⤷ eijirou kirishima x reader
⤷ friends to lovers, kiri implied to be taller than reader, inspired the song “look after you” by the fray
compassion is second nature to eijirou kirishima. he’s always willing to lend a helping hand, no protest and no questions asked.
he’s the ‘bro’ friend, the big-brother of the group standing over you all like a shield. they don’t call him the sturdy hero for nothing.
he’s saved your life plenty of times, common in your line of work. but most often the things kirishima saves you from aren’t as big as falling buildings or supervillains.
he always carries an extra hoodie for you in case you get cold. he makes sure everyone drinks water on the weekend group hikes. he always, always offers to share his snacks and insists even when you refuse.
he texts you to make sure you got home safe, even when he’s the one who drove or walked you.
for god’s sake, this is the man that sprinted two blocks to a corner store to buy tweezers when you got a splinter one time a few years ago.
you wonder sometimes how a heart as big as his even fits in his broad chest.
every other weekend bakugou insists on dragging everyone out for a hike because he can’t catch up with you all over dinner like a normal person and needs to do something active.
today’s hike had taken longer than you’d originally thought. bakugou got a little too ambitious with his destination, and then mina and denki had wandered off the trail, and then sero twisted his ankle chasing after them.
it’s nighttime now, and everyone’s been dropped off. you’re the last stop, sitting in the passenger seat of eijirou’s car and wondering how long you can linger without it being weird.
you sigh after a long moment of sitting in peaceful silence with the faint radio music, finally moving to get out of the car.
“night, kiri,” you say in the voice of someone who really doesn’t want to say goodnight.
he moves when you move, clambering out of the drivers seat with a little smile. “i’ll walk you up.”
you stop, meeting his big crimson eyes. “it’s a ten foot walk to the door.”
“yeah.”
“you could just watch me from here, y’know?”
he shrugs, coming around to your side of the car. “‘s no big deal.”
you can feel the warmth coming off his body from when he’s standing next to you. you’re staring up at him curiously, and he blinks down at you.
“i can see your breath,” he chuckles, taking his scarf off and wrapping it around you loosely while you stand there, stunned. his hands linger on the fabric, warm on your shoulders as he beams down at you.
“eiji, don’t you ever get tired of looking after everyone?” you ask after a minute, walking up to the door at his side.
kirishima hums thoughtfully, thinking on it for a second. “i mean, maybe sometimes i guess? but not really, ‘cause i look after the people i care about. so it’s not really work for me, y’know?”
“but don’t you ever want someone to look after you?” you’re at the door now, but you don’t want to go inside just yet.
“you do,” he replies with a little smile, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
you blink, stunned by the revelation.
“you always check up on me. text me good morning and good night. make sure i rest when i’ve been working too hard. carpool front seat so i don’t have to drive alone in the night.” he’s ticking them off on his fingers, an indescribable fondness in his voice. “and besides,” he adds cheerfully, “seeing you happy always has me feeling brand-new.”
you stare up at him with big, soft eyes. “kirishima, i love you.”
he laughs bashfully, scratching at his neck. “yeah, man, i love you too.”
“no, eiji, like i love you.”
he looks at you, meeting your loving gaze. his cheeks darken, and he looks almost nervous. “you…you do?”
you don’t dignify him with a spoken answer. you try to put any words you might’ve strung together into the kiss you pull him in for, clutching at his jacket to bring him down.
he almost gasps into your mouth, but after a moment he’s cradling your face in big, careful hands like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.
he’s grinning when you pull away, eyes like melting rubies. “i love you, too. but i think maybe you knew that already.”
dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/anitalenia — one hug from kirishima could fix all my problems. no further comments.
It does feel like that sometimes
☘︎ . . . genre. fluff
☘︎ . . . pairings. bakugou x reader
yn and bakugou exchanges gifts on valentines day.
It was Valentine’s Day, and the air was thick with the scent of roses and overpriced chocolates. Couples strolled hand in hand down the city streets, hearts plastered on every storefront window. YN couldn’t help but smile at the festive atmosphere as they made their way to Bakugou Katsuki’s apartment, a small gift bag swinging at their side.
Most people wouldn’t peg Bakugou as the Valentine’s Day type. He was loud, brash, and had zero tolerance for anything remotely sappy. But YN had learned that, beneath the explosions and insults, there was a thoughtful, fiercely protective side to him that made their heart race.
Reaching his door, YN knocked twice before hearing heavy footsteps approach. The door swung open to reveal Bakugou, dressed in a black t-shirt and sweatpants, his usual scowl in place.
“You’re early,” he grunted, stepping aside to let them in.
“Happy Valentine’s Day to you too, Katsuki,” YN teased, placing a quick kiss on his cheek as they entered.
“Tch. Whatever,” he muttered, though the faint blush creeping up his neck didn’t go unnoticed.
YN set the gift bag on the coffee table. “I got you something.”
Bakugou’s eyes flicked to the bag, and he crossed his arms. “You didn’t have to get me crap for this stupid holiday.”
YN laughed. “I know. But I wanted to. And you better not complain because I know you got me something too.”
He stiffened, eyes narrowing. “How the hell did you—”
“You’re not as sneaky as you think, Katsuki. I saw the shopping bag you tried to hide last week.”
“Dammit,” he muttered, but there was a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Fine. Wait here.”
He disappeared into his room, returning a moment later with a small, neatly wrapped box. He thrust it toward YN, avoiding their eyes.
“Here. Don’t make a big deal outta it.”
YN’s eyes sparkled as they carefully unwrapped the box. Inside was a silver bracelet with a simple but elegant design. Their breath hitched. “Katsuki, this is beautiful.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “Yeah, well… you said your other one broke, so…”
YN’s chest swelled with warmth. “Thank you.” They slipped it on, admiring how perfectly it fit. “I love it.”
Bakugou’s gaze softened for a fleeting moment before he cleared his throat. “So, what’s in the bag?”
“Open it and see.”
He pulled out a sleek black box and lifted the lid, revealing a set of high-quality cooking knives. His eyes widened in surprise.
“These are…”
“Professional-grade knives,” YN grinned. “I know you’ve been complaining about your old ones getting dull.”
A rare, genuine smile curved Bakugou’s lips. “Damn right I was. These are perfect.”
YN beamed. “I’m glad you like them.”
Bakugou set the knives down and pulled YN into a rough but heartfelt hug. “Thanks, dumbass.”
YN laughed against his chest. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Katsuki.”
He pressed a quick kiss to their temple, his voice low and gruff. “Yeah, yeah. Happy Valentine’s or whatever.”
And though Bakugou would never admit it out loud, this was the best Valentine’s Day he’d ever had.
“WHERE IS MY WIFE?”
♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: curses & curse users have discovered satoru’s greatest weakness, and it’s you, satoru’s sweet, ordinary housewife. after getting kidnapped by gojo’s enemies, he’ll do whatever it takes to get you back.
♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: 18+ only - mdni - slightly dark content // brief smut, fem reader, feral gojo, canon-typical violence, reader gets kidnapped, reader is wounded/has injuries, angst, fluff/comfort
♡ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 5K
♡ —𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: I’d count grains of sand if it meant I could spend one minute alone with feral gojo (:
As evening fell, and after a delicious dinner was eaten at the dining table downstairs, Satoru was in the mood for something else now — you.
His pretty housewife would be his dessert.
The apple pie you baked was sitting on the dark marbled counter of the kitchen island, two big slices missing — and the vanilla ice cream tub in the freezer had, of course, two hefty spherical digs in it where the cold treat was scooped out — but, even after his stomach was stuffed after a hard day of fighting curses and teaching his students, Satoru’s head was buried in between your soft thighs, satisfying his other craving.
