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mushi42 · 18 days ago

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Unprofessional Hawks x Secretary reader (story+smau)

summary: You are working for the #2 hero. You try to keep things professional. As much as you could... pre!relationship

content: fem!reader, flirting, alcohol usage

a/n: I don't really know what to call this thing... I don't really write fics, and English isn't my native language, so I'm sorry if I there are any mistakes.

word count: 1,8K

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Working under a pro-superhero was, in a word, exhausting. Not in the way you’d expect from assisting Japan’s number 2 hero. No, the paperwork was manageable. It was him.

Keiogo Takami was never on time. Never took things seriously on paper. It was like dealing with a teenager. You’d gotten used to it. You had to. You were the one who scheduled his appearance, rescheduled the ones he missed, decided what he must say in his interviews, and also the one who cleaned up the mess when he went off-script.

And still, you stayed. At the end, he was paying you a great amount.

Maybe it was the way he’d throw you those lazy smirks over his shoulder, golden eyes twinkling like he knew some joke you hadn’t caught yet. Or how, even when teasing, he listened. Really listened. Like your voice was more interesting than the entire world outside the window.

But you always kept it casual. At least you tried.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Everyone else had gone home. The office was silent except for the clicking of your keyboard and the hum of the vending machine.

You sat hunched at your desk, hair tied up, reading over a field report.

And then you heard a knock on the door. So you opened it.

You looked up. Keigo stood there, two steaming cups in hand, his wings drooping, tired.

“I brought coffee.” He said with the biggest smile on his face.

You blinked. He walked in, setting the coffee on your desk.

“Keigo, you really didn’t have to. You must be so tired from today's patrol.”

“Didn’t want you to be the last one to leave the office again.” You didn’t respond, couldn’t. He leaned against your desk, closer than necessary. “You know,” he murmured, “you could use a break. Maybe dinner. With someone who appreciates all the effort you put in.”

“Someone like you?” you asked without thinking.

He gave a lazy smile. “Maybe.” The silence stretched. Something warm flared in your chest.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

You hadn’t moved from your desk since late morning. Your back ached. Your fingers had gone numb twice. Reports, scheduling updates, email chains, press briefings. All of it blurred together until your eyes burned.

You barely noticed your phone buzzing until it vibrated off the desk and thudded onto the floor.

One new message.

You stared at the screen for a moment. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a voice whispered, This isn’t normal. He doesn’t do this with everyone. Right? But you silenced it. Instead, you picked up the bento box, peeled back the lid, and took the first bite.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

It was one of those rare, perfect evenings — cool breeze, warm lights, and a backyard wrapped in string lanterns and the soft scent of summer flowers. You were staying with your old college friend for the week, tucked away in a quiet town miles from the chaos of the city. No alarms, no last-minute schedule changes, no “urgent” text messages lighting up your screen every other hour.

You dressed up because you could. A silky slip dress that clung in just the right way, the color deep and soft under the amber lights. Hair curled, lips glossed. It wasn’t for anyone, just for yourself. A reminder that you could feel beautiful even without the weight of your clipboard, headset, and title.

The backyard gathering was small. Laughter spilled from the porch, glasses clinked, and music played low through a speaker on the deck. A few people danced barefoot in the grass. You were curled up in a lounge chair near the fire pit, wrapped in a light shawl, drink in hand, glowing from the inside out.

Your phone had buzzed twice already. Probably messages from Keigo.

You didn’t check it. You didn’t owe him your attention tonight.

Until the sliding door creaked open behind you. You glanced up absently and froze. Keigo Takami stepped out onto the porch. Leather jacket, dark jeans, wind-mussed hair, and a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “…You’ve got to be kidding me.” You said to yourself.

He raised two fingers in a mock salute. “Evening, Angel.” Your mouth parted, disbelief scraping your voice raw.

“Keigo. What the hell are you doing here?”

He descended the steps like it was just another rooftop landing. “Saw the dress on your friend’s story. Figured I had to see it in person. Y’know. Surprise morale check.”

“You’re not serious.” You took a deep sigh. “How did you even find me?”

“You might’ve left your location on in one of your office devices.” He grinned. “Oops.”

You stared at him, hands tightening around your glass, still processing the surreal sight of him standing there. Casual, smug, completely out of place yet somehow already blending in.

