how they are when they're jealous... ft. olruggio & qifrey
authors note: finally finished this. pls enjoyyyy this might be it for a little while unless inspiration strikes again
cw: not proofred, lightly obsessive behavior, suggestive
wc: 3.4k
click here for my masterlist
A brat? Had you heard that correctly? You looked at Olruggio, his irritating face, then around the rest of the busy tavern. He watched you. He had his mead pulled halfway away from his mouth, some of the foam on his mustache.
“Are you talking to me?” You ask and he makes a face, setting his cup down rather forcefully.
“I looked you in the eye and said it didn’t I?” He grumbles, squirting his eyes at you. You squint yours back at him even harder.
“Now, Now, dear friends,” Qifrey tries to placate but both you and Olruggio give him sharp looks and he pipes down. “I think I’ll grab myself another drink.” He says, pushing wobbly to his feet and weaving away from the table you two sat at. Both your eyes slice back to each other.
“If anyone's acting a brat it’s you.” You hiss, yanking your drink to your lips. Olruggio raises his brows.
“I’m not the one accepting drinks from strangers.” He points out.
“And how does that make me a brat?” You argue.
“Because I already bought you a drink!” He argues back. You shrug your shoulders.
“So? I finished the one you bought me.” You drink out of the stranger bought mead and Olruggio fumes.
“So? That means you ask for another.”
“From you?”
“Yes from me!” He growls. You huff.
“Why would it matter?” You lean closer.
“Because I asked you to come here with me! As a date, brat!” He leans closer.
“I am not a brat you brute!” You slam your empty mug on the table and both of you had been so close now, you could smell something warm and fresh, like hot coffee or dark chocolate. He suddenly pushed his hands on the table and got to his feet. He didn’t say a word, just strode off back towards the counter. You watched him lean over and say something. The innkeeper turned and poured two more meads before sliding it over to him. You turned and pretended you weren’t watching.
“Brute?” He repeats and sits back where he was, not missing a beat. You nod your head as he slides you a new drink. “Do you even know what a date is? Because it was supposed to be the two of us and you invited Qifrey!” Did you know what a date was? No. Not entirely. You had a clue though and for some reason spending time alone with Olruggio made your heart speed so you asked Qifrey to tag along. The poor sap wasn’t doing much anyway.
“I know what a date is.” You groan, blushing a little behind your mug. He watches you.
“I don’t think you do.”
“I’m a grown woman. I know what a date is.” You hiss back and watch a shit eating grin form on his lips. “What is that look for?”
“A date is supposed to be romantic. There’s nothing romantic about a babysitter.” He motions to Qifrey. Romantic? Romance… You blushed even more. You didn’t know shit about those things. You could argue up a storm with Olruggio but the quieter moments were beyond you. Yet he asked you and you agreed. You sprung Qifrey on him the moment you got here.
“He’s your friend. Don’t you like drinking with friends?”
“Any other night, sure. But not the one night I wanted to drink with just you.” He points out. You were able to keep glaring back at him for a while until now. You looked away, clearing your throat. Losing a slight bit of your composure. You forced yourself to argue back, even if your voice wavered a little bit.
“Well I was unaware of that.”
“Yes, because you’re the most unromantic person I’ve ever met.” He grumbles, leaning away from you back against the seat. You glared, nothing got rid of butterflies faster than annoyance.
“I’m romantic!” You insisted and realized the moment it came out of your mouth how silly it was. Olruggio laughed wholeheartedly, so hard he almost busted a rib. “Bastard! Quit laughing.” His laughter doesn’t cease, he’s wiping his eyes and shaking his head.
“You? Romantic? I never took you for a teller of tall tales.”
“Hush up.” You grumble and he smiles fondly as you look away. “I can be plenty romantic.” You double down. Olruggio’s smile grows cat-like, like a predator stalking prey.
“Can you?”
“I can!” You grunt, taking another drink, god you were so flustered, since when had this conversation taken such a turn into territory you were entirely unfamiliar with.
“Please demonstrate.” He says with a sort of ‘be my guest’ gesture. You glare again, reaching and downing the rest of your drink.
“Demonstrate what?”
“How romantic you are. Go on. Make me blush.” He smirks, leaning back. Huh? No no why had you even opened your trap! You silently prayed Qifrey would come back to the table but no such luck. You scoff, shaking your head.
“No.”
“No?” He echoes, that damn smirk still on his lips.
“No.” You double down, crossing your arms.
“You really are a brat.” He laughs and you can’t take it anymore.
“Alright, that’s it. Outside.” You say, shoving to your feet, the table rattling. Olruggio’s brows shoot up in amusement.
“Outside?” He echoes. “Are we going to spar?” He asks after you but you're already sweeping your way through the crowd of patrons to the front entrance. You shove the door open and walk onto the cobblestone path, there’s a soft rain pittering around you and the dying light of a street lantern. Olruggio pushes out of the door a moment after you, your cloak thrown over his arm. There’s a tight alleyway beside the tavern that you turn and walk to. “I confess I’ve never sparred with a date before.” He jokes and you grasp the front of his shirt and drag him into the alleyway. His warm hand eclipses your wrist and the contact startles you so you jolt your hand away. Standing in this tight alleyway you had no idea why you felt the need to ask him out here. You didn’t want to fight, even though he often got your heart ticking. You can hear his breathing, he shifts a little and shakes out your cloak before throwing it over your shoulders and tugging you a step forwards, bodies mere inches from being pressed together. “What’s the plan?” He whispers between the two of you. You swallow dryly, looking up at him. You’d never even stood this close to Olruggio before.
“I’m… I am…” You stumbled over your words and groaned exasperatedly at his growing smirk.
“Was there a plan at all?” He asks and then you suddenly remember his words from inside. ‘Make me blush’. Right… you step closer and Olruggio’s eyes widen a little.Proximity was romantic, right? His hands were still holding your cloak so you reach out and gently hold his wrists and swallow down your nerves.
“I wanted privacy.” You say and his face drops, that dumb smirk faltering. Perfect. A point to you.
“Privacy?” He asks and you nod your head, your finger’s sliding beneath the cuffs of his shirt to feel the warmth of his skin. His breath audibly catches and his brain momentarily short circuits. His lips part to speak but nothing comes out. Another point to you.
“Is this what you wanted all along?” You ask feeling foolish but his brows raise and the look on his face prompts you to continue. “When you asked me out? Is this what you envisioned?” Olruggio’s grip on your cloak suddenly tightens, you can feel it by the way his wrists flex slightly with the force. Another point. You just needed that blush, so you let one of your hands wander up his arm, you gently squeeze his bicep before sliding against his face. His cheek is rough with stubble. You watch his eyes close momentarily and when they open back you don’t even notice his blush because the way he’s looking at you fills you with electricity. His right hand lets go of your cloak as he places it on the brick right beside your head, practically trapping you.
“You're in dangerous territory, love.” He says roughly and you believe that but you can’t pull away, nor speak a coherent sentence as his other hand slides beneath your cloak and against your hip. Now you’ve passed the point of no return. You didn’t notice the rain had started falling a little harder and he mutters annoyed, letting you go to cast a spell to keep the rain off you. The patrons started filtering out of the tavern back to their homes as your attention was drawn to them momentarily. The moment of reprieve lets you get your word back. You wear a smirk.
“I made you blush.” You force out, trying to regain that composure you had lost several minutes ago.
“Hm.” He hums in agreement, his eyes flick down to your lips and your stomach flips at the sight. “Seems you did, although I wouldn’t say your methods were very romantic.” He quips softly, leaning close. You make a face at him, glaring again.
“Just admit you were wrong.” You say and he nods his head, his eyes fully on your lips now.
“Mhm I was wrong. So so wrong.” He murmurs and you can feel the soft whisper of his breath against your lips. You bite your lip hard enough to bleed and dig your nails into your leg to try and snap out of this moment. But it was no use because his hands were back on you again, warm and large against your hips. “I’d give it a try too but you’ve been blushing almost the whole night.”
“Have not.” You argue and he smiles fondly at you.
“Must be my imagination then.”
“Clearly.” You say but he’s leaning for your lips and you're not stopping him. In fact you meet him halfway. His kiss is gentle at first, careful and exploring. His scruff brushes against your mouth as his lips move in rhythm with yours.
You two were as good at kissing as you were arguing.
Falling into a rhythm of push and pull. His hands leave your hips to gently grasp either side of your face as he backs you up against the brick of the alley wall, his hand sliding behind your head so you don’t bump your head against the wall. He presses you into that wall again and again, hips moving against hips. The friction is so good, annoyingly good so you deepen the kiss, your hands sliding around his hips, cold fingers dipping under the hem of his shirt. He makes a noise against your mouth and you swallow it up. You didn’t have to ask if this is what he envisioned because the way he’s kissing you right now, almost calculatingly told you all you needed to know. He’d been looking forward to this. Massively.
-
It was raining out. You never minded the rain but Qifrey did. You figured since you lost him in the market you’d go on ahead and he could meet you back at the atelier. You weave your way through the crowd as a man sweeps into your path.
“Morning, miss.” He greets you with a toothy grin. He sweeps a flower from behind his back and offers it to you. “I’ve seen you here many times but I just wanted to say… you are the most beautiful creature I've ever seen.” Rain patters softly against your skin as you reluctantly take the flower.
“Very kind.” You say shortly, maneuvering past him but he reaches out and grasps your wrist, tugging you back a step.
“Miss-” The rain stops and you notice a moment too late that a shadow has fallen over the man's face. He wrenches his hand away from your skin as if burned him. “Apologies.” He says but not to you. You turn slightly and there stands Qifrey, imposing and sharp eyed, the spell he usually casted to keep the rain off of him now extended to you with how close he stood.
“Don’t apologize to me.” Qifrey says with a sort of controlled anger. Though you're sure it wouldn’t be so controlled if you weren’t around. He tended to keep that side of himself away from you. This all was sort of a bother. You didn’t really care for an apology, you would’ve rather just sent him flying with a spell. The man’s eyes snap to yours and you can see the fear there.
“My sincerest apologies, miss.” He says and you shove the flower against the man’s chest.
“I accept.” You say sharply. The man hurries away with that and you watch as Qifrey watches the man go. Then his full attention rests on you. He gently grabs your wrist.
“He didn’t hurt you, right my love?” His thumb gently caresses the inside of your wrist. You pull your hand away. You two were in some sort of… you didn’t quite know the word for it. You two had a deep connection that was dancing around the word romantic. But despite that you still pulled away at most given moments, almost like it was programmed into you. Qifrey didn’t mind at all though because the moments you didn’t pull away sustained him for months.
“He grabbed my wrist. That’s all.” You answer, looking around the spell. It was barely raining out, he really shouldn’t go through the trouble of casting something like this.
“Yes… but I have observed him watching you for a few days.” Qifrey says as you shrug your shoulders a little.
“Let him.” You answer, starting to walk the path back to his atelier.
“I’d rather not.” He says, picking up pace to fall in step with you. “Desperate men are dangerous.” He says and you know he doesn’t mean himself but it makes you snort a little. You wouldn’t necessarily call Qifrey desperate when it came to you, though you have heard him beg and plead many times. He narrows his eyes at your snort. “Something funny?” He asks, trying to keep his voice light. You shrug your shoulders again. “You actually have quite a few men watching you, you know that?” He asks and you almost sigh. This again. “The man at the market and the man at the fabric store and the-”
“Man at the tavern? I actually don’t mind that one. He was entertaining.” You say and could tell by the silence that spread between you two on this walk home that you might have just stepped over the line. The only thing that could be heard outside of Qifrey’s spell was the soft pattering of a slowly passing rain.
“Is that so?” He inclines and you can hear the tightness in his voice as you step over a puddle.
“He had good stories.” You say, pulling your cloak down, it wasn’t needed beneath the shelter of his spell.
“I have better stories.”
“That’s nice.” You say, hiding a laugh. Qifrey makes a huffing sort of sound.
“Tell me one of his stories.”
“I can’t recall them right now.”
“Ah, so they're good but not memorable?” He asks and you blow out a laugh.
Everything was a competition to this man when it came to you. Someone else made you laugh? He is going to make you laugh harder. You smiled at someone? He needs a bigger smile. This man didn’t like second place. He jogs ahead a little once you're closer to home and pulls the door open for you. You're surprised he hadn’t picked a flower along the way-
“Here my love.” And just then a bouquet is procured right in front of your eyes. All your favorite flowers of course. You hand brushes his as you grab the bundle of flowers.
“Qifrey,” You start, wanting to maybe fumble your way through a little apology.
“Nobody else deserves you. Please… understand that… When you act that way it… drives me wild, my love. Will you please have some mercy on me?” He asks, sweeping you deeper into the house. You place the flowers on the table and his hands slide against your hips.
“The girls-”
“Are out for the day with Olruggio.” He answers swiftly, pulling off his cloak, his hands sliding beneath your cloak to drop it off your shoulders.
“You’re dramatic. I wasn’t acting any sort of way.” You say and Qifrey pouts slightly.
“You like to tease.” He says, gently tugging you into the kitchen where he backs you onto the counter and stands between your parted legs.
“Sure but not everything I do should cause such… jealousy.”
“I’m sorry, my love. I meant no harm. I trust you. I just don’t like all those eyes on you. Nor do I like some hollow words being spoken to you.”
“Ah… didn’t like the beautiful creature line?” You tease and he instantly shakes his head.
“No. You are no creature. You are a goddess.” You almost roll your eyes. This man was shameless in his attraction to you. He notices your abashed reaction and takes your hand in his, pulling it to his lips, starting to kiss your knuckles, each one, then turns your hand over to kiss your palm. You watch this and chew your lip a bit to keep from making any embarrassing sounds or movements. He trails kisses to your wrist. “You are divine. Too exquisite to be looked at or touched so casually, my love.” He pulls your hands to his face, pressing your palm against his cheek. “Please do remember this… because the next time I won’t be so accommodating to some leech looking at you.” He says, a slightly unbalanced look in his eyes. He continues his kisses up your bare arm, pushing your collar aside as his lips press against your neck. “Please, my love.” He whispers against your neck making you shiver, his teeth grazing your neck like he wants to mark you as his but can’t quite manage to blemish your skin.
“I'll remember.” You say, throat tight as his warm hands pull you flush against him.
“Promise?” He asks, pulling away from your neck to meet your eyes. You nod your head and his face breaks into a bright smile, he sweeps you from the counter and walks you towards his room, placing sloppy kisses against your neck the whole way there. “I don’t want to share you with a single thing. Not the outside world, not some man at the market or even the damned rain.” He turns you around and kisses you deeply. “Will you only think of me tonight?”
“Just tonight?” You ask against his lips.
“I don’t want to be too selfish.” He says but you can hear it in his voice. The possessive jealousy you brought out of him tonight.
“I’ll allow it… tonight.” You say, one step forwards. He melts against you, kissing you deeper, little sounds escaping his lips with each frenzied press.
“Do you mean it?” He asks, kicking his door closer, pulling at whatever clothes he could of yours.
“I do.” You say and he’s getting you in his bed with the swiftness of a fox.
synopsis: with hazy memories you wake up in a familiar witch's atelier...
an: happy fourth of july! first post in almost a year. i haven't really been inspired to write until I watched this anime and cooked up this story. I had so much fun writing again and I hope you all enjoy!
wc: 12k
cw: brimmed cap reader x qifrey, enemies to lovers, mentions of blood and gore, convient plot devices, possible ooc qifrey (i'm anime only so my understandings of him and the brimmed caps is limited lol), dubious behavior, not proofread forgive me, fem reader
click here for my masterlist
You woke up when the rain stopped. Head aching just as much as your bones. You groaned and rolled over on the soft bed beneath you, it creaked softly with the sudden movement. You grimaced, a sharp pain in your side drawing your attention. The room you were in was dark, a circular window to your left let in soft moonlight filtering through rain droplets casting shadows across dark hardwood flooring. You blinked a few times, feeling the sharp pain in your side, expecting the wetness of blood or bruising but whatever the pain was it slowly ebbed away to nothing but a dull ache. You sat up, throwing your legs over the side of the bed, cold feet meeting even colder flooring. It woke you up a little as you adjusted to the darkness of the room. The room was warm in its decorations, oakwood shelves full of casting spell books and the art of spell books and art of cooking books. Your brow furrowed. There was a viney plant stretching impossibly across the ceiling and pots of ink and paper on the desk a few feet from your bed. You pushed to your feet, the soft blanket around your body falling back on the bed. The flooring creaked softly beneath your feet as you moved across the room. Propped beside the desk was your broken sword and tattered clothes. You suddenly looked down at the clothes you were wearing now, a simple tunic and baggy pants. Someone changed your clothes. You reached for your sword, the damn thing was broken, just a few inches of sword before it chipped off to nothing.
What the hell happened? Where the hell were you?
You placed the sword back down and ran a hand through your hair, pulling it back out of your face. Your memory was… spotty to say the least. You remembered igniting your blade in the forest, you think maybe you were fighting someone but nothing comes to you. You sigh a little and turn towards the doorway and startle. There's four young girls crowded in the entrance, not walking past the threshold. They’re eyes wide and observing you as though you were some strange animal on display. You sucked in a breath.
“What… uh…” You stuttered and at the sound of your voice the pink haired girl gasped, grasping onto the blondish green haired girl. Her eyes widened in fear when your eyes met hers. Your memory jumpstarts messily in quick flashes.
You were tracking her, sword in hand.
“She looks… human.” The blue haired girl whispers tonelessly and the black haired girl’s eyes sharpen.
“She is. Mostly.”
“Who are you?” You asked, stepping back, head throbbing. The girls all startled and stepped back away from the door.
“Don’t try for sympathy.” The black haired girl called to you. “We are not foolish enough to think you don’t remember us.” She tried to sound brave but you heard the tremor in her voice. You stepped closer and they all fumbled over each other to step away, terrified of you.
“I’m not acting. My memory is… hazy.” You say, two of the girls soften. One of them stepped closer to the door as the black haired girl grabbed at her.
“Coco, careful, don’t pass the threshold, Master said-”
“I know.” Coco responds softly and turns to look at you. She clears her throat and sucks in a slightly shaky breath. “Do you remember me?” You look at her for a long moment. You do but you can’t place why. Your head hurts and you make a face, unsteadily grabbing for the desk chair behind you, you sit.
“I think so.”
“If you did, I think we’d be having a different conversation.” She says softly, you rub your hands over your face and look at her through your fingers. Another flash of memory, rain beating against you as you grabbed her arm in the dark, yanking her back, pressing your sword to her throat.
“I hurt you.” You say after a quiet moment. Coco shakes her head fast, denying.
“No… no… I mean… a little but I’m okay. Actually… you saved me. I think that's why the master brought you back here.” She says, much to the dark haired girl's detriment.
“That’s enough.” She seethed, grabbing Coco’s wrist and pulling her away from the threshold. Coco ignored her.
“Are you hungry, miss? You’ve been asleep for days.” Your stomach suddenly twisted at the mention but you were hung up on her words. You’d been asleep for days?
“She doesn’t deserve to eat.” The black haired girl hisses, yanking Coco another step back. Coco whirls on her.
“Agott! Don’t talk like that.” She pleads kindly. “She's probably starving.”
“Good.” Agott growls. “You think for a second she had good intentions saving you? She probably just wanted to turn you into the Brimmed Cap’s herself.”
The Brimmed Cap’s.
Your head slams with memories. You were sent to track down Coco, given a half assed description of her. You were desperate to prove yourself, to gain power for selfish reasons. You’d played by the rules your entire life and that got you nowhere. You were desperate which so happened to be a perfect personality trait for the Brimmed Cap’s to swoop in and entice you into joining their side. You were no good. No good when you entered that rainy forest with murder on your mind. But one of the others found Coco and when you saw her… she was just a child. You hadn’t known she was going to be a child.
“Miss… are you hungry?” Coco breaks through your thoughts. Now you remembered all but how you got here.
“Where am I?” You ask a tad forcefully. Agott stepped in front of Coco, such sharp angry eyes for a young girl.
“That’s none of your business. Coco asked if you were hungry.” She says through gritted teeth. You cocked your head.
“It’s none of my business where I am?” You ask and revel in the anger it brings the young girl. Yeah… you remembered who you were now and exactly why these girls were so fearful. Agott doesn’t step closer, her hands shaking at her sides. You rise from your chair. “Where’s your master?” You ask in an eerily calm voice. The girls were silent. “He’s not home?” You ask and they flinch. That was answer enough for you. But it couldn’t be so easy that you could walk out of this room, they were fretting about the threshold for a reason. There must be some kind of spell cast over this room that made it more of a prison than anything else.
“What’re you doing?” the pink haired girl asked, voice wavering.
“You know… I am quite peckish.” You say, eyes looking around the room. The bottles of ink on the desk catches your eye.
“You are?” Coco asks carefully. You nod your head.
“Yes.” You say and try to soften your voice but it comes out wrong. No matter what you do you’re scaring these girls. The pink haired girl grabs Coco, they’re all practically holding onto one another as though that would ward off your evil.
“We’ll go make you something then.” Coco says kindly as she starts to walk away and the girls scurry after her. You wait until you can’t hear their footsteps anymore before sweeping off towards the desk. You grab up the first bottle of ink and sigh. Completely dried out. You grab the next and sigh even louder. Also dried. You place the bottle back down. Your pen was conveniently missing and you attributed that to the master of this place. You walked towards the window, it was still dark out but you had no idea what time it could be. Asleep for three days.. The moments leading up to being brought here were foggy still. You remembered seeing someone capture Coco, she was screaming and crying and scared and just a child. You had raised your sword to the other Brimmed Cap before even realizing what you were doing.
“Traitor!” He had yelled as you ran him through. Then your memory stalled.
What happened after that? You groaned and sat back on the bed, running a stressed hand through your hair. How did your sword break? And how come your clothes were so tattered? And how did you end up a prisoner in the same place as Coco with no master in sight.
“Miss?” Coco’s soft voice called from the doorway, it startled you. You hadn’t even heard her steps. You sat up. “Would you like hot tea?” You look at the young girl, she must’ve slipped away from the others for them to let her come up here alone.
“How did I get here?” You ask, hoping with her being alone she’d be less wary.
“Master brought you here… he said you’d die if we left you out there in the forest.” She explained, fiddling with her fingers. Slowly you nodded your head.
“Because… I got hurt?” You guessed and she nodded her head.
“Yes you… you got hurt.” She said smally, as if it was her fault. “You were trying to save me.” You looked at the young girl, something like guilt was eating her up. You weren’t bigheaded enough to think it was all directed at you but at least some of it was.
“You don’t have to seem so sorry. I’m the villain here.” You said and her eyes snapped up to yours, she started to shake her head no but looked down at her hands instead.
“I think… you’re a good person… deep down. It showed in the forest. Even my master must think so since he brought you here.”
“He trapped me here.” You point out and she sucks in a breath. “Though it’s definitely better than I deserve.” You laugh softly, shaking your head. She looks up quickly at the sound of your laugh, almost like she was surprised you could make that sound. You sigh into your hand. “Who’s your master?”
“Master Qifrey.” The amusement on your face died in an instant.
You joined the Brimmed Caps when you were only a child. It was the same sob story as most others that joined probably. Your parents wanted perfection but you never had a steady hand. You failed the second test and that was the first time your father hit you. You had run away later that night to go to your grandma’s house near the edge of the village when a man approached you. He looked scary and called himself Iguin. He took one look at you then casted a spell, healing the bruise on your cheek.
“Are you alright, young lady?” He asked, his voice scared you. Practically everything about him scared you. You couldn't see his face, just this eerie mask with a giant swirling eye staring at you. You felt dissected.
“I’m… alright.” You answered smally, pressing a hand to your cheek, it didn’t hurt any longer. He laughed and you wondered, scared if you had said something funny.
“If you were alright you wouldn’t be out running scared this late at night.” He did a little movement with his hands and suddenly a sweet bun appeared in his palm. He offered it to you. “For you.” He offers and slowly you reach out and take it, taking a scared step back. “That’s your favorite, right?” You nod your head and shakily take a bite. It’s perfect, light and airy with peach puree in the middle, just like your grandma made them. You smile.
“Thank you, mister.”
“Tell me… young witch, what would you do with unlimited power?”
“Unlimited?” You echoed and the masked figure nodded his head, procuring a book from his cloak.
“Magic without restraints. Without pressure. Without fear.” He offered the book to you. You looked at the leatherbound thing in his hand and foolishly reached out and grabbed it. You never saw your family again after that day, nor did you ever make it to your grandma’s house. Over the years leading up to today you had faced a lot of the Pointed Cap witches and the only one that ever stood out was Qifrey. He seemed desperate for information the times you faced and lost to him. The last time you faced him was… muddy to say the least. But he wasn’t someone you felt comfortable trapped within their grasp.
“Miss?” Coco’s voice snapped you back into this moment. You blinked a few times.
“Qifrey, white haired witch?” You ask and the girl lights up a little bit.
“Yes miss.” She answers with a little smile. But you had nothing to smile about. Iguin had warned you about this man and here you were, a prisoner in his home.
“Do you have something stronger than hot tea, young Coco?” You asked and she furrowed her brows, not understanding, you sighed. “Hot tea will do.”
“Yes, Coco, go fetch our guest some hot tea.” Both you and Coco startled when Qifrey appeared just behind her, all soft smiles. You looked away in an instant as Coco greeted him and padded down the stairs leaving you two alone. “I trust you aren’t trying to corrupt my apprentices.” He says and when you look back over at him that jovial smile from a moment ago has disappeared completely. It was a chilling sight. You cleared your throat. You were supposed to be the scary one here. You were the Brimmed Cap witch, you needed to act like it.
“The night’s still young.” You answered with as much composer as you could muster. Qifrey cocked his head a little, one eye surveying you, you wondered why the other was covered up, wondered if there was even one there to begin with.
“How is your head?” He asks. Surely he was speaking of your memories and not the constant pounding. He stepped past the threshold and it took everything in you not to move away from him. He showed you no fear. He treated and talked to you like an old friend. It was unnerving.
“I’m remembering, slowly.” You offer cautiously.
“I meant pain. One of your fellow Brimmed Cap’s hit you rather hard. That could be why your memory is spotty.” He says and your brows furrow. So someone knocked you over the head, huh? You felt around your head until you pressed the base of your skull and gasped in pain, white hot pulses shooting through you. He wasn’t lying, someone did clobber you good. “Take it easy,” His voice was soft, you heard one of the girls call for him at the door and the rattle of a tray being passed from one hand to another. You blinked, eyesight blurry as Qifrey pulled the bedside table close to you and placed the food on it. “Eat. Slowly as to not make yourself sick.” He directs. Your head is still pounding but it is better than it was a few seconds ago.
The wooden tray in front of you consists of some type of creamy stew, fluffy bread and a cup of steaming tea. Shakily you grab for the spoon and slowly stir it around the stew for a moment before spooning out some and bringing it to your lips. You paused. Delicious. Utterly delectable. “Is it alright?” He asked, sitting in the desk chair across from you. You cleared your throat awkwardly, not speaking but just nodding your head. The headache caused by hunger slowly subsided as you finished the stew and dipped your bread in the remainder of your broth.
“Do you recall your name?”
You spoke your name to him in between bites.
“And how you got here?” He asks. To that you shake your head.
“I remember…” You trail off. You were in the hands of the enemy, the more you spoke the more of a traitor you were becoming. You swallowed dryly and reached for your tea, now lukewarm. “How did I get here, witch?” At the sudden shift in your body language Qifrey responds in kind.
“Ah.” As if he knows you're slowly shutting him out. “Well… one of your… team members, though I don’t suppose you can call him that now, saw you save my apprentice. Saw you kill to save my apprentice.” He emphasises. You flinch at the accusation in his tone.
“I did no such thing.”
“I know Brimmed Cap’s lie but this is beneath you and frankly a waste of breath. I saw you save her.” He says and your eyes snap to him. He saw everything. Of course he did. And of course if he didn’t his little apprentice would tell him everything.
“I wanted the bounty for myself.” You lie. He sits back, closes his eyes and crosses his arms, as if tired of this conversation.
“Then why didn’t you take her to your master then and there? Why did you whirl around and ask about her wellbeing? These are very contradictory actions as you can see.” He explains calmly. You glared, clenching your jaw but his eyes were still closed. Whatever ward he placed on this room kept you from using your magic, even the spells carved on your skin were useless. “You know… maybe you remember me before or maybe you don’t but I remember you. We’ve fought… three times, correct?” At this he opened his eyes to meet yours and smiled a little, as if recalling fond moments. You stared at him, not giving an inch to how rattled you were. “I beat you once, twice and… that last time… I beat you but only because… you hesitated.”
You swung out your sword of fire, it sparked as it hit the brunt side of Qifrey’s blade, rain pouring like mad. You kicked out your booted foot, hitting Qifrey’s leg from beneath him as he thudded harshly to one knee and you swung your sword hard enough to cleaver him in half, his sword raised to meet yours, the force of your swing sending him sprawling back to the wet dirt. This is what Iguin talked about as you stalked the prey beneath you, that overwhelming taste of power, of beating a foe stronger than you. You stomped on his hand that held the blade hard enough that he gasped and dropped it, his wrist pinned beneath your muddy boot. You pressed your blade to his throat like you had with so many other foes. But instead of finishing the job, you hesitated. Qifrey broke loose and won back the upper hand just in time for the other Brimmed Caps to come to your aid. Outmanned Qifrey retreated but you had lost once again.
“That’s a very… hopefully deluded outlook.” You said slowly, the memory dancing around your head like a jester taunting royalty.
“How would you describe it then?” He asks.
“Lack of bloodlust.” You say and a small smile grows on Qifrey’s lips, it was a scary sight. You tensed when he stood up.
“Still hungry?” He asked, gathering up the things on your tray.
“If you think kindness will get me to sell out my people then you are wrong.” You say sharply, hoping to break through that carefully crafted wall Qifrey hides behind. You sense he isn’t as happy go lucky as he likes to present. But he doesn’t take your bait. It was cheap bait anyways.
“You’re people left you bleeding out in the mud.” Qifrey says without missing a beat. Your eyes snap up to him as he turns to walk out of the room. “I’ll make you another serving.” And with that he sweeps out of the room. Unfortunately you weren’t as closed off to bait as he was. You blew out a breath and walked towards the threshold. He walked over it with ease so you reached out your hand to test it, you felt the power emanating from the invisible air, crackling like lightning waiting to strike. You pulled your hand away and stepped back. Just one touch would probably send you flying across the room and you were already not in the best of shape. You walked to the circular window and reached out, feeling that same crackling of power, there wasn’t one inch of wall that he missed. You sighed and sat back on the bed just as you heard stairs creaking and Qifrey walked back into the room.
“What kind of spell is in this room?” You asked as he gently sat another tray in front of you with fresh steaming soup and hot tea, this time with two slices of bread. Your stomach lurched at the sight and you were reaching for the spoon in seconds.
“A simple protection spell.” He says. You doubt it’s that simple.
“Protecting me from what?” You asked, mouth full.
“Protecting them from you.” He corrects and your eyes find him again. You were the villain, something you didn’t feel like getting fed in a prison on your own making. You felt more like a fool in a bear trap.
“I’m not the trump card you think I am.” You say, getting back to your food. “I know you're desperate for information about the Brimmed Cap’s, my master told me so.”
“You’re master?” He asks and he’s unable to keep the interest out of his voice. You’ve ensnared him.
“Yes. He taught me all that I know.” You look down at the bowl, you can’t remember having food this good in so long. “He carved my first spell into my arm.” Qifrey flinches, that placid look on his face faltering. You look back up at him, elated at having rattled him. You reach for your sleeve, start to pull it up when Qifrey moves across the room in the blink of an eye, hand grasping your wrist to stop you. The sudden movement upsets the table in front of you as your stew tips over into your lap, hot and stinging. You gasp as Qifrey stares at you, almost fearful for a moment. “You could’ve just closed your eyes, witch!” You growled, yanking your hand out of his grip.
“Apologies.” He breathes out unsteadily. “Are you hurt?”
“It’s fine, just stings.” You say and suddenly Qifrey sweeps out of the room as fast as he had moved to stop you from showing your arm. You stare after him, confused, then look down at your lap. It was silly to be upset over spilled stew but you wished that witch would stub his toe wherever he was going. You pushed to your feet and pulled off your trousers, using them to clean up the small bit that made it to the ground. Your thighs were fine, the trousers were pretty thick so it saved you from any last burns. When you pushed back to your feet Qifrey walked back into the room and paused at the sight of you. In one hand he held another bowl of stew, the other a spare pair of trousers. His eyes slammed shut, a furious flush spreading across his face.
“Here.” He shoves the pants your way. Your hand brushes against his as you take them and he shivers, stepping back. You watch his expressions as you pull them on. He was clearly embarrassed. It was… amusing to see him this way. Then your gut slams. He’s your enemy. You grab the bowl of stew out of his other hand and his eyes peek open. Once he deems it safe he blows out a breath and both of you sit back down. “Are you sure you’re alright?” He asks and you glare at him and get back to eating your stew.
“What led to me being imprisoned here?” You ask and Qifrey takes a breath, whatever strange state you saw him in a moment ago was smoothed over.
“You’re not our prisoner.”
“Oh I’m not?” You ask, almost laughing as you dip bread in the broth and take a bite. “So I can walk right out of that barrier?”
“Yes.” He says and you actually do laugh.
“Yes… it will send me to my early grave as well?” You finish and Qifrey nods his head.
“I only had it up while I wasn’t home to protect the girls. I am home now.” He says simply, not threatened by you, he was right not to be. Not only were you weak, your special sword was broken on the table. You shove to your feet, the bowl rattling but not spilling.
“Shall I test it?” You ask and he makes a gesture like be my guest. You walk over to it and pause. This was clearly a trick but if he wanted answers out of you then he’d have to bring you back from the dead. You walk forwards and flinch as you pass right through the threshold and… nothing happens. You turn back and Qifrey is smiling a little.
“Do you believe me now?” He asks, crossing his legs and leaning back nonchalantly.
“Foolish witch.” You say before darting down the stairs. You were in some… cozy house. You spot the front door and rush to it, throwing it open and running outside into the pouring rain. You made it down the path when finally the moments that led you being taken here slam into your mind. The final piece of the puzzle.
Qifrey sits calmly in the room and waits. He hears the front door open back up and squelching as you make your way back up the stairs, drenched from the rain. Qifrey stands, pulling out his paper pad, casting a spell that dries you right up. You don’t meet his eye as you shiver and make your way back to the table of food. Qifrey walks over, grabs a blanket and tosses it over your shoulders. You don’t bid him thanks because you have made a proper fool out of yourself. It wasn’t some random Brimmed Cap that busted you over the head. It was your own master. He’d seen you save Coco, he’d seen you betray him and he was the second one that day that called you a traitor. Qifrey didn’t have a protection spell over this room when he got home because he knew once that memory of yours jogged you’d remember that you have nowhere else to go. Iguin would be looking for you. He’d want to finish the job. All the Brimmed Cap would be on the same page. You were just as much a wanted person as Coco was, though for very different reasons. Very different deadly reasons.
“I’m useless to you, Witch.” You say, absentmindedly stirring your soup. Qifrey furrows his brows.
“How so?”
“One of the things you give up for unlimited power just so happens to be autonomy.” You explain. “I can’t speak his name. I can’t write his name. I can’t lead you to him. I can’t talk about our cause or where our base is because the moment he saw me as a traitor those facts must’ve been simply… plucked out of my head.” You say with a heavy sigh. “I’m no more use to you than my broken blade over on the desk.” Qifrey’s eyes move to the discarded blade, the very same one you had pressed to his throat months ago.
“Blade’s can be fixed, reforged. Everything has uses, even broken things.” Qifrey says, reaching out and grabbing the hilt. It was weird seeing him hold it, he turned it around in his hands, traced the blade until it broke off at the end. “You told me a little. You may not be able to speak his name but you recalled that he was your master. That he carved into your arm, that he taught you all as you said.” You nod your head. “He wiped enough but not everything.” You laughed a little and he furrowed a brow at that sound.
“It’s not really a wiping of memory. It’s a spell… or rather a curse. One that I agreed to when I was too young to know its purpose.” You explain as Qifrey sets your blade down.
“What do you mean?” He asks as you get back to eating, not wanting the stew to go cold.
“You never raise a hand to your master, never speak his name to hurt or uncover him lest you face death.”
“You’re saying this curse… if you speak his name you will die?” He pieces out. You nod your head and stuff a piece of bread into your mouth. Three days without food felt more like a week. Qifrey looks frustrated, he was finally seeing just how useless it was to risk his neck bringing you here. He took the biggest gamble. Bringing you to his atelier of all places. You could’ve been pretending to be on his side to reveal Coco’s location, playing double agent. You weren’t of course but still… risky move on his part.
“Sorry witch, it must sting to go through all this trouble for nothing.”
“It wasn’t for nothing,” Qifrey responds absentmindedly, his mind was on something else entirely.
“It was.” You insist but he shakes his head, running a stressed hand through his hair.
“You’re alive, that was the purpose.” He says and pushes to his feet. You make a face, shaking your head.
“Are you listening?” You ask. “I offer nothing. I can’t help you.”
“Fine.” He says. “That is fine. Although I wouldn’t say you offer nothing. You are an incredibly skilled witch, not only with spells but fighting style.”
“I can’t help you fight them.”
“But you can help me train my apprentices.” You freeze at his words.
“Are you mad?” You ask incredulously, voice a little high pitched. He looks at you as though what he said was normal.
“I’m not mad.” He answers nonchalantly.
“I think you might be. Maybe you're the one who was dealt a hefty blow on the head.” You say and when he says your name your heart stutters.
“Coco likes you. She tended over you as you slept. Agott is enamored with your blade. Richeh… well it’s hard to know what she finds enthralling about you but she was in here just as much as Coco and Tetia. They might be scared of you presently but I think you have a chance to do some good. Witches shouldn’t solely rely on magic, sometimes learning basic combat skills and bladework will do good.” You look at him as though he sprouted another head.
“I haven’t casted a spell normally in… in-- I don’t even know… over probably ten years at this point.” You stuttered.
“It’s easy, you're adaptable.”
“And you are a complete fool! This is why the Brimmed Cap’s are outsmarting you regular witches! You’re too-- trusting! Too--- kind!” You huff, running a stressed hand through your hair. Qifrey stands and sits beside you on the bed. You stiffen at his proximity.
