#and we hit it off IMMEDIATELY and THEN we ran into another pal I hadn't seen in a while and hadn't had the chance to invite in person

[carlyraejepsans]

i don't think I've ever enjoyed a birthday party with friends as much as today i am genuinely getting a bit teary eyed

[badboysdoitbetter]

— winner | sc

pairing: takeshi wakatsuki x reader

fandom: kengan ashura

genre: angst, fluff; friends to lovers!AU, mutual pining!AU, fighter!reader, dense!reader

tags/warnings: a little violence, some L bombs, a disgustingly cute ending (this ones kinda cringey ngl), not much else :)

word count: 1.5k

synopsis: takeshi is in love with you; the only other fighter who’s been in the kengan tournament for as long as he has. it’s a shame you’re too oblivious to realize it...

        "This next fighter needs no introduction, but I'll give it anyway!" said Sayaka Katahara, a girl you'd gotten to know over your many years in the Kengan matches. "With a record of 308 wins and 5 losses, she's been the longest-standing female fighter in the Kengan Tournament!

"Her signature move is knocking out her competition before they even see her coming! Although, with that body, it could be seducing her competition into submission."

You blushed and began fixing your skin-tight outfit, pulling down your spandex and adjusting your bra. "If you haven't heard of her, which I highly doubt, here's (Y/N) (L/N), better known as the 'Angel of Death!'"

Running into the view of spectators, where cheers immediately erupted, you held out your arms out beside you, so they were parallel to the floor like you had wings.

It was like the crowd got impossibly louder, and you even saw people standing up in their seats and pumping their fists in the air. Smirking, you knew your signature move would get them riled up.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)! (Y/N!)" You stopped in the middle of the field, greeting your opponent.

This is going to be an easy match.

It was. Within the first three minutes your 6'3", 390-pound brick-of-a-man adversary was on the ground, unresponsive.

"The Angel of Death strikes again!" You stepped away from his limp body, limping to where the other fighters you'd met waited to greet you.

"That was awesome!" Cosmo Imai, a 19-year-old boy you considered your child, wrapped his muscular arms around you. You winced when he pushed you back a little, as you'd stepped back with your injured foot. "You were like whoosh, and then you were like BAM, and he went ah! and then it was over! Can you teach me how to do that?"

"Stop bothering her, idiot! (Y/N), I gotta admit, you look pretty good in that getup!" Takeshi Wakatsuki smirked at you, and you blushed hard.

Why does he tease me every chance he gets! Doesn't he know how I feel about him already? It's like he wants me to know I can't have him.

"Thanks! I work really hard, so I'm glad it's paying off!" Giving him a bright smile, you shook off your thoughts as you began limping away. You may have beaten the human-brick, but it didn't mean he was weak. "Sorry, but I have an interview to get to!"

"So, (Y/N), how does it feel to be one of the longest-standing competitors in this tournament?" Your interviewer, you'd forgotten her name as soon as she'd said it, asked inquisitively.

"Well—"

"Alright," She cut you off, ignoring the fact that she'd just asked you a question. "I think we all want to know what's going on with you and the other longest fighter." You raised a brow.

"Who?"

"You know! Your old pal Takeshi."

"Huh? Oh, Takeshi and I are just friends, Miss!" No one looked like they believed you. "I swear!" Holding your hands up in front of you, the interviewer took one look at your closed-eye smile and replied.

"Oh really? We've got some clips of you two that tell us otherwise. Roll the tape!"

As the tape began to play, you and Takeshi appeared on the screen.

When were they able to capture this?

The two of you were training before one of your biggest matches that had a high reward for your company, and you were about to shit yourself out of pure nervousness. Takeshi was across from you, calm and collected, sparring with you so could practice your hits.

You went to attack, and he could have knocked you out right then and there, but... He didn't. Instead, he took one of your "Angel Kicks" right to the face, giving you a sore foot and him a minor concussion, but it did wonders in calming you down. You hadn't known it then, but you won your match because you believed that if you could beat the "Wild Tiger," you could beat anyone.