“You’re supposed to be working. You had patrol today.”

“I’m supposed to be miserable without you. And guess what? I am.” You gawked at him. He took a few more steps until he stood in front of your chair. The firelight licked at the edges of his profile, sharp jaw, tired eyes, that smile, always too casual to be real.

“You look…” He let out a low whistle, eyes sweeping over you. “Honestly? You look like you’re about to ruin someone’s life.”

“Maybe yours,” you said flatly.

“Too late for that,” he murmured. He wasn’t even trying to be slick. Just honest, in that way, he only got it when he was too tired to wear the mask properly. You looked away, shielding yourself with sarcasm.

“You know you can’t just run off from hero duty to crash my break.”

“Sure, I can,” he said, plopping into the chair beside yours. “I submitted my forms. You’d be proud.”

“I am horrified.”

“You’re flattered.”

“You’re insane.”

Then the back door slammed open behind you. “Oh my god.” Your friend barreled down the steps barefoot, eyes wide, holding a half-full glass of wine like she might faint if she blinked too hard.

“Omg are you really Hawks? Like, the Hawks?”

Keigo turned to her with a smooth, practiced smile, wings rustling just enough to be dramatic. “In the flesh,” he said, with an unnecessary wink.

Your friend actually squeaked. She spun toward you. “Did you invite him?”

He shrugged, utterly unapologetic. “Technically, I invited myself.”

You sighed when your friend started to ask all those questions like a teenage fangirl. You looked at Keigo. He seems like he was enjoying all the attention he gets from all the women who started to surround him. He was always so good with women, too good. And you? Oh, you definitely hated that.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

The music thumped low through the walls of the sprawling villa, bass weaving through laughter and clinking glasses. It was one of those hero-crowd parties. Too glamorous for its own good, filled with off-duty pros pretending they didn’t know how to relax, agents mingling, drinks flowing like no one here had early shifts tomorrow.

You were posted up near the back balcony, drink in hand, pretending to be part of a conversation you weren’t actually listening to. Your dress hugged you just right, sleek, black, backless, tasteful enough to avoid press attention, dangerous enough to get a certain pair of eyes stuck on you earlier in the night.

Hawks had made his entrance late, as always, in a too-casual button-down half-untucked, wings freshly preened, smile set to “devastate.” Within twenty minutes, he was already three drinks in and being pulled into every group photo, flirted with by half the room, talking fast, laughing too loud.

You had purposely stayed at a distance.

Because when Keigo Takami got like this, drunk, unfiltered, too charming for his own good — it became harder not to believe he meant every teasing word. Every look. Every smirk. And tonight, with his eyes lingering a second too long on your legs when he first walked in… you knew he was playing dangerous.

But as the time passed, you started to get bored. And that’s when you heard your phone buzzed.

By the time he texted “balcony” you were already walking there. The party’s chaos softened around you. You felt like you could become deaf from the loud music if you stayed a little longer in there. You spotted him leaning against the balcony railing. Keigo looked up at you, dazed and utterly pleased. “There she is,” he said, grinning. “My savior.”

“You’re drunk,”

“I told you that in the texts.”

You exhale, but you were already walking toward him. He smelled like spiced rum and something warm and expensive. His cologne clinging to his skin despite the sweat on his collarbone. His shirt was half unbuttoned. His wings were drooping and twitching, too heavy to fold right.

He looked you over like you were made of fire. “That dress is lethal,” he murmured.

“Keigo.”

“Really,” he said, voice lower. “You walk past people and they forget their names.”

“You’re wasted.” You shook your head. “And you’re clingy when drunk.”

“You’re soft and mean,” he said with mock horror. “I like it.”

You sighed, but your hand found his arm anyway, steadying him as he tried to sit up straighter. He swayed slightly, wings brushing your back.

He noticed. Smirked.

“That feels good?” he asked lazily. “Feathers always have that effect…”

You gave him a look. “I will leave you here.”

“No, you won’t.” His smile faded a little, less playful, more honest. “You always come for me.”

You paused. Just for a moment. “You texted me,” you said quietly.

He shrugged, careless. “Still counts.”

You stood, tugging gently on his arm. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here before you say something that ends up on the front page.”

He let you pull him up, a little heavier than usual, hand warm in yours.

