Work Text:
“Senpai, will you train with me?” Nobara asks as soon as she sees Maki turn the corner to the kitchen of their student bungalows. Maki’s in her running gear, her tracksuit zipped up her long neck, hair pulled back in a tight ponytail high on her head. She’s breathing a little quickly, most likely from her cool down. Nobara slides closer to her, eyes hopeful and bright, gripping her hammer for comfort.
“You’re up earlier than usual,” Maki says, not answering her question. She sidesteps Nobara to grab a bottle of water from the fridge and Nobara watches her drain half of the bottle, each gulp audible. “It’s our day off. You’re not going to go shopping?”
“No.” Nobara flushes a little at the glib comment, furrowing her brow. “I woke up early so I could train with you.”
Maki eyes her for a moment longer, her eyes cool and hard to read behind her glasses. The morning light makes them glare yellow for a second before she turns on her heel. “Meet me in the training room in five minutes,” she says over her shoulder, leaving without another word. When Nobara’s sure she’s gone, she releases a sigh, slumping down against the counter, her heart racing in her chest. Maki’s intimidating, even after almost a year of knowing her. Nobara’s never had the courage to ask to train with her until now. She makes sure no one is downstairs before taking a full lap around the kitchen and living room just to release some of her jitters.
She’s finally going to fight Maki-senpai. And she intends to win.
That’s what she thinks at least, until she’s thrown over Maki’s shoulder for the third time, landing in the dirt ass first before Maki drives her boot hard into her stomach so hard that it feels like her guts splatter into her spine. She couldn’t even get one hit in, not even a shred of a piece of clothing to hammer down into the ground for her cursed technique. When she manages to look up, Maki’s gaze is still cool and unreadable. She doesn’t even look the slightest bit out of breath.
“You’re getting sloppier and more predictable,” Maki says, reaching out a hand to help her up. “I know you’re a mid-range to range fighter, so you need to tighten up your melee. Get used to being knocked down or you’ll get killed before you turn 20.”
Nobara clicks her tongue, anger lacing up the sides of her neck as she grips Maki’s hand and winces as she’s pulled up.
“That’s it for today.” Maki's expression is solemn and disappointed. Her gaze only lingers for a second more before she’s turning away again and Nobara can feel her adrenaline filled heart squeezing. No, don’t stop. Look here.
“I can keep going,” she protests, spitting out the mouthful of blood from when she’d bit her tongue when her chin hit the ground earlier.
“No,” Maki says simply and tucks her staff behind her back. “Maybe when you’ve improved on your own.” Nobara throws down her hammer and lunges at her, foot heavy on the ground to launch herself off. It’s not enough to knock Maki over or even surprise her for a second. She spins on her heel in one move, grabbing Nobara by the cuff of her shirt. She uses her other hand to yank her arm back, the force of her move spinning Nobara towards the wall. Nobara collides into the cement with a thud and Maki keeps her pinned there, using her own forearm to crush into her ribs.
“That’s enough,” Maki warns her. Nobara snarls, wiggling and writhing to break out of her hold. In a moment of sick satisfaction, she thinks Maki is touching me and she wants her to keep touching her. The method’s not so different from how she used to get sugarsweet Saori to pay attention to her— pulling her pigtails, stealing her cupcakes and hoping Saori would chase her so Nobara could dig her nose into her soft, silky hair. Now it’s blood and monsters and Maki’s strong, unbreakable grip on her arm. There’s more skin and teeth and Maki’s controlled breathing against her ear that makes her wet. When Nobara likes someone, it’s incessant and demanding,
There’s no way out of this unless she dislocates her own shoulder. “Are you done?” Maki says, her breath hot on Nobara’s ear. It makes her shudder.
“Is that all?” Nobara counters breathlessly, trying to buck again, pushing back against Maki’s skinny, but solid frame. She’s all muscle and Nobara knows that her softer, less trained body is no match for it. And she’s so warm, her heat bleeding into Nobara’s skin.
“I’m not going to break your arm just for training. Just say you yield and we’re done for the day.”
“I don’t,” Nobara spits, struggling until her shoulder starts to protest. Maki presses in harder and Nobara whines as the pain rockets down her arm.
“Yield,” Maki says again.
Nobara squeezes her eyes shut in defeat. “Fine.”
Maki eases her grip just a hair, hovering in anticipation that Nobara will do something, when she doesn’t, Maki takes one step back and the pain in Nobara’s shoulder levels out. Maki huffs. “You’re a brat.”
Nobara lets her arm relax, squeezing her fingers into fists and releases to try and get the blood flow back into them. It’s hard to cipher through her emotions of frustration at losing and the loss of Maki’s warmth and her want, hot and throbbing in her leggings. “So?”
“I didn’t say I hated it.” Nobara swallows, and Maki continues, “Are you like that in bed, too?”
Nobara almost falls over in shock, but manages to catch herself on the wall. When she looks up, Maki’s face is relaxed, an expression she rarely sees before it turns into a sure smirk, almost filthy. “I bet you are.”
When Nobara remembers how to use her voice again, she manages to say, “You could find out.”
Maki licks her lips slowly and tilts her head back. “You’ll have to beat me first. Maybe motivation will make you improve faster.”
“Wow, you’re so generous, senpai.”
“Anything for my kouhai.” Maki picks up a water bottle and tosses it to Nobara.
“I’ll win, next time.”
Maki smirks at her, taking a slow, deliberate sip.
“Looking forward to it.”