The next clip started to play. This time, it was after another big match, and it was your 5th loss in total. Disheartened, you sobbed as you ran from the crowds, all of whom were cheering for the real winner, one of Metsudo's "Fangs."

Takeshi took you into his arms as soon as you were past the crowd. He didn't break away as you tried to shove him to get by or let you leave as your body wracked with sobs. He held you in his arms and told you to keep going, to keep fighting, and you did. That's what got you to where you were today.

He does that to all of his friends, I bet. I'm not special to him, although I wish I was...

"(Y/N)? Hello... (Y/N)?" A hand waving in front of your face pulled you out of your trance. "Don't even try to deny it anymore. There's obviously something happening there, and I want to know the deets!"

Overwhelmed, you stood up and limped out of the interview as fast as you could, trying to wobble as far as you could to get away from there.

Why can't he love me like that, the way I love him?

"(Y/N)? Oof—" Falling onto someone while you weren't looking, you were met with steely blue eyes staring back at you.

"Takeshi, what are you doing here?" He saw your black and blue leg, and he noticed that you were stuttering through your sentence, but what killed Takeshi the most was the tears staining your otherwise-perfect cheeks.

"Are you okay?" Your eyes widened.

"Um, yeah, why?"

"You don't look it..."

"Well, I'm fine. If that's all you came to ask me, I need to get to my room." You went to move around him, but he stopped you.

"Oh, how'd your interview go?"

You sobbed even harder.

He doesn't even know that I'm crying about him.

"It went fine. Excuse me." This time, he moved out of the way and let you pass him, watching as you quickly turned the corner of the hallway to get your hotel room.

The only thought Takeshi Wakatsuki had as he walked towards your room was that you were an idiot.

He watched the interview, and he'd seen the way you reacted to his caring attitude towards you. He saw the longing in your eyes when you denied being anything more than "friends."

Takeshi wasn't cocky, or overly-confident, but he was observant. He knew you liked him back and didn't understand how you didn't realize he felt the same way...He thought it was pretty obvious.

Hearing a knock, you opened the door to see the man you were crying over.

"What are you doing—" Not waiting for you to finish, he pulled you towards him and locked his lips on yours. Not waiting very long, he could feel you return the kiss with just as much passion.

As he pulled away, he told you what he came here to say.

"You're an idiot."

"What?" You looked at him dumbfounded.

"I take every possible moment we're together to can to show you how much I love you, and you can't even figure it out when another person points it out to you? (Y/N), I let you give me a concussion because I wanted to be happy, for christ's sake."

Your mouth was agape, and you couldn't bring yourself to reply. "Now, I don't even know if you like me, but it sure as hell seems as if you do, so this time, I'm going to make it as clear as possible.

"I LO—"

You put a hand over his mouth, stopping him from finishing his declaration. As you pulled away, he went, "Why'd you do that?"

You smirked, regathering your thoughts as you let out those three little words.

"I love you."

Time seemed to stop between the two of you, and you almost cackled when Takeshi realized what you did.

"Seriously? You had to say it first, didn't you? Even though you wouldn't have confessed if I hadn't figured it out before you did—"

"Takeshi," You started, "Did you seriously think I'd lose to you again?"

"You know what, (Y/N), the scores 2:1, and I'm winning."

"What do you mean?" He laughed as your face went red, "You won during our fight, and I won now! Since when was it two to one?"

"That may be true, but I won something even better." You scoffed.

"Oh yeah, and what's that?"

"You."

[slayingallthesewomenwithmypeen]

[Title in the Works] - 01

;hey guys! this is for a story I'm writing, and it's something I've had in mind for almost a year now, so I've decided to share the first chapter! i hope you enjoy. if you have any title suggestions please don't hesitate to share.

thank you all!

-Daisy💕

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

This chapter includes violent themes and driving while intoxicated.

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

April 12th, 1987

__________

If you were to ask where people usually are on a Sunday night in Boston, they'd almost all unanimously reply with watching the Bruins.

If not then they likely had something better to do.

But based on the rumbling and roaring of the crowd in the small pub downtown Boston, that didn't seem to be the case.

Cheering ran throughout the large room as a hockey game played on four different T.Vs, with men and women gathering around them to cheer for their boys in yellow and boo at Montreal aggressively.

