handsoffmyscarfsherlock

[handsoffmyscarfsherlock]

Operation: Lovelock

Kakashi x Reader

Summary: When three meddling kids decide to play matchmaker, the reader and the famously unreadable Kakashi Hatake, find themselves locked in a room and finally forced to confront the feelings they've both spent far too long ignoring.

Warnings: Comedic meddling and tooth-rotting fluff

You weren't sure who started it.

Maybe it was Naruto,  ever the loud, well-meaning instigator with the subtlety of a kunai through a rice paper wall. Or maybe it was Sakura, a romantic at heart beneath the steel. Perhaps even Sasuke, dragged along with his usual air of apathy, but secretly complicit in the scheme.

Either way, it began with a glance. Just one.

An unremarkable afternoon on the training field. You’d been walking past Kakashi, arms full of reports for the Hokage, when your fingers brushed his by accident. Just skin against skin for a second. A jolt that went deeper than it should have.

You blinked. He didn’t move. The moment passed.

But not for them.

From that day on, it was open season on your love life.

As one of the Hokage’s senior medical jonin, you were used to chaos. Your days were spent elbows-deep in triage reports, chakra scans, high-stakes healing, and defusing ego-laden arguments between veteran shinobi and panicked Genin. Romance wasn’t exactly high on your priority list.

Or so you kept telling yourself.

The first “plan” came fast and shameless. Naruto, bleeding from a shallow scrape across his forearm, wandered into the clinic with the practiced pout of someone who’d clearly milked a paper cut into a battlefield tragedy.

You didn’t realize what was happening until Sakura appeared, far too coincidentally, with two cups of steaming tea.

“Oh no!” she gasped, voice pitched high in faux surprise. “There’s only two!”

She handed you one. The second went directly into Kakashi’s waiting hand as he stepped into the doorway with all the casual grace of someone absolutely in on the joke.

“Well,” Kakashi said mildly, as he settled next to you, shoulders just brushing, “Waste not.”

You tried not to stare. You also tried not to imagine what he looked like under the mask. You failed both attempts.

Naruto was biting his knuckle in the corner, visibly vibrating with the effort not to squeal.

You sighed. “I’m going to kill them.”

“Maybe wait until after tea,” Kakashi replied, and sipped like none of this was even remotely strange.

The next attempt was sneakier. More dramatic.

Sasuke, of all people, cornered you outside the Hokage’s tower, scroll in hand, expression impassive.

“Urgent delivery,” he said. “Top priority.”

You raised an eyebrow. “From the Hokage?”

“Yeah.” A pause. “North training field.”

You should have known.

You did know.

But still, you went.

What you did not expect was to find Kakashi waiting on a blanket, a meticulously arranged picnic spread in front of him like some charming fever dream. Rice balls, sweet dango, and hot tea nestled neatly between two cushions.

"Yo," he greeted, eye curving in that familiar lazy smile. "They said you were bringing dessert."

You stared. At the food. At him. At the unmistakable sound of Naruto high-fiving someone behind a nearby tree.

You said nothing as you sank down beside him, pulse loud in your throat. He handed you a cup without a word. It was the exact way you liked your tea, strong, sweet, just slightly over-steeped.

You sipped. He watched.

Nothing happened.

And yet everything was happening.

By the third or fourth "coincidence," you had perfected the art of glaring while blushing.

Sakura would wave innocently. Naruto would whistle. Sasuke would raise an eyebrow, the universal signal for just kiss already.

You tried to laugh it off, to stay professional, but Kakashi didn’t make it easy. He had a maddening way of standing close, of saying your name softly, of listening with his whole attention, like every word you said mattered more than it should have.

You told yourself not to fall. You were colleagues. Comrades. Adults.

But the truth?

You were already gone.

The final straw came one humid afternoon when you were summoned, rather mysteriously, to the old storage building near the edge of the training grounds.

“Just help us reorganize,” Sakura said. “It’s a disaster in there.”

You’d barely stepped inside when the door slammed behind you.

The lock clicked.

“WHAT—" The words get caught in your throat as you yell out.

“YOU’RE NOT COMING OUT UNTIL YOU CONFESS!” Naruto shouted from the other side.

You stood frozen, heart hammering, as Kakashi stepped out from behind a crate of labeled scrolls.

"They got you too, huh?" he said with a sigh.

You stared at the door. Then at him. Then back at the door.

“This is a hostage situation.” You grumble.

“Technically,” he mused, stepping a little closer, “It’s a group intervention.”

You were going to kill all three of them. Possibly tomorrow. Possibly at dawn.

Kakashi scratched the back of his neck, looking around the storeroom as if trying to find an escape route, then gave up and leaned back against the wall, expression thoughtful.

There was a beat of silence. Then he said, softly, “They’re not wrong, you know.”

You turned. “What?”

His visible eye met yours. 

“I like you,” he said simply. “I’ve liked you. For a while.”

Your breath caught.

The silence between you stretched taut, full of everything unspoken, he near-misses, the quiet glances, the way your fingers always seemed to brush when you passed each other pens or shared a mission file. You’d buried it all so deep, wrapped it in professionalism and denial.

Now there it was. In the open. Undeniable.

You stepped toward him.

“I like you too,” you said. “More than I should’ve let myself.”

A pause.

Then his mask dropped, literally, in one smooth, practiced motion, and before your brain could even catch up, his lips were on yours.

His kiss was quiet and warm and unhurried, like a man savoring something he’d waited far too long to taste. One of his hands came up to cradle your jaw, fingers feather-light. Your hands fisted in his flak vest, your chest pressed to his as the world narrowed to nothing but the shape of him against you.

When he finally pulled back, his lips were slightly pink, and his eye, half-lidded, content, traced your face like a secret he’d never forget.

“You know,” he murmured, “I think this is the first time Naruto’s plan actually worked.”

You laughed, breathless, stunned, happy.

“I’m never telling him that.” You breathe out.

“Agreed.”

From outside the door, Naruto’s voice echoed again, “DID THEY KISS YET?!”

You smiled.

Kakashi did too.

And this time, you kissed him first.

Outside the storeroom, the sun had dipped low enough to cast long gold-streaked shadows across the training field, turning the dust into spun light. Naruto paced in anxious, exaggerated circles, wearing a groove into the grass like a hyperactive dog waiting for a treat.

"It's been ten minutes!" he hissed, stopping suddenly to press his ear against the wooden door as if it might whisper secrets. “What if they’re just sitting there in total silence? Or worse, what if she rejected him?!”

“They kissed,” Sakura said, arms crossed, tone smug but hopeful. “Didn’t you hear that sound? It was like… fireworks. Or… emotional closure.”

Naruto blinked. “You can hear emotional closure?”

“Shut up.”

Sasuke, standing a few steps away beneath the shade of a pine tree, looked entirely done with both of them. His arms were folded across his chest in that practiced Sasuke way, eyes narrowed slightly as if this whole ridiculous operation had personally offended him.

“You two are unbelievable,” he muttered.

“You’re unbelievable,” Naruto muttered back, jamming a kunai into the lock with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer wrapped in explosives.

“Wait—Naruto, no—!” Sakura tried to stop him, but she was too late.

With a victorious click the lock gave way, and Naruto slammed his foot into the door like he was storming a castle.

“KAKASHI-SENSEI! Y/N-SENSEI!” he howled, bursting into the room like the world’s loudest narrator. “OPERATION: LOVELOCK IS A SUC—”

And then he froze.

Sakura, hot on his heels, skidded to a stop so hard her sandals squeaked against the floor.

Even Sasuke looked up.

Because there, in the middle of the dusty, half-lit room, you and Kakashi were very much still wrapped in each other’s arms, lost in a kiss so consuming, so unguarded, it was as though the rest of the world had melted away around you.

You weren’t just kissing.

You were tangled in each other like a secret finally spoken. Your hands were twisted in the soft fabric of his jonin vest, one foot lifted slightly off the ground as if your body had forgotten gravity. Kakashi’s fingers were gently buried in your hair, his mask discarded, lips parted against yours with quiet reverence, like he had waited years for this moment and couldn’t bear to let it pass.

It was not a kiss of impulse.

It was a kiss of arrival.

And it was very thorough.

Naruto made a strangled, high-pitched noise, somewhere between a gasp and a bird dying.

“MY EYES!” he shouted, turning around so fast he spun in a full circle before clapping both hands over his face. “I DIDN’T MEAN TO WALK INTO THAT!”

“Oh my god,” Sakura breathed, face flushing a deep, mortified red. “They’re still going?! This is worse than I thought—NO, I MEAN BETTER, BUT—oh my god—we have to leave!”

She grabbed Naruto by the back of the collar and started dragging him bodily toward the exit, both of them tripping over each other in a heap of flailing limbs and horrified screeching.

“WE’RE SORRY!” she shouted behind her. “CONGRATULATIONS! CARRY ON!”

Sasuke, who had wandered closer by that point, took one look at the scene, the two of you, still locked together like time itself had paused, and gave a rare, slow smirk.

“Took you long enough,” he said quietly, and turned to leave like he hadn’t just witnessed a full-blown romantic drama unfolding between his sensei and the village’s most composed medic.

Inside, the storeroom door swung half-shut again, settling on its hinges with a soft click.

You pulled back from Kakashi, breathless and laughing, cheeks burning as the echo of Naruto’s shriek slowly faded.

“Should we be embarrassed?” you asked, your voice muffled slightly against the dark fabric of his vest.

Kakashi chuckled, low and warm, his hand trailing softly along the back of your neck. “Probably.”

You tilted your face up to him, smiling so wide it hurt. “We should’ve done that years ago.”

His visible eye softened, and the pad of his thumb brushed a slow, reverent line along your jaw.

“I would’ve waited however long it took,” he murmured, “but I’m glad we didn’t waste another day.”

And then he kissed you again, slower, sweeter, like punctuation at the end of a sentence that had been writing itself in stolen glances and missed chances for far too long.

Outside, Naruto’s voice was still echoing faintly across the training ground, “—THEY WERE DEVOURING EACH OTHER, SASUKE! I’M TRAUMATIZED!”

You smiled against Kakashi’s mouth, huffed out a quiet, helpless laugh, and whispered, “Let’s make them wait to find out when we’re dating.”

Kakashi grinned, really grinned, as if the very idea of keeping them in suspense delighted him to his core.

“I like the way you think,” he said, then kissed you once more just because he could.

[handsoffmyscarfsherlock]

The Rhythm Between Us

hawks x reader

Summary: When Keigo invites you to your first Pro Hero Gala, a spontaneous ballroom dance lesson turns into a night neither of you will forget.

Warnings: None (other than Keigo being dangerously charming in formal wear)

Note: As a result of my recent poll, here's everyone's favorite guy! Thanks for everyone participating :)

“Hey, babe.”

The word was barely out of his mouth before Keigo Takami, Pro Hero Hawks, flopped onto the couch beside you with a dramatic sigh, his wings twitching with just enough leftover energy to ruffle your hair. You glanced up from your phone, squinting at the man who’d just face-planted into a pillow like his entire career had drained him dry.

You reached over to gently fluff one of his messy golden strands. “Long day saving the world?”

“Endeavor made us sit through a three-hour meeting about eye contact and communication on the battlefield,” he groaned into the cushions. “I aged thirty years. I’m now a middle-aged man with a bad back and trust issues.”

You snorted. “So, nothing new.”

“Harsh.” He cracked one golden eye open to grin at you. “I come bearing news, and you mock me. This is how I’m treated?”

“Well, I suppose it depends on the news,” you said, pretending to ponder. “If it’s something like a villain attack or a reminder to take out the trash, I am going to mock you.”

He rolled onto his side and poked your arm. “It’s something better than both of those things combined, I swear.”

“Alright, birdbrain, out with it.” You chirp.

He perked up slightly and said, “There’s a Pro Hero Gala coming up. Fancy one. The kind with a red carpet and reporters and tiny weird hors d'oeuvres that cost like four thousand bucks apiece.”

You blinked. “Wait… really?”

“Yep,” he said, watching your eyes light up.

Your grin stretched wide. “I’ve never been to a hero gala!”

He raised a brow. “What? With how gorgeous you are, I assumed you had like… five invitations just waiting to be accepted.”

“Nope. Never been.” You sat up straighter, already imagining what you might wear, the soft flicker of chandeliers and champagne glasses. “Are we going together?”

He gave you a smirk that was more affection than arrogance. “I mean, if you’re not busy. I suppose I could find a tux…”

You swatted his shoulder. “Don’t act like you don’t love dressing up.”

“I love looking good,” he said. “Tuxes are restrictive. But for you?” His voice dropped to that velvet-soft hum. “I’ll wear a bow tie. Even the cummerbund.”

You laughed. “Now that’s true love.”

He kissed your knuckles like a storybook prince. “I try.”

Then, with a devilish little smile, he added, “One catch, though.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“There’s… dancing.”

“Even better,” you said, clapping your hands together with glee. “I’ve always wanted to dance at a fancy party. Like waltzing. The full-on spinning-in-a-ballroom, pretend-you’re-in-a-period-drama type thing.”

He winced.

You paused. “What?”

He made a sheepish face and buried it again in the pillow. “It’s like… proper, stuffy dancing. Not the fun kind. Like… arms-at-weird-angles, ‘good evening, my lady’ dancing.”

“I know,” you said. “And it’s amazing.”

Keigo looked up with a genuine pout. “You actually know how to do that kind of dancing?”

You grinned. “My parents put me in ballroom dance lessons when I was a kid. All the classics. Waltz, foxtrot, even the tango.”

He looked betrayed. “You never told me you were a ballroom ninja.”