As your husband moaned softly, his tongue danced around your aching clit. His large hand massaged your thigh. The moonlight pouring in through the big bedroom window shined upon his wedding ring, making it glisten as he rubbed your delicate skin.
“I’ll never get tired of tasting you,” Satoru smiled a bit, his warm breath patting against your wet folds.
“You were made just for me. God, I love it. I love you.”
Two long fingers sunk into your awaiting hole. He attached his soft lips to your clit, sucking on it.
One of your hands gripped at the luxurious pale-cerulean sheets, while your other hand gripped his hair, fingers getting lost in his white locks.
“Satoru!” A sharp moan escaped your dried throat.
Every little noise you made — every moan, every squeak of the thick mattress — it all boasted his desire to please you.
He didn’t stop his licking-sucking-fingering combo until your legs were trembling around his head and he was satisfied with tasting your juices.
Only after devouring your pussy like a starving man feasting on a buffet-style dinner did he rise from his position and make his way across the bed, hovering over you.
With a smile, Satoru leaned down and planted a soft kiss against your lips. But, when he pulled away, he was met with an amused look of disgust.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, furrowing his brows a bit.
“You just kissed me after eating me out,” you said with a little, playful grimace. “That’s nasty.”
“Mrs. Gojo, I mean this in the most respectful way possible, but hush.” Satoru lightly tapped your forehead. “You have swallowed plenty of my-”
“Ah, ah, ah,” shaking your head, you cut off your husband’s naughty sentence, pressing your hand against his lips.
The corners of your mouth burned as you tried to fight off a smile. His latest affectionate nickname was Mrs. Gojo — although it truly wasn’t a nickname due to it technically being your name now — and at every given opportunity, he addressed you that way.
Even after two years of marriage, he was as excited as a freshly wedded man. Your love was a never-ending honeymoon.
You stared into Satoru’s striking blue eyes. He darted his gaze across your gorgeous face, illuminated by the moonlight, and as you ran your fingers through his white hair and he ran his thumb across your cheek, both of you close enough to feel the gentle pats of each other’s breaths on your mesmerizing faces, you both fell in love with each other just a bit more — if that was even possible.
“Can I fuck you now?”
Satoru’s question made a sudden chuckle spilled out from between your lips. He couldn’t help but laugh too.
“You’re a buffoon. I’m trying to admire your beauty and that’s what you open your mouth to say?” You playfully frowned.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard a human being call another human being a buffoon out loud before.”
“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes humorously. “We need to do our skincare routine first. We have to do it an hour before we go to bed or else we might just rub all the product off. I read that somewhere.”
“Why didn’t we do it before we got into bed in the first place?” Satoru buried his head in the crook of your neck, pouting, but taking a moment to press a little kiss onto your skin.
“Because you were acting as if you were dying of poison and eating me out was the antidote, so I forgot.” you giggled softly.
“Fine, fine,” your husband slowly rolled off of you in defeat. “Skincare routine, nothing more. Please don’t start trying to organize the bath towels.”
“I’m not making any promises,” you said, getting out of bed and following Satoru into the master bathroom.
There, you and your husband stood in front of the big mirror, cleansing and moisturizing your skin as you both chatted about his students, a movie you watched three days ago, and your breakfast plans in the morning.
And it was those sweet little moments that made Satoru’s heart skip a beat. As he flickered his eyes over to your reflection, watching your smother smooth white cream all over your face as you rambled on about a new egg recipe, he couldn’t help but think about how much he loved you.
—
6:00 A.M.
That night ended with soft sex and gentle kisses.
That morning, Satoru’s white eyelashes fluttered open to the early morning sun starting to rise, casting rays through the drawn window curtains and across his comforter.
He squinted his eyes and yawned.
Typically, he was the sort of man who would never wake up at the ungodly hour if he could help it, but the tantalizing aroma of fresh coffee and sizzling eggs had traveled from the kitchen downstairs to right underneath his nose.
Tossing on his blue houseboat, the grumpy-faced man dragged himself into the kitchen, greeting you with a slightly gruff morning voice and a messy head of hair.
“Good morning, baby,” Satoru walked around the kitchen island and loosely wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind. “How’d you sleep? I had a nightmare.”
With a spatula in one hand, you flipped the omelet in the skillet on the six-burner stove. With the other hand, you rubbed his arm, enjoying the warmth his hovering hug had brought.
“I slept alright,” you said. “Did the smell wake you up?”
“Always does,” he smiled lazily although you couldn’t see it.
“Well, your drink’s ready,” you gave a nod in the general direction of the silver espresso machine, which hummed as it brewed Satoru’s steamy beverage.
“I don’t deserve you,” Satoru’s arms hugged you tighter, and he showered the side of your head with kisses.
“Stop it,” your sweet laughter only egged him on as you clenched the spatula and leaned back against him even more. “No fooling around when we’re this close to the stove.”
Satoru eventually backed away after giving you one final kiss against your forehead temple.
“If all goes well, I should be back home tomorrow before dark, then we can check out that new restaurant. What do you say? I personally think it’s time for a date.”
The image of you and Satoru sipping on wine and as you wore your favorite dress flashed in your mind, and you smiled. A date night was certainly something to look forward to in light of Satoru’s overnight trip.
Sorcering duties had often taken him on distant work trips. Truth be told, you were lucky his departure would only last around twenty-four hours and not twenty-four days. Although you missed him whenever he would leave, you understood his choice of career. He was a hero.
You happened to be an ordinary human being. You couldn’t see curses. You couldn’t use cursed energy or cursed techniques, but you were fine with that.
“A date sounds fun! I’m excited now.” You took the omelet out of the skillet and placed it on a nearby plate. “And we’re making time to try out that new pottery class too. It sounds like such a cute date idea, don’t you think so?”
“I’m with you. I’ll make the reservations for the restaurant, you can schedule us for pottery-making.” This time, he was the one blissfully picturing you and him spinning messy clay with him sitting behind you and reaching around your body for the pottery wheel, your fingers intertwined as you both created a pot. Satoru smiled at the thought. “Anyway, now that you’re done cooking, can I kiss you?”
You nodded with a cheeky grin, and your husband pressed his lips against yours sweetly.
It was as if some part of him was frightened that he would never get the opportunity to kiss you again.
—
8:37 P.M.
The bright light far above your head flickered briefly as you stood in the pasta aisle at your local grocery store, but you hadn’t noticed it, too fixated on the different brands of spaghetti noodles lying on the shelf above you.
Shopping at night wasn’t preferable, but only after tossing together a simmering pan of sauce did you realize you hadn’t started boiling your noodles yet.
And, with your pot of simmering water ready, you opened the cabinet to see no noodles.
So, here you were, making a last-minute, unplanned trip to the grocery store.
By now, the only sort of pasta noodles left were the ones that a person of average height couldn’t reach. Every box was too high.
You turned your head to the left and to the right.
You even bothered to walk down a few aisles to search for an employee or anyone who might have been tall enough to reach your needed item, but the only other person staggering around was an older blonde-haired woman who was shorter than you were.
Frowning in frustration, you returned to the pasta aisle.
If you had to climb the shelves, so be it.
Suddenly, a kind voice spoke over the calming public-friendly background music playing softly in the store.
“Need some help?”
Whipping your head around, you saw a person — a taller person, thank goodness — who had a smile that was just as sweet as his voice.
“Yes, thank you!” You found that his grin was rather contagious, as you ended up smiling as well. “I just need the spaghetti noodles on the top shelf. Any brand will do.”
The beaming man with long, dark hair stepped forward, and you moved to the side, letting the apparent hero save your day.
