#and twice calling hawks a bird

[erasurecloud]

I have so many things to say

[general-george-washington]

I think we have a bald eagle living around here now

[yandere-daydreams]

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who crash-lands on your balcony in the middle of winter, long after he should've migrated somewhere more hospitable to his animal counterpart. He's badly injured, half-frozen, and clearly in a state of shock, but you manage to drag him inside after a few minutes of struggling and fussing over his massive wings. An emergency vet is called, a small fortune dulled out in exchange for anti-biotics and bandages, but Diluc only wakes up hours after the chaos has blown over, after he's been moved to your bed and most of his blood has been scrubbed out of your carpeting. If you didn't have such a soft spot for birds, you might've been more mad at him.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who's surprisingly calm for a man who was on the verge of death less than a day ago. He apologizes for the trouble he's caused you, explains that his injuries came from a 'minor altercation' with his brother and promises that you'll be repaid for everything he's cost you so far, even if you can't say you're sure how a hybrid would have that kind of funding. His composure only falters when he realizes that he won't be able to fly until his wings heal, and even then, he manages to limit his frustration to a thin scowl and a wary sigh. His poise is a relief. He'll be stuck with you for a while, and a temper would've made a bad situation even worse.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who clearly isn't as wild as you initially thought. If anything, your meager apartment seems too a little too modest for his tastes - you're not sure if you've ever heard anyone mention the thread count of your sheets so casually, let alone a hybrid. Still, he adjusts quickly. By the end of his first week with you, you can't stop him from helping around the house. He's a good cook, especially, and he seems to enjoy being able to take some of the stress off of you. You've heard that it's a common trait for hybrids, some universal base instinct to 'provide for a pack'. To be honest, you don't really care. He's nice to have around, even if you know he can't stay forever.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who only ever blushes whenever you tend to his wings. You're not a professional, but you do your best to clear away all of the bent and broken feathers, to replace his bandages as often as the vet recommended, but you're still clumsy, still slow enough to mean he has to spend the better part of the hour sitting between your legs with his wings splayed out in your lap. He tries to keep up a conversation, but he trips over his words, balls his fists, pulls his hindlimbs against his chest and tries to pretend he's unaffected. It's cute, watching a creature as stoic as Diluc lose a few of his reservations.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who's too massive to sleep anywhere but your bed. You resign yourself to the couch for a while, but it's not long before you give in to his constant offers to share and end up spending most nights pressed into his side, one of his wings draped over you and an arm loosely wrapped around your waist. You learn quickly that hawks are creatures of routine, which means that you now have a very, very strictly enforced bedtime. He's not afraid to sling you over his shoulder and put you where he wants you to be, and there's only so much you can do to fight against a bird-man twice your height and more than double your strength.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who gets... protective of your apartment, after a few weeks. It's not much - a small frown when you mention a friend he doesn't care for, a certain caginess when you have guests over - but it's far-cry from his normal, gentlemanly behavior. It might just be the instincts of a wounded animal attempting to protect his nest, but still. You worry about him, sometimes.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, whose wings are getting better every day. He's able to make short trips, now, and you make sure to praise him as heavily as you can whenever he comes back from a lap around your apartment complex. You swear, when you're at work or running errands, you'll see a scarlet shape circling miles above you and convince yourself it's Diluc, but he's not the secretive type. You're sure, if he was really that far along, he wouldn't be able to hide it from you. You're sure, if he was really able to fly that well, he wouldn't stay any longer than the time it took to tell you that he was going home.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who's cuddled against your chest when you come to, your skin still numb from the windburn and your vision still blurred with tears. You can barely keep yourself awake, barely lift your head, but you can make out a lavish, crimson bedroom; a bed of sheets and pillows that goes on as far as you can see. No, not a bed, a nest. One big enough for a hawk and its mate.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who's always been territorial. You just weren't able to see that until after he decided you were a part of that territory, too.

[reidingandwriting]

domestic > keigo takami/hawks (mha)

Word Count: 3.6k

Ship: Keigo/Hawks x Reader

Warnings: Corrupt hero commission (we hate the hero commission on this blog), keigo overworks himself, keigo & reader fight, miscommunication, some cursing, keigo’s a little shit (he has his reasons okay), mentions of a rescue mission and the aftermath, hurt/comfort

A/N: So sorry this fic is so delayed 😭 Have been going Through It lately but I’ve got a few fics queued up to make up for my absence ❤️ This is my favorite Keigo fic so far

“pro hero hawks is the first on the scene!”

“pro hero hawks took down the villain that’s injured dozens, including some pro heroes!”

“another takedown by pro hero hawks.”

“hawks is finally on the scene, this should be over soon.”

-

keigo wasn’t answering his phone. which was expected for the first night. he had just come home from a week long mission and on his flight home, another issue came up that he had to answer to. he didn’t get home until midnight, having refused any other hero’s offer to relieve him once his shift had technically ended, until best jeanist all but escorted him off the scene. you had hoped keigo had been resting when you walked into your office the next morning, until you looked at the news and saw he was already back out on patrols.

when you walked into keigo’s office, you expected to see a mountain of paperwork on his desk. you were fully prepared to work all day to catch him up, hoping to surprise him by finishing all his work for him. you were the one surprised when you saw only one paper on his desk, a note for you.

‘gonna be working late tonight, don’t wait up for me’

you scowled as you read the note, even if you had to fight the urge to melt when you saw the little bird doodle keigo had signed the note with. you once again called keigo, this time his work number, and you resisted the urge to throw your phone at the wall when your call once again went unanswered. you pulled up your text conversation with keigo and began to type.

‘you’re going home tonight. i will be outside at eight and you will let me in. i am not kidding when i tell you i’ll wait all night. please, just let me know you’re okay.’

you knew the text would go unanswered, but you hoped. you hoped that he would read it, at the least. that he would talk to you. your phone buzzed and you quickly picked it up, and you sighed when it was just another text from rumi.

‘i’ve seen him pass by once or twice, but he doesn’t stop. i’ve got a few others looking out for him, i’ll let you know if i hear anything’

you set your phone down with a sigh as you sat back in the office chair. this was going to be a long night.

you texted keigo a warning before you entered his apartment. you had been given a key by keigo to use in case of emergencies, and your chatty birdbrain suddenly ghosting you is an emergency in your eyes. it was two AM when you entered, and you felt your eyes begin to sting when you realized keigo wasn’t home. a quick search on the hero network showed that he was last seen a little after ten, and none of your own security alerts had gone off at your apartment. he was at his agency, avoiding you. it stung, the avoidance settling heavy in your chest, weighing you down as if there was a physical weight on your body.

you texted a quick update to rumi before you left keigo’s, and you made the walk back to your own apartment. keigo would definitely have lectured you any other time if he knew you walked home alone, and a selfish part of you hoped he’d find out. you’d take the scolding if it meant he would talk to you.

you flinched as you heard a voice speak from beside you.

“surprised he let you walk home alone at this hour,” you relaxed once you recognized the drawl of eraserhead’s voice. “your guard bird working tonight?”

“you’re going to sneak up on me at the wrong time one day and you’re going to get your shit rocked,” you replied, no real heat to your words.

“i’ll take my chances.” a hint of a smirk graced his face before it relaxed into his usual stoic expression.

“but no, he’s not working tonight.” you paused. “not patrolling at least. he is working hard at avoiding me, though.” while you and eraserhead, aizawa, had only met a few times, you had established a friendly relationship with the underground hero. you had also developed a friendship with present mic, which seemed to influence eraserhead’s opinion of you. odd.

“that’s… different.” eraserhead says after a moment. “i’ll keep an eye out for him, and i’ll have hiz- present mic look out for him as well.”

the two of you continued to talk as he escorted you to your apartment. minutes later, you opened the door to your apartment and let the door shut with a soft click, and you barely made it to the couch before you fell asleep.

-

“ooh, rough night?” one of the tech interns, kazuki, teases as he watches you walk in.

“hilarious.” you scowled. you knew you looked tired; you woke up frequently throughout the night, unable to sleep for more than half an hour at a time. you gave up on sleep around five thirty this morning, and you clutched to the thermos of coffee in your hands like it was the only thing keeping you alive. “didn’t really sleep much last night.”

“hawks working you too hard? i saw him walking around a few minutes ago. looks like he was headed to his office,” your heart stopped at those words. was he actually here?

“thank you, kazuki!” you called as you sprinted for the elevator, reminding yourself to send kazuki a proper thank you later. when you burst into keigo’s office, you jumped back as a sharpened red feather flew at you, stopping mere centimeters away from your neck.

“shit, you scared me.” keigo smiled when he recognized you, and the sight of it filled you with anger. “oh, sorry. let me just.” keigo’s feather returned to its natural state and you swatted it away as it went to caress your cheek, not in the mood for his usually sweet antics. “songbird? you okay?”

and you couldn’t help but laugh. full body, doubled over laughs. keigo tilted his head, confusion flashing across his face as you continued to laugh. your name left keigo’s lips, and you recognized the slight movements he was making. he was twitchy, like he wanted to move but he couldn’t decide which move was the best. you could practically hear the wheels in his head turning and you looked up at the ceiling as you felt the familiar sting of unshed tears in your eyes.

“you son of a bitch,” you whispered. you looked at him and his form became blurry, the tears now sliding down your cheeks. “you, you have me worried for days. you ignored my calls and texts, i even had other heroes looking out for you!” you started to walk towards him and you stopped just out of his reach. “you went to the point of staying here to avoid seeing me. why?” you finally met his gaze and golden eyes were filled with an emotion you didn’t recognize. his gaze was cold, distant. yet still, he kept the smile on his face, the smile he plastered on for annoying news reporters.

“i’ve been busy.”

“you’re running yourself ragged! you’re going to get hurt or cause someone else to get hurt because you’re working yourself to death.” you reached out and jabbed him in the chest.

“you don’t understand. you never will, so why are you even trying to? i can’t answer every call and text from my assistant.”

“that’s all i am to you? your assistant?” you asked. you were met with silence and you felt your heart begin to break. “look me in the eyes and tell me that’s all i am to you. and i promise, from now on, that’s all you’ll get from me.”

“what else would you be?”

wordlessly, you dug your key ring from your jacket pocket. you pulled off the key that belonged to keigo’s, to hawks’s, apartment and you set it down on his desk.

“noted. since you’ve clearly got a handle on things, i think i’ll be taking the next two days off for some personal days. i’ll be back on monday, hawks.” the name felt foreign on your lips and his wings twitched in response. you wordlessly spun on your heel and slammed hawks’s office door shut behind you. you could feel the stares from everyone in kei- hawks’s agency watching you, and you briefly shook your head when you saw kazuki before rushing out of the building, straight into the rain that had suddenly started to downpour. because of course it did.

as you walked in the rain to the bus stop, you ignored the frequent buzzing that came from your pocket.

“what else would you be?” echoed through your head, and you couldn’t believe that came from kei- his lips. what happened during his last mission? you shook your head to clear your thoughts.

“just an assistant,” you muttered under your breath. “what the hell, birdie?”

-

it was the middle of the night and you were sitting on your couch, eating from a carton of ice cream as you flipped through the channels on TV. you had finished your second movie of the night when you stumbled across the news. you paused when you saw hawks’s name flash across the bottom of the screen and you wanted to change the channel. but you couldn’t.

“eight hours later, the search and rescue has been completed. over 200 victims were rescued from the destruction thanks to the effort of our number two hero. thank you to pro hero hawks for being the first hero to respond, and the last to leave the tragic scene of the collapsed apartment complex.”

the reporter continued to talk about the injuries and the casualties, and you scanned the screen for him, not seeing a glimpse of red anywhere, save for some discarded feathers on the ground. you pulled out your phone immediately and searched online for something, anything about your- kei- hawks. your messages were full of texts from rumi and kazuki. a few from present mic, even a text from best jeanist’s assistant with a message from the pro.

suddenly, there was a knock on the door and you jumped off the couch. you glanced at the time, a little after midnight. you had hopes for who it was. you also didn’t know what you’d do if it was him. you slowly walked to the front door, willing your heart rate to calm down, and you reached forward to open the door.

you gasped at the sight in front of you, your phone clattering to the floor but you paid it no attention. hawks stood at your door, covered in dirt and dust and… blood? his jacket was gone, pants torn and ripped to barely there shreds of fabric. his flight goggles and headphones were gone, hair caked in dirt and sweat and he looked like he was seconds from falling over. he looked small without his massive wings behind him, most of the feathers left at the scene.

“‘m sorry. i tried, tried to go home. you were closer and,” hawks gestured to himself. “kind of grounded. i’m sorry, i can go.” he swayed a bit. you dove forward as he stumbled, and you held him up as he leaned into you. you kicked the door shut and you repositioned yourself to better support the hero as you walked towards your bathroom. “what are you doin’?” his voice was hoarse, and you made note to grab him water, as well as a million other things once you got him settled.

“first, im gonna clean you up. get some water for you, heat up some leftovers, and get you in clean clothes before i put you in bed.”

“what? no- i. i was horrible. you can’t… you can’t be nice to me. not after everything i said.” hawks said and you shushed him.

“shh, you’re going to wreck your voice more. we’ll talk once you’re taken care of.” you walked into the bathroom and made quick work of setting up a shower. you started to step away to grab towels and you felt a hand grab your arm.

“don’t leave me. please,” he rasped and you turned to face him, your heart aching at the sight in front of you. your keigo.

“not going anywhere. just grabbing towels, yeah?” you walked with him to the hallway, and you grabbed your fluffiest towels. you then grabbed a caddy full of keigo’s favorite toiletries. his shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and oil for his wings. he was missing a lot of feathers, but you’d take care of what was left. he was hurt, your birdie was hurt. it was your turn to be the hero, to make sure he was okay.

when you returned to the bathroom a minute later, keigo’s tired eyes lit up at your return.

“let’s get you in the shower, yeah?“ you set the towels down, put his supplies in the shower, and turned on the shower to his preferred temperature. you then walked to him and placed a gentle hand on his shirt. you glanced up at him and when he nodded, you gently began to peel his uniform off him. you quickly scanned him as you removed more articles of clothing, taking note of any new injuries and were relieved to see relatively little. once keigo had been stripped, you stepped into the shower with him, ignoring the fact you still had your t-shirt and sleep shorts on. your only focus was keigo right now, and you guided him under the shower head.

keigo’s exhaustion had seemed to hit as he leaned against you, and you supported him as you let the water get the top layer of grime off him. “there we go,” you soothed as you shifted, reaching for his shampoo. “there’s my birdie,” a weak chirp left him and you smiled sympathetically. “think you can sit so i can wash your hair?”

wordlessly, keigo moved to kneel down and once he settled, you began to scrub his hair. your hands worked in his hair until they ached, getting everything from the collapsed building from his hair before you added the shampoo. you took your time sudsing up his hair, and you smiled when you brushed some baby feathers in his hairline that caused keigo to coo quietly. keigo pressed a kiss to your stomach as you worked and leaned into your touch, much like a cat being petted. you helped him stand back up once you were ready to wash his body, and keigo practically laid against the wall of the shower as you worked to clean him off efficiently but quickly.

what felt like ages later, you turned the shower off and wrapped keigo up in a towel. you used the other towel to pat your own clothes dry quickly before you started to towel dry his hair.