Granted about half the crowd was completely wasted.

Waitresses walked around the establishment with tray-fulls of cheap beer to hand out to the customers as they continued to yell at the game, some getting mad as the people on the screen didn't do what they had yelled at them for the past half hour to do.

Eyeing one of the waitresses from the bar was Kate, the one with the more blonde in her hair, and her skin bearing a fairer complexion compared to her friend.

A cat-like look danced in her eyes as she scanned the crowd, then at the Bruins who weren't doing so hot.

She chuckled to herself.

Next to her, paying no mind to the waitresses (or let alone the game) like her friend was Phoebe.

She instead idly stirred her mixed drink with the tiny black straw that came with it.

Phoebe had noticeably tanner, freckled skin, sporting ginger hair and grey eyes.

Sitting next to Kate, the two did not at all seem like friends if one were to guess.

Kate twirled around on her barstool and faced her friend, smiling, "I knew the Bruins were gonna lose. Now that fat guy in the Hawaiian shirt over there owes me $50."

Phoebe didn't seem to have any reaction towards her friend's statement, continuing to stir the drink and staring blankly at it.

Her friend raised a brow, clearly understanding how out of character her ginger pal was and reached over to pluck the straw from her hand.

"I think the Alabama Slammer's mixed enough dude." Kate commented.

Phoebe looked up at her, seeming to snap out of the trance, "Sorry..." she apologized quickly, "I guess I'm just not feeling it tonight."

Kate leaned on her hand as she looked at her friend, "Feels weird being back here, huh?"

The ginger nodded, "Little bit." she said silently as she sipped her drink, "At least I haven't bumped into them yet."

"What, your parents?" Kate asked, scrunching her brows as she glanced around the bar, "Your blue-collared folks in this shithole?"

She shrugged, "You never know."

"Yeah, but from what you've told me about them they wouldn't even piss in the toilets in a place like this." Kate replied, a swig of her beer following her words, "So I wouldn't worry."

"I wouldn't really say I'm worried," Phoebe replied, "It's just weird."

The blonde sighed, "Just relax man. S'not like they're forming some kind of witch hunt for you still even after all this time."

Phoebe stayed silent for a moment, letting the cries of the hockey fans drown out her unspoken reply.

Kate rolled her eyes and nudged her shoulder, "C'mon, I'm gonna get my 50 first from the Pillsbury dough-boy over there and then we can bounce. Just go wait in the car."

Kate tossed the keys at Phoebe, who caught them with her two hands and nodded in reply.

She got up and walked out of the bar, the parking lot surprisingly enough being barren despite the large crowd of people inside.

Phoebe got to their 1978 Ford Mustang and unlocked the car.

She got into the front seat, slamming the door next to her shut, and threw the keys onto the dashboard.

Though she tried, she just couldn't shake the awkward feeling of being home back so easily as Kate had tried to.

Her parents may not enjoy places like these as she may, but that doesn't mean the people here don't talk to one another.

Especially since Phoebe's father was a pastor of one of the largest churches in the city.

The thought of that by itself made her head cloud from the embarrassment.

Nothing would make a juicy story for every ear in this drunken city like hearing the pastor's daughter running around town making a fool of herself.

'Great.' she muttered in her head, 'As if me ditching hadn't made things worse before.'

Interrupting her silent scolding was laughter, and footsteps that sounded like running towards the car.

Phoebe turned around and looked out of the back window of the car to see Kate with a handful of cash and a wild grin plastered onto her face as the man in the Hawaiian shirt chased after her along with a buddy of his.

The second man, based on what she could get a glimpse of in the dark, had such a shiny bald head she wouldn't have been surprise if he had a marble where a skull would've been.

The fat man's mouth was covered in blood, his expression was one of pure anger.

His pace- while still fast- wasn't fast enough for Kate as she made it to the car in time, and quickly got into the driver's seat.

She threw the cash onto the dash, grabbing the keys and starting the car, her laughter subsiding as she caught her breath.

Phoebe hadn't had the time to even ask what had happened yet as Kate whipped out of the parking lot with a sharp turn and hit the gas.