You shrugged modestly. “It’s not the kind of thing that comes up in casual conversation. ‘Hey babe, pass the salt—also, I’m a god-tier waltzer.’”

He looked absolutely delighted. “This is incredible.”

You smiled sweetly. “So I take it you don’t know how to ballroom dance?”

He groaned. “I have zero clue. I move like a noodle when music starts. A very attractive noodle, but still.”

“Oh, babe.”

“Don’t patronize me. This is hard for me. I’m a majestic creature of the sky, not the dance floor.”

“Luckily for you,” you said, standing up and offering your hand with an elegant little bow, “You’re dating a ballroom ninja.”

He eyed your outstretched hand suspiciously. “Are we doing this now?”

“You’re gonna thank me at the gala when you’re the only guy not stepping on someone’s train.”

He sighed dramatically, then took your hand. “If I make a fool of myself, I demand cuddles as compensation.”

“Deal,” you said, pulling him to his feet. “Let’s start with the basic box step.”

After a few hours, you were able to get somewhere… barely.

“No, no, your other left,” you said, giggling as Keigo nearly spun you into a potted plant.

“I only have one left!” he cried, clutching your waist for dear life.

“You’re literally the number two pro hero. How is foot coordination this hard for you?”

“Because I can fly, not waltz!”

You were both laughing now, spinning ungracefully in the middle of your living room to classical music playing from your phone. Keigo had ditched his jacket long ago, sleeves rolled up, golden hair mussed, and his shirt sticking slightly to his chest. You were flushed, breathless, and entirely enamored.

“Okay, okay,” you said, pressing a hand to your chest. “Let’s slow it down. Just follow my lead.”

“You sure you want me this close?” he teased, sliding a hand to your waist and pulling you in with more grace than the dancing had shown so far. “You know I’m gonna find excuses to keep messing up.”

“I’m counting on it,” you said with a smirk.

For a moment, he looked at you differently, something in his eyes softening, like he was seeing you for the first time all over again.

Then he whispered, “You’re kind of magic, you know that?”

Your cheeks warmed. “You’re just saying that because I haven’t made you do the tango yet.”

He chuckled. “Nah. That’s a separate compliment. The tango thing scares me on a spiritual level.”

You laughed again, but there was a softness in your chest that didn’t fade. “You’re not bad at this, you know.”

“I’ve stepped on you twice.”

“Okay, yes. But you’ve improved. And you’re actually leading this time.”

He blinked. “I am?”

“Yep.” You smiled. “You’re a natural.”

“Don’t lie to me just because I’m pretty.”

“Pretty and learning,” you corrected.

He gave you a little twirl, and though it wasn’t perfect, you laughed and spun out, landing against his chest.

“You know what?” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I think I get it now.”

“Get what?”

“The appeal.” He gestured vaguely at the room, the music, the two of you tangled in a not-quite-ballroom embrace. “This kind of dancing. The cheesy, romantic, high-society thing. I always thought it was boring.”

“And now?” You ask.

His voice dropped, low and sincere. “Now it’s just another excuse to hold you.”

Your breath caught.

He leaned down, eyes never leaving yours. “I can learn the steps. Hell, I’ll take actual lessons. I don’t care if I fall on my face at the gala. As long as you’re in my arms.”

You melted right there, forehead resting against his. “You sap.”

“I learned from the best.”

“You’re gonna kill me with how sweet you are.”

“Just practicing for the gala. Gotta impress the press.”

You kissed him. Slow, light, and laughing. “You’ll impress them just fine.”

“Promise you won’t laugh at me when I mess up?”

“I’ll be too busy swooning.”

He grinned. “Then lead on, ballroom ninja. I’m yours.”

The Pro Hero Gala was even more extravagant than you'd imagined.

Marble floors gleamed beneath crystal chandeliers that looked like they belonged in royal castles. Reporters clustered behind velvet ropes, snapping photos and calling out names. Every major hero was there, Endeavor towering in his formal gear, Mirko in a sleek silver gown, even Aizawa begrudgingly dressed in a suit like he’d rather be anywhere else.

But the moment Keigo stepped out of the car with you on his arm, it felt like the rest of the world dipped into a blur.

He looked unfairly good. Black tux tailored perfectly to his frame, red wings carefully smoothed and gleaming under the lights like burnished gold. His tie was the exact shade of your gown, a detail he hadn’t mentioned, but you caught the subtle grin he gave when you noticed.

“Wow,” you whispered.

He leaned close. “You’re literally glowing. I think you just made the other women reevaluate their dresses.”

You rolled your eyes, but your blush betrayed you. “Shut up.”

“I’m trying,” he said. “But you make it really hard.”

You’d barely made it past the first round of greetings before Keigo leaned in and whispered, “Wanna dance before they try to trap me into a ‘statement on national hero infrastructure’ again?”

“God, yes.”

The ballroom was already filled with soft strings and elegant movement, gowns gliding like mist and shoes tapping lightly across polished floors.

Keigo led you to the edge of the floor, then paused.

“You ready?” he asked, voice gentler now. “It’s the real deal. People watching, real music, pressure’s on.”

You looked up at him with a soft smile. “I’m not worried.”

He exhaled like you’d given him courage, then held out a hand. “Let’s make 'em jealous.”

You stepped into his arms, and he moved.

Not perfectly. Not textbook. But it was him. He remembered the steps. Guided you confidently, posture tall, wings tucked just enough to avoid brushing any gowns, but not so close he didn’t look utterly majestic. And he smiled, god, he smiled like this was the only thing that mattered.

“See?” you whispered. “You’re doing amazing.”

He twirled you, catching your hand just in time to pull you back against his chest. “I told you. I’ve got the best teacher.”

A few reporters on the edges were watching now, raising cameras. But Keigo didn’t even glance at them. His eyes were on you, like the crowd didn’t exist.

The music swelled.

And then, he did it.

He swept you into a lift. No warning. Just one strong arm at your back, the other around your waist, and suddenly your feet left the ground.

Your dress flared, floating midair for one weightless moment, and you gasped, eyes wide, heart in your throat.

Cheers and claps rippled across the room.

You looked down at him, stunned. “Keigo!”

He grinned up at you, breathless. “I saw it in a movie once. Figured, if I was gonna fall, I might as well fall big.”

“You didn’t fall,” you said, voice trembling with adrenaline and awe.

He lowered you slowly, reverently, like you were made of silk.

“No,” he whispered, pulling you close again. “I just fell for you.”

The band hit the final note.

He dipped you low and kissed you. Right there in front of everyone.

Camera flashes. Applause. Gasps.

You didn’t care.

It was soft. Warm. Sweet enough to break something open in your chest. When he brought you upright again, your heart was racing, your smile aching.

“I think you just made us the center of attention,” you murmured.

He didn’t even look away from you. “Good. Let ‘em look.”

And in that moment, with the ballroom spinning and your pulse still sky-high from his spontaneous lift, it wasn’t about the cameras or the gala or the hero rankings.

It was just you and him.

Like always. Like the world had shrunk to the space between his hands and your heartbeat.

And when the music started again, you didn’t even think, you just leaned in, cheek to his shoulder, and whispered,

“I want every dance with you.”

Keigo squeezed your waist, smile pressed against your hair.

“You’ve got ‘em,” he murmured. “All of ‘em. Forever.”

[handsoffmyscarfsherlock]

Let me know your thoughts 👀😊

[handsoffmyscarfsherlock]

Soft Places to Land

hawks x reader

Summary: A soft and intimate moment shared above the city lights reveals more than just affection between you and a certain winged hero.

Warnings: None (gentle romance, fluff)

You should’ve known something was up when he didn’t open the door right away.

Usually, Keigo was obnoxiously fast, always just behind it like he’d sensed you coming before you’d even knocked. But this time, after a few seconds of silence, you were left standing in the hallway outside his apartment with a bag of takeout growing colder in your arms and a raised eyebrow on your face.

“Keigo?” you called, tapping your knuckles gently on the doorframe.

And then it cracked open.

He peeked out, golden hair sticking up in every direction like he’d run a hand through it too many times, eyes bright but sheepish.

“Sorry, dove,” he said, stepping aside to let you in. “Was… rearranging.”

Rearranging? That was an odd word choice until you stepped inside.

His apartment, usually lived in but not messy, had been completely transformed.

The couch had been pulled forward, closer to the center of the room, and thick throw blankets were draped across the back and cushions. Pillows were stacked in a semicircle on the rug like they were forming a nest, and his usually scattered feathers were unusually abundant today, glinting gold and red in the soft lighting. Some had even been purposefully placed, tucked into corners, nestled against the pillows, woven through the slats of the bookshelf like decoration.

“What…” you started, then trailed off. “What is all this?”

Keigo looked, absurdly, like a guilty bird caught fluffing its feathers in public.

“Okay, okay,” he said, raising his hands. “Hear me out. I know it’s weird.”

You turned to look at him, mouth already curving into a smile.

“I didn’t say it was weird,” you murmured. “I just said, what is this?”

His wings gave a slow, embarrassed rustle as he looked off to the side. “It’s… nesting. I do it sometimes. When I’m stressed. Or when I know someone important is coming over.”

Your heart flipped, but you tried to keep your tone light. “Oh? So who’s important?”

He shot you a dry look, lips twitching. “Gee, I dunno. The gorgeous woman standing in my living room with dinner in her hands.”

You grinned and moved past him to set the bag down on the coffee table, kicking off your shoes as you settled onto the couch. The blankets were warm, probably from his body heat, and the cushions smelled like him.

He followed you a moment later, plopping down beside you and tugging the food open.

“You spoil me,” he said between bites, “but I accept it.”

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” you teased.

“Damn right.”

After eating, Keigo was buzzing around the kitchen, shirt sleeves pushed up, wings fluttering every few minutes like his body couldn’t quite stay still. You were flipping through your phone on the couch, half-watching him and half-wondering why he was so restless. The food had been eaten, the dishes already rinsed, most of which you had tried to do yourself, only for him to shoo you off with a dramatic flick of a feather and a “nah-uh, not in my nest.”

His nest. You were still rolling that one around in your head.

He moved to the shelves next, rearranging things like a fussy interior designer, except it was less about aesthetics and more about proximity. You watched as he slid a tiny ceramic bird (one you’d admired in a shop window a few weeks ago, he’d bought it apparently?) onto the coffee table in plain view. Then came a candle you’d brought over once and said smelled like your grandma’s garden. It was burned down halfway, but placed front and center. A hoodie you’d left behind was pulled from the closet and draped casually over the back of the couch.

And then you noticed the smallest thing.

A feather, one of his, was carefully braided with a ribbon and tucked into the corner of the windowsill. Out of the way. Hidden, almost. But deliberate. Placed.

“Keigo…” you said slowly, watching him move to the bookshelf next.

“Hm?” he replied innocently, not looking at you.

“Are you… decorating with my stuff?”

He froze mid-movement, literally mid-placing a paperback you’d lent him last month, so it stuck out just enough to catch the eye. Then he turned around, trying to play it cool, arms crossed and wings ruffling behind him.

“What? No. I’m just… optimizing the vibe.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Optimizing.”

“Yeah.” He gestured vaguely. “You know. Balancing the energy. Keeping things cozy. I’m very in touch with my inner feng shui.”

You got up and walked over to him, taking in the small shrine of you that had subtly formed all around the room. A photo strip from that awful photobooth you’d forced him into, with the two of you sticking your tongues out, was tucked into a picture frame by the TV. Your favorite tea in his cabinet. The soft slippers he’d bought “just in case your feet get cold.”

It wasn’t over-the-top or obsessive. It was gentle. Like he was weaving you into the space without saying a word.

You turned to look at him, your voice soft now. “This is nesting, too, isn’t it?”

He looked briefly like a caught animal, eyes wide, feathers fluffing out behind him in an instinctive shield. Then he rubbed the back of his neck and gave a sheepish smile.

“…Maybe.”

You smiled and turned away before he could see your expression crack wide open with affection. Before you could say what you wanted to say. Because you weren’t ready, not quite yet. But you saw him now. You saw the way he loved. Quietly. With placement. With presence. With care.

He didn’t say the word love. Didn’t need to.

He just kept you close.

You stayed like that for a while, soft music playing from his phone, the low light cocooning you both in quiet safety. Every now and then, his wing would brush yours, a feather would curl around your ankle like a lazy cat, and you’d pretend you weren’t smiling too much.

Eventually, the warmth and comfort got to you.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Honestly, you were mid-sentence when it happened. One minute you were laughing at some joke he made about Endeavor’s eyebrows, and the next you were blinking through the slow, golden fog of an afternoon nap, body slouched comfortably against Keigo’s chest.

It was the sensation of gentle tugging that woke you, the soft, rhythmic glide of fingers weaving through your hair.

You shifted slightly, confused, and felt his chin resting on your shoulder. “Shhh, stop fussing,” he murmured, breath tickling your skin. “I’m just braiding your hair.”

“Braiding my—Keigo,” you said, not even bothering to hide your laugh. “What?”

His fingers didn’t stop. They moved with lazy precision, parting strands, smoothing them down, weaving them into something neat and tight. “It’s relaxing. For me, too.”

“For you?” you asked, still amused.

“Yeah.” He shrugged behind you, his posture too casual to be fake. “You’ve got good hair. Soft. Feels nice between my fingers. Helps me think.”

“That’s not creepy at all,” you deadpanned.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” he said with a grin you could hear in his voice.

You let your eyes drift closed again, not fighting the comfort. The tugging at your scalp was oddly grounding, and the weight of his chest against your back was steady and familiar. He smelled like sunlight and wings and something rich you couldn’t name.

“Do you do this often?” You asked after a moment.

“The braiding thing?” he said, then chuckled. “Nah. Just you.”