He pulled down your desired spaghetti noodles with ease.
“Thanks for your help. My spaghetti sauce won’t go to waste now,” you said politely.
Your eyes darted up to the stitched scar across his forehead, then quickly, you glanced away.
“You’re welcome. Have a good night.”
The man walked down the aisle and left.
There was something familiar about him, oddly enough.
That hair . . . that smile . . .
He reminded you of an old, deceased friend of Satoru’s, one that you hadn’t ever met due to his villainous behavior before his death, but you had seen an old picture of him that he and your husband took during their second year at Jujutsu High, years ago.
As you placed the pasta noodles into your cart, making your way around different aisles to collect a few more items since you were already at the store, you decided that you’d take another look at that photograph once you arrived home, just for peace of mind.
The brown paper bag stuffed with groceries felt rather heavy as you walked down the street, which was brightened by light pouring out of the windows of local businesses that hadn’t yet closed.
You sighed softly.
The dark sky was sparkling with stars. The air was cool and comforting. Soon, you’d have pasta, and perhaps, you’d watch a few episodes of your favorite binge-worthy Netflix show.
If only Satoru was with you.
Chatting with him on the phone a few hours ago only made you miss him even more, but, at least his trip would be a quick one, and soon, you could have dinner with him and listen to his hilarious commentary as you watched television together.
After walking for around five minutes, you were no longer close to the local businesses that made you feel a sense of comfort during your evening stroll.
Now, you had to rely on the occasional streetlight to guide you home.
But that cold air was no longer comforting. It was a chilling breeze that made you clench your grocery bag a bit tighter.
Your footsteps suddenly halted — you could hear something moving in the nearby bushes.
Turning around, you were greeted with nothing but darkness and streetlights. No one else was with you. You kept walking.
However, something wasn’t right.
You might not have been a sorcerer, but you weren’t a fool.
And you had a gut-wrenching feeling that right now, as your wobbly legs guided you home, you were being watched.
You heard that noise again.
The grocery bag crinkled against your chest. You were certain that the bread you purchased was squished by now. If someone was following you, did you really want to unintentionally lead them to your home?
Where should you go? What should you do?
A tear rolled down your cheek from fear.
You were scared. You only wanted to go home, finish your pasta, and watch television.
You didn’t want to deal with such a potentially terrifying situation.
Pulling out your phone, you opened your dial screen.
Your trembling thumb hovered over the buttons, but before you could press anything, a black, disfigured curse appeared in front of you, screeching loudly enough to make you drop everything in your hands and cover your ears, more tears falling as the horrifying monster started to charge at you.
You tried to run in the other direction, but it was too late.
The last thing you saw before you were engulfed by darkness was that man from the grocery store standing on the sidewalk, that same sweet smile on his familiar face.
—
12:27 A.M.
Satoru’s eyes snapped open. He couldn’t remember falling asleep, as he had spent most of the night tossing and turning because you weren’t lying next to him. But, apparently, he did manage to catch a couple of hours of shut-eye.
When he awakened, there was a terrible ache in his heart. Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach, and beads of sweat decorated his forehead. His throat was dried to a crisp.
He was all alone in his dark hotel room.
He couldn’t hear you.
He couldn’t see you.
And yet, somehow, someway, thanks to his great power, he knew that his wife was calling for him.
—
The overwhelming scent of old, wet, musky wood and dust would never be forgotten by your memory. A lifetime of therapy would never be able to erase the paralyzing fear you felt, sitting on the cold, hard ground of an abandoned cabin with your hands bound behind your back.
Maybe the fear wasn’t completely paralyzing, though. Your body seemed to tremble with terror just fine.
The sight of it made Suguru Geto — no, Kenjaku chuckle.
He kept his eye on you for no other reason besides his entertainment, as watching you himself was pointless considering he had two frightening curses looming over you.
Once, Satoru shared a fun fact with you: regular human beings cannot see curses unless they are about to die.
That fact was certainly interesting when the two of you were strolling through the beautiful park, a red and white striped blanket in your hand and a picnic basket in his. But, now, that fact only made sweat drip off of your scarred forehead, because you could see the two, black, disfigured curses.
It was a telltale sign that you could die.
“I haven’t had the displeasure of meeting him myself,” Kenjaku suddenly spoke, relaxing in a chair he had positioned a few feet away from the corner you were trapped in. “But I have seen memories of Satoru Gojo that belonged to this body I’ve inhabited. And, I must say, I couldn’t imagine that his wife would be such a weakling. It’s truly pathetic.”
Even if you wanted to reply to him, fear had snatched away your ability to speak. It created a lump in your throat that couldn’t be swallowed down.
“My best guess is that he needs someone boring and ordinary in his life to keep house while he’s busy saving the world. You’re just the cook and maid with a ring on her finger, hm?”
“He loves me.”
Your voice was small — it was a painfully perfect reflection of how you felt on the inside. Weak and pathetic.
“Oh?” Kenjaku raised his eyebrows, smiling slightly. “Believe it or not, I hope you’re right, or else kidnapping you was a waste of time.”
Your chains rattled as you shifted in your spot on the floor, scooting as far into the corner as you could get. An ache shot up your spine from the wall pressing into your back. Pulling your knees to your chest, more tears slipped from your eyes.
“Aw, don’t cry,” he falsely cooed. “Surely you’ve wondered why the world’s strongest sorcerer would settle for someone who forgets to double-check all of their ingredients before they start cooking, haven’t you? It’s not because of love, or anything of the sort. It’s because those who are deeply insecure would do anything to please anyone who looks their way. Only an ordinary, desperate housewife with low self-esteem and no ambition would waste time caring for a man who risks his life saving strangers. What would make you think he cares for you when he spends more time with curses than his own wife? Helping strangers more than his own family? Think about it.”
Kenjaku’s hurtful words were met with silence, but he didn’t stop speaking.
“I bet you’re nothing but a burden to him. Someone like him probably hates being tied down, but marrying a fool who contributes nothing to society is the only way he can get someone else to handle his laundry while he’s busy working hard, hm? He must carry around divorce papers, ready to serve them to you the day you forget to buy detergent from the grocery store.” Kenjaku’s smile brightened. “Oh, that reminds me. You dropped your detergent and other groceries on the road earlier, by the way. Looks like you’re useless now.”
“You . . .” your teary eyes flickered from him to the hovering curses. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. None of that’s true.”
“You have to believe that I’m speaking honestly, Y/N.” Kenjaku sighed with fake sincerity. “My entire plan rests on the hope that Satoru Gojo is foolish enough to try to rescue you. You see, when you want to lure someone out, the proper way to do it is by discovering their weaknesses. When I found out about you, I was hoping that you would be his weakness. That I could use you to lure him out. Then I met you, and, well, you’re simply disappointing. Sorry to break it to you, but I have memories of the old conversations Satoru used to have with Suguru, and being tied down to a powerless housewife was certainly not how he imagined his future. But, I figured I’d try anyway, and so here you are, and he’s not here to rescue you. What a shame. I bet he’s hoping I’ll kill you so he’ll be free.”
He was lying. He had to be. Satoru loved you more than anything . . . right?
The thought had crossed your mind before; why did Satoru want to be with someone powerless? And this villain’s plan to lure out your husband relied on his hope that he’d come to rescue you out of love, so how would it benefit him to convince you Satoru didn’t love you?
Maybe he was right.
After all, if Satoru cared for you, he would have saved you by now. Where was he?
You couldn’t help but cry even harder.
“Please let me go home,” your tears clouded your vision. “Please let me go.”
