter yet your stomach churned he had been quiet throughout and you'd gotten yourself worked up shaking from your anxiety feeling sick to your stomach.

"I'm sorry I know I should have spoke to you instead but I... I was scared that you were going to realize I'm right and leave ...so" he hushed you rubbing your back lightly causing you to shiver and relax onto his chest.

"So you left before I could?" you flinched then nodded it sounded so petty when said out loud he moved sitting up a bit more dragging you with him not releasing you for a second, he would have preferred if it had all been about his past but now realized you had low self esteem you had fears about the future, the age gap, Jacks future and how people would judge you all of these fear were to blame. And he understood it must be daughting, but what got him most was that you thought he'd let you deal with it alone , that you were so scared of loosing him in the long run you tried to walk away now and that was all the proof he needed that you did feel somthing for him.

"Tell me something does Jack have a problem with you being with me?" he asked you shook your head instantly.

"No he loves it, he wants me to be with you he saw how happy I was he has been pestering me to call" he pulled his head away smiling confusing you.

"I can tell you that Damien is thrilled he has even been bragging to his brothers that I've found the perfect woman and they cant wait to meet you by the way the

and he threatened me before every date to 'not to fuck it up' so let me ask another question if Jack, Damien me and you are happy what does anyone else's opinion matter? it's our life why should we make ourselves miserable over a few tabloids that can be taken to court and be corrected? and I do have reporters that I trust with these type of stories one is a very close friend who I could give an exclusive to before any rumors get around and the press make up some nonsense. Not only that I know Clark wold print the truth if he knew that it involved the boys being bullied in the school." he let you pull back shocked you didnt think he would want anyone to know, you thought hed be ashamed of you.

"wh-what?" it was bearly a whisper but he heard it.

"You heard me sweets, Clark wouldn't let me down not with this and there are other reporters who I've trusted to cover stories of the boys in the past one phone call and I would have everything sorted and anyone who tries to make this something its not will feel the full force of my legal team." he leaned in giving you no time to reply kissing you deeply invading your mouth moaning into you. His tongue dominated your mouth taking your breath away he paused pulling you to straddle his waist you blushed looking down at him.Trying to put your weight on your knees conscious of your weight Bruce not having any of that tugged harshly pulling your weight on his thighs.

"And as for finding someone better I doubt it. I've said it before and I will say it again I want you. Not some stuck up model who's one surgery away from being on botched. The day we met I was floored and for the first time I saw what I truly wanted for me and my family. And it wasn't some highly educated business woman, no it was a sexy little mama bear who treated my son as her own." you gasped as he brought your hips closer resting you on his crotch before leaning forward capturing your lips again this time slow and deliberate pouring himself into it you, you moaned quietly as he rocked you across his groin. Pulling back for air

"So little miss now we have all that cleared up is there anything you want to add?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" you gasped out trying to collect yourself as you began getting tearful as you felt stupid for being so silly yet relieved that he hadn't thrown you out, he chuckled shushing you then moved biting at your earlobe .

"That's ok love I'm sure you'll make it up to me" he said kissing down your neck biting below your ear then lower to your pulse point feeling it race under his tongue before sucking harshly bordering on painful.

"o-OH Bruce" you gasped gripping his shoulder trying not to lean back to far and fall he noticed using and arm to hold you elbow resting on your waist curling his fingers into your low bun pulling slowly stretching your neck before him leaving marks up it you groaned closing your eyes trying to rub your thighs together as your pussy grew hot and clenched dampening your panties he ran his nose down your neck kissing your collar bone lightly.

"Aww sweety so desperate hm?" you whined squeezing his hips between your thighs again grinding softly against him he chuckled biting the top of your breast running his tongue along your cleavage unbuttoning your blouse with deft fingers then returned them to your hips pushing you harshly on his erection you cried out looking down panting as he dragged you slowly back and forth feeling him through his trousers was almost to much you fisted your hands in the crisp shirt covering his shoulders. He let out a breathy growl smug as you started trying to rock on him faster pouting when he held you controlling your pace circling you slow on his bulge dipping his thumbs into your pelvis tilting you catching your clit with every pass of your hips you shook your head eyes tightly shut.

"OH fuck shiiitt Bruce" he watched eyes blown as he built you up slowly drinking in your flushed face pouty full lips forming an 'o' as you let out high pitched cries his hands smothered your breasts squeezing them in his palms testing them before he tipped the cups down teasing your pink nipples to attention. You opened your eyes glazed over pleading with him.

"Please Bruce... I dont-fuck" you moaned high and louder almost squeeling as he pinched one of your nipples refusing to let go pulling your chest towards him by it until he could lay a sweet kiss to the other suckling catching it between his teeth nipping it letting go with a loud pop. You panted harder as he toyed with you, your body trembled as he pulled you closer to the edge your clit rubbed harshly against him and he growled relishing in the way your heat seeped onto him. He couldn't wait. He wouldn't. With a one sweeping motion you found yourself lying on the sofa with him hovering over you pulling your leggings down over your hips skimming your quivering thighs with his knuckles befor rubbing your calves and griping your ankles encircling them effortlesly, running his thumbs across the inside of them . Following bending as he went kissing your soft stomach and pelvis finally leaving a small kiss on your mound over your panties you moaned at that. He slipped your leggings off taking your flats with them you blushed as he stared seeing the wet patch you'd left on your panties crawling back up you exploring with his hands the whole way. Hooking a hand around to back of your neck he pulled you up into a bruising kiss needy as he angled his head to devour you deeper his other hand dragging your shirt from you by the back of the neck unclipping your bra and he went lowering you back down you blushed trying to cover yourself he growled pinning them beside you.

"Nooo you dont babe, let me see, show me" he ground out a deep gruntle sound that vibrated threw you trailing the tips of his fingers from your throat down in slow unpredictable patterns leaving goosebumps in his wake your nipples pebbled as he past them your whole body shuddered

"Fuck. Your stunning" you didn't meet his gaze it was to hot, posessive like he was claiming you already just with his eyes watching closely memorizing every freckle and mark on your skin, he let out a deep shuddering breath when you arched up inyo him as he fingered the bow on the waist band of your panties back and forth he brought his fingers lower and lower across your mound. You squirmed trying to buck up against him trying to get him where you desperately needed him whimpering pitifully. His response was to stretch out his fingers across your lower tummy and push you back down holding you still. You protested as his warm hand covered your whole mound and rocked forward trying to catch your clit on the heal of his palm that rested just out of reach.

"Such a greedy little thing. I think I'm going to have to work on your manners" he chided before using a hand to unbutton his shirt revealing a perfectly sculpted torso, you made a noise in the back of your throat that you didn't recognize at the sight of him, caramel skin taught over deliciously defined muscles and small thatch of hair disappearing below a teasingly low hanging trousers he let the shirt slide to the floor undoing his belt then slowly pulled his trousers over his hip grunting thrusting forward as it glided over his cock. You bit your lip still trying to move against his heavy hand he granted you a little mercy twisting as the wrist slotting his thumb between your lips seeking your clit and rubbing a figure 8 hard.

"AHH! F-Fuck BRUCE yes oh god-" you gasped deep breaths as he rolled your cilt around almost rough in his ministrations the fabric of you panties hieghtend the sensation you closed your eyes grinding yourself down on him tears leaked from them his other hand came up to your throat forcing you to face him.

"Look at me baby. come on let me see you... ah there she is good girl" he praised as you looked at him tears clinging to your lashes his hand still working you. Sobbing incoherently trying to buck up to him.

"OH fuck please-PLEASE let me come bruce please I'll do anything PLEASE" you breathed out hoarse gasping when your pussy weeped wetting the sofa below you he played you like an instrument taking you higher and higher you clenched and withered as you felt that familiar burn of an orgasm start in your lower tummy , almost cramping as it traveld lower to your pussy you chased it trying to rock harder just as you were at the presapice he stopped pulling his thumb away bit still pinned you down.

"AH! NO Br-BRUCE come back" you sobbed reaching out for him as your body hummed hot and quivering you gave up on finding his hand throwing yours between you trying to take over and force yourself over the edge. Soo close. Bruce was quicker catching them in one hand pulling them above you head. He watched waiting for you to come down from the almost high. Pouting all the way.

"You can count that as your punishment babe" he whispered huskliey into your neck kissing at the marks he has left. You cried out frustarated sweaty and exhasted.

"But im feeling a little mercifull tonight." you looked at him from below your lashes his heart skipped a beat seeing you look at him so needy and ready you looked so small,he could do anything to you right now but only wanted one thing. Shuffling back leaning down he placed an open mouthed kiss on your panties slipping his fingers in the sides draging them off before standing removing his boxers freeing his erection you gasped as it bounced up tapping his stomach ,hesitantly you reached out running a single finger along the underside from tip to base he jerked forward when you cupped him testing your grip befor stroking him he stopped you

"Fuck sorry babe but I cant wait." he growled out pinning you back down running his weeping head up and down your slit you tensed as he probed your enterance. Sensing your nerves he locked lips with you coaxing out your tongue sucking on it before licking in your mouth makeing obscene noises feeling you relax he took the chance and slowly begun stretching you around him ,you gasped at the slight sting pulling back rest your forehead on his grunting softly as he kept a slow steady pressure finally knocking his hips with yours you panted feeling your walls fluttering around him then squeezing

"shit Bruce" he huffed out a laugh flexing in response

"carefull there babe" you grunted feeling stuffed full as his head pushed against your cervix.