“why are you… being so nice to me?” keigo asked and you frowned.

“i’m always going to care about you, pretty bird. you were a dick earlier,” you admitted. “but like it or not, you’ve wormed your way into my heart. you deserve to be taken care of, kei. we both know you don’t do it enough for yourself.” you moved to stand behind keigo and you looked at him in the mirror. “is it okay if i touch them?” you glanced at his baby wings and back at him. you held the oil in your hand, letting him see what your intentions were and you panicked when you saw his eyes fill with tears.

-

keigo couldn’t believe it. he had been horrible to you. he had tried to be horrible, he had never planned to come back to you this way. but he did and you? you dumbfounded him with how you treated him. as if you had just had a little spat over him breaking your heart. he could feel your heartbeat change during the conversation you two had in his office, he could practically hear your heart breaking over his words. but when he came to you, bloody and dirty, wings practically gone, and you treated him so tenderly. so… lovingly. when the first tear slid down his cheek, a dam broke. keigo chirped in surprise as you spun him around before he threw himself into your arms. he sobbed as he clung to you, as if you’d vanish into nothingness if he let go.

your arms immediately tightened around him and you used one hand to stroke his wing, the other combed through his hair so gently, sad warbles left his throat. “whatever happened,” you started. “we’ll handle it. me and you, yeah?” keigo tried to respond but couldn’t force any words out, more chirps leaving him as he nodded against your neck. “that’s my songbird.” you held him until his sobs turned into soft cries, and the cries into the occasional sniffle. keigo’s wing twitched as he felt you began to pay more attention to the feathers, and his eyes began to well up with tears again as he realized. you were preening him.

you’ve straightened his feathers out before a handful of times, usually for shoots or press interviews. he’s never had this much attention paid to them before, never in such a caring way at least. his body became lax against you, pleased coos and quiet chirps leaving his throat every now and then.

once you had finished, you led keigo to your room. you walked to the drawer with keigo’s things and he watched as you pulled out clothes for him to sleep in. “gonna change out of my wet clothes real quick, okay?” he nodded and you smiled softly at him before walking to your own side of the dresser. the two of you got dressed in a comfortable silence and you guided him to the living room, where minutes later, you settled onto the couch with dinner. keigo stayed curled into your side and you seemed perfectly content as you stroked his hair.

what felt like an eternity later, keigo was finally able to speak again. “i tried to come home. when i got off that mission. it.. it went horrible and i just wanted you. but i fail- they had told me i failed. i wasn’t as efficient as i should be, one of the villains had managed to escape before i caught him again. if i was a proficient hero, he never would have gotten a chance to get away.” you looked up as keigo spoke, and keigo struggled to maintain eye contact with you. you always seemed to see him, and that was terrifying.

“so i was already beating myself up when they sent me to another disaster, to redeem myself,” he quoted and you scowled at the words. “and i did better, that’s what they told me. and for a minute, i didn’t feel like a failure anymore. i felt worthy of my hero title so i…”

“you stayed busy, worked harder and harder to get rid of that bad feeling.” you finished for him and keigo nodded.

“but no matter what i did, how many patrols i went on, how many hours late i worked, it wasn’t good enough. they said i’m letting personal things get in the way of me being a good hero, that i was a better hero alone.” keigo trailed off and you looked sad, yet angry at the same time.

“they were the reason for our fight.” you said and keigo hummed in response.

“still. i never should have said what i did,” keigo cupped your cheek and you leaned into the touch. “i need you to know. need you to know you’re so much more to me than an assistant. maybe i’m a worse hero for it, but i love you. i love you, so much.” keigo’s voice shook and you scooted closer to him.

“i love you too,” you whispered. you glanced at keigo’s lips then back up at him, golden gaze meeting your own. you leaned in and brushed your lips against his, and keigo let out a soft breath as he kissed you. he had kissed you countless times, but none had ever been this soft. this slow, this.. vulnerable. there was no rush, nothing you were aiming for. just the two of you intertwined, and keigo didn’t break the kiss until he was out of breath, and he smiled at the quiet whine you made. “i think,” you said after a minute. “you need a few days to recover. bed rest, doctor’s orders.”

“you’re a doctor now, hmm?” keigo smiled as he pressed lazy kisses down your jaw and you pulled a blanket over the two of you. “can’t argue with doctor’s orders.”

“bed rest is the first step in treatment. cuddles could speed up the healing process, as well.” you said matter-of-factly as you tangled your legs with his own. keigo closed his eyes as you buried your face into his chest, and as you rubbed his back, keigo’s thoughts became fuzzy.

“careful, will stay here forever.” you nuzzled closer and keigo vaguely remembered your reply before you fell asleep.

“i’d love nothing more.”

[writteninkat]

Special Forces | Bakugou x Villain Reader

synopsis: You've decided to turn over a new leaf and leak intel on the League of Villains, sending the government’s special forces straight to your door. One tiny hiccup—their potty-mouthed leader has his sights set on making you his next target.

w/c: 3.2k

warnings: bondage, oral (f&m receiving), pervert Bakugou, unprotected sex, overstimulation, slight exhibition, not proofread !!

a/n: you've imagined special forces bakugou before. don't u fuckin lie to me

navigation

"I smell a rat." Dabi narrows his eyes at you. "Shigaraki go take a fucking bath." You quickly deflect is assumption, making Twice and Spinner cackle out loud.

"How about you shut the fuck up." Shigaraki sneers at you, resuming whatever the fuck he's doing on the paper on his table.

You return your gaze at Dabi, glaring at him.

Okay—he definitely called you out. But no one at LoV has any reason to believe him. You've done your part in the group; terrorized innocent civilians with a grin so wide your cheeks hurt at the end of the day, tortured members of the police with a straight face, and followed Shigaraki's orders quietly with no questions. But they've been taking twice as much time these past few months.

You've been duplicating each and every document your stand-in leader has sent you, and have been sending them to the Heroes Association under an alias. Hawks has been trying to track you down, asking pressing questions about you to Dabi. But that man never talks—god bless his heart, and you're always hiding whenever you catch a glimpse of those red feathers.

All that damned association knows is that they've been getting pretty intel regarding this cursed group from a nameless and faceless informant. They should stop looking at a gift horse in the mouth, especially bird man. But his ego's hurt because someone is giving out better data than him.

"You smell like blood." Toga points out, smiling up at you with a feverish smile. The first time you met her, she was sweet and cute. That was quickly squished the moment you saw her fight. Now, she gives you the heebie jeebies.

"I'll go wash up." You mutter, unable to cut the eye contact until you had to physically force yourself to look away.

As you walk towards the stairs leading to the basement, you feel Dabi's piercing eyes on you. God, you hate it when that man stares at you like that. He never fails to send goosebumps scattering your skin. He somehow makes your blood boil with the absence of anger, and something tingles. You don't know what, but something definitely tingles.

You ignore that usual feeling when it comes to the dark-haired man and continue down the basement and into your room. Quickly turning the lock, you strip out of your boots, leggings and halter turtleneck, undoing your ponytail to quickly enter your bathroom. Doffing off your underwear, you turn the knob and let the cold water spray your body.

Fuck these villains. They bring nothing but havoc and destruction. If you're going to ruin people's lives, at least get rich too.

You look down, taking note of the pinkish liquid going down the drain. One thing about wearing black- it's difficult to spot blood. Especially when you're constantly staying at low-lit areas.

You sigh, "Guess Toga wasn't lying."

You massage your scalp with your favorite sweet-smelling shampoo, rinising it out before applying conditioner, clamping it up as you work through scrubbing your entire body.

If you were going to live with the rats, you made sure to at least clean yourself properly every time you shower. You were a villain, not a monster.

As you begin to finally rinse off everything, you feel the air growing uneasy. The con with your rooms being underground is that you can never hear what goes on upstairs and vice-versa. You hate not knowing what's going on, so you quickly but thoroughly rinse off your body, wringing your hair before wiping your arms off with a towel.

You manage to begin your shoulders when a loud bang freezes your body.

Fuck.

Your eyes are wide as you look around your small bathroom, looking for a way out. Of course you don't find anything. This is underground, for god's sake!

You drop your towel, activating your quirk. Red aura engulfs both your hands as you get into a fighting stance. Whoever was outside your bathroom door, they knew exactly how to be quiet. They were good at it.

One second passes.

Two.

The air is stuck in your throat and you feel like you might throw up.

Three.

I should just go out there and start killing the first person I see. My members be damned.

Four, five-

A loud explosion has your bathroom door flying off it's hinges and towards you. Quickly, you use your quirk to destroy it into splinters.

Your quirk- red ruins. Telekineses with a hint of disentigrating everything in your path within a hundred mile radius. Yes, it's incredibly powerful and violent. Problem? It's strength depends on your cardio. And you hate exercising.

"Whose pussy do these pretty panties belong to?" A deep voice rumbles through the cloud of smoke and dust. The scent of burnt sugar fills your nostrils before the sense of dread washes over you like a bucket of cold water.

There's only one person in the Heroes Association who is widely known for such a scent.

"These smell incredibly sweet." In front of you, a man five feet and eight inches tall stands. On his head is a mask that covers almost everything but his vermilion eyes. His hand is raised to where his mouth and nose are located, and it has something pink and lacey crumpled in it.

"Panties..." You breathe out, watching Hero Dynamight take a deep breath in, smelling your panties without shame.

He has on a fitting shit with a bulky vest, cargo pants and boots. Any other time, you'd find it incredibly hot. Especially with the way the sleeves of his shirt struggle to enclose his biceps- biceps so big they look like they take up your entire thigh. Maybe even more? [Any other time], not now, though. His palm is glowing orange and one mistake will have you burnt to crisps.

"They are. Seem familiar?" He asks, dangling the small piece of fabric in the space between the two of you. Ypur cheeks flush at the obscenity unfolding infront of you.

"Yeah, they're mine. Give 'em back." You demand, holding your hand out as he simply eyes it.

"C'mere 'nd take 'em then." He teases, hanging the strap of your underwear on his pointer finger. You frown, taking a step before stopping yourself. You use your quirk to flick it from his fingers. Right before the lace makes contact with your palm, a white steel-wire encircles itself around your wrists, pulling you forward, making you wat dirt.

"What the fuck!" You exclaim, trying to get on your hands and knees but Dynamight pushes you down by your head with his booted foot. With your head turned to the side, you strain your eyes to the corners, watching him catch the thin scrap of fabric easily.

You begin manifesting your quirk once again, but come to a dead end when nothing happens. "What the-?"

"Technology is amazing these days, isn't it?" He chuckles, playing with the lace between his gloved fingers. "It's managed to copy Aizawa's quirk. With this, those smartasses integrated the power into this scarf."

He takes his foot off of you, replacing it with his hand instead. "Whatever target this scarf is locked to, their quirks vanish like that."

You helplessly try to push him off of you, but with little to no strength training, you're a puddle of defenseless goo underneath him.

His eyes lock into yours before drifting down your naked back, piercing onto a part you know very well. Right below the middle of your back, the words "Favorite crime" is tattooed in a type writer font. It's quite small, four inches long, inked when you were seventeen after deciding maybe the good citizen life wasn't for you when the government took both your parents and labelling their quirks as something 'hazardous' to the public. They helped you escape but that left you with nothing.

It's cringey and cheesy, but you were only seventeen.

Five years later, and you don't regret it.

"Maybe you will be." Dynamight mutters, smirking as he grabs you by your hair, looking deep into your eyes. "Pretty." He grunts before flipping you around, pulling you to your feet as he wraps the scarf around your wrists.

"Let go of me!" You demand, the feeling of being pulled up by your wrists forces you to stand on your tippy toes. Barely.

Dynamight has you hanging by your wrists onto the shower curtain rod, the scarf disabling your quirk. You take note of your naked state, your cheeks flaring at how exposed you are for him.

The hero's eyes glances you from your hands to your toes, agonizingly slow, before making it back up your cunt.

"Which part of our interaction did you like?" He takes a step forward, unjustly stealing the last bit of air between the both of you. Caramel and smoke fill your senses, making you light-headed.

"Was it me stepping on you? The simple fact of being held down? Or being tied up? Huh?" He stands toe to toe in front of you, having to crane his neck down at your short stature. He slips his gloves off, showing off clean fingers.

"What's got you this wet, baby?" With that, his fingers press against your cunt, moving across and between your folds.

Your back arches at the lewd feeling, a moan threatening to escape as he finds the ball of pleasure in your center, making you bite down on your lip.

"F-fuck! Fuck!" You whine, your thighs squeezing together, wanting to stop his hand from moving but [needing] to keep it there.

Despite being villains, the group you joined in engage in everything [but] sex. For months, you've been teetering on the edge, unable to find the time or energy to get off.

Now, however...

"Such a soft cunt." Dynamight whispers, pushing a digit inside. His thick fingers surprised you, causing a loud mewl to slip from your lips. Without warning, the hero shoves your panties inside your mouth. "I've got my squad upstairs, can't have them hearing that pretty voice of yours."

His digit continues pumping inside you as his thumb traces circles on your clit, your body shaking in pleasure. "You should see how you look right now, pretty girl." Dynamight grumbles, pressing his forehead against yours. "Gonna cum for me, pretty? Gonna cum for your daddy?"

Your eyes roll back and nod your head as your legs begin to give out from under you. Just as you're about to climax, he drops to his knees, pulling his finger out. He hooks his thumb under his mask, swiftly taking it off, revealing his blond locks and hellishly beautiful features.

You look down at him, just now understanding the term "pretty like the devil".

He replaces his finger with his tongue, burying his face into your cunt as he sucks. He lifts you up by the backs of your thighs, sliding them over his shoulders, tongue-fucking you until you're seeing stars, your thighs shake as his abuse on your clit fail to falter.

"'S even sweeter from the core." He grumbles into your cunt, lapping up your juices until your muffled whines tick him off.

He pushes your legs off of him as he glares at you, standing up to his full height once again. "You just don't know how to shut up, huh?" He tilts his head to the side, undoing the scarf bounding your wrists in one swift tug. You fall heavily on your knees, unable to collect yourself when he tugs on your hair, forcing you to look up. He pulls the panties from your mouth, pocketing them.

You meet his fiery gaze, but your eyes quickly drop at the sight of him undoing his belt with one hand. The scene has your pussy pulsing once more.

I may be a slut.

He makes quick work of his belt and button, but he stops there. He bends over, tying your wrists together behind you. "Take me out." He orders, his grip on your hair tighter than before.

"I- What?" You ask, confusion distinct in your voice. He's bounded your hands behind you, how the hell does he expect you to work?

"With your mouth." He answers, as if reading your mind.

Your cheeks heat in embarassment but you quickly gather yourself once more. Raising yourself up a bit, you bite down on his zipper, pulling it down. Underneath it, you find the outline of his cock under his boxer briefs, hard, big, waiting. At the tip, you find a damp spot.

Precum?