“Well, you should know that I hate wasting time,” Kenjaku rested his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow pressing into the arm of the chair he sat in. “I can’t let you leave. I won’t let the effort I put into kidnapping you be a total waste.”
Kenjaku’s smile widened, and suddenly, the curses started to move towards you.
—
1:45 A.M.
The subway station was isolated. No ordinary human beings were lurking around, and Satoru was relieved. Right now, he’d kill anyone who looked at him the wrong way.
His shoes gently shuffled against the ground as he made his way into the middle of the big, bright opening, and he clenched his fists, his nails digging into the skin of his palm, hard enough to draw blood.
Two special grade cursed spirits emerged. He recognized them both from a previous fight in the woods.
Volcano head. Asparagus.
“Satoru Gojo,” Jogo suddenly said. “We didn’t think you’d be foolish enough to-”
“Where is my wife?”
When Satoru interrupted the curse, his voice was low. Dark. Startling.
Blood dripped from his palms and splattered onto the ground.
“I was drawn here, but she isn’t here, is she? Where is she? Tell me now, and I’ll kill you quickly instead of slowly.”
Jogo chuckled a bit. Satoru dug his nails into his palm even more.
“Bring us the vessel, Yuji Itadori, and we’ll return that worthless-”
The two curses didn’t have time to blink — weren’t able to register in their minds that Satoru had moved from his previous spot until Jogo was lifted off of the ground and thrown into the flickering light fixture above, shattering it and causing sparks to rain down onto the ground below, where he then fell.
Satoru stepped on Jogo’s head, squishing it underneath his black shoe.
“I remember you. You’re stubborn, right?” Satoru gritted his teeth. “Who the hell do you think you are to take her from me? Whoever you work for must want you dead if they’re stupid enough to send you on a suicide mission. You think I’ll let you leave here alive after this?”
“If you kill us, you’ll never see her again,” the other cursed spirit, Hanami, suddenly spoke up. “Bring us the vessel, and she lives.”
When Satoru suddenly stopped moving, it was only to ensure that he had heard the cursed spirit correctly.
“Did you just threaten . . .” Satoru removed his blindfold, “to kill my wife?”
It was only a matter of time before the branches attached to Hanami’s head were ripped out, and Jogo was beheaded. The subway was reduced to nothing except crumbling walls and darkness. While the cursed spirits were teetering dangerously between life and death, there wasn’t a scratch on Satoru. Instead, there was a smile.
This was simply the consequence of their actions. This was what happened to anyone who laid a hand on his girl.
Hanami’s body was on the brink of collapse as it was forced to come in contact with Satoru’s cursed technique — a blue shield-like piece of infinity that distorted and manipulated both time and space, protecting the sorcerer from attacks and rendering Hanami powerless.
Hanami’s eyes darted over to their beheaded ally — they couldn’t help him.
“I’m going to ask you one last time,” Satoru’s eyes widened. His smile grew. He slowly turned, facing Hanami, and blasted him back against the nearest wall without lifting a finger. “Where is my wife?”
—
2:39 A.M.
Kenjaku had never understood the concept of love, and, perhaps, that was why he failed.
Satoru’s love for you was his weakness, that was true, but it also turned out to be his greatest strength, and this was a fight Kenjaku couldn’t win.
Not today.
One of his curses, which had been traveling to and fro to observe what was currently taking place in the subway station and reporting it back to Kenjaku, had informed him that Jogo and Hanami were on the brink of death.
He couldn’t lose them yet. They were too powerful, and he needed their help for his future plans.
Kenjaku left the cabin, taking his curses with him.
And, without their cursed energy purposely making it difficult for Satoru to find you, he was able to pinpoint your exact location.
It appeared in his powerful mind as he was ripping Hanami apart limb by limb, and he wasn’t a fool. He didn’t know who was behind all of this, but it was clear that the mastermind had suddenly decided to let your whereabouts be tracked down in order to save Hanami and Jogo.
He didn’t want to make that deal. He wanted to kill these two, bring them back to life, and kill them over again. Their pain brought him joy, all because they took part in your capture.
But Satoru didn’t want his bloodlust to backfire. After all, if he killed the cursed spirits now, the person who held you captive could change their mind and move you someplace else and hide your location yet again, or, worse — they could kill you.
That wasn’t a chance he was willing to take.
Satoru stopped using his technique. But, as he left the subway station, he promised himself that eventually, he would kill those two. He would kill anyone and everyone involved.
But you came first.
You would always come first.
—
He found you.
When Satoru kicked open the door belonging to a raggedy, abandoned cabin, the scent of blood overwhelmed him. It dirtied his boots as he kneeled by your side. Your unconscious, bleeding body was lying there, simply left on the ground as if you were nothing.
“Y/N . . .” Satoru called out breathlessly.
He took the chains off of you instantly, his bloodshot eyes darting over every gaping wound.
It was indescribable — the anger he felt. He wanted to return to the subway and finish off those cursed spirits, to make them suffer and suffer and suffer.
But tending to you took priority right now. Satoru scooped up your broken and bruised body, holding you as softly as he could. A tear fell from his eye, splattering against your cheek.
“I’ve got you, it’s okay,” he spoke gently.
Your eyelids fluttered as you awakened. An overwhelming sense of pain slammed into you once you regained consciousness, and hot tears streamed down your cheeks. Prior to this, the only pain you had ever known was the wholesome body ache from tripping and falling while playing outside with your friends as a child. But this level of misery took away your ability to speak. Left you wondering if you were going to die.
You could make out stains of your blood on Satoru’s clothes.
Even so, you could tell based on the pained look on his face that he was suffering even more just from seeing you in such a condition.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he mumbled, slowly getting off the ground as he carried you. “This is all my fault. They did this to you because of me. I’m so sorry.”
Satoru raised you a bit, gently pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.
He’d give anything to switch places with you right now — to be the one in unspeakable pain. Why couldn’t they have kidnapped him? Tortured him? If he had the power to take away your suffering and give it to himself, he would. For you, not only would he kill, but he’d die, repeatedly and without a second thought or a moment of hesitation.
As Satoru took you to the nearest hospital, his tears spilling onto your body, he said, “We’re almost there, okay? I promise I’ll make them pay for this, and no one will ever lay a hand on you again.”
Arriving into the uncomforting white halls of the emergency room, Satoru handed you off to the nurses and doctors who rushed up to him. But, before they placed you on the nearest stretcher, Satoru kissed your forehead once again as unconsciousness claimed you, and he whispered, “I love you, Y/N.”
—
10:02 A.M.
Two days later, you awakened in a hospital bed. This time, pain didn’t greet you, but grogginess and blurred vision. The gentle beeps from the nearby machines certainly didn’t help your pounding headache.
Your sight started to clear up after blinking a few times.
Soft strands of hair tickled your arm, and when you looked to your left, you saw Satoru slumped in a chair, his head resting in his arms on the side of your bed. You reached over and ruffled his messy white hair a bit.
He shot up, startled. His blue eyes were wide with alarm, then they softened with gratefulness, but, lastly, they darted down with sorrow.
“Y/N . . . thank god, you’re awake.” Satoru croaked out in his morning voice, clearing his throat a bit. He was dehydrated — too focused on your recovery to worry about himself. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so . . .”
Satoru got out of his chair, sat on the side of your bed, and leaned over, resting the side of his head against your chest.
“I’m so sorry,” he repeated.
“It’s not your fault,” you mumbled weakly. “It’s mine.”
Satoru pulled his head away from you, staring at you with furrowed brows and a confused gaze.
“What? No, it’s not.”
You couldn’t find the courage to look him in the eye. Kenjaku’s words replayed in your mind. They hurt just as much as getting attacked by curses.