“Just me?”

A beat.

“Yeah,” he said, voice quieter. “It’s a nesting thing.”

You turned your head slightly, looking up at him. “So… explain this nesting thing to me.”

He sighed, almost like he’d been waiting for the question. One of his wings curled around your side, draping over you like a blanket. “Birds build nests, right? Not just for sleeping. It’s safety. It’s where you bring the people you care about. Where you can be soft. Where no one can reach you.”

You swallowed.

Keigo’s tone stayed casual, but there was a weight to his words. A soft gravity you didn’t miss.

“When I feel close to someone,” he continued, fingers still working gently in your hair, “I get this urge to bring them in. To build a space around them. Make them comfortable. Tuck them in. Keep them near.”

“You’re trying to nest me?” you asked, voice teasing but far too fond.

“Damn right I am,” he said without hesitation. “You’re warm. You smell good. You bring me food and let me be annoying. I’m nesting the hell out of you.”

You laughed, and he tugged playfully at the braid. “Ow—okay, okay.”

But your heart fluttered. Because as weird and birdlike as it was… it was real. And it was him. All of him, brash and charming and ridiculous, yes, but also sweet and attentive and fiercely protective. You’d always known Keigo Takami was more than just the flirty hero the public adored. But moments like this? They were proof.

Proof that behind the sharp grin and quick wit, there was something gentler. A quiet need to build something soft in a hard world.

When he finished the braid, he pressed a kiss to the back of your head like it was instinct, and let his hands fall to your waist, curling around you.

“You’re part of my nest now,” he murmured.

You leaned your head back against him, eyes fluttering shut once more.

“I like your nest,” you whispered.

“Yeah?” he asked, sounding almost hopeful.

“Yeah,” you said. “Especially when you’re in it.”

There was a beat of stillness. Then his arms tightened around you just slightly, wings brushing your sides like a blanket made of sky.

“Careful,” he said, voice low and smug. “You keep talking like that, I’m gonna start believing you’re in love with me.”

You smirked. “Maybe I am.”

Silence.

“Shit,” he said, voice a little breathless. “That was supposed to be a joke.”

“I know,” you said. “Mine wasn’t.”

He exhaled into your hair, pressing a kiss just below your ear.

“Good,” he whispered. “’Cause I’ve been nesting for you since the day we met.”

You let out a breathless laugh, something soft and startled, like it had slipped from your chest before your brain could catch it. Because how could someone say something like that so easily? So sincerely?

Your heart thudded against your ribs, and you could feel it in every part of you, like your body had become one big, blushing drum. He had no idea what that did to you.

You leaned back just enough to see him, turning your head over your shoulder. His eyes were already on you, golden and raw in the low light. His expression wasn’t playful now, not fully. He looked… honest. Vulnerable, even. And that made your throat catch.

“Since we met?” you asked, your voice barely above a murmur.

Keigo shrugged with one wing, but his eyes didn’t leave yours, “Mmhm. Didn’t know it at the time. I just… kept thinking about you. Wanted you close. Started bringing extra food when we were on patrol, making sure you had a jacket, hovering when you were tired, like some weird half-bird, half-boyfriend instinct kicking in before I even knew I was in love.”

The word landed between you like a feather, weightless but undeniable.

You blinked. “Love?”

He brushed a thumb along your jaw, tilting your chin toward him. “Yeah, babybird. You thought I was just braiding your hair because it was pretty?”

Your smile trembled. “Well… it is pretty.”

“It’s yours,” he corrected. “That’s what makes it perfect.”

You turned fully then, curling into his lap without hesitation, arms looping loosely around his neck. His feathers rustled as he adjusted, wrapping you up like some great, warm cocoon. You buried your face against his collarbone and breathed him in. He smelled like wind and heat, like the sky after it’s rained somewhere far away. And underneath it all: something distinctly home.

You didn’t need to say it back just yet. You didn’t have to.

Because Keigo didn’t ask for confessions. He just wrapped his wings around you like a promise and rested his cheek on top of your head. One hand slowly stroked your braid, the other curled at the small of your back, holding you like the most delicate part of him.

And in that quiet, glowing silence, with the room full of your things and the nest made half of memories and half of instinct, you realized something with aching clarity.

You didn’t just love Keigo Takami.

You belonged to him.

And in his own feather-soft, irreverent, deeply devoted way—

He belonged to you, too.

[handsoffmyscarfsherlock]

Thank you to everyone who got me to 2500 likes! I’m so grateful 💚

[handsoffmyscarfsherlock]

Above the City Lights

Hawks x reader

Summary: When a water-wielding pro hero unknowingly steals Hawks’ heart, years of best-friendship, jealousy, and missed signals come to a head—leading to a heartfelt rooftop confession under the stars.

Warnings: None

Keigo Takami, known to the world as Hawks, had always prided himself on his ability to stay composed in any situation. But that day, when he first laid eyes on you, was different. He had been flying in for his usual patrol, feeling like the hotshot he was, when he spotted you from afar. You were on the street below, interacting with a group of civilians, your bright smile lighting up the area around you. The sun caught your features in such a way that for a moment, everything around you seemed to blur, your beauty standing out like a beacon.

He couldn’t help himself. His jaw nearly hit the ground.

“Whoa,” Keigo muttered under his breath, hovering a bit higher. “She’s... wow.”

He landed silently on a nearby rooftop, trying to stay hidden. There was no way he was going to let some rookie hero know he was gawking like a teenager. He had a reputation to maintain, after all.

But then he saw it. Without any warning, a group of villains, local thugs looking to stir up trouble, burst onto the scene. People screamed and scattered, and in an instant, you were in action. Your quirk erupted as the air around you shimmered with water, the liquid swirling and forming into sharp, fluid weapons. You effortlessly controlled the water as if it were an extension of yourself, dispatching the thugs with precision and grace.

Keigo blinked, his heart racing in admiration. Okay, yeah, she’s fantastic. He had heard about your quirk, water manipulation, but seeing it in action was a whole different story. The way you fought was both beautiful and deadly, like watching an artist work. By the time he jumped into the fray to assist, you had already handled most of the situation, leaving only a few stragglers for him to deal with.

After everything had calmed down and the police had taken over, he approached you with a grin. “Impressive work. Not bad for a rookie,” he teased, but there was a twinkle in his eye. He was starstruck, and he didn’t even try to hide it.

You raised an eyebrow, brushing a lock of hair from your face. “Rookie? You were watching me, huh?” You smirked. “Keigo Takami, right? I’ve heard of you.”

His heart skipped. “Y-yeah, that’s me. Hawks.”

You chuckled lightly, clearly amused by his awkwardness. “Well, Hawks, next time I’ll leave a few for you,” you teased, winking. It was the start of something he didn’t even realize he was looking for.

Getting to know Keigo was a joy. Spending time with him and working with him were some of the moments you looked forward to the most. 

It was late on a patrol, the moon hanging high in the sky, and you were walking beside Keigo in the darkened streets. As usual, he was being his charming, slightly cocky self, throwing out jokes and lighthearted comments. But tonight, you were feeling a little tired. You were still getting used to being on the pro-hero circuit, and the exhaustion was creeping up on you.

Keigo noticed you yawning halfway through the patrol. “Tired, huh?” he said, his smirk mischievous. “You know, if you need a nap, I could always give you a ride. I mean, it’s pretty comfortable in the air.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “As tempting as that sounds, I’m good. I’ll pass on the ‘flying nap.’”

He laughed, quick and easy. “Oh, come on, you’re missing out! You’ll never know what you’re missing until you try it. You’d fall asleep in my arms, all cozy and—”

“Keigo,” you interrupted with a deadpan stare, “Stop trying to make this sound like some rom-com.”

He blinked, taken aback. “Rom-com? I—what? No! I was just offering a nap!”

“Sure,” you said with a grin. “A nap.” You reached over and flicked him on the arm. “If it’s really that comfortable, I might just take you up on it. But only if you don’t talk through the whole thing.”

Keigo laughed loudly, putting his hands behind his head. “Deal! But only if you promise to listen to my amazing flying playlist while we’re up there. It’ll be so romantic.”

You snorted. “If you put on any more of that bubblegum pop, I’m jumping off the side and taking my chances with gravity.”

“Wow, hurtful,” he teased, but the smile never left his face. You couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

It was a quiet evening after a particularly challenging mission. The two of you had just finished securing a rogue villain, and you were both sitting on a rooftop, the city stretched out before you. You were more tired than usual, your energy reserves drained. Keigo, noticing your quiet demeanor, sat beside you without saying a word. You leaned against the ledge, the cool air brushing your face.

“You okay?” Keigo asked softly, his voice unusually gentle.

You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “Just… tired. It’s been a long week.”

He nodded, his tone thoughtful. “I get it. You’re strong, Y/N, but you don’t have to do everything alone, you know? You’ve got me.”

You finally met his eyes, his warm amber gaze locking with yours. You smiled, feeling a comforting sense of security from him. “I know, Keigo. And I appreciate it. Really.”

He nudged you with his shoulder, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “What are best friends for, huh? If you need someone to carry you out of the field or just a shoulder to lean on, I’m your guy.”

Your heart swelled, and you reached out, lightly punching his arm. “Thanks, Keigo. You’re a good friend.”

“Best friend,” he corrected, his smile softening. He leaned back against the wall, looking up at the stars. “You’re not the only one who’s tired. Sometimes, it feels like I’m flying on empty. But as long as you’re around, I think I can keep going.”

His words caught you off guard. You weren’t sure if it was the sincerity behind them or just the way his quiet presence made you feel safe, but you found yourself leaning closer to him.

“Keigo…” you whispered, your voice thick with unspoken emotions. But before you could say more, he playfully punched your arm back.

“No need for all the mushy stuff,” he said with a wink. “Just… let’s keep kicking ass together, yeah?”

The day you were dreading finally arrived. As a hero, a big portion that isn’t talked about is networking and charity events. Social, as you were, big events were not easy for you. Lucky for you, your date for the evening was a close friend, the #1 hero himself, All Might. Having met early in your career, he was a tremendous support, even getting you your part-time teaching position at UA. 

The gala was a glittering affair, with the high ceilings of the venue towering above you, draped in soft lights and opulent decorations. Every corner of the room was filled with the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. The atmosphere felt weighty, full of expectations and a sense of importance that was a little out of place for someone like you, who preferred the quiet and simplicity of a mission or a casual conversation with friends.

You’d spent the last hour making small talk, answering questions, and trying your best to appear composed. The professional facade was second nature, especially when you had to work with other heroes and VIPs. But tonight, something was different. You couldn’t shake the feeling that every eye in the room was on you. You were dressed in a stunning red gown, its deep crimson hue both bold and elegant. The color had been a subtle nod to both Hawks and All Might, the two people who had shaped so much of your career. Keigo had always favored red, with his feathers almost always a reminder of that vibrant color. All Might, too, wore red in his heroic attire, a symbol of strength and warmth.

You had tried to make the dress your own, though. A sleek, form-fitting design that highlighted your figure without being overly flashy. You had opted for simple jewelry, nothing too distracting, and wore your hair in soft waves. But even with all the effort you had put into your look, it didn’t take long for others to notice.

As you moved through the ballroom, compliments came in waves.

“Y/N, you look absolutely stunning,” someone from the UA staff commented, her smile warm but polite. “That dress suits you perfectly. You really know how to turn heads, don’t you?”

You smiled awkwardly, feeling a little flustered. "Thank you, really. I just wanted to keep it simple tonight."

“Well, simple never looked so good,” she responded, leaving you to continue your rounds.

Another voice caught your attention, this time from a well-known hero whose name you couldn’t quite recall. “You’ve outdone yourself tonight, Y/N. That red is absolutely breathtaking. I think you’re stealing the spotlight from the rest of us.”

You chuckled nervously, feeling the weight of attention growing heavier with each passing minute. But it was when All Might finally appeared at your side that you felt the most at ease.

“Y/N, my young protege,” All Might boomed, his voice full of pride and warmth. “Looking beautiful, as always! I’m glad I have such excellent company tonight.”

You laughed, your nerves beginning to calm just a little. “Thanks, All Might. You look pretty good yourself.” The towering figure of the number one hero was a sight to behold in his sharp suit, his usual exuberance subdued for the night but still very much present in his presence.

“You’re far too modest,” he replied with a smile, clearly enjoying the attention and the atmosphere of the evening. “You have to let yourself shine a little more tonight. People need to see just how incredible you are, inside and out.”

You smiled, grateful for his support. All Might had always been a bit of a father figure to you. He had guided you through the toughest parts of your hero career, giving you wisdom and advice that was sometimes unexpected but always insightful. It was easy to feel comfortable with him, especially tonight when everything felt so out of place.

The conversation flowed easily between you two as you stood together, chatting with other guests. But as you talked, you couldn’t help but notice the way some of the other men in the room looked at you, longer, more lingering glances that felt uncomfortable. Your heart began to race as you caught sight of Keigo, his gaze fixed on you from across the room.

You hadn’t noticed before, but now that your attention was drawn to him, you could see the way his eyes flickered with something you hadn’t seen before. Something sharp. The way his lips curled in a forced smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He was standing by the bar, chatting with a few others, but his gaze was locked on you as if he couldn’t look away.

"Looks like someone’s got their eye on you, Y/N." All Might’s voice broke through your thoughts, a teasing glint in his eyes as he nudged you gently with his elbow. "Hawks doesn’t usually act so… intent. What’s going on there?"

You turned quickly to look at him, your breath catching in your throat. “What do you mean? He’s just—” You trailed off, unsure of how to finish that sentence. What was going on with Keigo? You hadn’t been able to make sense of his behavior since the gala started.

