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makethiscanon · 6 months ago

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'Beauty and the Beach' - Ojiro x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,300

Rating: T

Tags: Beach Day, Tiki Bar, First Meetings, Pining, Wingwoman Hagakure to the Rescue, Second Person POV, Ojiro's Perspective, Extroverted Reader

Warnings: Alcohol themes

'If Ojiro won't be pro-active about his love life, Hagakure will.'

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“Don’t be such a chicken, Ojiro. Go talk to her.”

Hagakure caught Ojiro glancing across the beach at you for the umpteenth time today. He looked so much like a wistful puppy that she couldn’t hold her tongue. She knew she wouldn’t be much of a friend without trying to wipe that look of longing off his face one way or another.

But it seemed Ojiro thought he was being surreptitious. Hearing Hagakure calling him out like that made his whole body turn ridged, right up to the tip of his tail and the tops of his ears.

To his credit, he didn’t deny what he was doing.

“Don’t be crazy, Hagakure. I can’t.”

Ojiro and Hagakure often came to the beach to wind down after tough missions. It was a place they both enjoyed for different reasons. Ojiro liked the peaceful sound of the waves against the shore, and Hagakure liked the cool waters that eased her muscles after battle.

But recently, Ojiro had found another reason he enjoyed coming to the beach. The local, pop-up tiki bar had taken on some new hires and amongst them, you stood out like a diamond. Your smile had caught his attention from the get-go, stopping him midsentence the very first time he saw it. You radiated kindness and optimism, and never failed to welcome anyone who came to the bar looking for refreshments. Your positive energy had him hooked. Not to mention, you were very cute in the bar’s uniform; a bikini-top and wrap-skirt combo.

“I’m not in her league. There’s no way she’d be interested. I’ll stick to looking, thanks.”

Hagakure rolled her invisible eyes, annoyed but not surprised by Ojiro’s self-depreciating attitude.

“Coward. You won’t know until you try.”

“I do know. I don’t need to try.”

Hagakure grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it at him.

“Alright. Fine. In which case, go get us some drinks. I’m thirsty.”

“No, you’re not.”

Ojiro’s tail flicked the dry sand off his bare shoulders as he chuckled. If Hagakure actually did need a drink, he would be the first guy to go and get it, but was reluctant to help when he knew she was only trying to play matchmaker.

“Am too!” She demanded, burying her feet in the warm sand. She put her hand to her forehead dramatically, feigning heat exhaustion. Given that she was covered in sand, Ojiro had no trouble seeing what she was up to. “I’ll collapse any moment. Be a dear and go get some water.”

Ojiro couldn’t stop himself chuckling, watching her flop onto her back. Against his better judgement he started getting to his feet, heaving himself up with his hands on his knees. For all the rambunctious energy Hagakure had, he couldn’t believe she had just come off night patrol and was yet to actually go to sleep.

“Maybe I should just let you pass out then drag you back to campus like a sack of potatoes.”

Hagakure shot up to a sitting position.

“Oi! I’d be as light as a feather, and you know it.”

Ojiro rolled his eyes with another chuckle.

“Sit tight, drama queen.”

He dusted himself down then headed off towards the tiki bar. The walk wasn’t nearly long enough to prepare himself. He spent the first while wondering if he should have dumped Hagakure in the ocean instead of giving in to her demands, only to realise he had spent too much time wondering and was almost at the bar. Then he became painfully aware that he had no idea how to talk to pretty women.

He tapped the pocket of his swim shorts, checking for his wallet as he came up to the bar. There was no queue to give him a moment to prepare. As soon as he was within reasonable distance, you waved hello with that heart-fluttering smile of yours, calling out,

“What can I get you?”

Ojiro stalled for a split second, caught off by the way your optimism was aimed squarely at him, then managed to recover fast enough not to come to a complete stop.

“Hi,” he said, trying his best to return your friendly expression. He had so many things he wanted to say, but as he sidled up to a barstool and saw you up close for the first time, his mouth fell open as his brain short circuited. The phrase you’re so beautiful nearly came tumbling from his mouth, but thankfully the first syllable got stuck in his throat.

You kept your eyes on him, tilting your head with a playfully happy expression while he carried on failing to give you his order.