As if reading your thoughts, Satoru cupped your chin, turning your head back in his direction.
“Look at me,” he said. “What happened wasn’t your fault. I know what you’re thinking, and I don’t care if you can’t fight curses-”
“You’re just saying that . . . because I’m kinda useful to you. But I’m easily replaceable. Speaking honestly, I’m a burden. You had to come save my life, and put yourself in danger. I’m not worth it.”
“You think I married you because you’re useful?” Hurt flashed in Satoru’s piercing eyes. “I’m in love with you, and you’ll never be a burden. I don’t care if you can’t fight curses. You’re my wife for a reason, and that’s because there’s nothing greater than seeing you get excited over finding your favorite snack at the grocery store or seeing the way you smile when your favorite scene from a show comes on, and you sit there and watch it as if you haven't seen it a thousand times. I love the way your eyes light up when you find a new activity in town for us to try, or a new book to read, or a new recipe. God, I just . . . I love you. I love you more than anything. I don’t know how you’re able to put up with someone like me. Every day I wonder how I got so lucky because I don’t deserve you. You’re too good for me, and I haven’t met anyone as loving as you are. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Do you understand me? I’d kill and die for you.”
Satoru gently wiped away the tear that fell from your eyes with his thumb.
“I love you too,” you smiled softly, leaning into his touch. “I’m sorry we missed our dinner reservations and the pottery class.”
Satoru couldn’t help but lean in and kiss your cheek.
“I’ve already rescheduled two weeks out.”
Moving away from your cheek, your husband softly kissed your lips. And while he had spent time rescheduling your date night and making sure you were receiving the excellent care you deserved while in the hospital, he was also hard at work, tracking down the monsters that dared to lay a hand on you.
He would make them suffer.
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˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖙𝖞𝖕𝖊 :: smau ( crack SFW )
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Lover
after years of being in fandoms, has anyone gone from being super strict about ships (physically shuddering when a character is shipped with someone other than who you ship them with) to becoming a very chill multishipper? like, you think everyone should just date each other now and are just cool with everything? is it just me?
i just. i just think katsuki would be the absolute best boyfriend in the world.
but at the same time… like.. it’s gonna take a fat minute to get to that point. my katsuki and reader are always gonna have the dynamic of she fell first and hard but he fell absolutely harder. like face smashed into the ground, concrete cracked beneath his body, harder.
your story was never mutual love at first sight, no. you fell first. the kind of fall that leaves you breathless and stumbling, but still willing to get up and run straight toward him again.
you admired katsuki in every way imaginable. his strength, his drive, the way he never wavered even when the whole world seemed to be against him. your admiration turned into something deeper, something that made your heart squeeze and stomach flip. and you didn’t bother hiding your crush.
why should you? why would you ever keep your adoration for the man you loved a secret?
so you let it show. you gravitated towards him during class breaks, in the little favors you did for him without him asking, in the shameless way you told him over and over again that you liked him.
but back then, katsuki was an idiot.
a dumbass so hyper-focused on hero training and his own ambitions that he barely spared a thought for anything else. he knew you had a crush on him- how could he not? but at the time, he equated it to nothing more than annoying persistence. some stalkerish, over eager need to be by his side.
and oh, how he wants to throttle his past self for thinking this way.
because somewhere along the line, after countless battles, after seeing you at your highest highs and lowest lows, after realizing that no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t shake you off- he started to not mind your presence.
then he started looking for it.
started craving it.
and like that, he fell.
only by the time he realized it, you weren’t the one constantly chasing anymore.
now it was him hovering near you at all times, subtly making excuses to be closer. he stole glances, catching himself staring at your hands and wondering what it would be like to just hold them.
and when you finally got together, when it turned into something real, katsuki was left fumbling into unfamiliar territory.
because he had no experience being this stupidly and sickeningly in love.
was he doing this right? was he too much? was he not enough? what the hell did a girl like you see in him?
and most of all, were his hands too damn clammy to be holding yours right now?
but then you squeeze his hand. and he squeezes yours back.
and just like that, all his doubts settle. because you’re his person. and he’s yours.
but yeah anyways lovesick reader and even more lovesick katsuki on top
authors note: hello. with this new season of demon slayer i felt inspired. lemme know if you guys want more. i sort of went a little crazy with tengen's and hotaru's little stories. ENJOY!
cw: lots of death talk in hotaru's part, maybe slightly suggestive, not proofread
wc: 5k
click here for my masterlist
Giyu hides his jealousy way too well. You two had worked together for a very long time. The first few months of knowing him you didn’t even know if he knew your name let alone that you existed to him. He was not very open so you left him alone the best you could. That was until one day you were eating peacefully and he came and sat next to you. You were stunned, your chewing paused as you slowly looked over at him. He was sitting cross legged beside you, quietly opening his wrapped food. When he noticed you looking he paused and met your eyes.
“Hm?” He hummed, as though he sat next to you all the time. As though you two had said more than three words to each other in months. You didn’t want to scare him off so you just gently shook your head.
“Nothing.” You answered, looking back down at your food, swallowing nervously. Giyu returned his look to his food and out of the corner of your eyes you saw him pause.
“Are you… friendly with Sanemi?” He asked. You furrowed your brow, chancing a glance at him. He met your eyes with a curious stare.
“Sanemi?” You repeated. He nodded his head once. You purse your lips. You were friendly with all the hashira’s except him but you didn’t think that was exactly what he was asking. Well to be honest you weren’t really sure what he was asking so you decided to play it safe.
“Hmm… yes. He’s a friend.” You answer. His face doesn’t reveal anything as he nods his head again, looking back at his food. You wonder if you answered correctly as he suddenly pulls out a little white sweets box. The very same sweets that you would buy as a treat for yourself after missions.
“Just a friend?” He asks as you nod your head, blushing slightly. Giyu looks relieved and hands the sweets over to you without a word.
“Oh… for me?” You ask and he nods his head. When you reach to take it your hands brush and you swear his cheeks pinken.
-
You didn’t think Mitsuri ever got jealous until a few years into your relationship. You two often had missions together which meant you also had time off at the same time. Hiking to the swordsmith village to relax. After settling in you two hit the kitchen. The only thing that could rival your love for each other was your love for food. There were a few other hashira’s around and when you couldn’t pop a jar open you handed it over, sighing, to the closest person, which wasn’t your girlfriend. Shinobu popped it open for you and you continued to help prep the food. That’s when you noticed Mitsuri pouting and when you met her eyes she blushed and looked away embarrassed, returning to helping prepare food. You didn’t think much about it but at dinner she was quiet. You wanted to ask if something was wrong but you didn’t want to embarrass her in front of the other hashira’s so you waited until you two were headed back to your shared cabin. Once out of ear shot you reached and tucked her hair behind her ear so you were able to see her face.
“Is something wrong?” You asked, still blushing she shrugged it off, shaking her head.
“No… nothing’s wrong, dear.” She answered quickly. It was an obvious lie.
“Did someone say something to you? To make you upset?”
“No… it’s… nothing important.” She said with a soft shake of her head, like she was trying to trick herself into forgetting about it. You laced your fingers with hers.
“If you're upset then it’s important. Come on, just tell me.” You prodded gently. She gave a little sigh and you could tell she was a little embarrassed but still she opened up to you.
“I’m strong… you know,” She starts, wearily looking over at you.
“I know that.”