The mens yelling and cursing in the background faded when they started going farther down the road.

Phoebe glanced at Kate, who looked at her as if she had just experienced a glorious high.

"Dickhead over there said he knew your dad," she explained, a pit in Phoebe's stomach already forming from the guilt, "He said he'd tell him he saw our plate unless I gave him a little something. Told him no, he tried to grab me, and so I broke his tooth and took whatever was in his wallet."

Kate had described the whole ordeal in a tone where she acts as this happens to her on a daily.

Which frankly, Kate getting into fights wasn't something out of the ordinary for the two of them to go through.

Phoebe chuckled nervously, her anxiety worsening, "Shit, he saw our plates?"

"Don't worry," Kate assured nonchalantly with a giggle, "We can always switch em."

Phoebe could feel her organs sinking into a pit, "How did he even recognize me?"

"Hell if I know."

The ginger turned to Kate, looking at her overall demeanor as her friend swerved a little on the road.

"Kate..." Phoebe reached over and put her hand on the wheel to guide the car in a safer way, "Dude you're drunk off your ass. Let me drive."

Kate blew a raspberry, "I'm not drunk'" she objected, smacking Phoebe's hand away, "I can drive just fine, don't be such a worry-wart."

Phoebe was just about to object when her eyes darted over towards the road for a second and saw a person crossing the street.

"Kate- KATE-" she cried as the car drew closer to the person, "Pump the breaks someone is crossing!"

Kate squinted at the road, her head nodding a little shakily, "I don't see anyone-"

"STOP THE CAR KATE STOP THE CAR-"

Phoebe pushed herself over towards the drivers' side and slammed her foot onto the break.

The tires squealed on the road, twisting and turning as Kate drunkenly tried to hold the wheel still.

Which was about as beneficial as a duck doing taxes.

Phoebe yelped as she felt the car stop, a loud thud from the front following after.

Her eyes were shut closed, shaking as she still stood with her feet on the brake pedal.

"Holy shit." Kate murmured, her feet sliding off of the gas and staring ahead from the window.

Phoebe slowly opened her eyes, her breathing quickened as she quickly got out of the car from the shotgun's side and made her way towards the front.

Her eyes widened in horror, her hands reached up to clamp over her mouth as she rushed over to the body.

A young man laid before the car, his dark brown hair held down with a bit of blood and sweat.

He wore a grey shirt and a blue jacket, both of which were covered in some leaves and mud.

She knelt down towards him, freezing for a second as she wasn't sure on what to do, but then immediately checked his neck for a pulse.

"Is he breathing?"

Kate called as she got out of the car, looking over at Phoebe and the body.

"Oh my god."

"What?"

"He's still alive!"

"What?" Kate asked, surprised by him not kicking the bucket due to getting hit by a car, "No way...props to him."

"We gotta take him to the hospital," Phoebe said hurriedly, "He needs an ambulance- call 911!"

"Yeah, you try explaining to the doctors that you hit some homeless guy with your car."

Phoebe glared at her, "It's not my car! It's yours! You drove!"

"I could've been drunk and you would've had to drive me home. Don't lie and say you can't smell the whiskey on me."

Phoebe was absolutely appalled.

"Why can't we just tell the truth for once?!" she demanded, their current situation making her more stressed than ever, "Damn it, Kate, he could be dying!"

"Okay, one," Kate responded, definitely much calmer than Phoebe, "You think that me driving drunk is gonna make this situation better for the cops? You really want your parents to find out after all this time ignoring them, you got arrested for attempted murder?"

Phoebe didn't answer, she didn't even look at Kate, she just continued to have her hand on his pulse as reassurance that he's okay.

"...Two," she continued, "He'll be fine. Let's just go back to our motel. We'll put him on ice, I'll call a guy, we let him rest so we can avoid this whole mess."

"And what if he doesn't get better?" Phoebe shot a glare at her friend, questioning her morals.

Kate shrugged, "I got a shovel in the back."

Her eyes grew big, "Jesus Christ, Kate!"

"He'll get better!" she said a little louder, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Fuck sake, just help me get him into the backseat."