#keigo tatami

[beachbeibi]

Lost & Found part 2

(Quirkless AU ft. Todosiblings , Big Bro Touya, Dabihawks but it’s complicated)

[prettyboykatsuki]

CIRCLE HAUNTS | TAKAMI KEIGO (HAWKS)

✮ tags ; dead dove: do not eat, gender neutral reader, no quirk au, horror + suspense, themes of cannibalism, implied / depicted cannibalism, noncon kissing + biting/drawing blood and flesh, intentionally open-ended, institutionalized cannibalism, white collar crime, yandere!hawks, 18+

✮ wc ; 9.9k (??)

✮ a/n ; another comm for the beloved @bitchkiss, thank you for your patience and also for letting me post.

✮ synopsis ; you move into a suspiciously nice house in the shizuoka prefecture, and meet your good-looking and unnerving neighbor. nothing is how it seems.

An abandoned house. Mostly functional in the outskirts of the Shizuoka prefectures in a lived-in district. 

On auction for a little less than 7 million-yen. Located in a  not quite suburb. Too much land between acres and backyards to qualify that way. All the other houses are within walking distance though, and there’s no shortage of places to go with a fair bit of time and energy. 

By all measures, a perfectly good house in a perfectly good prefecture. Even now you’re not sure why it went on sale. You stare at it, outside cream colored with a gate and a cat bowl left on the porch from the previous owner - food gone to dust. Something looms on at the doorsteps, the sun-cast shadows almost as dark as oblivion night. In the front yard are wild strawberries and bushes of ivy. 

It’s a home, no matter which way you look at it. 

But you can’t bring yourself to walk inside. 

You placed your bets on this house completely on a whim months ago.

You’d been looking for a house. No that’s not it - it was more that you’d started to look at houses. An important distinction in this instance, because you weren’t looking to move when you began. You wonder if it’s a rite of passage in your adulthood to peruse listings for places you can’t afford. Dreaming habitually of your landlord's body on a cross or of in unit washer/dryers. You weren’t unhappy with your living arrangements when you started doing it, but the longing for autonomy sunk its teeth into you and showed no plans of letting go. So browsing through houses idly, wine-drunk and exhausted, became something of a regular practice. 

It was three months ago, during that practice (and after an especially scathing argument with your roommates) you’d gotten drunk and committed your usual routine. Cracked open a wine cooler, took off your clothes until you were down to your underwear, and cracked open your laptop to look at more property listings. That time, with a little more weary bitterness in your heart than all times before. 

The search process for Japanese property could range  anywhere from uneventful to laughably cruel at any given time. Whether it be listings for upend mansions in Tokyo or worn down one-bedrooms in Osaka. For every house that seemed livable, there were ten or fifteen completely out of reach or in complete shambles. 

When you came up on thee listing initially, it felt too good to be true. A house in Shizuoka with lots of yard space. A house with decent upkeep and an even larger kitchen - and nice tatami in one of the siderooms. A beautiful house in a beautiful area, on auction instead of the normal sale. Some people had bid on it - but the pool was still low. Seven million yen was your final bet - the mortgage would only be a little more than your rent. You’d put your name down on a whim. With a laugh. 

Laughed yourself unconscious and forgot about it until a month passed. A call from an unknown number to your personal cell. 

A call from a realtor. Your name, miraculously, got chosen with the highest bid. The house was yours if you wanted it. You could move in as early as May.

You were convinced it was a scam at first - like any normal person with common sense would be. Immediately rejected. But the realtors assured you over the line that it wasn’t a scam, that the previous owners just didn’t want it anymore. Some kind of emergency. Of course - you didn’t believe them at face value either. So you did some research, went to tour the house, tried to gather information proving the whole thing was a hoax. 

But there was nothing you could find even after plenty of internet sleuthing and asking everyone in your life to help you vet. When you mentioned to everyone, not a single person advocated for you staying in the city. Your job even offered to move you to the Shizuoka branch. 

It was a good opportunity. There’s a coastal path not too far from where the house is. The previous family didn’t take the cat or any of his papers with him - but he’s friendly from what they say. There’s lots of space indoors and out. 