You look up at him in question and he looks down at you with a brow raised. "Well? Keep going." He urges you by pulling you towards him, your face pressing against his cock.

You bite down on the garter of his briefs, pulling it down the best you can. You catch sight of a patch of blond hair and before you know it, you've pulled down enough for his cock to spring out, hitting you on the cheek.

Dynamight smiles maliciously, giving your head a soft tug. "Open." He whispers.

You follow his demands, parting your lips.

"Wider."

You follow once again.

"Even wider, pretty. You're gonna have to do more than that if you want me to fit."

You glare at him. Cocky motherfucker.

Instead of doing as he says, you stick your tongue out, licking him up from base to tip. Dynamight lets out a deep grumble from his chest, but you don't stop as you toy at his tip, tasting the salty precum, smearing it around your lips.

"Stop bein' a tease and wrap those pretty lips around me, darlin'."

You bite down on your lip before opening once more, taking him as best as you can without your jaw falling off. Dynamight's breaths are erratic and inconsistent as you hallow your cheeks, sucking him as hard as you can.

"Fuck!" He breathes out, his hips fitful as you take him deeper, the corners of your eyes stinging with tears at the feeling of his head touching the back of your throat.

You pull away quickly, creating a string of saliva connecting his cock with your lips as you look up at him. "C'mon pretty girl, I know you can do better than that."

You look back at his cock to see only half of it wet with saliva. Your heart poinds in your chest at your new goal—take everything Hero Dynamight has without throwing up.

Fucking gag reflex...

With new incitement, you find your lips wrapped around his cock once more, only this time, you try to push yourself down, closer to his base this time.

You swirl your tongue around him, thinking about anything else but his tip slipping down your throat an inch every moment.

His hot, must scent.

His big fingers gripping on your hair.

His cock inside your throat-

And with that, you trigger your gag reflex, the movement of your throat tightening around him has the hero moaning loudly. He pulls his hips back for a moment and you begin to thank multiple higher beings for such sweet air, but the prayer dies quickly when the blond pushes himself back in.

"Gods, this mouth was made for fucking." He cries out, looking down at you. He continues thrusting with reckless abandon, the muscles in your throat constantly tight.

God, if you exist, please don't let me get a sore throat tomorrow.

His hips snap with hasty thrusts, his moans bouncing off the four walls of your bathroom, and his fingers dig even deeper through your hair, on your scalp.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He cries, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as tears run down your cheeks, snot trickling down your lip.

With one last thrust, he buries himself down your throat to the hilt, your nose pressing against his blond patch as he comes down your throat, his chest rising and falling rapidly, jaw clenched, and eyes brimming with desire.

When he finally pulls out, you fall on your side, coughing and gasping for the dear air you've craved so badly. Your thighs clench together as you think about what you believe is to be the single most hottest thing you've ever done.

"You like that, you little slut?" The hero taunts, pulling you and dragging you through the floor by your ankle. He pushes you on your back, hands on both sides of your hips as he taps his dick on your sensitive cunt.

"Hold on a minute-"

Without wasting another moment, he pushes inside you, your walls stretching for him in welcome. His size has the air inside your lungs locked in, your lips part and you have the strongest urger to scream. But you can't.

He's just so...

"Big!" You manage whine out, making Dynamight cackle. "Fuck yeah, that's right pretty." Unlike the throat fucking, his thrusts this time are slow and languid. As if he has all the time in the world.

"You take my dick so good, pretty girl." He praises, your walls fluttering around him. You can feel every detail. Every vein, every curve, every pulse.

Slowly, you begin to notice his thrusts progress faster and faster until loud slaps fill the bathroom. Your tits bounce with every drive, making the hero slap them once, twice- before grabbing onto them forcefully, tugging and playing with your nipples.

Your breathy whines begin to join his whispered cursing, your eyes fluttering shut as you feel the impending feeling of an orgasm right at your fingers.

"Open your eyes for me baby." Dynamight whispers, "We have company."

Your eyes instantly open, the hero pulling your hips up as he fucks you, leaving your head on the floor. His eyes are trained infront of him, a cocky smirk gracing his lips. You follow his line of vision and your eyes fall upon an upside down sight of Red Riot. His eyes are wide, jaw slack, and a tent evident in his pants.

Immediately, your orgasm takes you, waves upon waves almost drowning you. The feeling of your walls clamping down on him has Dynamight chasing after his own high. Just when he reaches it, your pleasure ceases. He grits his teeth, slapping your overstimulated clit, forcing another orgasm out of you as spills inside your cunt. You scream and shake through this one, tears streaming down your face as you thrash away from the hero.

You're out of breath, sweaty, sticky with cum and your body feels like it's a heartbeat away from collapsing.

"Not gonna lie, that shit was hot but..." You hear red riot chuckle and through your blury vision, you see his red boots infront of you. He's crouching over you, the movement on your wrists a tell tale sign of the scarf being hndone. "Will she be okay?"

"My pretty girl is a strong one."

My pretty girl...?

"Don't tell anyone else about her." Dynamight orders.

"What are you-"

"I'll take her to my place, so keep your mouth shut and I might share her with you." You can [hear] that bitchass smirk in his tone.

A moment passes.

"Alright." Red Riot finally concedes, "What are you gonna do with her?"

You feel rough hands pull you up until strong arms engulf you.

Who's carrying me? Red Riot?

Sweet caramel fills your senses.

Dynamight?

"Whatever the fuck I want." The blond spits and by this time, your eyelids have fluttered shut.

"Be careful with her, Bakugou." Red Riot hastily adds.

"Bakugou..." You whisper before nothing.

[fairsweetlonging]

Okay but Mocking bird demon SY (has shapeshifting powers) pretending to be SQQ to help LBH. No system, SJ lives, just SY will not let his protagonist be miserable. He optionally also wife beams LQG who is extremely confused and horny as to why SQQ is playing hot and cold with him

i LOVE that idea oh my goodneeees!!! all the shen yuan bird aus are a GIFT that keeps on GIVING!!

as a bird he can easily live on mount cang qiong and get around unnoticed, because what peak lord or disciple is going to look twice at a small, grey silver bird? it allows him to stay close to luo binghe and help him in every way he can, from giving him food he carries in his little talons or beak, singing to him when he's down, keeping him company in the forest, to making silly mimic sounds to make him laugh.

i looked up a little about mockingbirds and apparently they're extremely territorial when raising hatchlings and their nest (attacking even cats, hawks and humans), which is perfect because luo binghe is (definitely!) a helpless hatchling in need of protecting, i mean, technically his wings haven't even properly grown in yet, he can't fly! so cue ming fang and other bullies getting relentlessly attacked when they try to come near binghe.

and then the shapeshifting: from what i've gathered, mockingbirds sing regularely at night, so i can imagine shen yuan waiting until nightfall and shen jiu goes to bed when he makes his move. he dons the master's form, goes to the woodshed, and takes binghe out to train in the forest with a real manual. of course, binghe is immediately enamoured with the man shen qingqiu becomes when night falls, maybe he even starts to think it's a "werewolf" thing where he changes when the moon comes up, because there isn't really any explanation to why the soft words, gentle touches and kind eyes turn into sneers, violence and glares as soon as the sun is up!

bc he does have the protagonist halo, and even in canon binghe knew something was up, i think he figures it out eventually when he starts alluding to certain events that never happened but that his "shizun" plays along with. also the bird has the exact same way of petting his head/ruffling his hair as his night-shizun does. one and one equals two, after all.

and liu qingge yeeeessss!! if in this au shen yuan saved him in the caves as well, he's probably getting such a headache from the complete 180s shen qingqiu keeps making!! one moment everything is great, shen qingqiu is tending to his wounds with such gentleness and a kind smile, and when liu qingge runs into him at night (when shen qingqiu always looks kind of... hurried, for some reason, almost a little nervous), they share a smile and a laugh and one time shen qingqiu even hugged him; but then when liu qingge tries to sit next to him at the meetings suddenly he's getting snarled at, called a dumb dirty beast and to sit elsewhere?? hello??? never mind getting invited into the bamboo house, or shen qingqiu accepting his (dead animal) gifts.

i also think it'd be so really funny if shen yuan ended up not caring about continuation errors or consistent character behavior, and just goes all out on the OCC by being kind to everyone in shen qingqiu's form; flirting with liu qingge, cuddling with yue qingyuan, spoiling luo binghe rotten, gifting mu qingfang all kinds of rare herbs that he can find easily in his demon bird form, and generally being a moon-saint that everyone comes to realize isn't actually shen qingqiu, but since he's doing good for the community and not harming anyone, they kind of just..... leave it. the peak lords have a meeting about it (sans shen jiu of course), and they decide the night-qingqiu can stay.

tho i do think yue qingyuan would ask shen yuan to don a different form.

also also, shen yuan getting up to all kinds of mischief by mimicking other peak lords' voices: calling to disciples with their shizun's voice, watching them get all confused because no one's there?? or making shang qinghua go around in circles because he keeps saying "this way, shang qinghua, hurry up!" in an angry liu qingge voice. and also making shen jiu open the door to no one when he mimics yue qingyuan's voice. there's a LOT he can do with it🤭

[thehusbandoden]

Hello Brain Damage! I hope you're doing okay. :) I had to actually stop every thing I was doing today cause I was so tired that I couldn't focus or work at all. That being said, (if you're not to busy, and I apologize if I'm overloading you with requests) I would really love to see how the MHA characters would react if the reader was just so tired they couldn't do anything, and I mean I was doing an online document and every few minutes I would stop to look for my paper (sadly there was no physical sheet). I literaly got 6 sentences down in an hour, it felt like I lost the ability to read. thankfully I'm much better after a nap! Have a lovely day, and take a break if you need one!! <3

A/n: you're too sweet. Don't overwork yourself and remember to get yourself some rest!! You're not overloading me at all, feel free to send as many requests as your heart desires! I hope this fits your taste, if not you can always send in another ask/comment and I'll fix whatever is needed! <33

Comforting Their Exhausted s/o

General info:

Genre: comfort/fluff \\ wc: 1,284 (in total) \\ characters: Hawks, Dabi, Bakuhoe

Hawks:

Oh, he will not stand for it. Nothing, and I mean nothing is allowed to torment his Babybird! Running like a madman, Hawks skids into your office, honey eyes squinting at your exhausted form.

"Babybird! This is unacceptable!" Hawks exclaimed, pouncing onto your lap.

"W-what is?!" You exclaim, holding onto Hawks larger form to stop the both of you from falling.

"You're exhausted my baby!"

"Oh.. I'm fine, baby. Really."

"But- your eyes have bags under them!"

"I'm fine, Bird brain. Now may I please get back to work?"

"No! No you may not!" Scooping you up in his arms, Hawks plops you onto your shared bed, laying ontop of you to stop you from squirming away from him.

"Let me go! I'm not afraid to-"

Shutting you up with a kiss, Hawks hums as he trails kisses from the top of your face down to your collarbone.

"You need rest, Darling." Hawks hums, pecking your lips twice before flipping you over, ending up with you laying on his chest.

"But-"

"No no no. Cuddle your hubby and then we can finish it together, mkay?"

Nodding fondly, you rest your head against Hawks chest, listening to his heartbeat with a wide smile on your face.

~~

(The next morning; 10:02 a.m.)

"Babybird~"

"My darling~"

"Light of my life~"

"Darling~"

You awoke to a soft, heavenly voice and a series of strange pressure trailing along your face. Blinking open your eyes, you smile as Hawks kisses your entire face, sweetly calling you by his many pet names.

As he realized you were awake, Hawks grinned down at you, honey eyes shining with adoration.

"There you are goregous." Hawks cooed, kissing your lips sweetly.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down to lay on top of you, wrapping your legs across his winged back. "Hi handsome."

Smile widening, Hawks kissed you once more before nuzzling into you, sighing as you scratch the base of his wings.

"I made us breakfast.. but I'd like to stay like this for a little longer."

Giggling, you move one hand to play with his hair and the other to caress his back. "Okay, but only for a few minutes. I'm hungry."

Dabi:

You didn't even notice Dabi coming into the apartment, or even into your office. Your eyes were simply focussed on your screen, re-reading the same sentence for what seemed like the thousandth time.

You knew that you needed rest and that you weren't really getting any work done, but you needed to get this project done. Your boss was already breathing down your throat for submitting your last project late, and you couldn't afford being fired or having a pay decrease.

Since you and Dabi moved in together, you've both been working yourself to the bone, working almost 24-7 to try and provide for one another. Though it hurt his pride, Dabi just couldn't carry for the both of you due to his low income, and so you both heavily relied on your income, paying the bills plus most of the other expenseses with your semi lousy income.

Due to your growing exhaustion, you've been flailing, and your boss was nowhere near patient enough to deal with it; which simply put more stress on your shoulders.

Sighing, you rub your eyes; holding back tears yet again. You had to stay strong.

You loved Dabi. A lot, actually. You couldn't just give up and leave him to try and work himself dead just to make sure that you were comfortable and happy.

You had to be fine for him. He already sacrifices so much just to try and lessen your load by a little bit. "Just hold it in. He doesn't need to worry about me-"

You were interrupted by a pair of familiar lips being roughly pressed against your own, drowning your words out with ease. Once you got rid of your initial shock and started to kiss back, his lips were gone.

"What did you say?" Dabi growled, turquoise eyes piercing your e/c ones.

"I- I just didn't want to bother or worry you.." you sigh, eyes glued to Dabi's large hands that were currently holding onto your wrists.

"What are you talking about!? Y/n- you can't do that to me. If you're struggling, I need to be able to help you."

"But-"

"No buts. Put your shoes in mine."

Giggling, you brush the hair out of Dabi's face, looking up at him with your pretty doe eyes.

"Don't you mean 'put yourself in my shoes'?" You innocently ask, holding back your giggles as you study his face.

Opening his mouth, Dabi stopped before growling, moving himself to sit in your lap.

"Same thing. Now, what's bothering you?"

"It's nothing real-"

"If I have to ask again I won't be talking to you next time I'm struggling."

"Fine! Bully."

As you vented Dabi moved you into his lap, holding your form against his chest as he pet your hair, comforting you as best as he could. Though he didn't always know what to say when it came to comfort, he knew how to listen, and he knew how to silently show you he cared with gentle caresses and giving you your favorite seat; his lap.

After you were done venting he simply held you, quietly cooing words of comfort and affirmation into your ear, telling you how much he cared about you.

After holding you for a while you fell asleep, causing Dabi's cold and broken heart to soften, maybe even healing a little bit.

Tucking you against his chest, Dabi held you while you slept, caressing your arm, waist, and hip. Every few moments he would leave a gentle, loving kiss to your forehead. After a while of cuddling you, Dabi reluctantly slipped out of your hold, moving towards your computer.

Looking over what needed to be done, Dabi smirked. Nothing is going to stress his Babydoll out.

You woke up to your favorite breakfast in bed, a smiling Dabi, and a finished and turned in project. The rest of the day was filled with only one another.

Bakugou Katsuki:

"Oi. You need to get some sleep, idiot." Bakugo's loud voice rang from the kitchen, causing you to sigh.