"Bruce please...HUrry up!" you clenched him stealing his breath from him he gave a playfull glare you felt a little tremor of apprehension as he repostioned your legs higher on his hips placing your heels into his lower back before plowing you into the sofa grunting and growling as his thrusts rocked your body you were by no means quiet as the veins on his cock massaged your walls with delicious friction he slowed then pressed himself tight against your clit rotating catching your gspot you bucked violenty against him head thrown back as you wailed he leaned up sucking and biting at your neck then resumed finding a brutal pace aiming for your gspot hitting it with pinpoint accuracy. You shook your head screaming out uncontrollably bucking begging for him to go harder, faster just wanting more. It wasn't long befor you saw stars letting out a silent scream tensing before you snapped cumming around him almost blinded as he rode you through it still hitting your spot faster if that was even possible before stuttering his hips holding himself tight locking you both together as he flooded you.

"OH GOD fuck FUCK yesyesyes good girl yes fuck" he moaned as you lay beneath him, limp body still quacking in the aftermath of your own end. He stayed still until he was soft catching his breath recovering before you removing himself he sat back on his knees watching as he leaked from you quick to scoop his cum and press it back within you, you whined still painfully oversensitive trying to pull away from his invading fingers. he chuckled as you squirmed utterly spent.

"nooo bruce" you whined as he prodded your freshly fucked pussy lighly grazing your abused clit causing you to whine at him pitifully jolting with every swipe.

"Aww baby are you sore?" you pouted at his words nodding he got up sitting you up handing you your forgotton drink you took it gulping it down ignoring the burn. he retrived his boxers throwing them on then a soft blanket covering you before scooping you up heading for the door.

"Bruce? what are you doing?" you asked gorgily already struggiljng to stay awake he leant down shutting you up with a kiss.

"We are going to bed you need some sleep before we continue." you blinked

"wha?" he grinned cheekily

"well how are we going to build up your stamina if we dont push past your exhaustion?" you almost cried just wanting to sleep.

"What about Alfred dinner?" you questioned

"He didnt make any I had to have a reason to get you here didnt I? he went to bed. and dont worry about Jack he is staying over in a room next to Damien's" you looked at him shocked

"What why was he here? do you think he could have heard me? bruce!" you panicked suddenly fully awake trying to wiggle out of his grip he laughed kissing your face.

"Oh my god what about our clothes? Bruce go back and shit we made a mess i need to clean that up..Bruce are you listening?" You created as he continued further away from the room youd just soild.

"he didnt hear you at all it was one of his demands when we planned this. And dont worry about the room or the clothes alfred will take care of it" he said scaling the stairs with ease taking you to his room

"planned? you who else knew? And what do you mean alfred will take care of it? no absolutly not that is embarassing" you argued as he kicked the door to his room shut behind him depositing you on his bed following you down landing above you kissing you again.

"me alfred damien and jack planned it but dick and jason knew too thats why they are scarce and alfred has cleard up worse trust me." he explained you stared at him in horror

"My little brother set me up with you?oh my god I'm not going to live that down and i need to clear that up its to embarassing for alfred to see" you cried he laughed out loud.

"Well I think its was worth it, and you can try and beat Alfred to it but that room will be ccleared up before sunrise and you won't be leaving this bed before then" he said snuggling up with you under the cover ,you made a noise as he tucked you into his chest his heart beat calming you making you drift into a peaceful sleep resting on his chest, feeling safe and sound wrapped up in him as he traced patterns on your back, sighing he was finally content a peace he hadnt known befor washed over him satisfied that he had found the woman that would complete his family, his chest swelled as he placed a kiss on your head. He wasn't ever letting you go now that he had you here. Glancing over at the clock, hed give you an hour or so to build up some energy before he woke you smirkjng to himslef planing all the wicked ways he was going to toy with you during the night. Oh yes the night was young and if Bruce had his way you wouldnt be leaving his bed tomorrow because you wouldnt be able to, thankfully you hade a few days off so he might let you recover. Then again he might not.

#bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayned fic #bruce wayne x reader #batmom imagines #batman x y/n #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #dc x y/n #dc x reader

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kayr0ss · 4 years

Text

The Girl from Ipanema

[Diakko, Fluff, Cafe One-Shot, Cute Stuff, older!LWA, Supportive Bartender, inspired by the song of the same title]

Summary: The barista, who was something of a hopeless romantic, couldn't help but notice the way Akko was staring at the mysterious blonde in the corner of the coffee shop. So of course he tells her to, "go get her a coffee!"

here is the song

“An iced Americano for me, thank you.”

Akko smiled warmly at the barista, fishing for change in her pockets while Gerry (or so his name tag said) nodded to confirm her order. “With white mocha. And two pumps of breve. And light water.”

He looked at her from behind the screen of the register, patiently waiting for more.

“That’s all!” She said with a merry grin.

He popped her order into the system in a flurry of taps and beeping, and in a bid for casual conversation, had remarked: “Strong. Sweet. And creamy—the whole package.”

“I’d like to think of my coffee as a reflection of myself.” She replied in jest.

He laughed lightly, nodding while he took her payment. The order was punched in, followed by the high-pitched noise of a receipt being printed out; the sound of it mixed in with a song she remembered from her childhood that she’d often hear in cafes similar to this one.

The melody fit in with the establishment’s ambience. In the next moment, her change was returned and she walked over the end of the bar where she could wait to pick up her drink. She looked around some more—the interior was both rustic and stylishly modern. The bar was backed up by a classic brick wall, unpainted with the dark grey mortar jutting out tastefully. It contrasted nicely with the windows on the opposite side that ran from the ceiling down to the floor—the sunlight was kept at bay by venetian blinds in plain light brown. Everything else was wooden and lacquered—from the tables, to the chairs, and even the counter that sat atop unfinished concrete. There were greens as well, potted and genuinely alive in the corners. The smell of coffee wafted across the space, wrapping the experience together like the perfect ribbon on a gift.

But for Akko, the appeal of well-done interior decoration paled in comparison to the quiet blonde woman sitting in a corner table. Her spot was nearly hidden behind a half-wall divider and some plants. The brunette craned her neck, biting her lip in the process while she tried to get a better look at—

“I hope you aren’t trying to be discreet.” Gerry was back with her drink and a smug grin. “Because if you were, it isn’t working.”

Akko playfully narrowed her eyes. “I thought this kind of advice was bartender territory.”

“Baristas are close enough,” he said in a chipper voice, wrapping a napkin around her cup to keep the condensation at a minimum.

“Well,” she started deliberately, leaning her elbow onto the counter. “You really can’t blame me for staring.”

“I’d agree with that.” He nodded.

At the same time, they both turned towards the blonde—she was around seven meters away, but if the look on her face was any suggestion, she was anything but near. She was utterly engrossed; far, far away into the worn-out paperback book she so tenderly held and read through. In the next moment, she turned a page. A little bit after that, she tucked a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear. Her expression was even—and practically unreadable.

Except for her eyes.

Seven meters was probably too far away to notice, but they were blue—so delightfully blue—and the pace by which they moved from left to right (her head would move along with them in the cutest way) revealed that she might be more enraptured than her expression allowed to show.

It was—if Akko were to be honest—just a little bit breathtaking.

“Buy her a coffee.” Gerry said with an oddly resolute voice for someone Akko had just met. “You don’t look at a woman the way you are right now and pass up on the chance to buy her a coffee.”

Akko blinked, turning back towards him with an expression of surprise yet amusement. “I don’t think she wants one—”

“It’s on me.” Gerry held up his hand, insisting that she stop talking. “What would you think her type is?”

“There’s really no need to—”

“No buts!” He insisted, and the intensity of it made Akko back down a little.

“Alright, alright.” she conceded, sheepishly scratching at the back of her head.

“Once again—what do you think she likes?”

“Iced americano—with white mocha, breve, and a bit of water?” Akko grinned.

“Okay.” He laughed again. “That was pretty smart. But I doubt she’s into caffeine strong and sweet enough to induce a heart-attack.”

“You may never know!” Akko crossed her arms, noting at the back of her mind that the ice of her drink would be melting anytime soon. “I feel like she’s into more adventurous things than—”

“Be cool.” He suddenly snapped to get her attention. “She’s looking at you. She tilted her head. Is that interest? Or is she checking you out?”

Akko giggled, “probably just wondering why we’re being so loud!”

“I swear on my honor as a barista that I never speak louder than my customer needs.” He said with an indignant quirk of his eyebrow. “In any case—how about a flat white?”