“Wanna fly home?” he mumbled.

“No. You can barely stand. I’ll call an Uber.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

You helped him get in the car and settled next to him in the back seat. He looked like he could fall asleep at any moment. You wondered how much he had drunk since he didn’t get affected that easily. You looked him up and down. Even like this, he still managed to melt something inside you.

“You look good tonight.” He was barely speaking. “Also, I think I’m in love with air, or maybe you… hard to tell. You both make me breathe better.”

Your eyes met. “You’re so drunk.”

“Yeah, but not wrong.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

This thing took WAY TOO MUCH TIME than I expected... I hope you liked it! I might post a part 2 because I really like writing Keigo. I'd really appreciate your likes and coments <3

#cuuute #mha x reader #keigo x reader

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mushi42 · 26 days ago

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Hear me out... Hawks.. But nesting. Like it doesn't even have to be smut (although that be cool too). Hes just acting on pure bird instinct, he just looks at reader and just nests them and I'm talking NESTS, like feathers, pillows, blankets heck maybe even a few twigs in there if we want to be realistic ໒꒰ྀི∩˃ ᵕ ˂∩꒱ྀི১ I just love Hawks... Also could it be chubby!reader? (if not that's COMPLETELY fine I understand that!)

Feathered and Yours

FEATURING Keigo 'Hawks' Takami x Reader

SUMMARY You weren’t expecting to come home to a room full of feathers, pillows, and your clothes draped in the shape of a very real nest—but what surprises you more is just how serious Hawks is about it.

CONTENT WARNINGS Intense fluff, body love, comfort, feather nesting, reader insecurity (mild, fleeting), Hawks being clingy and gentle, feather preening

AUTHORS NOTE feral bird hawks will seriously never not do it for me. I LOVE HIM SM

You were supposed to be gone another two hours. The training center had run late, but your part wrapped up early. You’d sent a text to Hawks—Keigo—to let him know you were coming back to his place, but he hadn’t responded.

Which wasn’t weird, exactly. He was a busy hero. Sometimes he missed texts. Sometimes he forgot to charge his phone. Sometimes he was asleep upside-down on the couch like an exhausted bird with a day off.

So you didn’t expect anything when you stepped into the apartment.

But the second the door opened, you felt it. Whatever "it" was.

Warm air, feathers in the air, and a strange hush that felt… sacred.

"Kei?" you called softly.

Silence. Then a flutter. A rustle. And—

“Nope! Nope nope nope—DON’T come back here!”

That was his voice. Sharp. Frantic. Unhinged.

You blinked, concern flooding your chest. “Are you okay?”

“No—I mean, yes! Just—don’t look at me yet!”

You were already walking toward the bedroom. “Keigo, what’s going on—?”

Then you stopped.

Dead in your tracks.

And blinked.

Because your boyfriend—Pro Hero Hawks, the nation’s #2 hero and reigning heartthrob of the century—was sitting in the middle of a nest.

A very large, very real, very intentional nest.

Made entirely of pillows. Blankets. His feathers. Your sweaters. His hoodies. Three of your shirts. A sweatshirt you hadn’t seen in months. And more pillows. And—oh god—was that your favorite fuzzy robe!?

He froze, staring at you like a criminal caught in the act.

“…It’s not what it looks like.”

You blinked again. “Keigo.”

“It’s not!”

“You’ve constructed a nest. With, like, nesting materials.”

He puffed up defensively. “They were available.”

“My robe was on the hanger.”

“You weren’t using it!”

You stepped further into the room, your gaze darting around the mess—no, not a mess. It was… cozy. The air was warm and smelled faintly like your detergent, and the whole space seemed to pulse gently with comfort.

Keigo looked feral. Wings slightly puffed, cheeks flushed, hair sticking up like he'd been rolling in the blankets.

You took another step closer, eyes softening.

"…Baby, what is this?"

His shoulders sagged a little.

"…I dunno,” he mumbled. “It just… happened.”

You raised a brow.

“I was thinking about you,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “And how you always look so soft and warm in my shirts. And how good your perfume smells. And how sometimes I don’t sleep right unless you’re here.”

You didn’t say anything. Just watched.

He looked up at you again—less embarrassed now, more… vulnerable.