“Yet you relied on my kindness after running away then coming back. Does that make you a fool as well?” He asks and it stings because it’s true. You had nowhere else to go. Walking into the forest to be tracked down and killed wasn’t enticing so you turned back, back to the warmth of this atelier. You didn’t deserve its warmth but still you came back. Living in the cold so long it was hard to pull away from that warmth. You bit your lip.
“I’m… I’m not good with kids.” You say foolishly and Qifrey laughs.
“Kids are wonderful, and very forgiving.”
“They know what I am. They’ll just fear me.”
“Yet they made sure to watch over you as you slept.”
“You just have a counter for everything I say don’t you?” You shoot back and turn to look at him. He’s a lot closer now, he’s smiling a little, his eyes crinkled. You blinked at him.
“Will you do it?” He asks softly. It wasn’t like you had anywhere else to go. Your eyes looked over his face for a moment and when your cheeks burned you looked back down at your food. “I can offer things to you. Things that your old master could never do.” That draws your attention.
“What do you mean?”
“Protection. As long as you are in this atelier you’ll be safe from anyone that wishes you harm.”
“And outside these walls?”
“I will protect you myself.” He says and you look at him skeptically.
“You’re full of it.” You say but some weak part of you trusts his words, or just craves something stable. He saved you once to no advantage and that didn’t sit right with you. It was hard to grasp why someone would stick their neck out for you only knowing you are their enemy.
“I swear to it.” He lowers his head a little to meet your eyes at level. There was no trickery or deception in that look, none that you can tell at least.
“You’re asking a viper to train mice.” You say and he nods his head.
“I know.” He says foolishly. “Would you rather I beg and plead? I can.”
“You really are mad.” You blush, shaking your head unbelieving but he slides to the floor on his knees in front of you. Your eyes widen, cheeks burning. “Qifrey-”
“Ah. So you do know my name.” He smiles. Your stomach twists sickeningly. “Please… help me train my apprentices. I need them to be ready for what’s surely to come. I offer my protection, food and shelter to you in return. Please, I beg you accept my offer.” You could barely speak because your heart was effectively taking up space in your throat. You felt less like the viper and more like the mice. A blushing, foolish mess of a mouse. You had to look away, to cover your mouth.
“Fine.” You answer and Qifrey breathes out in relief.
“I was prepared for more pleading but thankfully you had mercy on me.” He smiled up at you. You felt sick.
“Coco, straighten up a little,” You directed as Coco flushed, the wooden sword in her hand wavering in the wind. She straightens but her stance is still wide open, and her grip on her sword is practically floundering. Agott moves in, that girl took your lessons to heart, she was as flawless with a sword as she was with a wand. You were quite impressed. Coco raises her sword halfheartedly to stop Agott’s blow but the force of it cracks the wooden blade and it splinters in half. Agott smiles to herself, sensing an opening and juts her sword forwards right towards Coco’s stomach. You sigh and move in, catching Agott’s wooden blade in a flash before it can strike young Coco. Agott gasps, both girls impressed by your quick movements.
“Miss?” Agott’s impressed look grinds into annoyance. “Why’d you stop me?”
“Because we're just practicing, Agott, no need to go for a killing blow.” You say, letting her sword go. She steps back, huffing. You reach out and ruffle her hair. “I’m impressed with your tenacity. Your footwork has improved quite a bit.” You praise and watch in amusement as Agott flushes, trying to keep that annoyed twist to her face. You turn to Coco, her sword broken useless in her grip, she looks positively disappointed. You had been working with Agott a lot longer than the others and although Coco had only been at this for a little over a week, she sure beat herself up over it. You walked over and grabbed another practice sword.
“Take this.” You say, keeping a softness to your voice. Qifrey had sat in on one of your first lessons with the girls and one of the only things he told you after you ended up making Tetia and Coco cry was to try talking to them softer, nicer. You hadn’t been around kids very much so it was a bit of an adjustment. It was hard not to lash out and berate them because that’s the way you were taught. But after that disaster of a first lesson you tried Qifrey’s way and was happy to find that you really were able to get through to them easier if you talked to them kinder… who would’ve guessed?
Coco cautiously takes the intact practice sword from your hand as you toss away the broken one.
“Can you show me your ready stance?” You ask and step back. Coco slowly moves into a shaky stance, immediately your mind works at all the openings in her stance, the loose grip on her sword, her elbow extended a bit too much. You heard snickering behind you, Coco’s face fell a little and she flushed in embarrassment. You turned, eyes glaring. Tetia and Agott straightened as if caught. “You two go spar.” You say and they nod their heads quickly and fumble for their swords. Your eyes find Richeh who was currently inspecting ants in the grass. “Would you like to join us, Richeh?” You ask, she just shakes her head. You leave it be. That one was hard for you to figure out. You focus back on Coco, she looks dejected. “Don’t look so gloomy, Coco, you’ve only been at this for a week.” You say as she deflates even more.
“I know, Miss. But I just can’t seem to get the hang of it.”
“May I ask what you were doing before studying to be a witch?” You ask as Coco lights up a little, nodding her head.
“I worked in a fabric shop with my mother.” She says fondly. You nod your head.
“You have to be rather precise while cutting fabric, am I correct?” You ask and she nods her head. “You have to hold the shears a certain way to keep them steady?”
“Yes, miss.”
“Think of the hilt of your sword like shears. Your swings will be messy and predictable the looser your grip. But the better your grip, the truer your strike.” You say and her face lights up, she liked your analogy it seemed. “So, show me your grip again.”
The girls ate happily later that night, their chatter fluttering all the way up to your room where you poured over one of Qifrey’s spellbooks, your stew sat cold on the side of your desk. It had been years since you casted spells that weren’t used for harming others. Mundane spells, like how to heat up water or to shut a door from across the room. It was just busywork, also an excuse to keep a wall up and keep to yourself. You enjoyed teaching the girls but beyond that you weren’t really sure what your place was beyond these walls. What happens when Qifrey’s kindness ran out and you were turned out onto the streets? If the Brimmed Cap’s didn’t snap you up then surely the Knights Morales would. You needed more spells in your roster. Concealment spells, spells to keep food fresh for years on end, all spells you could use on the run. You were hoping one day you would work up the courage to ask Qifrey what spell he placed on your room the first night he brought you to this Atelier. Now that would be a useful spell.
“Your food is getting cold.” Qifrey’s voice says from the threshold. It startles you but you don’t show it.
“It’s been cold.” You say, flipping to the next page of the book.
“May I come in?” He asks, lingering at the door like a vampire. You shrug your shoulders.
“Be my guest.” You say noncommittally.
“Such pleasure.” He says and you hear his steps approaching you at your desk. “What’re you lost in now?”
“Nothing particularly gripping.” You say and he reaches over to your food and you don’t see him cast the spell but suddenly your food is steaming again.
“I was thinking we could eat together, since you always eat up here alone.” He says, you turn to see he had his tray in his hand. You furrow your brow.
“I don’t need company.” You turn back to your spell book. You weren’t one of his apprentices and you surely had no idea how to act around him. This all was too good to be true and in your experience things that were too good would always come to a swift end.
“You might not need it but… I would like some.” He says and sets his tray next to yours, pulling up a chair. You feel how close he sits, your hair standing on end. You slam the spellbook shut and clear your throat, turning to glare. He’s so close, smiling so softly. “Ah, done studying? Perfect.” He says, pushing your tray towards you. So he wasn’t going to leave this alone. You sigh, relenting. Today’s meal was a pot roast you assumed, you weren’t much of a connoisseur and you sure weren’t picky either. Food was food. But also Qifrey had a gift for cooking, it was unnerving just how good he was at most things.
“Is it to your liking?” He asks as you eat a spoonful, nodding your head with a full mouth. He smiles. “I tried some different seasonings.” He says and you give him a strange look. It was weird to be talking so casually like him. Months ago you had been moments from taking his life. Now he’s chatting to you about seasonings. Strange.
“It’s… good.” You say, filling the air. He turns to you at your words.
“That’s high praise from you.” He beams, you look away, that smile is too bright. “Oh! Almost forgot!” He says, pushing to his feet. “I need to grab something.” He sweeps out of your room and you watch after him, confused. He peeks his head back in a moment later. “Will you shut your eyes for me?” He asks and you can hear the smile in his voice.
“What're you planning, witch?” You ask as you turn away, covering your eyes.
“Nothing nefarious, you have my word.” You hear him draw closer and your skin ignites. “Alright, you may look.” Slowly you turn around. The first thing that catches your eyes in the glint reflecting the light, it takes a moment for your eyes to understand your looking at your blade that had been hopelessly shattered the night Qifrey brought you here. Shattered no more, the blade was fully intact and beautifully sculpted. You sucked in a breath, slowly pushing to your feet. Your eyes bounced from the blade back to his eyes. Words failed you. “Here, take a closer look.” He offers it to you. Slowly you reach out, your cold fingers brushing the warmth of his hand as you take the blade offered to you. It’s hefty, a little heavier than what it was before but it felt entirely better made. You run your finger across the blade as a small sliver of blood blooms. Qifrey gasps and fumbles to grab a cloth from his tray for your finger.
“It’s fine.” You dismiss, lost in the beautiful intricacies. The leather on the hilt had been replaced with something thicker and easier to gasp. You turn it over in your hand. Qifrey clears his throat.
“It’s quite sharp as you can tell.” And you can tell he’s inching to take care of your wound. But really it is nothing.
“Yes. Very.” You smile, meeting his eyes. He’s utterly awestruck at your expression, his breath catching. His cheeks burn impossibly red as you ignore him and look back at the blade. “Who fixed it?” You ask, looking closer at the small details.
“It uh-- it was um…” He clears his throat. “A swordsmith in Kalhn.”
“This blade is magnificent.” You beam, you couldn’t remember the last time you had seen something so beautiful.
“Ah… so that’s what true praise sounds like.” Qifrey mumbles but your mind was entirely elsewhere.
“What do I owe?” You ask, eyes darting up to him. His brows furrow.
“Not a thing. It’s a gift.” He says. You shake your head in an instant, offering the blade back to him.
“I can’t accept this, it’s too fine a blade.” He reaches out and gently pushes it back to you.
“You can accept it because it’s a gift.” He says. You shake your head as he’s nodding his.
“Witch-”
“Qifrey.” He corrects with a slight smile, you glare.
“Qifrey,” You say slowly, appeasing him. “I cannot accept it.”
“Why?”
“Why would you fix it for me?” You ask sharply.
“Does everything I do have to come with such close scrutiny?” He asks back. You don’t know how to answer that, not without sounding like the paranoid mess you were.
“No one does anything without wanting something in return.” You say, eyes just as scrutinizing as he described. “I don’t want your charity.” Qifrey sighs, he nods his head and thinks about your words, as if he’s mapping out how to talk to you without offending you.
“This isn’t charity.” He says. “That blade means something to you, doesn’t it?”
“And what business do you have looking after my happiness?” You say, shoving the blade back towards him. “Do I walk around this Atelier like a wounded dog? Something you need to fix?” His eyes snap to yours. God… you so wish you could anger him into something truthful. You’ve sensed something simmering in him but he is so awfully careful with every aspect of himself. It's unnerving. You’d much rather anger, that’s real and tangible. More so than his false kind words and empty gestures. His breath catches, he’s measuring himself, thinking before he speaks. You strike before he can tailor a response. “What is your plan, witch? Hmm? Once I whip these girls into fighting shape, what then?”
“What? You think I’ll turn you out like a used good?” He asks, his voice wavering. You were getting to him. Good. You needed the truth.
“Yes.” You say. “Yes I do. Am I wrong?”
“Of course you are wrong.” He denies, shaking his head, his white hair moving then falling back into place as though a spell was keeping it perfect. “I have no secret ambitions hidden from you. I have been rather upfront with you from the start.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“That is fine. I don’t expect blind belief. But have I done anything to warrant disbelief in the slightest?”
“Yes.” You’ve managed to anger yourself into feeling foolish. Attacking someone not worthy of your ire but something about him irked you to your soul. Maybe it was because you just couldn’t figure him out. Couldn’t read him like all the others. He set you off. He kept you on the edge. Your soul squirmed. He raises his brows as if to tell you to list examples. You annoyingly couldn’t think of anything and managed to annoy yourself enough that this conversation felt pointless. Breath wasted in the endeavor to push him over the edge. You wanted to make him squirm, wanted to irk him as much as he irked you. But it was unfair and frankly rude to attack without warrant. You pulled the blade back close to you. You looked at the glint of the steel. “Forget it.” You relent. “I accept if you still want to give this to me.” You say and Qifrey nods his head.
“Please.” He says and you bite your lip.
“Excuse my manners. It appears I haven’t any.” You say, placing the blade on your bed.
“I expected as much. Come, let us eat.” He offers, sitting back down, this time you see him cast the spell to warm up both of your stews.
In the morning you wake to Coco milling about your door arguing with Agott. Their voices bring you annoyance at being woken. You weren’t an early riser. You pushed up, glaring.
“Does my threshold look like the best place to argue?” You call out to them. The two jump at the sound of your voice, looking startled.
“Apologies, miss.” Coco says quickly. You sit up, hair a mess, barely awake. You yawn, blinking slowly. “It’s just that… it’s almost past ten and Master Qifrey is still asleep and we're…”
“Hungry.” Agott finishes. You stare at the two of them.
“Hungry?” You echo. They both nod their heads. “And you’re incapable of… remedying that yourself?”
“Well… Miss… you see…” Coco stutters. “Master Qifrey does all the cooking so we never really had to… learn I suppose.” You yawn again, bigger this time and it pitters out into an annoyed groan.
“I’m not a skilled cook either.” You say.
“You made us breakfast that one morning… the meat and runny eggs?” Agott offers. Bacon and eggs, you meant to cook the eggs fully but they ended up liking them. You groan, pushing the covers from your body.
“Fine. I’ll be down in a moment.” You say and Coco breaks out into a bright smile.
“Much thanks! We’ll prepare the ingredients.” She says, zooming out of the room.
“Agott,” You call out, Agott pauses in the door. “Qifrey is still sleeping?” You ask and she nods her head, she can’t keep the worry out of her eyes.
“Do you think he’s sick?” Agott asks. You think he might be. You never known a morning where Qifrey slept past six am. Sometimes you would still be awake when he’d stir, whistling as he readied breakfast. That was your cue to sleep when you’d hear his merry tune. It lulled you asleep most mornings.
“I’m sure he’s fine, go help Coco.” You say with a soft smile, Agott smiles back, nodding her head as she turns and leaves your room. You quickly brush out your hair, braiding it back out of your face, changing into something comfortable by not sleeping. You wash your face and clean your teeth. You rush downstairs, put on a jovial face and cook breakfast for the girls. You plate their meat and eggs, fixing each one of them something to drink before slipping back upstairs. You peek towards Qifrey’s door. You had to check on him. You swallowed down your nerves and knocked once and waited. You knocked twice and waited.
“Qifrey?” You call through the door and wait again. Nothing. Your heart plunges to the depths of your stomach. “I’m coming in. Please god be decent.” You mumble the last part and twist the knob, pushing the door open. The room is dark, slivers of light dancing across the carpet from the cracks in the curtains. The room is warm, stagnant. You pad towards his bed, spotting his shape. The way he’s positioned it looked as though he barely made it to his bed before passing out. “Qifrey?” You say softly, gently reaching across the expanse, your hand is mere inches from his shoulder when his hand suddenly shoots out, grasping your wrist. You gasp in shock and his wild eye shoots to you. There’s a moment, a tense moment where you think he has no idea who you are then his grasp slackens.
“I apologize, I didn’t harm you did I?” He asks, looking close at the part of your wrist he grabbed you at, his thumb gently sliding down a particularly visible vein on your wrist. You yank your hand away.
“Are you alright? It’s nearly ten.” You say, rattled. His eyes widen, he shoves the covers from his body and pushes to his feet. He falters dizzily at the quick movement and falls forwards a little. Your hands shoot out instinctively, one hand bracing his shoulder, the other on his hip, fingers accidentally slipping beneath his black compression shirt. His skin is clammy under your touch. “Qifrey,” You admonish, pushing him back towards the bed. “Sit.” You say sharply. He does without argument and blink warily.
“I don’t feel well.” He says, stating the obvious.
“Yes, I see that.” You press the back of your hand to his forehead. It’s hot to the touch. He moves close to your touch, capturing your wrist.
“Your hands are so cold.” He states, relishing in the cold as he presses your hand against his hot cheek.
“Cold hands, cold heart.” You recite, his eyes shift up to yours.
“Hm?”
“Something my father used to say.” You say and Qifrey’s expression drops.
“You are not cold hearted.”
“It was a joke. Mostly.” You say. “Lie back.” You guide him back against his pillows, he still hasn’t let go of your hand. He’s quite clingy.
“What’s the diagnosis?” He asks. You pull your hand away and he pouts.
“I’ll fix you some medicine and something to eat.” You say. “Can you manage a cold bath? It should help you cool off a bit.” You say as he nods his head. “Do that then. I’ll be back in fifteen.” You turn and he catches your wrist again.
“Thank you.” He says and the warmth in his voice burns you all over. You were berating him just last night. How kind of you.
“I’ll be back.” You say, pulling out of his loose grasp. You find your way down stairs, whipping up a recipe your grandma taught you years ago and something plain for him to eat so it wouldn’t upset his stomach.
“Is Master Qifrey alright?” Richeh asks, startling you. You hadn’t heard her approach.
“Ah… yes. He’s feeling a bit under the weather but I’ll have him fixed up in no time.” You smile down at her.
“No doubt.” She says and smiles a little back at you before fixing another plate for herself. When you walk back up stairs you push open his door and falter. He’d just got out of the bath, a towel wrapped precariously around his hips. You startle enough that you just about drop the tray in your hasten to turn around.
“Christ- my apologies.” You say quickly.
“It’s alright. Not much to look at.” He tries to be funny. You didn’t see much but it definitely wasn’t ‘not much to look at’. You shake those thoughts out of your head. You can’t help the blush, can’t shake that away. “I’m decent.” You slowly turn back. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, red faced and pale. You walk over to him, feeling his face. He feels even hotter than before.
“Did you take a cold bath?” You ask and he hums yes. You set the tray down. You grasp the medicinal bottle, handing it to him. “Down the whole thing.” You say, he takes it, doesn’t even question what it is. Just does as told. He makes a face.
“It’s sweet.”
“No doubt my grandma made it that way so she could trick me into taking it as a child.” You say as he moves closer to you.
“Ah… family recipe?” He asks and you nod your head, handing him plain chicken broth, he takes it gratefully and sips at it. You watch him, his movements a little sluggish.
“What happened? You were just fine last night?”
“I… I'm unsure. It was quite sudden.” He says, popping a cracker in his mouth, chewing slowly. He got a little color back as he ate but his cheeks were still quite red. When he finished his food you took the bowl from him.
“Alright, lie back.” He does as told as you turn, dipping a washcloth in cold water, ringing it out and turning to dab it on his cheeks and forehead. He settles, making a contented noise, relaxing entirely under your care.
“You’re skilled at this.” He says.
“My grandma got sick a lot.” You divulge. His eye squints open, as if he can’t believe you gave him something about yourself.
“Is she..?”
“Surely.” You say. “I’m… unsure though. I sort of… left in a hurry.” He knows what you meant. You had told him how you ran away and joined the Brimmed Cap’s.
“She could still be alive.” He says and you laugh a little.
“Sure.” You pull back and redip the cloth, ringing it out again, you roll it up and place it on his forehead. “Rest. I’ll come check on you later.” You push up, yet again he catches your hand.
“Wait-- the girls-”
“Fed. I’ll exhaust them in training. They’re fine.” You say, his hand slides to your fingers.
“Thank you.” He says yet again.
“Get some rest.” You say, pulling away yet again.
When you pop in to check on him later he’s fast sleep, the rag on his forehead has fallen off so you walk softly across the room and gently grab it. You feel his face and sigh in relief. He’s not hot to the touch any longer. You fix the covers over him and place the rag on the side table. Your eyes drift back to his face. Looking at him like this, unguarded, felt incredibly intimate, so much so you felt your face flush. He looked peaceful, wholly unguarded. Without thinking you reached out and brushed his hair off his forehead. His cheeks still had a bit of blush to them. Your thumb traced the curve of his jaw, when he stirred a little you yanked your hand back, heart stuttering. He swallowed dryly and his eyes fluttered open. You were standing away from him at this point, pretending to fix him something to drink when in reality you’d rushed to get away from him.
“Ah… hello.” He greets, his voice rough with sleep. You fix him with a second dose of medicine and some honeyed tea.
“Sleep well?” You ask, back to him. You hear him pushing up to a sitting position.
“Yes… I feel… much better.” He says, you turn back and hand him the medicine. He doesn’t question a thing, just throws it back. Then you hand him the tea.
“I suspect the sudden illness was exhaustion.” You say and watch him slowly bring the cup to his lips, taking a sip. He savors it, breathing in the warmth wafting.
“Yes, I’d agree with that.” He says.
“Have you not been sleeping?” You ask and he nods his head.
“Not well enough it seems.” He offers a weak smile.
“Remedy that.” You say at that fake smile. “You worried the girls.” The smile on his lips dies.
“Oh… yes. I didn’t think of that.” He says, studying the inside of his half empty cup. “You told them I just needed some rest right?”
“Yes.” You say, gathering up the tray to leave.
“Wait,” He calls to you, you pause at the door. “Can’t you stay? You don’t need to rush off.”
“I have to cook the girls dinner.”
“They are perfectly capable of cooking, they’ve done it time again.” He says. You furrow your brow slightly.
“But they said…” You trail off and he raises a brow. You sigh, setting the tray by the door. “Your apprentices are some tricksters.”
“Ah… did they tell you differently? It’s possible they just wanted some comfort since I wasn’t awake.”
“I’m sure.” You say. He beckons you closer. You suddenly remember your thumb tracing his jaw when he slept, you didn’t walk any closer. His hand drops back to his lap, he swallows, clears his throat then speaks.
“I can’t thank you enough.”
“You have. Three times now.” You say and he smiles at that.
“You’ve kept count.”
“It wasn’t hard.” You roll your eyes and he smiles again, not that fake weak smile from before. A genuine smile and the way he looked at you that made you squirm in your skin. He looked at you the way your mother used to look at your father before times got hard. That blindly adoring look of love. “Is there anything else you need?” You say in a rush, eager to end this moment.
“Yes,” He says, sitting up more.
“What?”
“Come… sit with me for a moment.” He beckons you again. You bite your lip hard and walk across the small expanse of his room, you sit at the edge of his bed, he could reach out his hand and brush you with the tips of his fingers if he wanted. “How is the blade faring? Did you practice with it today?”
“It’s slightly heavier than my last one.” You say and he cocks his head. “The smallest bit of weight difference is easy to tell when you use a weapon your entire life.”
“Does that affect the way you use it?”
“No. Just that my swings have a bit more power than before.” You say. “It isn’t a bad thing.” He smiles at that.
“We should spar.” He smirks, you roll your eyes.
“I would wipe the floor with you, Witch.”
“I meant when I was better.” He laughs warmly.
“I know what you meant.” You say and meet his eyes, his eyes light up at your tease.
“I believe our scoreboard is two to one at this point.” He says and that makes you laugh.
“I yearn to tie then break that tie.”
“So that’s what you yearn for? To best me?” His voice is rich. The room felt smaller at this conversation. He leans a little closer.
“That’s my life's goal.”
“You wouldn’t have to do much to best me.” He says softly. When had he gotten so close?
“Is that so?” You ask and he slowly nods his head.
“You're rather distracting.”
“What do you mean by that?” You ask and he reaches across the short distance between you both and tucks a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. You freeze. You were the distracted one.
“You muddle my brain.” He says. “It’s hard to think properly.” You felt that. You were aware of your breathing and how much you hoped it sounded normal and not as irregular as your heartbeat. Your legs longed to bolt but your body stayed bolted to the bed.
“Once you feel better the fog will lift.”
“It has nothing to do with sickness.” He says and his eye dips down to your lips, he savors the sight, as though he was never allowed to look at them before in such detail. “Though maybe it’s some kind of other sickness.” You freeze again. You dig your nails into your leg and will yourself to get a damn grip. You felt like the hazy one. You had no quips to give, no sharp words, you had nothing. You watch as his eye raises back up to meet your eyes. He doesn’t look caught out or embarrassed that he took his time studying you.
“And… What sickness would that be?” Luckily your voice didn’t sound as shaken as you felt. This time he’s the one that looks away, almost bashfully.
“One that’s indescribable."
“How mysterious.” You note, slowly reeling yourself back together. But then he says your name and you feel yourself unraveling. “Hm?”
“Don’t you feel it too?” He asks.
“The sickness?” You clarify and he quickly nods his head, there was a kind of foolish hope in his eyes. You weren’t sure what you felt but it wasn’t something you’d let yourself explore. You shake your head. “I don’t feel a thing.” You say, pushing to your feet. “I’ll come check on you in the morning.” He catches your hand.
“Just… stay. Please.” He pleads, pulling you back towards the bed. You sit back down, cursing your traitorous legs for not carrying your wanting heart out of this room. It’s quiet, his hand is still holding yours. He speaks your name again before pushing up the sleeve on your arm, exposing warm, carved up skin. You flinch as his finger traces the spell etched into your skin. He’s not looking at it with fear or disgust, not flinching away from it like before. His touch is reverent and you let his touch you, unable to speak. He brings your arm close to him and presses his lips to the scar. You jolt, yanking your hand out of his grip. You burn all over, the soft press of his lips to your arm felt sickeningly good. You were sick. Likely with the same thing that ailed him.
He speaks your name again then his hand is sliding on your hot cheek, thumb caressing you like you had done to him. You part your lips to admonish him but the thought dies when those gentle lips press against yours. Your heart topples out of your chest, you grip the blanket on his bed so as to not touch him as his lips slide against yours. You can’t stop him. You didn’t want to stop him. He cracked your lips apart and deepened the kiss, stealing away your breath and the last bit of your sanity. You grip the covers so hard that it was starting to hurt, you held onto your restraint like it was the last thing you owned. But it was all done in vain because you were kissing him back, you were making little embarrassing sounds to match his. His hand slid into your hair and he trailed kisses from your lips, turning your head as he trailed his kisses down to your neck. He breathed unsteadily against your neck as your eyes fluttered shut.
“Shall I stop?” He whispers against your skin.
“No.” Your answer was quick. Too quick to pretend and hurt yourself in the endeavor to keep your hands to yourself. He pulled you to him on the bed, you lost your grip on the covers, your cold hands flying to his face and hair as you pulled his lips back to yours, he laid back on the bed and coaxed you on top of him, his hands sliding to your hips as you straddled him, bodies pressed together as his tongue slid cleverly in your mouth. You pressed him into the comforter as the kiss grew from gentle and exploring into desperate and cloying. Hands touching anything they could as he mapped out your body, sliding beneath the hem of your shirt. God everything was warm about him, his touch and the way he made you feel. This was wrong, you should’ve been able to show more restraint. Has he really bested you for the fourth time? Well really you were on top so maybe this was a win for you? You tug at his shirt.
“Raise your arms.” You direct and he does as told. He was always a good listener. You yank the useless thing over his head and toss it aside. His hands are already pushing up your own shirt and you let him pull it up over your head. He showers your exposed skin with kisses and flawlessly kicks off his pants, you hadn’t even noticed him doing it until he started working on your own.
“Lift your hips for me, please.” He pleaded and you were just as good a listener as he was. He pulled them off, likely tossing them in the same place as his. His fingers traced the outline of your underwear, his free hand coming up to pull your lips back to his. Your hips moved against his and he made a strangled sound against your mouth. Most unclothed and feeling foolishly hot just moments ago you said you didn’t feel anything. He called you on your bluff so flawlessly you hadn’t even known you were in a trap until it was too late. His arms wrapped around you, surprisingly strong.
“This is a horrible idea.” You say against his mouth.
“You think so?” He asks. “How horrible?”
“Astrnomically horrible.” You lie. “I hate you.”
“Do you?” He questions, back to kissing your throat.
“Yes… yes I do.” You groan, he sits up so your chests are practically pressed together, his bright eyes looking up at you adoringly. He worshiped you with kisses.
“How much?”
“How much… what?”
“How much do you hate me?” He asks breathlessly against your collar bone. You're unable to answer for a moment. “Hm?” He hums as you tug his hair a little and his hum breaks off into a whimper.
“So so much.” You lie again. “Sometimes it's all I think about.”
“Yeah?” He mewls, hands cloying.
“Don’t you hate me the same?”
“Not one bit.” He answers quickly he’s on top now, burying you into the mattress, showering you with kisses. He’s unable to verbally spar with you anymore and you the same. He speaks your name like a litany and you hate that you don’t hate him at all. No… you like him more than anyone you’ve ever known. Though the word ‘like’ wasn’t nearly a strong enough word but thinking past that made your head hurt and right now it was muddled enough. Neither of you let the other leave the bed the entire night and when you woke in the morning, a soft light casting across the room. Qifrey laid pressed against you, his shirt had ridden up a little in the night and the clothes you had thrown back on to sleep in were rumpled. You were tangled with him beneath the covers, his chin laid against the top of your head. You let him soak up the last of the cold inside you and listened to the soft rhythmic sounds of his breathing. You moved a little and he stirred, his arms tightening around you, pulling you impossibly closer.
“Almost can’t believe you're still here.” He says softly against the top of your head.
“It’s not like you're giving me much space to leave.” You throw back and feel him smile against you. “You seem moments away from casting that spell to keep me trapped in your room again.”
“Don’t tempt me.” He speaks warmly, his voice a little deep from sleep, his accent soft on his tongue.
“I should leave. Before the girls wake up.” You say and his arms tighten around you.
“Don’t go. Not yet.” You remember all those months ago walking up alone and confused in his room, a spell casted to keep you in. There didn’t need to be a spell now, you didn’t want to leave. But you also didn’t want to scar little witches. You push up and he pouts and groans.
“Someone has to be the mature one.” You say, warm feet hitting the cold hardwood flooring. You gather the rest of your clothes and walk towards his door. Qifey follows and gently stops you before you can slip away.
“This… meant something to you, right?” He asks nervously. You almost laugh. You kissed him back. You pulled his clothes off. You stayed in his bed in his arms until morning. What about any of that made him think you didn’t care? You weren’t the best with words but you felt your actions were pretty clear.
“I’m sick. Same as you.” You say and hope he gets the meaning. Which he does because the smile that fits to his lips is filled with relief and adoration. He steps in the way of the door and bends slightly so he can kiss you once more. But then it’s twice and thrice and you drop your stuff on the floor and stumble back to bed.
synopsis: you like your space. enjin likes your space as well.
authors note: hello. i, like most, have recently discovered gachiakuta. it's pretty great. could be an understatement. also could've posted this about three days ago but t.swift came out with a new album so that took up my time. hope you guys enjoy this. could be persuaded to write a part two if it's something people want. bye.
wc: 4.5k
cw: angst, slightly suggestive, smoking ya know, not proofread forgive me, use of y/n, fem reader
click here for my masterlist
This man is not to be trusted.
It was one of your first thoughts when you joined the cleaners as a blond man towered over you, hand outstretched, a smirk on his lips.
“Enjin, and you are?” He introduced himself, holding your attention. Your hand met his hand, large and warm. You told him your name, he kept holding your hand so you were the first to pull back. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.” Yeah that didn’t go over well. You glared and turned back towards Semiu who was trying to actively hide her laughter over the little exchange.
“Let me show you to your room.” She said, hiding a smile behind her hand.
You weren’t exactly the warmest person. But most people in the pit weren’t. The cleaners though… they were an anomaly. They cared for one another in a way you’d never experienced. They were like a family. And to someone like you that grew up alone, quiet and unloved, their love, affection and shared time was entirely overwhelming and entirely unwelcome.
You skipped the parties and lunches, you ate in your room and trained after midnight when everyone else was asleep. You trained up enough for months so you no longer needed to do missions with a team and from then on most people in the cleaners never even caught a glimpse of you.
You liked the money.
You liked the food.
And you liked the stability of a home that couldn’t be taken away.
You garnered a nickname that annoyed you but not enough to care to stop its spread. Ghost. You’d first heard it when you passed a pair of young cleaners. One met your eyes and his eyes widened like he had seen a ghost. You supposed now that he had. But at the time he just elbowed the other cleaner and whispered in a hushed tone, ‘There’s Ghost’. Ghost? You glared over at them and their lips zipped shut. You heard it again and again after that. At a point you’d heard that nickname more than your own real name. And you knew exactly who started the circulating of this idiotic nickname which is exactly why you wouldn’t go out of your way to tell that certain someone off. It was a waste of time and probably exactly what he wanted.
It didn’t help that out of everyone, who respected your space and mostly left you be, Enjin liked your space the most and did not like letting you be. He found you everywhere. He’d join you to train late sometimes, he’d leave the parties to find you on the roof, he’d lean by your door as you walked past, dinner in hand.
“Eating in your room again?” He asked one day. You didn’t answer, it was obvious. You unlocked the door and pushed it open with your hip. “Food tastes better with company.” He said, cocking his head to try and catch a reaction. You gave him none.
“It tastes the same either way.” You responded, slipping inside, letting the door shut behind you. Solace was much better company.
Once again a party brewed in the mess hall and once again you found yourself on the roof. Your room was close enough to the mess hall that you could hear just about everything, the music, the laughing and talking. You didn’t mind, the cleaners deserved to wind down, but that didn’t negate the fact that you couldn’t focus, work or sleep amidst the chaos. Unfortunately you weren’t the only one who knew that. Because as you sat at your usual place, the ledge of the roof, feet dangling over the edge you heard the roof door push open, the wood of the door dragging against the concrete. You didn’t spare a glance back. You knew exactly who came to find you. He always did.
“You ain’t much for socializin’ are ya?” He called out, pushed the door shut behind him. You’d been a cleaner now for over two years. You almost didn’t want to answer him because the answer was a given.
“What gives you that idea?” You asked into the night, staring ahead at the vast wasteland around the headquarters.
“Ah… many clues I've picked up on.” He answers obviously sarcastically.
“Should’ve been a detective.” You sassed back and you could feel his eyes on you as he approached. He sat beside you, back to the ledge. His large frame settled as he leaned a bit to the side, fetching his box of cigs and lighter. You paid him no mind as he placed the but of the cigarette between his lips and lit the end. He sucked in a few puffs before letting the smoke curl from his lips up into the night sky. He offered it to you. You shook your head.
“Were you ever a people person? Like maybe when you were younger?” He asked, voice thick with smoke from another puff.
“No. But you seem to be.” You say, cold air picking up, blowing against your cool skin.
“Do I?” He asks and you can hear the smirk in his tone.
“Mhm.” You hum in agreement. “Which is why you should just head on back inside.” You hear an exhale of a laugh from him and he leans back slightly, trying to catch your eye.
“Nah, I’d rather keep you company.”
“A ghost ain’t much company.” You answer, finally gifting him your attention as your eyes slide from the darkening horizon to his almost pale marigold colored eyes. His smirk widened.
“I was wondering when you’d finally bring that up. It’s been months, Ghost.”
“Falling from this height would be a quick way to go.” You said it as though you were commenting on the weather. His eyes lit up.
“Hm. I take it you don’t like my nickname.”
“Again with the detective skills.” You say, turning back to stare at the last dregs of the sun slipping over the horizon.
“I think it’s quite fitting.” He says, raising the cig back towards his lips. You plucked it from his hands and took a drag, watching his eyes widen just slightly. You blow out the smoke before speaking.
“No more nicknames.” You say, tossing the cigarette right off the roof. He watched it hit the concrete below, ashes sparking before dying.
“Ah. That was my last one.” He remarks.
“Bummer.” You commented as cocked his head, you felt his eyes on your side profile. A part of you wondered what the hell he was doing? What the hell was he ever doing? Why did he insist on talking with you, someone who has never been accommodating? He pushed to his feet and without a word left the roof. When the door shut you turned and sure enough he was gone. You turned back towards the night. You finally drove him away. You swallowed, biting at your lip. It didn’t feel as good driving him away as it felt with others. But nevertheless he was gone.
The door pushed open and this time you couldn’t help but turn. Enjin was taller than the damn door opening so he ducked slightly as he came back out onto the roof, two drinks held in his one large hand as he pushed the door back closed. Your heart lurched slightly as you whipped back around, not wanting to get caught looking. You didn’t drive him away? He walked back over and took up his usual spot, offering you a drink.
“Here.”
“I don’t drink.”
“I know. It’s warm tea.” He said and your eyes shot to his. He was smirking because he knew you. He knew you didn’t drink. Knew you preferred tea to coffee. He knew. You narrowed your eyes, slowly accepting the cup. It was nice to have something warm on this cold night. You took a sip, letting the warmth settle inside. “Say… why don’t you drink? If I didn’t know you any better I’d think you’d be a whisky girl.”
“Why’s that?” You ask, looking down at your cup.
“That or beer.” He rambles. “You just don’t seem like you like complicated things.”
“Hm.” You hum into your cup. “I don’t like either of those and I don’t drink because I don’t want to.”
“Yeah but is there a deeper reason?”
“Does there have to be?”
“‘Suppose not.” He says, taking a swig of his beer. You take another sip of your tea. It was quiet for a long moment and then for some reason you spoke.
“I don’t like being drunk. I don’t like being around people who are drunk.” You say. You hear Enjin set his bottle down on the ledge and lean back to meet your eyes.
“Too uncomfortable?”
“Too unpredictable.”
“Ah. I could see how that could rile you up.” He smirks, you narrow your eyes.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing bad.” He smiles, soaking up your attention like a sponge. “Just sayin’... You don’t seem the type to like much change.” You swallowed.
“Does anyone?”
“Some don’t mind.”
“Like you?” You ask and he reaches into his pocket for his box of cigarettes. You scoffed slightly. “Liar.” He smirks, pulling out his actual last cigarette and lights it.
“I don’t mind change. I don’t mind meeting new people.” He says, taking a puff. “I like makin’ new friends.”
“You like annoying them too.”
“Does that mean we’re friends, Y/n?” He asks and for some reason he sounded like he’d put extra care in saying your name.
“I never said that.” You say and his eyes light up again. Like he relished in your attention.
“Yeah, that’s probably for the best. Wouldn’t wanna get stuck there.” He says as you furrow your brows but decides against asking what he meant. He chuckles warmly at your reaction. He reaches for his drink and instead of taking a swig he turns the bottle over, emptying the contents over the ledge before setting the empty bottle back at his side. You swallow, a questioning look in your eyes. He sucks his teeth. “I’ve had enough tonight already.” You suddenly hear the music cut off below and that was usually your cue to head back to your room since the party had ended. You push off the ledge.