It’s a cheap price, for a good house and you’d probably never get an opportunity like it again. 

Something is wrong with it. You can tell that just looking at it now, despite how picture-esque it is on the surface. It’s a beautiful house. There’s even a second story and a balcony. You could plant a garden in the yard and still have space for grilling outside. 

It’s a beautiful house. 

And something is wrong with it - but you’ll never get an opportunity like this again. 

Maybe you’re more of a conspiratorial person than you thought. 

You look at the truck you’ve hauled all your things in. Your loved ones have been helping you in moving in the rest of your belongings over the last few months - so what's left is mostly lightweight knick-knacks and essentials. Clothes too. The car is parked along the side of the road with the back popped open for easy access. You shake yourself off your thoughts like you’re trying to banish them. 

It’s a beautiful day outside. Early June heat that’s enough to warm but not enough to burn or swelter. The sun beats down on your skin, the sounds of gnats buzzing and the breeze rustling the overgrown fields makes your heart swell. You take a breath and remind yourself it’s a good opportunity. Stretching your arms over your head, your spine cracks. Putting your hands on your hips, you nod enthusiastically, encouraging yourself to try harder. 

“Let’s just rip the bandaid off,” You mutter. You pull your keys from your front pocket, planning on opening the door first before hauling the rest in. 

The sound of an engine makes you turn your head towards the road. A silver car, something compact - drives along the edge of the pavement. Your expression changes as the car starts to slow in front of the house. Your house. You’re never going to be used to that. Are the realtors coming for a visit? Your move-in date was set months ago, so they should know you’re here. 

The car halts to a stop a few feet from your own truck, the tinted windows rolling down to reveal a good looking blonde man. He can’t be much older than you. He lets his arm hang out from one side of the window. 

His hair is pushed back and shiny, and he’s wearing a button up shirt and brown pants. There’s sunglasses resting on top of his head. He kind of looks like a douche, but you try not to let first impressions sour your views. You give him a confused look, instinctively backing away as he smiles at you. 

“You must be the new neighbor. Heard someone was moving into this place after the Nakamura’s left, but there’s always rumors like that floating around here,” He says, talking so much at once. You kind of have a hard time getting used to him.”But I’m glad to see that it’s true. Gets a little lonely out here if all the houses don’t have people in it. In my opinion, at least.” 

You give him a blank stare. He holds out his arm to you through the car window. You have no reason not to take it, and it seems rude for you to decline - so you shake his hand. His grip is firm and assured, golden eyes narrowing into something pleased. You feel a shiver run through you. 

There’s something about him. 

“Uh, do I know you?” You say instinctually. This catches him off guard. He pauses before breaking out into a laugh. 

“I’m Takami Keigo! You’ll hear people call me Hawks too though. I’m your neighbor. My house is..” He points north, “..the one ‘bout two minutes that way. I’m very involved with the community here. It’s pretty tight knit.” He explains to you. It doesn’t reassure you for some reason. You think it’s supposed to. “Is there anything I can help you with? Looks like you’re still moving in.” 

You make an expression of distrust towards him but his smile remains unfaltering.

“I’m alright,” You supplement, trying to keep the peace. “I wouldn’t wanna keep you but I appreciate you coming to meet me.” 

He looks like he’s considering the words, enough to turn himself around and leave. After a few seconds though, he pulls away and parks his car on the side of the road in front of your house. When he emerges from the front door - his expression doesn’t change at all. His smile is disarming. He’s not a terrible guy to look at  - but you wonder what he’s doing so far from the city. 

The way he dresses is metropolitan. His shirt is loose but his pants are fitted like their tailored - expensive fabrics that the big suits from your job wear. He’s wearing slacks when he’s not working, and loafer shoes that don’t seem suited for the outdoors. You’re not far enough in the country to be expecting country folk, but the area is relegated to families. Something suburban and simple about the people you’ve met so far, yourself included in some ways. No one like him. 

You go with your gut about him and keep a distance. 

