madness combat x reader

̗̀♡ white hank x shy reader

for 

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working at the last standing bar in nevada you see many characters walk in, and you always anticipated who'd swing open the rusted doors next. despite being a bartender, you weren't the best at dealing with people. ironic, isn't it?  tonight was like any other night, as you wiped down the spilled alcohol left by a previous patron who was definitely too drunk to be alone. the place was winding down, and the only few grunts left were passed-out customers drunk off their asses trying not to choke on their own vomit.

as you idly cleaned up the counter, the doors of the bar rang open, and it was — hank? but white??? your posture immediately stiffened at the sight of the tall man as he scanned the area, taking into account how empty this place was. he finally reached in front of you and sat on the barstool with a heavy thud, making you flinch a little.

"is there anything i can get for you?" you managed to squeak out, half expecting him to reach over the counter and pummel you into a stain on the floor. "whiskey, sour," he said bluntly. you went right to work mixing up the cocktail but felt an unwavering gaze on you. white hank was eying you down as if you'd disappear, which was fitting because that's what you wanted to do right now. 'is he judging me?' you thought, pouring the finished drink into the glass and adding a lemon. "enjoy" you slid the drink towards him.

he swiftly took a swing at the drink, tossing his head back and downing it as his adam's apple bobbed to a finish. he brought the glass back down completely empty, and a low groan escaped his mask. you were equally impressed as you were terrified, but you opted to pretend he wasn't there and kept scrubbing the same spot, until a large white hand covered yours and stopped you. you stared at his palm covering your entire hand, and with a shaky breath you finally found the courage to look up at him. his expression seemed fixed on you, aided by the mask covering his face. "another" he demanded, and you wasted no time getting back to work, for you feared if you even wasted a second he'd end you like he ended all those other grunts. 

again, he took a swing and finished it instantly, another deep groan coming from him. you wondered how long he'd stay here and why he kept ordering the same drink, but those questions disappeared when one of the drunk grunts who were previously unconscious, stumbled up to the counter, spouting gibberish. within his slurred speech, he was able to make some comprehensive sentences, "gimmie a, vodlka b...bitch!" the grunt slammed his fist on the table, effectively scaring you into working on it right away. 

you ducked your head down and avoided eye contact our of fear, and a strong grip on your wrist caused you to freeze. oh god, was it the grunt? is he gonna beat your ass cause you weren't fast enough? your hands were shaking, the glass almost slippinig out until you realize it was actually white hank, not that it made you feel any safer. "stop". was all white hank said, you weren't sure why but you obliged anyways, still holding the empty glass in your hand. "ffuck is wrong withyu?" the grunt started poking at white hanks chest, since he so easily towered over him. white  hank said nothing but put one hand on his shoulder, put the other hand on the top of his head, and twisted it. the grunts body collapsed on the floor instantly and  just like that, he was dead.

you shrieked and dropped the glass, covering your mouth with a shaky hand. just cause people killed all the time in nevada never meant that you'd gotten used to seeing death. white hank turned to you, climbing over the counter as you stared up at him with pleading eyes. 'please don't kill me...' you stepped back away from him. 'please don't kill me' you bumped into the shelves, closing your eyes 'please don't kill me!'

you were anticipating pain, or instant death--something, for a while, nothing happened, which made you curious and you slowly opened your eyes, still cringing in case he had a weapon to your throat or something. but he wasn't. he was staring at you. after more ogling, he finally spoke, "are you okay?" and started examining you, crouching down while holding your face and checking for bruises. "yes i-im fine" 

you slightly moved away from his touch and white hank stood up straight, thinking to himself. "you...are too weak and cute. i can protect you" was he just offering to be your bodygaurd? and did he just call you cute? you only nodded, afraid of what would happen if you said no. you still had to close up for the night, so you bent down and starting picking up the shattered glass on the floor until white hank stopepd you again. "no, you will get hurt" he said sternly, and by the tone of his voice it was not up for debate. you watched as white hank picked up the glass, dispose of the grunt corpse, and basically clean up the entire bar as you watched in awe. 'so he was serious about that protecting me thing, huh'? 

ever since then, white hank truly acted like your bodygaurd, fighting off angry drunk grunts and doing all the heavy lifting and tasking jobs, easing your anxiety a little. one thing that made you wonder though, was why he was doing all this for free...