“Done?” He asks. You nod your head. “Let me walk you back.”
“Why?” You ask and he just smirks, leading the way. He pulls the door open and makes a show of motioning you inside. You sigh, brushing past him as he ducks inside behind you.
Most everyone had already scurried back to their rooms so the halls of the building were quiet as you winded towards your room, Enjin staying in step with you. You question his intentions. He never asked to walk you back before, most of the time you’d just leave him on the roof.
Part of you wondered if he was finally gonna cross that line again. Enjin was a convert flirt. He’d only flirted overtly once and that was when you first met and he had said a ‘pretty name for a pretty girl’. You didn’t know how to react then because no one had ever said something like that to you in the pit. Let alone someone like Enjin.
“Hey, you okay?” Enjin asked as you blinked, stopping.
“Hm? Yeah, why?”
“You walked past your door.” He cocks his head slightly, a ghost of a smirk on his face. You’d been rather engulfed in your thoughts it seemed. You swallowed and fished out your key, stepping back towards your door. “Something on your mind?”
“Just tired.”
“Liar.” He ribbed as you unlocked your door.
“Not a lie.” You pushed your door open and turned, Enjin leaned on the side jamb of the door.
“Gonna invite me in?” He asks and he says it like a joke, like he expects a resounding no and sure your lips form that word but that doesn’t come out.
“Alright.” You say, shocking you both. For a moment it’s quiet, the threshold between you two a tangible thing. You step aside and Enjin’s brows raise. You shocked him to the core. He slowly steps inside as though he’s afraid he’ll hit an invisible barrier and suddenly the room you felt was so cold and big suddenly felt small and warm. You pushed the door shut and wondered what the hell you were doing. Enjin moved around your room, eyes bouncing around your stuff as he took in a part of you that not a single soul got to see. Your room was mostly barren. A lot of other cleaners took care making it their own but you stayed almost exactly how you got it. Bare walls, white bedding, a chair near the window and a desk with a chair.
“Made this room your own, huh?” Enjin joked shakily. He was still slightly off balance at the fact you didn’t shut the door in his face. He reached for some books on your desk, finger tracing the spine. You found yourself not really knowing what to do. He genuinely was the first person you let into your space. God you really weren’t a people person. Enjin glanced back at you, smirking. “Gonna give me the tour or what?”
“There’s my reading chair, that’s my desk and that’s my bed.”
“Ah. Don’t forget the dead plant in the window.”
“I told August not to give me that.” You sighed, walking over to pick off one of the many dead leaves.
“That’s the last person I’d expect you to tolerate.” Enjin sits on your bed, casual, as though he’s been here before.
“He does most of the talking.” You say and Enjin laughs warmly and reaches across to the desk chair, patting it.
“Come on, take a seat.” His voice warmed. You sat across from him, trying not to glare at the fact you’d followed an order. “Why’d you invite me in?”
“Why?” You echoed because you were wondering the same thing.
“Hm.” He nodded his head. You reached up, running a hand through your hair and clearing your throat. “Why not?”
“Just unlike you, that’s all.”
“Why’d you come in?” You ask and he meets your eyes and sort of cocks his head, pursing his lips.
“Don’t you know why?” He asks and your heart sort of flickers in your chest but if you were good at anything it was keeping a straight face. You narrowed your eyes. The room felt charged and changed.
You’d spent hours, days and nights in this room. Reading and training and sleeping. Safe and locked away. Maybe a bit too distant. Maybe a bit scared of making connections. Not a bit. More like terrified. And the one that scared you the most was reaching across the small distance between you and easily tugging your chair a bit closer. Your poker face faltered, lips parting as you inhaled softly.
Someone you loved once said that love and hate were often mistaken for one another, both strong emotions that consumed thoughts. Because love and hate weren’t opposites. Indifference is the opposite of love. And as much as you wanted to feel indifferent or hate the man in front of you he was climbing up your walls like a rather persistent ivy. No need to break them down if he can scale them.
“You know… I feel really special that you invited me inside.” He smirks, he can see it in your eyes that something has shifted and it scares you. You plant your feet so he can’t pull your chair any closer. His hand faltered and his brows furrowed just slightly. Not a big reaction but an inquisitive one. You reel in your emotions.
“It’s getting late.” You say and there’s a pause.
“It’s barely past midnight.” He returns, you can tell he knows you're building those walls higher.
“That’s late for most people.”
“Not to you.” He leans back. “Come on, don’t kick me out just yet.” His hand still lingered on the arm of your chair, inches away from the bare skin of your leg, you could almost swear you could feel the heat radiating off him. You swallowed and breathed out shakily. “What exactly can I do? Hm?”
“What?” You ask and he leans forward.
“Do you hate me?” He asks and the seriousness of the question is undercut by the smirk on his features.
“Do I?” You echo, you were sure you didn't but that’s something he didn’t need to know.
“Well?”
“It’s nuanced.” You return. “I hate you in some moments.”
“And what about this one? Sometimes you look at me like ya wanna kill me and then other times you look at me like…” He trails off.
“Like what?” You couldn’t help but ask.
“Like how you are now. You're hard to read.”
How were you looking at him now? It’s not like you had a handle on your feelings, let alone enough to communicate them to someone like Enjin. For two years you’ve known this man. Not deeply, not even scratching the surface of him, just the bare bones of him. His jokes, his looks, his actions. You’ve seen him scamper out of other women’s bedrooms late in the night. You’ve seen him metaphorically jump on the grenade during missions. He was just as hard to read as he thought you were.
“So are you.” You say and that makes him laugh, actually laugh.
“Me?” He slaps his knee in laughter. You lose the poker face and glare but he keeps laughing.
“What the hell's so funny?”
“You think I’m hard to read? Me?”
“Yes! I’ve established I’m talking about you.” You growl and he wipes tears away, shaking his head.
“That’s too much, really too much.”
“Do you want to die?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He apologizes trying to calm his laughter. “It’s just hilarious.”
“How?” You push.
“How you can flirt with a girl for two straight years and she says she can’t read you.” He laughs even more. You sharpen your glare. Two straight years? You shake your head.
“The hell are you talking about?”
“Ah hell.” He sighs, running a hand down his face. “You know I did a lot for your attention. A lot of pathetic, desperate shit and you never noticed once?” You shake your head again. He sighed even harder. “I’ve specifically asked to be assigned to your missions your first couple months here. I’d show off? Nothing?” You shake your head again. “I know you saw me leaving girls bedrooms, come on, Y/n, I was strategic about about it.” He almost whines. You stare at him.
“You were trying to make me jealous?” You ask, barely following along.
“Yes.” He implores.
“That’s scummy.” You cross your arms.
“Nothing happened. For two goddamn years I’ve been stuck on you.” He says exasperatedly, like he’s exhausted. He runs a hand down his face. “This is humiliating.” He looked away down at his hand as he pulled it away from your chair.
Pieces aligned in your head. Moments where he looked at you a little too long, smiled a little too softly. He’d find you around cleaner HQ all the time. You just didn’t put too much thought into it because something as complicated as a relationship had your fight or flight on high alert.
“Do I have any chance at all? Or am I bugging you?” He asks.
“You always bug me.” You answer immediately. He swallows, nodding his head resolutely. Like that was all you needed to say. “And you irritate me. You invade my personal space.”
“Yeah, give it to me.” He leans back, knee brushing yours.
“You haunt my favorite spots. I know what you want but I don’t trust you nor do I want to. You and I are different. You just— you say shit and you get me mad and yeah I saw you with other girls.” It all came spilling out and the more you talked the more Enjin’s face changed from resolution to realization. You went on, shoving to your feet to pace your room. Enjin watched you in awe. He must’ve been surprised you could talk so much. “Yeah I notice stuff but I don’t choose to harp on it because I just— don’t know what to— or how to— go about it.” You huff, running a hand through your hair. “I like it here. I like my peace and quiet, I like my solo missions.”
“I know.” He nods his head.
“Shut up.” You glare. Working through things in your own head. Enjin blushes. “I like to train alone. But I don’t mind that you're there half the time.” You say and the words shock you. But it was true. You didn’t mind. Not as much as you thought you did. “So… so what does that mean?” You ask. To him? To yourself? You’re not sure.
“I think I might need more than ‘I don’t mind’.” Enjin says and your eyes snap to him. You part your lips to speak but nothing comes to mind. You turn, sinking back into your chair, knees grazing him.
“I don’t know what to say.” You swallow. Enjin nods his head, leaning forwards slightly. He had this certain look in his eyes that had replaced the defeated one from earlier. It was almost… hopeful?
“What exactly do you think I want from you?” He asks. You furrow your brow slightly, you thought it was obvious. You glance towards the bed and Enjin hikes up a brow. He understood your implication. “No.” He shakes his head. “Come on… you think I’d chase after you for two years just for that?”
“I don’t know what you want, Enjin.” You snap. He clenches his jaw.
“Let me show you then.” He grabs your chair, yanking it closer with ease. His hand slides against your cheek and into your hair as he pulls you against his lips. You freeze up instantly, the heat, the surprise of the moment causing a misfire in your brain. His other hand slides up your thigh and rests on your hip as he deepens the kiss.
You didn’t know what it meant to starve for affection, to be hungry for someone until this very moment. This is what you’ve been running from?
You match his enthusiasm as hear his breath hitch, he must’ve expected you to push him away but you kiss him back and chip at his sanity. He pulls back but your hand flies to his chin, pulling him back onto your lips. He makes a small sound in the back of his throat as his hand falls from your hair and both hands are gripping your hips and pulling you out of that chair and into his lap, the bed creaking slightly with the change of weight.
Why the hell had you been running from this again?
“Mhm- wait,” He mumbles against your lips but you push him by the shoulders back onto the bed. You’d spent years alone, locked away in this room pretending and believing you didn’t need a soul to fulfill you. “Please… wait…” Enjin pants against your lips but makes no actual effort to halt the moment. In fact his hand slides beneath your shirt and up your back pulling you down against him. “God,” He kisses you harder. Then pushes you back finally, you both pant and his face blushes immensely.
“What?” You ask, voice hoarse. He swallows with some effort and clears his throat.
“It was just meant to be one kiss. One kiss. I don’t want you to think this is all I want.”
“Stop overthinking.” You bend down and capture his lips again and the hand that had been holding you back locks into your hair, a knee coming up between your legs. Your breath hitches, you could feel a heartbeat in almost every part of your body.
“Is that,” He pulls back again and you sigh. “Is that all you want?”
“Enjin…” You groan. “I don’t know what I want in that sense. But at this moment I want to keep kissing you.” Enjin's eyes grow slightly wide, almost like he was surprised as if you two hadn’t just been making out mere seconds ago.
“Yeah?”
“Yes. Can we stop talking now?”
“Mhm.” He nods his head quickly and pulls your lips back to his.
You're not entirely sure how it happened but when his hand slid around your back he flipped you around with ease, your back pressing into the bed, his lips never leaving yours for a moment. He caged your body beneath his, his knee rubbing between your legs, the little friction causing you to dig your nails into his shoulder. You felt him smirk against your lips and then trail kisses from your lips to your cheek. He showered your face with kisses. Each cheek, the tip of your nose, your forehead then down to your neck. Your one hand dug into his shoulder, trying hard to keep your best composure but with every kiss you were undone little by little. He pushed your shirt up a bit, moving down your body, lips pressing against your stomach, you sucked in a breath hand flying to his hair. It took everything in you not to yank him away from you in surprise but he looked up at you and all was okay. He kissed his way back up your body and parted your legs with his knee, pushing them apart as his hand played with the drawstring of your sweatpants.
“Are you… waiting for something?” You asked breathless against his lips.
“Maybe some sense. Or chivalry.” He murmurs against your lips, you half laugh but it’s cut off when he pulls the drawstring, undoing the knot. You swallow and meet his eyes. He’s asking for permission.
This could complicate everything. Those walls you built, the careful way you’ve presented yourself. The relationships you’ve hidden from instead of nurtured. Did you want connection or connection? Hard to tell when you’ve had neither. Enjin was the only one you’ve had a running rapport with. The only one to seek you out, to make an effort. What if this one night causes an irreversible shift? You supposed that was already happening. Especially after the first kiss. There really wasn’t any way to go back to how things were now. It wouldn’t be fair to Enjin to brush things off now, nor would it be fair to yourself, especially when you know damn well you want this. You want this. Really that’s all that matters. But if you were going to be smart and respect a meaningful connection, sex wasn’t something to rush into. You cleared your throat, reaching for his hand, he let you grab it and pull it up to your face.
“Let’s take it slow. For now.” You said. Enjin smiled softly, he leaned up, pushing off his coat. Guess he meant to stay and take things nice and slow.
how they react to you sick or injured... ft. giyu, sanemi, obanai, mitsuri, shinobu, tengen, rengoku, & haganezuka
an: hello. it is 3:25 a.m. I started writing this around noon. geez. anyways, last night I watched the new demon slayer movie and here comes back my obsession with these characters. especially giyu... boy did he show out. anyways! this was a request so I hope you enjoy anon!
request: "Not sure if you still take requests but if you do could you do: Demon Slayer Hashira x reader (Giyu, Sanemi, Obanai, Mitsuri, Shinobu, Tengen, Rengoku, Muichiro, etc) How they react and/or take care of you when you sick/injured? I really loved your demon slayer group collection! It was so good to read! You’re so talented!!!! Thank you for sharing your writing with all of us!!!!💕💕💕💕"
cw: angst, sick, fluff, injury and blood mentioned, fem reader, not proofread
wc: 4.6k
click here for my masterlist
~
You had felt the sickness setting in. You knew it was coming. You trained day and night for weeks on end. Then last night halfway through your vigorous training it started to pour. You didn’t care nor pay much attention. You had demons to kill and if you couldn’t perfect your techniques all of this would be for nothing. You slashed and slashed, moving faster than the rain itself. Soaked to the bone, your haori felt heavy as you shucked it off, cold rain pelting against your skin. You sprinted forwards, mud beneath your feet as you readied a blow, hand raised, sword gripped tightly. You swung downward just as a hand shot out, sliding around your wrist. You gasped, losing the momentum in your swing. Giyu glared at you, you blinked and his haori was tossed over your shoulders.
“Come inside, you’ll catch a cold out here.” Giyu entreated, hand still around your wrist as he tugged you towards his home. You planted your feet, pulling you both to a stop, the rain picking up.
“I have a few hours left of train-”
“You’re coming inside.” He left no room for argument, nor did he let you keep those feet planted. One strategic tug and you were back to being pulled towards his home. You’d been staying with Giyu for a month or so. Master Kagaya wrote to you and asked you to stay closer in case of an attack and to stay with Giyu. You didn’t question his motives, just packed up what little you had and moved in with the quiet hashira. He was a lot different from the others and you. He seemed to like solitude. Seemed to like the quiet. His house was dimly lit most of the time, nothing indicated that anyone even lived there, it was like Giyu was just merely staying for a bit rather than living in his home.
Giyu pulled the door open and you inside. The cold was hitting you now, you couldn’t help but shiver.
“You need to get out of those wet clothes.” He directed and you agreed, disappearing into your room you changed. Walking back out, his haori in your hand you offered it to him. “Sit by the fire and warm up.” He gently grabbed it from you, warm fingers brushing against your ice cold hand. You shivered and turned, walking closer to the fireplace, the warmth licking at your skin. You sat down and closed your eyes, letting it warm you. “Here.” You opened your eyes to the sight of a tea cup being handed to you, steam drifting across the surface.
“Mhm. Thanks.” You said, cold fingers once again brushing against warm ones. You took a sip as Giyu tossed a cover across your shoulders. You almost laughed then. “You're real attentive.” Giyu didn’t deign you with an answer, he just quietly sat beside you. You sipped at your tea, feeling better already.
“You’re a hard worker.” He said into the silence. You turned slightly, looking at the side profile of his angular face, the warm glow of the fire casting across his skin. You weren’t sure what to say, to thank him or to ask him what he meant but as you thought of an answer he continued. “Have you always been?” His eyes stayed transfixed on the fire. You swallowed, throat tight.
“Yeah, a product of my upbringing.” You half laughed because every single person in the slayer corp, as well as the Hashira had a reason to be here. Had a fire under them that spurred them on to kill the demons. That was nothing new nor was your story. But Giyu didn’t laugh, nor did he look your way. For a second you were sure he didn’t even hear you. But then he glanced over, met your eyes for a moment before they slid to your hand that held your tea cup.
“Let me make you more.” He said softly, reaching for your cup. You handed it back to him and watched him rise and walk back towards the kitchen. You turned back to the fire, your cheeks burning.
In the morning you were sicker than a dog. The coughing had started around when the sun had started peeking over the horizon. You had never caught a cold before and it felt like karma that not only had you caught one after pushing yourself to the limit in the rain but you also had pretty much every single symptom there was. Runny nose, head aches, sore throat, coughs, fatigue and your body ached. Giyu had heard the first cough and was in your room in seconds with some medicine he’d whipped up and some hot water with honey and lemon for your throat. He didn’t leave your side the entire day nor the next.
“Are you getting rest?” You had asked at one point, Giyu nodded but you couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t been sitting wide awake directly beside you.
“I’m just fine. Now can you sit up, you need something in your stomach.” You did as told as Giyu handed you some soup. It smelled divine.
“I should get sick more often.” You joked, spooning the broth into your mouth, the warm liquid felt nice against your scratchy throat. After dinner you yawned, feeling sleep slowly take hold of you. Giyu fetched you another blank and as he was spreading it across you his hand gently brushed your cheek. Your hand shot out with the quickness of a sick hashira and grasped his hand. His eyes widened slightly as you pulled the warmth of his hand back against your cheek. “That feels nice.” You sibilated, letting your eyes fall closed, holding his hand against you. Giyu made no move to pull it back and when you woke up in the morning, fever broken and feeling rather healed his hand was still against your cheek. You sat up and yawned, the window casting soft white streaks across the room. Giyu was dead asleep sitting up, it looked uncomfortable. You reached out, and gently shook him. “Giyu…” You spoke softly, not wanting to startle him awake. His eyes blinked open into yours. “You should sleep in your own bed.” He sat up, stretched a bit and reached for you, his hand pressed against your forehead.
“Feel better?” He asked as you nodded your head, cheeks flushing. “Only someone as strong as you could get over a cold so quickly."
“Add it to the list of things I’ve beaten.” You smile slightly and almost think you see one on Giyu’s face.
~
You tried to hide it. The exhaustion but Sanemi knew you entirely too well. He knew the slight change in your expression, the slight color change of your face.
“You’re sick.” Sanemi growled, easily blocking one of your blows. You faltered, shaking your head. You two had been training in the heat, the sun glaring down.
“What?” You asked as Sanemi invaded your space, you backed up but he tossed his sword aside and grasped your hand, pulling you back towards him. “I feel fine!” You lied but his hand was pressing to your forehead and cheeks.
“You’re overheated.” He says and you shake your head, slightly delirious.
“It’s just hot out… I’m fine.” But Sanemi was shaking his head before you could even speak as he tugged your practice sword out of your hand and tossed it aside. “Hey! Sanemi I said I was f-” Sanemi easily tossed you over his shoulder and lugged you back towards the house.
“Stubborn.” He sighed, kicking open the door. He gently placed you on the cot and pulled at your clothes.
“Hey!” You barked.
“You need to cool off, take these off.” He said, you glared at him as you shucked off your haori and kicked off your shoes, letting him unbutton your shirt. The cool air hit your skin and you felt relief. Sanemi fetched you some cold water and a rag as he made you lay back. He placed the cool rag on your forehead and you actually sighed in relief. You had been ignoring how bad you felt in favor of training. “Better?” Sanemi’s voice was softer now as he sat on the floor beside your cot.
“Hm.” You hummed, letting your eyes fall closed.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”
“I’m not sick. Just tired.”
“Tired.” He scoffed and you could practically feel his glare through your closed eyes. “Next time you tell me before it gets this bad, do you hear me?”
“Yes.” You sigh, you didn’t feel like it was that bad but you also felt that if you moved in the slightly right now you’d probably throw up so maybe Sanemi was right.
Hours later you woke up, cooled off and hungry. You pulled the rag from your face and sat up slightly. Sanemi was laid on the floor directly next to you fast asleep. Carefully you pushed to your feet, you were slightly dizzy but you knew that was because you hadn’t eaten. You made your way to the kitchen and just as you reached for a cabinet you felt a hand slide around your waist.
“Sit down,” Sanemi directed, voice soft but firm as he guided you to a chair. You sat and he turned you so that you were facing him. “Got your color back. Just hungry?” He asks as you nod your head. He turned and you watched as he fixed you some soup. He placed the bowl in front of you and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Never seen you sick before.”
“Yeah?” You hummed, beginning to eat.
“Yeah.” He says and he’s quiet for a moment. You turn to look at him. He looked exhausted, he must’ve stayed up almost through the night.
“I’m alright. You made sure of that.” You say, reaching for his hand. He lets you take it. “You should go get some sleep.” But he shakes his head.
“I’ll wait for you.”
“For me?”
“Mhm. I’m dragging your ass back to bed after you eat.”
~
Obanai watched your movements carefully. After a certain strike you started favoring your left side quite a bit. He narrowed his eyes and held up his hand.
“Wait,” He called out to you as you turned, practice sword in hand.
“Hm?” You asked. He crossed the room to you, eyes still narrow.
“Is your leg troubling you?” Your eyes grew as your dry lips parted. He must’ve been watching really close to notice. You swallowed.
“Nothing I can’t handle.” You answered and immediately could tell he didn’t like that answer. He offered his hand to you and you furrowed your brows, slowly reaching out for his hand. Once your fingers met he tugged you a step forwards and suddenly you were swept off your feet into his arms. He carried you into the main part of the house and carefully set you on the bed.
“O-Obanai it’s nothing serious…” You blushed. “I’m just sore, that's all.”
“Show me where.” He said. You slowly guided his hand to your upper thigh and blushed when his fingers splayed across your thigh, gently massaging. “There?” He asked as you flinched in slight pain, nodding your head. “Lie back.” He said and you did as told, carefully maneuvering back on the bed as his hand worked against your sore muscles. You winced in pain when he rubbed a certain spot. “You must’ve pulled something. You weren’t up training after I went to bed were you?” You blushed heavily.
“Hm? O-Of course not.”
“You were.” There was no point in lying, he saw right through it rather quickly. You nodded your head, embarrassed. He didn’t scold you, just reached up and brushed your hair back out of your face. It was then that you realized he was blushing just about as hard as you were. “Take it easy, alright?” He asked and you nodded your head, his hand lingering on your cheek.
~
“Are you okay?” Mitsuri asked, you looked up from your food. You two had stopped at a small diner just outside of the village you were staying in. It was quaint and because you two had saved their town from demons they were gracious enough to let you both eat for free.
“Hm?” You asked over the hum drum of the diner. Mitsuri leaned over the table and pressed her hand to your face.
“You have a fever!” She gasped as you furrowed your brow, placing your own hand on your cheek, you felt fine but sure enough your face was heating up.
“It’s alright, I feel fine.” You reassured her but once Mitsuri was worried she was worried. She was up out of her booth in seconds and sliding into yours. “Mitsuri, really I’m-” She pressed her fingers to the sides of your throat, it tickled a bit.
“Your tonsils are inflamed.” She said with a wide eyed look and you almost laughed.
“What? No they’re not, honey, please calm down.” You assured as Mitsuri’s face grew even more worried.
“Your voice sounds off!” She said hands on your face.
“My voice is fine.” You entertained, gently grabbing her wrists, pulling her hands down from your face. Her eyes met yours, your face inches from hers. “I’m fine, alright? I promise.” You soothed as Mitsuri’s cheeks flushed but she nodded her head.
“You’re sure?” She asked softly as you nodded your head.
“Yes, my love, I’m just fine. Now come on, we don’t want to waste this food, huh?”
Unfortunately Mitsuri was on to something, though it had nothing to do with your voice or tonsils. Just a simple cold. Later that night you woke up with a fever and a slight cough and you wondered how she knew hours before it even set in. You wouldn’t get to ask for a bit though because the poor girl was freaking out. When you woke up Mitsuri sprang into action, running around grabbing medicines and drinks and a couple different cold rags that she kept alternating before she needed to. You let her fuss about, not questioning or snapping at her because she was helping. What you did do though, after all the medicine and stress, was grab her wrist.
“Take a break, alright?”
“But I need to get some more stuff for you to-”
“For me. Take a break.” You implored. Mitsuri stopped and let you pull her down beside the bed, not close enough to get her sick but close enough that she could hold your hand. Even though you had a common cold she kept checking your pulse as though the cold would kill you. You fell asleep with an amused smile on your lips.
~
Rain pelted Shinobu’s bay window, she listened to the soft pitter patter, hand paused on the book she was reading. She felt something and heard scuffling neat the front entrance of the butterfly mansion. She pushed to her feet and winded her way down the hall when suddenly she saw you. You were on your knees, soaked to the bone, two of her kakushi at your side. You looked up and met her eyes.
“Hey, Kocho,” You coughed as one of the Kakushi, hushed you.
“Miss Y/n, please don’t talk too much, come on let’s get you to a bed-”
“Let me take her.” Shinobu cut in as the Kakushi startled, they hadn’t noticed her. Shinobu gave a tight smile and walked over. “You’re a mess.” She gently pokes your forehead, sliding her arm around you, pulling you up off the ground with ease.
“Got caught in some rain.”
“Hush.” She pulls you to a bed, helping you down onto it. She presses the back of her hand against your face. “Fever’s high enough to cook a fish. How embarrassing even for a Hashira.”
“Even hashira gets sick sometimes.” You cough out and she glares. She sits down beside you and dabs your face with a cold cloth.
“Even for a hashira you're in bad shape.”
“Oh no… am I going to die?” You ask, trying to lighten the mood you put Shinobu in.
“Worried?” She smiles sweetly, adjusting your blanket with a little too much force. “If you were going to die, I'd have poisoned you myself.. Much cleaner. But this? Just a fever. Annoying… like a mosquito. So I’ll keep you alive… for now.” You can’t help but smile slightly as your eyes slip closed, there was no one else in this world you trusted more than her.
“How romantic…” You say tiredly. She laughs softly as she administers some medicine, making you sit up.
“Don't expect too much. I'm just saving my favorite pest.” She says as you open your eyes into yours, she’s leaned closer.
“Your favorite, huh?” You ask. Some of the medicine was still on your lips as she leaned and wiped it from your lips with her thumb.
“Mhm. That’s what I said, didn’t I? Now lay back down, you need sleep.”
“You can’t say something like that and expect me to sleep, Kocho.” You say but Shinobu just smiles slightly and pushes you back down against the pillows.
“Goodnight, pest.”
~
You sat near the window, staring out at the swaying trees. The rain had finally subsided and although you were in no shape to be taking a stroll you had at least asked one of the kakushi. She laughed in your face and set up a chair by the window, helping you sit in it.
You reached across towards the window and pushed it open, wincing in pain at the little movement.
As a hashira you had a lot more missions now, which meant you spent a lot more time in the butterfly mansion. The kakushi never got nicer and they hated your jokes. But one aspect that they did like about you was the sound hashira that always found his way to the butterfly mansion every time you were here, even though he was completely fine.
The kakushi loved him. They laughed at all his jokes and blushed and giggled. It annoyed you to no end. Charming bastard. You wished you had even half of his charm because the echoing silence after your jokes made you want to jump off the top of the mansion.
Today was no different. You heard the laughter and giggles and knew he’d be in your room in no time. You wished you could vault right out this window. But you could barely move, this fight had been a rather bad one and although you won you probably needed weeks to heal and recover. At least that’s what Shinobu told you right before flicking you on the forehead. When the laughter outside died you heard steps closing in and then your door being pushed open. You didn’t even throw back a glance, you knew who it was.
“No knock? I could’ve been indecent.” You joke but in a few steps Tengen is beside you, kneeling so he’s eye level with you. You suck in a breath at the seriousness in his eyes.
“Why didn’t you call for backup?” He asks, hand reaching and brushing your hair back out of your face.
“Huh?” You grunt softly, thrown for a loop.
“Miss Kocho told me the extent of your injuries.”
“Before or after you flirted with the kakushi?” You try to joke but Tengen doesn’t even deign that with an answer.
“You could’ve died.” He scolded, eyes narrowing. Your lips parted but nothing came out. He was mad at you.
“There were some… complications but… I made it out alright.” You explained, feeling your heart in your throat. Tengen’s hand slid against your cheek and he surged forwards, kissing you hard. You gasped against his lips, his large hand keeping you in place against his lips as he made it known just how annoyed he was with you. He kissed you long enough that you pulled back, needing to catch your breath. He pressed his forehead against yours.
“Don’t do that again.”
~
You sneezed, pulling your cover closer to your body. It was freezing in the cabin as you sat next to the dying fire. You prodded at that fire, hoping some of the final pieces of charred wood would catch but no luck, in fact you only caused it to die faster. You shivered, pushing to your feet just as the door to the cabin was pushed open and Rengoku came trudging inside, snow on his hair. He pushed the door shut behind him, carrying at least ten logs of firewood on his shoulder. You smiled sickly, wavering on your feet.
“You’re back.” You coughed as Rengoku turned, hurriedly kicking off his shoes.
“Come sit my love, let me warm you up.” He says, and in the blink of an eye he has the fire raging again, warming the cabin. He sits, pulling you into his lap and although he was out in the cold for almost an hour gathering wood he was warm to the touch. You settled against him, letting him envelope you in his warmth. He kissed the top of your head and ran his hands up and down your arms to warm them up.
“We can stay like this for a bit… but not too long. I don’t want you catching what I have.”
“I’m not leaving your side.”
“Kyojuro…”
“Y/n… I mean it.” He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you flush against him. He didn’t let you do a single thing that night. He fixed you food and medicine and held you for so long you were sure your bodies would meld together. But Rengoku doesn’t take anything lightly. He’s a serious and dedicated man.
~
It was far too late to turn back now, even as the rain picked up, your beaten and battered form trudged up the hill to Haganezuka’s house. The rain only picked up the closer you got. Soaked and shivering you tripped up his steps and wiped your hair back out of your eyes. You breathed heavily, pulling the shattered remains of your sword, wrapped in cloth out of your backpack. You focused your energy, pushing to your feet as you raised your hand and then paused. What were you doing? It was well past midnight, far too late to be bugging Mr. Haganezuka. You clearly weren’t thinking straight, you turned and sank to your knees.
You couldn’t walk any longer.
You huffed, clutching your broken sword as you tried pushing to your feet once more but pain lanced through your body and caused you to gasp. You stayed on the porch out of the rain and leaned against the wall next to Mr. Haganezuka’s door.
You were still recovering from a recent mission physically and internally. You had a rather large gash from a demon that had only been stitched up days ago and a fever brewing from your travels. Not your finest moment as a hashira but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at the moment, even as your eyes slipped closed, wet and shivering on your swordsmith’s doorstep.
When you woke up your circumstances were much different. The first thing you noticed was the soft blanket hugging your warm skin. You blinked tiredly, eyes slowly focusing on the soft glow of a fire beside you. The warmth licking at your skin. You turned your head, watching the fire flicker for a moment as you slowly came back into yourself. Your body ached but you weren’t shivering any longer. You breathed slowly as you turned your head the other way. You swordsmith was a few feet from you, diligently working on your sword, sparking flying as he honed at the raw steel. You rose up, stretching and wincing, you had forgotten about your hurt side. You grunted, too weak and aching to get to your feet.
“Stay where you are. I’ll be done in a moment.” Haganezuka spoke, his back to you. You turned, he didn’t even look as though he registered you were awake. But sure enough when you tried to push to your feet again Haganezuka sighed heavily and placed your sword on the table. “Impatient.” He huffed, pushing to his feet and turning towards you.
“Mr. Haganezuka-”
“It was startling seeing a client passed out on my front step.”
“I bet.” You answered as he bent to his knees beside you. He wore his usual mask, black hair back out of his face. A lot of swordsmith were downright fearful of this man and although he wasn’t exactly charming you had dealt with far too many demons as well as a downright pissed off Sanemi to be afraid of your reliably loud swordsmith. “Was I out long?” You asked, blinking slowly. You didn’t even react as Haganezuka reached out and felt your forehead.
“Your fever broke. You're resilient.” He said and the warmth of his hand left you wanting, you almost found yourself chasing after it but you stopped yourself. You must still be out of it… clearly. “You’ve been out for over a day.”
“A day, huh?” You echoed, swallowing dryly. Haganezuka nodded his head and offered you his hand. You took it as he helped you to your feet, steadying you as his hand slid past your own as he gripped your forearm.
“You hashira are a rare breed.” Haganezuka remarked, helping you to the kitchen.
“What makes you say that?” You ask as his hand slips around your waist, guiding you to the kitchen table. You sit and lean back in your chair, exhausted.
“Multiple cuts and bruises, a fever that hit over 104… most wouldn’t survive that. Let alone be up and walking a day later.” You yawn at his words. This was just another week.
“Did I worry you, swordsmith?” You ask, amused. Haganezuka falters, you watch his steady hands flinch and you wonder if you may have just poked a nerve. You cast your head to the side, wishing he didn’t have that mask on, obscuring your view. “You did say it was startling so… I suppose my question’s already been answered.” That sent him over, he gripped the spatula hard and you smirked to yourself, successful in your baiting.
“Are you trying to annoy me?”
“Hm.” You hum as he turns and although his mask is blocking his reaction you can just feel the heat in his gaze. Haganezuka turns back to his cooking. You sigh. You had heard so many stories about this man's freak outs but not once have you been able to see one. He was mostly calm around you, which freaked out all the other demon slayers when they saw it. He finished up your food, fixing you some tea to drink. You watched him and dug into your food.
“Were you too exhausted to knock?”
“Hm?” You asked as he set you tea in front of you. “Oh uh… yeah you could say.” You answered, not mentioning that it crossed your mind not to bug him so late. Suddenly Haganezuke slammed both hands against the table, upsetting everything that laid upon it. He startled you, the amusement at a halt. Here it is.. What you had been prodding for all these two years. The Haganezuka that struck fear into most slayers. He rounded the table and pulled you to your feet, sliding his mask up just a bit. Oh shit- his lips slammed against yours, causing you to lose your balance, his right hand slid around your waist keeping you on your feet.
how they react to someone else hitting on you...ft. giyu, obanai, mitsuri, tengen, rengoku, sanemi & hotaru
authors note: this was requested by and dedicated to @callmenobodyyxx & @itscheshirecay. hope you guys enjoy!
cw: slightly suggestive, fem reader, not proofread, jealousy, hotaru being scary, use of y/n
wc: 6.3k
click here for my masterlist
It takes a lot for Giyu Tomioka to get angry. It takes even more so to make him do something about it. Giyu internalizes a lot of things. Mainly his feelings for you. Those are shoved deep within the parts of him that can never bubble up onto the surface. And it’s damn frustrating. It’s even more frustrating that you're the complete opposite to him. Where he’s quiet and reserved, you are jubilant and attentive. You love to talk to people, to get to know someone and listen to their story. You like making friends and forming connections. You like being a hashira and having dinner with the rest of the hashira’s. You like being in the light. Giyu likes being in the dark. So why the hell do you affect him so damn much. Why the hell can’t he stop thinking about you. Why the hell does he crave that attentiveness and feel the twistedness of jealousy every time you smile that bright smile of yours at someone that isn’t him. It was quite simple. Something Giyu didn’t want to admit until it was forced to light. Because you kept handing out your time and smiles and conversation to people unworthy of it.
So as Giyu sat at his booth in the corner, listening to you charm the entire restaurant he was almost content with letting those feelings stay dormant. He felt like telling you these feelings would drag you out of the light into the depths with him. Who would want someone so gloomy dragging you down? He reached for his drink. These feelings, like nettles in his chest.
“Then what did you do?” An interested voice asked, leaning close to you. Giyu watched you smirk, you loved a story.
“The demon was crying out for its mother by the time I was through with it.” You sibilated and the crowd erupted in laughter and cheers. The interested voice leaned in and Giyu finally saw the face. It was a man, eyes lustful and moony. Giyu had seen you deal with quite a few people. Angry and sad and happy and interested. But never interested in the way this man was interested. The man’s hand slid along the back of your chair as his front barely pressed against you.
“Another round for the beautiful hashira.” The man beamed. Giyu stared for a moment, his heart bursting like pricks from a thorn bush. You happily accepted the drink and even turned towards the man, offering up to cheers with him. The man clinked his glass against yours and Giyu watched you both take drinks, eyes linked with one another's. The man placed his drink on the bar and leaned towards you, lips mere inches from your ear as he whispered something. You laughed and pulled back. Giyu couldn’t hear what you said but then you stood from your seat and followed the man out of the bar. Giyu felt his whole body tense when the door felt closed and that calming and bright presence you usually brought to every place ceased to exist. He should stay seated. He was wanting his feelings to die off and if he followed you right now he’d only make things worse for himself. He wanted you to be happy. You needed someone that could match your light. But was that some slimy guy from some seedy bar? Giyu was out the door in seconds, the cold air stinging his cheeks as the door slammed behind him.
“Mmm… right there.” He heard your voice off to the right and turned sharply towards it. “A bit higher.” Giyu rushed towards the side of the bar and rounded the corner. “Hold tight.”
“Y/n!” He called out and stopped dead in his tracks when he finally found you. You turned, the dim light of the lamp post illuminating the scene. The man was holding your sword, you were just behind him, adjusting his position.
“Tomioka? Everything alright?” You asked innocently. Giyu scowled as the man straightened, a smirk on his face. Giyu barely nodded his head. “You sure?”
“Head back inside.” Giyu’s eyes locked on the man, his voice even and eyes sharp. The man swallowed, handing back your sword.
“It’s fine. He was just curious about sword technique.”
“I’m sure he was.” Giyu didn’t take his eyes off the man until he was scurrying out of his eyeline. You slide your sword back into the hilt and step closer to Giyu.
“Did we get a mission?” You asked, eyes searching his face. His eyes met yours.
“Did something happen? Between you two?”
“Between who?” You asked, obviously not understanding his meaning. Giyu stepped closer.
“You and that man.”
“Hm? No.” You shook your head, smiling amused. “Are you sure everythings alright?”