Akko hummed to herself. “That works. What if you take half off the sweetener?”

“Good observation.” Gerry nodded, sparing the blonde another quick glance. “The cold air of mystery leads one to believe she doesn’t like sweets.”

“She looks wonderful, doesn’t she?” Akko blurted out, looking towards the blonde over her shoulder while Gerry left for the espresso machine and got to work. She’d leave him a hefty tip and would make it a point to come here more often. Gerry was great—and from the first sip of her Americano, his coffee game was just as awesome.

Akko watched from afar as the blonde settled her chin onto the back of her free hand, laying the book flat onto the table while she flipped to yet another page. She licked her lips.

Akko died a little.

“Honestly,” Gerry was back. “You should see the look on your face right now. If I weren’t a hopeless romantic I’d say it’s pathetic.”

“Excuse you!” Akko laughed. “I’m a customer!”

“And I’m just stating facts.” He held up his palms in self-defense.

“I’m not going to fight you on that one.”

He smiled at her again, pushing the white cup of hot coffee near her from the across the bar in an exaggerated motion of presentation. “Here—an unsweetened flat white on the house, in the name of love.”

Akko gracefully took both drinks (hers was already getting watery), and beamed at the barista who she was pretty sure was now a new friend. “Thank you, Gerry. I’ll make sure to do good by your service.”

He winked, and soon after she was walking towards the small corner table partially hidden by the leaves of some weird indoor plant and oh—up close one could see how well her simple white blouse framed her neck and collar bones—and she—

She was actually nervous? It almost made her laugh—it was unlike her to be nervous of anything. Much less… this.

Akko stopped right when she was hovering near her, and on cue, the blonde looked up, visibly confused at the two drinks in her hands. Akko’s eyes landed on something golden glistening on the other woman’s person.

Oh.

“The barista insisted I buy the beautiful blonde I was staring at a coffee.” Akko started with a small smile.

It made the blonde laugh—the action of which was only just a small huff through the nose, along with the upturn of the corner of her lips. But her eyes looked delighted (and still so very blue) and Akko did her best not to blurt out a pick-up line.

“Did he?”

“He did,” the brunette nodded, placing the drinks onto the table but not daring to seat herself down just yet. “But by the ring on you finger, I’m guessing you’re spoken for?”

She was smiling now. The sight of it… did things to Akko’s stomach.

“I’m spoken for,” Diana smiled, gracefully accepting the coffee. “By a wonderful woman who likes her coffee much too sweet.”

Akko grinned, leaning down when she felt the blonde tug at her arm. Diana seemed utterly charmed by her entrance. She’d pat herself on the back for that. “She’s a hell of a lucky woman.”

“I reckon I am, just as much.” Diana leaned up, smiling while she met Akko half-way for a kiss. It was sweet.

And tasted like coffee.

Akko leaned in for a little more, giggling, toying at the golden ring on her own left hand and feeling a deep-seated joy at knowing the lovely girl in the corner of the café wore an exact copy.

When they finally parted—but only for a few inches—Diana gave her a pointed look. “Did you really trick the poor barista into helping you hit on your wife, my love?”

Akko laughed. “He insisted!”

Diana laughed fully this time, the corners of her eyes wrinkling in mirth while Akko just stood there, grinning stupidly, much like a lovesick puppy.

They were too engrossed with each other to notice that Gerry had nearly fainted.

fin

A/N: Yes LMAO it's another one-shot *cries* but this was a very cute idea I've been dying to write for weeks, and finally sat my ass down for an hour and got it done. I honestly love the song although admittedly the lyrics don't fit so well coz it a bit sad, but doesn't the tune just relax you so much?

Gerry is..... named after my favorite restaurant........... Gerry's Grill lmao

#Diakko #Dianakko #diana x akko #Diana Cavendish #Atsuko Kagari #Akko Kagari #lwa #LWA Diana #LWA Akko #Cafe #Cute #Fluff #older lwa #luna nova #fanfic #humor

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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years

Text

Forever Changing 3

Constantine/Hellblazer

Link to Chapter 2

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader. Mentions of Reader/John Constantine

______

John remained sitting as if he were waiting for Gabriel to pop back in with a massive sassy attitude.

“If you hadn’t run off like the psychopath that you are, I would have told you that Y/n isn’t at her apartment but whatever...you’ll figure it out.”

(meanwhile)

Gabriel reappeared outside of your apartment. He stood motionless for a few moments before stepping inside. Everything was quiet. Too quiet for his liking. Normally when he showed up, he was always greeted by the sound of your television or you would be sitting in the living room. Tonight it was different.

He inhaled and found no trace of your scent. Gabriel quickly turned and took off down the hallway to your room. The sound of his dress shoes on the hardwood floor was the only thing that made any noise.

“Y/n?”

Gabriel said your name in an almost shaken voice. Stepping into the empty bedroom, Gabriel was becoming angrier by the moment. He frowned before walking to the bed and sitting down. Everything that John Constantine said played through Gabriel’s mind.

“Y/n is pregnant, you stupid dip shit.”

Gabriel didn’t realize it but he was beginning to tremble. If you were pregnant, this was going to be disastrous! He had to find you and fast! Gabriel knew if you were pregnant, both of you would be in a world of hurt. Putting things lightly, the church would be after the two of you, demons, other angels, and whatever else out there that would have a problem with a nephilim.

An hour later, Gabriel sat across from another angel. Speaking to Alexander was the last thing that Gabriel really wanted to be doing but he needed to find information on you. One human woman could not just vanish off of the earth. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

“You look well, Gabriel.”

Alexander knew it was a bald-faced lie but Gabriel didn’t have to know it. The moment that Gabriel showed up with his normally neat as a pin curls out of place and tie crooked; Alexander knew that something was up.

“Stop lying to me. I know that I don’t look well. I am needing information.”

“On what?”

Alexander questioned. Gabriel straightened in the chair.

“I am looking for a human.”

“Y/n, right?”

Gabriel frowned. His sharp features intensified and for a moment Alexander regretted ever mentioning your name. It was no secret to anyone with angel in them that Gabriel was having an affair with you.

“Yes. I haven’t been able to locate her in some time.”

Alexander raised an eyebrow.

“Lost your little lover did you?”

Gabriel tried to keep his shocked expression to a minimum.

“I don’t know what you are talking about. I simply need to speak with her on an urgent matter.”

Alexander groaned.

“Get off of it, Gabriel! Lose the act. Everyone knows that you have been doing a lot more with that little occultist. Did you go and make her mad or something?”

Gabriel didn’t speak immediately. That alone clue Alexander in on the rumor was the truth. Mr, Holier-Than-Thou had really fallen a few levels.

“None of that matters nor is it any of your business. Are you going to give me the information that I need or not?”

Alexander smiled again.

“I don’t see why It isn’t like you went and created a nephilim.”

(meanwhile)

You woke up when there was a key in the door. Sitting up, you relaxed when John stepped in. He took off his coat and threw it on the chair.

“You’re up early.”

He commented before lighting a cigarette. John froze, realizing the condition that you were in and hastily put it out.

“Sorry.”

He muttered before stepping into the kitchen. You got up and followed him into the other room.

“You can come back in here. I’m awake…have been since 5.”

John looked around the spotless kitchen.

“And cleaned my house?”

You nodded.

“I was bored and getting my mind focused on something stopped me from wanting to vomit. Did you talk to Gabriel?”

John chuckled and sat down.

“I have to hand it to you, Y/n, You found the perfect way to scare the shit out of the guy. He panicked. I have never seen him lose his cool that badly. It was probably one of my favorite moments with him.”

You winced. Deep down, you expected Gabriel to have some snarky hateful reaction to the news.

“He panicked?”

John nodded and went for the pot of coffee that was waiting for him.

“Oh yeah. I have never seen a half breed angel panic that badly before. He literally unraveled a sweater and disappeared. Something tells me that he is off looking for you. Idiot won’t get far.”

You took a breath.

“John, I am going to have to face Gabriel at some point. I don’t really think that he would try to hurt me now that he knows…”

John shook his head.

“I don’t want to risk it.”

You tried to keep your calm level head. This was your friend’s typical behavior when it came to you. While the world would probably see John Constantine as cold and crass; you got to see the good side of him.

“John, I can’t sit here and let you take care of me. My child isn’t going to be your responsibility. It's not fair to you to have to play father to another being’s child.”

John sat down and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Y/n, I don’t know what you expect me to say. You are going to need all of the help that you can get. Between you being like me and having Gabriel for a father, you are going to have your hands full. You know that you won’t be able to help me out on cases anymore after the kid gets here. It will be too dangerous.”

You sat down too. Call it blissfully stupidity but you hadn’t even thought about that. You hadn’t realized that your “career” was over as you knew it.

“So you have a point. I won’t be able to do what I am good at anymore but...my child is mine and Gabriel’s responsibility.”

John chuckled.