“And then I kind of just… started pulling things. Blankets. Pillows. Anything that smelled like you. Anything that reminded me of how it feels when you curl up in my arms.”

He shrugged, wings twitching. “Next thing I knew, I’d made this. And I didn’t wanna leave it. Because it felt like you.”

Your chest squeezed.

You knelt slowly at the edge of the nest, reaching out to run your fingers through the soft down feathers lining the center.

“It’s warm.”

“It’s supposed to be,” he said. “Warm enough for you.”

You looked at him. “You made this… for me?”

“I made it around you,” he corrected, quietly. “Like… I think my instincts took over or something. You weren’t here, and I just needed to… wrap you in comfort. In safety. Like you deserve.”

You felt a wave of emotion rise in your throat.

You weren’t used to being treated like this. Like someone’s softness wasn’t a flaw. Like your curves weren’t a joke. Like being chubby didn’t mean hiding in oversized clothes or apologizing with your eyes before you even walked into a room.

But Keigo looked at you like you were something divine. Like your softness was holy. Like your body—your real, beautiful body—was his favorite place in the entire world.

You brushed your fingers against his wing. “Can I come in?”

He blinked. “What?”

You smiled. “You built it for me, right?”

A moment of stunned silence.

Then his face cracked into the most radiant smile you'd ever seen.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Yeah. C’mere.”

He opened his arms and you crawled in. Slowly, gently. He arranged the blankets around you like you were a treasure he didn’t want the world to see. You sank into the warmth—soft, plush, feathered and thick with everything that felt like him.

You curled into him and he pulled you close, one hand spreading across the plush curve of your side like it was meant to be there. His fingers sank into your softness like he belonged there, like this was his home.

“I love the way you feel,” he murmured, almost to himself. “So soft. So warm. Like my wings relax just from holding you.”

You flushed, heart pounding.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then your temple, then your shoulder.

“I know you get self-conscious sometimes,” he whispered. “But I wish you could feel what I feel when I touch you.”

His fingers trailed down your arm, reverent.

“When I bury my face in your tummy and you laugh,” he continued. “When you wear my shirts and they cling to your thighs and I have to resist the urge to fly you straight to bed.”

You laughed, embarrassed.

“I’m serious,” he said, brushing his nose against your cheek. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You buried your face in his chest, overwhelmed.

He chuckled and held you tighter. “No hiding in the nest, sweetheart.”

You looked up at him. “I’m not hiding.”

He smiled. “Good. Because I’m never letting you go.”

#awww this is so cute #Like legit smiles from reading this #my hero academia #hawks bnha #hawks x reader

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mushi42 · 28 days ago

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I really think Hawks is sweet and considerate. Like yes, absolutely. Best guy out there. Always gentle, small kisses on your cheeks as he works his way into you slowly, singing praise for you and just how fucking good you take him. And that's truly what he's happy with, being sweet on you to the point it makes onlookers sick. Nevertheless, I do believe he has more carnal urges, even as he's whispering sweet nothings while he sinks into you slowly inch by excruciating inch, a little guy in the back of his mind is telling him how good it would feel if he just took you rough and uncaring. If he went in fast and hard with his thrusts, if he let your tears of pleasure soak through the pillow as he holds you down and pounds into you.

It makes him feel a little bad, it's clear he carries a lot of guilt and I don't think he's exempt from feeling guilty, particularly about the way he wants to take you sometimes. But you, and his therapist, have been telling him now that he's no longer under the commission, he's no body's yes man. He can ask for what he wants, vocalize his opinions to his heart's content. Exercise that free speech. Plus, he's always cooing at you to ask for what you want and to 'use your words' whenever he's fucking you dumb, so he supposes he shouldn't be a hypocrite and withhold what he wants. So he asks for it, gripping your hips a little tighter one night, speeding his thrusts up a bit more, and biting down softly on your pulse point.

"You like it like that? Mm? C'mon dove, tell me you want it rough and I'll give it to you rough."

All you need to do is nod and whimper for him and every carnal sinful desire buried deep inside him is right there with you.

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mushi42 · 28 days ago

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hiii could you please write something about reader who wakes katsuki bakugo, Hawks, Kirishma, and maybe izuku up in the middle of the night with some type of dumb question? and how they'd respond or what they'd do?

I'm so sorry if this seems complicated or anything it's my first time requesting something!!