“No. Nothings alright. Do you know how dangerous it is to leave with some stranger in the middle of the night?” Giyu asked, taking another step closer. You didn’t shy away because arguing with Giyu was something you enjoyed because you knew the moment you finally pushed him over the edge he might just reveal what was deep within. Something you were craving just as much as him.
“I was just having a bit of fun. No harm done.” You baited and smirked. Giyu’s eyes sharpened.
“He could’ve tried something with you.”
“No harm in trying.” You shrugged and walked [ast him. Giyu’s hand shot out.
“Are you… trying to make me mad?” He asked, eyes locked on yours. Yes. Yes you were.
“Like I said. No harm in trying.” You gave him a smile. Come on, Giyu… His fingers tightened around your wrist for a couple seconds before he loosened enough for your arm to fall out of his grip. You knew what he’d say next. That he was heading in for the night. You had told yourself before tonight that this was the last night you’d try for his affections. There’s only so much you could do. It’s not something you could force. It was quiet. You cleared your throat. “Goodnight then, Giyu.” More like goodbye. You brushed past him, a step away from the corner when his cold hand grabbed you again. Hope sparked in your chest.
“Don’t go back.”
“Where do you want me then?” You asked and that hope tightened in your chest.
“Nowhere near that idiot.” He said and you wondered if that’s all he’d do. Just hold your wrist and hope you'll get it. You got it just fine, you just wanted him to show some initiative.
“He seemed fine enough.” You said and Giyu shook his head quite resolutely. “He was interested in me, in learning how to hold a sword, he was-“ Giyu pulled your wrist and you along with it, his free hand sliding against your face, silencing your words by pressing his lips to yours.
“Enough.” He mumbled against your lips. “I get it.”
~
“You want some?” You offered, you were covered in baking powder, a bit on your nose and cheeks and all over the front of your smock. Obanai sat across the kitchen near the window, pouting as he usually did. You were cooking for the trainees on this rainy day and one particular trainee had followed you into the kitchen under the guise of learning how to cook a scone. On days where you spent most of your time baking Obanai would sit at the table just to be close to you but not up in your space. This trainee was up in your space.
“Yeah!” He answered as you spooned some of the filling off the plate and held out the spoon. Obanai had been watching pretty closely this entire time. Those sharp snake eyes making sure no funny business would happen. And that’s when it happened. Instead of taking the spoon and feeding himself, the trainee leaned towards you and let you feed him.
Obanai slammed his book shut. You didn’t jump but the trainee did. He jumped so far back his back slammed into the kitchen island.
“You want some too?” You asked innocently towards your fuming partner. Obanai pushed off the table and nodded his head as he forced his way past the trainee, holding back the temptation of choking him out. He watched as your eyebrows raised in surprise, it was clear you didn’t expect him to take you up on it because time and time again he’d just sit across the room from you and not say much of anything. He paused just before getting to you and turned back to glare at the trainee.
“Make yourself sparse.” He demanded with a calm fury. The trainee tripped over himself to get out of the kitchen. You laughed slightly, watching him go.
“He’s a nice kid, Iguro.”
“He’s not a kid.” Obanai rebounded as he watched you grab a different spoon and scoop some filling out for him to try. You give him the option of taking the spoon but he reaches up, gently pulling off the wrapping around his mouth. Your breath hitches as his eyes never leave yours. You're sure he’s looking for some kind of disgust, some kind of uncomfortableness but you show none of it as you guide the spoon to his mouth. The kitchen grows three sizes smaller as his hand reaches up and grasps your wrist, spoon a few inches from his mouth. You swallow as he steps into your space. “I'll have some later.” He says and leans to press a kiss to your lips. You're just about too stunned to do anything when he pulls away, guides your hand back towards his mouth and tastes the filling on the spoon. “Good. Sweet.” He notes and you stare unblinking, lips parted as he fastens his mouth coverings back on. “Next time no trainees in the kitchen with you.” He says and meets your eyes. You blink finally, clearing your throat.
“Uh huh, sure thing.”
~
“You need help with that?” A trainee asked to your right, you turned and smiled, nodding your head as you handed off some of the practice swords. He fell in step with you as you waved down Mitsuri who had been finishing up her last session for the night. She waved back, eyes darting to the man beside you before an unsure smile fit to her lips. “Miss?” The trainee asked as you turned back towards him.
“Yes?” You asked.
“You’re a hard worker.” He smiles and you purse your lips, smiling gratefully.
“That’s kind of you to say.”
“A lot of the other Hashira are scary but not you. You have really given me hope to keep going.” He says and the smile on your lips gets bigger.
“So you’re feeling better about the training?” You ask as the training behind you two ends, the trainees all walking out of Mitsuri’s lesson groaning from exertion.
“A lot better.” He affirms and you reach out, gently squeezing his arm.
“I’m happy to hear that.”
“Miss… I have to ask…”
“What’re you happy to hear?” Mitsuri chirps from a few steps behind. You turn, half smiling at her.
“Kanroji, I was just talking with,” You turn but the place where the trainee was just standing was completely vacant. You blinked a few times, looking all around the training yard until you spotted him running full force away. “Hmm. He’s actually gotten faster.” You laugh, turning back to Mitsuri. She gives you an almost tense smile.
“Can I carry those for you?” She asks and before you can answer she’s gently grabbing the few practice swords out of your hands.
“Oh… thanks.”
“I’ll help you clean up.” She smiles brightly, heading towards the field.
“Kanroji, aren’t you tired? I don’t wanna trouble you-”
“It’s no trouble.” She calls over her shoulder as you jog to catch up with her.
“You sure?” You ask as you fall instep with her. She nods her head resolutely. There wasn’t much to clean up, just a few broken practice swords.
“Hungry?” Mitsuri asks as the sun sets in the distance. You straighten up, stretching a bit.
“Starving. But I’m cooking this time.” You say as Mitsuri shakes her head slightly.
“I like cooking for you.”
“I’m sure you do. But I’ve had an easy day and you haven’t.” You say, taking off and jogging towards the main house. Mitsuri calls after you, laughing as you beat her inside. She follows you into the kitchen. “Miss Kanroji, take a seat already.” You laugh over your shoulder as Mitsuri scoffs.
“Let’s cook together.”
“You’re relentless.” You laugh as Mitsuri just gives you a smile. You work together on dinner for a bit, you chop up vegetables and Mitsuri frying them up. You set up the table as Mitsuri prepares the tea.
“No sake?”
“I have an early morning. Would you like some?”
“Mhm.” You shake your head, you weren’t going to drink alone. Mitsuri sat beside you at the table as you two tore into your food. One thing you had in common was your appetites.
“Y/n?” Mitsuri asked in between bites.
“Hm?” You hummed, taking a sip of your tea.
“That trainee you were talking to… Is he always quite friendly?” Mitsuri asks. You hike up a brow and meet her eyes. You thought about it for a moment.
“He… I guess so?” You say, unsure of what she meant.
“He helps you clean up a lot?”
“Yes… yeah he sticks around after training.” You answer nonchalantly, grabbing at your chopsticks. “I’m quite proud of him. He’s come a long way.” You say, smiling a bit. When Mitsuri doesn’t say anything you look over at her. With her chopsticks she’s poking around at her food. You immediately know something is wrong. “What is it? Did I use too much seasoning?” You ask as she immediately perks up just to shake her head.
“No no… darling it’s perfect.” She answers and you both have your own similar reactions to the nickname. Furious blushes. Mitsuri clears her throat. “I meant…” She staggers off, not finding the right words. You decide to show her some mercy.
“What is it then? You don’t play around with food. Is that trainee bugging you?”
“Bugging me?” She echoes, shaking her head but something was bugging her. You set down your own chopsticks and turn fully towards her.
“What’s on your mind?”
“You. You mostly.” She relents. You suck in a breath.
“Me?”
“Yes you!” She affirms, blushing red like a sunburn.
“In what way..?” You ask and Mitsuri pouts.
“In a lot of ways!” She blushes even more, covering her face with her hands. You find yourself blushing too, noticing now that your knees were barely touching under the table. You blushed again at that too. Mitsuri huffed into her hands. “I don’t like being… I don’t like that he…” She can’t seem to finish her thoughts, her voice muffled into her hands. You reach over, pulling her hands away from her face. You were going to say something but the moment your eyes met your mind went blank for a second. “I… I’m jealous.” She admits. You exhaled a breath held in your chest.
“That… that’s okay.” You say, swallowing, you were still holding her by her wrists. “But… you have nothing to… to be jealous about.” You say.
“I don’t?” She asks and you shake your head, letting her go. Because did you eat dinner with that trainee every night? No. Did you look forward to talking and laughing and spending time with that trainee? No. This was all something reserved for Mitsuri. And friendship didn’t even come close to covering what was brewing between you and the love hashira.
“Absolutely not.” You affirmed and hand sliding just under her jaw. Her eyes got wide a bit and for a second you have this crippling fear that you misread the moment but then her face lights up and her lips curl into a soft smile. She doesn’t wait for you to make the first move, she makes it herself. She reaches across the table and tugs you to her lips. Warm and waiting.
~
“Here you are, Miss.” the bartender greets, placing your drink in front of you. You give him a tired smile and take it. “It’s on us.”
“I have money.” You say and the man shakes his head.
“No good here. You and that man saved our town. We’re grateful.” The man smiles as you give a half hearted smile. You were exhausted, you and Tengen had just fought a couple tough demons and you were surprised you could even sit up in this chair right now. Tengen was outside, basking in the glory of the townspeople fawning over him but you weren’t one for the spotlight so you slinked into the closest bar and hid out the best you could. The bartender stayed close, cleaning off the bar and shooting looks at you. “Did you… have you worked as a slayer for long?” He asked nervously. You took a long sip and smiled.
“I’m a Hashira, which means I’m more important and always exhausted.”
“A Hashira, huh?” The man curiously asks. You nod your head. “That must mean you’re mighty strong?” You can hear the smirk in the man’s voice, you look up, expecting mockery but he doesn’t look amused, he looks impressed.
“I’m strong enough.” You answer wearily and he smiles, eyes trailing across your body before nodding his head, as if to affirm to himself you looked strong. You blow out a laugh and take another drink.
“I own this bar, and the restaurant across the street.”
“Ah?”
“Can I treat you to dinner?” The man asks, you meet his eyes and there’s no doubt in your mind he’s flirting. You wonder how long it’ll last before…
“Can you treat us both! I’m starving.” Tengen slides into the seat next to you, the smile in his face practically glowing from the crowd of praise he’d been receiving outside. The bartender seizes up a bit and clears his throat.
“O-of course, sir. Anything for the saviors of our town.” He says quickly and Tengen’s smile grows. He gently nudges your arm.
“How hospitable.” You ignore him.
“Can I have another?” You ask, pulling out some money but the bartender shakes his head and pours you another without taking your money. He also pours one for Tengen.
“Get to know my partner any better?” Tengen asks the bartender who blushes instantly.
“Uh— we were just—.”
“She’s a locked door this one.” Tengen smirks, looking over at you. You look at your drink. “I don’t fault you for trying.”
“Trying?” The bartender echoes.
“To ask her out. She’s something, I get it.” Tengen says unabashedly. You huff, glaring over at him as the bartender fumbles over his words.
“Leave him be.” You say and Tengen relishes in your attention.
“You like him?” He asks with a smirk. You down the rest of your drink, tossing money on the bar before hopping out of your seat and heading towards the exit. You shoulder out of the door as the cold hits your cheeks. You walk in the direction of the inn you and Tengen were staying at for the night knowing you had about five seconds alone before he was at your side again. “He’s not your type is he?” He asks and you’re so used to him popping up beside you that it doesn’t even faze you much anymore.
“None of your business.”
“He can’t be.” Tengen says to himself, he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. You don’t fight it, just pull it close. “I think you like someone taller than that.”
“I don’t wanna talk about this.” You say but he’s not listening.
“Or does height not bother you? You don’t seem very picky.” He looks down at you, smirks when he sees he’s gotten under your skin. So you decide if he’s going to pester you you could dish it right back.
“I don’t care about height.” You say as he towers over you. “He did have nice eyes.” You say and watch in real time Tengen’s face drops. He was wanting to annoy you but you had turned it around on him and he wasn’t expecting that. “And good hair. And a hard worker.”
“He seemed meek.”
“I don’t mind.” You shrug. “I’m not the talkative kind myself.”
“You need someone that challenges you. Ever heard of opposites attract?”
“Hmm.” You hum and shrug your shoulders. “He gave me free drinks. And offered dinner.”
“I offer you dinner all the time.” Tengen argues and you have to hold back the laugh as you stop walking.
“I should go take him up on his offer.” You turn back towards the bar when suddenly Tengen catches your arm. You pause, looking back at him.
“You’re joking.”
“I could settle down here. It’s quiet and-“ Tengen pushes you back against the concrete wall, hand behind your head so you don’t bump it. “I’m joking, Ten-“ he smashes his lips against yours, your eyes widened in disbelief. But the kiss is warm and consuming and all jokes and frustrations were forgotten.
“Done joking?” He asked against your mouth. You cleared your throat, cheeks red.
“Uh huh.”
~
You sat back in your train seat, arms crossed. Rengoku sat across from you, tearing through his second bento box. You watched him, took a sip of your drink, then sat back again. He didn’t look up for quite a bit.
“Do you want some?” He asked and you just shook your head. You had absolutely no appetite after your disastrous first mission with this eccentric Hashira. Your arm was in a cast, bandages on your cheek and stomach from being tossed about by a demon. You were almost food to be digested if Rengoku hadn’t swooped in to save you. “You should eat.” He pushed a box across the train table. You stared at it for a long moment so he reached over and opened it for you. Your stomach turned and you made a face.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Sure you are. You worked hard today.” He says and you look up at him, he’s all but beaming at you. You pout slightly.
“I almost died… like ten times.”
“But you didn’t.” He counters, smiling. You furrow your brows as he motions to your food. “You’ll feel better.” Reluctantly you reach out and pick at your food, eating just a bit to appease him. But once you started to get a bit more in your stomach you did feel better and you ended up eating the whole box. He slides another across the table and you don’t fight him on it this time. He watches you eat with a curious expression on his face. You look up at him.
“What’s that look for?”
“Nothing.” He says, a fondness in his eyes as you shrug and continue eating.
“I guess I should thank you.” You say.
“I’ll share my food with you anytime.”
“I meant saving me from the demon. I was useless out there.”
“You most certainly were not.” He says matter of factly and waits until you're looking at him to continue. “Most slayers don’t make it past their first missions. Not to mention you held it off successfully until back up arrived.”
“But I had to be saved.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.” He admonished you and you feel slightly embarrassed. You look down at your food. He was right. It was your very first mission and you were alive, eating food on the train back to the butterfly mansion. You were alive. That’s what mattered. When the train docked you and Rengoku stood as a man bumped into you. Rengoku’s hand slid around your back as you stumbled back into his arms. He steadied you.
“Oh… I’m very sorry Miss.” The man who bumped into you apologized, he’d lost his briefcase to the ground and had bent to retrieve it. When he stood back up his eyes met yours.
“It’s alright.” You gave a polite smile as patrons walked around you towards the exit.
“Oh… my you-- your that pretty slayer from the town over right?” He asked as you blushed deeply. You blinked, motioning to yourself.
“Me?” You asked as the man smiled brightly.
“It is you. I wouldn’t forget a face like that.” He smirks as you bite your lip to keep from smiling in embarrassment. “Can I help you with your bags?” He asks, you part your lips to answer but Rengoku beats you to the punch.
“She’s alright, I’ve got them for her, young man.” Rengoku says, stepping between you and the man, yours and his bags in one hand, his other hand gently guiding you towards the exit, hand softly on the small of your back. Once on the train platform the man clears his throat.
“Can I buy you dinner, Miss? As a thanks?”
“I just ate.” You answer and notice Rengoku’s hand still around you. You blush even deeper.
“Breakfast?” The man tries.
“I appreciate the offer but we’re catching the next train.” You say. The man sighs, running a hand through his hair. His eyes dance along your body and you consciously step closer to Rengoku.
“Well… how about a tour of town?”
“How about you get going?” Rengoku answers for you, his face still cordial, though the tone of his voice was definitely stern, something you hadn’t seen unless he was fighting demons. The man looks Rengoku over and you wonder for a moment if he’ll try something, it was almost laughable. But he relents, giving a halfhearted wave before disappearing into the crowd.
“He was persistent.” You huff as Rengoku looks you over.
“You alright?” He asks as you nod your head, giving him a soft smile.
“Thanks for the save… again.” You blush and he reaches for you, ruffling your hair a bit. “I can carry at least one back, Rengoku.” Rengoku simply shakes his head as he leads you towards the next train.
~
Sanemi had been seething the moment you smiled. He leaned against the wooden fence, watching over your training session as you helped teach some of the newer slayers. When it comes to flirting and attraction most of it goes straight over your head. It was like your mind only had so much room and most of it was demon knowledge and the occasional sweet. Alot of slayers liked your training sessions and Sanemi was noticing more guys than girls. He noticed they were staying longer after the sessions and he definitely noticed the flirting. But you sure as hell didn’t. Nor did you care as you beat each of them with ease with your wooden practice swords.
“Are you guys retaining anything?” You call out, taking one of the guys to the ground, pressing the dull end of the blade to his throat. He smiled up at you, almost lovingly and Sanemi almost vaulted over the fence and killed him himself. You helped the boy up and sent him back with the others as you had the next one step up. Slayer after slayer was easily dispersed by you. That was the small retribution Sanemi felt, seeing you dish out punishment. You dismissed them a while later and started cleaning up. Sanemi waited for you near the gate and listened as the group of boys walked by.
“I think tomorrow I’ll ask, you think she’ll say yes?” One boy asked as the others gasped and laughed.
“Absolutely not! Miss Y/N is way out of your league!”
“I could make her happy!”
“Could not!” The boy laughed as Sanemi felt his blood cool.
“You’d have a better chance with a demon.”
“I’m gonna ask her to dinner tomorrow.”
“You wanna keep your neck intact, I'd keep your questions to yourself.” Sanemi growled. The group of boys hadn’t noticed him and when they did they all went paper white.
“Oh-- w- we were just messing around, Mr. Shinazugawa.”
“Just like you’ve been wasting her time during training sessions?” Sanemi asks and the fear on the boy's face was sweet justice. But Sanemi wasn’t done. “She’s busted her ass trying to keep you all from being eaten by demons but you're talking about pathetic crushes?”
“We-- we’re sorry sir.”
“Not good enough.” Sanemi crosses his arms. “I’ll be watching tomorrow and If I don’t see visible proof that you all are taking it seriously you’ll be going against me. And I won’t use some pathetic practice sword.” The boys run off to train as you jog over.
“Everything okay?” You ask as Sanemi turns, nodding his head.
“You're too easy on them.” He says as you give him a soft glare.
“You’re too hard on them.” You say and Sanemi reaches for your hand, tugging you towards the main house.
“You should hear the things they say about you.”
“What do they say?” You ask as Sanemi shakes his head.
“Let’s just say it’s a test of patience for me.” He says as you laugh slightly.
“You’re just easily jealous.”
“Yeah. And?” Sanemi asks as he ushers you inside, something he’d been wanting to do all day. Inside, with no one around, no peering eyes, just him and you.
“They’re good boys.” You say as he makes a face at you before pulling you against him.
“They're not.” He argues, hand on your cheek as he kisses you, pressing you into the wall. “Stop being so nice.”
“I’m-- not.” You argue back against his lips.
“Are to.”
“Quit arguing with me while kissing.” You groan and he deepens the kiss, hands possessive.
~
Relaxing after a mission was something very sacred to you. In fact it might have been the sole reason that got you through each mission. Halfway through slicing a demon's head off you were already thinking about hot springs and all you could eat and warm blankets. This time was going to be even better because your sword, which you had broken on multiple occasions, was completely intact, which meant you didn’t have to visit your terrifying swordsmith, Haganezuka, at the beginning of your rest and relaxation trip. The few times you visited him you felt more likely you’d die by his hands than a damn demon. So this time as you were escorted to the village you were on cloud nine. You lounged in the hot spring, breathing in the night. You ate your fill at the village diner and drank yourself drunk at the tavern. One of the swordsmiths walked you back to the inn and offered to meet you for breakfast which you heartily accepted. The next morning you were ready to do it all over again as you headed to the diner.
“Y/n?” A voice asked as you walked down the stony path. You turned, smiling.
“Good morning, Kanamori!” You greeted cheerfully as Kanamori cleared his throat.
“Morning…Did… Did you just get here?”
“I got here yesterday morning.” You said as the man fell in step with you.
“And… you visited Mr. Haganezuka?” He asked as you smiled brightly.
“Nope! No need. My sword is great. I’m actually on my way to have breakfast with one of the villagers, can’t recall his name but he had a sort of spooky looking mask.” You explained as Kanamori stopped walking. You stopped a second later and glanced back at him. “Everything alright?”
“That’s Mr. Haganezuka’s competition.” Kanamori explained as you nodded slowly.
“Ah, really? Some drama there?”
“You could say.” Kanamori says as you smile slightly.
‘Well, fill me in while we walk.” You say beginning to walk again. Kanamori picks up his pace to walk in step with you.
“You… Miss Y/N, you don’t understand. Mr. Haganezuka is… hm. Trying to think of the correct word... He’s… protective over his clients. Mainly the ones he… is… fond of?” You continue walking, the diner coming into view.
“Fond?” You echo. “Are we talking about the same swordsmith?”
“Yes, of course!”
“Mr. Haganezuka is not fond of me. I can assure you that.” You laugh heartily, waving him off.
“Miss, I can assure that he is. I’ve known him for years.” Kanamori stresses. You reach for the door but he steps in your way.
“I am hungry, Kanamori.”
“Miss Y/n, dining with his competition is… He… he will be very…”
“Why don’t you join us? It’s not a date or something, just breakfast.” You say as Kanamori shakes his head so hard his mask almost topples off.
“Like I said… he’s fond of you and I’m not-” You reach out, grabbing Kanamori by the shoulder and guiding him out of your way.
“You are overthinking, alright?” You step inside the diner and glance around, the man who invited you wasn’t here yet so you took your seat and ordered some hot tea. You sipped on it, watching the trees sway outside of the window when suddenly someone sat in the seat across from you. You turned and met the mask you had been dreading to see. You sucked in a breath as Mr. Haganezuka stared across at you. “Mr. Haganezuka… good morning.” You blushed, clearing your throat.
“Good morning.” He answers tightly, ordering himself a tea. You trace the top of your glass anxiously.
“Beautiful day out today, hm?”
“Hm. Quite beautiful.” He agrees but his eyes stay firmly planted on you.
“My swords fine.” You say but it comes out in a rush.
“That’s good to hear.” He says as a tea is placed in front of him, he angles his mask up a bit and takes a sip. “And are you enjoying the village?”
“Uhm… yes. Yes sir.” You say, blushing slightly.
“Did some relaxing at the hot springs?” This small talk was killing you. You felt like any second he was going to explode. But you entertained it all the same.
“Yes. It was… rejuvenating.” You answer and he nods his head.
“Were you waiting on someone?” He asks and your heart skips a beat or two.
“Hm? Waiting on-- no… no. Not waiting on anyone.” You say and wish you had heeded Kanamori’s warning. This man took his swordsmith position very seriously. It wasn’t like you were going to drop him for another swordsmith. It was kind of a long way to go to keep your business. Haganezuke nods his head. You two eat breakfast, a tense silence growing and once you were done Hanganezuka paid and when his back was turned you tried to make a break for the door when suddenly the man who walked you home came in and you ran smack into him.
“Ah! Miss Y/n! Sorry I’m late for breakfast, I had a last minute client.” He greets as you look at him wide eyed. “What?” He asks then glances behind you. He goes white and you just know Haganezuke had to be erupting in flames by now. The competition hit the door in a sprint and you wish you could have laughed. You turn, a guilty grimace on your face.
“That wasn’t-- I don’t-- I don’t know that freak.” You explained in a rush.
“May I walk you back to your inn?” Hanganezuka asks as you nod your head in a rush. He opens the door for you and you fall in step with the taller man. In the distance you see a cloud of dust and the man you were supposed to meet halfway down the street.
“Mr. Haganezuka-”
“Hotaru.” He interrupts.
“Hm?”
“You can call me Hotaru.” He says as you nod your head quickly.
“Hotaru… You know… I value the swords you make me. No one caters to steel better than you.” You fumbled through your sentence blushing. “And--- I would… never as long as I live… settle for someone else’s sword making over yours.”
“Is that right?”
“That’s right.” You affirm. “Especially like… someone who’s your competition that I didn’t know was your competition.” You ramble, looking up at the tall man.
“Yeah?” He humors you.
“Yeah!” You decide foolishly to continue. “That guys… a hack. So I've heard.”
“You hear a lot about him?” He asks and you swallow, preparing to lie.
“A bit. All bad things of course, Mr. Haga- er uh- Hotaru.” You say, the morning sun is blocked by the shaded trees that line your path. You and Hotaru were alone on this path, and shaded from any and all prying eyes.
“And you share those sentiments?” He asks, stopping, you almost bump into him.
“Of course I do.” You say hurriedly. Hotaru nods his head slowly, you feel like you're walking on eggshells, hoping you don’t set him off.
“You sure?”
“Yes!” You affirm and watch in real time as Hotaru blows out a breath almost like relief. You furrow your brows slightly.
“That’s good to hear.” He says, stepping closer to you. You freeze, like a deer in headlights as his hand reaches across the expanse between you two and tucks a strand of your loose hair behind your ear. You blush like crazy, heart skipping four to five beats. “Visit again before you leave, Miss Y/n.” He says, leaving you alone on the path, a few steps from your inn. You stare after him and after a moment sit right down on the path. Kanamori’s words come barreling back to you, his words about Mr. Haganezuka being fond of you. You couldn’t believe it before but… now you didn’t know.
(this is part two! click here for part one!)
synopsis: maybe the top hero isn't as bad at flirting as you previously thought...
authors note: helllooooo! second and final part to this lil series. i think i'm gonna write some more sometime soon about other characters. mainly lin ling <3, old e-soul, queen???? we'll see. hope you guys enjoy this! it turned out a bit longer than I previously thought and i'm sure there could be another part but... idk. we'll see how this one does! enjoy!!!
wc: 4.6k
cw: spoilers!, fem reader, use of y/n, angst, slightly suggestive, super duper brief mention of sewerslide, not proofread forgive me
click here for my masterlist!
It’d been just over a week since you heard from your father. He’d meant what he said. He was a lot of things but he wasn’t a liar. And you didn’t bother trying to reason with him. He was done with you.
He had said many times before he only had a place beside him if you were a winner. And you weren’t one anymore. You lost. Pretty damn hard and pretty damn publicly. So you were dropped from your father’s hero association and quickly, a little too quickly to not be calculated, replaced by the next up and comer.
You on the other hand had actually managed to get signed rather quickly. All thanks to Queen, who had taken pity on you after seeing you sat in the parking lot of the stadium way past when the tournament ended. You’d never really been left on your own. Every single step of your life was puppeteered by your father. You didn’t exactly know how to stand on your own just yet.
But nevertheless Queen brought you to DOS and after less than a three minute talk you were asked to join the agency. It startled you a bit. Seeing as you were conditioned to think people who lost gained nothing in return. But you were still the top third hero and apparently MIckey, the head of DOS, saw that as a great achievement.
“Oh, and before you go, Winner?” Mickey called, your hand paused as you turned. Mickey was sitting back at his desk, his hand reaching for his coffee cup. “Our surveillance system wasn’t able to pick up you and Hero X’s conversation.” He starts, you furrow your brow, turning fully to face him.
“Our conversation?”
“During the tournament.” He supplies. You slowly nod your head. “That man he’s… a mysterious one. I haven’t been able to get a hold of him even for a moment.” Mickey tries to laugh off his words but it’s too hollow, too stressed sounding. “I even visited his floor but… it’s vacant. I’m just curious… since he didn’t speak a single word to anyone else the entire tournament, before and after. But he spoke to you… seemed like he said a lot.”
“Well he…” You cleared your throat, trying to recall the short conversation. “He mocked me mostly. Then he…” You stopped yourself. He had asked you to dinner and for some reason that embarrassed you. “Yeah… he just mocked me. My hero name.” You averted your eyes. You felt Mickey’s eyes burn into you, you forced yourself to meet his eyes. It was clear he only half believed you, which was fine because you were telling a half truth.
“That’s all?” He asked. You nodded your head. Mickey swallows, nodding head head.
“Well alright then, welcome to DOS, Winner.”
And welcomed you were. And marketed to. Though this time around you had a lot more say in the kinds of sponsorships and brand deals you took. You had asked a few times to change your hero name but it was always met with a resounding ‘no’.
“If you change it now, it’s like starting all over!” Mickey had said to you over the phone as you were chauffeured back to the hero tower.
“What’s so wrong with starting over?” You asked and felt disheartened when you heard Mickey’s laugh over the line.
“Winner is a beloved hero and a household name. Everyone knows Winner. Millions of people have put their trust in Winner. Winners in the top three leaderboard of heroes. You can’t start over now.” Mickey listened as your car pulled up and your door was opened.
“It doesn’t feel like me.”
“What does? Winner is a persona… she isn’t supposed to be you.” Mickey says and you can hear the exasperation in his voice and that part of you that never really got out of the habits your father instilled in you rolled over.
“Alright,” You conceded. “I won’t ask again.” You said, stepping out of the car into the blinding sun, you shielded your eyes as Mickey over the phone all but cheered.
“Good girl.” He hangs up the phone, that familiar click turning your blood hot. You shoved your phone in your pocket and strutted towards the elevator. It dinged, the white doors pulling apart as you stepped inside and let it carry you up to your floor. It slowed to a stop and pulled apart again as you stepped out, something shining and catching your attention. The familiar sound of a coin slicing through the air as it flips onto a hand. The doors to the elevator pulled shut behind you as your eyes met X’s. He leaned against your kitchen island looking exactly as he had the day he beat you. The same tailored suit, slicked back hair and shit eating grin, although he wasn’t wearing his glasses.
“Busy day?” He asked nonchalantly, pocketing the coin he was fiddling with. You stared at him, mouth slightly agape. He raised his brows slightly, tilting his head. “Well?” He encouraged. You cleared your throat, there was something about him. Something like a demand for your attention.
“Yes. It was busy.” You said. X snapped, two glasses materializing in his hands.
“Share a drink?” He asks.
“I… don’t have any wine-” He snaps again and a bottle clatters on the top of your counter. He turns, reaching for the bottle, popping the cork and pouring you both a glass. You hesitantly make your way towards him. He slid your glass to your side of the kitchen island and raised his glass towards you. Your fingers slid around the cold glass, slowly raising it to meet his. His eyes caress your face as your glasses clink.
“To signing to a new association.” He says, tilting the glass towards you before pulling it towards his lips.
“How did you-”
“I know alot about you.” he interrupts. “Also it’s all over the news.” He adds as you pull your own glass to your lips. You two meet eyes, taking sips. The third floor of the hero tower had never felt smaller than in this moment.
“What’s… your deal?” You asked as X leaned back, gulping down his glass, snapping as it refills itself.
“My deal?” He echoes your words, smirking at you.
“Yes,” You affirmed, setting your glass down. “Your deal.”
“You’re not still mad at me, are you?” He asks and you're glad you set your glass down because you probably would’ve sent it careening towards his head.
“That implies that I even think about you.” You countered. X perked up at your words, he almost looked… thrilled at your sharp tone.
“You don’t?” He asks, his voice… soft, almost lilting. You shook your head.
“My boss does. He’s curious about the top hero.” You said, reaching for your glass again, taking a sip. X purses his lips slightly.
“And you?” He asks, your eyes cut to his.
“And me?”
“Mhm.” He hums. “You're not the least bit curious about me?” If you could choose a hero name for this man, you would’ve gladly and quickly chosen shameless.
“Who’re you? What’s your name?”
“X.” He answers simply.
“You’ll call me by my real name but you won’t tell me your real name?” You asked. X took another long sip.
“It’s better this way.” He shrugs. “Any other questions for me?”
“Why’re you here? In my home?”
“Well you know… you never answered me.” He runs his finger over the rim of his glass.
“Hm?” You hummed before taking another sip of the wine. It was good wine, a familiar taste.
“Dinner?” He grins over his glass. Your eyes cut to his again. Right… guess you never answered him.
“No.” You said and X’s grin faltered for a moment before he smoothly recovered.
“No? Just like that?” He dips his head, a strand of his hair falling in his face.
“Just like that.” You affirmed. X rose to his feet, he reached up, smoothing his hair back, he raised his hands in mock surrender.
“I know how to take ‘no’ for an answer.” He smiles, the first genuine thing you’d seen from him. It was… actually a good look on him. He looked sly when he smirked. He looked down right handsome when he smiled. You walked him to the door, his hand reached out, clicking the elevator button as the cables came to life, pulling it up to your floor. The doors slide open and X steps in.
“You know, I pegged you as someone who would barter just a bit for dinner.” You said, smirking yourself. X’s eyes snapped to yours. “I must not know you very well.” You waved, he parted his lips to speak just as the doors slid to a close. You stepped back, alone and overwhelmed. You… you had never flirted before. It wasn’t something you thought would come easy but… it came easy just now. It felt good to smile, to tease and argue with someone who didn’t anger easily. It was like he drew out a different side to you. A side of you that wasn’t marred down by lessons learned the hard way.
X sent over a thousand roses a week later. You came home from a mission, exhausted and staggering in pain and tripped up on them, almost sent sprawling on your tile flooring. You straightened, powers extending to hit the light switch. Every color rose imaginable littered the entirety of your apartment, every single surface had a vase with tens of roses inside. Your mouth dropped open in surprise as you winded your way through the apartment. Your landline rings, echoing through your apartment. You trip your way to the phone, yanking it up.
“Am I pushing my luck?” X asks, you could hear the smirk in his voice. You swallowed hard, thinking about the clean up, about what the hell you were going to do with all these roses.
“Twenty would have been too many.” You remarked. X laughed, his laugh was warm and amused. You heard his fingers snap and suddenly all but one rose was gone, right on the table next to the phone.
“Better?” He asked, as you reached for it, thinking the moment you got close enough it would disappear but you picked it up, turning it over in your hands.
“I don’t understand your powers.” You said, tucking the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you walk the rose towards the kitchen.
“Yeah, no one does.” He says, his voice almost warm against your ear. You reach into the cupboard, grabbing a glass, half filling it with water.
“Tell me about them.” You say, placing the rose in the water.
“You wanna know more about me? Let me take you out to dinner.”
“We’re back on that, huh?” You ask, feeling something warm spread through your body.
“Well, here I am… bartering for dinner.” He says and that warmth goes a bit hot. You swallow.
“I don't get it. You’re an enigma. Everyones talking about you, about X. No one knows a damn thing, you don’t talk to anyone else in the association. What’s your fascination with me?” You ask, sliding onto the counter. It’s quiet for a moment.
“You’re fascinating.” He answers simply, voice serious.
“You never answer any of my questions.” You sigh, leaning back on your hand, looking back towards the skyline outside your apartment window.
“I think… it’s pretty clear.”
“What?”
“My intentions, Y/n.” X says and your heart actually flips in your chest. You clear your throat.
“Make them clear for me.” You say, voice soft. It’s quiet for another moment. What’re you getting yourself into?
“I want to take you on a date. I find you… alluring. Always have. I told you at the end of our fight I was a big fan.”
“Of Winner.” He was a fan of Winner, that wasn’t you.
“No. Not the hero you pretend to be on commercials and tv shows. The one I see on the news smiling as she saves the day. The one that still introduces herself as if she’s not a top hero.” You swallow dryly at his words. Did he understand you? Was he seeing past the manufactured ‘you’?
“It’s… only polite to introduce yourself.” You covered, trying not to sound as affected as you felt. Even you didn’t entirely know who you were yet. There definitely still was a part of you, probably a part you could never entirely rid yourself of, that was still competitive. You wanted to be the top hero and you wanted that title to be something only you accomplished. To show your father you weren’t useless and still had worth.
“I have a feeling you're going to turn me down again.” X’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts as you purse your lips.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why’s that?” He asks, you think it’s pretty obvious.
“I want to be the top hero. I could’ve been the top hero.” You start, glancing over at the rose on your countertop. “I’m going to spend a lot of my time this year training up so I can wipe the floor with you at the next competition.”
“Ah. So it’s like that, huh?” He asks, that smirk coming back, you could practically see it.
“Enjoy it while you can.”
“Y/n, are you thinking this declaration of war will deter me in any way? Because… Quite frankly, now I want that date with you more than anything. I like a woman who knows what she wants.” Your brows shoot up in surprise. You were sure your words would put an end to the chase X was running.
“You’re insatiable.” You half laugh, half scoff in surprise.
“Satiate me then. It’s one date.” He bartered quite well. When did just dinner turn into a date? And it was just one date. Something you’d never been on. Plus this could be your one and only chance to get actual answers about him. Everyone has a weakness, and you needed to find out what that was if you wanted a fair fight.
“Alright. One date.”
“Be ready in an hour.” X answered smoothly, you shot up.
“Now?”
“Mhm. I’ll be there in an hour.” He hummed and the line went dead. You hopped off the counter and for an hour you rushed around. You took a shower and blow dried and styled your hair. You pulled on a dress that Queen let you borrow for a gala a few weeks ago and stopped in the kitchen, taking two shots to calm your nerves. Just as you set the shot glass down the elevator doors dinged and X stepped inside your apartment.
“You didn’t give me much time, asshole.” You called out to him as he rounded the corner, he stopped in his tracks and so did you. He wasn’t wearing a white suit, nor did he have white hair. You didn’t know who this man was. “Who the hell-“
“It’s me.” He says, reaching up to push his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose. He had clean black hair, pushed sideways out of his face, black rimmed glasses and a fitted black salaryman suit. He looked like an office job worker, someone that would bump into on the street in a hurry to get back to the office. You furrowed your brows. He snaps his fingers and in a blink of an eye the white suit materializes, his black hair smoothing into white. He snaps again and he’s back to normal. “Most hero’s need a disguise to hide behind.” He reaches up, running a hand through his black hair. You realized you hadn’t said a word and cleared your throat. “Oh no… did I lose my appeal?”
“So this is who you are?” You ask and his face softens slightly, he nods his head. “You’ll show me this but won’t tell me your real name.”
“I’ll save that for the second date.” He smirks and that smirk was enough to make you realize it really was him, the two could coexist in your mind purely by the way he smiled. You relax slightly, your creased brow calming.