By grace of the gods, he managed to catch himself when another customer appeared at the side window, asking you for a straw, and you turned your attention away for a moment. It was your eyes. He had not expected them to be so… oh man, he was down hard.

He sat up straight, rigid but alert, when you turned your gaze back on him.

“A water,” he said, sounding so calm it shocked him. “Please.”

You nodded, already turning to reach behind the counter for the mini fridge stocked with colourful cans and bottles.

“You got it.”

You took out a bottle of water then popped the cap and put it on the counter, keeping your fingers wrapped around it. You smiled mischievously, tilting your head as you looked at him.

“Surely that can’t be everything? No one sits on a barstool and asks for water.”

Apparently today was the day women were going to call Ojiro out on his poorly veiled intentions.

“Ah. Actually, the water’s for my friend...” He pointed over his shoulder without taking his gaze from you. Your eyes lit up like fireworks.

“That’s more like it. So what’ll you have?” You pushed the bottle towards him, leaning over the counter a little. Ojiro felt his heart begin to hammer at the sight of you leaning towards him in that bikini. He found himself striking you with very intense eye contact all of a sudden, whilst his entire tail wound down the central pole of his barstool to keep a grip on reality. He reached into his pocket for his wallet.

“I’m good, thank you—”

He cut himself off, completely unguarded against the babyish pout that hit your lips before he could finish his sentence.

“Aw, really? It’s such a nice day. You should treat yourself a little.” You leaned your chin on your hand, looking up at him through your lashes. “Come on. I can recommend you something, if you’d like?”

Ojiro was only thankful that his sheer willpower was enough to stop him looking lower than where your chin rested on your hand.

He hadn’t intended to buy something for himself, but despite your obvious sales tactics, he was rather enjoying the interaction.

“What would you suggest?”

You stood up straight, the pout disappearing as fast as it had come. With a wide, happy grin, you grabbed a menu then opened it to face him.

“What are you feeling? Fruity, smooth, dry, or fizzy?”

You fingered over the different parts of the menu, with Ojiro enjoying the way you tucked your hair behind your ear as you focused on what you were showing him.

“Um. Smooth, I think. Something refreshing.”

You nodded and drew back, grabbing a glass from overhead.

“Any allergies?”

It was hard to believe you’d only been working at the bar for a few weeks, given how confident you were. As casually as breathing, you grabbed two bottles with long spouts in one hand then started pouring them into a shaker.

Ojiro smiled, watching you.

“No, nothing.”

With a nod, you pursed your lips then flittered around the small bar, filling the hurricane glass with ice, and the shaker with colourful liquids and sizeable measures of liquor.

“Do you want me to hold off on the decorations? Or do you want a big, bendy straw and a little umbrella?”

Ojiro chuckled, surprised you would offer him a choice.

“You can put the decorations on.”

You grinned wider, your eyes sparkling.

“Good. I thought I liked you. The best kind of guy is one who doesn’t mind a little silliness.”

Your words sent a ripple of warmth through his whole body, and it was only his tail still wrapped around the barstool pole that stopped it wagging hard enough to become a dangerous weapon.

You started filling the glass with fruit and decorations, then without warning, you leaned across the counter and slipped a blue paper umbrella into his hair. Your fingers traced the shell of his ear as you pulled back and he shivered, enjoying the goosebumps. His stool creaked as his tail tightened around it like a vice. If he looked silly, he didn’t even care.

“Are you like this with all your customers?”

The words slipped out of his mouth before he knew what he was doing. Internally, he winced. But you chuckled as you lifted the shaker into the air, eyeing what you could see of him up and down.

“What do you think?”

At least you took it well. Ojiro mulled over the question as you shook his drink, coming to the conclusion that he would be delusional to think anything other than you were just very good at your job. You had him feeling very special after only a few sentences and a little flirty body language.

You poured the cocktail then set it down on the counter and added the last of the garnish.

“One Tequila Sunrise.” You quirked an eyebrow with a smile. “ID please.”

Ojiro looked at you, wondering if you were being serious. He chuckled, reaching into his pocket for his ID, regardless.

“Aren’t you meant to card someone before you make the drink?”

“Maybe I get to drink the ones I have to refuse.”