It might be too early to completely shut him out - and you do want to get along with the people here if you’re going to take permanent residence. Not friendly, but comfortable. You figure it might be less precarious to go with whatever he’s interested in. He’s not going to harm you in broad daylight, not when he’s dressed like that. And you’ve already had so much apprehension since you’ve moved - you’re almost hoping there’s something you’ve overlooked about him. Something to assure you’re just engaging in some self-sabotage about everything. 

You soften your posture and put on a business smile. There’s a ghost of something - intrigue maybe, but it’s gone before you catch wind of it. You wonder if you imagined it. 

“Well if you insist, but I don’t want to leave you with nothing,” You offer to him, as charismatic and naive as you can spin yourself. Neither of you seem to believe it, and the whole conversation feels like a sham. But he hasn’t turned to leave in offense, so you keep going “I do have some drinks inside and I’m curious about the neighborhood.”

His grin widens. 

“June heat like this is the perfect weather for a cold beer. Would be great with some meat,” He hums noncommittally. You try your best not to let your face crack into distrust. “What do you need? Just some boxes carried inside?” 

You nod. 

“Yeah. It’d be nice to only make a few trips here and there.” 

“Easy peasy. You didn’t give me your name though. Little impersonal, don’t you think?” 

You’d prefer he didn’t know it - but perhaps that’s asking too much since you’re letting him move things into your house. You give it to him neutrally, picking up a tote that you can carry along with your keys. Takami picks up your things swiftly. The boxes he chooses are heavy - you know that because of the way they’re labeled. The gesture is effortless though, and you’re not sure if it’s good or bad that you’ve noticed. 

“Pretty name.” He tells you, and you do your best to not make a face. When he notices your staring, he tilts his head to one side. His teeth gleam an unnerving white. You can’t get over the yellow-gold of his eyes. “Surprising, right? But I’m stronger than I look.” 

He waits for you to walk in front of him. Maybe it’s the paranoia, but it strikes you somehow. How he’s trying to appear. He’s perceptive. You walk in front of him, starting down the concrete path to the front of the house. 

“Any reason or are you just a gym buff?” 

He thinks about how he’s going to reply, but doesn’t meet your eyes to look at you when he does. 

“Got into a lot of fights as a kid so I had to get strong. Something like that.” 

When your eyes meet the second time, you can tell he’s seeing what you’ll probe out of him. Wanting to know what questions you’ll ask. 

“Rough childhood, then?” 

Bullseye, if his reaction is anything to go by. He hums and chuckles, still carrying the boxes. You fidget with your keys, the door sounding with a faint click as you push it open with the weight. 

The lights are all turned off. It’s not your first time seeing the house - but the first time seeing it furnished in full. For weeks you’d been putting your furniture in it, and putting food in the fridge to make moving in smooth. All the other times you’ve been inside, you’ve never felt one way or another about it. Living there wasn’t actualized for all those months - but looking at your things, new and old, makes it all feel real. 

It’s a moment too intimate for a stranger to bear witness to and you think he’s probably well-aware. He doesn’t say a word, just observes you from the corner of his eye. When you come out of whatever trance you were just under, he whistles. 

“Nice decor,” He compliments - a fair attempt at lightening the mood. “Where should I put these?”

“Those can just go behind the couch for now, thanks.” 

He listens to you wordlessly, dropping the boxes off. You watch the light of the sun reflect onto him. He’s yellow gold. You think your mother might find him good looking. He stands back up and meets your eyes. Piercing, underneath everything.  He has marks on the corners of his eyes that give you the impression of a bird. A hawk scoping for something to peck at. 

“Two down, about how many more to go do you think?” 

“I think 6, give or take. And then some luggage with my clothes.” 

“Let’s get to work then, shall we?” 

You give him a tight lipped smile. 

“Of course,” 

__ 

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to bring all of your belongings into the house. It’s a short few trips and there isn’t really much small talk for the two of you to engage in during it. 

Once it’s over you, you thank Takami for his hard work and reward him with a beer as promised. You’re sure he knows that it’s only formality - but he’s completely  comfortable in overstaying his welcome. 