"Baby, I need to get this project done, you know that!" You call, shutting your eyes for five seconds before trying to force yourself to read the words on the screen.

"No, sleep!"

"Sorry babe, I can't." You sigh, looking up at your fuming fiance.

"Yes, yes you can. You came over to have a sleep over, not to work." He grumbled, setting your plate of desert in front of you.

Smiling, you give him a kiss on his jaw as a thank you, eyeing your favorite home made treat appreciatively.

"Eat that, then get to sleep or I'm gonna take that laptop of yours away.

"Sweetie, you can't do that."

"Oh yes I can. I can do whatever I want, it's my place, and my girl's health!"

"Aww, are you saying you care about me~?"

"NO! I'm not. The- the light's annoying. That's all."

"Mhmm~"

Smirking at Bakugo, you move to sit down on the bed next to him, resting your head on his shoulder as you dig in.

"It's delicious, thank you baby." You whisper, pecking the pro hero's muscular shoulder.

"Yeah yeah, just finish eating."

Smiling fondly, you finish the dessert before wrapping your arms around Bakugo, pecking his lips. "Thank you, love."

"Yeah yeah." He murmured, wrapping his arms around you before bringing you to bed.

"Oh you little brat." You giggle, holding onto the man you loved with your entire being.

"Shhh sleep time. It's past our bedtime."

"Katsu-"

"Past. Bed. Time."

~~~~~

Hawks' masterlist | Dabi's masterlist | Bakugo's masterlist | Navigation

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Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! <33

~~~~~

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.

[sanscat0414]

Sideline 2

Hawks x Timid Reader

Scenario: Hawks loses his memories after a villlan fight leading to head trauma. His sidekick was all the more ready to take your place as his girlfriend. She fed him lies to make Hawks hate you. Will he remember you or will you remain a thorn in his eyes.

Masterlist

Part 1

It’s been two months since Hawks was out of the hospital. He knows something wasn’t right. Some things just didn’t make sense. Vivian, his ‘love’ just chalks it up to him being fuzzy because of his memory lost. He loves her right? Hawks felt something about her just didn’t seem right. He started noticing your absence, sure he didn’t know what he thought was missing was you but he could tell something was wrong. Going back to his apartment he felt like there was always something that is missing. Like his home wasn’t his home or how he would feel like he wasn’t complete despite having Vivian by his side. So he started distantly himself from her. Vivian tried to get more attention form him but he brushed her off saying he was busy.

He went back to hospital to check out what was that feeling of emptiness and if that was normally for someone who’s missing some of there memories.

“Well everything looks fine, Hawks. Side form your memories not completely back you are as healthy as a dime.”

“It’s weird tho. It’s like something is missing and I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“Well my guess that is your body remembers a feeling that your brain couldn’t. It’s kind of like muscle memory in a way. It’s like your instincts is telling you something is wrong because something isn’t the same as it used to be. That’s just something you need to figure out on your own. Maybe you should ask that lovely lady that was always by you bedside she might know something.”

“Vivian, purple hair girl with hot pink eyes?”

“No, she had (color) hair and she was super timid and wears a nice sliver feather necklace. What was her name…” the doctor said as he looked through Hawk’s papers “ah there she is, Y/N L/N. She was your emergency contact. She was here every time she had free time. She would help the nurses take care of you when it was possible.The poor girl was so worried for you she alway leave crying. She was heartbroken after you didn’t let her see you.”

“Why would she be in my emergency contact? also what about Vivian did she visit me?”

“Nope, only once or twice a week. Uptil you woke up.”

As he flew home, he thought long and hard about what he had learned. He was right something definitely didn’t add up. He thought maybe his cool bird intern could tell him something. Once he was home, he called Tokoyami to ask about you. Tokoyami didn’t say much other than you were important to him and how Vivian lied to him about about your character. Tokoyami said you were the sweetest person he knows and how He would constantly talked about her like a you where a goddess in private settings of course.

He decided there was no use sitting around and doing nothing so he went for a fly. He flew aimlessly around the city in deep thought only to land on a random apartment balcony. He didn’t know why he landed there but it felt right. He look around To see some cloths still out on the drying rack. Not long after he saw the light turn on and wanted to fly away, best not to disturb the resident who live here right. Something in his gut told him to stay. After a few minutes the curtains were opened and there you were.

There he was in front of you. Majestic as ever was he perched on your balcony like those nights he would come after a long day of work, only for you to great him. It hurt you to see him, knowing he wasn’t yours anymore, you thought it was just your kind playing tricks on you. After all he had a new girlfriend. You walked out pretending he’s not there gathering your cloths.

“Heyo.”

it startled you to here his voice. You look up to him and said “YOU…. YOUR ACTUALLY HERE?!?”

“shhh don’t wanna wake up your neighbor now.” “Do you need something, Hawks.” You said dejected and looking away.

“Mater a fact I do. I want to ask you something.” “Come inside. It’s cold we can talk then.” You said as you walked in followed by Hawks.

Hawks sat down on the couch. You offered him some tea and sat down on the couch facing Hawks.

“So what are you to me? I been thinking about stuff and something’s just didn’t make sense. With my memories I mean. “ “Why com to me then and not your girlfriend.” “Because it’s you that inconsistent. Viv said I hated you because you were a… well a b*tch, but evidence say otherwise. The doctor told me you been taking care of me day in and day out when I was unconscious. You were my emergency contact.”

“Would you even believe me if I told you the truth? You didn’t even want to hear a word out of me for the past month” You said looking down at your hands as you fidget.

“I just need to know… to be honest I don’t even know how I know how to get here. I just thought about see you. And here I am. I know I haven’t been the nicest to you but you clearly care about me. So be honest what were you to me.”

“I don’t know, that is for you to decide. What I can tell you is that you were my boyfriend.” You said and walked off.

You came back with an album/scrapbookk hoping that would help jog his memory. You handed it to him and patiently waited.

“You want me to look at it?” He said confused as you nodded.

He flip to a random page, it was you and him at the amusement park. He was in a disguise but both of you were smile and holdout cotton candy. There was a little note on the side ‘My babybird, best date ever my first time at an amusement part. -T.K.’

Flipped to another page it was him sleep on your couch with a mustache. ‘No fair got pranked today! -T.K’

Another photo, there were two pots infront of you guys. ‘It was so much fun to customize some pottery together! -(your initials.)’

Another with you and him in matching chicken oneis ‘Note: we need to get more matching out fits. -(your initials)’

He flipped through more of photos reading all the little snippets. There was warmth in it. He felt something in him changing, a sinse of longing for you. It’s like his body knew that it was you who made him feel so loved. Once he finished he hugged you. You flinched at the sudden contact and relaxed once he held you close wrapping his wings around you. This was it was missing. It was you. Your warmth, your love, your kindness, you and only you.

“I don’t remember our time together but after looking through these photos I did remember one thing. “ he said looking at you.

You look back into his eyes, there was no longer that hate you saw a month ago. It was replaced by the gentle look that loved so much. “What is it?” You asked quietly.

“That Hawks mate for life. And you are mine. My mate for life.”

“that’s two things.” You said as you give him a small smile.

“I’m sorry… so sorry. For putting you through so much. It must have hurt you to see me with another and how badly I had treated you. I’m sorry. “ he held you tight as he thought back form the way he treated you.

Guilt overwhelmed him as he held you like you would disappear in a moment. You wrapped your arms around him. For the first time in months you finally got to hug him. You took in every part of him. His dirty blonde hair, slightly muscular toned body, his sent of tropical wood, and his lovely crimson wings. Oh how much you missed being in his wings again. You two held each other for a long time before cuddling to sleep.

“Please don’t let go of me again, Keigo.” You said as you buried your face in his neck as your tears dripped down your face.

“Never again…. I promise and if I lose my memories again I promise I’ll fall in love with you all over again. If you lost your memory I’ll make you fall for me. I’ll hold you as along as I can. Babybird I will never let you go again. Not ever.” He couldn’t help but tear up too.

The next few months you two worked on building your relationship back up agian. Going on dates, looking through more scrapbook/albums and making new memories together. Vivian was abruptly fired from the Hawks agency after Hawks found out the truth. Slowly but surly Hawks would regain his memory completely and later Hawks would propose to you. Of course you said yes.

[captainjade101]

Toga: can we get some food

Dabi: bird brain recommended this takeaway joint apparently they have "banging chicken that just slaps" it's just down the road

Twice: woo food. 'I deeply despise food'

Spinner: ch... Wait

Mr compress: isnt hawk a bird...

Kurogiri: hawks are carnivorous so them eating chi-

Toga interrupting kurogiri: oh oh oh I'm just like hawksie I'm a carnivor

Dabi:no you're a cannibalistic syqopath

Spinner: isn't hawks a cannibal to if he eats chicken

Shigaraki: chicken entitys aren't birds

Mr. Compress: Chickens are birds..... you need to get off the internet maybe touch some grass to...

Dabi: I agree with hands over here. aren't chickens like dinosaurs

Kurogiri: *deep sigh* chickens are birds. Hawks are carnivorous

Shigaraki scracting his neck: so that hero is a cannibal that NPC is just as much as a villain as us

Dabi calling hawks: your a cannibal????

Hawks: wtf

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 26 - Lavender 7

Okay. Another update! This chapter has been in the works for a bit. Working on it on and off when I can between other parts.

Shanks gets his turn with our lovely devil fruit user. This is filthy, and I introduce some kinks I've never written for.

Warnings! SMUT! SMUT! Shanks is kinda rough. A little mean? Spit kink. Face fucking. Alcohol. Cum eating

Masterlist

Two days after he calls the cottage, Shanks arrives at your island. He relaxes the moment his chocolate eyes land on the white beaches and the familiar mountains to the west. Benn rolls his eyes at his Captain but can't find it in himself to be too upset with the other man. The first mate enjoyed your island, too. Its peacefulness was unparalleled.

A smile curls his lips when Shanks spots a ship in the shape of a coffin moored at the end of the white sands. He knew that Mihawk would be here. The other man had been the one to answer his call the other day, after all. It wasn’t often that the three of them had the chance to spend time together. Mihawk, while aloof and sarcastic about it all, still had his duties as a warlord.

He had explained to Shanks that the position kept him in the know-how but still allowed him the freedom he desired. The redhead had shrugged and nodded, assuring Mihawk that it was a smart choice, but he wasn’t about to let something like the World Government get in his way if it became a problem. Dracule had blushed and spluttered that He did what he wanted, regardless of what those pigs said, and then stormed off to find you and soothe his irritation with the Emperor.

Shanks smirks at the memory, coming back to himself in time to help his crew unload before Benn waves him off, a fond look on the older man’s face. The redhead doesn’t need to be told twice and quickly disappears up the well-worn footpath, shoulders slumping, and an invisible weight lifting when your cottage comes into sight. A delighted laugh breaks from him when he catches sight of what greets him.

You and Mihawk are elbow-deep in the front garden, dirt staining both of their hands. Hank jumps up the moment he spots the redhead, running over to greet his second favorite human with a happy woof. Shanks pets the shaggy dog, greeting him with a little bit of baby talk and telling Hank how good of a boy he is. When Hank is happy, he flops back to the ground with a long sigh, and the Emperor continues to the garden.

Shanks is careful where he steps, not wanting to have both of his treasures on his ass if he were to trample the garden. You stand and greet him, smile wide and radiant, and Shanks doesn't waste any time in pulling you in for a kiss. Your lips welcome him, and the Emperor sags, invisible weight leaving his shoulders as you kiss him back.

Mihawk is next, facial hair scratching against the other man's for but a second before the bird pulls away far too soon. Shanks pouts a bit and gets flicked in the forehead for his troubles.

“Welcome home, trouble,” Mihawk murmurs, and despite his uninterested tone, Shanks can see the pleased look in the hawk’s golden eyes.

“How was your trip?” You chime in and press yourself into his side, and Shanks’ heart could explode from how adorable you look.

“Not bad. Good weather, and the sea must be in a pleasant mood,” He comments and looks down at you. He takes in your appearance, brows notching up when he realizes that you aren't as cold, and you have less on than usual. Actually, “Is that my shirt?”

“Yup. It's very breathable,” you pop the p, but your admission just makes him grin, greed shining in his eyes as he gently tugs you away to get a better look. His shirt swallows you, the front dripping low and giving Shanks an excellent view of your perky tits. You look different, but in a good way as if a light was shining from within. He glances at Mihawk, curious if the other man had noticed the change, and relaxes when the warlord comes to his side, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.

“She's been practicing like we said to. How did you explain it to me, Angel?” Mihawk says, and you blush at having both of their attention on you.

You tell Shanks about practicing your devil fruit and how you began to feel better once you started to use it more often. You explain how your body evened out, as you liked to put it, and Shanks could hear the excitement lining your voice. It makes him happy to know that you had practiced your powers and seemed to be better than ever.

“That’s great, sweetheart,” Shanks grins down at you, reaching out to slide his hand along your neck, gently cradling your jaw. His grin grows when you nuzzle into him, and he strokes his thumb over the line of your jaw, “How about you finish up here, and then you can show me what you can do?”

You nod, joy erupting inside of you at the suggestion, “It won’t take too long, we are almost done,” you assure him, and Shanks nods then carefully steps out of the garden to mosey inside the cottage.

It doesn't take long for Mihawk to join him in the house. He goes straight to the kitchen, washing his hands of any dirt before he puts the kettle on. Shanks steps into the kitchen, coming up behind the older man, reaching out to curl his hand around Dracule's hip. He molds himself along the warlord’s back, tucking his face in the crook of his neck.

“She really okay?” Shanks murmurs, and busies himself with pressing kisses to the back of Mihawk's neck while he waits.

Mihawk slowly relaxes against the other man, still getting used to being able to do this with the other man after so many years apart. His hand finds the one his hip, and he gently squeezes his wrist in reassurance, “She is. She's gotten stronger and would be formidable with real training.”

Shanks hums, disliking the thought of you having to fight. Dracule tightens his grip around his wrist, and Shanks knows that the warlord agrees with him. Mihawk sighs softly, head tilting back to rest against Shanks as he continues, “Mhm. I'd rather not, but if she wants to learn, then I won't hinder her progress.”

“You? A teacher?” Shanks teases gently and pinches his waist with a smirk, “Couldn't imagine it.”

Mihawk scoffs at the redhead, eyes rolling skyward, “Considering Roronoa is well on his way to being second to only, Me. I think that already proves that I can be one.”

Shanks snickers at the miffed pride that laces his treasures’ voice. Mihawk was always so fun to rile up. He gently turns the other man, he reaches up, tucking his knuckle under that perfect beard, and kisses the other man, a gentle push and pull that had Mihawk sighing and sliding one hand into Shanks’ hair.

He has missed the warlord. How had he allowed so much time to pass without finding the other man, Shanks didn't know, but now that he had him? Shanks would never let him go again.

Dracule rests his brow against the Emperor’s, breath mingling with the other man's. He licks his lips and catches the taste of sweet sake. He searches the other's dark eyes, and Shanks catches sight of the devious, smug look that swims in Mihawk's own.