All Might chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “You’ve known him long enough to know when something’s off. Don’t let him get away with being all mysterious tonight. If he’s got feelings for you, he ought to tell you.”

You blinked, your thoughts stalling. “Feelings for me?” You hadn’t thought about it like that, but now, you couldn’t unsee it.

“Yep,” All Might said, giving you an encouraging smile. "Sometimes the people closest to us are the hardest to read. He may be trying to work up the courage to talk to you about it."

Before you could reply, Keigo’s figure approached you both, his usual playful air back in full force, but there was something stiff in his movements, something that betrayed his easygoing act.

“Hey, hey, what’s this? Y/N looking even more beautiful than usual?” Keigo’s voice was light, teasing, but you caught the hint of something deeper, something he was trying to mask.

You smiled awkwardly, unsure of what to say. "Thanks, Keigo."

“Of course, I can’t be the one to miss out on complimenting my favorite partner-in-crime,” he said, his tone as lighthearted as ever, though his eyes never left yours, a flicker of something darker in their amber depths.

“You’re a regular charmer tonight, aren’t you?” you teased back, though it didn’t feel quite the same as it had before. The warmth of the compliment, normally something you’d brush off, now felt oddly weighty.

His lips quirked upward, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. "I try," he replied, his voice edged with something you couldn’t quite place.

For the rest of the evening, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Keigo was watching you closely, too closely. You tried to brush it off, focusing on the conversations around you. All Might was there to guide you, offering more advice as you navigated the crowd, making sure you felt at ease.

Eventually, after a few hours, you found yourself standing at the edge of the balcony, the cool night air washing over you. You couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by everything—the crowd, the attention, and especially Keigo’s strange behavior.

All Might, ever the watchful mentor, came to stand beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder as you gazed out at the city. “You know, Y/N, sometimes people are too afraid to show their true feelings. Maybe Hawks is one of those people.”

You looked up at him, searching his face for something more. “But why is he being like this? Why can’t he just be normal?”

All Might chuckled softly, a knowing look in his eyes. “Maybe he’s afraid of ruining what you two already have. But that’s not something he can control forever. If he wants to stay in your life, he’ll have to open up eventually.”

As you pondered his words, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had reached a crossroads, one that involved more than just Keigo’s teasing. The night had been filled with tension, and you were certain that things between you and him were changing. What you weren’t sure of, though, was how to handle it.

But for now, you could only wait and see.

The night had started to wind down, but you couldn’t shake the discomfort you felt from the lingering tension between you and Keigo. The compliments from others, the glances, the constant weight of eyes on you, especially from him, left you feeling exposed. It was like Keigo was always in your peripheral vision, his gaze following your every movement, but not in the lighthearted way he used to.

It wasn’t until you found yourself in a quiet corner, away from the crowd, that you felt the tension snap. You’d been enjoying a quiet conversation with a few other heroes when you caught a flash of movement in the crowd. Keigo was making his way toward you, his face set in a tight, serious expression.

Without a word, he pulled you aside, leading you towards the far end of the balcony, where the noise of the gala seemed to fade.

“Keigo, what’s going on?” you asked, confusion and a bit of frustration slipping into your voice. “You’ve been acting strange all night.”

His jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed, and for the first time, you saw something darker there. “You’re not even trying to hide it, are you?”

You frowned. “What do you mean? Hide what?”

“The way you’re soaking up all that attention,” he shot back, his voice sharper than usual. “Flirting with everyone, talking to them like you’ve never met anyone before. You’re practically glowing, Y/N.”

Your stomach sank. “Keigo, are you jealous?” You said it in disbelief, not fully understanding why he’d even be jealous in the first place.

He didn’t respond right away, looking away from you as though trying to fight the words that had clearly been burning at the back of his mind. “I don’t know,” he muttered, frustration clear in his tone. “But I don’t like it. I don’t like seeing you with all these other people, being all… charming and perfect. Like they don’t even know you, and you’re just letting them think you’re that easy to talk to.”

You blinked, completely caught off guard by his words. “I wasn’t flirting, Keigo. I was just talking to people. It’s what you do at a gala. You’ve been doing it all night, too!”

His expression darkened further, and before you could protest, he took a step back, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t expect this. Not from you.” The hurt was unmistakable in his voice, but there was also a raw edge to it, a kind of vulnerability that you’d never seen from him before.

You couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt, though you didn’t fully understand where it was coming from. "Keigo, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I’m just… I don’t know. I’m not used to all this attention. And you're not the only one getting jealous."

Keigo opened his mouth to argue, but then stopped himself, looking like he was about to explode with frustration before turning away. “Forget it,” he muttered under his breath, storming off.

The scene left you frozen for a moment, the weight of the misunderstanding sinking in. You hadn’t even realized the extent of what had just happened, why it had gotten to him so much. And now, as he walked away, there was an unfamiliar emptiness between you, one you had no idea how to fix.

The next day, you were exhausted. You didn’t sleep much, too distracted by everything that had happened at the gala. You had been fine with Keigo before, laughing, joking, and never second-guessing his flirtations. But now, everything felt like a muddled mess. Had it always been like this? Were you really that oblivious to how Keigo felt? Why hadn’t he said something sooner?

You ended up retreating to the teacher’s lounge for some solace, needing a space to collect your thoughts. Eraserhead and All Might were already inside when you walked in. All Might immediately waved you over, his usual cheerful demeanor greeting you like a warm blanket.

“Y/N, my young protégé!” he boomed, his grin lighting up the room. “Everything okay? You look a little… off today.”

You sighed and slumped into a chair at the table, pulling your legs up in front of you as if to protect yourself from the weight of the night. “I need help,” you muttered, “I don’t get what happened. I’ve been thinking about the gala, and I’m totally confused.”

Eraserhead, who had been quietly sipping his coffee, finally spoke up, his voice softer than usual but still laced with the calm authority he always carried. “What’s going on?”

You hesitated, your fingers nervously tapping on the table. "Keigo, Hawks, I mean. He… he got upset with me last night. I don’t understand why. We’ve always been fine—he teases me, I tease him, it’s normal, right? But last night, he looked like he was ready to explode. And now, he’s avoiding me."

All Might raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by this new information. “He’s avoiding you, huh? Sounds like I might have been right. Someone’s dealing with some unspoken feelings. I’d bet money on it.”

You stared at him, eyes wide. “You think that’s it? But… we’re just friends. Right?”

Eraserhead gave a small snort at the way you phrased that. “You’re a lot more than ‘just friends,’ Y/N, even if you don’t see it yet.”

You blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Hawks has been acting like this because he’s jealous,” Eraserhead said, not looking at you but instead focusing on his coffee cup as though he were trying to explain a simple math equation. “Jealous of the attention you were getting from other people. You’ve been the one constant in his life for years, and now that he sees how much others appreciate you… It’s messing with his head. And with his feelings.”

You felt a sickly weight in your stomach. “But he didn’t say anything. He just… stormed off.”

All Might leaned in, his tone more fatherly now, “Hawks is not great at expressing what he feels. You know that. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. It’s just… hard for him to admit it to himself. So, he lashes out because he doesn’t know what else to do with that kind of emotion.”

Eraserhead looked at you, his expression softening just a fraction. “If you’re serious about fixing this, you’ll have to be the one to put the pieces back together. He’s too proud to admit he’s wrong, so it’ll be up to you to clear the air.”

You frowned, staring down at the table. “But why me? Why can’t he just come to me and say it?”

All Might’s eyes twinkled. “Because he’s a complicated guy. He tries to protect everyone around him, especially you. He doesn’t want to risk ruining the friendship you two have.”

Eraserhead gave a dry chuckle. “And he’s probably afraid you’ll reject him. Don’t make it too easy on him, though. He’s got to own up to his mistakes.”

You laughed softly, despite the heaviness in your heart. “You both sound so fatherly.”

All Might chuckled along with you. “Well, I’ve spent plenty of time around young heroes. Can’t help but give out a little wisdom every now and then.”

Eraserhead took another sip of his coffee, shaking his head. “You’re both heroes. You know how to fight enemies. Now, you’ve got to figure out how to fight for what’s important. And sometimes, that means fighting for each other.”

You let his words sink in. Maybe you hadn’t realized it before, but the advice was exactly what you needed. It wasn’t about fighting for something physical, it was about fighting for the people in your life and not letting them slip away because of some misunderstanding or fear.

Taking a deep breath, you stood up from your seat. “Okay, I’m going to talk to him. Thanks, both of you. I think I know what I need to do.”

All Might clapped you on the back with a grin. “That’s the spirit! And remember—don’t let him off easy. You’ve got this, Y/N.”

Eraserhead gave a rare smile, though it was more like a fatherly nod. “You’ve been through worse. Don’t let some jealousy get in your way.”

You left the lounge feeling slightly lighter. It was time to talk to Keigo and figure out what was really going on. No more avoiding the conversation. No more letting things fester. You had to be the one to fix this, and maybe, just maybe, you’d figure out what had been simmering between you both all along.

You spent the rest of the afternoon pacing back and forth in your apartment, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. Keigo’s words at the gala still echoed in your mind, along with the way he stormed off, leaving you feeling like you’d somehow broken something between you two.

You’d spoken to All Might and Eraserhead earlier in the day, but you still felt like you needed to get everything off your chest. You needed to let him know how you felt, not just about the gala, but about how disappointed you were that he hadn’t communicated his feelings with you sooner.

With a sigh, you grabbed your phone, debating whether to text him or just call him outright. In the end, you opted for something a little more personal, a voicemail.

You waited for it to go straight to voicemail and took a deep breath before speaking.

“Keigo… It’s me, Y/N. I just… I need to say something. I’ve been thinking about everything that happened last night, and honestly, I’m a little hurt. I don’t know what I did to make you feel the way you did, but I want you to know that I never intended for any of that to happen. I know I might not have been paying attention, but I didn’t know that you were feeling like this. I didn’t know you felt threatened by the attention I was getting, and I didn’t know how much it bothered you.”

You sighed before continuing, “I was just being me, trying to survive the night like everyone else. I didn’t think it was a big deal, but I guess I was wrong. And hearing you say that I was flirting with everyone? I didn’t realize that’s how it came across. I thought we were fine, and that’s why this whole thing is so confusing.”

Clearing your throat, you swallow, “I talked to Eraserhead and All Might today, and… well, they gave me some good advice. Eraserhead said that sometimes you’re afraid to express what you’re feeling, especially when it’s something important. And All Might, he said that maybe you’re afraid of losing our friendship over this. But Keigo… you’ve got to understand that I can’t read your mind. You can’t just expect me to know what’s going on in your head. If something’s bothering you, you have to tell me. You have to be honest. I’m just disappointed, honestly. We’ve been through a lot together, and I thought we had that understanding. I don’t want to lose you. I never want to lose you. But we’ve got to be able to talk about this stuff. So, when you’re ready… I’m here. I just need you to listen, too.”

You paused, your thumb hovering over the stop button for a moment before you added one last thing, “Anyway… I hope you can hear me out. Take care, Keigo.”

You pressed stop, staring at the screen for a moment, your heart heavy with uncertainty. You weren’t sure what would happen next, but you knew you had to say it.

A few hours later, the familiar hum of your phone vibrated on your bedside table. Keigo’s name appeared on the screen, and for a moment, your breath hitched in your chest. You’d left the voicemail, but you had no idea how he would respond. You answered the call with a mixture of nervousness and hope in your voice.

“Keigo?” you asked softly, your stomach doing somersaults.

His voice came through a little quieter than usual, but the warmth in it was undeniable. “Hey, Y/N. It’s me.”

You could hear the hesitation in his tone. “I just… wanted to say I’m sorry. For how I acted at the gala. I didn’t mean to push you away, and I definitely didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t trust you. I got jealous, and I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t fair to you. You’ve been my best friend for so long, and I let my emotions get the best of me. I’m sorry.”

You felt a rush of relief, but it was quickly mixed with the lingering disappointment. “Keigo,” you said gently, “I’m glad you’re apologizing. But you can’t just act like that without talking to me. I know you’re scared of ruining things, but we can’t move forward if we’re not honest with each other. I can’t be the only one who’s putting in the effort.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and then his voice came through, softer and more sincere than you’d ever heard. “I know. And you’re right. I messed up. I should’ve trusted you more.”

Before you could respond, you heard a knock on your window, the soft tap-tapping against the glass. You stood up, confused, and pulled back the curtain. There, hovering outside, was Keigo.

He was grinning, but there was an apology in his eyes, genuine and deep.

“Keigo?” you asked in disbelief, a small laugh escaping you.

“I’ve been thinking about everything I said,” he called out to you, his voice carrying through the open window. “I didn’t mean it. Can I make it up to you?”

You opened the window, still unsure of what he meant, but the next thing you knew, Keigo was gently lifting you out of your apartment, his strong arms securing you in his grip. He held you bridal style, his hands warm and firm around your waist, and you felt an unfamiliar fluttering in your chest.

“Keigo, what are you—?”

“I’ve got you,” he said with that familiar smirk, but there was no mistaking the sincerity in his voice. “You’re not getting away from me that easily.”

Before you could respond, you felt the world drop beneath you as he shot into the sky, soaring upwards, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck. The wind rushed through your hair as you were carried effortlessly through the night air, his grip around you never faltering. You had never felt so weightless in your life, but more than that, his hands around your waist felt steady and comforting. It was like he was holding you, but also like he was offering you something more, a promise that he wouldn’t let go.

The city lights sparkled below you, and you realized just how much you loved the feeling of his hands on your waist. There was something so grounding about it, so safe. You were in the air, far above the city, and yet with him holding you, you felt like nothing could touch you.