“Gabriel isn’t going to have any damn idea what to do. I’m sorry Y/n but I don’t see him doing very well at 3 am handling a baby with a loaded diaper.”

That thought made you laugh. You could already see the annoyed expression on Gabriel’s face. He would probably shove the poor kid away from him with a look of disgust. Gabriel hating humans enough as it was. Cleaning up after one was probably not going to be too high on his list of favorite activities.

“I don’t see you doing too well handling a baby with a loaded diaper at 3 am either.”

You countered. John smirked before standing up.

“You’ve got a point. Hopefully, this kid will take after you and not Gabriel. I don’t want to worry about getting strangled in my sleep. I am going to take a nap.”

John didn’t wait to get a response from you before going to his room. Laying down on the bed, the next thing to do was getting a few hours of sleep. Right as John was about to go to sleep, Gabriel’s voice filled his head.

“John Constantine, you have something of mine...make that two things of mine that I want back. I know that you have her and I will come for what belongs to me. Even you can’t keep her safe forever. Don’t fuck with my love.”

(meanwhile)

You stood looking out the window. The city was dark and not many people were out. Your conversation with John had been in your mind since he had gone to bed. John definitely had some good points. There was no way that you could continue your normal job. Being a mom and an occultist wasn’t going to work very well together.

All of your thoughts stopped the moment that Gabriel’s voice entered your head.

“Hello, darling. I know that you can hear me. I also know that you have a little secret to tell me about. Tell me where you are. We can settle this nasty little mess that we created.”

You froze. There was no doubt in your mind that you would have to face Gabriel. He deserved to know the truth, right? How would this whole mess honestly go? Was there some weird chance that Gabriel would get his act together or would you always be having to live in fear of your life?

Deciding not to respond to Gabriel, you lay back on the couch. You were going to have to come to some conclusion soon….

____

@brokencasbutt67-writer

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@knight-of-gleefulness

#Constantine #Gabriel #Gabriel x Reader #reader x Gabriel #John Constantine #John Constantine x Reader #Reader x John Constantine #hellblazer #hellblazer/2005 movie combo #reader insert #constantine reader insert #Forever Changing Story #Forever Changing #ourloveisforthelovely

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yamayamawrites · 4 years

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Call Me Friend But Keep Me Closer

A/N: Hi everyone! Thanks so much in your support of my most recent multi-chap MHA fic, Like Friends Do! I got a few requests to write a sequel (or rather, a prequel) going into detail about Kirishima and Bakugou’s relationship. The two can be read entirely independently of each other, but you can click HERE to find Like Friends Do on AO3 or click HERE to read Call Me Friend... on AO3. Or, you can read the first chapter to Call Me Friend... below! Thanks so much for reading!

Chapter 1

No matter how tough he acted, when Bakugou closed his eyes, he was alone. He was alone, vulnerable, and even scared, and no matter how hard he tried to stay awake and fend off the nightmares that fought for his undying attention, he always succumbed to sleep, and always succumbed to those nightmares.

When he first started at U.A., those nightmares that ripped at him were liquid and drowning him, like that villain idiot Deku had tried to fight all on his own. He still scowled at the thought. However, continuing on his journey at U.A. supplied nightmare fuel, throwing gasoline on the raging fire, spreading it up his arms and legs until he laid petrified in his bed, trying to control his body the way his dreams controlled his brain. His muscles strained and so did his mind. And, of course, when they moved into the dorm the nightmares only surged with the new impossibility to rush from his bedroom in search of his mother.

Not that he did it often, really – maybe once a week, or so. Most of the time his mother would be asleep on the couch, having fallen asleep there waiting for his father to return home from work. She’d turn her head, see Bakugou standing there with cold sweat clinging to his cheeks like condensation on a can of soda on a hot summer day, and she’d throw her head back and laugh weakly, ask what he dreamt about that night. And Bakugou would grumble something condescending, a “None of your fuckin’ business,” his mother would chide him for his language, and they’d go to the kitchen and make hot cocoa and sip it quietly together. Until his father’s key sounded in the door, then they’d forgo the mugs of hot cocoa and Bakugou would disappear into his room, and his mother would lounge herself on the couch again. And they wouldn’t speak about it until the next time it happened.

U.A. was different. His mom wasn’t waiting for him on the couch in the commons, and most of the time the hot cocoa mix was gone from the shared pantry. He retired to bed early, but he never actually went to sleep; he would lie down and keep his eyes open, count the ceiling tiles over and over and over. He knew how many there were, but the excitement that maybe the number would equate to something else one day kept him counting them in favor of his nightmares.

Bakugou relied on counting his ceiling tiles to keep him awake at night, but to stay awake during the long school day he relied on his coffee. He’d often make his way down to the commons and stumble the path to the kitchen to start a pot, usually waiting until five but sometimes going as early as two in the morning just to taste something besides the bile on his tongue from his ever-sleepy state.

Not that black coffee was a particularly good remedy, but at least the aftertaste clung to his tongue and gave him something else to be disgusted with.

It had only been about a week since they moved into the dorms and already Bakugou felt the homesickness, building its way from the lump in his stomach until he felt that dull, annoying pain in his throat. He hadn’t slept more than the impromptu naps when his eyes accidentally fell shut counting ceiling tiles, and even then those naps only lasted an hour or two. He knew he looked awful, couldn’t bring himself to look in the mirror to even try to fix his rugged appearance.

It was Sunday night. He excused himself to bed at eight o’clock that night from the commons, with little complaint from anyone aside from Kaminari, who wanted to play Wii and knew from personal experience that Bakugou always lost Wii bowling. He almost thought about staying, but then idiot Deku sat on the couch with that half-and-half bastard by his side, and he couldn’t stomach the thought of losing in front of either of them (or losing to Kaminari, really) and went upstairs. He’d laid himself on his bed, fiddled with his cell phone until the battery died, then counted the ceiling tiles. After the sixtieth or so time, he glanced at his digital alarm clock; it was nearly one in the morning, and if anyone was still downstairs they’d likely fallen asleep by then.

He threw his slippers onto his feet and grumpily stormed down the stairs; he didn’t trust himself to ride the elevator and not to fall asleep standing up in the short trip to the common area.

Bakugou wasn’t a quiet person, usually, and the same went for when he slammed open the stairwell door to the common area. If anyone was still down here then hopefully they were lucky enough not to be a light sleeper. The television was still on, Bakugou could see it splaying heavy shadows across the common area and partly into the kitchen, and he scoffed. Mineta probably left it on again. He trudged towards it, ready to shut it off when he heard a voice.

“Bakugou?”

He flinched, probably would have jumped in fear had he not been so tired. He craned his head towards the couch, his finger hovering just in front of the off button on the television. Kirishima sat there, one hand rubbing at his eye lazily. “Why’re you still awake?” he asked with a delicate yawn, that somehow even being the most well-built person in the class made him appear like a child.

“Couldn’t fuckin’ sleep,” Bakugou grouched with a scowl forming harsh lines on his forehead. He paused for a second, didn’t really care to know, even, but muttered a quiet, “What about you?”

“Game’s almost done,” he pointed to the television screen. It was a hockey game, probably super unimportant, in its third overtime. “I’m rooting for the red team,” he explained.

“You’re losing sleep over this,” it wasn’t so much a question as a blatant statement, an accusation, really.

“It’s the Stanley Cup final, Bakugou! Do you not understand how important that is?” Somehow Kirishima managed to animate despite his tired nature, and maybe Bakugou’s lips would have fought with the oncoming of a smile if he wasn’t so damn tired himself.

“It’s not important,” Bakugou countered sternly. “It’s a sport. They run at each other and try to move the thing to the other thing. It’s boring.”

“Oh, quit being so sour,” Kirishima teased. “You okay, bro? You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

Bakugou, despite himself, wandered over to the couch and flopped down beside Kirishima. “I haven’t,” he grumbled, his voice distant and quiet and raspy with the want to just go to bed.

“You’ve been really shaken up since—”

“It doesn’t fuckin’ matter,” Bakugou spat. He didn’t need Kirishima to worry. He didn’t want Kirishima to worry. He didn’t want anyone to worry, really; this kind of thing happened to heroes, and if he couldn’t take it like a hero, he couldn’t be a hero.

“If you don’t get any sleep you’re going to fall asleep during class,” Kirishima stated pointedly. His eyes remained on the television, and for that Bakugou was grateful, because the scowl on his face was probably quite ugly looking.

Not that he cared if Kirishima thought he looked ugly.

“I’ll be fine, Shitty Hair,” he muttered. Their shoulders brushed with how close they were, but neither of them moved away. Somehow, the atmosphere here felt much more comfortable than his quiet bedroom with a ceiling that had exactly fort-two ceiling tiles every time he counted. He watched the game, followed one player at a time to try and stay awake, but really the thing that kept him up was Kirishima’s quiet cheers and sudden eruptions of “oh, c’mon” or “good play” when Bakugou couldn’t even decipher what had happened.