“I really don’t get you.” You said but your voice wasn’t sharp or annoyed.
“Figured maybe you had a thing for brunettes.” His words draw a laugh out of you as you roll your eyes.
“I don’t know what my thing is.”
“Well I hope you like sushi.” He raises his arm. You hadn’t even noticed he was holding a take out bag.
“I thought you knew a place?”
“Mhm. Your place.” He smirks, crossing the floor to the kitchen island, ripping open the bag to start pulling out the food. “I wouldn't get a moment of peace with you out in the public.”
“Why's that?” You asked, crossing the floor to lean on the kitchen island, his hands, once smoothly removing the food, shakes a bit at your closeness. He clears his throat.
“You’re a top hero… everyone will know you. Not to mention you’d be on a date… looking like that.” His eyes drag down your body then back up to your face. You glare at him. “Pushing my luck again?” You nod your head and he laughs, snapping as two glasses and a bottle of wine appear on the table.
“If I had known we’d be staying in I wouldn’t have bothered with this dress.”
“I’m glad you bothered. And I’m glad I’m the only one to see you in it.”
“I wore it to a gala. A lot of people saw me in it.” You remarked, reaching for the wine but he’s quicker than you. He grabs it, pouring you a glass.
“You hate being flirted with, don’t you?” He asks, pouring his own drink. You thought about that for a moment. It’s not that you didn’t like to be flirted with, it was more so there was still a part of you that hated that he beat you. And sometimes being antagonistic to his flirting seemed to be a small payback. You shrugged, taking a drink.
“I wouldn’t say I hate it. Maybe you’re not as slick as you think.” You say and find yourself smirking into your glass. X cocks his head slightly, eyes devouring your expression. You flush under the scrutiny of his gaze and wonder if your words pushed him to try harder.
“See this is why I bartered for dinner. What other woman would tear me down at every given opportunity?” He asks, his face all amusement and light. You bite your lip, hiding a smile.
“I guess… maybe I am a bit mad at you.” You say as he starts dividing out the food.
“Why’s that?”
“You beat me.” You say and feel a bit out in the open at your response. You couldn’t hide the vulnerability and you’d never been good at keeping secrets and for some reason you felt disarmed by him. He showed a side of himself to you that no one else knew about.
“I did.” He smirks and you glare at him. He laughs it off and reaches for his glass. “But that’s because you didn’t want to win for yourself, right? You wanted to win for your father.” Your mouth goes dry. “Look, it's not hard to see how hard he pushed you. When you first became a hero you were everywhere. In every tournament and talk show. You were in movies and on cereal boxes. Everyone knew who you were purely because of how much you worked. There’s not a single other hero, aside from Nice, that worked as hard as you. And we all know what happened to him.” That’s right. You remember seeing that on the news. The hero Nice killed himself because of the pressures placed on his shoulders. You remember your father laughing at the tv. Claiming not every hero can take the pressure. It made you angry. You pop some sushi into your mouth.
“It… it wasn’t all bad.” You say, avoid eye contact. “I wouldn’t be where I am today if my father hadn’t pushed me.”
“Your father shoved you. Not pushed. And no one thinks about your father when they think about Winner. They just see you.”
“They see the persona he created.”
“Sure. He may have created Winner but what’s an empty persona without someone to fill it?” He asks. You swallow, slowly meeting his eyes. “Your success is yours alone. Your father never fought against villains or in tournaments. You did.”
“You really do sound like a fan.” You try to lighten the moment, the tension between you two has gotten a bit thicker.
“I’m a big fan. I already told you that.” He smiles. You blow out a laugh. “And if your heart is really in it, I think maybe you could beat me.”
“I don’t know about that.” You laugh, gulping down the rest of your glass. “You snap your fingers and stuff appears like magic. You beat most everyone in the tournament in mere seconds. I could put up a fight but I don’t think I’ll win.” You say as X snaps his fingers and his other persona walks around the kitchen island to stand in your space. You turn, looking up at him.
“You wanna know my weakness?” He asks, somehow he was even closer. You swallowed dryly, tried to push down the heat rising within you, failing miserably as your cheeks warm up. You nod your head and watch a ghost of a smirk on his face form. He reaches for your hand, warmer than your own as he guides your hand to his chest, holding it right over his heart. “I’m still human. You pierce right here and that crown is yours.” Your heart skipped a beat, his hand enveloped yours, he towered over you. You couldn’t find words, your eyes were locked with his. There was so much confusion. Your head and heart were at war. Nothing winning over lust. Because you’d never met someone so invested in you. Not Winner. You. “Did I push my luck again?” He asked for final time.
Your hand shot to his tie and yanked him down forcibly against your lips. He made a surprised grunt of a noise, probably due to your strength. Sometimes you forget the extent of your powers. X didn’t waste much time in reveling in surprise though, he recovered swiftly. His hands are on you in seconds, sliding down to your hips, pulling you closer.
This was a horrible idea. You’d be facing this man in a tournament for top hero.
Your hand ran through, messing up his hair, the other sliding against his cheek as his hand reached out, knocking things off the counter out of the way as his arm wrapped around your hip. He easily pulled you up onto the counter, parting your knees with his hand as he stood between them, body pressed against yours. Your dress rode up dangerously high on your thighs, his hand sliding up your thigh.
You wanted to be top hero. You wanted to be top hero. You wanted to-
He trailed his lips away from your own, kissing down your jaw to your neck. You sucked in a breath. You felt as though someone set you on fire. You supposed it was X.
He wouldn’t even tell you his real name. He was trying to get into your head. This is how he’d win again.
“God… you wreck me..” He murmured against your neck. Who knew four words could make any shred of doubt about this moment completely evaporate. That little voice in your head had shut right up. You melted against him, hands yanking his lips back onto your own. You kissed him hard enough to bruise because your frustrations had passed into lust and you had to one up him in some way. Your hand slid beneath the shoulders of his suit jacket and pushed it off. He didn’t protest and even smiled against your lips. You fumbled with his tie, huffing as you pulled away from his lips to get a better look at the damn thing as it gave you trouble. He raised a brow watching you struggle.
“What the hell?” You mumbled, he didn’t take his hands off you to help. “What kind of knot is this?”
“The regular one.” He answered with an amused expression. You shot him a glare, letting go.
“Take off your tie.” You demanded and at your tone his hands flew to his tie, unknotting it with sly ease. You took over, whipping it off him. You blew out a sharp breath.
“This is a new side of you.” X said, voice breathy and you met his eyes.
Sometimes you got frustrated and angry. When you worked for your father your frustrations were seen as a weakness and what anger you had, your father had a whole reserve of. So usually you were able to take it out on the training dummies or run around the gym until you collapsed. You weren’t entirely sure what was making you angry here. Maybe the lack of control, your feelings of inferiority against X.
You close your eyes, shaking your head. He’d done nothing wrong that you could see and you were misplacing your frustration. This just wasn’t something you were ready for.
“This isn’t going to work.” You said after a moment. X’s thumb gently moved against your thigh. You couldn’t get out of your own head about all of this. About whether he was using you. “What… do you have to gain from this?” You ask and X’s hands pause on your skin.
“I have nothing to gain but your time.”
“Bullshit.” You scoff.
“Not everyone’s out for blood.” He says, reaching up and tucking your hair gently behind your ear. You met his eyes. “I think we both want similar things, judging by the way you kissed me.” You flushed at the memory. “I’m at your mercy, Y/n. What you say goes.”
“If you're using me to— to get something I’ll kill you.” X smiles at your words, he drags his thumb gently across your cheek and leans in. “I mean it-,” He cuts you off, pressing a kiss to your lips. He kisses you tenderly, trying to make you forget those pesky worries.
“I’ve been warned.” He whispers against your mouth. You breathed out shakily, flexing your hands tightly to keep from yanking him on top of you. He slowly pulled back, eyes looking over your flushed face. His hands slid onto your hips, easing you off the counter. “Walk me to the door?” He asks.
“You… you can stay. We can eat.”
“I don’t think we’ll do much eating if I stay.” He answers, his eyes eating up your face. You slowly nod your head, quickly fixing your dress, leading him to the door. You ruined the night, you felt it deep in your bones. You weren’t ready so you ruined things. He reaches for the elevator button.
“Sorry.” You intone, a few steps behind him. His hand pauses, he doesn’t press the button. You look guiltily at the ground. “I ruined the date.”
“You didn’t.” He laughs and your eyes shoot up to him. “On the contrary, I had fun. Can we do this again?”
“You’re joking.” You respond tonelessly, bordering on surprise.
“Nope. I’ve fallen quite hard. I think I need another night like this with you.” You can’t help but blush. “I’ll call you.” He presses the button and it dings, the doors sliding open. He turns and meets your eyes. You walk a few steps to the door, hand shooting out to grab his tie once more. You pull him to your lips again, a silent confirmation that you wanted to do this again too. You pulled away and let go of his tie just as the doors slid closed. You wouldn’t say you fell because only losers fall, but… it was sure something close to it.
(click here for part two!)
synopsis: turns out the most enigmatic and mysterious man is terrible at flirting.
authors note: there's nothing more inspiring than being consumed by a new fandom. also not entirely sure what this is but if you guys like it I'll write a part two...
wc: 3.1k
cw: spoilers for ep 11, hero x hero, angst, parental abuse, possibly ooc x (considering he hasn't even spoken a word in the show I did a bit of guessing on his personailty), fem reader, use of y/n
click here for my masterlist!
When you were just a kid your father took you to a competition for junior league heroes. It was a three day hell, or so you remembered.
You were excited about it at first but your excitement was trumped by your father’s need for you to win. Winning to him was more important than anything. A winner gets to eat. A winner gets to have fun. A winner gets things. A winner is a winner. Your father raised a winner.
You won the junior league heroes competition. You were handed the trophy and in your hands it felt light. Flashes of cameras blinded you as you held the trophy over your head, your arms sore, ribs bruised from the countless rounds of fights you endured. Just a kid. Kids shouldn’t know what the weight of a punch feels like. But you did. You knew the weight of a lot of things at a young age. And standing on this stage, the blows you endured weren’t worth the trophy you held. When you were ushered off stage countless grown ups congratulated you, patting your head and rustling your hair.
“Great job, kiddo!”
“You were great out there!”
“You’ll grow up to be a hero one day!”
“Did you forget how to smile?” Your father asked as he looked down at you frowning. “All my hard work training you got you that trophy and you can’t smile for the cameras?”
“I didn’t?” You asked as he reached and grabbed the trophy from your hands, looking it over. He ignored your question.
“Next year let's not struggle in the last match, I could tell you were tiring out.” He said, turning and fixing your hair, extending his hand for you to take. You took it.
~
You won every competition after that. Year after year. But with every trophy there was a small part of you gone. The part that liked to read on free days away from training. That part that liked sweets and music and hanging with friends. You didn’t have time. You woke up, you trained, you strategized, you ate, you trained, you showered, you slept. And rinse and repeat. There was no you anymore. Just the public persona your father curated.
He started his own Hero association when you were only sixteen and your birthday present was the honor of being his first client. He marketed you to perfection. Everyone loved a winner. Which was precisely the name he chose for you. Winner. You tried to fight back, tried to at least have the autonomy of your own hero name but you were sorely reminded that he made you. He trained you. And for that… you owed him. That you were being a self brat and he didn’t have to provide you with any sort of help. That he could turn you out of his association, that no one would sign a spoiled brat like you. After he wore you down you didn’t care about the name anymore. Nor did you care about anything else. Winner it was.
A lot of decisions were out of your hands. You guest appearances on talk shows, and various commercials. Staged villain fights and the occasional crisis actor in need of help.
Well here’s Winner! She takes it all!
A stupid slogan you’d come to hate. On countless t-shirts. Your hand cramped as you signed countless posters. Your father spoke angrily into his phone, he’d been talking to another agency for the past hour, trying to strike a deal. Or a partnership. Winner works with Queen, Bot you and Queen had been duking it out on the leaderboards for some time and although you had never met her in person most of the public would rather see you two working together. There was a campaign with over fifty thousand signatures. Fifty thousand people wanted you two to simply interview each other. Your father had thought it was a waste of time and decided fifty thousand signatures weren’t enough. He wanted as much money as Queen’s agency could offer. In the end your father turned them down, stating you needed to be practicing for the upcoming tournament and not playing interviewer.
So that’s what you did. You worked yourself half to death.
~
The day of the hero tournament came like it did every two years. You weren’t able to compete in the last tournament seeing as you sent yourself to the hospital hours before. Your father had pushed you past your limits and you almost died of exhaustion mingled with dehydration. You’d never forget how pale your skin was when you woke up in that bright hospital room. Your dad had never been more disappointed in you. This time around you made sure to drink a lot before exhausting yourself.
The first couple rounds were a breeze. The top hero this year was a woman named Bowa. The top hero. You and Queen had both been vying for that position.
“Winner… you listening?” Your father asked as your eyes fixed on the tv screen. Queen was walking out to challenge her next opponent. You wondered if she watched you like you watched her.
“Hm?” You hummed as the camera panned to a man you didn’t recognize, white slicked back hair. The tv flickered off. You sucked in a breath, turning. Your father stood with the remote, then calmly placed it on the table. But you could tell he was anything but calm, you’d never known a day in your life where he wasn’t angry. You straightened in your seat, your costume uncomfortably crinkling.
“Do you need some motivation?” He asked, sitting on the couch across from you. You swallowed, unsure of what to say. “Winning this tournament is the highest of priorities, Winner.” He hadn’t called you by your actual name in… well… years. Maybe ever since he’d thought of your hero name. A part of you longed to hear it. Longed to hear who you were and not who you were made to be. Manufactured to be. You always introduced yourself by your real name but rarely anyone actually called you by it. Kids excited to meet Winner didn’t care about Y/N. Teenagers waiting in three hour long lines just for your attention didn’t care about Y/N. There was a man at the vending machine that you offered your last quarter to that smiled when you introduced yourself, then said, I know who you are, Winner. Sometimes it felt as if that side of you died. That you really were just…Winner now.
“Yes… I know.” You said, your voice small. Your father closed his eyes.
“Sometimes I don’t think you truly… truly understand.” He said slowly, steeping his eyes with his fingers. As though you were exhausting him. “There’s only so much coaching I can do. Only so much help I can provide you. Without me… you’d be useless. You know this.”
“I know.” You responded soullessly. He opened his eyes back up, his eyes scanned your face. He didn’t like your tone. He sat up, eyes peering into yours.
“This is your last chance to prove to me you are what I made you to be.” There was a beat of silence before the door to your dressing room was knocked on.
“Miss? You’re on in five.” The voice called from beyond. You furrowed your brows. You were on? But didn’t Queen’s match just start? You grabbed at the remote, flicking the tv back on. Queen was on her back, her crown askew on her head as the text at the bottom reads; A Hero Ranking Dark Horse Appears! Queen had lost? In mere seconds? “Miss?” The PA called from outside the door. You startled, blankly staring at the screen as a picture of your face flashed onto the screen side by side with the newcomer who’s name apparently hadn’t even been registered.
“What’re you waiting for?” Your father growled as you swallowed dryly, turning and heading towards the door. “Winner,” He called after you. You stopped, hand paused on the knob.
“Hm?” You hoped for good luck. You wished for him to say something nice, something encouraging.
“Don’t bother coming home if you lose.”
“But Mom-’
“Mom agrees. You know she does.” He says, turning away, facing the tv. And you knew he was right. Knew as you numbly followed you PA to the main stadium, passing a lethargic Queen on the way. You tried to meet her eyes but they were glued to the floor. She didn’t look roughed up but you supposed that wasn’t exactly a good thing.
~
The platform rose as sunlight blinded you, fresh air filling your lungs. You stepped off the platform, dirt dusting up around you as the stadium filled with the cheers of hundreds of thousands of voices. Practically deafening if it wasn’t for the forcefield lining the entirety of the battleground. This was the second to last match. Whoever won here went on to face Bowa but for some reason… you had no hope.
“And here’s Winner! She takes the stage, the spotlight loves her!” The announcer's voice boomed through the stadium, practically shaking the walls. At the mention of your name your fans sounded off, you almost shielded your ears at the sound of their screams. They set you on edge. “And her opponent who barely made it into the top ten before the ranking matches, a dark horse passerby. His name has yet to be registered into the HAC Hero roster. X!” Out walked a man, the same one from before. His white hair was slicked back, he wore a tailor suit and gold glasses. His left hand was comfortably in his pocket as he stepped off the platform, his right hand flicking a coin into the air. You stared. Queen lost to this man? In mere seconds… You swallowed.
Don’t bother coming home if you lose.
You weren’t going to lose. You couldn’t. You were a winner afterall. X walked lackadaisical across the dirt. The closer he got the better you could see the grin in his lips. All your other opponents had kept their distance but this man continued across the field and once close enough, offered his hand to you. He was tall, at least a head taller than you. His eyes are dark brown and sharp like a cats behind his gold glasses. You stared, eyes on his before they fluttered down to his hand. The crowd erupts.
“X has offered his hand to Winner in a show of good sportsmanship!” The announcer croons. You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. It’s a show alright. This man didn’t look battle ready, he didn’t look bloodthirsty nor nervous like every other opponent. He seemed entirely at ease. Not wanting to seem like a poor sport you reached out and grasped his hand, it enveloped yours completely, warm and large as a smirk fit to his lips. Suddenly he pulled you by the hand a step closer, leaning down to speak into your ear. Not for the camera’s to see, just for you.
“My money’s on you.” He says, voice resonant and fox-like. You pulled away, your hand still grasped in his. His eyes devoured your reaction. Your heart stuttered behind your ribcage as you slid your hand from his grasp and stepped back. That smirk didn’t leave his lips, in fact it only grew bolder under your gaze. As though your attention was his sustenance. You outstretched your hand and your weapon materialized in your palm, growing to the same height as you, the blade curling like a reaper's scythe. X watched all of this with a sort of rapt fascination and you had this strange feeling that he was enjoying this. Enjoying which part exactly you weren’t entirely sure. “You know,” He started, his coin almost materializing in his right hand as he flipped it around his fingers with ease, it looked like magic the way it slid around his knuckles. “I always wondered who named you?” You couldn’t help your reaction as your eyes cut to his. “Your hero name.” He supplied. You swallowed, forcing yourself into a poker face.
“Not to your liking?” You asked, slowly twirling your weapon. He watched you closely, eyes lingering on your hands for a moment.
“I like it well enough. Just curious if you do too.”
“It’s my hero name.” You said dryly. A tone you knew would get you in trouble if you were speaking to your father. But X only smirked a little larger.
“That’s not an answer.”
“I don’t owe you an answer.” You took a swing at him but he sidestepped it with ease, the whoosh of your scythe slicing through the air.
“Winner takes a swing at opponent X, a swing and a miss!” The announcer boomed, the crowd’s collective gasps filled the air. You turned, maneuvering your weapon back towards the back of his head but he just stepped out of the way again.
“I get this feeling you aren’t much of a talker.” X goaded as your blood pressure spikes and you take another swing. A swing and a miss as the announcer had said before.
“I don’t usually talk during fights!” You hissed, jutting out the butt of your weapon in hopes of catching him off guard but he’s not where he was a second ago.
“Why not? It keeps things interesting.” He says from behind you, startling you. You gasp, stumbling forwards a step, yanking your weapon up and swinging sideways. He turns his head and the blade slices off a single hair. The white strand turns black as it flutters to the dirt below. He looks at you and cocks his head as though maybe you had surprised him, that same smirk he was wearing before comes back in fullforce. He liked this back and forth. That much was apparent. He’d beaten Queen in mere seconds but you two had been dancing around on another for at least a couple of minutes. Well it was more along the lines of him stepping aside as your blows kissed the air around him. Frustratingly so. You got the feeling that he was just playing around with you. Like a lion watching a mouse bite at its paw. What damage could the mouse even cause?
“Another swing and a miss from Winner!” The announcer crooned. His voice cuts through your calm as you send your scythe careening towards the speaker. It splintered the metal piece, awarding you with just the slightest bit of satisfaction as you stuck your hand out and your weapon came spinning back to your palm like two attracting magnets. X had watched all of this with a sort of glint in his eyes. You sucked in a breath, slowly breathing it out before unleashing as many blows as you could. X ducked and bobbed and weaved and side stepped as many as he could, which happened to be them all. It drove you up a wall, all this effort and you couldn’t even touch him. The closest you had gotten was a single strand of his hair. You turned it up, your blows faster and heavier. X noticed the shirt and when you thought you had caught him by surprise his hand reached up and stopped your weapon mid air. The air in the stadium seemed to stand still, every single pair of eyes and lips held in rapture. Your weapon was easily over a hundred pounds. No mere man could just stop it with one hand… and make it look all that easy. The blade stood mere centimeters from his face, close enough to kiss his cheek and bloom blood to the surface.
“Do you really… truly want to be top hero?” He asked suddenly. You didn’t notice your breath being held in your chest. You shoved him back, pulling down your scythe, kissing the side of his face, a small thin line of blood forming on his cheek. He smiled at that, stepping back. “Cause I think someone wants it more than you.”
“You?” You growled, and X just smiled, he dodged your blow and moved in close. Close enough to kiss.
“Whoever forced you to be a hero.” His breath ghosted on your cheek. Your eyes sparked, lips parting in surprise. Who did he… You lost your footing as X forced you to the ground with ease. It was clear to you right then and there that he’d only been playing around. Letting you attack him. He pinned you beneath his weight, your hand pinned beneath his knee.
“You could’ve won if your heart was in it.” You pushed at him but he was like a boulder of strength atop you. He looked over your face once more. Drinking in your anger. You had stopped struggling at this point. It was pointless. He let go and everyone in the stadium cheered as he was declared the victor. He extended a hand to you and watched as you spitefully turned away and rose to your own feet. It was over. Everything is over now.
“Announcing your winner, the new top hero… X!” The voice was louder than ever, ringing through your bones, boiling your blood. Your weapon dematerialized as the platform you rode in on lowers. You step towards it to leave.
“Come to dinner with me.” X called out the almost deafening chants in the crowd. You were shocked enough into stopping, turning again back towards him. Your eyes narrowed. He just grinned at you. “I know a good place.” You couldn’t even conceive this moment. Nothing felt real. You were the best... He mocked you and now he was asking to go out for dinner?
“Was this your strategy?” You called back, eyes full of malice and annoyance. He didn’t mind.
“Which part?”
“The talking.” You hissed. X shook his head.
“On the contrary, you’re the only hero I wanted to talk to, Y/n.” X smirked, flipping the quarter around his fingers. “I’m a big fan.”
Hiiii, I’ve stumbled upon your gojo fics and I loved it all. Your writing is awesome! I also read your fyodor ones and let me tell you, it is the reason why I am on a fyodor brainrot at the moment. Sending love! ❤️❤️❤️
I appreciate this so much ❤️❤️ my fyodor fics r a special fav of mine :)) sending love back 2 ya!
how they are when they're in love... part two, ft. mitsuri, shinobu, & obanai
an: hello. boy oh boy. i think this turned out well and yes i still suck at deadlines (im a week ish late). anyways! hope you enjoy this anon! this is for u :)
request: "Omg your latest fic was so good! Can I request the same prompt but with the rest of the Hashira, especially the girls? 💗"
cw: hurt comfort, fem reader, not proofread
wc: 3.1k
Mitsuri is so overly obvious with her feelings. You two got along just fine during Hashira training. You kept your distance though, something about her unbridled happiness unsettled you. There wasn’t much for you to smile about with the impending battle against the demons.
So you trained hard and just when you were about to collapse you’d train even harder. Until you were gasping for air possibly on the brink of death by exhaustion. You dug your hands into the dirt, sweat dripping down your face. You swear you could taste your own blood. You didn’t even hear her approach.
“Pushing yourself past exhaustion will never make you stronger.” Her voice was sweet, worried even. You clenched your teeth as you caught your breath.
“I’m fine.” Two words that sounded horrifically stupid coming from you, who was currently on your knees tasting blood. Mitsuri walked closer, you heard her feet press into the dirt as she bent to her knees, eyes leveling with yours yet you didn’t meet hers.
“You strain yourself. Run yourself thin. You oversleep. You under eat. And these are all just things you’ve done this past week.”
“I appreciate the concern, Ms. Kanroji.” You didn’t appreciate it. You weren’t really hardwired to let someone in when you were struggling. You thought that made you strong.
“I think, as your superior, I'm going to have to forbid you from training for this week.” Your eyes snapped to hers.
“What?” You barked, eyes wide.
“Come on,” she offered you a hand. “On your feet.” You looked at her hand. Disrespecting a Hashira would get you nowhere. If you want to get better and be useful to the Hashira when the time comes you shouldn’t challenge their authority. You kept the sigh to yourself as you slid your hand into hers and let her pull you to your feet with surprising strength. You swayed slightly and Mitsuri only held on tighter. “I don’t want to upset you but I won’t let you work yourself to death.” She reached out, swiping your hair away from your face. It made your heart flutter embarrassingly in your chest. You pointedly decided to ignore that. “You’ll be by my side this week instead.” She says.
“Doing what?”
It turned out Mitsuri’s idea of a punishment was to feed you four times a day, constantly ask about your personal life and braid your hair before bed. So far you have trained under three Hashira’s. They didn’t care a lick about your training night and day in fact they encouraged it. But Mitsuri seemed personally offended when you asked for an hour of actual training. You were actually dying a little inside. So late one night, rainy pouring down providing you cover, you slipped out into the night, katana in hand. You swung until your arms ached. Until you couldn’t feel your skin from the freezing cold rain. When you headed back your heart dropped to your feet. Mitsuri was waiting for you on the steps of your cabin.
“Ms. Kanroji,” you greeted, guilty and embarrassed at being caught. “I’m… sorry-“
“Come inside,” she directs. You follow. She helps you peel off your drenched kimono and wrings out your hair all while not saying a word. It was honestly… terrifying. You directly disobeyed her and you don’t think you’d ever heard her as quiet before. “Let me run you a warm bath, you need to warm up.” She says, disappearing down the hall. You called after her but she ignored you. You let your eyes fall closed. All you worked for? Would it all be gone in the blink of an eye because of your need to drive yourself past your limits? When Mitsuri appeared back in the hall you reached for her hand but stopped short of touching her.
“Ms. Kanroji… please um— let me apologize.” You watched her eyes follow your hand that reached for her. You wondered if she was angry, if she’d punish you.
“Your hand…” She trailed off, she reached for you, grabbing your hand gently and inspecting the blisters and bruises. You blushed to your toes. Her hand was soft, not a callous to be seen. It made no sense, she was a damn hashira after all. “You swing your sword with hate in your heart. You swing your sword with no regard to yourself.” She says, eyes snapping up to yours. You probably looked like a deer in headlights. “I’ve always noticed that about you. You are incredibly driven with zero regard for your own safety. You strike me as someone who will fight and not care about the damage you do to yourself.”
“If I can kill a demon and save a life, then it’s worth it, don’t you think?” You ask. Her eyes go hard but her gentle grip on your hand stays.
“Don’t you want to be around when all is said and done? Because I want you to.” You were at a loss for words. Your hair still wet from the rain, dripping on the floor around you. Standing in your warm cabin, Mitsuri a step away you realized you’d never stop and thought about what you wanted when all was done. You genuinely had never given it a single thought. All you wanted was to kill demons.
“That doesn’t seem… possible.” You say. Mitsuri takes a step closer.
“To you. You… forgive me… you can be very bleak sometimes.” You reach, pushing your hair out of your face.
“Not everyone can afford to think like you.” You say and when her hand cups your face you suck in a breath.
“Maybe not. But you can.” She says and suddenly you understand her protectiveness. You understand her stepping in and forcing you to take care of yourself. Your entire body stiffens, lips parting in surprise. What had you done to attract something like this?
“Can I?” You echo and Mitsuri’s entire face softens, the pad of her thumb gliding against your cheek. You’d never had someone look out for you like Mitsuri had. Never had someone force you to take care of yourself. Something tightened at the notion that you could let this moment pass you by. You’d let it happen before. You wouldn’t do that shit again. You stepped forwards and pulled the love Hashira to you, pressing your cold lips to her warm ones.
~
Shinobu’s love is quiet. You wouldn’t even know it’s there if you didn’t look hard enough. And if you didn’t try hard enough because she seems jovial and loving but… she’s not really. There's an undercurrent of hurt and cutting mistrustfulness. She’ll laugh at your jokes but she doesn’t actually find them funny. She’ll smile when you smile but it doesn’t reach her eyes. You’d never met someone like her. Someone who puts themselves out there but seemingly hates every second of it.
After a mission gone south you were saved by one of the Hashira and toted back to the butterfly mansion. There you were informed that you’d be taken off the line of duty due to the severity of your injury. Any further damage could leave you unable to walk. This whole situation felt like the world finally giving up on you. All your cheeriness is gone in days. You were irrevocably changed the day you wrapped up your sword. Out of sight, out of mind you thought but… no… it stayed on the forefront of your mind. A failure. That’s what you were. A failure. You failed your mission, your team, yourself.
At dawn on your fifth day at the mansion you packed up your things and toted them to the front door. The girls, mostly Aoi, were against you leaving so soon but to be honest with yourself the longer you stayed the more you felt disheartened. You thanked the girls for their help and slung your bag over your shoulders, pushing out into the dawn. The chill permeating through you. You got as far as the gate before you heard her voice.
“Leaving so soon?” Her voice asked sweetly, but when you looked over at her, there was nothing sweet about her. Her lips pursed, arms crossed, body rigid.
“I’m feeling much better.” You say, unable to meet her eyes.
“The color to your face hasn’t returned and you’ve already worked up a sweat walking from the front door to the gate.” You reach up, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand, sighing softly.
“Miss Kocho, it’s time for me to go. I’m sure you understand my meaning.” You say, pulling on the strap of your bag. Shinobu cocks her head, her brows rising. “Take care of yourself.”You say, finally meeting her eyes. The sadness in them gave you pause. You stopped mid-step, heart in your throat.
“When will you visit again?” She asked, voice clipped. You sucked in a silent breath, throat dry. You’d never really been able to read her before but right now, her face, the tone of her voice… it felt as though she was very unhappy. You parted your lips to speak but nothing rose to your lips. You didn’t know the next time you’d visit. You swallowed and wetted your lips.
“I’m not… sure. But… write me. I'll visit again sometime.” You answer, trying for the cheery nature you used to possess but really your words came out hollow.
“Write you?” Shinobu echoed and you nodded your head.
“My crow… I tried sending him back but I don’t think that stubborn thing will leave my side for sometime. You can write me and he will retrieve it for me.” You explained, fiddling with your fingers.
“I don’t… want to write you.” All the air left your body. Your eyes snapped up to hers. Damage control. You nodded your head.
“Of course Miss Kocho, you’re busy. I understand.”
“That’s not my meaning.”
“What is… what is your meaning?” You ask.
“I’d prefer you to stay. Get some color in your face before trekking miles home.” Her voice was sweet, melodic but you couldn’t shake the uneasiness. Couldn’t shake the feeling she was barely riding a thin line to anger.
“Miss?”
“Hm?”
“Are you angry with me?” You asked. Shinobu’s eyes snapped to yours. It was her turn to look slightly unsettled by your words.
“I’m not angry.” She said. You sat your bags on the dirt.
“I… I implore you. If you have something to say to me. Something… important. Please say it. I’m not a part of the corp anymore. I’m finished. I’m heading home. This… is the moment to say it. If you have something to say, that is.” You said and you didn’t look away from her, no matter how red your cheeks got. Shinobu’s expression opened up with each word you spoke and the sadness in her eyes was finally apparent.
“We have a place for you here. You still have use in the corp.” she said and you shook your head.
“Talk to me as an equal. Not a Hashira to a demon slayer.” You implored. Shinobu clenched her jaw and she was quiet for quite some time.
“You’re bold.” She says and you swallow.
“I apologize. I… I only want to…” you weren’t sure exactly what you wanted at this moment but then you steeled your face and spoke. “I know you hide your true feelings. I wanted to give you the space to… be free in them. If that’s what you want.”
“You speak as though you already know them.” She said sharply, unkindly. You nodded your head.
“Then I am wrong. I apologize.” You say, leaning to grab your bag again but Shinobu steps closer, foot on the strap of your bag. You swallowed nervously, have you pissed her off? You raise back up, reluctantly meeting her eyes.
“If I asked you to stay would you?”
“I have no use here.”
“I didn’t ask if you’d stay in the corp.” she says and your mouth goes dry. “With me. If I asked you to stay with me… would you?” Her words didn’t have the underlying anger they used to always have. Instead there was a sort of… desperation in her voice. You stared at her… openly surprised.
“With you?” You echoed and Shinobu stepped off your strap, nodding her head. “What… exactly does that mean to you?”
“I’m sure you understand my meaning.” She says, just as you had. You… stepped closer. Eye to eye. Her eyes… softening. Your lips fighting a smile.
“I’ll stay. If that’s what you want.”
“Is that what you want?” She asks and you reach for her face, your cold hand sliding over her cold cheek.
“Yes… that’s what I wa-“ she surged forwards, lips eagerly seeking yours. You could finally read her. Could finally tell she was hurting at the thought of never seeing you again. You could tell from the way she kissed you. So desperate and almost feverish, hands tightening their grip on your clothes, pulling you hard and flush against her. Almost as though this was her first and only opportunity to have you. You let her kiss you hard, let her play out her anxiety and you stayed. You’d never leave.
~
Obanai’s love is hidden. You wouldn’t even know it’s there until you push his buttons. Which is exactly what happened when you were toted alongside him on a very important mission. Of course things went south and when you were caught up in the battle, injured beyond belief, Obanai took control. You’d never seen a Hashira go full out but… he didn’t even look human. He killed every single demon in the worst way possible. None of them had an easy death. And the demon that hurt you? Well… he saved that one for last.
After he carried you back to the butterfly mansion he did not leave your side but he also did not utter a single word to you. He was pissed. You knew he was pissed. The rigid way he sat and ate and slept. You’d tried many times to coax him out of his reverie but he was far beyond pissed.
He had a good reason after all. He had told you not to leave his side, that you could get hurt. So you stupidly left his side and got hurt. It was your first mission and you felt useless just standing by so you wanted to help. Unfortunately you only made things worse.
“Mr. Obanai? Please accept my apology.” You started for the fourth night in a row. He didn’t even look up from his plate. “Or not accept my apology. Do as you please just please speak to me.” You pleaded, voice soft and sad. “I know you’re angry. But nothing can be solved if you just ignore me.” He set his fork down and reached for his drink. His fingers slender as they slide around his cup, bringing the now lukewarm tea to his lips. You watched him. Frustrated and confused. A moment passed then a minute. He went back to eating. You huffed, pushing your tray off your lap and sliding out of bed. The moment your feet touched the floor you gasped as Obanai stepped in your way. So fast.
“You can’t walk.” Ah. So he could speak to you.
“I can. I feel fine.” You said, defiant eyes looking up at him. His eyes staring savagely down at yours. It was like he was trying to intimidate you to lay back down without explicitly telling you.
“No. You’re staying in bed.”
“I cannot stand another minute cooped up in here with you. I am losing my mind.” You argued, your voice steady as you planted your hands on the bed, trying to push yourself to your feet. Obanai placed both of his hands on your shoulders, pressing you back down on the bed. You stared up at him as his hands slid from your shoulders to cup your cheeks. You blushed. You couldn’t help it. Stomach dropping as he stared down at you.
“You never listen. So impossible.” He sighs, still holding you so softly. You stared up at him, breath hitching as his thumbs swiped softly across your cheeks.
“Mister-“
“Hush.” He cut in. “Just be quiet.” Your lips parted, surprised. His words held no harshness. He just… he sounded tired. “You proved to me that I couldn’t trust you out there. You got yourself hurt.”
“I was trying to help-“
“I know full well what you meant to do.” Silence for a beat. His hands still held you softly. “That doesn’t make it okay.”
“But-“
“There was absolutely nothing okay with you getting hurt. It shouldn’t have happened.” He said and slowly sank to his knees in front of you, hands still on your cheeks. Now you looked down at him. “I can’t forget how limp you felt in my arms. I can’t wipe that out of my memory.” Your lips parted, throat dry as you swallowed, clearing your throat slightly.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are. But that… can never… ever happen again. Do you hear me?”
“Yes.” You breathe out, nodding.
“I’ve never been… good at articulating. You always say what’s on your mind so I wanted to… do the same.”
“I really am sorry.”
“I know.” He says and you gaze down at him, heart in your throat. His right hand slides up your face, tucking your hair back out of your face. Thumb gently sliding over the bandage on your temple.
“Does this mean… you’ll stop ignoring me?” You ask, voice just barely over a whisper. He doesn’t answer you for a beat so you lean down and steal a quick kiss. When you pull back his eyes are slightly wide as they gaze up at you. “I wanted to thank you… for saving my life.”
“Is that… always how you thank people?” He asks and you swear you can see a slight blush to his cheeks.
“No.” You say simply. When he pulls you to him there’s nothing quick about his kiss.
who fell first and who fell harder..? ft. giyu, obanai, mitsuri, tengen, rengoku, sanemi, & hotaru
an: wow! two posts in one day? enjoy!
cw: none!
wc: 1k
You fell first, Giyu fell harder. Giyu has a lot going on in his mind. He’s distracted when he first meets you. He’s cold to you. He sets you off. You tell him off. Now he sees you. Someone he never wants to look away from ever again.
~
Obanai fell first and harder. He’s got a thing for out going girls. Your care for him reels him in. Your continuous love and support sends him over the moon.
-
Mitsuri fell first, you fell harder. Mitsuri’s blushes were commonplace when you’d speak with her at Hashira meetings. You thought it was nothing special. That was until she kissed you. After that you were the one blushing.
~
Tengen fell first and harder. Tengen loves women. He loves loudly and often. He finds you. Down on your luck, like an animal backed into the corner. He’s got a thing for violent girls. He falls fast. When he sees bits of softness in you he knows he’s done for.
~
Rengoku fell first, you fell harder. He loved your fighting style. Loved your quiet laughs. He fell in an instant. He kissed you hard and you about crumpled to your knees. He loves you loudly and proudly. It makes your heart hurt.
~
You fell first, Sanemi fell harder. Sanemi is loud. He’s arrogant. You’re not entire sure what drew you to him until he saves you one day during a demon attack. The way he grabbed you, made you his number one priority? Boy oh boy. When you showed him the same loyalty he almost cried. He’s always needed someone he can trust to not die on him.