“I can open things. Lift things…. You know, you don’t need anyone else to do that kind of stuff.” Slowly you nodded your head, trying to understand what she was saying. “I just wanted you to know that.” You gave her hand a gentle squeeze and that’s when it hit you. You absentmindedly let someone open a jar for you. It really was a small thing but you knew Mitsuri liked to be strong for you. You turned to hide your smile, you pulled her hand to your lips and kissed her knuckles. “That… reminds me, honey, I’m exhausted…” “You want me to carry you?” She asks excitedly as you softly laughed, nodding your head. MItsuri sweeps you off your feet with ease and you can tell she’s forgotten all about being upset.
-
Obanai doesn’t necessarily get jealous, it's more of a territorial thing. You thought for sure he hated you, little did you know he worshiped you from the start. Sometimes you’d have missions with him and he'd speak about three words to you and sometimes when you were lucky he’d speak full sentences. You didn’t know until later on it was because he was so damn nervous around you. On this particular mission, after slaying the demon, you two went out for drinks. It was wholly awkward so you excused yourself from the table and found your way to the bar. The bartender thanked you for helping with the demon and it felt nice to talk with someone. This whole thing played out for maybe two minutes before the bartender froze, eyes fearful as he glanced behind you. You furrowed your brows and turned as Obanai approached.
“We received another mission, we should get going.” He says as you sigh, nodding your head, he placed some money on the counter for your drinks.
“T-the drinks are on the house.” The bartender offered but Obanai just slid the money over, his eyes sharpening. You watched the whole thing, sort of speechless. When you followed him out he held the door open for you and gave one more heated glance at the bartender. The village you two were currently stationed at was quiet and peaceful.
“Where are we headed next?” You asked as you fell into step with him.
“A few towns over.” He answered and you nodded your head, knowing that was just about as much talking you're probably getting out of him tonight. “Unless you wanted to stay.”
“Stay here?” You asked, he was walking a few steps ahead of you. He didn’t answer. “I wouldn’t have minded having a few more drinks.” You joked.
“With that bartender?” He added and you didn’t miss the bitterness in his voice. You paused, deciding whatever you said next you had to tread lightly. You could tease him or you could clear things up.
“At least he talks to me.” You said. He stopped, turning to face you.
“Anything enlightening?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You said and he raised his head just slightly.
“I would.”
“I’m joking, he was just thanking us for taking care of that demon.” You said truthfully as Obanai nodded his head, turning away from you as you walked. You didn’t want the conversation to end. Even though you two never talked much before you found yourself wanting to hear more of his voice, wanting more of his attention. Unwittingly you had all of his attention most of the time. You couldn’t think of anything to say.
“You make me nervous,” Obanai says over his shoulder. “That’s why I don’t talk much.”
“Oh,” You were stunned. He turned to face you again and you gave him a soft smile, you wanted him to feel comfortable with you. “Is it because I talk too much?” You ask. Obanai instantly shakes his head ‘no’.
“Don’t stop. I like the sound of your voice.” It almost sounded like a plea.
-
Sanemi lets it be known he’s jealous, he doesn’t care to hide it. Someone’s talking with you, smiling and laughing a bit too much with you? There’s Sanemi saddling up beside you, hand sliding around you to rest on your hip as he pulls you a bit closer to him. He’s shameless. When he first met you, you were in training to be a hashira under Tengen and Sanemi would watch your workouts sometimes. He’d always watch with this sort of intense expression and sometimes it caught you off guard and distracted you. In those moments Tengen would take you to the floor, huffing.
“I’m going to ban him from our training sessions if you can’t focus.” Tengen said, he straddled you, pressing you into the dirt as you cleared your throat.
“I’m so sorry sir, it won’t happen again.” And at least for the rest of practice that day you kept your eyes on your teacher. But after Tengen was finished with you he ruffled your hair.
“You’re a force to be reckoned with if you keep your eyes off the wind hashira.” He said and you turned bright red, unable to chirp back at him so he laughs heartily and waves as he leaves. You sigh, turning as Sanemi grabs a practice sword. You watch as he swings it around before pointing it towards you.
“Tengen’s a handsy guy. Already has three wives but watch out and you’ll be his fourth.” Sanemi stated dryly. You were exhausted from training and the way Sanemi moved closer to you you wondered if he was wanting to train you a bit himself. Sanemi circles you like a predator. You feel his eyes on every part of your body as you swallow dryly. When he walked back around the front he tossed you the sword and you caught it with ease. He grabbed a sword himself.
“I… am exhausted, Sanemi.” You huffed and he gave you a heated look.
“One round.” He points the tip at you. You swallowed down a sigh and pointed your sword right back at him. You weren’t bad by any means but you weren’t even close to the level of a hashira. Sanemi worked around your blade with practiced ease and you realized right there and then that Tengen was certainly going easy on you because Sanemi had backed you up in seconds and took you to the ground. He pressed himself against you, his sword against your neck. Your eyes glared up at him.
“Alright you won, can I go rest now?”
“Has that lousy sound hashira taught you anything?” Sanemi questions. He was obsessed with this. He saw the look on your face. “Ditch him, I’ll teach you from now on.”
“I’m not doing that. Tengen is a good teacher.” You defended. Sanemi pulled the sword away from your neck and with swiftness pulled you to your feet. He doesn’t let go of your hand though and the closeness to him has your heart beating wildly in your chest.
“I’m better.” He says as though it's a well known fact. You wondered what his motives were and what his grudge was against Tengen.
“What’s this about?” You ask and watch his eyes leave yours as he shamelessly looks at your lips, scanning what he wanted to before meeting your eyes again. This simple act wreaked havoc on your systems.
“I think it’s pretty clear, I want to teach you myself.”
“Why though?”
“Tengen doesn’t deserve to. That’s why.” He pulls you to him suddenly. “Do you understand?” His voice was low and soft, eyes searching. He was trying to tell you something with his eyes. He sighed, you guessed he needed to be more clear with his intentions so he gave a small shake of the head and dipped his head to meet your lips with his. You sucked in a breath as he kissed you hard enough to prove his point. You understood now, albeit a little late.
-
Rengoku’s jealousy is healthy. He trusts you fully but doesn’t trust anyone who would come up and flirt with you when he’s right there. A lot of people come up and talk with you and you're completely oblivious to their flirting so Rengoku will intervene to save you. On your very first date the waiter at the noodle place you two were at flirted with you practically the entire time. Rengoku didn’t get angry, in fact it made him smile that no matter how much flirting was being done you’d still be leaving this restaurant with him. But the moment the waiter stepped over the line and made you clearly uncomfortable Rengoku cleared his throat. He didn’t yell or make a scene, he just simply gave the waiter a fiery glare. The waiter was gone within seconds. You looked at your date, giving him a knowing and thankful smile.
The only time jealousy fully got under his skin was when he came back from a long mission and caught sight of you eating lunch in the courtyard with Giyu. He felt his cheeks burn at the sight. One thing Rengoku loved just slightly less than you was food. And what he loved more about it was eating it next to you. But here you were, eating it next to someone else. Sure it was childish but logic never really came into play when jealousy took over. When you walked back to your shared room and caught sight of his red hair your face completely morphed into light as you sprinted across the room and slammed against him in a bone crushing hug. He’d been gone for at least two months and it was almost unbearable.Rengoku, despite pouting slightly, wrapped you in a hug with the same vigor, breathing in your scent. You two stayed like that for a long moment.
“I missed you. When did you get back?” You asked, muffled against his chest.
“About an hour ago.” You pulled back at that, looking up at him. He wanted to mope but the moment your eyes met his smile so wide fitted to his lips.
“An hour?” You asked. “Why didn’t you come find me?”
“I saw you eating with Giyu, just didn’t want to bother you.” He says and knows he was being silly earlier. But being apart from you for two months had made him weary and heartsick for you.