“What's that look for, Baby?” Shanks murmurs curiously, brow ticking up at the other man.

Mihawk leans in, kissing the redhead again, and Shanks can feel the smirk that lingers on his lips. The redhead feels like he is missing something here, especially when you appear in the kitchen, a mischievous grin playing on your face. He watches you wash your hands and then takes the kettle from the stove when it begins to whistle, eyes following you even as he continues the kiss with his warlord.

And then Dracule is pulling away, and leaving Shanks standing there like a knot on a log as his treasures dither about, moving past one another with a close familiarity that the redhead silently envies. He does get the chance to pout about it, not when you step in front of him and grab his lonely hand, “Come sit, Shanks. Mihawk brought your favorite while he was out.”

Shanks allows himself to be pulled to the table, and he sits, eyebrows shooting up when you follow him, sitting on his lap and leaning into his chest. Mihawk comes around and places a steaming cup of sweet chamomile beside the shallow bowl full of sake. You help yourself to your tea and then sit back again, head pillowed against The redhead’s pecs.

“Alright you two. What is this about?” Shanks rumbles, and he reaches for his sake, sipping most of it down in one go, “I'm being left out here.”

Dracule shares a look with his angel, and you look so excited that he dips his head, and you say, softer with a voice so full of affection that it makes Mihawk blush.

“Mihawk and I had sex.”

Shanks looks at Dracule and now realizes why the man had looked so smug earlier. In fact. He looked even more so now, those beautiful ringed eyes glowing with it. A slow smile begins to form, sharp white teeth gleaming in the light of your kitchen. His sake dish is sat down with a click that seems to echo in the room, and Shanks curls his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to grind his already hardening dick into the soft cheeks of your ass.

He presses his face against yours, lips finding your cheek, and Mihawk speaks up, making the grin on the Emperor’s lips grow, “It's only fair you have your turn, Red.”

-------------

“Suck my cock, treasure, and I'll give you exactly what you want,” Shanks orders, voice rough and dangerous. He grabs your chin with two fingers, pulling your mouth open, “I'll even help you out, Sweetheart. Stick out your tongue for me.”

Mihawk watches from where he sits in his armchair in the corner of the room. He sips his red wine, the alcohol staining his lips. His golden gaze never once leaves his two angels, and despite his cock hard and aching in his pants, he does not touch it.

You are hesitant to do as ordered, cheeks darkening, but you see the expectation lingering in his dark gaze. You do as ordered, jaw clicking as you stick your tongue out for him. You blush furiously when Shanks leans closer and opens his mouth, pink muscle lolling out and dribbling an obscene amount of saliva onto your tongue, “Don't swallow that.”

You breathe heavily through your nose, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, and focus on not gagging.

“Take my dick outta my pants, Baby,” Shanks instructs quietly and licks his lips, enjoying the way that you are struggling with his orders. Your hands are shaking when they land on his pants, you feel your way up to the elastic and then pull them down, whining when his cock slips out and smacks you in the cheek.

“Shanks,” Mihawk warns quietly from his corner. He had given his word that he wouldn't step in, but that wouldn't stop him from speaking up if he deemed the redhead being too rough.

“She's fine, Hawkeye. She can do it,” Shanks dismisses easily when he glances down to see a new light of determination in your eyes, “Right, sweetheart?”

Shanks moves your head down in a nod before tipping your face towards his length. He groans when you grab the base, and then you are leading his cock past your lips, tongue sliding wonderfully alongside the bottom of his shaft. You take him down to about halfway before you start to choke. Shanks is thicker than Mihawk, making your jaw ache already.

“Relax your throat, Angel,” Mihawk speaks up from his spot and you flick your eyes over to see him uncrossing his legs, and it gives you a good view of the tent in the seat of his pants.

You work to do as he says, glassy eyes closing as you concentrate on your task. Shanks slips another inch down, and then another until the tip of his cock slips past the muscles at the back of your mouth and into your throat. A muffled whine leaves you at the painful stretch and the ache in your jaw gets worse, but your free hand grabs the fabric of his pants to keep him from pulling away.

“Fuck, Treasure,” Shanks snarls lowly, and his hand find the back of your head, And he tangles his long fingers in your hair, “Doing so good for us, listening to Mihawk so well.”

The praise feels good, and you feel yourself growing wet, slick clinging to your exposed folds. You swallow around Shanks, sucking in a sharp break when he humps forward, pressing your face to his pelvis. You work your tongue along the bottom, and Shanks pulses in your mouth when you hollow your cheeks and suck as best you can being so stuffed full.

Spit and precum leak and bubble past your lips, and soon your tears mingle with the mess when the Emperor grows impatient with your slow pace. You can do nothing but relax your jaw and breathe through your nose as Shanks fucks your face. He moans and groans above you, the sounds that leave him are lewd, and listening to him has your cunt clenching longingly around nothing.

Dracule watches, golden eyes heavy lidded, and swirling with lust and want. He wants to step in. Wants to stand behind Shanks and wrap his hand around the base of his cock, and help the redhead paint you with his seed. His hands ache, and he occupies himself by playing with the stem of his wine glass.

Your eyes flutter, jaw on fire, and time seems lost to you. Shanks uses you for his own gain, seeking his pleasure until that coil snaps low in his stomach. The sound he makes is more animalistic than human, and you aren't expecting him to pull out so suddenly and angle your face up. You gasp when you feel the first splash of hot cum on your cheek, and quickly close your eyes when more rushes toward you.

Shanks never looks away, dark eyes full of adoration for you. You look beautiful like this, all painted up and dripping with his cum. He milks himself, not wanting any of it to go to waste. He presses the head of his cock to your lips, and you automatically open your mouth for him, “Clean me up, Sweetheart.”

You flush as you do as ordered, cleaning his softening member until nothing but your spit remains. Shanks watches with a smirk, and then glances over at Mihawk, expression turning greedy once more, and he crooks a finger at the other man, “Come clean her up, Baby I know you want to.”

Dracule licks his lips, tempted by the offer. He sets his glass aside and then stands to lope closer, taking in the delightful sight of you covered in the other man's semen. Mihawk leans down to help you stand, and then he takes your face in both hands, holding you still.

“Keep your eyes closed, Angel,” Mihawk murmurs, and then he is leaning in. The wet drag of his tongue makes you jump, and you hear the warlord hum at the taste of cooling cum. Dracule takes his time, hot tongue lapping at the cloudy fluid, until nothing remains. The act is lewd and intimate, and it's enough to have you whining and clutching at Dracule's loose shirt. When he is finished, Mihawk seals his lips to yours, and you moan at the taste of the wine and Shanks that still clings to his tongue.

Shanks moves behind you, hand sliding between your legs and fingertips finding your clit. He massages the sensitive nub, smirking when he hears a muffled moan leave you. He slides past your clit, calloused digits gliding through your folds and slicking them with your juices. He finds your entrance, and slides in one soaked finger to the knuckle.

“Can't believe that you let Mihawk fuck you without me here, Snowflake,” Shanks croons, tone full of disappointment, “Couldn't let me be here to watch him take you for the first time.

He slips another finger in beside the first, stroking and rubbing your velvety walls. Your hands tighten, nails digging into the thick muscles of Dracule's abdomen. Those skilled, sinful digits find your sweet spot, and Shanks proceeds to bully that spot, making you cry out and bow forward. The pleasure is immense, almost too much. His thumb catches your clit, and that heat winds and winds until it breaks and you gush all over his hand.

It's an embarrassing amount, but this isn't the first time that Shanks had shoved his fingers inside you this evening and ripped an orgasam from your body. Your body is overworked, cunt sore, and you are so glad that Mihawk is there to hold you up. His hands support you, and he pets your hair as he leans in to kiss the top of your head.

“Look at that. At least your body knows how to tell me how sorry it is for not letting me watch,” Shanks croons, tone still cruel, but the way he removes his fingers is nothing but gentle.

The Emperor gathers you close, and Mihawk steps away when he is sure that you are able to stand without help. Your legs still shake, tremors make your thighs gently jiggle, and it only gets worse when Shanks carefully leads you over to the bed and then bends you over the side of it. He shucks his pants off and kicks them to the side before draping himself over your sweat slick body.

“I'm going to fuck you now, okay, Sweetheart,” Shanks coos in your ear and nudges your legs apart, spreading you nicely for him. He takes his cock in hand, rubbing it though your puffy folds before he begins to push forward. You whine at the intrusion, walls stretching more than they are used to as Shanks presses in.

“Slower, Shanks,” Mihawk rumbles from his seat. His eyes track the way the other man's cock slips inside your heat.

For once, the redhead listens to the other man and slows to a crawl, Shanks doesn't want to hurt you, and he is thicker than the average man.

“She's like a vice, Mihawk,” Shanks grunts above you and sinks another two inches, and you feel like you're being split open for half a second before the pain bleeds into pleasure. The Emperor groans when he bottoms out, brow pressed to the middle of your back as he rocks back and forth. He is already so fucking close, having edged himself twice when you'd been on your knees, so Shanks knows that he isn't going to last long, but he will feel you come on his cock.

A shout tears out of your throat when your Emperor suddenly ruts forward, and pleasure zings up your spine at his brutal pace. His hand finds your hair, tangling in the stands and forcing your face down into the mattress.

“Gonna fill you up, baby,” Shanks snarls against your back, and his pace falters, going erratic. The tip of his cock drags against your sweet spot, and it sends you over once again, dragging Shanks with you.

Shanks swears as he comes, sinking his teeth into the meat of your shoulder blade, hips stuttering as he empties his load. He stays there for a long time, breathing in the scent of sweat and sex before he rises and carefully pulls out. You hiss at the feeling, feeling sticky and fucked out. You don't have the energy to say much of anything as Shanks lifts you the rest of the way onto the bed.

“You okay, baby?” Shanks murmurs, and you muster up enough willpower to nod before your turn to snuggle into the closest pillow. He smiles and gently strokes your hair, pushing it away from your face and admiring your tired beauty.

Mihawk stands, stepping behind Shanks and grabbing the edge of his loose gray shirt and pulling it up and off the other man. He pushes his redhead to the bed and then swiftly undresses himself. Now that Shanks had gotten his fill, Dracule was feeling just a little left out, and he intended to rectify that right now.

You open your eyes enough to see Mihawk pressing Shanks down, long fingers wrapped around the other man's tan throat. Interested, you roll to your side, grabbing the sheets and pulling them around you, a soft smile playing on your lips as you enjoy the show that your boys put on for you. You are noticed eventually and are dragged between them, but no one would ever find you complaining.

@writingmysanity @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @anastasiyax @jaguarthecat

[thesakuragarnet]

Distracted

Summary: Dabi attempts to remain calm during a work call when it's his turn to get ra!led.

THIS WORK IS 18+ ONLY! S3XUAL TAGS WILL BE HIDDEN BELOW THE KEEP READING BUTTON!

Non-Spicy Tags: DabiHawks, swearing, smut, pre-paranormal liberation war arc, they're in love I promise

Word Count: 1,302 words

AO3 link

Spicy Tags: switch DabiHawks, brat b0ttom Dabi, praise k!nk, a n a l s3x, n!pple licking, aftercare

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Lieutenant Dabi? Are you still there?” Skeptic’s grating voice crackles through the phone next to Dabi’s head. He got excused from going to the meeting because he said he wasn’t feeling well. In reality, a certain Pro Hero was fucking every thought out of his head. It was kinda funny to him in a way; Hero Society was metaphorically and literally screwing him. He and Hawks had been seeing each other shortly after he joined their cause, and Dabi was utterly addicted to the rush of love that had been absent for so long. He never realized how much he ached for it. How much he needed it. 

They’d been going at it since before the meeting started, and the edging was insane . Dabi forced Hawks to stop every time they needed him to talk; he was worried they might get suspicious. 

“Fuck,” Dabi groans, breath hissing through gritted teeth as Hawks slows his thrusts to a stop once again; the villain attempts to collect his bearings before unmuting himself on the call. 

“Yes, I’m still here. What do you want?” He scoffs, hoping he isn’t as breathless as he feels. He thanks his lucky stars that they hadn’t decided on a video call. His clothes had long been ripped off by a slew of feathers, and his legs are splayed out on either side of the Hero. Hawks’ eyes narrow; he’s getting impatient. 

“You and Geten are to start training your Regiment together twice a day for the rest of the month. Have you decided on times yet?” Skeptic snaps. 

“Whatever the ice bastard wa- aants ,” Dabi grumbles before the last word almost turns into a moan as Hawks leans forward, sucking on his unburned nipple. Dabi’s pleasure turns to aggravation as he smacks Hawks’ head, trying to get him to stop. 

“This is a trap. He’s gonna bitch about whatever time I pick,” Geten shrills. Hawks traces his tongue over the sensitive flesh, and Dabi flexes his fingers, gripping the sheets. 

“Don’t. Care,” Dabi grunts, desperately trying to keep his cool. His eyes roll into the back of his head as Keigo slowly starts thrusting, keeping his movements shallow enough to not make any noise. Before Dabi can gasp, Hawks clasps a hand over his mouth. 

“How about nine and nine?” Hawks’ syrupy sweet voice lilts into the phone. 

“That works,” Geten snorts. 

“Wait. Wait, is Bird Boy on the call? I didn’t think he was supposed to b-” Skeptic’s voice crackles before Hawks hangs up the phone. Dabi’s gaze darkens. 

“Relax, princess. You were too distracted,” Hawks sneers, only for Dabi to bite his hand harshly. 

“FUCK!” Hawks seethes, reeling his hand back in pain. 

“That’s for embarrassing me,” Dabi retorts with a devilish smirk.

“You seem to not have a problem being on call when you’re the one buried in me . What’s wrong Dabs? Don’t want the other villains to know you just wanna be held and taken care of?” Hawks snickers mockingly, and his lover’s eyes narrow. 

“Say that again and you won’t get the privilege ,” Dabi snarls, his eyes glowing with a malicious glint. However, his harsh gaze melts into pure bliss as the hero starts rocking his hips. 

“ There’s that beautiful expression I love seeing,” Hawks grins, and Dabi ignores him, dissolving in the pleasure. The low, raspy moans gradually pitch higher and higher, turning into choked whimpers as Hawks thrusts faster and deeper. 

“Fuck me. God , yes. Don’t stop,” Dabi wails repetitively, feeling the fire prickle beneath his skin as his lover starts planting deep, tender kisses along his scars, feathers gently brushing against his entire body. 

“You’re so pretty when you beg, princess,” Hawks groans before hungrily pressing his lips to Dabi’s. The villain moans lewdly into the kiss, his tongue desperately prodding until it intertwines with the hero’s. Hawks gets more aggressive, thrusting faster and faster as his hands grab Dabi’s wrists, forcing them together and above his head. Dabi doesn’t even resist; normally, he would playfully struggle and make Hawks work for it, but he’s too far gone. The hero breaks the sloppy kiss, a strand of saliva connecting their lips as he watches his lover's eyes roll back into his head. The thin space of unburned flesh between the scars on his jaw and eyes is painted with a passionate blush, and he can feel the heat surging beneath the villain's skin. Hawks never thought he'd have such a chokehold on Dabi of all people. All it took was one drunken night, and he'd spilled how much he wanted this. All it took were Hawks' thinly veiled words of praise, and Dabi was putty in his hands. 