“You Woke Me Up For That?”

Characters! Bakugou, Izuku, Kirishma, Hawks -requested-

Waking them up and asking dumb questions!!

═══════ ═══════ ═══════

Katsuki Bakugou ٠࣪⭑

Katsuki sleeps like a log, once he’s out. He takes forever to wind down, brushing his teeth, stretching, adjusting the blankets 17 times so they’re just right, glaring at the ceiling until his brain shuts up, but once he’s out? He’s out.

So when you shake him gently at 2:17AM with a whispered, “Babe… hey, babe… do you think fish ever get thirsty?” he’s halfway convinced he’s dreaming. The first response you get is a low, gravelly groan. Like you just pulled him out of the most peaceful nap of his entire life. “Are you seriously…” he mumbles, voice deep and cracked with sleep, “fuckin’ kidding me right now?”

Doesn’t even open his eyes at first. Just blindly reaches under the blanket to pull you into his chest with way more force than necessary. It’s not a hug. It’s a containment. “You’re not allowed to talk anymore,” he mutters, already drifting back. “Talk again and I’m knockin’ you out.”

═══════ ═══════ ═══════

Izuku Midoriya ٠࣪⭑

Izuku blinks awake slowly, hair a fluffy mess, one eye barely open. He genuinely thinks something bad happened at first when you try to wake him up “Huh..? Is everything okay? Are you hurt? Did I forget something? Do you need water??” You, very seriously,“Do you think All Might has ever eaten spaghetti in the bathtub?” He freezes. Processes. Blinks again.

“I… wh… what.. spaghetti?” Izuku rubs his face with both hands, trying to reboot his brain. “Wait, are you asking me that because, do you wanna eat spaghetti in the bathtub?? Because I support you. I just… need a second.” Then he flops face-first back into the pillow with a muffled groan. “You’re so lucky I love you,” he mumbles into the sheets. And then like 20 seconds later he lifts his head slightly and is like,

“…Do you think he used a fork or just his hands?” Falls back asleep mid-conversation with a hand on your thigh and a sleepy smile on his face.

═══════ ═══════ ═══════

Eijiro Kirishima ٠࣪⭑

Eijiro Wakes up immediately like a soldier reporting for duty. Groggy, disoriented, hair sticking up like a porcupine, but eyes wide and blinking fast “Babe? You okay? What’s goin’ on…do I need to fight someone or…?”, When you drop the dumbass question, like “Do you think sharks have crushes?” or/and “If I swallowed a rock on purpose, would I survive?”. He pauses. Just. Blinks.

Immediate half-laugh, half-sigh.

“… you woke me up… from REM sleep… for rock-eating hypotheticals?” But he’s way too soft-hearted to be mad. He groans dramatically, flops back onto the pillow, and drags you down with him. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” Pulls you into his chest and mumbles something like:

“Okay, okay. For the record? Sharks definitely flirt. And no, don’t eat rocks, babe, please.”

Falls back asleep mid-snuggle, one arm over your shoulder, and a lazy smile on his face. He’ll tease you about it in the morning…“my S/O’s got midnight brainrot and I love ‘em for it.”

═══════ ═══════ ═══════

Keigo Takami -hawks- ٠࣪⭑

You think you’re waking him up? nah. keigo sleeps light, too many years of staying alert. so the second you shift weirdly or whisper his name like you’re about to start some bullshit, his brain’s already bracing itself.

“what is it, dove?” he’s not even mad. he’s just so ready to hear what unhinged thought rolled out of your 3AM brain this time. (because it’s never normal.)

“do birds ever get embarrassed when they miss a branch?”

“wow. glad I survived another villain attack just to get emotionally wrecked on behalf of sparrows.” he says it without opening his eyes. without moving a muscle. just pure, deadpan sass muffled by the pillow. Then he’ll pause, sigh, and go,“…okay wait. actually? yeah. the puffed-up angry fluff they do? that’s pure shame.” He teases you but makes it feel like flirting.

“you must love me. But sadly, no one else gets away with waking me up to keep asking me these questions.” and he’ll smirk and roll you onto his chest, tucking you under his arm like you’re part of his wing set. “Next time you wake me up with a question like that, I better be getting a kiss first.” He’s shameless. smooth even while sleep-drunk.

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