As he gently landed on a rooftop, you looked around and noticed the setup: a blanket laid out in the middle of the roof, fairy lights strung across the perimeter, and a small table with some food and drinks. The entire rooftop was transformed into a cozy, intimate little space just for the two of you.

Keigo set you down slowly, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment longer than necessary, as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go. He looked at you with a softness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before, and you could feel your heart skip a beat.

“You did all this?” you asked, the surprise evident in your voice. “Keigo, this is… this is so much.”

He chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair, looking a little sheepish. “I wanted to make it up to you. I know I screwed up. And I know that I can’t just expect things to be the same without putting in the effort.”

You smiled, your heart warming at his genuine apology. But as you sat down on the blanket, you couldn’t help but call him out on something.

“You know,” you said, your voice still soft but teasing, “you can’t just go around getting mad and then expect to swoop in like a knight in shining armor. You can’t just fly in with grand gestures every time you mess up.”

He laughed, sitting down next to you and meeting your eyes with that familiar grin. “I know. But this time, I think I needed to do something special. To show you how sorry I really am.”

You looked at him for a moment, the weight of everything settling between you. Then, suddenly, you felt the tears welling up in your eyes. The combination of the evening’s events—the confusion, the frustration, and now this sweetness—was almost too much.

Keigo’s expression softened immediately, and before you could say anything, he pulled you into a gentle hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. He buried his face in your hair, his voice a soft murmur against your ear. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry for what I said. And I won’t let that happen again, I promise.”

You sniffled, clutching onto him tightly, your heart full of everything you couldn’t put into words. “I just don’t want us to get messed up, Keigo. I never want to lose you. But we can’t keep doing this if we don’t communicate.”

“I know. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll make sure of it.”

Keigo held you for a moment longer, letting you settle into the warmth of his embrace. You could feel his sincerity, his regret, and his love in the way he held you. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you finally felt like everything might just work out between you two.

“I’m not going anywhere, Y/N,” he whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

After some time, your body relaxed a bit, and you took a shaky breath, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. “Keigo… why did you really get so upset at the gala?”

He exhaled, his fingers tightening slightly on your waist before he slowly let them drop. “Because I was jealous,” he admitted, his voice low but unwavering. “I saw you with All Might, saw everyone looking at you, complimenting you, and I realized… I hated it.”

Your brows furrowed. “Keigo, we were just—”

“I know,” he interrupted gently. “I know you weren’t actually interested in anyone there. But that’s not the point. The point is, I’ve been watching people admire you for years, and I thought I was fine with it. I thought I could keep playing the role of your best friend and ignore how I really felt.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Keigo let out a soft chuckle, though there was no humor in it. “But when I saw you at that gala, looking so damn beautiful in red, my color, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn’t want to be just your best friend anymore. I wanted to be the one you looked at like that. I wanted to be the one who got to hold you, dance with you, take you home at the end of the night.”

His confession sent warmth rushing through your entire body. The weight of his words settled over you, and suddenly, every lingering touch, every lingering gaze, every ridiculous flirtation from him over the years made perfect sense.

Keigo took a slow step closer, reaching up to cup your cheek with a feather-light touch. “I love you, Y/N. I think I’ve loved you since we first met, since the first time we fought side by side. And I was an idiot for not telling you sooner.”

Your breath hitched, your heart hammering against your ribs.

“I love you,” he repeated, softer this time, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “And I don’t expect you to feel the same way just because I finally got my act together. But I needed you to know.”

You swallowed, your emotions a tangled mess of shock, warmth, and something undeniably deep. “Keigo…” you whispered.

And then you laughed, shaking your head at yourself. “God, I’m so oblivious, aren’t I?”

A startled chuckle escaped him. “A little,” he admitted. “But that’s one of the things I love about you.”

You bit your lip, taking a deep breath before finally, finally, letting yourself say the words you didn’t even know had been resting on the tip of your tongue all this time.

“I love you, too, Keigo.”

His eyes widened, and for the first time, you saw real vulnerability in them.

You smiled, reaching up to rest your hand over his. “I think I’ve always loved you, too. I just… I didn’t realize it. But now that I do, I don’t want to ignore it.”

His breath hitched, and then suddenly, he was pulling you into his arms, holding you so tight it was like he was afraid you’d disappear. You felt him press his forehead against yours, his wings twitching behind him.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he whispered.

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I think I have an idea.”

Keigo pulled back just enough to look at you, his golden eyes flickering between yours and your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled. “I’d be mad if you didn’t.”

And with that, he closed the distance, pressing his lips against yours in a kiss that was warm, deep, and overflowing with everything he had been holding back for so long. It wasn’t rushed or desperate, it was just Keigo, real and unguarded, giving you every part of himself.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, he grinned at you, his hands still firm on your waist.

“So,” he murmured, “can I officially steal you away for real now?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “You already did, dumbass.”

He grinned wider, pressing another quick kiss to your forehead before pulling you back into his arms, holding you close as the city lights twinkled below.

[handsoffmyscarfsherlock]

It's my 8 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

Thankful for all the love, glad you guys enjoy 🥰

[handsoffmyscarfsherlock]

Featherlight Flirtations | Part 2

hawks x reader

Summary: The long-awaited dinner turns into a night of teasing and surrender as Hawks finally gets the girl—and the shirt off her.

Warnings: (light) praise kink, slight NSFW

Note: Here's what we've all been waiting for! Thank you all for your kind words about the first part. I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, just a reminder, requests are open!

The apartment is quiet except for the hum of the city outside your window. The soft glow of your lamp casts golden light over the living room. Your couch is soft against your back as you type out a message. 

You: Dinner, huh?

Hawks (Birdbrain): That’s right, sweetheart.

You: I feel like you tricked me into this.

Hawks (Birdbrain): Me? Trick you? Nooo. I just happened to show up at your place and remind you that you agreed to go out with me. Totally normal hero behavior.

You: Do all your rescues involve this much harassment?

Hawks (Birdbrain): Only the cute ones ;)

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth on your face wasn’t from annoyance. This man was relentless. A part deep down in your gut tried to remind you that you didn’t actually hate it.

You: Fine. Where are we going?

Hawks (Birdbrain): Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?

You: I swear to god—

Hawks (Birdbrain): Relax, babe. I’ll pick you up at 7. Wear something nice… but not too nice.

You: Why not too nice?

Hawks (Birdbrain): Because I still wanna see you in that Hawks shirt later.

You stared at your screen.

Then, with an audible groan, you threw your phone across the couch.

When 7 PM rolled around, you expected Hawks to swoop in dramatically through your window, but instead, there was a polite knock at your door.

You opened it to find him leaning against the frame, hands stuffed in his pockets, signature smirk firmly in place.

“Didn’t feel like breaking and entering today?” you teased.

“I’m trying to be a respectable dinner date,” he said smoothly, giving you a slow once-over. “And damn, sweetheart, you’re making that really difficult.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the way his stare made your stomach flip. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” He held out his arm with a lazy grin. “Walk with me?”

You arched a brow. “No flying?”

“Figured we’d keep our feet on the ground for now. Build some anticipation,” he said, winking.

You huffed but slipped your arm through his anyway, feeling the warmth of him even through his jacket.

You should’ve expected Hawks to be a menace the moment you stepped outside together, but somehow, you still weren’t prepared.

“So,” he started, hands stuffed in his pockets, wings tucked neatly behind him, “You nervous?”

You shot him a look. “Why would I be nervous?”

He smirked. “Because you’re on a date with me.”

You snorted. “This isn’t a date.”

“Oh?” He arched a brow. “Two attractive people, going out to dinner, walking together under the city lights, what part of that isn’t a date?”

You gave him an unimpressed stare. “The part where you tricked me into agreeing.”

Hawks laughed, nudging you lightly with his elbow. “Details, details.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the tiny smile tugging at your lips.

“So, how does a big-shot hero even have time for casual dinner outings?” you asked, glancing up at him.

“Ah, you know.” He waved a hand. “I just pencil it in between saving lives and looking ridiculously good.”

“Right, of course.” You nodded solemnly. “That must be exhausting for you.”

“Oh, it is, sweetheart.” He sighed dramatically. “But I power through.”

“Truly inspiring.”

“Glad you think so,” he said, flashing you a grin. “Maybe I should start a fan club.”

You smirked. “You already have one.”

Hawks let out a mocked gasp. “So you do keep up with me.”

Your eyes roll on reflex. You walked into that one. Before you could retort, Hawks nudged your side, voice dropping slightly. “Just admit it, you’re a little excited for tonight.”

You were, but there was no way in hell you were going to give him the satisfaction.

So instead, you scoffed, “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t embarrass me in public.”

He pressed a hand to his chest, mock-offended. “Me? Embarrass you?”

You sighed. “I have made a grave mistake.”

Hawks just grinned, smug as ever.

The rest of the walk was nice, casual, filled with easy conversation and the occasional stolen glance. Hawks, despite being a relentless flirt, was good company. He made you laugh, teased you just enough to keep you on your toes, and somehow always managed to keep the conversation light but interesting.

By the time you reached the restaurant, you realized how relaxed you were in his presence. 

It was a cozy little place with warm lighting and the smell of grilled food greeting you as you stepped inside. The hostess, upon recognizing Hawks, immediately flushed and stammered out a greeting.

“Table for two,” he said smoothly, winking at the poor girl.

You sighed. “Do you have to do that to every woman you meet?”

“What, be charming?” He pulled out a chair for you with an exaggerated flourish. “I can’t just turn it off, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes but sat down, watching as he settled in across from you, resting his chin on his palm. “So,” he drawled. “What’s your guilty pleasure food?”

You glanced at the menu. “Probably anything deep-fried.”

His eyes lit up. “Ohh, see, I knew I liked you.”

Dinner was… fun. More fun than you expected. Hawks was effortlessly charismatic, switching between playful teasing and genuine conversation so seamlessly that you never had a chance to feel awkward.

At one point, as the waiter set down your drinks, Hawks leaned forward, smirking. “So, real talk,” he said. “How long have you been a fan?”

You blinked. “A fan?”

He gestured toward you vaguely. “Of me. I mean, you do own official Hawks merch.”

You groaned. “I told you—it was on sale.”

“Mm-hmm.” He took a slow sip of his drink, watching you over the rim. “You’re telling me you didn’t specifically pick that shirt?”

You glared. “I hate you.”

He grinned. “No, you don’t.”

He was right. You hated that he was right.

You stared at him across the table, your drink halfway to your lips. “God, you’re so full of yourself.”

He leaned forward on his elbows, chin resting lazily on his hand, wings rustling just slightly behind him as if they were also enjoying the moment. “Confidence, baby. It’s part of the charm.”

You scoffed, but there was warmth in your chest you couldn’t quite shake. He was ridiculous, charming in the most infuriating way. And yet here you were, still sitting across from him, still smiling despite yourself.

He caught the corner of your smirk and pointed at it smugly. “There it is. The smile. Finally cracked you.”

“I smiled because I’m imagining throwing my fork at your face,” you deadpanned.

He laughed, low and easy. “You’re cute when you’re violent.”

“Are you flirting with me or trying to get stabbed?”

“Why not both?”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a grin, but he didn’t let up. His gaze softened just a bit, gold eyes warming as they lingered on you longer than you expected.

“But seriously…” His voice lowered, the teasing pulling back just enough to feel like something real. “I’m glad you came.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the sincerity tucked between all the usual cockiness.

He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze for a moment like he wasn’t used to being too genuine in the open. “I know I give you a hard time, but… this? It’s nice.”

You looked down at your glass, suddenly hyperaware of how close your knees were under the table, of how his boot had bumped yours once, maybe twice now.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, then glanced up at him again. “It is.”

His smile was slower this time. Not the smirk he usually wore like a second skin, this one was quieter, warmer—a little disarming.

You took a sip of wine, mostly to distract yourself from how that look was making your stomach flutter.

He leaned back in his chair, lips twitching. “So… does this mean I get a second date? Or should I wait until after dessert before begging?”

“Begging?” You raised an eyebrow. “Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

He grinned. “Not if you say it like that.”

You choked on your drink.

He definitely did that on purpose.

You wiped your mouth with your napkin, muttering, “You are a menace.”

“And you’re gorgeous when you blush. Damn,” he whistled low. “Keep wearing that expression, and I will beg.”

You shoved his shoulder lightly across the table. “You’re impossible.”

“But you’re still here,” he said softly, with a wink that made it clear, beneath all the flirting, there was something real building here. This time, you didn’t feel like running away. 

After dinner, as the two of you stood just outside the cozy restaurant, city lights glowing in the distance, the buzz of evening traffic softened by the quiet laughter shared between you, Hawks turned to you with that familiar sparkle in his eyes.

“So,” he said, stretching his arms overhead like it had totally been an exhausting task being utterly charming all evening, “How about I fly you home?”

You raised an eyebrow, your arms folding across your chest. “You sure you won’t drop me this time?”

His grin was instant. “Come on, sweetheart. You loved it last time.”

“I screamed the whole time.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. Out of joy. I’m very familiar with the sound of joyful screaming.”

You snorted. “Lies.”

“Okay, okay,” he held up both hands in mock surrender, wings giving a dramatic flutter behind him. “No rogue dives, no pretending to drop you. I’ll behave… mostly.” Then he held out his hand to you, palm up. “Trust me?”

You hesitated, eyes on his open hand. His fingers twitched slightly—nervous? No, Hawks didn’t do nervous. But you could see it in the way he tilted his head, just enough softness behind that confident smirk.

So, you took a breath and slid your hand into his.

His fingers curled around yours, warm and solid, like they’d been waiting for that moment.