A quiet settled around them after the game ended. The red team won, and while Kirishima looked especially happy about it, he kept his cheers to a minimum. Bakugou’s eyes had settled into an ever-squinting state with how tired he was, and even the dimmed television screen felt too bright on his oversensitive eyes. Kirishima turned the volume down on the television as the game transitioned into interviews with the winning team. “So, what’s up?” he asked, as if Bakugou had just gotten there.

“I still can’t sleep, Shitty Hair,” Bakugou shot back, though his insults lacked malice.

“Well, obviously,” Kirishima laughed. “I mean, why did you stay down here? Normally you’d have gone back to bed by now.”

“I…” Bakugou pursed his lips. Why had he stayed down here? Kirishima was right, as much as he hated to admit it; any other time he walked in on Kirishima watching some stupid sports match on the television, he turned on his heel and went the exact opposite direction. “I need to take a walk,” he grumbled finally, and dragged his body off the couch with more effort than he’d like to admit. Damn couch, why was it so fucking comfortable?

“In your slippers?” Kirishima hopped up just after him. “I mean, I won’t stop you, but I’m going to come with you.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” Bakugou barked tiredly.

“Because you look like you’ll pass out if you go,” Kirishima shrugged. “I don’t want you to pass out and have some vultures try to eat you, or whatever.”

“Do you even know what vultures do? Do you know where vultures live?” Bakugou gripped the bridge of his nose. He didn’t have time for Kirishima’s idiocy right now.

“Around dead bodies,” Kirishima said with all the confidence in the world. “And if you pass out in the middle of the ground, you’ll look like a dead body.”

“That’s so—” Bakugou sighed, hoping it portrayed his irritation. “Look,” he said finally, “I’m going to go for a walk and I’m going to come back in an hour, and you’re not going to tell anyone about it. Got it, Shitty Hair?”

“Okay,” Kirishima nodded. Bakugou took a step towards the door. Kirishima followed.

“Why are you following me?” Bakugou hissed.

“You didn’t tell me I couldn’t,” Kirishima shrugged.

“Well, you can’t! Leave me the fuck alone!”

He took another step. Kirishima followed.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ lose it,” Bakugou grumbled, weak sparks playing at his fingertips.

“I’m coming with you,” Kirishima said, stamped his foot down to prove how serious he was. And well, Kirishima was kind of a stubborn bastard, so eventually Bakugou sighed his defeat and together they walked out of the dormitory.

The U.A. campus was well-lit, even at night. Streetlamps illuminated their path as they trudged aimlessly through the winding trails on campus, passing over a bridge with a small creek running below it on the way to one of the lesser known trails. They didn’t speak the entire way there, not until Kirishima exhaled and threw his head back to stare at the sky above them. “Bakugou,” he started tentatively, “maybe you should get some counseling.”

“Fuck off, Shitty Hair!” Bakugou barked, loudly enough that some birds in nearby trees sprung free from their nests and flew off into the night air. Kirishima just laughed; Bakugou’s loud, demanding voice no longer had control over him. “Quit laughing! That seriously wasn’t fuckin’ funny, asshole!”

“I’m not saying it to be an asshole,” Kirishima replied quietly. He spoke softly into the night around them, as if afraid to wake anyone. “I’m saying it because I care about you.”

Bakugou frowned. His forehead creased in a tired, cranky scowl, and he wished more than anything to be curled up in bed and asleep – perhaps knocked unconscious, so that his dreams were less potent. “Will you punch me in the face?” he asked with a grunt, and Kirishima startled beside him.

“You’re joking, right?” a nervous laugh bubbled from his lips. “That was a joke. Ha ha, Bakugou. So funny.”

“I’m not joking,” Bakugou snapped back. “I can’t sleep. Knock me out, Shitty Hair.”

“Well, first, we’re like, half a mile from the dorms and I’m not carrying you back. And second, that’s a really stupid idea. Usually I have the stupid ideas.”

Bakugou huffed. He never wanted to admit vulnerability, really, but maybe if Kirishima just understood what he was going through, maybe he’d agree. Maybe, if he was lucky, he’d get more than a few hours of sleep from the exchange.

“I can’t stop dreaming about it,” he said, voice suddenly dry and raspy and strained just to admit that.

Kirishima glanced over at him, eyebrow arched as if to encourage him to continue. They’d turned around and were crossing the bridge again, and despite Bakugou wanting to just go back, chug a scalding hot cup of coffee and stare aimlessly at his ceiling tiles, he sat and let his legs dangle over the edge of the creek. Kirishima sat next to him, and their shoulders brushed, and in the cool late-summer air the contact felt reassuringly warm.

Bakugou exhaled, stared at the creek below, listening to its soft lullaby of rushing water. “I just—all I see is them, and all I think about is how easily they could have killed me…”

“But they didn’t,” Kirishima reminded.

“…Right,” Bakugou nodded finally. “They didn’t. So why the fuck am I so…” he gestured wildly with his hands, a scowl on his face.

“Scared?” Kirishima supplied.

“Hell no,” Bakugou replied. Then, softly, “Heroes can’t be scared.”

“Why not?”

“That’s not what heroes do.”

Kirishima shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “I don’t think that’s it,” he said thoughtfully. “I think it’s more that they act because they’re scared, not that they don’t get scared at all.”

Bakugou pondered this, but with his head so clouded with the lulling creek and the steady hum of crickets and soft hooting owls around them, he barely had room in his tired mind to contemplate a complete change of beliefs. His head hurt, it hurt like hell, and he just wanted to rest it somewhere. So he did; he let his head fall to Kirishima’s shoulder, with only a second of hesitation.

Kirishima tensed below his cheek. “Don’t tell anyone about this, Shitty Hair,” Bakugou grumbled. Kirishima relaxed, then, and a soft laugh escaped him.

“Sure, Bakugou.”

***

Sleep continued to evade him, even more so now that someone – Kirishima, of all people – knew his secret.

He laid awake, counted his ceiling tiles (still forty-two, just like six and a half minutes ago), idly passing a spark between his fingertips when someone knocked on his door. He tensed; the clock read nearly one in the morning, and he almost dreaded that his nightmares had become tangible and came to him another way since he continuously refused sleep. The knock came again, a little louder, and on trembling, fatigued limbs he crossed his room to the door.

He exhaled, relief practically visible in his breath. “What do you want, Shitty Hair. It’s like, one in the morning.”

“I didn’t think you’d be asleep,” he replied with a shrug.

“What if I was and you just woke me up, asshole?”

Kirishima shrugged again. “Were you asleep?”

“…No.”

“Can I come in?”

Bakugou didn’t know why, but he stepped aside, let Kirishima enter his room. He noticed then that Kirishima had a mug in his hand, one with a little tea bag floating unceremoniously inside. “Uh, I dug through the pantry and found this,” he said with a sheepish smile. He set the mug on Bakugou’s bedside table. “It’s supposed to help you fall asleep.”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid, asshole!” Bakugou barked. Kirishima clamped a hand over his mouth to quiet him, and sparks erupted from Bakugou’s fingertips. Kirishima moved his hand away.

“I think you just need to sleep,” he said quietly.

“You fuckin’ think?” Bakugou replied in a mocking tone. “Fuckin’ Deku kicked my ass in training today. I must be nearly fuckin’ dead.”

“So then why don’t you?” Kirishima asked, settled down onto the desk chair and spun it with his foot idly.

Bakugou scowled, kicking half-heartedly at the chair to stop him from spinning so much. “Damnit, Shitty Hair, don’t you get it?!”

“Yeah,” Kirishima said quietly, his eyes settling on Bakugou’s uncomfortably. “I do. A lot of us do.”

“They thought I was a villain.”

Bakugou’s voice dropped barely above a whisper, and Kirishima almost thought he didn’t hear him properly, but seeing the way Bakugou’s body shrunk in its place he frowned deeply. “Katsu—”

“Don’t,” Bakugou shot, his small appearance vanishing behind his tough façade. “I don’t need your pity.”

“I’m not here to pity you,” Kirishima replied, his voice calm and quiet. “I’m here to help you get some sleep. You’re even more insufferably angry when you’re grumpy, bro.”

“The fuck did you say?!” Bakugou snarled, and sparks tickled his fingertips, but not much more came of it. He was weak, fatigued; his Quirk barely felt warmer than a candle flame now. He knew he couldn’t intimidate Kirishima even when his Quirk was at his strongest, because somehow Kirishima already knew that Bakugou couldn’t ever hurt him. Well, not seriously, anyway; if he didn’t stop spinning in that damn desk chair Bakugou might light his sock on fire.

“I said you need to go to bed,” Kirishima said sternly. He picked up the mug and forced it into Bakugou’s hands, which were still quite on fire and made the tea steam again. “Please, bro. I’m not the only one who’s worried.”

“Whoever else it is, tell them to stop being such fuckin’ sissies,” Bakugou grumbled, but still he brought the mug to his lips. The tea tasted better than bitter black coffee, certainly, but not by much.