“You could never bother me. Never.” You doubled down, pulling his face to yours, proving your point with a kiss. He mumbled an apology against your lips before you smiled into the kiss. When you pulled back you slightly smirked up at him. “Was that jealousy?” You asked as his entire face went beet red and you knew you were right. You tilted your head to the side. “Kyojuro…”
“I’m sorry,” He says, tightening his hold around you. “We’ve been apart far too long.”
-
Tengen also hides his jealousy pretty well but hides it behind jokes. You could not stand him when you first met. You were nothing like him. Liked the quiet, liked the dark, liked your solitude. Tengen on the hand liked you. He liked how quiet you were and wanted to diminish the dark for you and snatch away your solitude. You liked your personal space and he also liked your personal space.
You grew up an only child with cold parents in a depressing town so when you met Tengen and he was flashy and warm, naturally you sulked away from him. He tried everything. He bought you your favorite sweets and relished when you’d give him the smallest of smiles that looked more like a grimace but he’d take what he can get. He’d find you books to read and insist that you read it to him in return and when you begrudgingly agreed he’d melt into a puddle and sit as close as humanly possible. And when he’d pretend to fall asleep on your shoulder he really felt as though he could combust.
He’d never chased after someone so hard.
You were so elusive, just out of reach. When you met his wives they all adored you in the same way he did. It scared him though, you weren’t one to put yourself out there. You didn’t like many people and being with Tengen meant you’d be with four people at all times. Though the times that you were around and happened to run into him and his wives you didn’t seem overwhelmed. In fact the first time he saw you actually smile, like eyes crinkling cheeks blushing smile was when Hinatsuru pulled you into a hug and told you how pretty you looked. The only jealousy he felt then and there was not being able to have that smile directed at him. But after seeing that smile he finally realized it was possible to make you smile so let the teasing begin. Suddenly Tengen was around all the time. You didn’t notice it at first but suddenly he was everywhere. Teasing you, overtly flirting with you, towering over you and trying so damn hard to make you blush and smile the way his wife did.
It was exhausting for you. All this attention. What was even more exhausting is pretending that you didn’t want Tengen. There was a war within you. Wanting to be alone and wishing to never be alone again. Tengen and his life was the polar opposite of yours. Everything you couldn’t stand but found wanting to tolerate, wanting that shine in your darkness. Things all came to a head when you were at a fork in the road. Tagging along Tengen’s mission versus Giyu’s. To you it was an obvious choice. Tagging along with Giyu meant not really having to talk the entire time. And when you told Tengen things spiraled.
“So you got a thing for the quiet ones? Should’ve known.” He teased with this sort of practiced ease. He looked wholly unaffected by your decision.
“I don’t have a thing for anyone.” You corrected, you had been cleaning your katana when he found his way into your room somehow without your objections. Maybe it was all the time that you were spending with him things were just slowly becoming comfortable?
“You’re breaking my heart, sunshine.” If looks could kill Tengen would be long long dead. It wasn’t the first time he called you that nickname and it certainly would not be the last. Unfortunately.
“I’m very busy, you know.”
“Busy thinking of your mission with the stoic Giyu?” He teased and you breathed in and let out a huff of air.
“You are relentless. Is there something you want to say?” You ask over your shoulder. He’s uncharacteristically quiet behind you so you turn just slightly. Tengen is looking at you in the same way he’d been looking at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Tengen looked at you as though the light only shined on earth because you held the sun in place. You looked away and begrudgingly ignored that flip in your chest.
“You like him better than me.” And… he’s back to teasing. Well two can play that game.
“Yes I do.” You answered bluntly.
“Now you’re really killing me, Sun-”
“Nope. No nicknames. I’m not a pet.” He laughed at that, a warm laugh that you didn’t know how badly you wanted to hear again.
“I bet he isn’t able to get under your skin like I do.”
“You’re right.” You said and heard Tengen stand from where he was sitting. You go slightly rigid as you feel him walk closer to where you’re standing. He barely brushes against you as he looks over your shoulder. You try to continue to work like this was unaffecting you but your walls were slowly crumbling around you. There was only so long you could pretend you didn’t want a good thing. And Tengen was sure as hell a good thing.
“Giyu’s quiet. You won’t have an ounce of fun on his mission.”
“Killing demon’s isn’t supposed to be fun.” You throw back and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he responds.
“It is with me.” You roll your eyes and turn to tell him to get lost but when you turn and look up your faces are millimeters apart. Maybe even less. Your words falter and for a moment all you can think of is if you moved just barely forwards your lips would meet his. “Cat got your tongue?” He said huskily just loud enough for you to hear. It turns your insides out, burning you up from head to toe. You wanted to ask what he really wanted but it would ultimately be a stupid question. Tengen had never hidden his intentions from the start. Only you had. He pointedly moved his eyes to your lips but didn’t move any closer. You knew then and there he was practically handing over the reigns. If you wanted him you’d have to make the next move. You had a penchant for letting things pass you by. It was like you were begrudgingly obsessed with not letting yourself have anything. Love never seemed like something attainable. Friendship seemed like a lot of work and family never felt like family. “I’ll wait forever, if that’s what you want.” He whispered, interrupting your thoughts. Your heart hurts at that. You weren’t being fair. Making him wait forever was a selfish thing to do and even with all those things he still looked one hundred percent serious when he said it. He wouldn’t get tired of you. He could be the one to stick around for good. He could be the good.
“I”m still going with Giyu. I already promised.” You said.
“Break the promise, Sunshine, I’m practically begging.” As his face slightly dropped you leaned forwards and closed that gap that you had gotten far too comfortable with. Lips sliding against lips.
-
Hotaru was downright scary when he was jealous. Holy shit you were scared out of your mind. Your destroyed blade laid in pieces in front of you. Your heart was in your throat. You felt a hand on your shoulder as Rengoku gave you a reassuring squeeze.
“Tough break, kid.” He said with a shake of his head. “I’m sure he’ll understand.”
“The last time I broke my blade he yelled and ranted for three hours and passed out from lightheadedness.” You said, remembering the whole ordeal with a shiver. Rengoku shook his head.
“Your blade broke for a noble cause, make sure to tell him that.” He said, giving you one last squeeze before turning to leave. You bent over and grabbed the shattered remains. You were dead. Dead dead dead. You had so much life to live. You had sweets in the fridge that Mitsuri made for you. You had finally learned a few new cool tricks to use in fighting. You were visiting home next month. You sighed, gathering up the broken pieces in a cloth.
“I will pay you double… no triple the usual amount, please I beg you.” You had your hands clasped together in front of you as though silent praying. The night before last you had an idea. There was more than just Hotaru that could make you a blade in the village so if you enlisted someone else to make you a sword just this one time Hotaru wouldn’t lob your head off your shoulders.
“Mr. Haganezuka would kill me, bring me back to life then kill me again if I made a sword for you.” The villager trembled at the mere thought. He was clearly just as afraid of Hotaru as you were. You swallowed dryly.
“He would never know, please I beg you.I’ll give you any amount.” You begged but the villager just shook his head.
“He would know because it’s you. Any other client I might do it but you… absolutely not. You’re his favorite!” He said, looking over your shoulder as though Hotaru would enter his shop at any second.
“What does that mean! The only people that would know would be me and you! Please I will literally do anything!”
“And me.” A voice behind you says. Your blood goes cold. Slowly you turn around and sure enough there’s Hotaru. You’re caught like a deer in headlights. The villager actually screams and scrambles away, startling you. Hotaru’s expressions are hidden behind his mask so you’re not sure whether or not he’s angry quite yet. You’d seen his face once a few years ago when this peaceful village was attacked. You were surprised in the moment that someone so intense could look so beautiful. That didn’t dull that fact he was scary though.