"H-Ha-Hawks~" The shattered moan leaves Dabi's lips between heavy breaths as his cock throbs, bouncing up and down and dripping pre on his stomach with every jolt of his body. His eyes lock onto the hero's, pleading...begging. 

"What do you want, princess?" Hawks smirks, swallowing a groan of pleasure. Dabi wants so desperately to say 'stop fucking calling me that', but he doubts he could manage it without whimpering between thrusts. Dabi's eyes look up at his wrists, held firmly in place above his head, then down at his untouched cock. He doesn't want to give Hawks the satisfaction of asking to touch himself, but, at the same time, he needs to be given permission. He could easily break free of the hold if he wanted to, but it's not that simple. Not in this state. Not in this context. Hawks bites his bottom lip, as if mockingly pondering whether or not he should allow it.

"I said you weren't allowed to touch yourself, didn't I?" Hawks sneers, and Dabi grits his teeth. Without warning, he pulls out and flares his wings. Feathers shoot through the air, swirling around Dabi and forcing him to flip around on his stomach. The villain yelps as he feels Hawks' talons sink into his hips, jerking his ass into the air as he plunges into it. Before Dabi can take a breath, Hawks' feathers curl up underneath him, rising up and pulling him flush against his back while one of his hands snakes around his cock. 

"Ah, fuck," Dabi sighs loudly, Hawks' name dripping from his lips like honey. 

"You're fucking insatiable, Dabs," Hawks growls, licking the scars on the villain's neck. 

"Close," Dabi gasps, feeling his orgasm stir in the pit of his stomach. 

"Not yet," Hawks commands, pounding deeper and deeper, shifting his angle to brush against his lover's prostate. Dabi's breath staggers, and he dissolves into choked whimpers as he tries to keep control. 

"Can't~ah~hold~AH!" Dabi's moans pitch higher and higher, his eyelids fluttering as his tongue lolls out of his mouth. With a final, harsh series of rapid thrusts, Hawks groans under his breath as he empties into Dabi. The Hero continues to deliberately pump his hand up and down, and the scarred villain comes completely undone. The air is thick with the smell and heat of sex, and they both collapse as they separate.  

"Worth skipping that lame meeting, huh?" Hawks huffs with a cocky grin between deep breaths. 

"Fuck you," The villain growls, pulling his shaking legs up close to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. 

"Damn, babe. Still bratty even in the afterglow?" Hawks sighs, rolling his eyes as he gently drapes a wing over Dabi, forcibly pulling him closer. Reluctantly, the villain obliges, nudging himself into the crook of Hawks' arm and burying his face between the hero's pecs.

"If I get asked about that phone call I'm gonna fucking brand you," Dabi mumbles, and Keigo just chuckles, tracing his fingertips along the scar lines on his back. 

"Whatever you say, hothead," He yawns as they fall asleep in each other's arms. 

[keigo-takamis-no-1-simp]

Ｈａｗｋｓ Ｘ Ｒｅａｄｅｒ - Ｌｅａｒｎｉｎｇ ｔｏ ｌｏｖｅ: Ｉ＇ｍ Ｓｏ Ｓｏｒｒｙ

TW/CW: Mentions/depictions of abuse/neglect, Mentions of SA, Depictions of a panic attack, Mentions of miscarriage

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Hawks x Reader

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: You're not just sick... there's something much darker than that lurking under the surface. Yet, the hospital Keigo takes you too seems way too familiar for your own comfort...

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: Angst with comfort (Primarily angst here- you've been warned)

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2778 

𝚃𝚊𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @marydragneell, @numblytemporary, @rainycloud858

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙾𝚗𝚎 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚃𝚠𝚘 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚂𝚒𝚡

When Atsuki called Keigo to ask him for a favor, he was surprised. After all, he worked with him maybe once or twice. But the sort of panic in his voice, and how he spoke about you- he couldn’t say no. Atuski was a good kid, and had a bright future ahead of him. 

You did too, even if you couldn’t see it. 

Besides, after that little accidental date, it was hard not to think about you. You were stunning aesthetically, but you were also kind. Funny, witty- and you had a gentle soul. Yet… you were adverse to touch. He picked up on that quickly once you’d tensed- and the scent of cortisol was overwhelming. 

Now, here you were, sick with something and clearly more than a little delirious. And he can’t touch you. Nervous trills and clicks leave his throat as he waits for Shouta to call him back with Eri’s recommendations. She’s become a healthcare worker, something Shouta heavily praised and supported her throughout. Hell Keigo hardly knew the kid and was proud. 

But right now, you seriously need to cool off. “Dove, you’re really warm…” He murmurs, clicking his tongue again in thought. A feather retrieves a damp, cool washcloth. He carefully lays it across your forehead, and you let out a soft sigh of relief. Something comes from your lips.

“... ‘m ok, really, just tired..” You try, sitting up slowly. You sway ever so slightly, swallowing hard. His brows furrow as he watches you. 

“Mmm, I think you’re sicker than you’re letting on,” He teases a bit, though there’s no bite to his tone at all. 

“... no time to lay down..” You murmur, trying to sit up more- and a few feathers gently push you back into bed to ensure the rag doesn’t fall from your forehead. 

“Listen, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way- but you look awful. Just let me help you a bit, yeah?” He hums, though some part of his weird bird brain is going haywire. He needs to help you feel better. He needs to fix this. He can fix a lot of things, like dislocations, dressing wounds, helping someone calm down- but he can’t just fix this. 

He feels almost useless. Almost. 

“... sorry..” You murmur, slumping against him- then jerking away. Touch clearly was still difficult, despite the fever and god knows what else. 

“Kid, please,” He whispers. It physically pained him to see you like this- you reminded him of someone he used to know, someone he used to love. He couldn’t do anything back then… but he’s sure as hell determined to do something now. 

You groan shifting to get up again- but you stumble into the bathroom. You kneel over the toilet, and start to vomit. He winces at the sound, wings twitching with discomfort. 

He steps in after you, unbothered by the scent. When you’ve met someone who literally smells like burning hair and flesh, vomit isn’t a big deal. He pulls your hair back- and while he wants to try and comfort you, touch is a big no no still. 

Coughing and sputtering, you lean on the toilet heavily. It’s pure bile. You sit there, dry heaving, with bits of bile occasionally coming up. It HURTS, your abdominal muscles clenching and shuddering. Finally, once it stops, you take in a shaky breath and speak.

 "I- I’m fine, I swear," you murmur, and he balks.

"Fine, my ass! You just threw up everything in your stomach and then proceeded to dry heave for the next five minutes!" When you wince, he sighs. 

“... ‘m sorry..” You murmur, eyes fluttering as you place your forehead on the rim of the toilet. The cool porcelain feels amazing against your flushed face. He frowns, tilting his head. 

“For what..? You can’t control getting sick..” he murmurs, brows pinching together. 

“... all of this..” You murmur. Then, it hits him. You’re delirious and dehydrated to all hell. A feather shoots off to get a water bottle- anything, really. Upon bringing it back, he shakes his head. 

“Don’t be… I need you to try and drink some of this for me, do you think you  can do that?” He carefully brushes your hair out of your face, not touching your skin. You hum, leaning back. 

He unscrews the lid, gently tipping it to where the water will slowly enter your mouth. As you begin to drink, he can’t stop the cooing noises that escape him. “There we go, good girl..” He hums, and you seem to like that somewhat. 

He gives you a moment, a soft smile on his lips. “You’re doing so good, Dove… I’m sorry you’re sick, but ‘s ok. I gotcha.” He hums, and as you try to murmur another apology, he tuts lightly. 

“None of that.” You shift, looking up at him with bleary eyes. He gives you a small smile. Your eyes flutter shut, and you wobble slightly. Your face pales, and his follows suit. “H-hey-” He tries, but it’s too late. You’re out cold. Before your head can hit the ground, he’s got you. 

“Fucking- Shit-” He curses, wings flapping in annoyance. A trill escapes his throat again. “Fuck all of this, we’re going to a hospital.” 

He picks you up bridal style, and you whimper. His eyes shift to you, and you’re trying to adjust in his grasp. He lets you make yourself somewhat comfortable, then uses his feathers to get a jacket to cover you. He can deal with chilly weather- but in your condition, he’s worried it could kill you. 

His feathers open his balcony doors, and he crouches- before shooting up into the air. As he glides through the air at breakneck speed, he can’t help but wonder what sort of expression you’d have if you were conscious. Were you afraid of heights? Or would you love this..?

A theory to test later, perhaps. 

He lands on the roof of a private hospital. The last thing either of you need is the press up your ass. 

Feathers open the double doors, and he heads inside. The first nurse he sees takes one look at them, and she pales. “Mr. Hawks, what-” 

“Something’s wrong. She’s sick, I know that much, but it doesn’t- somethings wrong.” He trills, wings fluffed and flapping a little. Your heart rate is too slow, your scent told him you were sick, you were vomiting- and you passed out. “Please,” He pleads, and that seems to snap her out of her stupor. 

She pulls out what looks like a small phone, and begins to talk into it. A few more nurses rush down the hall, immediately taking vitals and putting in an IV. Someone’s ordering fluids, someone else is ordering labs- it’s a sudden rush of people. All to take care of you. 

In the pure chaos, He keeps a feather wrapped around your wrist to know where you are. How you’re doing. His anxiety isn’t exactly quelled by the fact these nurses were attaching oxygen to you and running the line under your nose. 

“How are you related to the patient?” One of the nurses suddenly approaches him, and he’s ripped from his thoughts. Shit- he’d have to come up with something convincing 

“Her boyfriend. What’s going on?” The shouting and blur of people rushing around him is almost overwhelming. The nurse takes a moment to respond. 

“I’m sorry to inform you… your girlfriend has had a miscarriage. She was barely more than 5 or 6 weeks along.” His blood runs ice cold. 

You were pregnant… with what could only be presumed to be your ex’s child. His fists clench at his sides, and he finds himself asking the question he dreaded most before he can stop himself. “Do you… do you know what caused it?” He grits his teeth. The answer he got was worse than what he assumed. 

“Blunt force trauma, likely due to abuse. Her body- she’s lost a lot of blood, and due to how recent the loss is, her body is going into shock triggered by her illness.” For a moment, the world stops. There’s no longer people rushing around him, no longer a gurney with someone he swears he knows- just… a sense of loss. 

“She had a child..?” Is all he can murmur out. From what he could tell, your ex was a piece of work. You probably didn’t even know about the pregnancy in the first place- fuck, was it one you even wanted? Thoughts race through his mind faster than he could even consider flying. 

Your ex had knocked you up, dumped you- and because of what he can only assume to be abuse, you lost the kid. 

You lost a piece of yourself. And you didn’t even know. 

He’s snapped out of his own mind by someone placing a hand on his arm. He jerks away out of instinct, and a nurse holds up her hands in a defensive position. His amber gaze softens, and both his wings and shoulders slump. “We’ve got her stabilized. Fluids, a blood transfusion, oxygen and antibiotics. She’ll be ok,” The nurse gives him a small smile. 

“... thank you,” His voice is almost hoarse, and he dips his head in thanks. She nods, glancing down the hall. 

“Room 607- We aren’t sure when she’ll wake up, but she’s just resting. Everything came back either good, or as an easy fix.” He nods again, eyes flicking back up to the hall. 

Without another word, he strides forward. Here, he has to put on that stupid hero persona. Like the person he went on a date with at least 12 hours ago wasn’t in the hospital. Like he didn’t learn they had a miscarriage because of their ex. Like he didn’t know them at all. 

Absolute bullshit. 

He knocks on the door a bit, then peeks through the small opening. You’re hooked up to several different IV lines, oxygen, and something to sense your vitals. Keigo is careful, not wanting to awaken you too prematurely. You looked exhausted, and… 

You were beautiful when you slept. 

The tubes and wires didn’t take away from that. Even now, with bags of blood and saline pumping into you, you looked at utter peace. It was oddly comforting, despite everything that’s happened. One of his hands carefully reaches forward, as if even the slightest mistake would awaken you. 

His fingers brush some of the hair away from your face, and a soft, almost depressing coo leaves his chest. You looked so much like them.. 

He pulls his hand away. No, you were different. You weren’t the kid he fell in love with all those years ago. They were dead, long gone, lost to time. 

He sighs, running a calloused hand down his face. “Fuck…” he murmurs, glancing back over at you. 

Your hair frames your face so nicely, with the way it has settled. Your body, now somewhat exposed… despite the bruises he could now see, was flawless in his eyes. Every little mark had a story, he could assume. He found himself studying your sleeping form as if you were a work of art. 

In some ways, he supposed you were. 

The moment your eyes open, he almost reaches for your hand- but refrains himself. You didn’t like being touched. Being unconscious and needing to go to the hospital, that’s one thing. Unless you ok’d it or it was an emergency, he wouldn’t touch you. 

“Kei.. go…?” Your words, after literally passing out on his bathroom floor- well, no it makes sense that it’s his name. You probably didn’t want to wake up in some random white room with a stranger. 

“Hey, hey.. ‘m right here,” he gives you a soft smile, hand next to yours- just close enough that, if you wanted, you could take it. Your bleary eyes meet his, and after a few moments pass, they widen with panic. 

They dart around, taking everything in and- there���s fear written all over your face. In your eyes, your scent- his wings twitch a bit, which catches your attention. He trills in distress, body begging to soothe you, but he can’t. He can’t touch you. 

“Dove, hey, please, look at me, yeah?” He coos, and when your eyes shift to his, he smiles a little. “There she is… you’re ok, pretty girl. You passed out, and your heart rate felt funny, so I wanted to just get it looked at.” 

Your eyes trail to the blood, the saline, and antibiotics. When your brows furrow, he takes a deep breath. Then, the hardest words he’s had to say in a long time push past his lips. 

“They… the doctors said you had a miscarriage. I’m… I’m so sorry, [Name]...”

His words carve into your chest, squeezing your heart until it’s about to burst. “I… what..?” Your words are barely even there. It hurts to talk, hurts to breathe, and the room feels just a little too small suddenly. 

Miscarraige. 

You’d been pregnant. 

You’d been pregnant with the kid of the man- no, the monster- that held you in an iron grip for over 3 years. 

Your chest is caving in on itself, and you claw at it. Sitting up, you can faintly register the feeling of tubes against your skin. 

He killed his own child, inside of you. You hadn’t even known you’d been pregnant- your eyes widen. 

You can faintly remember bits and pieces of that night. Your chest tightens impossibly more, and you can’t breathe. Your lungs aren’t working right, and the room is spinning. 

You were pregnant. 

He assaulted you, and you got pregnant because of it. 

When a hand comes to wave in front of your face, you slap it, shooting back into bed. “Don’t- d-don’t fucking touch me-” you snarl, eyes darting around the room. You needed out. You had to get out. 

You had to breathe. 