Kirishima chuckled, and Bakugou felt the nerve to punch him in the face because it really wasn’t a joke, everyone around here was such a sissy. But he didn’t, because again, it was Kirishima, and Kirishima had to be the only student, nay, only person at U.A. who had the authority to not be subject to his wrath. Kirishima and All Might. That was it.

Kirishima rose from the desk chair, wobbled a bit because of how hard he’d been spinning the chair. “I’m gonna go get some sleep myself,” he said. Hesitantly, he laid a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder, suddenly looking quite serious. “Let me know if you need anything. Okay?”

Bakugou wanted to respond with a snide comment, but instead he only mustered a quiet “Okay”, and just as quickly as Kirishima had laid his hand there he was gone. Gone, and Bakugou was alone, again, the dark ready to consume him.

***

He slept. Four hours, his grand total for the week at seven and it was goddamn Friday, but somehow he felt even worse than when he hadn’t slept. It was four in the morning when he finally stormed the commons, threw open the stairway doors like he tended to do, and went straight for the coffee pot.

Which was already running.

“’Morning,” Kirishima grumbled, leaning casually against the counter just next to the coffee pot. He yawned, that delicate yawn that totally betrayed his entire being, and gave a casual wave. “I got it started for you.”

“Why the fuck are you awake, Shitty Hair?!”

“Why are you?” Kirishima countered. The coffee pot dinged, probably the only sound that had given Bakugou serotonin in the past few weeks (aside from Kirishima’s laugh, but that was an anomaly he’d rather tackle when he was more awake).

“Bad dream,” Bakugou griped, finally crossing the room and digging through the cabinets. He searched for his favorite mug – the one themed after him that he’d found in one of those cheap trinket-y hero merch shops – and slammed the cupboard door shut when he couldn’t find it. His scowl burrowed trenches in his forehead, and to be honest it hurt to frown this hard, but then he could keep his mind off the pain literally everywhere else.

Kirishima dangled the Bakugou-themed mug by its handle delicately from his finger. “Looking for this?”

“Give it here,” Bakugou said, balling his fists. His hands got hot, but they didn’t spark, and he wondered if he’d finally run out of juice.

Kirishima handed it over with a sort of sad-looking smile. “This isn’t healthy, pal,” he said softly.

“Fuck you, I drink it black,” Bakugou rebutted.

“I’m not talking about the damn coffee,” Kirishima snapped, and Bakugou didn’t know the last time Kirishima had sounded this angry with him. “I’m talking about the not-sleeping.”

“Who needs fuckin’ sleep?” Bakugou griped.

“You, asshole!”

They went quiet for a moment. Then, Bakugou snatched the mug from Kirishima’s outstretched hand and poured himself a full mug of coffee. His hands trembled as he did, and he wished he could control it. God, this was pathetic. He was pathetic.

“I know you think you never need help,” Kirishima said, his head upturned to stare at the ceiling. Bakugou wondered if counting the ceiling tiles in here would be more interesting than the ones upstairs.

“Heroes shouldn’t rely on anyone.”

“Bro, sidekicks are literally a thing.”

“What are you saying?” Bakugou sipped the coffee, still scalding, but at least the pain granted him a new source of focus besides the aches and pains across his entire body.

“I’ll be your sidekick,” he decided. “And you can lean on me. And I could…”

“What?” Bakugou barked.

Kirishima shook his head, laughed quietly. “I could be your sidekick, ya know? A partner in crime, or whatever!”

Bakugou watched him for a moment, deciphered that yes, he was being serious, and snorted a bit. “I’m going to work alone. Number one hero duty isn’t easy.”

“You plan to get there without help?” Kirishima raised his voice now. Bakugou couldn’t puzzle out why he was so angry; he thought Kirishima certainly didn’t want to be held back by the title of ‘sidekick’. He talked about being a top ten hero himself someday, though he never strived for number one because he knew that’s where Bakugou was headed.

“That’s how All Might—”

“You’re not All Might.” Kirishima’s lips pursed, and he trembled; Bakugou wondered how mad he was. “Nobody is All Might besides All Might, and All Might…” he drifted off.

Bakugou scoffed and turned away finally. “I’m going upstairs,” he grumbled. He began his journey back to the stairwell, hesitated just a moment at the door. Then, tentatively, he turned back. Kirishima still remained in the same place in the kitchen, yawned again. “Thanks for the coffee, Shitty Hair,” he muttered, and before so much as a ‘You’re welcome’ he stepped into the stairwell and slammed the door behind him.

***

“Bakugou, we’re going to train! Want to come with?”

Bakugou cracked an eye open. He’d reclined on one of the couches in the commons, his neck uncomfortable with his heavy head against the back of the couch but his limbs too fatigued to care. Sero stood above him, with Ashido and Kaminari by his side. “Fuck off,” Bakugou grunted in response, and he let his eye fall closed again.

“Don’t be an asshole,” Ashido whined, and she peeled his eye open. He swatted at her hand and she drew back with a nervous laugh. “C’mon, we could use your angry cussing to keep us motivated!”

“If you want motivation, ask fuckin’ Deku.”

“What was that?” Midoriya called from his spot at the dining table, where he, Iida, Ochaco, and Todoroki worked on homework.

“Fuck off, nerd,” Bakugou shouted back.

“Sure thing, Kacchan!”

Kirishima fell onto the couch next to Bakugou with a huff. “Bakugou and I are watching a movie,” he stated bluntly.

“Sorry, wouldn’t want to interrupt your date,” Ashido sneered, and Bakugou was about to yell back at her to go fuck herself, but he stopped himself when he noticed the way Kirishima’s cheeks erupted into a blush.

“Fuck’s she on?” he settled for instead, muttered under his breath as he scooted a bit closer to Kirishima.

Nothing had changed between them. Bakugou couldn’t recall a moment that could count as something ‘changing’ between them, at least. But he felt more…comfortable around Kirishima. More at ease, even a little happier. Which made no sense, because something would have had to change between them. It bothered him, that he couldn’t pinpoint a specific moment where the air suddenly shifted around them; but then, something had to have happened. Right?

Kirishima prodded his side with his elbow. “Something wrong?” he asked quietly. Tsuyu and Sato baked a cake in the kitchen and the aforementioned study group took over the dining table, and Kirishima really didn’t want their conversation overheard. After all, if Kirishima accidentally let slip his and Bakugou’s secret, Bakugou likely wouldn’t hold back his reign of terror.

Well, if he ever did manage to get some more sleep, that was.

“Nothing,” Bakugou grunted. “Turn on the movie, Shitty Hair.”

One movie turned into two. Students filtered through the commons, excused themselves to their rooms one by one. About halfway through the first movie Sato brought each of them a piece of coffee cake, Tsuyu a frog cookie for each of them. When Kaminari, Ashido and Sero returned from training, they settled for a while, booed at the movie at serious parts and laughed way too loudly at parts that weren’t funny. Bakugou would have blasted the television by now if he wasn’t so tired, his head lolling on Kirishima’s shoulder every once in a while. If Kirishima minded, he certainly didn’t say so.

Shortly after the second movie started, Ashido, Sero, and Kaminari decided they were bored and instead flocked to Sero’s room to play cards. By then it was nearing nine o’clock, the time that the common area cleared out significantly. Kirishima and Bakugou’s dishes from the sweets were stacked neatly in front of them on the coffee table, and Bakugou fought to keep his eyes open. Once he was certain they were alone, Kirishima hesitantly wrapped an arm around Bakugou’s shoulders.

Bakugou tensed. “What are you doing, Shitty Hair,” he said with a little apprehension in his voice.

“Nobody’s here,” Kirishima insisted. “Just…go to sleep.”

“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do, asshole.”

“It might be better with someone there.”

Bakugou froze, glanced over at him. “Fuck do you mean?”

“Like—” Kirishima blushed, playing with his hair with the hand that wasn’t on Bakugou’s shoulder. “I dunno. I always slept better when someone was there, ya know?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Just like—go to sleep, Katsuki.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Then go to sleep and I won’t.”

Bakugou scowled, but eventually he relaxed in Kirishima’s half-embrace. They continued to watch the movie, but about halfway through Kirishima noticed that Bakugou hadn’t made any snide comments about the main character in a while. He glanced down, saw that Bakugou’s eyes had fallen shut, his breathing nearly completely leveled out. And he sighed, a bit grateful he’d been able to play off such a bold move so well, and let his head rest against Bakugou’s.

He fell asleep too, and only awoke when the early-morning weekend chatter of Midoriya and Todoroki filtered through the commons. They had a tendency to get up early – usually seven or eight on the weekends – and today was no exception. Kirishima glanced at his phone; it was barely seven fifteen. He quickly hoisted Bakugou off him, who grumbled something and slumped to the other side of the couch, continued to sleep peacefully.

“Oh, did you sleep down here?” Midoriya asked, seeing a head of hair poke up from the couch.

“Yeah,” Kirishima rubbed his neck, trying to work out the soreness that always came from sleeping on the couch. “Movie ran long.”