Ojiro laughed at the cheeky answer then slid his ID across the counter.

“Drinks are on me.”

“I can’t remember the last time I got carded.”

He said, noticing the way you looked back and forth between the ID and him once you picked it up, your smile growing with each passing moment. By the time you handed it back, you looked both pleased and giddy. He had to wonder why until you popped the cash register then closed it again.

“Look, I don’t get to serve the Number 26 Pro Hero, Tailman, every day. Seriously. It's free. Thanks for working so hard all the time.”

“Wha—”

You cut him off.

Ojiro’s tail nearly ripped his barstool out from under him.

“Wait- no- I don’t mind. Please.”

Ojiro pulled his debit card out, his cheeks flushing pink from the fact you recognised him. He had given you his civilian ID; it didn't mention anywhere that he was a hero. The only information was a photo and his name. Which meant you knew that Tailman's real name was Mashirao Ojiro. And very few people cared enough to know that.

He jerked in his seat, his tail very nearly tipping him off the barstool in its attempt to wag.

You raised your hands, palms open to refuse his card.

“Absolutely not. This one’s on me.”

He wanted to push it, but didn’t want to refuse your kind gesture. He relented, taking back his ID and tucking it, along with his wallet, back into his shorts.

“Thank you.”

Every fibre of his being wanted to ask you questions; Had you known he was Tailman the whole time? Did you follow his work? Maybe one of your friends did, and you knew of him through them? He desperately wanted to believe it was you. Or maybe you were like Number One Pro Hero: Deku, and followed the billboards in general. That was more likely it, but he just couldn’t shake the pleased feeling from his chest that you knew his real name.

Ojiro was very careful when he pried his tail off his chair, focusing hard on extracting it without taking down the tiki bar in the process. He grabbed his drinks, feeling the paper umbrella fluttering in his hair as he turned into the gentle breeze.

If he was a more confident man, he’d flirt and say it wasn’t fair that you knew his name and he didn’t know yours. He’d ask for your number. He’d joke that he’d be back if your cocktail recommendation was bad, or maybe he’d be back to tell you what he thought of it, to compliment you.

If he was a more confident man.

But instead, he gave you a curt nod goodbye, taking one last look at your radiant smile before turning away. He nearly walked straight into two guys headed to the bar. He heard your honey-sweet voice, calling to them,

“What can I get you guys?”

He couldn’t help but smile. He wondered if you’d pull them into a few minutes of bliss, like you had with him. He wondered if they’d appreciate it like he did.

The first thing Hagakure spotted was Ojiro’s goofy grin as he wandered back over to where she was sunbathing. She sat up, spotting the cocktail and the umbrella in his hair.

“Did you have fun, by any chance?”

Ojiro laughed, knowing what she was probably looking at.

“You could say that.”

He handed her the water then used his tail to lower himself to the floor without spilling his drink.

As he landed in the sand, he finally seemed to snap out of it. He looked at Hagakure’s water, then his cocktail.

“Oh. Damn. I should have got you a proper drink. Do you want mine?”

Hagakure started laughing.

“Put you in front of a pretty girl and you turn to goo. Forget the drinks, did you get her number?”

Ojiro’s entire face turned scarlet now that he didn’t have to worry about holding his composure.

“Are you crazy? Of course not.”

“What do you mean, of course not? You have an umbrella in your hair! Unless you’re woefully bad at flirting and put the damn thing in yourself, that was an open invitation.”

Ojiro supped his drink bashfully, though his tail wagged a little more as the flavour hit him.

“I lied,” said Hagakure. “I want a proper drink. Go back. Go. Back. You’re not fighting me on this. Go back over there, you hopeless bag of muscle.”

Despite his embarrassment, Ojiro couldn’t help laughing as Hagakure scrambled up then tried hauling him up by his tail.

“I can’t. I’m scared I’ll put her out of pocket again.”

Hagakure stopped dead.

“Did she… did you get a free drink?”

Ojiro knew he was digging his own grave by offering up the information, but he was still enjoying the fact that you knew him.

“Yes. She paid for it as thanks. For… all my Pro Hero work.”

Ojiro heard the slap as Hagakure put her hands to her face in shame.