“Atta girl,” he murmured, then leaned in, voice low in your ear, “Didn’t think you’d make me work for a handhold, but damn, the payoff’s nice.”

You rolled your eyes, lips twitching as you tried not to smile. “Shut up and fly, bird boy.”

He didn’t answer, not with words. Just scooped you up effortlessly, one arm under your thighs, the other snug around your back. You let out a tiny squeak as your feet leave the ground.

“This feel familiar?” he teased, lifting you slightly higher just to make you squirm. “Or should I do a dramatic leap into the sky like a true prince?”

“I swear to god, Keigo, if you twirl—”

“Ohhh, so we’re on a first-name basis now?” he said, eyes wide, full of mock surprise. “Didn’t realize dinner came with emotional intimacy.”

You gave him a light smack to the chest, but you didn’t deny it.

And truthfully? It felt easier this time. Your arms weren’t locked around his neck in panic, your breath wasn’t shallow with nerves. You were… okay. More than okay, actually. Maybe it was the lingering buzz of wine or the way the city looked softer from this height, glowing golden below you.

Or maybe it was just him.

Then, as the cool night air rushed around you and his wings began their rhythmic beat, you noticed something.

“Wait,” you said, pulling back just slightly. “Do you… do you have a playlist for flying?”

He grinned like a man with no shame because, well, he was. “Obviously. You think I don’t have a soundtrack to my life?”

You blinked. “Oh my god.”

“Wanna listen?” he asked, holding out a wireless earbud between two fingers like it was a peace offering.

Curious, you took it, slipping it in just as the soft strumming of a guitar began to play. The song was gentle, almost nostalgic, with warm chords and breathy vocals. Nothing dramatic. Nothing loud. Just… peaceful.

“You’re seriously listening to this while doing aerial flips and flying through clouds?” you asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

He smirked, glancing down at you as he adjusted his hold slightly. “You expected trap beats or something?”

“I expected… chaos. Sirens. Cartoon sound effects. A rooster crowing.”

“Wow,” he said, deeply offended. “That’s hurtful. But fair.”

You laughed softly, and after a beat, you let your head rest against his chest. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear, strong and reassuring. It matched the music almost too perfectly.

“You good?” he asked, his voice softer now, mouth close to your hair.

You nodded, eyes fluttering shut. “Yeah… this is nice.”

He smiled—felt like he smiled, even if you didn’t look. You could feel the warmth in the way his arms tightened just slightly around you, as if tucking you closer.

“Told ya,” he murmured.

You let yourself sink into him a little more, the warmth of his body melting into the cold wind around you. The city below faded into a distant blur, and all you could hear was music, wings, and the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

By the time your feet touched the balcony, you were warm, not just from the lingering heat of the wine or the late-night air curling around you but from him. From the way he held you like you weighed nothing, like flying with you wasn’t a chore but a privilege. The way his arms hadn’t once faltered, the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek the whole way home.

He set you down gently, but his hands… didn’t leave. They lingered low at your waist, fingers curling around the hem of your jacket like he wasn’t quite ready to let go.

“You gonna invite me in?” he asked, head tilted, hair tousled by the wind. His eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was something beneath it. A softness. Maybe even hope.

You hesitated for only a moment before sighing. “Fine. But no funny business.”

He grinned, full of mock offense. “Who, me? Never.”

Of course, the moment you flopped onto the couch, exhausted and mildly tipsy, he followed right after, sprawling across the cushions like it was his place instead of yours.

“Make yourself comfortable, why don’t you?” you muttered, eyeing the way he had his wings half-folded, half-draped over the back of your furniture like velvet throws.

“Oh, I plan to.” He propped himself up on one elbow, his eyes following you as you stood.

“Where you going?”

“To change,” you called back, pausing in the hallway. “You did say to get comfy, right?”

He gave a knowing hum that made you instantly suspicious. “Mm-hmm.”

You could feel his gaze even from the next room. You opened your drawer and stared. There it was, folded neatly on top.

The Hawks shirt.

Worn soft and oversized, emblazoned with a bold wing design. The merch item was actually from a charity event you’d gone to ages ago, never expecting the man himself would someday end up on your couch.

And maybe it was the wine. Or the way his voice still echoed in your head. Or maybe you just wanted to see what he’d say.

But when you stepped back into the living room, wearing nothing but that damn shirt and a pair of sleep shorts underneath, it was like everything paused.

His gaze landed on you immediately, and it stayed. He didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe.

Then, a slow, hungry smirk curled his lips.

“Oh,” he said, his voice suddenly low, warm, and undeniably dangerous. “Now that is just unfair.”

You crossed your arms. “If you say one word—”

“I love that you wore it for me.”

“I didn’t—”

“You so did.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, but heat was already blooming in your chest, flushing your neck. You moved to sit beside him, only for him to grab your wrist and tug you down onto his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Hey—!”

But his hands were already sliding under the hem, palms hot against your bare waist. You froze, the sudden contact sparking every nerve under your skin.

“You shy, sweetheart?” he murmured, his lips barely grazing your throat.

You stiffened, your heartbeat kicking hard against your ribs. You weren’t used to this, being seen like this. Soft. A little vulnerable. Wanted.

“I—”

He chuckled, the sound dark and soft and maddening. “Cute,” he muttered.

His fingers slid higher, just the whisper of skin on skin as he pushed the fabric up inch by inch, teasing and slow. You tried to keep your breathing steady, but it was useless. Every touch lit you up.

“You can hide behind this shirt all you want,” he purred, “but you’re still gonna end up in my hands.”

And god, if that didn’t make your stomach flip.

Then, his lips moved. Hot, open-mouthed kisses traced up your throat, over your pulse, lingering just long enough to make you squirm. His hands gripped your hips firmly, grounding you. Guiding you.

“Let me take my time with you,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear. “You can be shy all you want; it just means I get to tease you longer.”

The way he said it—like a promise, not a threat—left you breathless.

His lips were everywhere, hot and exploring. Never in one place too long. His hands roamed your waist, then slid down to grip your thighs, pulling you more fully onto his lap. Your legs parted instinctively, now straddling him, the press of his body against yours unmistakable.

And he knew. Oh, he knew.

His smirk brushed against your skin. “See? That’s not so scary, is it?”

Your body tensed. Heat bloomed low in your belly. And you knew, you knew, he could feel it. But you couldn’t let him have the last word. So you leaned in close, lips brushing the shell of his ear, and whispered, “You talk too much.”

The growl that rumbled from his chest made your skin flush all over.

His hands tightened. “Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice sharp with hunger. “You wanna play it like that?”

You didn’t get the chance to answer.

In one smooth motion, he flipped you beneath him, your back pressing into the couch cushions as his body hovered above yours. His wings shadowed you both, cocooning the moment, making the room feel like it had shrunk to just you and him.

Golden eyes roamed over you, hungry, dark, and burning.

“Let’s see how shy you are now,” he muttered, and then—

His mouth crashed onto yours.

There was no hesitation, no gentleness. Just heat. His kiss devoured you, leaving no room to think. His tongue slid against yours, his hands greedy as they roamed your body, up your sides, under your shirt, palms wide and rough and wanting.

He pulled back just long enough to yank the shirt off you in one fluid motion, tossing it over his shoulder like it meant nothing.

But the look he gave you after?

Like you were everything.

“Shit,” he whispered, eyes drinking you in. “No shirt, nothing to hide… you’re so goddamn perfect it’s not even fair. Look at you—so pretty, so good for me. You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?”

Then he was kissing you again, trailing down your throat, across your collarbone, and lower, slow, burning kisses that had your spine arching. His mouth teased, his hands exploring every inch of skin like he needed to memorize you.

You gasped as his fingers slid beneath the waistband of your shorts. He paused, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“Still shy?” he asked, voice low and rough.

But your answer wasn’t a word; it was a moan, soft and desperate, as your hips lifted into his touch.

His smile returned, wicked and proud.

And when his hands finally dipped past the last barrier between you—

You weren’t shy anymore. You were his, laid beneath him, claimed in every kiss, every breathless whisper, every worshipful touch. And in that moment, wrapped up in his warmth, his praise, his need, you didn’t want to be anything else.

Because with him, like this, you felt seen.

Desired.

Home.

And god help you, you wanted more.

[handsoffmyscarfsherlock]

Sneak peak of part two of Featherlight Flirtations… coming tomorrow 👀

[handsoffmyscarfsherlock]

Featherlight Flirtations

hawks x reader

Summary: A chance encounter with Pro Hero Hawks turns into relentless flirting, playful chaos, and a growing attraction that’s impossible to ignore.

Warnings: None!

You were having a great morning. Fresh air, a light workload, and—most importantly—a perfect cup of coffee.

Then, suddenly, he happened.

A blur of red and gold collided with you, and before you could react, hot coffee drenched your shirt. The hot coffee begins to heat your front, feeling similar to the embarrassing flush crawling up your neck and face. 

“Oh—shit, sorry! Didn’t see ya there.”

You barely had time to process the words before looking up, way up, into a pair of golden eyes, partially obscured by red-tinted sunglasses. Hawks. 

“Oh my god,” you breathed, not believing who stood in front of you. 

He smirked. “You a fan?”

“No,” you deadpanned, peeling your soaked shirt away from your skin. “I just say that whenever I get second-degree burns.”

Hawks winced. “Yeah, fair. Here, let me—” A feather plucked a wad of napkins from a nearby table and zipped them toward you before you could protest.

You snatched them from the air, dabbing at your shirt. “Thanks, but I think the damage is done.”

“At least let me make it up to you,” he offered. “New coffee? Dry-cleaning bill? Dinner?” He grinned. “Autograph?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll take the coffee.”

“Deal.”

And that was how you found yourself sitting at a café table with Pro Hero Hawks, sipping a fresh latte while he shamelessly flirted with you.

“So,” he mused, golden eyes locked on yours, “is this the part where you forgive me?”

“For scalding me with hot coffee?” You scoff. 

“Exactly.” He grinned. “I feel awful, really. Ruined your morning. Drenched your shirt. Completely wrecked your trust in pro heroes.”

You huffed in slight annoyance. “I’ll survive.”

“But will our relationship?” He sighed dramatically. “It was love at first spill, and now you’re acting all cold.”

You nearly choked on your drink. “Love at first—? Oh my god.”

Hawks smirked. “What? You don’t believe in fate?”

“Not when it involves coffee casualties.”

“C’mon,” he drawled, propping his chin in his hand. “There’s something poetic about it. A hero crashes into a beautiful stranger, drenches her in caffeine, then sweeps her off her feet—”

“—buys her a replacement coffee,” you corrected, “because he has a guilty conscience.”

“Guilty? Who, me?” He pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Nah. I just wanted an excuse to sit across from a pretty girl.”

Heat crept up your neck. “You are unbelievable.”

“I’ve heard worse.” He leaned forward, voice dropping into something lower, smoother. “So, tell me, Coffee Girl—what do I gotta do to make this up to you?”

His voice curled around your spine, and you knew he was enjoying watching you squirm.

You swirled your coffee lazily, fighting a smirk. “You could start by promising not to bowl me over in the street again.”

Hawks hummed, tilting his head. “That’s a tough one. What if it’s just fate trying to push us together?”

You smirked. “Fate’s pushy.”

“I prefer persistent.” His foot nudged yours under the table, feather-light but deliberate. “What about dinner? That enough to get me back in your good graces?”

“Tempting,” you admitted, enjoying the game now. “But who says you deserve redemption?”

His eyes gleamed. “Guess I’ll just have to prove myself, huh?”

And judging by the way he was looking at you, like a challenge he fully intended to win, you had no doubt he would try.

Days later, while walking home at night, you heard an all-too-familiar sound:

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You sighed. Why is it always alleys?

Three men stepped into your path, grinning like they had the upper hand. The way they stood made a chill rush up your spine, holding themselves like predators. Ready to attack at a moment's notice. 

You squared your shoulders. “Not interested.”

One of them chuckled. “C’mon, don’t be like that.”

You were this close to just kicking the guy in the shin when—

“Y’know,” a familiar voice chimed, “she said she’s not interested.”

Red wings cast a shadow overhead before Hawks landed in front of you, arms crossed, smirking. Immediately, your eyes roll in annoyance, gazing upon your savior. 

The thugs froze, staring at his giant wings, looking him up and down. 

You blinked. “Seriously? You again?”

Hawks glanced at you. “Oh hey, Coffee Girl.” Then he turned to the thugs. “I’d run if I were you.”

They bolted. 

You exhaled. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to see you again.” His eyes wander for a moment to take you in. A part of you would say he’s checking to make sure you’re ok, however, you genuinely suspect he’s admiring other things. 

You gave him a look. “You could’ve just asked for my number.”

Hawks grinned. “You sayin’ I’m not normal?”

“You’re wearing aviators at night.”

“Touché.”

He offered you his arm. “C’mon, I’ll fly you home.”

Flying with Hawks was… an experience.

You clung to him as he soared over the city, arms locked around his neck, legs wrapped around his waist because, obviously, there were no seatbelts in midair.

“Y’know,” he mused, voice dripping with amusement, “for someone who plays it cool, you’re really holding on tight.”

You shot him a glare. “Because I don’t have wings, Hawks.”

His grin widened. “Nah, but you do have me.”

Your stomach flipped, partly from his words, partly from the fact that he tilted you slightly mid-flight just to mess with you.

You tightened your grip. “I swear to God—”

“Relax,” he laughed. “I’d never drop you.”

His arm shifted beneath you, adjusting your position against him, and that’s when you felt it.

A hand. Lower than necessary.

Your eyes snapped to his face. “Excuse me?”

Hawks gave you his most innocent smile. “Somethin’ wrong?”