“Mr. Haganezuka! W-what a surprise!” You choke out, cheeks going fuchsia. “Lovely weather we’re having today isn’t it?” You squeak out. Hotaru slightly moves his head and you force yourself not to bolt out the door screaming like the villager. You’re a hashira for god sakes! But to be completely truthful, Hotaru was scarier than any demon you’d ever faced.
“Very lovely. What brings to our village?” He asks, his voice scarily calm. You force yourself to give a terse smile.
“I- I came to relax of course!”
“Relax at my competitor's shop?” He asks and there is a sharp edge to his voice.
“Competitor? Wha? I didn’t-- I did not know you two were competing!” You nervously laughed it off, running a quick hand through your hair. “We-- we go way back. I was just visiting for a second before hitting the hot springs!” You say and start to walk towards the door but Hotaru’s hand juts out, blocking you from leaving. You freeze, you’re so close to him, he towers over you and when he turns to look down at you you feel weak in the knees. Slowly he brings his hand up, untying the back of his mask as it falls into his waiting hand and you’re met face to face with Hotaru once again. The years had passed but he still looked as beautiful as ever. You definitely make a sound, a strangled gasp, though if it was from fear or surprise no one would ever know.
“You… two… go way back?” He grits out. God… you’d done it now. You should’ve just went to him in the first place, accepted his scolding and went about your week. But here you were, ten feet under and you weren’t even sure after this debacle if he’d fix your sword for any amount of money. You cleared your throat.
“Uhm… y-yes?”
“Yes?” He repeated and the look on his face was as sharp as the sharpest katana. You were so dead. Goodbye family. Goodbye sweet treats.
“How… far back?” He asks. You stare at him. How far back? He caught you in the lie and you wished instead of twenty questions he’d just yell at you.
“Just like… a year.” You lied, Hotaru’s eyes narrowed on yours. The intense eye contact was insane. You almost forgot to breathe.
“You’ve known me longer than.” He articulates sharply. Your lips part, you're stumped for a moment.
“Uh… y-yes, sir, I have.” You stumble.
“Yet instead of coming to me, who you’ve known far longer, you go to my competitor to fix the sword that I made you.” Ah fuck. The color absolutely drained from your face.
“What?” You shook your head. “N-nuh uh! I-- I was just visiting like I said.” At the end of your sentence he holds up the cloth that had the broken pieces of your sword. You patted your bag and gasped. How the hell did he get that! “It-- that-- It’s not what it looks like, Mr. Hagenzuka! I-- well you see it broke… honorably of course… and I was coming to you-” Hotaru raised his hand to silence you and you instantly stopped talking. This was it. This was the end. Killed by your swordsmith. If you were quick you could probably wrestle back a piece of your katana and end your life before he could.
“If you ever break your sword again,” Hotaru practically growled.”And go to my competitor, I will-”
“Kill me?” You filled in.
“Kill him.” He fumed and then he reached for you. God he was gonna choke you out! His hand slid against your cheek and when he leaned in you sent out a final goodbye.
His lips met yours. His lips. Pressed against your lips. He was kissing you. Kissing? You? Your eyes were wide open. You had watched the whole thing in slow motion. Sure enough the moment heated as he stepped a bit closer to you, hand sliding around your hip to yank you a step closer to him. The most startling thing? The heat that suddenly ignited in your gut at the press of his mouth on yours. You made a startled sound in the back of your throat at the strange realization. What the hell was happening? When he pulled back your eyes were still open. Looking up at him as though he’d just smacked you right across the face.
“You… just kissed me.” You say. He doesn’t answer you with words, just nods his head, still looking pissed. “On the lips.”
“Yes.” He says sharply.
“Like lips on my lips.” “I’m aware of what I did.” Hotaru groans, looking down at you.
“Am I dead?” You asked, patting yourself for any life threatening wounds, Hotaru watches you, looking unamused.
“No. You are not dead.” “I… was dead sure you… were going to murder me. Like… bloody murder.”
“Why in the world would I murder you?” Hotaru asks, crossing his arms.
“B-because you… because I broke my sword and schemed to fix it behind your back with your competitor.” You say slowly as though he doesn’t remember the last ten minutes. But he just looks down at you like you’re saying something incredibly apparent.
“Yes. I know.” He growls but his anger doesn’t necessarily seem directed at you as he sighs heavily.
“I am… very… confused.” You force out. Your brain felt melted in your head. Hotaru looks down at you and for a moment so quick you could’ve missed it his eyes look… soft? No… that had to be a trick of the lights.
“You’re my client. No one else’s. Got it?” He punctuates seriously. You nod your head quickly. What the hell just happened?
thinking about how bakugou is 100% the type of guy to say “that’s my girl” in response to you doing anything ever
you’re at a bar hanging out with him and his friends, his arm draped over the back of your chair when you spot a claw machine in the far corner.
“kats!” you whisper excitedly, pointing to the machine. he gives you a crooked smile, removing his arm and following you as you scoot your chair out, nearly tripping over your own feet to make your way over to the machine.
like a little kid, you press your fingertips onto the glass, smooshing your face up against it to peer inside at the various plushies. you feel a warm presence behind you, and bakugou sidles up to rest his chin on your shoulder.
“you wanna try?” his deep voice asks, no trace of judgement in his voice.
“mhm!” you hum, bouncing.
he moves back, and you turn to face him, a grin on your face as he slips some money into your hand. as you move to familiarize yourself with the controls, he leans his hip on the side of the machine to watch, crimson eyes shining.
scanning the sea of plushies, you immediately spot a familiar one, giggling to yourself as you feed the money into the slot.
the machine whirs to life and you move the claw, biting your lip as you push the button. you watch, heart pitter-pattering as the claw lowers, getting closer and closer to scooping up the plushie you have your eye on. it grips the arm of the toy, but before it can pull it up, the claw swings to the side and the toy falls back into place.
“damn.” he says from the side, your eyes flitting to his face, surprised to see a frown and a wrinkle between his eyebrows.
you grunt in response, yet you feed another dollar in. this time, you angle it perfectly, holding your breath as the claw grabs the body of the plushie, pulling it up and dropping it down the chute.
“yes!” you cheer, jumping up a down a few times before looking towards katsuki, who lets out a chuckle before he opens his arms. you jump into them, hooking your hands behind his neck, and he swings you around a few times before putting your feet back down on the ground.
“that’s my girl.” he says lowly, a soft smile spreading across his face as he leans down to press a kiss to your hairline. “what did you get?”
you giggle, stepping away from him to kneel on the ground, pushing the door to the chute open and gently tugging the toy out. you turn and look up at him, a mischievous smile on your face before presenting it to him.
he rolls his eyes (fondly), and huffs.
“it’s you!” you exclaim, holding the dynamight plushie out for him to see. it’s surprisingly detailed, including all of the bits and bobs of his hero costume, and it even has the scar that rests under his eye.
he sighs, carding a hand through his hair, and you narrow your eyes at him, almost daring him to tell you that you can’t keep it. instead, he hikes up his eyebrows, before saying, “that cannot go in our bed, got it? i don’t wanna roll over and see that thing—me? whatever, staring with its beady eyes.”
“Aye aye captain.” You say, before he snorts, then hauls you up and places a hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you to walk back to the table where his friends are, the mini katsuki bakugou still cradled in your arms.
ft. katsuki bakugo, izuku midoryia, shoto todoroki, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari, tenya iida, hitoshi shinsou x reader (separately)
summary: having a plushie of them (replacing them with mini them)
type of ff: smau
warnings: just swearing
authors note: this lowkey reminds me of oikawa abuse 😔💔