The faint noise of machines beeping and people subsequently flooding into the room only made you panic more. You couldn’t even cry, or mourn the loss of something you could’ve had. 

Did you even want it?

That thought disgusted you. It wasn’t an it, it- it was a person, it.. You slowly come down from your heightened state, looking down at your stomach. You tentatively place a hand on it. 

You… lost the child, because you’d pissed him off. 

It’s your fault. 

“[Name]?” Keigo’s soft voice breaks through your thoughts. Your eyes slowly trail up to meet his. When you speak, there’s something missing from your voice. You can hear it, even though you can’t place what it is. 

“I… this is my fault, I pissed him off, and..” You murmur, and he immediately shakes his head, trilling and clicking sounds coming from him. The medical staff, seemingly placated by your now calm state, began to filter out. One of them shows Keigo where the nurses button is, in case you need something.

“No, no it isn’t- you didn’t ask to be pregnant, and- you sure as hell didn’t ask to lose the kid…” There’s a gentleness to his voice you hadn’t quite registered before. Your head slowly felt less like there was cotton stuffed inside of it, and instead like a jackhammer was splitting it apart. 

You’ve been in the hospital before- specifically this one. But why? For what?

“I.. I’ve been here before-” You whisper, brows twitching together. His head cocks to the side. 

“It’s… a well known hospital,” He tries, but you shake your head. 

“No, I- I had procedures done. I can’t remember what they were, but-” You’re cut off with a coughing fit. Your throat hurts like hell, but- you need to get your thoughts out. 

“Fuck- I can’t- why can’t I just-” You murmur, frustration leaking into your tone. 

“[Name], hold on a sec- you just passed out, you’re sick as shit, and literally had a miscarriage- I’d be concerned if there wasn’t something weird going on in your head.” He teases a little, though genuine concern is audible in his tone. 

“Take a deep breath. Talk to me.” 

You pause, taking in his suggestion. After a deep breath, you felt… a little better. You purse your lips, and speak again. 

“... my mom brought me here when I was little to get something done. I can’t remember much around that time, other than that…” You murmur. His head tilts. 

“I’m sure we could ask for your chart, look at your history?” He offers, and you nod. 

“Y-yeah, that’s… that’s a good idea..” You can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right. But… while your mother wasn’t great, it’s not like she’d hurt you, right..? 

Right…?

[werewolfnightwalker]

Dabihawks Lovechild Fluff

Because I haven't posted one in a while. Ft. my lovechild, Tenshi.

-----

Hawks has a rare day off, where he could do anything he liked, where he could relax.

Never one to sit idle, though, Hawks decides to do a Livestream Q&A for his fans in his living room. He's dressed casually, in his PJs, even, and has a mug of coffee when the steam starts.

It's slow in the beginning, and he greets the first handful as he sips his coffee, waiting for a decent crowd before explaining that he's just bored, this is basically a casual Ask Me Anything. After a pause, comments start coming in.

"What's your favorite food?" Come on, Hawksgoldenpubes3, you should know that. It's fried chicken!" He laughs.

"Is it true you have bird feet?" You know how much I wish I had bird feet? I'm- stop spamming "feet reveal," it's not happening."

"What's your favorite color?" Oh, easy. It's cyan, same as my hubby's eyes. ... Husband reveal? Yeah, okay. He'll wander out here eventually, it's not even nine though."

"Favorite hobby?" Hm... Does taking my eyas for ice cream count? We go get ice cream and go to the park at least twice a week, it's what I- eyas? Oh, that's my chick's nickname. He'll wander out here soon, too. He's like his Da, he's a late sleeper."

The questions go on and on, and Hawks just kicks back, sips his coffee, and answers them as his stream amasses thousands of viewers.

Finally, around eleven, a figure shambles into the background, and Hawks turns around.

"Hi, firefly!"

"Mngh. Hi, pigeon. You eat yet?" Touya yawns, shuffling up to the couch and slumping over the back to wrap his arms around him.

"Nope, I've got my coffee."

"Coffee is not breakfast, birdbrain. I'm making french toast."

"Okay." Hawks laughs, "Say hi to my viewers, first!"

Touya raises his head and spots the camera. "Oh- uh, hi." He stands up, embarrassed, and quickly walks into the background, towards the kitchen.

Hawks looks back at the chat and laughs. "Yup, that's husband. His name is Touya- yes I know he's pretty, that's why I married him. Well, that, and the fact that I love him. ... Yes, that's very gay. Anyway, more questions!"

"How big is his-" I'm not answering that. Big."

"What does he do?" He's a stay-at-home dad." Hawks smiles, "He does the cooking, the cleaning, he makes sure Tenshi gets to school on time- he helps me keep my life together, which is another reason I married him."

Close to eleven thirty, a much smaller figure, dressed in a penguin onesie, shuffles into the room. "I smell french toast." Tenshi exclaims.

"Da's cooking, eyas." Hawks calls, his wings flaring and flapping happily as he reaches for his kid, "Come here, come say hi to my fans." He urges.

Tenshi wanders over and looks at the chat, his eyes widening. "Hi!" He chirps, golden wings fluffing.

Hawks grins as the chat fills with "hello!"s and "Hi, Tenshi!"s and "he's so cute!!!!"s.

"You wanna answer some questions, baby bird?"

"Sure!" Tenshi beams, so Hawks pulls him into his lap and squints at the screen.

"Okay, someone asked, "what's your favorite subject in school?"" Hawks reads for him.

"I like music class!" Tenshi says proudly.

"Yeah? Why's that?" Hawks prompts.

Tenshi hesitates, before he giggles shyly and wraps his wings around himself, trying to hide. "Because that's the class I have with Kutsuki! He's my best friend." He says, tan cheeks turning pink.

Hawks chuckles and looks at the camera knowingly, before he looks at the chat again. "Let's see... "Tenshi, who's your favorite dad?"" He looks down at his son, an eyebrow raised.

"Da!" Tenshi announces without hesitation, before he reaches up and wraps his arms around Hawks' neck, "But you're my favorite papa!" He adds.

"Nice save." Hawks teases, kissing his crimson hair.

"Hey, birdies, breakfast!" Touya calls from the kitchen.

"Okay, one more question and then I'm going to pause the stream while we go eat." Hawks announces, "One last Q for Ten, lessee... "Tenshi, what do you want to be when you grow-?""

"A hero!" Tenshi yells before Hawks can finish, "I'm gonna be a hero, just like my papa, and I'm gonna be the next number one, too!" He puffs his wings and chest up, beaming.

"Number one? But I thought you wanted to be my sidekick." Hawks frowns, his wings drooping, too.

Tenshi pouts, turning to tuck his face into his papa's neck. "I'll always be your sidekick, Papa, but I'm gonna be number one, too! Then you can have more days off for us to go to the park!" He explains earnestly.

The chat is live to see Hawks' heart melt in real time, tears shimmering in his eyes for a moment as he scoops up his chick and peppers his face with kisses.

"You're! So! Freaking! Cute!" He exclaims between kisses, until Tenshi is shrieking with laughter. Hawks laughs, too, but it sounds more like a teary hiccup.

Finally, he puts Tenshi down and wipes his eyes. "Ah, okay. Go get your breakfast, eyas, I'll be right there." He says, clearing his throat.

"Okie dokie. Bye, people." Tenshi flashes the camera a peace sign and wanders off.

Hawks watches him go, before he looks at the chat. "Okay, well, I'm gonna go eat, too. Might turn this back on later, but-" He pauses as he reads some of the responses. "No, you cannot have him, that's my baby bird." He pouts, "And you can't have my husband, either!" He laughs, "Okay, bye, baby birds!"

The stream cuts out, and Keigo gets up, heading towards the kitchen to join his partner and son for breakfast.

Later, he'll forget to turn the stream back on, and take Tenshi to the park to play with Kutsuki instead. They'll get lunch, before doing some shopping and getting ice cream. Finally, they'll come home in time for Keigo to help Touya make dinner, make sure Tenshi has a bath, and then settle on the couch with Touya for one-on-one time and a movie.

He's never one to sit idle on his days off. Not when they're what he looks forward to the most.

//End. Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, consider leaving me a tip!

[prussianbluepuppy]

✨What up it’s Wing AU 🦅✨

Ghoap HCs

Simon, who was born with blond feathers, going through all that trauma and stress until his wings turn white. Unsettling but adds to the image of being Ghost. Covers them in ash and soot for stealth ops. Has become eerily good at keeping his wings still on base to not drop dark dust in a trail on the floor.

Johnny, who has naturally dark wings that Ghost is definitely not jealous of, by contrast is always fidgeting his wings. If he wasn’t so expressive in the face you can read his mood by his wings. It makes his joints ache to ponder how Ghost keeps his wings so still.

Soap, who understands but is no less appalled Ghost covers his wings in black powder and does the bare minimum to preen them after the op.

Dad!Price is real, and he’s the only one Ghost will consider letting help preen his wings. That is, until Price is away doing recon when Ghost and Soap return from a weeks long mission, and Simon’s wings are in a sorry state and he’s exhausted, cleaning them will take hours and—and Soap offers. Genuine and without even the notion of holding it over Ghost’s head. He accepts; he regrets doing so the first few minutes when he keeps flinching and looking over his shoulder for an enemy that Soap isn’t. Soap is patient, though, minding whatever boundaries Ghost seems to have and after a while something must click because the tension just bleeds out of Ghost’s shoulders.

Price begins to notice after a while Simon hasn’t asked him for help in a couple months but his wings are looking quite tidy these days.

It’s a happy, albeit quiet, revelation for Price and Soap when the white feathers slowly molt out, and Ghost’s wings turn sandy blond.

Johnny loves doing silly things with molted feathers, like use them for bunny ears, or a mustache.

Ghost about had a heart attack after nobody noticed in the chaos of a mission Soap had broke several blood feathers and the man passed out in the chopper back to base, not immediately evident he hadn’t been shot.

Soap, who drops his wings in the field when they aren’t immediately needed to keep them from being targets. Ghost, who fans his out to make himself even bigger and give Soap cover, which would stress Soap out if he knew

General

Price does not at first lean into being the team Dad, but eventually accepts his fate. Sometimes when the boys need cheering up he’ll drape a wing over their heads; sometimes to mess their hair up when they push it off, sometimes to let the curtain of feathers be a buffer if they need to hide in his shoulder for a sec. Ghost only gets the dad wing when he’s sitting down, he’s too tall. He’ll lean into Price’s side for a sec tho, take a breath that smells like cigars and spicy aftershave and feel a little better.

Price has owl-type wings; silent, fluffy, heavy, and can do that thing owls do to look twice as big. Has done it to shield Gaz in the field.

Shepherd has turkey-type wings. Domestic turkey-type wings. Being called Eagle is denial in the shape of a patriotic ego-boost.

Graves has Red-tailed hawk-type wings.

Alejandro and Rodolfo both have eagle-type wings, albeit different colors, and it pisses Graves off they’re so cool.

König has ridiculous, hilariously large swallow-type wings. They make him super agile for his size in the sky, but doors are a bit of a hurtle.

Gaz and Soap will make bets on flying stunts when they are drunk and then vehemently deny that’s why they’re hurt the next day despite everyone seeing them do said stunts.

Gaz has fallen asleep under the Dad Wing.

Laswell uses her wings as a lap blanket during meetings. She eventually shows the men how to fold them to sit on their laps and then just about every briefing has professionally trained soldiers paying wrapt attention, wings in their laps keeping their hands warm.

“Good job Flock, return to Nest.” “Copy, RV with the helo?” “Affirmative, my wings are killing me; let that bird do the flying.”

[mettywiththenotes]

Okay okay okay

So Hawks clearly isn’t giving up, right? He’s just not. That’s not who he is, so of course he’s going to keep fighting. With the panel of Hawks holding the sword, with the sounds of the Twice rampage in the background, it really seems like he’s not going to go down that easy

Hawks saw “Twice” come out of the portal and his reaction was this

Total panic, right? He killed Twice for a reason - to prevent mass destruction from happening because, knowing Twice’s quirk and what side he was on (what side he was sticking to), he knew how chaotic the war could get. So seeing Twice come back? You can see the panic inside of him. This is not what he wants. We know he’s willing to kill “Twice” again

Fast forward to this chapter

All other threats are gone. AFO is gone. There are no Villains or Noumu in front of him. Dabi has been taken care of. Yet Hawks still stands because there’s one more Villain that hasn’t been taken care of, and that’s “Twice”/Toga

While we could say he’s only standing here to protect Tokoyami from the oncoming Twice’s that will surely attack them once they spread further, there’s no way he’s not going to be involved with the Twice clones anyway. And I don’t think Hawks would just stand there and wait for someone to take down Toga - he’d probably try to do it himself

So I think there’s a possibility that Hawks could go after Toga and try to kill her before the clones can spread further. I also think there’s evidence to Hawks joining the fight and attempting to repeat history

Hawks has already been through killing Twice. There’s a chance he’s willing to do it again based on the fact that he’s done it before. Something along the lines of “I’ve done it once, I can do it again. Only I will bear the burden of it”. It’s not farfetched at all for Hawks to do so because he wants to spare anyone else from having to kill. “I am willing to be corrupted” and all that

(He’s probably ready to face Twice, to deal with the image of taking him down again, but could he do the same with Toga? With the reality that he wouldn’t just be taking down the image of Twice, but a young girl too?)

Also, the narration says that the Heroes cannot falter

Who’s someone who won’t falter, no matter what the task? Who is willing to corrupt himself, willing to cover himself in blood for a brighter future? Hawks. I feel that the text is practically calling his name for him to enter. Also, the Todoroki’s are out for the count, Iida looks like he’s done too. The only Hero shown here willing to stand up and not falter is Hawks

There’s evidence for this Toga-Ochako fight paralleling with the Twice-Hawks fight

Firstly, Toga is on Twice’s side. She is quite literally Twice in this parallel. Someone who looks like him right now, someone who activated Sad Man’s Parade, someone who has shown care for members of the League in these moments

Someone who, as chocolate-biscuit has pointed out here, has the same hole in her mask just like Twice did

And what does this fight also have in common with the Raid one? A third person is shown ready to fight

Dabi was the only one shown running towards the fight, and Hawks is the only one shown so far who is actually up and still willing to fight

The red sparrow dream

That dream has always reminded me of Hawks, because of the specificity of the animal. It’s not just a bird, it’s a red bird. Red like Hawks’ wings. We know Hawks doesn’t have his wings right now, but also notice that the wings aren’t important to the dream - the type of bird is mentioned specifically, but the bird specifically uses its feet and its beak. Also notice that birds can represent the freedom to fly away, to escape, but this bird doesn’t use its wings and do that. Instead, it chooses to stay and inflict harm

I know this may just be a small coincidental thing, but still, I think there’s a potential for it to be connected to Hawks somehow

Finally, Horikoshi has said Ochako and Hawks are both “beacons of hope” in the final war arc. Hawks, who didn’t give up fighting against AFO and protected Tokoyami from getting his quirk stolen, and still refuses to lay down. Ochako, who won’t give up on Toga. She wants to save people from the Villains and the war but she can’t ignore a Villain’s cries either

How interesting would it be if we had both “beacons of hope” clash in their fights to protect and save people?