“We’re going to train,” Todoroki spoke from behind Midoriya. “Want to come?”

“No thanks,” Kirishima waved his hand dismissively. “Too tired still.”

“Ah, sorry for waking you!” Midoriya chirped. He and Todoroki filed unceremoniously out of the dormitory, quieting their conversation to whispers in order for Kirishima to go back to sleep.

He thought about going upstairs, catching the last few hours of rest in his own bed. But then, he didn’t want Bakugou to wake up without him here. There was the worry that Bakugou would be mad if he stayed, though; Bakugou tended towards irrational anger, and Kirishima felt he was damned if he did or didn’t. He settled for the most in-between option he could and hoisted himself from the couch, padded across the floor to the kitchen. His clothes were wrinkled and a little smelly, his hair lost most of its volume, and he probably had imprints from the couch cushions along his face, but he didn’t care.

He started the coffee pot, and that unceremonious ding made Bakugou’s blond head shoot up from the couch, looking this way and that before finally turning around. The bags under his eyes were still visible from here, as was the grumpy scowl on his face, but he looked a lot better than he had even the night before. Kirishima smiled to himself, poured a mug of coffee for each of them (his loaded with vanilla creamer, of course) and sat on the couch beside Bakugou.

“Shitty Bed Hair,” Bakugou grunted in greeting.

“How’d you sleep?” Kirishima handed him a mug.

Bakugou hesitated. “Great,” he admitted quietly, and he might have commented on the slight blush on Bakugou’s cheeks if he’d lost his will to live.

“I’m glad,” he settled for instead, sipping his own coffee.

“Not because of you,” Bakugou clarified with a grumble. “These damn couches are just so fuckin’ comfortable.”

“Oh, right, of course.”

They sat there and drank their coffees together, words unnecessary between them as they occasionally bumped shoulders and brushed thighs. More students filtered through the commons as the sun rose outside, and eventually Kirishima rose and drew the curtains back from the windows to let the light in. He sat back down while Bakugou grunted a protest, but he didn’t make a move to get up and put the curtains back himself.

Tokoyami settled himself down on one of the other couches, and Jirou and Yaoyorozu joined them as well with mugs of hot cocoa. Conversation drifted around Kirishima and Bakugou, and while occasionally they’d add their commentary (mostly Kirishima; Bakugou glared straight ahead, probably looking for a way to escape the situation), their nonverbal conversation continued up until their last elbow-bump. Then, quite suddenly, Bakugou rose to his feet and left his mug in the kitchen, then went upstairs with the excuse of going to bed.

“Did you guys have a movie marathon, or something?” Jirou asked as she sipped her drink.

Kirishima shook his head. “No, we fell asleep down here at like, ten.”

“So why’s he going to bed, then?” Yaoyorozu pressed, though Kirishima knew they were only asking him because they were too frightened to ask Bakugou themselves.

Kirishima hummed in thought. He knew the most likely answer was that Bakugou wanted to escape the situation, but part of him wondered if he’d meant it; that part of him hoped, truly, that Bakugou would shut himself in his room and re-emerge that evening fully rested and back to his normal cranky. Because, frankly, his fatigued cranky was a little mean.

#kiribaku #mha #my hero #my hero academia #ao3 #ao3feed #bnha eijiro kirishima #bakugou katsuki #bnha fic

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starryse · 4 years

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Café of Hell- Literally

Kim Taehyung Demon! Au

Genre: fluff, angst, humor, fantasy, demons

Group: BTS (Taehyung)

Pairing: Demon!Taehyun X female! reader

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For the past 3 months you’ve been working at the coffee shop near your university, which luckily for you, was only a few minutes away. The tips were always generous and the customers were polite, even if you messed up their order. Sure it was a minimum wage job that didn’t exactly allow you to buy gucci, but it paid your student debts and kept the electric on in your small apartment down the street. Plus, you just happened to be favored by your boss and receive discounts on all coffee drinks, how good for you since most nights when you got home from school were spent cramming in study guides and chugging down the cold vanilla latte from that morning. And the same happened to go for you now, as you sat on your grey carpeted bedroom floor, iron-man socks clad to your sprawled out legs, highlighter clutched in your hand as notes were scratched across your sociology homework that just happened to be due first thing tomorrow. The clock seemed to speed up when you really needed it to stop just long enough to finish this and rush to the night shift at work. Night shifts weren’t rare for you, so to have to rush through your homework and scramble around to get ready were almost a normal thing in your apartment. As soon as you finished the question you had spent ages on, the playlist that was once on shuffle was shut off as you stuffed the papers into your bag by the messy bed that had all your notes and clothes clustered from the headboard, all the way to the bottom where you stood. Tossing the floral bag onto the havoc looking bed, you pulled the hair-tie off of your wrist, threading it around your disheveled hair away from your face. You puffed your cheeks out as a breath of air came out, taking in a single moment of silence before you continued to run around your apartment getting ready. The curtains that were originally tied up were now flowing down the window, and the pumpkin candle aroma that filled your cozy apartment started slowly dying down as the smoke from the flame took its place. After tossing your laptop into your bag and grabbing your phone off its charger, you quickly shuffled your away through the door, locking it in the process.“5 minutes to spare tonight, nice Y/N” You glanced down to the time on your phone, taking a quick break from rushing to work, knowing you finally had time to get to work unlike the previous days where time was just a figure of your imagination.. In other words, you were so late out the door your boss thought you died. Typically you would drive to work since it had been either highly cold or pouring outside, but today was different. You were actually on your way early this time and the weather was calm and breezy, unlike every other day in your life. The cream colored building came into your view as you rounded the corner of the cafe.

The bell chimed as you stepped into the shop, the smell of coffee and the warmth of the heaters immediately hitting you. Shrugging off your long coat that held past your knees, you were met with the familiar face of your boss.“Somethings wrong, you’re never here when you’re scheduled to be. Who died? Do I need to call animal control?” The older lady’s face was filled with concern, but the underlying smile was clearly visible as she took the coat of your arms and hung it up on the employees rack. You smiled at that, rolling your eyes at Miss Kim's way of playing around.“Actually yeah you should, I saw that creepy guy back out there hugging the lamp pole, he doesn’t seem to ferile to be around people” Jeongyeon spoke up behind the cashier as she poured the frothy coffee into the cup, passing it to her customer. You walked behind the counter, grabbing your apron and tying it around your waist, “And I think I saw him at the market the other day. I overheard him talking about the “scary black eyed people he saw coming out of the cafe” i’m slightly concerned for him” you snickered at your friends comment, walking over to the register starting to work as quickly as possible, “Dudes probably on drugs or something, maybe he had one of Miss.Kim’s special drinks as she calls them” Jeongyeon chuckled at that, grinning at the inside joke between the two of you, as she proceeded to clean out the machines.

A few hours passed as your shift came close to an end, the last customer had ordered their drink as you locked up the register for the night, with only the machines left to be shut down. Jeongyeon had left an hour ago, leaving just you and Miss.Kim in the dimly lit shop. You tugged of your apron, replacing your coat on the rack, and began to clean around the cafe before you made your way home. As you swept the coffee beans off the floors, a sigh came from behind you.“y/n, dear, I know you have an early class in the morning but you’re the only one I can rely on with this.” miss Kim began, as she walked around the counter to you, placing her coat over her shoulders and slipping her white gloves onto her hands, “I really have to get home to Insu, apparently even at 15 the boy can’t be left alone without getting into trouble” Kim looked up from buttoning her coat, swinging her purse onto her shoulder, “Anyways, would you be the sweetest angel and lock up the cafe for me? Just make sure the doors are locked and the files are put away and locked up, it should only take another hour ish I promise! I’ll add more money to your paycheck, and it’d really help me out.” The stammering lady finally stopped rambling as she glanced up to you in hopes you say yes.You force a smile onto your face as you peer down to the aging lady, “Of course, Miss Kim, as long as you get home safely to Insu!” you usher the frazzled woman to the door, making sure to keep the smile on your face.“Oh thank you y/n, you’re such a dear!” Miss Kim opened the fairy light framed door, as she began to rush to her small car in the parking lot.

You groaned, tugging out your ponytail, letting your hair cascade to your shoulders. The look of joy was nowhere near evident on your face, as the dark circles under your eyes seemed to be even more prominent. “Alright y/n, all you have to do is lock the doors and you can go. Then you can get home to your warm house with all your fluffy blankets. Let’s get this done.” You grabbed the keys to the file cabinet in the storage room, putting all of Kim’s important documents away into safe keeping in the locked room. As you walked out to the counters you heard the familiar rumbling sound from the world outside. You popped your head up, looking out the large windows in the shop, being met with the large drops of rain pouring down onto the pavement. Streaks of purple lightning could be seen hitting trees in the farther distance, signaling a storm was beginning. As if you hadn’t groaned a lot previously that day, you did it again just for shits and giggles. The frustration that was hidden in you was slowly bubbling up to the surface as the realization that you weren’t going to get home until even later that night set it. How fantastic. Before your luck went downhill like the rain, you remembered the sticker covered laptop you brought with you for break earlier that day. After making yourself a pumpkin chai latte, you settled in the booth against the corner of the moon lit cafe, pulling out your laptop and opening up the new drama you began a few days ago.