~
Hotaru fell first, you fell harder. He scared the holy hell outta you. He thought he was being witty with his flirting. When it clicked that he was flirting with you and he calmed down his decisive touches and hard working hands had you undone. He’ll work to the bone just to give you peace of mind.
how they are when they’re in love… ft. rengoku, tengen, sanemi, giyu, & haganezuka
an: welllllll hellloooo. i apologize for the wait! thanks for the request :) this was so fun to write :) pls enjoy!
request: "hi, i love your writing so much, your characterization is seriously on point <3 can i request kny x hashira reader about how they’d be like when they’d have romantic feelings for the reader? tysm if you choose to do this but it’s understandable if not <3"
cw: fem reader
wc: 6.7k
It’s the little things. Rengoku isn’t stubborn. He doesn’t hide things and he’s not ashamed. He realizes quite early on that there is something about you. Something that draws his eye. You’re not someone flashy or boisterous. You’re just someone that makes his mind wander. He likes your smile, he’s told you so. He likes when you blush, something so rare because you are so seemingly serious to most. He likes your sword style and the way you fight. He likes your voice and how if he catches you late at night your voice has a softer edge to it because you’re tired. He likes making you laugh and buying you food. He likes that you eat just about as much as him and doesn't seem to mind his loud voice. So sure, all of those things could easily tell him that he’s in love with you but… but it was just one single thing that solidified it all in his mind.
Rengoku had a cold father. He had a warm mother and a kind little brother. He liked his family but part of him was… hesitant to start his own. His father never warmed to him. No matter what he did. He didn’t know if that was something he’d turn into. And he really didn’t want to take a chance. But… then he met you. And suddenly taking that chance seemed inevitable. Being with you seemed to weigh on his mind night and night again. He used to love winding down for the night until he met you, a cold demon slayer. Now he laid awake and thought of you. His father was cold and sometimes… you reminded him of him. Your coldness didn’t seem malicious but… it was still there. Still a gentle reminder that he needed more time to know you. His only glaring spiraling thought being; would you always be cold or would you warm to him?
“Lost in thought?” You interrupted his spiraling. He swallowed and smiled softly over at you.
“A bit.” He answered cheerfully but his smile faltered as you stared at him intently. That stare felt as though you could see straight into his soul, cutting through all the barriers and barricades he’s built.
“You’re not eating. That’s troubling.” You pointed out.
“I’m fine.” He lied with a smile, reaching for his chopsticks. Your eyes tracked his hands movement and he found himself blushing at how closely you were observing him.
“Is it the mission?” You asked, picking up and taking a sip of your warm green tea. Rengoku shook his head.
“I didn’t mean to worry you. Really I’m fine.”
“So it’s not the mission.” You concluded, crossing your arms over your chest in thought. He stared at you for a moment and you stared back. “Tell me what it is.” You said and although he’s heard you demand things of others before this was no demand. It was a gentle question with a soft tone.
There was a table between you two, a crowded restaurant with talking patrons but suddenly the room just felt empty, you being the only person his eyes wanted to see. He couldn’t just up and say he was thinking about you because it just wouldn’t come out right. He parted his lips to speak but nothing substantial crossed his mind. You observed all of it.
“Never mind. Tell me when you’re ready.” You said just as softly, and when he met your eyes there was no ounce of coldness in them. He felt warm all over. Nothing he’d ever felt before. He couldn’t believe he had ever for a single moment thought you were anything like his father. You chose your words wisely, no you didn’t smile much but that made your smiles that much more meaningful when he had to work for them.
”I’m in love with you.” Rengoku said without a second thought. Your hand paused, eyes stuck on the plate in front of you.
“Hm?” You asked, as though you hadn’t heard him loud and clear. Slowly your eyes rose to meet him. Those five words were written all over his face, his soft gaze, the slight smile on his lips. You blushed almost immediately.
”I’m in love with you.” Rengoku affirmed, no shyness. Your lips parted in silent surprise.
”Oh.” You said, unable to properly digest his words at this very moment. “You are?”
”I am.” He nodded his head, leaning back in his chair. You purse your lips, embarrassed. Rengoku didn’t push the subject, he paid for the meal and when you both stood he wrapped a shawl around you and you followed him out the door into the stinging winter morning.
You trailed behind him a few steps, walking in the indents of the snow he left. Rengoku stood out in the snow, like a sore thumb with his bright hair and fire eyes. He stood out everywhere. You reached out, barely grabbing the back of his cloak. He paused, barely turning, eyes holding that same soft gaze. There were a lot of things you weren’t sure of. Your place in the demon slayer corp for one, you standing with your peers, how this next mission was going to go. But there was one thing you were clear on.
“I love you too.” You said softly, snow falling around you two. Rengoku turned more, snow crunching underfoot. You could barely meet his eyes, blushing profusely, hoping he’d think it was from the cold. He reached for you, hand sliding around your hip, barely tugging you a step closer. He kissed you then, leaning into your space and meeting your lips with a gentle press of his own. He pulled back long enough to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Come on, let's get you somewhere warm.”
~
Tengen was quick to fall for you. He is not embarrassed or abashed by what he feels for you. He loves loudly. It was like the cliff was in sight and then suddenly he was toppling over it with reckless abandon. It's not like you paid him any extra attention. He was a lot and you were shy, you tried your hardest to dodge him if you were being honest. But he found you. He always found you. And more importantly he saw you. Saw through the shy, curt expressions you wore.
This time he found you at the butterfly mansion. He was recuperating from a recent mission when you were brought in, bloody and bruised. He could barely walk but he came to your bedside the first two nights. Or so you were told, you had been out for those two days. When you woke up the first day one of the girls changing your bandages told you about him staying with you and being forced away from your side.
The next morning you woke up and Tengen was dead asleep in the chair next to your bed. The sight was… something. He was a Hashira and you were a slayer. He was always put together when you’d see him but… he was disheveled, his white hair a mess from sleep, his face serene. It was… it took your breath away. Something about his vulnerability and sudden softness made your heart quicken in your chest.
You pushed up in your bed, it groaned gently under your weight and you paused as Tengen stirred. He moved just a bit before settling right back down. You pushed out of the bed after a moment. You’d overstayed your welcome at the mansion, you felt fine enough to travel and there was something… intimate about Tengen wasting so much time by your side when he should be focused on himself.
Gathering your things up you moved quietly through the room, you slung your bag over your shoulder and reached for the door.
“Leaving so soon?” His voice was smooth and rich from sleep. Your hand paused. Hoping in vain that you had heard things but then you heard him pushing up in the chair he was slouched in. You cleared your throat.
“I was assigned a new mission.”
“I’ll accompany you.” He says and you spin around, shaking your head.
“No need. You’re recovering.”
“And so are you.” He says, pushing to his feet and stretching like a giant animal. You purse your lips as he yawns.
“I’m fine. You’re a hashira, you shouldn’t waste time on low level missions.” You say as Tengen raises a brow.
“Low level?” He echoes, looking slightly amused. You nodded your head doubling down on your statement. He smiled at you, laughing slightly. He looked… entirely too handsome like this. You looked away, blushing. “Regardless of mission difficulty I’d still like to accompany you.” You swallowed, the room was small. Tengen’s hair was down, mussed a bit from sleep. Cheek still a bit red where he had fallen asleep leaning against his hand. You could barely look at him, your heart pounding in your chest.
“I’m sure you have more pressing things to do.” You offered and Tengen just brushed away your attempt with a wave of his hand. He walked towards the door where you stood and reached, brushing past you to pull open the door. He invaded your space, large and not entirely imposing. You felt startlingly comfortable this close to him yet at the same time your heart was in your mouth impeding your speech.
“Give me ten minutes to clean up. Don’t leave without me, little slayer.” He smirked, brushing past you to disappear down the hallway.
“Wait,” You called after him and he paused. You stood awkwardly halfway in the hallway and halfway in your room, the cold air of the hallway brushing against your flushed skin. He cocked his head at you. You bit your lip, leaning against the door jamb before sighing.
“I don’t… have a mission. I was just… trying to slip out.” You explained feeling guilty and a bit silly. Tengen didn’t look surprised, rather he just looked amused. He nodded his head.
“Is that so?” He asked, slowly walking towards you in the dim light of the hallway. You watched him approach, heat churning through you.
“Mister Uzui-”
“Oh, that’s nice.” He smirks at your attempt at professionalism.
“I’m sorry for lying.” You blushed as Tengen actually laughed.
“I forgive you.” Tengen drawled as he approached you. You watched with bated breath as he reached and tucked your hair back out of your face.
“Mister-”
“You can call me Tengen.” He cut in softly, his hand lingering on your cheek.
“Tengen…” You cooed and that was the moment. Like a twig snapping in the forest. Quick and precise. There is not a single other person in this world he’d rather hear his name spoken by. His eyes dropped to your mouth. Your lips moved but he hadn’t heard a word you said.
“I’m sorry,” He murmured. “I can’t focus.”
“Hm?”
“I’m going to kiss you.” He said sort of like a warning. You blushed to your bone and couldn’t find it in yourself to pretend you hadn’t been wanting that. You nodded your head and parted your lips to answer but Tengen ducked his head, lips cutting off your barely formed sentence.
~
Sanemi’s love is consuming, it's possessive. He watched you from afar, eyes drinking in your every little movement. He watched you dive forwards, practice sword in hand as you evaded a clever strike from your opponent. You launched, foot forwards as you sent the boy sprawling backwards on the ground, dust kicking up around him. Sanemi set up, he couldn’t hide the smirk that stretched across his lips as you swung your sword forwards and pointed it at the boy.
Ruthlessness. That's something Sanemi didn’t see much. Your swordplay was exact and left no room for imagination. He could see you becoming a Hashira in no time.
The boy raised his hands in mock surrender and you reached a free hand out, pulling him to his feet. Sanemi’s eyes narrowed. The boy said something and the smile and laugh that sprung from you had Sanemi’s stomach in knots. He clapped his hands together in an instant.
“Training’s done. Leave my sight.” He called out to the group of you. “Except you. You stay.” He pointed to you. The smile died on your face as your sparring partner patted your shoulder as he walked by, good luck he mouthed before jogging to catch up with the other slayers. You swallowed dryly as you heard Sanemi approach you. You steeled your expression and turned.
“Do you think at the end of a fight with a demon you can extend your hand to them and yank them to their feet?” Sanemi asked as you furrowed your brows.
“Uh- um… no…” you answered confusedly. Sanemi stared hard at you for a moment.
“Um no? You sounded unsure.”
“No.” You answered, more sure this time.
“The point of sparring and winning isn’t to give up when your opponent raises their hands, it’s to have them tap out in submission.” Sanemi chided as you nodded your head. He didn’t like the playing around after the match it seemed.
“I understand.”
“So what was so funny?” Sanemi asked as you blinked slowly.
“Hm?”
“What was so funny? After your spat. What could that idiot possibly say to make you laugh?” You stared at him for a long… long moment. Not only could you not remember what your partner had said but also… Why did Sanemi seem to care so much? You shifted slightly, twirling your practice sword in the dirt.
“I’ll be better next time.” You said, hoping that would appease this strange attitude Sanemi was sporting. Sanemi looked you over for a minute.
“Has anyone asked you to be their tsuguko?”
“Yes, Mr. Shinazugawa.” You nodded your head and Sanemi moved a step closer.
“Ah. Is that so?” He asks, reaching up to run a hand through his unruly white hair.
“Just a few offers.”
“Who offered?”
“Um… Ms. Kanroji, Mr. Tengen, Mr. Rengoku, and Mr. Tomioka.” You name off, with each name Sanemi’s face gets a bit redder. You clear your throat. “T-that’s all.”
“Be my Tsuguko.” He says, his eyes connect with yours. You swallow. Out of all the Hashira… Sanemi was the only one you were wanting to train under. It was purely out of admiration and definitely not for anything… else.
“Is— is that a serious offer?” You asked, eyes lighting up. Sanemi nodded his head and you couldn’t help the smile that took over your whole face. “I accept.” You said graciously. Sanemi turned away.
“Good. We start in the morning.” He said over his shoulder. You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you.
“Yes, Mr. Shinazugawa.”
“Sanemi.” He said and your lips parted, brows furrowing softly.
“Hm?”
“You don’t have to be so formal, we’re the same age.” He says before walking off. You watched him go, smile stuck to your lips.
Two months passed and Sanemi was a ruthless teacher. He ran you ragged everyday, but you could feel yourself improving. You could feel the power in your swing’s strengthening. You knew you made a good choice training under him. You kept your rampant feelings at bay in favor of professionalism but… it was hard. You felt guilty for having these feelings and so you decided to tell Sanemi you were going to become someone else’s tsuguko.
On Sanemi’s end there was something stirring. A sort of thorn in his side. He was… incredibly… stupidly… in love with you. He’d thought he’d just been fascinated with you at first and yeah… he is fascinated with you. But it’s much more than fascination at this point. Spending day and night, trading you up he could see why the other slayers would gather around you like a flock. He could see the appeal in telling stupid jokes just to see a smile. Ever since he’d asked you to be his tsuguko and you smiled at him he’d been chasing that high ever fucking since. It was addicting. Your smile, your laugh, your voice and smell and the way you fought it was all being captured and cataloged in his mind.
Even now as he swung his sword to meet yours his eyes swept over your face, full of concentration, his heart swayed unevenly in his chest. He stepped back.
“That’s good enough for tonight, good defense.” He commented as you breathed heavily.
“Thank you.” You said almost breathless, walking over to place your practice sword with the others.
“Wait,” Sanemi called after you. You passed, turning.
“Yes?” You asked. Sanemi looked at you, he turned, gathering his thoughts.
“You’ve… improved incredibly.” He says, scratching the back of his head. He wasn’t looking at you as he said it and for some reason you needed him to. You walked a bit closer, stepping in his eyeline.
“You’re a good teacher.”
“You’re a quick learner.”
“I.. don’t know about that.” You laughed slightly. He stepped closer, he never licked when you talked down about yourself and he wasn’t going to change that about himself now.
“You are. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“I didn’t…” you cleared your throat. “I know that. Would you… give me some more truths?”
“Hm?” Sanemi hummed and met your eyes.
“Mr. Shina- er… Sanemi…” you steeled yourself. “At the… risk of making things awkward… I can’t really keep things… at bay much longer.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m… in love with you. It’s… affecting my ability to be… ya know… professional.” You stumbled. Sanemi watched you, you watched his lips barely part in surprise and decided to prattle on. “You are under no obligation to say anything to me. I already spoke with Ms. Kanroji and she said she’ll take me off your hands-“
“Off my hands?” Sanemi echoed, taking a step closer to you.
“She’ll take me in as he tsuguko so you don’t have to deal with me and my… feelings.” You stumbled, red faced and embarrassed. You couldn't see his eyes anymore.
“You… you think I’d just kick you to the curb?” Sanemi asks as your eyes snap up to him.
“Well, I-“
“I don’t want anyone to take you off my hands. I want to keep you.” Sanemi declared. You were speechless. Sanemi reached for your hand. His hand was rough and scared but he held yours with gentleness. He brought it to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your knuckles. You watched this whole scene unfold… totally enraptured by this side of Sanemi. “Stay. I couldn’t stand to lose you.”
“Sanemi…”
“I love you. Stay.”
~
Giyu’s love is peaceful, it’s quiet, it’s soft blushes and special moments. You hated him. You had to hate him. You had to. Because anything else would be unacceptable. It would be a complete betrayal to yourself. To the you that first met the unpleasant Mr. Tomioka. The you with wide unburdened eyes. The you that ran deliveries for your family, in your small town. Completely unaware of the dangers and… complete unfairness of the world.
Mr. Tomioka came to your town. He was short with you, he didn’t talk much and had these… soulless eyes. The whole town talked about him. Apparently he was something called a Hashira. That’s what your aunt told you, apparently she’d gotten a few more words out of him then most. He was in town to investigate a few of the disappearances. You didn’t see much of the need for him here considering the three ladies that disappeared left notes. A lady at the local cafe you were delivering to had told you the girls had each run off with a guy they each met a town over. You were quick to believe because one of the girls had drunkenly told you two nights before her disappearance that she had met someone. Called him dark and handsome. She prattled on for a bit about him and seemed excited to see him again.
“You spoke with her?” Mr. Tomioka asked you. He’d asked to have a few words with you about the girls after a day or so of him in town. You were… less inclined to speak with him because he had rubbed you the wrong way when he first arrived. Though this was no time for pride.
“Yes, she was at the local bar. She was drunk and talked about a man she met.”
“When was this?” He asked, those soulless eyes on you as you fiddled with your hands.
“Two days before she left.”
“Before she left? You don’t think she disappeared?”
“I don’t… I don’t know. I guess I think she’s just with that guy.” You explained. Mr. Tomioka squinted his eyes at you, his face unchanging.
“Her parents are very worried about her. They say she’d never up and leave.” He explains as you purse your lips. You were going to argue with that. Her parents knew her better than anyone. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”
“Mhm… well… she said the man she was going to meet lived in a town over.”
“All of the ladies missing have told their friends and families the same thing. They’re meeting a guy a town over. Only they’re not seen again.” Mr. Tomioka explains. You sit up slightly.
“Really?”
“Don’t gossip about this. This stays between us. I mean it.”
“I wouldn’t.” You declared sharply, slightly offended he would insinuate that you’d run your mouth about this. You were a listener. Not a talker, things said to you always remained a secret.
“Everyone else in this town foams at the mouth to spread things across town.”
“It’s a small town, Mr. Tomioka. People care for each other.” You grumbled, crossing your arms. “They like to be in the know so they can help when needed.”
“They’re nosy.” He argues. Your eyes sharpen, lips pouting slightly.
“They’re good people.” You pushed up from your seat. “Now if that’s all, Mr. Tomioka, I have work to get back to.”
“That’s not all.” He responded coldly. You stared at him, you didn’t sit back down. “There’s a link between the girls and I have a feeling you’ll be the next to disappear.”
“What?” You croaked. Mr. Tomioka didn’t convey any special feelings, he just reached for his tea and took a careful sip. He kept you waiting.
“The three women missing share various traits. Age, eye color, hair color, and body type. I believe a demon has an appetite for a specific type of woman.” Mr. Tomioka explained. You stared at him. You stared some more. You parted your lips to speak and then shut them. Did he just say… demon?
“I… believe I misunderstood. Do you mean demon as in evil?”
“I mean demon as in demon. I believe the creature is hunting pretty women like you and…” you zoned out. Demon? A creature? You couldn’t focus. You slowly sunk back into your chair. After a moment Mr. Tomioka noticed you not taking in his words. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is all a bit much for you.”
“Yes.” You nodded numbly.
“Miss, afford me your time. I believe you are in danger. Let me stick near you to keep you safe. I believe the demon will try something soon and I want to be there to intercept it.” He asks, leaning forwards.
“Whatever.” You waved him off. “I believe you are delusional but… I see no harm in humoring you at least till you figure out what happened to those girls.”
And stuck around Mr. Tomioka did. He walked you to and from work, assisted on your deliveries. As you slept he patrolled your cabin and watched out for your family. He ate with you at dinner and breakfast and lunch for at least a month and a half. Mr. Tomioka didn’t talk much and you tried getting anything out of him but he was all serious like. It was hard to get past that.
You had started to believe he was a mad man when suddenly you felt a cold hand around your wrist while you were walking to work. When you turned you saw the demon and then a flash of light as Mr. Tomioka’s sword arched and sliced the demon’s wrist into two. You stumbled back as Mr. Tomioka made quick work of the demon. His slice was clean and true and you watched, wide eyed and unblinking as the demon dusted to nothing. You could even muster a word, so utterly terrified and exhausted and completely at a loss. Mr. Tomioka sheathed his sword.
He was right. He was right about the creature about it coming for you. You fell to your knees. Mr. Tomioka was at your side in the blink of an eye.
“You hurt? I was quick to kill it, I thought.”
“Those girls?”
“Are resting easy now.” He says. Tears fill your eyes. You nod your head and look at the floor. You outlived those girls purely because of Mr. Tomioka. And you had been utterly and completely cold to him the moment he set foot in the town. Mr. Tomioka placed a careful hand on your back. “Can you stand?”
“Yes.” You answered shakily. Mr. Tomioka offered you a hand and you took it. His… his eyes didn’t look so soulless now. He held your cold hand in his warm hand. He didn’t let go. “Mr. Tomioka… Thank you. You… saved my life.”
“I’m glad you’re safe.” He answers you, his eyes connecting with yours. Your stomach dropped. A moment was shared. One where… you couldn’t believe for a moment you had despised this man.
The next morning you walked Mr. Tomioka to the train station. It was a quiet morning, dew stuck to the grass blades, a gentle fog rolled through the town. The train station was quiet, you two were the only ones there, even the train hadn’t arrived.
Giyu looked over at you. The way your dress swayed, the way you stayed directly beside him as you walked. Giyu… felt trouble the moment he arrived in this town and it wasn’t the demon lurking in the shadows. It was you. He felt it the moment he walked into your place of work and you smiled so brightly he had to look away. Talked so sweetly that he couldn't form a coherent thought. His words were clumsy and came out sharper than intended because he’d never been this nervous in front of a woman before. He’d saved you and still couldn’t manage to put to words the way you made him feel. He knew you’d come around on him. Knew he’d rubbed you the wrong way at first. But the warmth in your smile as you thanked him last night kept him from sleeping. And now he was leaving, a new mission in sight and three words dying to spring free from his lips.
“Quiet morning, it seems not many are leaving at this hour.” You observed as you stepped onto the train platform, Mr. Tomioka a step behind you.
“It’s nice.” He commented and you turned, smiling.
“It is.” The distant chugging of the train told you both that this little kinship you two had found with each other was coming to an end. “Oh! Mr. Tomioka… I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for us and for… saving me but I wanted to give you this as thanks.” Your hands brushed as you handed him over some homemade food for his train ride. He nodded in thanks as the train pulled into the station. He lingered for a moment, he looked down at the food. You watched him, glancing towards the train, passengers filtering off. “Mr. Tomioka? You’ll miss your train.”
“May I visit again?”
“Hm?” You responded almost immediately.
“May I… come and visit… again?”
The question lingered in the air for a moment. You blinked, lips parting.
“Of course. My family loves you. In fact the whole town has warmed to you. I’m sure they’d love to have you back again, no demon lingering this time.”
“And… What about you?”
“Me?” You echoed. He finally met your eyes. Your stomach dropped.
“Have you… warmed to me?”
“Ah.” You cleared your throat. You wouldn’t lie. Not now… it seemed important in this moment not to mince words. “Very much so, Mr. Tomioka.” There was a small stretch of silence between you two. He clearly had felt the effect of your words. “Mr. Tomioka?”
“Please… please call me Giyu.”
“Giyu…” you tried his name out… you liked it. “If it wasn’t incredibly selfish of me to ask, I'd ask you to stay.”
“If it wasn’t incredibly selfish of me I would.” He returns.
“So we’re… in agreement.” You say and watch the ever stoic Giyu Tomioka smile. It was a small, shy sort of smile but it was a smile nonetheless. You’d catalogue it. The train horn honked, signifying it was about to take off. Giyu stepped close, his hand gently hovering by your cheek.
“May I? As a goodbye?” He asks. He didn’t even need to. You nodded your head and he leaned into your space and pressed his lips to yours. Softly. His thumb caressed your cheek and he deepened the kiss, his free hand wrapping around your hip. He pulled back, hands still on your hip and cheek. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead.
“I’ll come back.” He promised and with that… he was gone.
~
Haganezuka’s love is confusing, confounding, a bit frightening… to everyone else that is.
Oh boy. You had… broken your first sword. The only piece you were about to recover laid pathetically in your hands. You shook with tears. It was just a sword. Why were you so worked up?
“That’s tough.” Mitsuri’s hand patted your back. “But a right of passage as a demon slayer.”
“You’ve done this?”
“Many times. Before I was a Hashira I broke at least ten of my swords.” She explains as you grip the piece in your hand. Turning to look at her. She’s smiling but then she cringes. “You’re going to have to request a new sword.”
“A new one?” You echo as she nods her head.
“We can travel to the swordsmith village together.” She smiles. “Do you remember the smith who made your sword?”
“Um. I believe it was Mr. Haganezuka.” You said and that smile dropped again.
“Mr. Haganezuka?” She echos. You nod your head. “Haganezuka? With the sunflower patterned haori? The wind chimes on his woven hat?”
“Yes, Ms. Kanroji.” You say, interest and eyebrows piqued. She blows out, running a stressed hand through her hair.
“You’re absolutely sure? You spoke with him before? You know his… nature?”
“His nature? I only saw him in passing. Mr.Urokodaki spoke with him.” You sigh slightly. “Is something the matter?”
“Yes. This… I was hoping it’d be a relaxing trip for you after our mission. But… well…” She pats your head. “Get packed, we’ll leave for the village in the morning.”
“Um, alright.” You said cautiously. You watch Mitsuri pout slightly as she pushes to her feet and trudges back towards her room.
The trek to the village took about three days. When you arrived you were surprised to see so many swordsmiths bustling around. Mitsuri had explained to you that Mr. Haganezuka was a character. She said he was intense and to disregard his actions. To say the least she had you nervous as you trekked up the path to his house. Mitsuri had taken off to the hot springs the moment you two stepped into the village and stated for you to meet her. That after talking to Mr. Haganezuka you were going to need some time to relax.
You sucked in a breath, hand reaching up as you rapped your knuckles against his workshop. It was deathly silent since he lived a bit sways from the village. You could hear the distant bustling but not much else. The door creaked open and the first thing you saw was the mask. You sucked in a breath, eyes wide.
“Yes?” His voice was muffled behind the mask. You stared, lips parted. You had fought demons but this scene had your heart on edge. His workshop was dark, he towered over you, looking down at you through the crack in the door.
“M-Mr. Haganezuka?” You asked, voice shaky. He nodded. “I’m… a d-demon slayer. You… made me a sword.” You explained. He didn’t answer, just stared down at you. You wished you could see his expression, you read people well and behind a mask he was a mystery to you. “I was Urokodaki’s student.” You tried again. Again he just started. You instinctively stepped back and reached for your bag. You pulled out your broken sword and presented it to him. His head moved as he looked at the broken sword then moved again as he met your eyes.
“Ah. I remember you.” Was all he said as you swallowed dryly.
“I— I appreciated the s-word you made me. It… it was a great help. Unfortunately… I— b-broke it. I’m… still t-training and I was careless and uhm— and foolish.” You explained, you were unable to meet his eyes anymore. Your eyes glued to the broken sword in your hands. “I am terribly… terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”
“Not an inconvenience.” He said, and pulled the door open slightly. His workshop wasn’t as dark as you thought as you caught a glimpse of a fire churning in the hearth. You parted your lips, surprised by his words. “You’re alive. The sword fulfilled its purpose.” At that you finally raised your eyes just as he reached out, hand brushing yours as he grabbed the shattered remains. “Come back in three days. I’ll give you a new sword.”
“Really?” You asked softly. Haganezuka nods his head. “Well I appreciate-” The door clicks as he shuts it right in your face. Oh.
Three days later you visit again. This time with Mitsuri in tow. She would not believe your story of how your first interaction with Mr. Haganezuka went. She claimed he put her in a headlock the first time she broke her sword. She said he chased her till sunrise another time. Mr. Haganezuka seemed… apathetic to you.
You knocked on the door. No answer. You glanced at Mitsuri and she reached out and knocked. Nothing.
“Mr. Haganezuka?” You called through the door. You raised your hand again and this time the door cracked open. You jumped, startled as the man pulled open the door. You're not sure how you could tell because of the mask but something was wrong with Mr. Haganezuka. He leaned against the door heavily.
“Come in. I’ll fetch your sword.” He says as Mitsuri shoots you a confused look. You follow him as he walks laboriously through his workshop.
“Mr. Haganezuka?” You ask, he tilts his head slightly. “Are you alright?”
“Your sword took me night and day to forge.” He says as he walks you into the main room, Mitsuri close behind
“Day and night?” You echo. “Did you sleep? Eat?” You ask as Mitsuri warningly grabs your arm.
“Here it is.” Mr. Haganezuka presents the sword to you. Your eyes widen. It was… different from your last sword. The hilt was a beautiful shade of maroon with intricate carvings.
“Wow… this is… magnificent.” You were at a loss for words to describe it. Mitsuri sucked in a breath behind you, eyes bulging at the sight.
“It will suit you well.” He says, leaning on his work table.
“How much do I owe you, sir?”
“No.”
“N-no?” You echo. He just shakes his head.
“Make sure to treat it well.” Mitsuri says.
“I rather hope it treats her well.” He says, sliding into the seat.
“Mr. Haganezuka, as a thanks please allow me to treat you to something to eat.” You step closer to him. Mitsuri grabs your arm but you don’t let her deter you.
“Mr. Haganezuka is a busy man-“
“Alright.” He says to your surprise.
You whipped him up something and Mitsuri took her leave. You laid the food out for him and grabbed your sword.
“I’ll be taking my leave now.”
“You may stay. If you like.”
“I figured you wouldn’t want company… that you’d want privacy-“ he reached up and undid the tie to his mask, letting it drop in his hands. You blushed. It was an instant reaction, one you couldn’t hide. He was… handsome. Very handsome. With dark hair and dark eyes. But also he looked exhausted, dark circles beneath his eyes.
“I don’t mind your company, slayer.” He says and you swallow dryly.
“I’ll stay then.” You say and sit across from him, he pushes some of the food your way. “You eat. You need it more.” You say but he doesn’t pull the plate back. You sigh, and grab some food.
You spent a month in the village, recuperating from your prior mission, training with Mitsuri and occasionally seeking out Mr. Haganezuka. He was gentle, and kind. Mitsuri was unsettled when she saw how he treated you. Maybe unsettled isn’t the right word… more intrigued. She said she had never seen him act that way with anyone. Not even Rengoku. And everyone liked Rengoku. But you liked Mr. Haganezuka. He was an incredibly hard worker, almost working himself to the bone. He was diligent, he was… handsome. You’d never seen a man like him before.
On your last night you packed up your things. Mitsuri had headed out earlier that morning and you were to meet her later in the week. You tossed your bag over your shoulder and pulled open your door. You traced the same path back to Mr. Haganzuka’s and as you arrived Mr. Haganezuka was already pulling open the door.
“I cooked.”
“You did?” You ask, a smile forming on your lips. He hadn’t worn his mask since the first time you two met. He nodded his head and you followed him inside, setting your bags by the door. “I just wanted to stop by to say goodbye but I guess I can eat before going.” He stops, turning slightly, eyes intense.
“Hm? You’re leaving?”
“Yes, sir.” You nod your head. “Ms. Kanroji and I have a new mission a few towns over.”
“Ah.” He says, he turns away, still paused. You watch him from behind, blinking.
“Mr. Haganezuka?”
“Food’s getting cold, come on.” He says, walking towards the kitchen. You follow excitedly. The dinner was quiet, a little too quiet for your liking. You cleared your throat, glancing at the time.
“Well. Mr. Haganezuka-”
“Hotaru.” He says, not looking up from his plate. “Please call me Hotaru.”
“Hotaru… I should be taking my leave. Thank you kindly for dinner and… and your company this month. As well as my sword.” You name off, grateful, a soft smile on your face. Hotaru meets your eyes for a second before looking away quickly.
“You’re… very welcome.”
He walks you to the door as you bend to grab your bags.
“Must you leave so late?”
“I have a train to catch.” You say with a smile.
“Do you have… train fare?” He asks as you tilt your head.
“Hm?” You ask as Hotaru grabs some money, handing it to you. “Oh… Oh I can't accept this-”
“And it’s cold out. Don’t you have a scarf?” He asks, bustling out of your view again and reappearing, wrapping a scarf around your neck gently. You blush when his hands inadvertently brush your cheeks and again when he untucks your hair from beneath the scarf.
“Hotaru?”
“Ah! Let me pack you some food for the train and-- and some breakfast-” You catch his arm as he turns. He pauses, eyes darting to your hand.
“I’ll come and visit.” You say. He meets your eyes slowly.
“Please do.” He says softly. There’s a quiet, almost tension filled moment as his hand slides over yours, his thumb gently stroking the top of your hand before pulling it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Break your sword as many times as you like.”
synopsis: you're against love, deemed the mean one of the school but someone seems to think differently...
authors note: this was such a blast to write. getting the creative juices flowing. I'll attribute that to imogen heap and the fact i listened to the walk by imogen probably fifty times while writing this. anyways this is the final part in my little soccer trio series. i hope you all enjoy!
wc: 5.2k
cw: angst, fem reader, not proofread
click here for my masterlist!
You had a nickname in school. You’d heard it a few times from your friend's boyfriend, a few times in passing, maybe once or twice at a soccer game. The mean one. The mean friend. The mean girl. Mean. Sure… most people might’ve thought an assertive woman was a mean woman. But… to be honest… You were a bit mean. You had to be. For the longest time you’d been ignored. Your parents in and out of the house on work trips. They were busy people. Too busy for their mean little daughter. Not that they caused it or anything by practically treating you like a specter. You never wanted things to be like that at school. You never wanted to be walked all over and ignored. You were tired of feeling like a ghost. So when something was wrong, or your feelings were hurt you didn’t bottle them up like you did back at home. So sure… maybe your words came out a bit sharper than anticipated. Coupled with the fact that a scowl fits better on your face than a smile.
To be honest it didn’t really bother you much. The people closest to you knew your heart.
What did bother you was a loud mouthed know-it-all ball kicker named Isagi Yoichi that would not or simply could not leave you alone. It was like he was addicted to raising your blood pressure. Addicted to hearing you huff and call him names. Genuinely you were starting to wonder if there was something really truly wrong with him. But also… you didn’t like to think about him too much so you chalked it up to him being an idiot with a death wish.
“It’s just… you talk about him so passionately. One has to wonder.” Your friend cut in the middle of your Isagi rant. You stopped dead in your tracks, your friend bumping into you. You thought she was a safe person to talk to about him since all your other friends banned you from complaining about him. You turned, a possibly manic look in your eyes as your friend stepped back, amused fear on her face as she bumped into Nagi. He’d been walking silently behind your friend, blushing.They’d gotten together last week and had been inseparable since. To your dismay. You didn’t believe in love, let alone ever felt the feelings associated with crushing on someone. You weren’t sure you were even capable of that. So sure you and your pessimistic self probably weren't the best to be around right now for your friend who was practically glowing.
“It’s true, Y/n.” Nagi yawned, throwing an arm around your friend. “One has to wonder.”
“Who the hell asked you, sloth?” You hissed, eyes sharp as Nagi pouted. Your friend gave you a look, ruffling Nagi’s hair.
“Be nice. And if Isagi bugs you so much, stop talking to him.”
“He talks to me!” You threw your hands up dramatically. “He seeks me out!”
“He likes you.” Nagi adds as your eyes cut to his like daggers. He froze under your stare. “Or not?” He shrugged as you gathered yourself.
“You’re no help.” You pointed at your friend as she blushed, giggling.
“And you called me dramatic!” She called after you as you halfheartedly waved to her as you walked to your car. You spotted the devil himself pulling his soccer bag out of the back of his car. Your guys' assigned parking spots just happened to be directly next to each other so no matter what you had to see him at least twice a day. And then sometimes you had to go to his practices for student council purposes, to make sure the club was running smoothly and what not.
You fished your key’s from your bag as you approached your car, clicking the button to unlock your doors. Isagi straightened at the sound, glancing over his shoulder as his eyes landed on you. You paid him no mind as you neared your car.
“Headed home?” He asked casually. You didn’t answer. Just pulled your trunk open and tossed your backpack inside. “Thought you were coming to practice?” He asked.
“I was there yesterday.” You argued then silently cursed yourself for answering.
“You were?” Isagi questioned, tilting his head to the side, black hair falling over his forehead.
“Yes.” You answered shortly, slamming your trunk shut.
“Must’ve missed you.” He said, gently shutting his own trunk, his eyes glued to your every movement. You met his eyes and wrinkled your brows at him.
“What?” You huffed. A crooked smile fitted to his lips as he leisurely leaned against his trunk.
“You come to the practices but never the actual games.”
“Why would I come to the games?” You ask as Isagi raises his brows.
“To see me in action.” He says as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You stared at him for a long moment.
“Why the fuck would I wanna watch you in action?” You ask sharply as Isagi just laughs. There’s this thing about Isagi. No matter how annoyed or short you got with him it was like water off a duck's back. He never returned your anger, never bickered with you or huffed.
“Don’t you wanna see hard work pay off?”
“Your hardwork?” You ask as he nods his head and at that you shake your head. “Nope.”
“Come to a game.” Isagi asks as you shake your head.
“No thanks.”
“Y/n… come on. Just one?”
“No.” You replied exasperatedly walking around towards the driver seat of your car as Isagi pushes off his car, following you.
“I’ll owe you.” He throws out as you pull your car door open.
“What?”
“I’ll owe you. Whatever you want in exchange for you coming to one of my games.”
“Why the hell does it matter to you so much?” You hiss, turning around. Isagi looks at a loss for words for a moment.
“One game. That’s all I’m asking for.” He asks and there is this hopeful look in his eyes. You’d never been more confused in your life than this moment. Why did it matter to him if you came?
“Did someone put you up to this?” You ask incredibly suspicious. Isagi shakes his head.
“No.”
“No?” You echo, your eyes insatiable as they dance across his face, trying and failing to read his expression.
“No one put me up to anything.”
“Why ask me? We’re not friends. I don’t like you.”
“You don’t like me?” Isagi asks, a small knowing smirk on his lips.
“Isagi,” You cautioned as he scoffed out a laugh.
“It’s just one game. It won’t kill you. Plus I know your friend will be there, supporting Nagi.” Isagi points out as you scrunch up your face.
“I don’t get you.”
“You don’t need to.” Isagi shrugs. “Just one game.”
“Will you leave me alone for the rest of the school year if I go and watch you lose?” You ask sort of offhandedly with an exasperated sigh. You found yourself giving in. Isagi looks at you, there’s a strange expression on his face for a moment.
“You want that?” He asks and his voice is almost softlike, almost… hurt? But his expression changed in an instant and you wondered if you’d even heard him right in the first place. He laughed a breathy laugh, cocking his head to the side. “If that’s what you want then sure.” He sounded amused but he wasn’t meeting your eyes.
“Fine. One game.” You say cautiously, your face in a confused scowl.
“I’ll see you Friday night then.” He smirks, pushing off your car, tossing his soccer bag back over his shoulder. You watched him go, watching his wave down Nagi as they stalked off towards the field.