Of course, this is only a possibility, though I think it does have the potential to happen. I would personally love to see Hori dive into Hawks’ character involving Twice again, and putting him up close and personal with someone Ochako wants to save would be so interesting to watch

But, let’s remember that I’m theorizing based on 2 panels of Hawks lol. We’ll have to see what happens next, but again, it’d be really cool to see them all come together this way and fight against ideals and saving vs killing

[icyowl]

I Can't Fly So We'll Drown

Pairing: Hawks x reader ft. a bit of avian!hawks

Request: none

Synopsis: Hawks saves you but nearly drowns because birds can’t fly when wet. 3k. Previously titled Freezing Rain Feathered Chains

A/N: This is not proofread. Typos are to be expected.

-- -- -- -- -- --

Your thoughts were decidedly unremarkable when facing your death. No mentions of family or friends, not of your boyfriend, not of missed opportunities or dreams never fulfilled. No regrets and no thoughts of the circumstances that led to your unfortunate situation.

Pain, and trying to stop that pain, were the only synapses firing in an otherwise empty brain. One good thing had happened since you’d been cast into the river: you’d managed to escape your sinking car. Bad news? There was more water than air in your lungs and the surface of the river was several feet above you. You had fought, you really had, but cold and clothing had robbed you of mobility and a dense fog had replaced normal thought.

Of course, you tried to live. For minutes you had struggled before you couldn't break the sloshing water's surface any longer. Hero. You needed just one — fuck he didn't even need a quirk! Just a hand and a good heart.

Now all your body felt was one thing: air. Need air.

Your lungs kicked and lurched in a final fight to create air from nothing. The savage burning from your chest spread to every bit of sinew. It was powerful enough even to block out the agony of the near-zero water temperatures. Were you still struggling? Who really knew. Fangs -- numerous, excruciating -- drug you down further away from the life continuing on above you.

Somehow the pain grew impossibly worse when your lungs decided to inhale on their own, pouring more water down your throat.

From above the water Hawks spotted your car on his fly-by, seeing it submerged up to the taillights, proving with one glance at the license plate that it belonged to you. Had you tread water for just a bit longer, he'd be able to see you before the harsh river current towed you hundreds of feet down the river and eventually to its bottom.

Silt gradually began to settle around you. The soil over your grave, if you will.

Hawks knew the repercussions of his actions when he dove straight down into that same wintry water: birds can't fly when wet. Species with special oils were an exception he was not apart of. He was human enough to be in danger, and different enough to feel disadvantaged because of his quirk.

And yet Hawks didn't hesitate.

First attempt: unsuccessful. His eyes burned under the water's pollution, and it was far too murky to peer through even with his avian powers of sight. Self-preservation forced him back to the surface for oxygen even when his brain screamed that you were still down there. Again, he tried. As much as it takes.

Second: no luck. He should have thrown at least his jacket off — it was weighing him down, dragging in the current this way and that. His wings rotated in the waves, trying to manage the tumultuous tide of water threatening to steer him off course. When he surfaced he called your name again, looking for a bit of hair or debris to help him. Thousands of gallons of liquid swept by, impossible to stop or sift through. Further. You had to be further downriver.

Hawks's wings broke the surface, flapping once, twice, uselessly floundering alongside their owner while he gulped in air. He shouted a helpless plead into the sky, coughing up water from his own mouth. “Please!”

Third attempt. Lethargy began to overcome him as the cold water licked along his body. His gloves grabbed at handfuls of sand at the bottom of the river. Trash, glass, anything but you or your clothing. When had you fallen in? Could a human even last this long? He wouldn't know until someone recovered your body. It would be him to do so, and it would be right now.

Fourth try. Tears merged with the river wrapping him up in its clutches. He had a chance to save you. Why would he have been given this life, with the training and honing and suffering, if it wouldn't enable him to save you? Hawks searched the water blindly, hands and wings and eyes reaching for some part of you to hang onto. Screams left him in constant sobs, carried away with the tide and into the abyss. As the seconds passed, he began to give in to the froth. He would die looking for you, but at least it meant not living a life without you.

Hawks was tossed into a large mass. Clothing spread in front of his eyes, the color of the jacket he'd bought you when the weather had begun to change. His super-human gaze narrowed in on your peaceful visage. It had the same serenity as a child's. . . and he was consumed with a palpable rage on par with his mentor's most intense inferno. This berserker trance gave him the strength to save his mate, made his quivering arms pull you from the filth, his delirious mind hold onto consciousness just a little longer, and let his wings stretch to their ultimate reach to somehow bend the water to his will.

You did nothing when he broke the surface.

“Come on. Breathe!” Hawks screamed. As best as he could, he leaned back to let you rest face-up on his chest. From here he could hold your chin back and above the water. This wasn't going to work, he knew, when merely holding you up was forcing him under.

Through the struggle, he still had to find the shore. It took time, too much, but eventually, he was able to push his spent muscles and your limp carcass onto the bank. Your skin was an impossibly dead color, lips lax and lacking any pigment.

In his near-hysteria, Hawks never hesitated before he began pushing on your chest relentlessly. Any semblance of rhythm was interrupted by his panic. “Please! Come on kid, breathe for me!”

Crunch. Crack. Snap. His impacts had begun to break your ribs. He knew he was hurting you but this was the only way to have any chance of saving you and the dichotomy forced tears from his eyes. Never had he imaged himself hurting you on purpose but what choice did he have?

Hawks's pounding was relentless. He didn't worry about his own fading mind, the severe tremble in his body, or his wings, rendered waterlogged and useless. Panic made him scream, curse, and hold your face one last time—

Water dribbled out your nose and mouth. When he collapsed over top of you to try and sense a sign of life, he heard faint beats from your weary heart, and a chilly exhale brushed against his ear. Breathing.

“That's it, don't give up on me.” Hawks said. He rubbed your sternum to help push out more water and get you back to consciousness. Then came the coughing, gagging, wheezing, shivering at the icy temperatures. It took many moments for your thoughts to assemble in some fort of cognitive way. Fuck it was cold, fuck you were in pain, but the pain meant you were alive. Alive thanks to the very special man sitting back and collapsing in the waves. Vaguely you heard his voice, exhausted and paper-thin on the air.

The muscle weakness kept you from being able to so much as lift your arms. If you could, you would've sat up sooner. If you'd done that, maybe you could've saved Hawks from the river. Now all you had were the waves of water at your legs and the drag marks in the sand of someone being pulled in. No Hawks. The air you'd just gotten back into your body rushed out in fear. He must have fainted, been swept back under the waves, and now you had to get him back when you could barely keep your eyes open.

“Kei. . . Keigo.” You tried to scream. What came out was a weak whimper. You saw nothing in the water no matter where you looked. He was just here. He had just saved you. Now, you had to do the same for him.

There.

The tip of a wing arced across the surface, slowly, with no resistance. Could you even swim right now without drowning again? Waterlogged clothes, weak muscles, overwhelming chill. Getting up seemed impossible; how were you going to fare treading water?

You didn't hesitate.

Someone was looking out for you when several seconds of swimming blindly downstream put you next to another glimpse of a crimson wing just a dozen feet away. The river had narrowed by now, forcing the current into a faster pace. You grabbed here, there, tortuously, for several seconds until the brush of a leather glove kicked you into overdrive. He was just within reach when a sharp turn to the river forced you apart. It was your turn to yell for him.

His face emerged from the swells, faintly gasping. It went back under for a moment before you finally latched into his jacket and pulled him to you. With what strength you had left you kept his head tucked under your chin. How much water had he ingested by now? What about you?

“Why. . . did you. . .” He tried into your throat. You didn't have time to reply before the both of you were thrown against a large cement pole emerging from the rapids. Terror gripped you when you lost hold of him, feeling him slip until you tightened around him like some feral creature.

Now you had to be strong again. Not for yourself, this time, but for Hawks. “We have to get to shore.” If you were lucky, one good push from the current could get you close. Time was precious, now. The longer you two spent in the icy river, the more your strength and coordination would leave you. The layers of fabric that had kept the both of you warm were now weighing you down, not to mention Keigo's wings. “Babe?” You tried. A vague hum was all you got in return. It was nearly impossible to discern amongst the sounds of waves all around you. “I know you're tired, I know it hurts, but we gotta work together. I need your help, Keigo.”

Hearing his name from your voice, feeling the lethargy creeping in on you, knowing you were risking everything to try and save him when it should be the other way around; it made his eyes open. . . and his pupils narrow into animalistic slits. A snarl from someplace deep inside him was all you got as a warning before clawed hands gripped mercilessly onto your skin. Hawks's wings came to life, powerfully beating once, twice, and more to gather momentum. He'd brought both of you several inches out of the water before the minimal lift his wings managed to produce finally collapsed under their own weight. A second try yielded identical results. He was rapidly losing strength — you could feel it in the heaving of his chest pressed to your back and in the pants he exhaled into your ear. The rush of adrenaline would soon leave him completely and with it your chance of living.

“Keigo. . . I love you.” You quietly spoke. Despite the situation you began to feel at ease. Hawks was there with you. . . and the pull of the current became enticing. . . to let go now would be peaceful. . .

He growled in response: don't give up on me, now. The power it exuded brought some life back into you. Your injuries prevented you from properly taking in your surroundings, but Hawks spotted a piece of rebar sticking out at an angle from the shore. The position put it right over your heads, but several feet above the water. He had one chance to gain height and grab it. His strength was all but gone, hypothermia had long since set in. Did he still even possess the coordination?

It didn't matter. Possessing it or not wasn't a question. He'd find it.

His wings pushed themselves to their breaking point, heaving out of the water and hitting it with a loud smack, over and over, gaining centimeters each time. By now you'd gone limp, overcome by the cold and your injuries, but the talons on his one hand had long-since embedded themselves into you and your clothing. Neither God nor Satan could get him to let go.

His trajectory was off but nonetheless the fingertips of his free hand brushed the metal before latching onto it with a bone-crushing grip. A brief moment of relief was overcome when almost immediately the soaked leather of his gloves began to slip from the pole. He couldn't hold on, but he didn't need to. Thinking fast, he used the last bit of his grip to throw himself towards the riverbank before his hand let go completely. The sand — salvation — was still feet away, and the current was pulling him back to certain death. His heart lurched, feet kicking wildly. Then, a miracle.

His boots brushed against the silty bottom of the river. A final gust of willpower had his feet straining to get a better hold. Step. Slip. Step. Slip. Step. Slip. A fraction of an inch at a time, Hawks began to gain traction in the muck. Again, gravity became a friend and a foe as he emerged from the deathtrap, you successfully in his shaking grasp.

He fell with you into the mud and dirt, not even strong enough to break your fall or lessen the impact of him falling over top of you. Fighting off the sweet serenity of unconsciousness proved nearly impossible. Hawks don't know how he managed — he was convinced he'd never felt physical agony as bad as this.

The mental anguish of failing to ensure your safety was the only thing keeping him awake. He didn't see the bridge overhead, the people witnessing the struggle, or the frantic calls for heroes and an ambulance. All he saw was you. Keigo held your cheek in his palm, a thumb touching at your frosty lashes. He hadn't even noticed the cuts and bruises from the car crash marring your otherwise tranquil visage. “Come on, please. Let me get this one thing right.”

Hawks pulled off his glove with his teeth. If he didn't know any better he'd think you were dead, but he knew your spirit, knew how much you'd fought for him and for yourself. With someone like you, there was a chance. He pressed his greying fingers over your carotid.

Bump. Bump. Bump. Bump. Your ghostly pulse pushed back against his finger pads; sluggish, faint, but there.

All rigidity left his body at that moment, sending him collapsing on top of you. He watched -- numb and immobile -- as the breath of his exhale came out smokey and violent before dissipating into the winter air. Both of you lay unconscious and unmoving for several minutes before EMTs could arrive and find their way down to the riverbank. In those minutes Hawks never moved from his position on top of you — protecting you even while knocked out. The two of you appeared frozen in time and space, perhaps in a place far away without cold or pain. Some would later go on to say Hawks looked borderline childish, his cheek smooshed to your chest. Your heartbeat softly into his ear.

The instant an EMT touched your body Hawks was awake. His golden eyes opened wide as his body tensed. Claws grew, pupils constricted, fangs descended. The hissing roar he unleashed had the paramedic falling back into the mud. When he looked up, the image that greeted him appeared to be torn from a book of mythology.

Crimson wings freckled with ice shivered violently with cold and rage. Though they lacked the strength to rise from the dirt, they still drew in close to protect the precious body trapped under them. Wheat-colored eyes blazed, razor-thin and reactive. One of Hawks's clawed hands carefully dove under you to pull you closer to his chest, away from any signs of harm. Finally, an inhuman and thunderous hiss boomed from his chest. One look into the eyes of the bravest (dumbest) bystander sent even him scrambling away.

Needless to say. . . the first EMT didn't try to separate you two. He didn't have the guts. Not with Hawks close by. In fact, it took a far more experienced paramedic to successfully get Hawks to let you go. Not because he outmuscled him, but because he talked Hawks out of it.

“You did good, Hawks.” The older paramedic said in an attempt to reach him. Years on the job gave the man the experience to know how to talk down someone who, at the moment, was more animal than man. “You did really good, but she needs medical help. That gash on her head looks pretty bad, but we can only treat her if you let us.”

Still Hawks didn't move.

“She's barely breathing, dude.” He continued. “You got her this far, let us get her the rest of the way, alright? I'll let you watch me the whole time.”

Hawks appraised the gentleman for some time. Finally, his rational mind seemed to return, and with it his ability to give you up for medical treatment. He saw the blood coating his fingers when he allowed the EMT to reach under him and pull you out and onto a gurney.

Hawks continued to stare at his hand and talons while you were being treated. Don't get any ideas, he watched your treatments like a, well, hawk. He kept track of your breathing by feeling the air with the tips of his drying feathers. In the ambulance, the hallway, while they tended to you in the hospital. Never once did he stop eyeing the nurses and doctors. Everyone felt it, too — the gaze of a predator lying just out of reach. Waiting for any excuse to go on the attack.

The feeling in his hand still drew his attention from time to time. His talons didn't get to “come out” very often; the cuticles were sore, and getting his nails to retract was proving difficult. Hawks looked between them and you every few minutes. He'd hurt you. His wings, his mutation, his reason for being, had done nothing but get himself in trouble and make it harder to save you. It was easy to feel the familiar self-loathing consuming his heart. If only he were different, normal even, maybe this would have turned out better. His heart squeezed tightly when he imagined how you'd comfort him. You would most certainly chastise him for thinking such a way. After all, if it weren't for the inhuman reserves of strength and survival instinct, you'd likely be at the bottom of the river. The truth was he had in fact protected you. It wasn't perfect, but he looked at you in the bed, a nurse giving you another blanket to help keep you warm, and knew you'd give him the space to try and be the best he could.

-- -- -- -- -- --

Just imagine how he'd treat you when you woke up. awwwwwww