The previously filled cup was now halfway empty and becoming cold as you shifted against the cushioned bench, the rain pouring outside not seeming to let up. The clock on your laptop read 12:13 a.m. You had officially been there for another two hours than intended, and from the looks outside it was going to be even longer. Your eyes began to feel heavy as your focus on the drama was fading, drowsiness taking over you as it got later and later. A loud crash from the room behind you quickly awakend your senses, your eyes widening and head shooting up from its position against your laptops keyboard. Not knowing whether to get up and investigate or shrivel up in the corner like a coward, you froze in your spot, waiting for another sound or a figure to come out. This was not how you planned on going out, half asleep and huddled on a bench in your workplace at 12 am. Growing tired of waiting, you gained the courage to seek out the cause of the crash. You stood up from the bench, shutting your laptop quietly and slipping your shoes back on. You silently began to move over to the counters, scanning around the dark shop. The air was tense and the only sound that could be heard was the rain slamming against the walls of the cafe. Your body rounded the corner before your eyes could look past the wall, and the first thing your round eyes set on was the large shadowy figure standing over the coffee pot. A shriek left your drying mouth, as you scrambled away from the figure. The shadow visibly jumped back, dropping the coffee in the process.

“Ah damnit! Look what you made me do, I was excited to drink that!” A deep voice cut through the room, covering up the loud sound of you panting. “Wait a minute, what the hell are you doing here, you shouldn’t be here?!” The mysterious person turned towards your attention as you were splat against the beige wall, hands gripping onto the plant that was previously on the counter. The man sniggered as he looked over you, “what exactly do you think the little leafy plants going to do? Health me to death?” You looked down to the plant that was tightly pressed against your chest, then back up to the owner of the laugh. His eyes were set on you as you scanned over him. His hair was dark and ruffled against his forehead and his eyes seemed to have a vague glint to them as he smirked at you. His shoulders were wide as he stood tall against the counter, his dark jacket covering his broad chest. You made no sudden movements, rather you just continued to stare up at the man, as you fiddled with the plant in your grasp.

“Um okay. Well I’m Taehyung! What’s your name girl who planned on hitting me with a plant?” Taehyung extended his hand over the register, a rather boxy grin etching across his face. Fuck it. You reached out to shake the males hand, slightly smiling (honestly you just look frightened) at him, “y- y/n” The handsome guy shook your hand, locking eyes with you in the process.

“Cool cool, nice to meet you, I think, y/n. I’m just gonna make my coffee if you don’t mind.” Taehyung turned around, releasing your hand, and began to remake the drink you made him drop. Your mouth finally closed after hanging open, all form of moisture gone, Sahara desert maybe? After relishing in whatever just happened with the stranger, your senses finally kicked in.With a shake of your head, you stepped up from the wall and walked over to where the mysterious boy was making his coffee.

“How did you even get in here? I had those doors locked?!” You watched Taehyung pour his coffee into a travel mug, God knows where he found that, the coffee filling all the way to the top of the lid, the froth foaming over the edges of the cup. The white substance dripped onto the countertops, eventually slipping down the cabinets to the floor you JUST mopped.

“Dude cmon I JUST cleaned those floors, that took my pure labor man” you rolled your eyes at the boy who seemed to brush off the fact you just worked to make the floors spotless. Taehyung took a swig of his coffee before turning to face you, walking around the counters to where you were, sitting on top of the light grey counter top. The honey skinned man watched as you reached for a napkin from the nearby booth, wiping away the mess the latter had made. A toothy grin made its way onto his features, something about watching you poor humans work just made him all joyful inside.

After tossing the soaked coffee stained napkin into the trash bin, you scoffed at the sugar packets left around the coffee pot. Seriously, the dude was raised in the depths of Hell I swear, what decent human being doesn’t toss their garbage? The sweet sound of silence filled the air as you clean the rest of the strangers mess, the drowsiness you felt earlier completely discarded. Taehyung clears his throat, setting down his cup, “To answer your question, I got in through the floor. You humans and your pointless questions, how else do you think I’d get in if you locked the door? Do you expect me to crawl through the window, possibly getting my Versace jacket caught in the frame? So weird.” Taehyung sighed, leaning back on the counter, his hands pressing against the cool material. He pursed his head over his shoulder, dark strands of hair falling gently over his eyelashes, as he watched your face crumble with confusion. You uncrouch your knees from your spot in front of the trash bin, facing the weird boy to your left.

“Did you just say you came up through the floor? And I can float through walls too, right?” You boasted with your answer, walking back over to the bench you were in before the ruckus Taehyung caused. The devil himself kicked off the countertop, nearing his eyes at you,

“I don’t know CAN you? You don’t have to believe me, y/n, you shouldn’t even be here right now talking to me in the first place.” He scoffed, taking a seat on the chair opposite of you. You pulled a face at the arrogant man, “last time I checked you’re the one talking to me and I'M the one that works here, in reality I should’ve called the cops ages ago.” Taehyung scowled in your direction, his tone lowering (if that was even possible with this dudes voice dayum) “Call the cops, I really want to see how that works out for you, human.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, rubbing your cheeks afterwords, distaste was evident across your expression. “Human? You’re a human too, dumbass. Seriously what’s wrong with you, you’re the one that came in here, made a mess, and now you’re acting as if you have the rig to be an ass? Bitch please, eat a snickers.” Regaining his composure, Taehyung slouched back in his chair, realizing that arguing with this girl wasn’t even worth his precious time. He had an eternity to live, why spend it arguing with a mere human girl he’ll never see again once the gates open. Taehyung hummed in response, craning his head around to look out the window. The rain was falling down as hard as ever, and the lightning has not ceased up since you last checked it, before you were jolted up from Taehyungs presence.

“It looks like the rain isn’t going to stop anytime soon, why don’t we play this civil until one of us leaves, hm?l Taehyung glances over at you, his eyebrows raising slightly waiting for your response. Your lips pursed together as you sucked on your lip, your baby pink vans tapping against the table leg. As you thought about what Taehying said, your leg still pressing against the table leg every so often, the sudden grip against your ankle causing you to blink up in surprise. “I said to be civil, I didn’t think that meant kicking my leg with your foot every 20 seconds.” You pulled your leg from Taehyungs hand, tucking it behind your other leg in front of you, your cheeks flushing the same color as your shoes.

“Sorry it’s a habit. But yeah cool civil I can do that whatever.” You rested your chin on your palm, leaning against the table. The two of you sat in silence listening to the rain drop against the roof of the café. As the night progressed and the storm carried on, the temperatures lowered to much colder weather than earlier, causing the chilly breeze from the howling wind outside to seep through the cracks in the shops door. The cold current snuck to the table, right along your arms, causing you to shiver and wrap your arms around yourself for some warmth. You stood up from the spot you were glued to the last half hour, brushing the hair away from your eyes. “I’m gonna go turn up the thermostat, I’m unfortunately not cold blooded so I’m getting chilly. Do you need another coffee or whatever it is you drink?” Taehyung peered through the crack in his arms from resting his head on the table, looking up to you. A quiet yeah sure could just be heard from the mumble the yawning boy let out. Your feet threaded across the icey floor boards, you being extra thankful you decided to wear the thick Christians socks your mom bought you, today. After making Taehyung his drink, you set off to the back room to turn up the thermostat, there was no way you were letting miss Kim find you as popsicle stuck to her bench tomorrow. Flicking on the light switch to the room, you immediately dropped the freshly made coffee straight to the floor in front of you, the liquid seeping through the grey carpet instantly.

“TAEHYUNG” the name left your mouth before you could even process it, you, meanwhile, stashing yourself away behind the desk chair by the door. The heavy footsteps of the person behind the name came faster than you thought when you were met with the owner of it stopping in front of the desk. Taehyung’s eyes brightened instantly seeing the cause of your distress, that same boxy grin etched across his face, “about time, they waited long enough this time!” glancing back and forth between the two things, you gawked at what just happened.

“Taehyung” you slowly got up from behind the chair, standing behind the door, “why in the hELL IS THERE A HUGE ASS HOLE IN THE MIDDLE OF MY BOSS’S OFFICE” Taehyung simply turned to look at you over his shoulder, his jackets zipper rattling, “that, my dear y/n, is my ticket home” your eyebrows knitted together though your mouth stayed hung open. “Talk soon, babe.” And with that, the boys golden eyes turned a dark hue as he waved his hand at you before diving into the bright hole on the ground. As you stood there in confusion as to what happened, the hole began shrinking, the bright light it cascades slowly fading, until there was nothing left but the coffee stain you spilt into Miss Kim’s office floor.

“What in the actual fuck just happened.”

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