Your grip on his jacket tightened. “Your hand is a little low.”

He tilted his head, feigning confusion. “Is it?”

“Hawks.”

His smirk deepened. “Just making sure you’re secure, sweetheart.”

You glared. “If you don’t move your hand, I will jump.”

He snorted. “Babe, the only way you’re getting outta my arms right now—” he suddenly let go with one hand, leaving you dangling slightly, your stomach plummeting—“is if I drop you.”

A startled shriek ripped from your throat. “HAWKS!”

He immediately caught you again, laughing so hard his wings shook. “Oh man, that was cute.”

Your heart was about to beat out of your chest. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” He smirked, holding you a little closer now, his arms firm around you. “You trust me.”

You wanted to argue. You really did. But the way he was holding you—solid, secure, safe—had you biting your tongue.

You exhaled, grumbling. “Next time, I’m taking a taxi.”

“Sure you are,” he teased, nuzzling into your hair for just a second before tilting his head down, voice softer now. “You doin’ okay?”

You hesitated—because yeah, he was a menace, but he was also making sure you were comfortable.

“…Yeah,” you admitted, relaxing just slightly.

Hawks grinned. “Told ya.”

His arms shifted again, adjusting your weight just right as his wings curved to slow your descent.

“Hold on tight, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice dipping into something low and smooth. “Landing’s the best part.”

You swore he meant more than just the flight.

You landed safely, and Hawks set you down on your balcony.

“Well,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “guess I should go before you call the cops on me.”

You smirked. “I’d need your number for that.”

His grin widened. “Now we’re talkin’.”

And just like that, Hawks had your number.

Finally, you were home. Entering in from your balcony, you flop onto your couch. You start scrolling mindlessly through your phone when it vibrates in your hand.

Hawks (aka Best Hero Ever): Hey, Coffee Girl. What’s up?

A smirk tugged at your lips. You should’ve known he wouldn’t wait long to text you.

You: Trying to forget that nickname.

Hawks (aka Best Hero Ever): No can do. It’s yours now.

You rolled your eyes, but your stomach still did that annoying little flip.

You: Rude.

Hawks (aka Best Hero Ever): Hey, I could’ve called you “Screams-Like-a-Baby-When-Dropped Girl.”

Your jaw dropped.

You: EXCUSE ME??

Hawks (aka Best Hero Ever): Oh, I didn’t stutter.

You grabbed a couch pillow and launched it across the room like it was somehow his face.

You: First of all, you LITERALLY let me go midair. Second, I didn’t scream like a baby.

Hawks (aka Best Hero Ever): Babe, you made dolphin noises.

Heat rushed to your face.

You: I hope you trip over your own wings.

Hawks (aka Best Hero Ever): Wow. That’s cold.

You chewed your lip, debating if you should keep the conversation going. It was probably smarter to stop engaging with him, but… you didn’t want to stop.

You hesitated before typing:

You: Why are you even texting me, Birdbrain? Don’t you have hero things to do?

His reply came immediately.

Hawks (aka Best Hero Ever): Maybe this IS hero work. Maybe I’m saving you from a lonely, boring night.

You huffed, but the warmth creeping up your neck was undeniable.

You: So you’re saying I’m pathetic?

Hawks (aka Best Hero Ever): Nah. Just saying your night got a whole lot better since I texted.

You should have called him out on his ego. You should have shut this whole thing down.

Instead, you typed:

You: You’re awfully confident for a guy who got rejected for dinner…

For a second, no reply came.

Then—

Hawks (aka Best Hero Ever): Wait.

Hawks (aka Best Hero Ever): Hold up.

Hawks (aka Best Hero Ever): Are you saying if I asked AGAIN, you’d say yes?

Your lips twitched.

You: I don’t know. Are you gonna drop me out of the sky again?

Hawks (aka Best Hero Ever): Hmmm. Maybe. Guess you’ll just have to trust me.

Your stomach did that thing again. The annoying thing.

You sighed, shaking your head. You were so screwed.

You: Fine. One dinner.

You barely had time to process what you’d done before your phone buzzed again.

Hawks (aka Best Hero Ever): Hope you don’t regret that, sweetheart.

You groaned, flopping back against the couch. You already did.

After that wild ride of a text conversation, a cold shower was calling your name. You were back in business in your comfiest outfit, AKA an oversized Hawks T-shirt that was way too big to be anything but pure comfort. You weren’t proud of it, but it was soft, damn it. And maybe, just maybe, a part of you found it a little funny to be wearing his logo after the coffee fiasco. You would never admit that you admired the winged hero, long before you had actually met him. 

You had just finished brushing your teeth when you heard the tap, tap, tap on your window.

You froze.

There is no way.

Slowly, you turned your head, and sure enough—there he was.

Hawks stood outside your balcony, smirking, golden eyes glinting through his red-tinted glasses. His wings shifted lazily behind him, catching the city lights like molten fire.

You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. “Good god, how many times do I have to see you in a day?”

He grinned. “What can I say? You’re my favorite part of it.”

You gaped at him, heat creeping up your neck. Shameless. He was completely shameless.

Then, as if the universe despised you, a gust of wind breezed through your apartment, ruffling the oversized T-shirt you were wearing.

Your Hawks T-shirt.

The realization hit instantly.

His gaze locked onto the bold golden logo emblazoned across your chest. His smirk curled into something positively wicked.

“Oh,” he drawled, stepping through the balcony door like he owned the place. “Now, this is interesting.”

You instinctively yanked the hem down, trying to also cover the fact that you only had panties on underneath it. “It was on sale!”

Hawks hummed, pretending to consider. “Mmm. That’s one theory.” He took another slow step forward. “Or maybe…” His fingers grazed the fabric at your hip, teasing. “You just wanted to feel close to me.”

Your stomach flipped. “You are insufferable.”

“And yet…” His hand trailed up the side of your waist, bunching the fabric ever so slightly. His smirk deepened. “You’re still wearing my name to bed.”

Your breath hitched. He was so close now, heat radiating off him in waves.

“Didn’t say when.”

You blinked. “What?”

His eyes flickered with mischief. “Dinner.” He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “I never said when I was taking you out.”

A full-body shiver wracked through you. His voice was too smooth, too warm, wrapping around you like silk.

You swallowed. “I—I need you to leave.”

He chuckled, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. “Are you sure?”

No. Absolutely not.

“Positive,” you lied.

Hawks grinned, then—just as quickly as he had stepped in—he backed off, making his way toward the balcony.

“Alright, alright,” he sighed, stretching. “I’ll let you off easy this time.”

Then he turned back one last time, flashing you a smirk over his shoulder.

“But don’t think I didn’t notice…” His voice dropped to a husky murmur. “That’s definitely not the only thing you’ve thought about wearing for me.”

And with that, the bastard winked at you. He winked like he hadn’t just sent your brain into a full meltdown.

Then, he was gone.

You exhaled, knees buckling, hands shaking, heart pounding.

You were so, so doomed.

[handsoffmyscarfsherlock]

Thanks for allowing me to request, you’re like, an amazing writer and I love the way you write idk if that sounds odd or anything!

Can you write about reader just waking up and is partly asleep and mumbles something about her forgetting to do something (reality she already did her tasks) and she tries to get up, but Tanjiro just slowly lays her head back down on the pillow calming her down saying “angel, you don’t need to do anything, relax.” And he’s like rubbing circles around her cheek with his thumb. Thank you if you do this request and PLEASE take your time :)

I might request again another time, but by then you’d call me by a certain emoji anon! (Not now though ;3 )

SURPRISE! Two posts in one day!

Hi Anon! Sorry for such the late response, I'm always willing to write and take requests. Your kind words are incredibly heart warming and I couldn't be more thankful. Hopefully, this was worth the long wait.

Rest, my love

Tanjiro Kamado x reader

Summary: Half-asleep and convinced she’s forgotten something, the reader stirs in a panic—only for Tanjiro to gently soothe her back to sleep.

Warning: None!

A soft glow filtered through the shoji screen, painting the room in hues of early morning gold. The air was still, the quiet only disturbed by the distant chirping of birds and the rhythmic rise and fall of Tanjiro’s breathing beside you.

You stirred beneath the warmth of the blanket, caught between the hazy edges of sleep and wakefulness. Your mind felt muddled, thoughts slipping through your fingers like sand. Something… something wasn’t right. Had you forgotten to do something?

Your lips parted, voice thick with drowsiness.

“I forgot… I forgot to—”

Your body sluggishly tried to follow the panicked thought, pushing yourself onto your elbow, only for a warm, steady hand to press against your shoulder. Tanjiro’s touch was soft but firm, his calloused fingers brushing lightly over your skin as he guided your head back onto the pillow..

“Angel,” his voice was a quiet murmur, dipped in tenderness, “you don’t need to do anything. Relax.”

His thumb brushed slow, soothing circles against your cheek, grounding you, melting away the restless energy that had barely begun to stir in you. His warmth was intoxicating, his scent—earthy and comforting, like rain-soaked cedar—wrapping around you like a lullaby.

“But I—” you mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

His forehead pressed lightly against yours, his breath fanning over your skin in a way that made your eyelashes flutter. “You already did everything, remember?” His smile was soft, reassuring. “Just rest.”

You blinked up at him through half-lidded eyes, your sleep-addled mind still struggling to let go of the phantom worry tugging at you. But Tanjiro—his warmth, his steady voice, the way his fingers traced gentle patterns along your skin—he was so grounding, so achingly tender. It was impossible to resist the comfort he provided.

Still, you reached up weakly, your hand clumsily finding his wrist as if to anchor yourself. “You sure…?”

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Mhm,” he hummed, his free hand brushing the stray strands of hair from your face, tucking them behind your ear with an almost reverent touch. “You’re always so hardworking, my love… but right now, you don’t have to do anything. Just let me take care of you.”

The words settled deep in your chest, warm and honey-sweet. Tanjiro had always been like this—selfless, patient, devoted. But there was something about the way he spoke to you now, in the softest of whispers, as if you were the most precious thing in the world, that made your heart squeeze.

Your grip on his wrist loosened as sleep began to pull you under once more, the weight of exhaustion finally winning. Tanjiro smiled as your body fully relaxed beneath his touch, your breathing growing slow and even.

He let his fingers linger against your cheek for a moment longer, his thumb still tracing those soft, lazy circles. Then, with the gentlest of movements, he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Sleep well, my love,” he whispered.

And with him there, his warmth anchoring you, his steady heartbeat a lullaby just for you, you did.

[handsoffmyscarfsherlock]

The Words We've Always Known

Tanjiro Kamado x reader

Summary: After a long mission, Tanjiro and the reader find themselves walking home together. There’s something unspoken between them—something that’s always been there, waiting to be said.

Warnings: None!

Note: Hi guys! I always apologize for my MIA moments. Two bits of good news: I am officially a licensed nurse! Also, I got engaged! Wedding planning has took up a LOT of my time. I'm coming back, I promise :)

The quiet hum of the night settled over the small village as you and Tanjiro walked side by side, your fingers brushing but never quite interlocking. The mission had ended successfully, and while exhaustion weighed on both of you, neither wanted the night to end just yet.

The streets were empty, the paper lanterns casting a golden glow over Tanjiro’s face. He looked peaceful, yet deep in thought, his usual bright eyes carrying a weight he hadn’t spoken about.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly, tilting your head to look at him.

Tanjiro blinked, startled out of his thoughts, and turned to you with a small, sheepish smile. “Yeah… I guess I just realized how much I cherish moments like this.”

You slowed your steps, watching him carefully. “Like what?”

“Being with you.”

Your heart did that familiar, rapid stutter in your chest—the one that always seemed to happen when Tanjiro spoke so earnestly. He never held back his feelings, always wore his heart on his sleeve, but tonight… tonight there was something different in his voice.

He suddenly stopped walking, and you turned to face him. The village lanterns flickered in his eyes, but it was something deeper, something only for you, that made your breath hitch.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck in that endearing way of his. “Every time we fight side by side, every time we laugh, every time you look at me with that determined look in your eyes—I realize more and more how much you mean to me.” He swallowed thickly, gathering his courage. “And I don’t want to wait anymore to say it.”

The air between you was still, save for the soft rustling of the wind.

“I love you, Y/N.”

The words sent warmth flooding through you, melting into your bones like the first rays of sunlight after a bitter winter. It was something you had known deep down, something unspoken between you both, but hearing it—hearing him say it—made it real in a way you hadn’t imagined.

A laugh, half-disbelieving, half-overwhelmed, bubbled from your lips. Tanjiro’s eyes widened slightly, as if worried you’d reject him, but you reached forward, taking his calloused hands in yours.

“Tanjiro,” you breathed, stepping closer. “I love you too.”

Relief washed over his features, and then pure, unfiltered joy. He let out a small laugh, squeezing your hands like he never wanted to let go. “Really?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Of course, really! Did you think I wouldn't?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I guess I just needed to hear it.”

With a grin, you leaned up, pressing a feather-light kiss to his cheek. His breath hitched, and when you pulled back, his face was glowing red.

“I’ll tell you as many times as you need, Tanjiro,” you murmured. “I love you.”

Tanjiro let out a breathy chuckle, resting his forehead against yours. “Then I’ll tell you just as much. I love you, Y/N. Always.”

The words, now spoken, lingered between you like an unbreakable promise. And as Tanjiro pulled you into a gentle, warm embrace, you knew—without a doubt—that you had always belonged to each other.

[handsoffmyscarfsherlock]

Doing great, thanks for asking!

are you still taking requests?

Yes I am! I apologize every time for the length that it might take to get it done, but I would love to write something for you! 💚

[handsoffmyscarfsherlock]

Hi!!