The two of you sit on the steps leading up to the front of your house - a cold beer in hand. The sun is starting to hide behind the clouds, and that deep shadow seems to cast once again. Over the both of you this time, and not just on your front steps. You let your nail push the tab of the can open, a soft carbonated hiss sounding as you depressurize it. Takami follows suit. He holds the can up to yours and looks at you before you can drink. 

“Cheers to our hard work,” 

You try not to balk at him, indulging his odd behavior per your own sanity. He’s aware of your apprehension, but his persistence is almost impressive. Another tight lipped smile. “Cheers, Takami-san.” 

You take your first sips in complete silence and don’t look his way for any reason. You need the brief respite of peace to deal with the terrible weight of the pit in your stomach, still lingering. You wonder if his presence is worsening it, or if this is another thing your imagination decides to supplement. The cool liquid and faint sourness of Sapporo ease your mind, if barely. You observe the can in your hand momentarily, pretending to read the label. 

He takes a similarly long sip of his drink and then lets out a semi-obnoxious aah. You peer over at him. 

“Thanks again for helping with the move.” You say, mostly trying to fill the space with conversation so you don’t have to talk to him more than necessary. “I appreciate it.” 

“Of course,” He says, waving his hand around in front of him. “Like I said, it’s a pretty tight knit community around here. I’ll introduce you to everyone whenever you’re free. They’re good folk.” 

There’s something in his voice when he adds the last words. You wonder if you’re overthinking it again. 

“Is that so?” 

He looks at you, but you don’t meet his gaze. “Mm. A lot of people move out here to get a break from the hustle and bustle of the city. Hard-working folks. Families. It’s good to know them,” 

You wonder if you’re being too honest about yourself - but decide that there isn’t anything he could do with the information you’re about to tell him. 

“Interesting. I always grew up in the heart of the industrial district, so that’s lost on me. I even lived in Shinjuku for a while.” You offer mindlessly. “A good change of pace I guess.”

“Oh, we’re the same then,” He offers. You want to ask him to elaborate on what that means, but he brushes over it just as quickly “You’ll like it here then. Just knock on my door if you need something.” 

He looks at you again that time, some knowing in his gaze. You try not to react in either direction, just nodding your head silently as you drink more of your beer. 

“Yeah,” You offer, not looking towards him, “I’ll do that.” 

__ 

For all the evading you down when you speak to Keigo, it was no lie that you spent most of your life living in the heart of the city. 

The hustle and bustle of Musutafu, in the industrial districts of various prefectures - all of that was what you were accustomed too. When you were in your late teens and moved out for the first time - you lived in Shinjuku for two years and worked in the nightlife trying to pay for your tuition. 

You would’ve never predicted a suburb for your future. It’s not the environment you know well. You can’t help but wonder if it’s always so… quiet. 

In the time you’ve started living in your new home, not much has changed in your daily life. 

Your initial paranoia has faded out enough to go about your responsibilities in peace. The previous family’s cat occasionally returns back to the porch, and you’ve started to buy it food just in case it decides it wants to stay permanently. A brown tortoiseshell who is always a little worried. You eat breakfast at the same time, but sleep in later since the Shizuoka branch you’ve moved to is a shorter commute. You still take your daily walks, and sometimes you’ll take some time to visit the coastal path and lay your eyes on the open water. 

(The ocean doesn’t feel as comforting as it once did. Maybe it’s symptomatic of your own grievances, but looking at the endless expanse - your throat closes with the fear of it swallowing you along with it. 

If it did, who would come find you? So far from everything you know?) 

You’re entering into mid June, brushing along the edges of July. The heat is starting to be too much. You can’t stay outdoors for too long without feeling like your whole body is going to melt into the concrete and evaporate you from the inside. The nights get chilly, but the days are long. Humidity makes your skin sticky with sweat, and you’re running up your water bill with just how often you bathe. 

Everything here is by all means much more uneventful. Some parts of it unsettle you. The nights are eerily quiet and before dawn breaks, there’s always a thick head of something perspiring in the horizon like fog.

Most days, the only people you talk to in person are your co-workers. Your friends live back in your hometown, so you only see them on weekends. Same with your family. It’s just you, and some after work dinners. 

But mostly you.