What the fuck just happened?
~
Friday came quickly. The week passed in a blur of cramming for tests and a whirlwind of student council projects. You barely had any time to think about your parking lot moment with Isagi. Him bargaining for you to come to one game. As your friend brushed and fixed her hair your mind wandered. It had tried to wander many times this week but you were able to block it out. Now that it was friday and barely half an hour before the game you couldn’t block it out anymore. You started thinking about Isagi. His motives. Did he want to embarrass you?
Haha look who showed up to the game just cause I asked her!
Although you had a seemingly one sided dislike of the boy he was never outwardly cruel to you. In fact… you had always been the one starting things. You just… had a hard time believing someone would want to talk to you so goddamn much without a secret motive. As you pondered all this your friend pinched you. You yelped, rubbing your arm as she smirked at you.
“Why the sudden interest in coming to a game?” She asks as you shoot her a sharp look.
“There’s no interest, I’m just coming with you.” You shrugged. There was absolutely no way you were going to tell her about Isagi asking and you actually agreeing.
“Right… So,” She turns you. “Did you hear about Rin and that new girl?” You couldn’t care less but you just shook your head as she rambled on about Rin Itoshi dating some girl who just moved to town a few months ago.
“Jealous?” You asked as your friend shook her head and smiled softly, a dreamy look in her eyes. She had Nagi, there was nothing for her to be jealous about.
“Y/N?”
“Hm?” You hummed as you pulled your unruly hair back out of your face.
“Do you like anyone in school?” She asked, walking behind you and helping you braid your hair back out of your face. You scoffed a laugh and she tugged your hair slightly. “Don’t be like that. It’s not as embarrassing as you think it is.” She scolds you as you pout slightly. It was embarrassing. Saying you liked someone felt like a peak into your brain you just weren’t comfortable with letting happen. That and… you didn’t have a crush to mention anyways.
“I don’t like anyone.” You say after a moment. “I’m the mean one remember.” You tease. Your friend must’ve heard something in your tone as she walks around to face you.
“You aren’t mean. Did Nagi call you that recently? I told him to stop that shit.” She says protectively as you roll your eyes with a laugh.
“He hasn’t.” You amend. “But they all think so. And what do I care? That just means people will leave me be.”
“No one wants to be left alone all the time.” Your friend says, booping your nose, a small thing that has you cheering up a bit.
“I have friends. I have you. I’m good.” You wave her off, pushing to your feet.
“That’s right, you have me.” She smirks. “Who cares about some ’know-it-all ball kicker’ you're obviously going to the game to watch.”
“You ruined a perfectly good moment.” You blush, pushing past her. “I’m not even dignifying that with a response.”
The game was just about starting by the time you and your friends arrived. You sat near the side of the field. You had watched plenty of practices. Watched drills and scrimmages and you never really considered yourself a sports person.
That’s because you’d never been to an actual live game.
“Come on! A fucking yellow flag!” You hissed, tossing your popcorn in anger. Your friend beside you looked at you with a mixture of horror and amusement. You ignored her. This other team was clearly getting special treatment from the referees. Every single thing the boys did seemed to earn them a flag. It was frustrating.
“They’re winning… by like a lot.” Your friend points out as you give her a sharp look.
“So what? Doesn’t change the fact that these refs are idiots!” You yell as a ref on the field turns, pouting. Your friend calls out sorry to him as you give him the death stare.
“You’re way into this-”
“Hush,” You wave her off. Your eyes glued to Isagi as he sneaks up the side of the field, you watch him barely raise his head to Nagi who passes him the ball towards the left side of the goal. You grip your friend's arm hard as Isagi smashes the ball into the goal. You're on your feet in seconds as the crowd erupts in cheers, your poorly placed popcorn spilling onto the ground. You clap and cheer along with the crowd. They won 7-2. Your friend laughs hard at you, a knowing look in her eyes.
Later you follow your friend as she pulls you through the crowd, the only time she lets go is when she spots Nagi. You watch as she takes off in a run, Nagi catching her midrun, spinning her around as she congratulates him. You watch them for a moment, a part of you feels strange. You watch your friend smile, you watch Nagi blush. Their secret moments on the crowded field. You swallowed something down, a sadness over something you didn’t understand.
“I can’t believe it… you actually came.” A warm voice calls out to your right, you turn as Isagi pushes through the crowd over to you. His face is flushed from the game, hair pushed back off his forehead. He has this look on his face, a smile that makes your stomach twist.
“I’m upholding my end of the deal.” You say back to him as he smiles, a soft laugh escaping him. You cross your hands defensively as something bubbles within you. “That was… a good game.”
“Just good? You seemed pretty passionate in those stands.” He smirks. You blush suddenly. Ah, he heard that.
“Well… those refs were idiots. I stand by that.” You double down as he laughs again, fuller this time. He… had a nice laugh. A warm laugh that heated your insides. “And that final goal was… impressive. I guess.” You shrug, trying for nonchalant.
“You guess?” Isagi echos, a beaming smile on his lips, it almost makes you smile. Almost.
“Hey, Y/n!” Your friend calls out to you, you turn as she slams into you with a hug. “Nagi and I are gonna go get dinner. You can give her a ride home right, Isagi?” Your friend asks as you turn to her, brows furrowed, half formed curses on your lips.
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Isagi agrees easily.
“Hey! What-”
“Great!” Your friend interrupts. “Thanks Isagi. We’ll talk later, Y/n.” Your friend beams, running towards Nagi.
“What the hell! Hey!” You call after her but she’s in Nagi’s embrace as they walk off towards the parking lot. “Bitch!” Isagi scoffs a laugh at that as you turn to him.
“I don’t mind.” He says, his eyes easy on yours. What the hell! Your friend knew everything, knew you disliked this boy… most of the time. And she left you with him. Left you as his problem to deal with. What a traitor.
“Forget it. I don’t live too far. I can walk.” You wave off. You weren’t anyone’s problem. You’d gone to Isagi’s house before, for student council purposes, and taking you home would be out of his way.
“No.” Isagi shakes his head as he grabs his bag, tossing it over his shoulder. “It’s night time, Y/n, you can’t walk.”
“It’s out of your way though.” You point out and he gives you a look with a raised brow.
“So what?” He appealed.
“So… it’s a waste of gas.” You try to reason and he just laughs, shaking his head but when he goes to respond he’s interrupted. A girl from your class calls out to him. He turns as she beams up at him. You feel a twist in your gut at the interaction. She congratulates him on the win and blushes when he thanks her, a winning smile on his lips. The girl glances your direction, she blinks.
“Y/n? I didn’t know you’d be here.” She greets as you shrug.
“Me neither.” You say as she looks between you and Isagi before looking you up and down. She pouts at something when she looks back at Isagi and when you turn to look at him he’s looking at you, a strange almost… soft expression on his face. You look away instantly.
“Well… that last goal was something.” The girl directs the attention back to her as she reaches out, barely touching Isagi’s arm. “You’re really good at soccer, Isagi… you must practice a whole lot.” She bats her eyes and you're suddenly very aware that you don’t want to be a part of this conversation anymore. When she starts talking again you slowly slink away, weaving through the crowd back towards the parking lot, your knee jerk reaction winning.
You couldn’t stand there another moment. For some reason that girl infuriated you. For some reason you felt warm and red and annoyed. These were feelings you didn’t understand and that freaked you out. When it came to fight or flight this time you chose flight.
You passed the gate of the field and wrapped your arms closer to your body, shivering from the cold. You did not live close by whatsoever, it’d easily take you an hour to walk home. You supposed you could try and jog the whole way but who were you kidding, you read more than you moved. You pulled out your phone, looking through your contacts. Both your parents were out for the rest of the week. You couldn’t call your traitorous friend who caused all this in the first place and your other two friends you didn’t want to bother. You heaved a sigh. Walking it was…
“Y/n!” Isagi called, you heard his cleats slamming against the pavement as he searched for you. Embarrassment flooded your system and you were half tempted to duck and hide. But instead you stopped as he finally caught sight of you. A relieved sigh escaped his lips as he made his way to you, bobbing and weaving through the cars.
“You were seriously going to leave and walk home without saying anything?” He asked as you shrugged.
“You were… flirting so I thought i’d just-”
“Flirting?” Isagi echoes, shaking his head in a resolute way. “Not with her, no.” He leaves no room for discussion, no room for doubt in his steady tone.
“Oh I thought…” You trail off, clearing your throat, shivering from the cold. Isagi notices in an instant, pulling off his own jacket. He steps in your space, he’s taller than you, just barely. He throws the jacket over your shoulders, his hands still on the jacket as it’s on you. You two are close and when you tilt your head up your eyes meet his. There’s a spark of tension, it starts when he chances a touch. His hands just barely glide over your upper forearms, rubbing up and down to warm you. It ignites through you like a lit match, lighting you up from the point of contact all throughout your body. It makes you lightheaded and speechless, something you never were. You always had a quip, something to say, something to hide behind. But that spark, that fire had dismantled any coherent thought. It dulled your sharp tongue.
“Come on, it’s cold out.” Isagi persuades softly and only when he pulls away do you find your wits. You blink a few times. How the hell does a short lingering touch have you in such a way? You blamed it on your lack of romance, you reasoned in a short amount of time that lack of attention clearly had you starving for any bone thrown your way.
Yeah.
Yeah. That’s it. You reasoned.
You followed Isagi, paused as he tossed his bag in the trunk and blushed when he opened the passenger door for you.
“I can open my own door.” You said but your words lacked their usual bite.
“I know you can.” Isagi says. You slid inside and cringed at yourself. You wanted to smack yourself as your heart sped in your chest. You argue with this boy day after day but he gives you his jacket and suddenly you blush like a schoolgirl? You needed to get home quickly and also never speak to your friend ever again. Isagi jumps into the driver's seat, turning over his car as he fiddles with the heat. “Better?” He asks as you look at him sharply.
“It’s fine.” You answer curtly but if you sound annoyed he doesn’t pretend to notice. He smiles, putting the car in reverse as he backs out of the spot, one handed. You watch him and hate the fact that your eyes linger on his hands on the wheel. You tear your eyes away. What got you in this seat? Your friend left you… probably purposefully. You went to the game because Isagi asked? No, he made a deal… “I showed up to your game. Are you gonna hold up your side of the deal?” You asked. He promised not to talk to you the rest of the year and to be honest… you hoped he would because you felt something shift tonight. That strong feeling you claimed to feel for him for so long didn’t seem to fit anymore. That strong dislike was melting and the defensive measures built within you were reaching out pushing that wall back up with all its might. You couldn’t let him in. Your parents hated each other, they claimed it to be love. You had made a choice long ago that if that’s what love was then that’s not something you ever wanted to feel. Love was a sickness. You were lonely. It wasn’t going to be your cure. Some stupid boy wasn’t going to wreck you in one stupid night. This meant nothing. It couldn’t mean anything. As much as you didn’t want to be a ghost floating about life… you weren’t exactly ready to be seen like that.
“The deal, huh?” Isagi asks lightheartedly. “And what was that again?”
“You’ll leave me alone… for the rest of the year.” You answer, your eyes flicking to the side of his face. He’s amused, you can see it in the curve of his mouth. He drums his fingers on the wheel.
“Ah. That…” He trails off. “You know… I seem to recall a little clause in that deal.”
“Hm?”
“Well… when you made the deal you specifically said I’d have to stop talking with you if you came along and…”
“And?”
“Watch me lose.” He says, turning onto a main street. You furrowed your brows… that’s right… you did say that. Isagi stops at a red light, looking over at you. “Clearly… I didn’t lose.”
“That… that’s silly.” You shake your head, meeting his smirking look. “I just added that part to be a bitch, clearly.”
“Regardless of intention I don’t need to hold up my side of the deal, Y/n.”
“What? Y-you can’t just decide that! I came to the game and I stayed the whole time.” You argued back only half joking.
“Staying the entire time wasn’t a part of the deal. Now you're just adding things.” Isagi bantered as you huffed in your seat. All that prior spiraling out about love was put on hold, you had a bit of your mojo back.
“My choice words about losing was a caveat, a warning. That’s all. It wasn’t a part of the deal.”
“Ah… trying to use fancy words to confuse the jock, that’s below you.” Isagi jests, shaking his head as a bark of laughter escapes your lips.
“I defined the word in the same sentence, Isagi.” You refuted.
“I’m sorry, this is out of your hands, Y/n. I’ve decided not to uphold my end.”
“You’re a man without honor!” You groaned, slumping in your chair. Isagi glances over at you, your eyes meet for a second before he descends into that same warm laughter like before. You watch him unashamedly, feel that same warmth bloom inside you. You can’t look away, can’t look away from his soft jawline, his bobbing adam's apple. He meets your eyes again as he pulls into your driveway, all the lights in your house are out, your home like a haunted house on the hill, no warmth. Isagi looks out at it.
“Your parents' home?” He asks in the quiet of the car.
“They’re on work trips.” You answer, he rolls his eyes back to you. You feel the weight of his stare, feel the warmth again and again and wonder if it’s going to burn you and leave scars. Would he trace your scars? You flinched at that thought.
“When will they be back?”
“Next week sometime… I… I’m not actually sure.” You try for a lighthearted tone but your laugh falls flat as Isagi’s eyes search your face for answers you wouldn’t give willingly.
“Y/n?”
“Hm?” You hum and when you meet his eyes you suck in a breath at the intimateness of the moment.
“Do you… really dislike me? Because…” Isagi asks and you hold your breath.
“Because?” You prompt. Isagi turns a bit in his seat, to face you better.
“Nagi thinks you mean it. That you hate me. That I’m… ruining my chance.”
“Your chance?” You can’t help but echo the words and watch Isagi’s face flush like back on the field as he shifts slightly uncomfortable in his seat.
“Do I have one, Y/n? Or do you really hate me… It’s hard to tell sometimes.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You sigh, staring out at your empty house. “I know I can be mean.”
“You’re not mean, Y/n. I think you just don’t want too many people poking around your life.” Isagi points out and suddenly and dizzyingly you realize… maybe it’d be okay for Isagi to… poke around your life in his own words.
“Right,” You nod your head, tucking your hair back out of your face.
“So? Y/n do I have a chance with you? Because… I would really fucking like one.” A fierce blush spreads across your face at his words.
“Why? Why would you want that?” You ask, insecure and shaken.
“I like you. I like talking with you. I think you're incredibly smart and driven. You’re pretty… really really pretty. And scary too.” He laughs. “Most of the guys at school are terrified of you.”
“For good reason.” You reckon, voice shaky from his confession.
“I’m glad they stay away from you. I don’t want the competition.” He says and his words pull a laugh from you as you meet his eyes again.
“You don’t seem like the kind of guy to shy from a little competition.” You return as he shrugs.
“I said I didn’t want the competition, not that I’d shy away from you. When it comes to you I’d participate and I’d win. It’s what I do.” He smirks. You can’t help but roll your eyes.
“What an ego.” You sigh.
“You don’t have to answer me right now. Or ever if that’s what you decide.” He turns off the car. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.” You push open the door and he meets you around the front of his car. When you turn he stops you, a gentle hand on your forearm. You pause and he steps close to you, reaching. For a dizzying moment you think he’s going to make a move. But with a gentle hand he pulls the sides of his jacket that you're wearing together and he zips it up for you. You swallow dryly, eyes drifting shamelessly to his lips. You wanted him to kiss you. You want to kiss him. So damn badly. “My jacket looks good on you.” He smiles and you want to hit him because the flip your heart does is almost painful.
“You’re gonna freeze.” You reply.
“That’s a problem… What should I do?” He asks, a smirk on his lips. You meet his eyes. “Maybe you should share the warmth?” You think maybe you stopped breathing a while ago.
“Maybe you should take some.” You force out. He looks in your eyes, his eyes dipping to your lips, they stay there for a few seconds.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please.” You reply in an instant and in another instant he’s leaning into your space, invading it with permission. One of his hands is sliding around your hip, he’s tugging you a step closer. Your hands are useless at your sides. You’ve never been kissed before. You didn’t know what to do. But Isagi made up for the lack of experience. His fingers spread apart in the small of your back as his other hand reached and softly cupped your face. He slid the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip and licked his own. You sucked in a breath. This moment all hands and shared breaths. “I don't…. Know what to do with my hands.” You whisper in the small dwindling space between your lips. He pauses, a hair's breadth away from your lips and you almost regret talking and pausing the moment. But he pulls back just a bit and he guides your cold hands with his warm hands up towards his neck.
“Wrap your arms around me.” He speaks and his breath ghosts over your lips. Your arms wrap around his neck and he ducks down slightly, his hands slide over your hips as he doesn’t waste another second dipping his head and meeting your lips with his own. It’s a soft press at first. But that desperate hunger takes over and you're kissing as though he’d just arrived back from world war one. He’s pulling you impossibly closer; he's kissing you with a fervent need that makes you weak in the knees. He’s backing you up until the backs of your legs bump into his car and then he’s pulling you up and placing you on the hood of his car so the kiss isn’t interrupted for even a single moment. You shiver at the heightened moment, your skin hot beneath his warm jacket. “This means I have a chance, right?” He asks against your lips, eliciting a laugh as he kisses and kisses you again and again. “God… I have to get you inside.” He groans against your lips and you know he’s saying that because you're shivering from the cold. You miss the warmth of his kisses when he pulls back and pulls you from the hood of his car. “Come on.” He guides you to the front door. You fish your keys out and pause, turning back towards him.
“You have a chance. If that wasn’t completely obvious.” You say and Isagi’s serious face softens. His hands are on you again, he’s pulling you in and you decide if thoughts of love make you spiral you’ll let this be something else.
synopsis: nagi gives you terrible advice...
authors note: boy am I punctual. this series is so fun to write. i hope you all enjoy! I have one last part planned with isagi as the main li so... that will probably be out this weekend sometime :)
wc: 3.2k
cw: fluff, possibly ooc!nagi
click here for my masterlist!
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You’d been rotting in your bed for the past few hours. The embarrassing moment replaying over and over again. You pulled your pillow over your head and squeezed your eyes shut. You could kill Seishiro Nagi. Actually strangle him for the irreparable damage he has done to you.
There was a boy you liked in school. He was a grade above you. He was aloof and reserved, tall and handsome. You’d gone to a few of his soccer matches at school and when you’d watch him play your heart would soar through the roof of your mouth, an embarrassing display as your eyes lit up. You liked him a lot. And it just so happened that he played on the same team as a childhood friend, Nagi. You’d known Nagi for years… you played in the sandbox with him. He was your first kiss during hide and seek when you were eight. You had a crush on him for the longest time but… your feelings didn’t really seem reciprocated since he sort of treated you like a little sister. He lived two houses over and sometimes you would ride home with him and vice versa. You had a history, a long history. Nagi would help you… surely.
You clambered down to the field as the boys soccer team ran off. The boy you liked walked at a leisurely pace, he hadn’t even broken a sweat during the game. Your heart swooned just at the sight. You stepped in his path, hoping to introduce yourself when suddenly an arm slung around your shoulders, pulling you a bit off kilter. You fell into Nagi.
“Hey, take me home.” He yawns, practically hanging off of you. You watched the boy you like stroll by and huffed.
“Hey take me home please.” You corrected sharply as Nagi just laughed.
“Yeah, please.” He adds more as an appeasement than anything. You sighed, you missed your chance, again.
“Come on then.” You groaned and stalked off towards the parking lot, Nagi’s hot body still glued to yours. You pushed at him. “Come on, let go! You’re all sweaty.”
“Did you watch me play?” He asks, ignoring your words. “That final goal?” To be honest your eyes were glued to his teammate the entire time so…
“I missed it.” You said and felt the tall boy slump against you.
“Seriously? What’re you doing in those stands?” He asks, you weren’t going to answer that truthfully because it’s Nagi that’s been asking you to come to his games and if you told him you were distracted that would probably hurt his feelings.
“I’m sorry, you guys were crushing the other team so I went to get a pretzel.” You lie and luckily Nagi seems satiated by that.
“Didn’t save me any?” He teased, hand sliding in your coat pocket. You gasped, giggling as you smacked his hand away.
“No! I didn’t!”
“How inconsiderate.” He groaned, leaning on you so heavily he about took you both to the concrete.
“Nagi!” You barked, hand sliding around his hip to stabilize you both. “You’re like a horse sized sloth!” That made Nagi laugh slightly, holding up some of his own weight as he ruffled your hair.
“You owe me dinner.” He said as you fished out your car keys. You looked at him incredulously as he unlatched himself from you, walking off to the passenger side.
“I don’t owe you anything.” You barked.
“Don’t be a hassle. You missed my cool shot then rubbed your pretzel in my face.”
“I didn’t-“ you were cut off by Nagi slipping in and shutting the door to your car. You groaned as you yanked your door open. “You’re an ass.”
“And calling me names.” Nagi replies drowsily as he leans back in the seat, already closing his eyes.
“You’re impossible.” You huffed, turning on your car. Nagi was out by the time you turned out of the parking lot and slept soundly the short drive home. When you pulled into your driveway he perked up.
“Hey… what happened to getting food?” He asked, voice soft from sleep.
“Snooze you lose.” You say, flicking off your car. Nagi pouts as you get out of the car.
“Your mom home?” He asks as you roll your eyes.
“She’s not, so no poaching our dinner.”
“Your house has good snacks.” He points out, slipping out of your car following you to your front door.
“You’re like a parasite, latching onto me.” You huff but let him follow you inside anyways. After cooking some instant noodles you and Nagi sit on the couch, leisurely watching something he picked. Some game tournaments he found on YouTube.
“So… you’re teammate… Rin… does he have— someone?” You ask, trying to sound natural but failing as Nagi looks over at you with a strange face.
“Have someone?” He echoes, a sort of amused expression forming. You looked away instantly, blushing.
“I’m asking for a friend.” You say but the words sound silly even to your ears.
“A friend, huh? Which one? It’s not the mean one right? Cause I think Isagi’s got a thing for her-”
“Stop calling her the mean one. And she would be mean if she heard you say that.” You replied. “Now can you answer the question?”
“I don’t know. He barely talks.” Nagi answers, taking a large bite of his noodles, spilling a bit of the broth in his shirt. “Boring sort of guy.”
“He doesn’t seem boring.”
“Is that so?” Nagi prods and you catch yourself, blushing. “You know I’m starting to think I know this friend better than I thought.”
“Shut up.”
“Jeez, seriously?” Nagi sits up, setting his bowl on the coffee table. “Y/n…” he almost sounded disappointed.
“What!” You chirped, embarrassed.
“You’re not slick.” Nagi yawns.
“Okay… whatever… I’m the friend.” You shrug.
“Yeah, I know. But Itoshi? Really? Have you ever even spoken to him before?”
“No! You keep interjecting.” You groan. Nagi’s quiet for a moment as you look over at him. He runs a hand through his hair.
“You want my help?”
“…Yes.” You concede.
“Go all out. Put yourself out there. The dudes gloomy, he might like it.” Nagi sighs. You sit up slightly.
“You think so?” You ask as Nagi shrugs his shoulders. “Alright… thanks for the advice.”
~
Famous last words. Things did not go to plan whatsoever. You did as Nagi said. You went all out and in return you got hit with ‘who’re you?’. Probably top three most embarrassing moments of your life. The worst part of it was… Rin was right. You hadn’t talked to him much if at all. You built this fantasy up in your head and jumped at the smallest lifeboat Nagi had given you only for it to sink under your weight. Why the hell would someone as aloof and quiet as Rin Itoshi like a big show of affection? You felt like an idiot for even believing in Nagi.
“Okay… yeah it was embarrassing but seriously it’s fine, Y/n. Everyone will forget by Monday.” A friend of yours reassured you over the phone later that night, the mean one as Nagi had so lovingly called her.
“You didn’t see it, the silence in the hallway… god I won’t be able to sleep.”
“You’re dramatic.” Your friend huffed. “Look, you put yourself out there, how many people can say they did that?”
“I shouldn’t have done it at all! God I’m such an idiot. I bet Rin and Nagi are laughing it up as we speak. Especially Nagi, that Judas.” You hissed as your friend laughed.
“I don’t even think Rin Itoshi knows how to laugh. Besides, I'm not sure why you would listen to Nagi’s advice in the first place.”
“He’s a childhood friend! I thought he’d have my back.”
“Maybe he thought it would work.” You could hear the well restrained laughter in her tone. You sat up.
“You’ve seen Isagi today, right? Did he say anything?” You knew it was a stretch. Your friend and Isagi had a sort of… rocky relationship. One you really didn’t understand. Nagi assumed Isagi had a thing for your friend and although that could be true your friend felt very strong negative emotions towards him.
“Do you want me to hit you? The only reason I talk to that know-it-all ball kicker is for student council purposes.” She returned sharply. Yeah… it was a stretch.
“I’m not sure what you and Isagi do could be considered as talking but-“
“I mean it. I will hit you.”
“I believe you.” You smirked, glad you had called your friend because she had helped you cheer up at least a little bit. Your front doorbell chimed as you startled. Your mom was working late and it was too late for any of the neighbors. “Hey, I’ll call later.” You said, hanging up the phone. You tossed it on your bed and winded your way through the house towards the front door. All you could hear was the gentle pats of rain just outside the door. You peered through the peephole and sighed heavily as you spotted Nagi outside the door. He was the absolute last person you wanted to talk to right now. You turned, pressing your back to the door, closing your eyes as the events of today played in your mind again. It reignited that fire as you whipped around, yanking the door open. Nagi startled at the suddenness of the door.
“You absolute asshole!” You growled, reaching and yanking the tall boy into your house. Nagi was wet from the rain, his hair wet like a dogs as she slammed the door shut behind him.
“Jesus, what’s wrong?’ Nagi asked as you whirled on him.
“What’s wrong? What’s wrong!” You parroted as Nagi stared at you, blinking and confused. “You didn’t hear? I’m sure I was the laughing stock of school.”
“Didn’t hear what?” Nagi asked calmly, in fact his nonchalance had you seconds away from ripping the hair from his head.
“Your advice! It fucking sucked!” You hissed as Nagi raised a brow and pursed his lips in thought. He had no idea what you were talking about. “I’m surprised the boys on your team weren’t talking about it.” You threw up your hands in defeat.
“Most of the guys skipped today because of the weather. I stayed for a bit but got sick of listening to Isagi flirt with that mean friend of yours.” Nagi groaned, pushing past you as he stripped off his jacket, kicking off his shoes.
“What’re you doing?” You asked incredulously. “You aren’t welcome here!”
“Did you make anything for dinner?” Nagi asked over his shoulder, ignoring you as he walked towards the kitchen.
“Seishiro Nagi.” You growled, that stopped him in his tracks. He looked back with a stricken look on his face.
“Geez, what’s wrong?” He asked, you slowly approached him with a strained smile.
“The advice you gave me about Rin was shit. I put myself out there and he turned me down.”
“I could’ve told you that.” Nagi shrugged. You grabbed the front of his shirt.
“I have had it up to here with you. Please get the fuck out.” You hissed, seething with anger. Nagi stared at you for a moment, it was possible he was deciding if you were actually angry or messing with him but when you didn’t crack a smile he finally understood the seriousness. He reached up and placed a gentle, warm hand over yours.
“Sorry. I thought you were-... What happened? I didn’t hear anything at school.” He explained calmly. You yanked your hand out of his.
“It’s like I said! You gave me shit advice and I completely embarrassed myself in front of most of the school, Nagi. It was humiliating.” You fumed, cheeks blushing at the memory of it.
“So he turned you down, so what?”
“So what?” You echoed, running a hand down your face. “You know what. Forget it. You don’t understand. Please just leave.” You waved your hand in defeat as he caught your hand again.
“I… don’t get why it’s such a big deal.”
“I like him, Nagi! And now I've completely embarrassed myself in front of him… he’ll never look at me the same.”
“He didn’t look at you before.”
“Are you actively trying to make me never speak to you again?”
“You never talked to him before, Y/n. You’ve only seen him play. Who cares what he thinks?”
“I care!” You groan as he suddenly tugs you to him, you stumble slightly, surprised.
“He’s nothing! Sure he’s good at soccer but he’s a maniac about the sport. He’s a hassle. He wouldn’t be good for you anyways.” Nagi explains and you can’t remember the last time he seemed so… passionate about something. He always seemed chill, cool headed. He was heating up the same as you.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” You pushed away from him and this time he didn’t reach for you again. “Just please go.” He stared at you and you couldn’t find it in yourself to meet his eyes. Not this time. There was something different in the air between you both.
“I’m sorry.” Nagi said softly. You swallowed, your eyes shooting up to meet him. You didn’t expect an apology from him. You had expected him to leave. “I gave you shit advice.” You almost laughed, but your dramatics couldn’t let you find humor in this moment. “On purpose.” He finished as your lips fell open in surprise.
“What?” You asked, taking a step towards him.
“I did it on purpose.” He repeated.
“I heard you. Why would you do that?” You asked sharply, eyes searching his guilty face. Nagi sighed exhaustedly.
“I didn’t think you’d ask him so publicly.”
“Nagi.” You admonished as he sighed again.
“Do you really not know?” He asked, running a hand over his face as he leaned against the wall, all long legs and dramatics.
“Know what?”
“Come on. Aren’t I supposed to be the oblivious one?” He asked and you wanted to pinch him. He sighed once again. “This is such a hassle.”
“You love that word.” You grumbled annoyed.
“I invite you to all my games. I try to have dinner with you whenever I can. I ride with you to school as often as possible.” He lists off.
“Okay?”
“Okay?” He mocks as you narrow your eyes. “I like you, Y/n. I’ve liked you since we were eight. Seriously? You didn’t know?” He throws up his hands in frustration. You blinked. And blinked again. You sucked in a breath, almost forgetting how to breathe. You stared at him, processing everything he just said.
“You annoy the shit out of me! You gave me shit advice because you like me! Why didn’t you just say you liked me!” You argued, reaching over and pinching him. He jumps, sucking in a gasp at your pinch.
“Ouch!” He whined, rubbing the spot. You didn’t pinch him that hard as you rolled your eyes. “I didn’t… I didn’t want to ruin things by up and telling you… I was-- trying to find a romantic moment!” He argued back.
“Romantic moment?” You echoed.
“Uh huh! I was hoping you’d see my sick goal last night and I’d run over and tell you.” He explains and you can’t help it, you dissolve into laughter.
“Geez, how romantic.” You breathe out in between giggles. Nagi just stares down at you, red faced and pouting.
“There… there’s been so many times I’ve wanted to tell you… but it never seemed right. Then you started talking about Rin and I just…” Nagi sighs, running a hand down his face. “I’m sorry I embarrassed you. If… if you want I can talk with him.”
“You’d do that?” You ask, voice soft. He met your eyes and the hurt that lined them was palpable, but he nodded his head.
“It’s the least I can do.”
You thought about letting him squirm but the hurt in his eyes was too much. You didn’t have the heart to tease him or play with his heart, not when he’d been such a good friend to you most of your life.
“Forget it.” You waved slightly. “You're right. I don’t really know him.” His eyes found yours and for the first time you felt something charge in the air. You hadn’t thought about Nagi as more than a friend for the longest time but… something about it had your heart speeding. “Nagi?”
“Hm?”
“Are you serious? About liking me?” You asked as Nagi’s cheeks blushed, despite his effort to keep a cool facade. He nodded his head and suddenly the hall you two were arguing in felt tighter. You averted your eyes and chewed softly on your bottom lip. There had never really been an awkward moment between you and Nagi before but right now it was unbearable.
“Is that… okay?”
“Uh huh.” You hummed nervously, fiddling with your hands. You couldn’t look up at him, you just couldn’t. This was the second most embarrassing thing to happen today. “Are you gonna look at me?” He asked and you could hear the smirk on his tone. He shouldn’t be the one smirking, he should be the nervous one! He was the one that confessed after all! Your eyes shot up to meet him. Sure enough he was smirking. Damn him.
“What the hell is so funny?”
“You’re blushing.”
“You’re blushing!” You argued, pointing at his face but again he caught your hand and this time when he tugged you forwards his other hand slid across your cheek into your hair. You knew enough to close your eyes as his lips crashed assuredly into yours. Nagi was a lot of things, he was lazy most of the time. Tired and annoying. And you weren’t sure if he’d ever kissed anyone before but… he kissed exactly how he played on that field, like a pro. What an ass! He was good at everything. He pulled you closer and pressed your back into the wall kissing you as though he’d die if he parted from your lips. It was a lightheaded inducing kiss. You had three kisses in your life. Of course Nagi when you were eight but… it was less than a peck. Then there was the boy from middle school who kissed you during a dance. That was little more than a peck. Then the boy you dated two years ago. He moved away two weeks after your one year anniversary. He was a good kisser, though you had nothing at the time to weigh it against. Now… you did. That boy before… was nothing like Nagi. It felt weird to even think about it since you two had been friends for so long but… really. This was… something different. This was the kind of kiss that pop girls wrote about in their love songs. The kind of kiss you’d dream about for years to come.
“Where’s your head at?” Nagi asked against your lips, his voice low and breathy, it sent a shiver down your spine.
“I’m thinking… you need to kiss me again.”
“Mhm,” He hummed amusedly, nodding his head. “Yes ma’am.”
synopsis: a seven month relationship has it's turbulent moments...
author's note: hello! this will be part of a three part series. first part will be rin, second nagi and third Isagi. I'm gonna try and tie them all together like a little bow. anyways enjoy this first part! this was lots of fun to write and ended up a bit longer than I intended but ya know.
wc: 5.2k
cw: fluff, use of y/n, not proofread, fem reader, angst
click here for my masterlist!
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In high school you dated this boy. It lasted seven months. Being young makes everything feel so heightened, so… pressing. The love you felt and the hurt towards the end was nothing you’d ever felt before. Like something from the books you’d read or the movies on screen. It felt that important. That serious. Seven months turned you cynical. Because the heart you handed out was taken and never returned. And what’s a body without a heart?
When you graduated high school you went into the world like that. Closed off and careful. You’d been burned once with no way to properly heal. You wouldn’t make that mistake again with someone new.
Rin Itoshi had already ruined that for you.
And when a couple months passed after graduation and snow had started to fall that last thing you expected was Rin on your doorstep. Black hair dusted with snowflakes. It was obvious he’d walked to your house. His cheeks red from the cold, shoes and the cuffs of his pants wet and partially frozen. You had months to sit and stew with your feelings. With the hurt he’d left you. With the good memories that liked to cloud the bad ones. When you met him he was a completely different person from the one you fell in love with to the one you barely knew as he stood on your porch.
“May I please come in?” He asked politely, a slight tremor in his voice. It was obvious he was cold.
“You should’ve called.” You answered coldly. He shivered, from the cold or your tone you weren’t sure.
“Would you have answered?” He asked, a sickeningly hopeful look on his face. But behind that, resignation as you answered the way he expected.
“No.” It was a resolute answer. But you surprised him as you moved to the side, an unspoken invitation to come inside. Your Mom was out for the weekend, she’d be back Monday to see you off to the airport and off to college you’d go.
You pushed the door shut behind him, clipping off the cold air. Rin’s back was to you, broad shoulders fitted with a black suede jacket, snow sprinkling across it. The walk from his house to yours could’ve easily been an hour. And although this was someone you felt strong negative emotions for he was also someone you would’ve given your own jacket to months before. Letting yourself face that cold alone just so he wouldn’t know what it felt like. But this was also someone who just… wouldn’t do the same for you. He might’ve cared in his own way but… you were always going to be second in his mind.
“Go sit by the fireplace, I’ll make some tea.” You said, brushing past him towards the kitchen, not looking back. You fell into a routine as your mind drifted. Traitorous thoughts pouring in because this exact moment had happened before but the circumstances were different.
~
You used to study at a park near your house. Had been going to it for a little bit, at least two or three months since you moved back here with your mom. Your mom worked as a saleswoman so throughout most of the day she was arguing with people over the phone and since your apartment has thin walls you could barely focus. The park was usually very quiet. The occasional few kids playing at the jungle gym or jogger passing by, the gentle pat of their shoes on the pavement. The only thing as punctual as you was the determined boy practicing soccer across the field. He went to school with you but was a grade above you so you didn’t have any classes with him. You’d only see him in passing periods and occasionally out in the courtyard during lunch. But now almost everyday at the park around 5:30. The boy was wildly punctual. You’d be engrossed in your studies and suddenly hear the sound of a cleat smashing a ball into the goal. That’s how you’d know you had about thirty minutes left to study. You didn’t like being out when it got dark so you usually left by 6.
This particular day you were reading homework chapters from a book. You heard the usual cleat smashing the ball and flipped your page. Thirty minutes left. The wind picked up as your papers on the picnic table were carried from the table. You jumped to your feet, grabbing them as they hit the grass. You straightened, your eyes naturally falling across the field. You spotted the boy sat in the grass, wrapping something around his ankle, his face twisted in silent discomfort. You sucked in a breath, placing your papers back on the table sliding your book atop them so they didn’t fly away again. You watched as the boy pushed himself to his feet, he wobbled for a moment then took a step. You could hear the curse fall from his lips across the field as he fell to his knees in pain. You gasped slightly, swallowing nerves as you jogged across the field towards him.
“Hey! Hey are you okay?” You called out to him as you approached from behind. It was a silly question since you’d seen him fall to his knees in pain. The boy with the black hair waved his hand dismissively.
“I’m fine.” His voice was clipped, you didn’t have to be a master in body language to know he was not fine at all. You walked around towards the front of him and met his eyes.
“I don’t think so. Did you hurt your ankle?” You asked, searching his face. You’d never been this close to him, never looked at his face this long. His eyes were sharp, like a cat’s, sharp and blue with long lashes and a downturned mouth. Must’ve been used to frowning.
“No.” He answered shortly, his hand lingered by the wrap on his ankle. For a moment you just stared at him, surprised by his attitude. He was sort of an asshole. Slowly you nodded your head in understanding, you knew when your presence wasn’t wanted.
“Ah, must’ve just imagined you falling to your knees in pain, my mistake.” You answered back just as shortly, walking on past him back towards your picnic table. You got about ten steps away before…
“Wait.” His voice just barely carried over the wind. You turned, his eyes drilled into the grass, not meeting yours. “Could you help me to my car?” He asked but his voice was still a bit sharp, as though it physically pained him to ask for help. You grew up with manners, you knew how to say please and thank you, there was no shame in asking for help. But there was shame in being a dick about it.
“Please.” You said and his eyes cut to yours, the wind blowing his hair slightly, his dark brows furrowed softly.
“What?”