Hi Anon! How are you? 😊

[handsoffmyscarfsherlock]

It's my 6 year anniversary on Tumblr! 🥳

Thank you to everyone who enjoys and interacts with my posts! It genuinely means the world to me 💚

[handsoffmyscarfsherlock]

Before I request, I just wanna say that you write Tanjiro in the way that makes my stomach flutter and I love it. Thank you :)

So I grew up with nearly-to no affection, so I’m touch starved, big time. So reader wakes up at 2am to find that the side where Tanjiro was sleeping was empty, so she (tiredly) goes to find him and she sees him working on something (can be whatever) and she wraps her arms around his neck and she says “come to bed” I just love him sm he means everything to me <3

That’s all, take your time writing this as I value your mental health, thank you so much again! If you cant do the request, then you can disregard this :) 💕

Hello, my dear Anon! Thank you so much for your kind words. I adore writing Tanjiro more than anything, so it's my pleasure. I hope you like it!

Just as a mention, requests are open! :)

Midnight Slumbers

Tanjiro Kamado x Reader

Summary: When the reader wakes up and finds Tanjiro not in bed, matters have to be taken into their own hands. 

Warnings: Just some fluff!

The shift in consciousness, floating in between sleep and wake, that’s where you are. Your head is fuzzy from sleep but all you feel is warmth, the blanket soft against your bare legs. Silently stretching, you sprawl out aiming to touch your boyfriend, Tanjiro, without having to open your eyes. Your hands feel around the sheets trying to find him but merely grasp at nothing. The sheets are no longer warm from the heat of his body. You force your eyes open and blink trying to clear your vision.

Where did he- your thoughts are cut off when you see the door to your room slightly cracked open as if someone didn’t close it all the way to prevent you from waking up. Shuffling to the edge of the bed you slide off, feet hitting the cold floor. You grab the nearest haori to wrap around your cold shoulders. Setting off down the hall, your bare feet make the smallest amount of noise against the floor. You rub your eyes, trying to wake up enough to find your boyfriend. 

His spot on his bed was cold, so he's been gone for some time now. He wouldn’t be in the kitchen, he ate a lot at dinner. Where could he have possibly gone? Your thoughts, albeit sleepy, start to turn into a mild panic. Passing the door leading to the outside area, you see it unlocked. 

Found you.

You slowly try to open the door to prevent the creaking sound from echoing through the halls. Slipping through the opening you make your way outside, feeling the slightly damp grass under your feet. You scrunch your nose up at the wetness. Feeling the night air cut at your skin you pull the fabric closer to your body to help with the chill. 

He must be stressed. Normally he’s a pretty good sleeper, something must be bothering him. You see the bench coming up ahead and identify the person sitting on it. Feeling the smile form on your lips you wrap your arms around his neck, melting into his warmth. The softness of his hair brushes against your lips as you put your head in the crook of his neck. 

“My love, come back to bed.” Your voice comes out heavy, still ladened with sleep. 

Tanjiro turns his head, moving your face from his neck. You slowly unwrap your arms, giving him space. His burgundy eyes, normally bright, were dull. You put a hand on his cheek, your light touch bringing goosebumps to his skin. Without saying a word, he wraps his arms around your middle and rests his head against your stomach. You can feel his eyelashes brush against your skin. 

“What’s wrong,” your fingers gliding through his hair, “You ok?” 

The softness of his hair calms you as you run your fingers through it, one hand scratching the base of his scalp. You feel him sigh against you, “I’m better now.” 

Smiling down at him, “You want to talk about it?” Without warning, Tanjiro pulls his head off of your stomach and pulls you into his lap. You squeak as your body makes contact with his full warmth. He cradles your head to his chest. 

“I just need you, please.” His voice slightly wavers and your heart breaks. 

Looking up at him through your lashes, “I will always be here for you.” You gently kiss the arm that was cradling your head. 

He smiles and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. As the two of you sit, you slowly feel yourself drifting off, the warmth of his body making you drowsy. Tanjiro looks down at you, already falling back asleep. He chuckles and finds himself smiling at the thought of you. Here you were, the most precious thing in his world, asleep in his arms. 

What did I do to get this lucky? He thought. Slowly shifting, he picks you up, supporting your shoulders and under your knees. He makes his way inside, down the hall, and back to the room, not making a sound. 

Kneeling on the bed for leverage, he gently sets you down, your hair sprawling out onto the sheets. He takes your haori off and hangs it up, taking his off as well in the process. You stir and blearily open your eyes to look up at him. 

“I love you, Tanjiro.” Your mumbles are soft but clear as day to him. He raises the sheets and joins you in bed, immediately pulling your upper half onto his chest. He smiles as you entwine your legs with his. 

He looks down at you, “Can I have a kiss goodnight, angel?” 

You breathily sigh, “Mmh,” and place a soft kiss on his lips. He plants a series of short pecks on your lips before pulling you closer to him. His hand finds your arm, starting to rub circles on the soft skin. The other is wrapped tightly around you. 

Hearing his heartbeat, it slowly begins to lull you into a beautifully sound sleep. You slowly slip into dreamland and miss Tanjiro’s sweet and soft, “I love you too.”  

[handsoffmyscarfsherlock]

Hello there! I’m desperately craving some sweet comfort from Tanjiro and I’d like to share an idea with you!

If this isn’t something you’re comfortable writing with, that’s totally alright! Feel free to delete if you don’t want to write this!

Imagining a scenario of reader being protected by Tanjiro from someone or a group of guys who just cannot take the hint that she wants nothing to do with them! Whether or not Tanjiro and reader are together romantically or if this leads to a love confession is completely up to you! I’m just desperately in need for some Protective!Tanjiro. ❤️

Again, no pressure for this ask!

If it’s alright, I’d love to be your 🫧 Anon!

Wishing you a good day/night!

Hello there Anon! I'm so sorry that it took so long. Nursing school is a tough gig but in celebration of passing a class, here's a story for you! I hope you enjoy :)

A big thanks always to the best ever, @snowflakeanimelover

Flowers

Tanjiro Kamado x Female!Slayer Reader

Summary: You find yourself thinking about how lucky you are to be with your boyfriend, Tanjiro. When some guys try to mess around with you, your protective boyfriend Tanjiro is there to help you.

Warnings: Kinda icky/creepy behavior and fluff

You find that the beautiful weather never lasts long. Maybe you are cursed or something but the rain seems to follow you. The days and nights of rain dampen your mood, the wet air sucking the life out of you with every raindrop that hits your face. It was one thing having to move from place to place between missions but it was another to have to do it in the rain. At least you had your boyfriend, Tanjiro. He was so patient, knowing you get annoyed with the rain. He would make sure you had a covering even if it meant him taking off bits of his clothing to protect you. He made everything better. 

“Y/n! Are you excited about the new mission?” His bubbly voice takes you out of your thoughts. 

You force out a weak smile, “It should be fun?” Burgundy eyes squint at your response. Great job, he knows you’re upset. As you feel yourself go back into your head you feel something warm grasping your hand. Looking down you see his hand entwined in yours. 

“I know you don’t like the rain, I’m sorry.” His thumb is rubbing circles on the top of your hand. The thoughts slowly fade in your mind, like clouds parting in the sky. You give a genuine smile in response. 

He’s always doing things to make you smile. That’s just one of the reasons why you love him. Clearing your throat you whisper, “Thank you, Tanjiro.” Tanjiro beams a sunshine smile and you can feel the warmth spread through your body. His nose twitches suddenly as he looks away from you, distracted. He quickly lets go of your hand and runs off into the forest. 

“Tanjiro! Where are you going?” You yell out to him. Him and his nose. Before you could start up a jog to find him you feel someone behind you. The thumping in your chest radiates through your whole body as you try to turn around. Hands cover your eyes. 

“Shh, it’s just me, angel,” Tanjiro’s sweet voice enters your ears, “I have something for you.” He takes his hands away from your eyes, now feeling the raindrops hit your lashes. You see him holding his hands out, one covering the other. You raise an eyebrow in question. 

A deep chuckle reverberated from his chest, “Open it.” You roll your eyes and open his hands. Despite the rain hitting his hands, you see a beautiful flower inside. Your heart flutters at the gesture. Taking it out of his hand he pushes your hair aside to rest the stem behind your ear.

“A beautiful flower, for my flower.” You flush pink at his kind words, feeling the heat make its way down your neck. He cradles your face and rests his forehead against yours. “I know the flower is pretty,” his breath hot against your face, “But you’re the prettiest flower I’ll ever encounter.” You see his eyes glance down to your lips. You move before he does, pressing a damp kiss to his lips. He smiles into it before returning it. His lips mold to yours perfectly, like pieces of a puzzle fitting together. 

“‘C’mon,” you say as you pull out of the kiss, “Let’s get out of this rain.” 

The two of you (and Nezuko in her box) make your way to the closest town. It was moderately sized with a variety of different stands and buildings. Parking you under the nearest covered area, Tanjiro looks around. “Ok, I’ll find us someplace to stay and you stay right here, out of the rain.” He gives you another beaming smile and presses a kiss to your forehead before walking away. You take a moment to observe the town. It was quaint, almost reminding you of home. Turning to observe the stand you were in front of you hear some scuffling behind you. Noticing some men around you, you put a hand on the top of your sword. 

Demons are scary but men are scarier. 

Keeping your senses alert you continue to browse, looking for a little trinket for Nezuko. 

“Hey! You’re a demon slayer, right?” A voice calls out, breaking the silence. You turn to meet the voice, seeing a man around your age. 

You nod, “Yes, I am. Can I help you with anything?” You ask out of habit, always wanting to get information from the locals for missions. He looks around and whistles. It’s sharp and loud and gets the attention of the men around him. They move closer to him. You shift uncomfortably in your place, trying to give them the benefit of the doubt. 

The main man crosses his arms, “Yeah, I think there could be a demon around here.” You try to read him, his body language, but nothing sticks out yet. “Right?” He asks the other men. There’s immediately a reply of agreement and nods. 

“Alright, where do you think this is happening? Any specific locations of interest? We’ll make sure to investigate-”

“Why don’t we just show you?” The man had cut you off. You glance around and see the men snickering and grinning at you. There are five of them and one of me. This isn’t the most unbalanced it’s ever been, just breathe. Deescalate. 

You take a step backward, “No, I’m sorry. It’s a bit late for that. Why don’t my partner and I meet you in the morning?” Strike one. The men did not like that response. They all move forward, essentially cornering you against the table. 

The main man, with his ugly sneer and ugly eyes, grabs your wrist. “We only want to give you a nice welcome, just thanks for the work you’ll do for us,” he yanks you toward him, “Right guys?” The rest of the men voice agreement. You try to yank your arm out of his grip, strike two. 

I can flip him in a heartbeat, I can take him down. Give him a warning. 

“Let me go, now.” Your voice is strong and unyielding. They all just laugh at your response. Strike three. 

Licking his lips, “Well, if you say so, princess.” He throws you into the rain and you catch yourself before almost face-planting onto the gravel road. They move toward you but all you could notice was the rain hitting your body. You look down and see your flower on the road. The man notices it too, a wolf-like grin crossing his face before bringing his foot down on it, crushing the flower until there was nothing left. 

Your stomach feels like it’s in your chest. Demons are scary but men are scarier. Your mother’s voice rings in your head. 

“Get away from me, now!” You yell at them, spitting with anger. 

They don’t listen.

What should I do? I can’t hurt them, but I have to defend myself. Thoughts are racing through your mind, trying to sort out the best plan of action. Before you had to decide you hear the sound of gravel moving behind you. 

“Leave her alone.” 

You whip around and see him. Tanjiro. His normally friendly demeanor was gone. His eyes looked like they could cut a man in half, just by glaring at them. His body immediately moves in front of you, covering you, protecting you from the men. 

The man looked him up and down. Trying to measure him up, see if he could take him down. Tanjiro did not move. He had a hand on his sword, ready to move. 

“We were only trying to show her around, she was the one who said she was interested!” The man responded, eyes narrowing. 

Tanjiro’s body stiffened, veins almost popping out. He cleared his throat, “Stop lying. I can smell your sweat from here. This is what’s going to happen, you leave now, or I have no choice but to defend my girlfriend.” 

There’s a silence within the group of men. Tanjiro's voice cuts like a knife, “I wouldn’t make that mistake if I were you.” The main man takes a step forward, testing the waters. Before he could make another move, Tanjiro’s sword is out in front of him, ready. They take one look at him and then run in the other direction, rain obscuring the shape of their bodies. 

Tanjiro turns around to face you, but before he can say anything you throw yourself into his body. Arms wrapped around his neck, you cling onto him, tears flowing down your cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry-” You babble, hands gripping his clothes for dear life. 

Tanjiro drops his sword and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. He strokes your hair, trying to calm you down. After a few minutes, he pulls you away from him. His hands find your cheeks, the warmth of his hands mixing with the rain and tears. 

“Look at me, please.” His voice is soft and kind, it still triggers butterflies to go off in your stomach. Your eyes meet his, they look heartbroken. “Y/n, I will never let anyone hurt you. I couldn’t cope with knowing I didn’t do everything I could to save you. I promise to protect you and stand by your side. I'll find flowers to give to you for the rest of our life together.” 

Tears flow over, dropping from your eyes without you even blinking. You sniffle, “Tanjiro, I love you.” 

He smiles back at you, “I’ll love you forever, there’s nothing that will stop me from loving you. ” His lips ghost yours, sending chills down your spine. 

“Let’s get you out of the rain, okay?” Hands entwined, you head towards the inn, the warm feeling filling out your entire body. Heart happy, you continue your journey together knowing that you’ll be loved for the rest of your days in this life and every other life that follows.