“You didn’t boast about being a hero to get a free drink, did you? God, I knew you were bad with women but—”

Slipping straight past those blows to his ego, Ojiro raised his hands in defence.

“I didn’t! She recognised me. I didn’t say a thing about being a hero. I’m off duty. I wouldn’t.”

Ojiro yelped as Hagakure grabbed his tail again, doubling down on trying to pull him up.

“Get your butt back over there and ask her out immediately.” She demanded. But then she suddenly let go. “No. You know what? Stay there.”

As Hagakure started marching off across the beach, Ojiro went against his better judgement and stayed put. Hagakure seemed pretty adamant. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to stop her without force, he chose to look out at the ocean and enjoy his cocktail, taking little sips as he tried not to think of what Hagakure could be doing, saying, or scheming.

He leaned back on one arm, letting the sun bask against his bare chest. He lifted his face, his eyes shutting as the day’s warmth settled over him, and focused on the sounds of the waves. With his eyes closed, he pictured your face again; that smile as you realised who he was. He didn’t think he would ever forget it.

He twitched a little in alarm, hearing Hagakure’s sudden and not so subtle squeal of excitement on the winds. He wondered what that was about, refusing to let his hopes get too high. For all he knew, she might have just seen something especially fluffy. He kept his eyes closed, focusing all his attention on the taste of his cocktail.

It wasn’t long before he heard the familiar patter of feet through the sands towards him. He opened his eyes and looked Hagakure’s way, only to nearly drop his drink. It wasn’t Hagakure. It was you.

Ojiro shot up in greeting, trying not to let his alarm slip onto his face as he staggered and smiled your way. He wasn’t prepared last time, and he definitely wasn’t prepared this time.

“Is everything okay?”

Even with you walking towards him with your arms out wide like a child keeping her balance and that smile on your face, he couldn’t believe you were here to see him in anything other than an emergency capacity.

You laughed as you came to stand in front of him, your hands clasped behind your back.

“Your friend said she’d man the bar for five. She’s really nice.”

Instinctively, Ojiro looked past your shoulder to double check that the tiki bar wasn’t already on fire, then looked back at you.

“Hagakure didn’t force you to come over, did she?”

You shook your head.

“Not at all. She told me a few things, but coming over was my idea.”

Ojiro flinched, wondering what Hagakure could have possibly said, but he was far more interested to know you were in front of him of your own doing.

“Really?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded, then slipped your hand into the cup of your bikini top. Ojiro stiffened and looked skyward, his heart melting when you giggled again. “Don’t worry, I’m not flashing you.”

He didn’t think you were, but it was too much like temptation for him when your hand was so close to an area he knew would be rude to stare at.

While he kept looking at the clouds in the sky, you said,

“I thought it was you when I saw you coming towards the bar. It’s hard to miss your tree-trunk thick tail. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself if I was wrong, though. But I let myself get hopeful anyway. To answer your question earlier, no, I’m not like that with every customer. That flirting was just for you.”

Ojiro’s gaze shot back down to you, his eyes widening.

“It was?”

He was so surprised by the revelation that he didn’t notice what you were holding out towards him for a moment. But then he spotted the slip of paper, folded neatly in half. He took it in one hand and flipped it open with his thumb. Then his tail started wagging again.

“You’re giving me your number?”

You tucked your hair behind your ear as you nodded.

“Hagakure said you’re bad with women. I don’t mind. It’s pretty sweet, actually. I was just happy to talk to you. But she said you have a bit of thing for me, so…”

Ojiro laughed despite himself, realising Hagakure probably hadn’t spared any details of his pining from you.

“Yeah, I do actually. Even if I wussed out on telling you.” He sighed, looking into your pretty eyes now that he felt he could. “But with the cat out of the bag… can I ask what time you get off work? I’d love to take you to dinner.”

Thankfully you didn’t pause before giving him an answer.

“I finish at six.” Ojiro felt humbled, seeing the slightest hint of nerves touching your face. “So I’ll… definitely see you then?”

You had nothing to be anxious about. You were stunning, and charming, yet for some reason you looked like you were worried about him saying no to you. He held your note to his chest, his smile widening effortlessly as he took in every detail of you, the sun shining down on you, making his heart warm.

“It’s a date.”

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[WRITING MASTERLIST]