“Ask nicely.” You said evenly. You watched his lips part in surprise. He clearly wasn’t used to someone sticking up to him. You could see it in his face, the annoyance he felt over your two words. You raised your brows expectantly and turned to remind him you could just leave. He raised a hand to you, an outstretched hand.
“Wait,” he said again, swallowing dryly. He sighed, letting his hand fall to the grass. “Could you help me to my car… please?” He pouted. Actually pouted.
“That sounded more painful than your hurt ankle.” You regaled, walking towards him. He raised his hand again and your freezing fingers slid into his warm palm. You gripped him tightly, pulling him with all your might to his feet. The man was a giant, at least two heads taller than you. He leaned heavily against you, his right arm sliding over your shoulders as you wrapped your left arm around his hip, your right hand reaching up and holding his hand by your shoulder. You helped him towards the parking lot, listening to his try to hide the pain he felt. He’d suck in a quiet breath or you’d feel his hand tense.
“You gonna make it?” You asked, turning and craning your neck to meet his eyes. He stared straight.
“Of course.” He said through gritted teeth. It almost made you laugh. This boy was a stubborn creature.
“Lean more on me. I’m here for a reason aren’t I?” You asked, hearing the boy swallow dryly.
“I’ve seen you… before.” Changing the subject? He wasn’t sly.
“I come here to study.” You answered, tightening your hold on his hip.
“Not here. School.” He amended.
“Yeah… yeah I’ve seen you too.” You answer nonchalantly. “You hurt that one girl's feelings the other day.” You felt him stiffen.
There were a few whispers about the boys in your school, you were never one for gossip but you had ears and sometimes that’s all the girls in your grade wanted to talk about. The soccer prodigies, Rin, Isagi and Nagi. There was a girl in your grade that decided she wanted to be different from the other girls that had asked Rin out. She got him flowers and chocolates, and made a big embarrassing show of it. You didn’t know Rin that well but you had a feeling it wouldn’t go well. The girl did it during a passing period so a lot of kids were passing by. Your locker just happened to be in view of the whole thing. You didn’t want to watch but most kinds were blocking your path. You missed the first bit of her speech but caught the obvious question. Will you go out with me? You peered behind a couple students, just barely catching Rin’s response as well as the completely uninterested look he gave her. Who’re you? He had asked. The hall was silent. Forty, no fifty kids all surprised and embarrassed into silence. The tears came first and then the girl was pushing through the laughing crowd. The girl was in your next two periods but she didn’t show up. Rin had completely embarrassed the girl. She didn’t show up the rest of the week.
“What… was I supposed to say?” He asked. You furrowed your brow.
“If you weren’t interested you could’ve been polite about it.”
“I wasn’t interested. And I didn’t know her.” He says as though that gave him reason to embarrass the poor girl. You sighed. This was none of your business, you’d talked to the girl maybe once or twice in passing. You just simply shook your head. Who were you, a girl he didn’t know, to lecture him on turning down another girl he apparently didn’t know.
“She was just hurt, that’s all.” You said dismissively as you crossed over from the grass towards the parking lot, you two paused as you gathered up your book bag and papers, shoving them into your bag. You pulled him towards your car as he slowed, showing some resistance.
“My car’s that way.” He pointed.
“I’m aware.” You continued walking. “But you hurt the foot that you drive with so I’ll give you a ride.”
“I live across town.” He said as though it was too far.
“Then give me gas money.” You groaned, fishing out your keys from your pocket.
“I… I can’t.” He stuttered. He sounded… nervous?
“I’m joking, it’s fine. I have gas.” You informed him as he pulled you both to a stop.
“I can’t go home just yet.” He said quietly. You looked up at him.
“What?”
“I can’t go home just-”
“I know what you said.” You sighed. “What do you mean you can’t go home?”
“I practice until ten, every night. I can’t go home. Or he-” Releasing he might’ve been revealing something too personal Rin stopped talking. You stared up at him, brows curved in confusion.
“You’re hurt, you can’t practice.”
“Please.” His eyes met yours imploringly and for a split second you saw what that girl who made a big show of asking him out saw. A handsome boy, whose eyes weren’t as sharp as you initially thought. You blushed and looked away towards your car.
“Okay…” You trailed off. “Do you have any friends you could go to?” You looked back up at him, his silence was an answer in itself. “My mom usually makes dinner around this time… I guess you could come with me?” You felt like that girl in the hallway suddenly more than ever. You forced yourself to keep your eyes on him, if he showed the slightest bit of discomfort you’d think of something else. But instead… he blushed, looking out towards your car.
“Okay.” He said simply, voice soft and low.
“Okay?” You questioned.
“Okay… please take me home-… with you.” You both blushed this time.
Your mom wasn’t home, you were actually pretty thankful. The last boy you had brought home to her had left your house in tears and stopped speaking to you at school. You were mad at first but later found out he was texting multiple girls while seeing you. You asked your mom then if she had any idea and the older woman had just shrugged her shoulders and claimed, ‘he just seemed weak and not fit for my little girl’. She’d probably saved you from a lot of heartbreak.
You pulled Rin in through the front door and kicked it closed behind you, helping him towards the living room. You helped him to the couch and sighed an exhausted breath when you lost his added weight.
“Here,” You said as you helped him prop his ankle on the coffee table, placing a pillow underneath it so it was elevated. “I’ll get some ice.” You said, pushing to your feet.
“Wait, Y/n?”
“Hm?” You hummed, pausing in the doorway towards the kitchen.
“Uh… thank you… for your help.” He said and once again you watched the poor boy blush. You gave him a soft smile, nodding your head as you disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later you were back by his side, doting on him for reasons you did not want to understand. You help the ice pack on his ankle and bite back a laugh at his red face. What was he so nervous about? He spied that reaction.
“What’s funny?” He asked as you met his eyes, shrugging.
“Nothing.” You answered simply. “Want something to eat?”
“I’m okay.”
“Drink?”
“N-no thank you.”
“I could fetch a blanket, or maybe turn on a movie.”
“Just your company is fine.” He answered before his brain could stop him. You raised a brow at him and watched that pretty face turn even more red.
“Just my company is fine?” You teased.
“Please stop talking.” He sighed, hand over face.
“Since you asked so nicely.” You obliged, leaning back on the couch beside him, balancing the ice pack on his ankle. It was quiet for a moment but surprisingly it wasn’t uncomfortable. “...Why didn’t you wanna go home?” You cautioned, he could very easily shut your question down but… he didn’t.
“My brother’s back from college for a bit.” He answered. You knew his brother, a big shot soccer guy, played for japan.
“Oh?”
“He’s… good at what he does. Too good. He used to practice everyday. From 5:30 to 10 pm.”
“Just like you.” You smiled, rolling your head to face him as he spoke. You thought he was reminiscing but he looked… sad.
“Sae never got hurt. He could practice for hours and not work up a sweat.”
“Yeah… he’s good. I watched a few of his matches with my cousins. They’re big fans.” You said, Rin turned, insistent eyes meeting yours. “What?”
“What do you think?” He asked, his eyes searching your face. You raised your brows.
“About what?”
“Sae.” He said, there was sadness in his eyes. A deepness to his words that you didn’t understand. You pouted slightly in thought.
“Hm… I… I think he’s good? I honestly don’t know too much about him.” You responded. His eyes were expectant of something you were unsure of. “The girls in school like him.”
“Oh.. And you?” He asked a little too quickly to sound natural. Something clicked then. He was… jealous? No… no that couldn’t be it.
“Honestly?” You asked as Rin immediately nodded his head, he really needed to know your answer. “Not a fan of red heads.” You shrugged, not exactly true, you had nothing against them but you couldn’t exactly say that Sae seemed like a stuck up prick. Or maybe you could because the genuine, albeit, small smile that spread across Rin’s face was surprising. He chuckled, it was a warm sound that filled your chest.
“Is that so?” He murmured as you smiled, giggling. “What is your type then?”
“Hm…” You trailed off, pretending to think. “Blondes.” You teased and laughed when Rin’s smile turned into a small pout. “I’m joking… I don’t really have a- mhm!” His lips cut off your sentence, you hadn’t noticed how close you two had drifted as you spoke. You hadn’t thought about what the boy's lips felt like until this very moment as his lips pressed against yours, his hand sliding desperately on your face, thumb stroking your cheek as his hand rested on your jaw. At this very moment there wasn’t much going through your mind. It was confusing but warm, shocking but your insides were twisting and fluttering as the kiss deepened and his hand slid past your face into your hair. Your hand feebly gripping the front of his shirt as the front door cracked open. You jolted back away from Rin, wide eyed and blushing, the same expression reflected on Rin’s face.
“Honey, you home?” Your mom called out from the front entrance.
“Yeah!” You called out shakily, forcing some room between you and Rin. “I’m in the living room… my-- my friend was hurt at the park so he’s here too.”
“He?” Your mom echoed as your heart felt right into your stomach. You pushed to your feet, rushing towards your mom. She gave you a strict look. “You have a boy over? Alone?”
“It’s not… like that. He-- Mom he sprained his ankle.” You explained as your mom raised her brow as if to say ‘so what?’.”Please… please don’t embarrass me. Nothing was happening.” You whispered back imploringly. Your Mom squinted her eyes as she pushed past you to the living room.Sure enough Rin sat there, the blush on his cheeks still apparent. You hoped she wouldn’t notice.
“Sorry, Miss… my brother’s on his way to pick me up. I’ll be out of your hair.” Rin answered. You lips parted in silent protest as your Mom huffed.
“It’s fine. You sure you're okay?” She asked as you breathed out a sigh of relief. Rin nodded his head.
When Sae showed up you helped Rin to the front door, you reached for the handle but Rin barely grabbed your hand, making you give pause.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you… like that. I’m sorry.” He said, eyes on the floor. You pursed your lips, brows furrowing.
“Like that? So you had another way planned?” You asked as his cheeks pinkened in an instant, even his ears turned red.
“What? N-no.” He stuttered. Where was the cool, suave boy that hurt that girl in the hallway over a week ago? He was a blushing stuttering mess around you and had been like that since the parking lot.
“I’m just teasing.” You smiled, but he hadn’t let go of your hand and your mom had gone upstairs for bed and the way he was looking at you right now was the same way he looked at you earlier before planting one on you. You felt your heart speed and wondered if your face was gradually matching the same blush ratio as his. He looked away.
“There’s… a park closer to my house.” He stated.
“Hm?”
“God… this is embarrassing.” He sighed, swallowing and gently biting his bottom lip. “There’s a park closer to my house but I… like the park you go to better.”
“That’s… nice, Rin.” You said confusedly, not following this one bit. Rin sighed frustratedly.
“I like it better because… because I get to see you. Only if it’s for half an hour.” You sucked in a breath.
Oh.
Oh.
He liked seeing you. If only for half an hour. He turned that girl down in the hallway because he liked seeing you. He caught your eyes in the hallway because you caught him staring without even realizing it. He kissed you. This entire time… Rin Itoshi had a fat… major crush on you and you were none the wiser. The poor boy probably wasn’t trying to be an asshole when you offered him help earlier he was probably embarrassed out of his mind, Then when you offered to take him home with you and he blushed like a schoolgirl. And just your company was fine? Yeah… it sure was fine. Probably more than fine.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Rin asked and you felt bad because you had let him stew for a few probably long seconds as everything dawned on you.
“You have a crush?”
“I… I--,” He stuttered, obviously embarrassed. “Yeah…” He sighed, resigned to his fate. “I do.”
“Wow. That’s… cute.” You laughed. His eyes snapped to yours, defensiveness in his posture.
“It is?” He questioned.
“Yeah. It’s cute. I mean we… barely know each other. Today was probably the most we’ve spoken in the last three months.”
“I know…” He said, a sickeningly sad look on his handsome face. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have kissed you… I shouldn’t have-”
“Hush.” You chirped. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” That shut him right up. “I’m just saying… we don’t know each other that well… but I didn’t say it couldn’t change, did I?” You looked up at him and he nodded at your words.
“Practice with me.” He said suddenly.
“What?”
“When my ankle heals, I could teach you some soccer.”
“That’s how you're going to ask me out?” You asked, eyebrows raised in amusement.
“I think you’d be good at it.” He recovers slightly. “If you beat me in a game I’ll take you out.”
“You’ve got to be joking.” You laughed at his audacity. He’s the one who was crushing on you! And he wanted you to play for his affection?
“I am.” He smirked and Christ did that little action make your heart skip a beat.
~
You’d forgotten what it felt like to feel your heart in your throat, to feel it skip a beat. To feel butterflies in your stomach.
“Here,” You handed Rin his tea as he warmed by the fire.
In hindsight seven months wasn’t the longest but he was your first relationship. Your first love. You knew after four months. Knew after he let you beat him in a practice match when you scored the final goal and he rushed to you, sweeping you off your feet and spinning you around until you were dizzy and giggling only sitting you back down to press and even more dizzying kisses to your lips. But after six months his practices were getting longer. Some nights he’d be out there until midnight. You had once found him passed out on the field after his mom had called you and asked you where he was. It scared the shit out of you. That was your first fight. He was consumed, not with soccer, but with being better than his brother. He’d lost sight of the game he loved and had twisted into a game of jealousy. He didn’t like hearing that from you. Didn’t like that you saw right through him. You drove him home that night and he didn’t speak to you for almost an entire day. A rock in the road that seemed insistent. You tried to move past it, you loved him. But when he missed your birthday dinner, where he was supposed to meet your entire family, you decided it was better to let him be. Let him do what he said he really loved to do. But really he was just running himself ragged in the pursuit of bettering himself to challenge his brother. You weren’t really the type to settle for second best and you wouldn’t let something like this grow out of control. You wouldn’t let yourself fall any deeper because then you’d just be lost. A lost fool chasing after another lost fool.
“Thank you.” Rin replied softly, his cold hands crushed yours as you passed the cup to him. He looked… different. Bigger, like he’d somehow grown another inch or so. His hair was a bit longer, his eyes tired as they stared into the fire. You almost reached out to him, almost ran your hand through his hair. It always calmed him before. But that wasn’t your thing anymore. He wasn’t yours to care about. “You leave monday?” He asked as you swallowed, taking a seat a foot or so away from him.
“Yeah. Mom’s dropping me off.”
“That’ll be a mess.” He remarked. You almost laughed. He knew your mom, he knew she’d be a mess the entire drive to the airport. Just like she’d been for the past few months after you graduated. She was proud to say the least.
“Rin,” You sighed. “Why’re you here?”
“I didn’t come to mess things up further, if that’s what you're thinking.” He sipped his tea before setting it down.
“It’s too late for an apology.”
“It’s never too late.” He rejoined but you shook your head.
“In this case it is.” You sighed tiredly. “You can say what you want but… don’t expect anything.”
“I didn’t come here to make myself feel better. I came here for you.” He implored, his tone switching from tired and defeated to beseeching. “I… should’ve never gotten involved with you.”
“That is a horrible fucking apology.”
“Let me finish, Y/n.” He sighed, running a stressed hand through his hair. “I... I knew how insanely driven I was. I knew and I still chased after you. I shouldn’t have dragged you into my mess. I should’ve let you be but instead I was… I was selfish. I always have been when I came to things I wanted. And god… Y/n… I wanted you more than anything else.”
“Rin, come on. Let’s be truthful. You may have wanted me but not more than anything else. Not more than being better than Sae.” You cut in as Rin’s eyes darted away from yours. You thought about the few times you got into it with Rin’s older brother after Sae carelessly put him down. What a wasted effort.
“I entered this competition, called Blue Lock.” Rin said suddenly. You sighed.
“I know. I heard. You mom still texts me.”
“I was top in the competition. I was picked to play against my brother. The games tomorrow.”
“You better not be asking me to come.”
“I dropped out.” You sucked in a breath, your brows immediately going up, your lips parted in surprise.
“You…what? You dropped out?”
“Uh huh.” He confirmed. “I joined Blue Lock to prove I was better than my brother but over time I found myself not really even thinking of him but… of you. I worked harder and harder to punish myself for losing you. I thought if I could make it to the end… be the best striker, win the trophy, that losing you wouldn’t have been for nothing. But I was only at my best when I had you. And I don’t mean my best on the field, I mean my best as a person.” Rin turns to you, he reaches for your hands and you let him take them. “I loved soccer once but I lost it. I never stopped loving you, not even for a second. You were never second, I was just an idiot. I’m not expecting you to forgive me because I don’t deserve it… but I just had to let you know.”
“You just had to let me know.” You echo, sighing into your cup. “Seriously Rin, I despise you.” Rin’s eyes cut to you as you place your cup on the floor. He watches you closely, your words hurt him clearly.
“I know… I’m sorry-”
“Hush.” You say, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him against your lips. He gasped against your lips, surprised but soon second hand nature set in and his hands were sliding over your hips and drawing you closer to him. He didn’t need an explanation, he'd settle for anything little scraps you’d give him. “I’m gonna need much more groveling by the way. You broke my heart.”
“I beg on my hands and knees for your forgiveness.” He breathed out against your lips sending shivers down your spine.
“Go on then.” You encouraged and although he hated the idea of unlatching from your kiss he moved to his knees in front of you, gently taking your hand. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles.
“Please… please forgive me for being a massive fucking idiot.” He begged, voice soft like the fire glow that caressed his face. Your stomach twisted, it was a feeling you thought you’d never feel again.
“If you hurt me again that’ll be the last time, Rin.” You caution as Rin swallows, nodding his head. He understood, but there wouldn’t be another time, he wouldn’t squander this chance. “It wouldn’t even be me that you’d have to worry about it’d be-”
“Your mom.” Rin shivers at the thought. You laugh at that and Rin almost sobs, he didn’t think he’d hear that ever again, let alone see that soft loving smile on your face. You stood suddenly, stretching.
“Alright, let’s go.” You said as Rin blinked up at you in surprise.
“What?”
“What? You think I’m just gonna let you throw away all your hard work? Fuck that.” You said, brushing past him as he pushes to his feet.
“Y/n… What’re you-”
“The game. I’m not letting you drop out, Rin.” You said over your shoulder as you marched towards your room to get changed. You had a long drive ahead of you if you were going to get Rin to the stadium before tomorrow. Rin’s spending fingers wrapped around your wrist, stopping you.
“I dropped out, baby, I can’t play.”
“Your team needs you. You can’t let them down.” You said as Rin’s face softened. “Plus,” You pulled him to you. “I wanna see you play.”
“You do?”
“Uh huh.”
“And what if I’m shit? What if we lose?”
“It won’t change a thing, Rin.” You say, bringing him down to meet your lips.
“I love you.” He whispered against your lips as you smiled into the kiss.
synopsis: recently injured a man helps you recover...
authors note: please enjoy!
wc: 2.6k
cw: spoilers for mha you're next, injuries, blood, angst, reader is the one for all weilder
click here for my masterlist!
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One moment you were fighting a fraudulent hero and the next all you could hear was the revving of a motor. The bumpiness of uneven roads and the searing pain of a fight lost. You were in and out, your conscience fading like a dying light. But you felt arms around you, willfully out of place. It wasn’t a feeling you were used to.
You’d locked up feelings and romantic ideals years ago when you became a pro hero. One of the best in the streets. A successor of All-Might himself. You had a lot riding on you and a lot you sacrificed to be what everyone needed. You weren’t just the number one hero, you were the shell of one. So being carted away, in unfamiliar arms, had your nerves on the edge. Not only that but… you couldn’t move.
Utterly exhausted.
The arms tightened around you as a corner was taken rather sharply. You tried lifting your head but you couldn’t even open your eyes fully. Only one eye opened to a slit, flashing lights above and the wisp of red hair beneath a helmet in the rushing wind. You blacked out, not sure how much time had passed but you awoke to sharp searing pain as the arms around you carried you from one place to another. Against everything, the strength and care you were carried in had your danger sense nullified. You were carried with the utmost compassion, like you were the most special of cargo.
“This’ll have to do.” The man spoke as he kicked something aside and sat you gently down on a flat surface. The pain that shot through you was enough to get your adrenaline kicking in. You gasped in pain, eyes flying open as your hand shot out, grasping the man by the wrist. You didn’t hold him with the same care he held you, your touch was rough and demanding.
“What happened?” You ground out, hand shaking. The man ignored your outburst and with practiced touch he examined your wound. He no longer dawned the helmet, must’ve taken it off before carrying you… wherever this was. He looked… kind? Albeit a little rough around the edge, stark red hair tied back out of his face, a strand loose and untamed. Dark eyes, one hidden behind a black eye patch, the other examining you, a hint of concern lining it.
“May I?” He asked, eyes not leaving your torso. You looked at his hands, he was asking permission to touch you. Gloved hands waiting for consent.
“I have to get back out there… soon.” Get back out where? You could barely remember what happened before this… what led you to this pain. Unable to even sit up. Still… that didn’t dull the fact you knew you were needed. A hero like you never rested. Not since becoming number one that is. The man's expression hardens at your words, his gaze flitting from your torso to your eyes.
“You’re in no condition to go anywhere,” He said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. “Now, please, let me-”
“I don’t know you.” You pushed his hands away but the little movement was enough to have you gasping in pain, hand flying to your stomach. The man’s eyes narrow as you writhe in pain, he grabs your wrists, firmly but gently, preventing you from moving further. His grip is strong, but his touch is still careful not to cause you any more pain.
“You don’t know me, but that doesn’t matter right now does it?” He says insistently, eyes holding a resolute look. “You are my priority right now, and I won’t let you jeopardize yourself.”
“Oh please,” You sighed, breathing unevenly. “I can still fight… I’ve had worse injuries.” A foolish thing to say considering you were wavering, paling by the second. But feeling useless and cared for wasn’t something you were used to. His grip tightens just barely and he leans closer, his gaze intense on yours.
“You’re barely staying conscious.” His tone reflected determination and a hint of worry. You idly wondered who this man really was. “You can remain stubborn and die a bloody death or you can let me help you.” You preferred the first option but you knew that was only the worst part of you thinking that. You sighed, clenching your jaw, meeting his eyes. He stares back, his gaze unwavering. He can see the stubbornness in your eyes, your own determination that drove you. But it seemed he was equally resolute in his stance. You looked away, forcing yourself to sit up slightly to get any idea of your injuries. The man's hands flew to your shoulders. “Please.” There was… something in his voice, something in his eyes that had you stopping.
“Alright.” You relented. “Make it quick.” His eyes harden, his jaw clenching. It’s clear he doesn’t approve with your insistence but he also understands the urgency.
“I’ll be as quick as I can, lay back.” He assures you, his voice unwavering. He turns away from you for a moment, rummaging through a nearby satchel. He returns to your side, gently lifting your shirt as you hiss in pain. “This is going to hurt.”
“I’m aware.” You respond sharply. A grim determination washes over his face as he positions himself at your side. You notice then his hand wasn’t that at all, but a prosthetic as the cool metal soothes your hot skin.
“I need you to stay still, or as still as possible.” He instructs, his voice a low rumble. “Take a deep breath.” You do and without further warning, he pours some alcohol onto the wound, the pain inevitable as it shocks through your system. You writhe in pain, trying to keep as still as possible, tears pricking the corner of your eyes.
The fight before comes back to you in flashes at this moment. A man, tall and imposing, claiming to be the hero. Claiming to be your predecessor, All-Might. He looked like him. Just like him… it was alarming. You were angry… he’d… hurt someone? Pain seared through you. The man before you was there too. What was he doing there? Didn’t matter at the time. Your eyes and ambitions were set with taking out an imposter but… but he got you first. The loss was like a fresh lashing to your ego. You’ve never been good with losing.
“Hey… hey wake up.”
The last time you lost a lot of people got hurt because of you. You vowed never to let that happen again. Hero’s don’t lose. Losing meant death, and not just for the hero but the people they protected.
“Wake up!”
Your eyes fluttered open, an insistent hand patted your face before pause, the palm warm against your cheek. Your breathing was shallow, uneven. Hazily you blinked through your fogged mind. The man’s eyes widened above you, relief washing over him. He lets out a shaky breath, shoulders relaxing.
“You gave me a damn scare.” He sighed, hand still on your face.
“What… what happened?” You asked, voice soft and weak. You almost didn’t recognize it.
“Don’t pass out on me again.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose.” You swallowed dryly. “Got me stitched up?” The man nods his head and when you try to sit up his hands fly to your shoulders again, shaking his head. “Christ almighty, will you please just relax, you’ll reopen your stitches.” You stop, sighing.
“You saved me. Why? You work with that… copycat?” You ask, voice coming back to its regular fluctuation. You didn’t feel as though you were riding on the line of life and death anymore. The man's eyes flick up to meet yours, there's a moment, something shared from him to you but you were like a brick wall. Walls as high as the heavens themself. He wasn’t getting through. Not now at least.
“I don’t work for anyone.”
“So why save me?”
“I couldn’t just let you die.” He says that as though it should be obvious.
“You were there, when I… fought that freak. Why were you there?” You asked, eyes hard. He seems unfazed by your questioning. Instead turns, grabbing a water pack. He hands it over to you.
“Drink and I’ll answer your questions.” He pushes the pack into your open hand, gently closing your fingers around it before pulling back. The moment was surprisingly… tender? Not that you had much knowledge of what that would feel like. All you knew was that his concern wasn’t going unnoticed by you, or more specifically your heart. It did a traitorous little flip when his hand brushed yours. You pulled back, dragging the pack to your lips. Taking a begrudging sip before thrusting it back towards him. He just simply shakes his head, his way of telling you it was yours to keep.
“Do you know who I am? Is that why you saved me?” The man lifts his gaze from your bandaged torso to your eyes once more.
“Sure, I’ve seen you on TV before. You’re a big shot hero. It’s not why I saved you. I already told you why I saved you.”
“Big shot?” You echo, voice rasping. There’s a faint hint of amusement on his expression as he nods his head, reaffirming his words.
“Big shot, big shit, whatever you want to call it.” He says, a slight shrug accompanying his words. “You’re well-known, after all.”
“A fan then?” If he wanted to be amused by the situation then so could you. After all, if he wanted to kill you he would’ve done it by now. There’s a brief pause, he looks up at you, brow raised.
“Not really.” He admits, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. “Never been a fan of big shot heroes like yourself.”
“You sure swept me up like it.” You retorted, voice lulling.
“Don’t get the wrong idea.” He says gruffly, his eyes focused on yours. “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I couldn’t just leave you bleeding out there.” His words are nonchalant, but his actions were anything but. His hands lingers on you, his eyes betraying his uncaring words. The look of someone hiding true intentions.
“Sure,” You sat up, groaning in pain. The man tuts in disapproval, shaking his head.
“You’re unruly. Don’t move too much, you’ll rip your damn stitches.” He advises sternly, a frown on his face.
“It’s inevitable, once I get back out there I’ll probably be a bleeding mess by the end of the fight. Might need another stitch up.” You say nonchalantly. You didn’t defeat that copycat, but you were going to. The man's expression grows sour as you mention fighting.
“Don’t you dare think about going out there. I get you’re a hero and all but there are other heroes.” He says firmly, voice gruff. “You can't even sit up without being in pain. Do you really think you can handle a fight in this state?”
“I need ten minutes. That’s all.” You sat up fully, ignoring the pain and hiding it the best you could. You leaned over, paling as you pulled your boots on, strapping them up. You know the look on the man's face as he continues, frustration clearly growing.
“Ten minutes? Really? You think you’ll be in any condition to fight at all in ten minutes? You’ll just get yourself killed. And what good would that be for anyone?”
“Who’re you really? What’s your name?” You ask, though it sounded more like a demand. For a moment he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you like you were the most wild and unattainable nearly extinct creature. But after a moment his lips part and he speaks with a measured voice.
“Giulio.”
“You care a lot for someone you just met, Giulio. Let alone a big shot hero like me.”
A slight scoff escapes Giulio’s lips at your words.
“Care? You heroes love to flatter yourself. I don’t care about you. I just don’t like seeing people make hard decisions when they can be easy.”
“There are no easy decisions when being a hero.” You grunt, reaching up and pulling your hair back out of your face. “I have people to save, I can’t just sit here on my ass.”
“I understand that but-”
“Enough.” You use a voice that leaves no room for argument. “I’m not some weakling you're tasked to look after. You know who I am, you know what I’m capable of and I don’t appreciate the babying.”
“Having someone care for you shouldn’t be taken as an insult.” He says but his voice wasn’t as fed up as yours was. You swallow and meet his eyes. “I apologize if I stepped over a line.” Your lips part but the fire in your stomach dissipates at his apology. You close your lips and sigh. You weren’t sure what was happening beyond the walls of this small room. Whether or not people were already dead, if your fellow heroes were alright. You were completely in the dark. But he wasn’t.
“If you're truly sorry you’ll tell me what happened after I got my ass kicked.” You say, rising to your feet. The pain is fresh, you stretch and hide it.
“We’re in some kind of… false world. Created by the quirk of the man who you fought.”
“Is that so…” You say, flexing your hands, your powers flickering in your veins. Alive and ready for another round. “So if you're not working for that man… Why were you there?”
“He has someone I care for.” He says. You turn to face him, his face betrayed nothing like his voice did.
“That blond girl? Is she your girlfriend or something?”
“Of course not.” Giulio dismissed, shaking his head like the idea was outlandish. “I worked for her. That’s all.”
“Right…” You say carefully. Not sure why the slight idea of someone you just met having feelings for someone else left a sour feeling in your stomach. “And you want to save her, right?” You ask as he nods his head, meeting your eyes.
“And you want a rematch, right?” He asks and you almost smile at the insinuation. Or just the mere thought of righting the wrongs dealt to you.
“It’s a bit more than that but it seems… our ambitions align.”
“It’d be in our best interest to work together to get what we want.” He agrees, rising from the spot he was sat in. He was taller than you, you hadn’t expected that. You looked up at him, a slow nod.
“It does seem like that, doesn't it.” You say, looking him up and down. He didn't dress like a hero, nor like a normal person. He wore a scuffed up three piece suit. You gathered the woman taken was probably his employer, he can say he doesn't care for her all he wants but... there's some lengths you go that show your hand when it comes to those things. Though... he sort of went out of his way to help you... maybe he's just that kind of person. You weren't sure and dwelling on it did nothing good for the mission at hand. You weren't proud enough to turn away help, after all you two would be crossing paths anyways it seemed. "Alright." You relented, nodding your head. "But you have to promise something."
"What?"
"No getting starstruck by this big shot hero." You teased, hoping to see that ghost of a smirk again. As much as his face didn't want to, the amusement shone through.
"What a joke." He rolled his eyes. "Let's get going then."
synopsis: you promised a kiss, it’s time for you to make good on it…
authors note: hi hi hi! It’s been a little over a month since my last post. I’m just feeling slightly unmotivated but this was fun to write and I think it put me back in the mood a bit so I hope you all enjoy!!!
cw: fluff, slightly suggestive
wc: 1.7k
click here for my masterlist
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Repetition.
Again and again.
Store up cursed energy, release it.
Store and release. Manifest this technique and that technique. Dodge hits, send them back. Repetition. It keeps your mind sharp, or so you’ve read before.
You’ve taken up training Yuji the past few months and with all your training he was well surpassing you to the point where sometimes he’d leave you winded.
You’d stressed for a long time for him to find motivation and after he’d confessed his, you had kept your own to yourself. After all, Yuji was on borrowed time, although if the higher ups did deem him to be executed you knew after all this time spent with him you’d help him even if it meant your own death. He was just worth it.
You promised him a few weeks back a kiss if he was able to keep his cursed energy in check but… you went back on your promise. Yuji wasn’t mad of course, he just assumed you’d gotten cold feet. That was until you told him, with a handshake, that if he was able to beat you in combat then that’s when he’d get his kiss. He was a natural at just about everything. Athletic and toned and stronger than most people you knew. He was resilient and you had really seen that in the past few weeks, he was a man possessed. Training day and night. He was persistent in his endeavors… which just happened to be kissing you. You had nothing left to teach him at this point. And you knew… you’d probably lose the fight.
“You’re all in your head, feeling okay?” Yuji asked as you felt him sit beside you. You’d been eating outside, it was nice out but the sun slowly hid behind clouds making it sort of gloomy. You look over at him, nodding your head.
“Fine. How’d your mission go?” You ask as Yuji’s face physically brightens at your full attention.
“Good,” He smiles. “We managed to exercise all the curses without anyone getting hurt.”
“Really?” Your eyes zone in on a bruise on his cheek. He notices your eye line and blushes.
“No one got too hurt. It’s just a little bruise, that’s all.” He says. You reach over and barely swipe your thumb across it.
“I know you're tough and all but the last time you said that you had three bruised ribs, Yuji.” You say and notice Yuji’s unable to answer back. His entire face is beat red, eyes slightly wide. You bite back a smile and pull your hand away. He swallows dryly and clears his throat.
“It’s-- just a reflex… I don’t want to worry you, that's all. Really I’m fine.” He reassures you.
“You can worry me, Yuji, I don’t mind.” You say, gathering up your things as Yuji plucks your bag of chips
“I’m a tough guy, Y/n.” He teases as you roll your eyes, snatching the chips back.
“I said that already.” You tease back, pushing to your feet as Yuji picks up your bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He’d gotten taller since you’ve known him, it felt as though you had to crane your neck to look up at him sometimes. “Besides, we’re gonna find that out today.” You bump gently against him as you two fall in step with one another. You hear Yuji suck in a breath, quiet excitement on his face.
“That’s right, we’re gonna go head to head today.” He says as you nod your head.
“Uh huh.” You glance over at him and waggle your brows. “Think you can beat me now?”
“God I hope so.” Yuji breathes out as you dissolve into soft laughter.
“Wanna hold it over my head that badly, huh?”
“I don’t care about that.” He says and you raise a brow. He looks at you and suddenly you remember. It had been weeks since you’d told him that if he beat you you’d give him a kiss, how could you forget that. You blush and although you felt shy you didn’t let your face show it.
“Ah… so that’s your end goal.” You tease as Yuji’s face reddens even more.
“N-No! That’s not… that’s not all I want.” He stutters.
“Jeez, you want more? That’s kinda greedy is it not?”
“Stop teasing, you know that’s not what I meant.” He chuckles and god you can physically feel your chest warm at the sound.
“Don’t get any funny ideas, Itadori.”
“Stop…” He covers his face with his hands shaking his head at your teasing.
~
Arriving at the training room, you and Yuji part ways as you change into some more appropriate clothing. You tie your hair back and stretch a bit before walking back out into the main room. Yuji was stretching near the middle, dressed in shorts and a plain white tee. He smiled when he noticed you and you couldn’t help but blush. He stood to his full height as you walked over to him, holding out your hand. He took it.
“Good luck.” You smirk as Yuji raises his head grinning.
You’d fought a lot of opponents before this moment. Curses small and large. You’d been slashed and stabbed and kicked and punched. You’d been thrown back yards and even broke a finger that one time. You’d fought Megumi and sparred with Gojo, Gojo made you look like a fool, of course. The point is, you weren't weak. You were formidable. Especially since training with and alongside Yuji. You two made each other better. That’s why when you suffered defeat at his hands you couldn’t help but feel especially bitter. Yuji won two out of three rounds. The bastard. He’d taken all he’d learned from you and turned it up a few notches. You weren’t technically a sore loser but you weren’t a gracious one either.
You sighed from the ground as Yuji pulled you to your feet.
“Asshole, you knew my right leg was still healing from my last mission.” You chirped as Yuji smiled guiltily.
“Sorry, it was too easy.” He chuckled as you gave him a sharp, teasing look.
“I think I’m gonna need another round.” You tease as Yuji shakes his head.
“Nuh uh, fair is fair.” He insists, making you groan.
“Fine… you beat me. Fair and square.” You walk close to him and watch his eyes grow. He was realizing right in front of your eyes that you meant what you said. His cheeks pinkened and you watched him swallow dryly. “A promise is a promise.” You say softly, taking another step. You were only a foot or two away from him as you reached and gently grabbed his hand in yours. His eyes flicked from your eyes to your hand. He watched you pull his hand up and up until you gently pressed your lips against his bruised knuckles. He watched this all in rapt attention, a look of utter disbelief on his face. As though this wasn’t something real he was watching but rather his wildest dreams. Slowly you let go of his hand and his hazy eyes found yours. “There you go. A kiss.”
“W-wait… that’s the kiss?” He asked, blinking as if coming out of a stupor. You nodded your head, holding back a smile. You were hoping to get a rise out of him but Yuji just glanced down at his hand and the smallest, most pleased smile fit to his lips.
“Thank you.” He said in a soft voice. “That… that was worth all the training.” His voice held no sarcasm. You were… slightly shocked.
“You’re… fine with that?”
“Hmm?”
“The kiss… you don’t… you didn’t want more?”
“More?” He repeated, slightly clueless. You blew out a breath before dissolving into laughter.
“Yuji… you seriously… are so cute.” You say in between giggles. Seeing you smiling and laughing makes Yuji’s face brighten.
“What? What’d I do?”
“Come here.” You say after a moment, catching your breath. Yuji asks no questions, he just steps closer to you. You reach your hand up, cupping either side of his face. “I’m gonna give you a proper kiss, alright?” You ask as Yuji, unblinking, nods his head slowly. You tilt on the tips of your toes and he lowers his face just slightly until your lips meet his. You moved confidently, your lips finding his without a moment of hesitation. Drawing him closer, you took the lead in the kiss with a gentle but firm touch. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer with a strong but comforting grip.
You could feel his tension melt away, his body relaxing into your embrace as he surrendered to the intimacy between you. You both had gotten a little carried away, you’d pulled him down, crashing onto the training mat. It wasn’t careful but Yuji made sure you landed on top. You pressed against him, body and all, lips tangled as his hands flew to your hips, one sliding up your body to cup your face.
“That… escalated,” you remarked between kisses. Yuji smiled against your lips, pinned on the mat beneath you he looked as though he’d died and went to heaven.
“So this is what you call a proper kiss?” He teases and you can’t help but laugh.
“Uh huh. It’s how I motivate my friends.” You teased back.
“I don’t want to just be your friend, Y/n.” Yuji pouted as you mentally palmed your face.
“You really are so cute.” You smiled warmly.
“What?! What'd I say?”
“I don’t want to be your friend either, Yuji.”
“Well… what do you want to be?”
“What do you want me to be?” You throw back. You’re practically straddling the man, his hands planted on your hips.
“Mine…” He says and you blush at the pure adoration in his eyes.
“Alright… then that’s what I’ll be.”
“And— I’ll be yours?” His hands slide up your hips as you lean down close to him.