And Hawks. You call him Hawks, in your head and Takami when he speaks. But Hawks feels more apt. 

Hawks, seemingly, does not care what face you show him. Nothing stops him from showing up at your door at one time or another - always before you’re going on your walks.

(You want to ask how he even knows your schedule, but you doubt he’d give you any straight answers.) 

And he doesn’t leave. You don’t think he would, no matter how rough you were about telling to fuck off. How demanding. You don’t want to confront him out of self preservation. It’s not easy to tell him to fuck off for some reason you have trouble placing. When you normally would, when it’d normally be so easy. You do it at your job all the time, to men much more important than him. 

When he comes by, he hangs at your gate and never crosses the threshold to enter. He won’t move unless he’s invited in. You give up on being nice. If you offer him a glass of water, he’ll always agree just to see your expression change. He’s polite to make you uncomfortable. Says please and thank you, and makes conversation with you like he’s interested. An amalgam of reasons that you don’t like his company. Inescapable kindness that lends itself to plausible deniability. 

What do you do for work? Oh, what’d you study for? Where are you from? Where are your parents from?

You never want to answer his questions. But he stays, lingers longer if you don’t. He archives the information, you’re sure - but you don’t know what for. 

He knows what he needs to know. You live by yourself and your family is farther away. But he always wants to know more, always lingers at the gates - waiting to be let in despite how tight you’ve got your fingers on the lock. 

You try not to involve yourself with him more than necessary. You avoid him if you’re walking around the neighborhood for any reason, and you never ask him about himself. He never tells you about himself either - but you can’t be sure why that is. If it’s for your sake or for his. 

You try not to get used to him, but it doesn’t surprise you to see him just outside of your door. Sun pours over him in white rays like melted iron, but he’s the same as always. Same smile, same golden eyes, same unnerving expression. 

He waves at you politely as you let your bodycon bag hang off of one side - a single headphone in as you look at him. You don’t bother smiling. 

If it bothers him, it doesn’t show on his face. 

“Hi neighbor,” 

“Hey,” You reply, walking closer to the gate. It’s almost routine, but you try your best not to get used to it. No point in getting comfortable. “You’re here again,” 

He laughs good-naturedly. “I am. Good to check in, no? Don’t want you getting lonely out here by yourself.” 

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” 

He laughs again, but he sounds more sincere. 

“Going on another walk? You should be careful in this heat, you know. Take care of your body and everything.” 

“I’ll be fine,” You offer, standing in limbo and waiting for him to leave. “Thanks for your concern.” 

“So cold to me,” He quips. So he does know. “Hope it’s a nice little workout for you.” 

You sigh as you make more small talk, mostly tuned out of whatever he’s saying. 

“Got any plans for today, Takami-san?” 

He pauses before smiling to himself. He lets his arms cross over the metal of your gate, but doesn’t flinch when the heated edge touches his bare skin. You wonder about it, go to ask - but he’s talking again before you can. 

“I do, actually.  Gonna go into the shop today and get a new fridge,” He tells you, his grin bright and unusual. You’re surprised. He never tells you anything about what he’s doing, no matter how casual. Nothing more than whether he’s working or not. “I’m out of room in my old fridge, so I’m upsizing.” 

“Out of room?”

You ask before you can calculate the correct move. It’s a slip up, you both know it. His smile widens just barely, nodding his head and closing his eyes. 

“Mm. Ran out of space. A lot of mouths to feed.” He says, and opens one eye playful. “A lot of people live with me. Too big of a house to leave everything all empty.” 

“I wouldn’t have guessed that.” 

“Oh my roommates?” Hawks says, and you nod. His smile gets bigger. “They’re kind of  a rag-tag bunch. Not sociable like me. I can always bring them to meet you - if you’d like.” 

“No need to trouble them.” 

“But you should get to know the people who live here a little better,” He insists, finally backing away from your gate. “It’s good to be familiar with your neighbors. I’ll try and direct people to you. Word’ll get out faster that way,” 

You go again to protest, but he cuts you off a second time - seeming faux apologetic about your upset. 

“You should come over for dinner next week, too. Meet my roommates. At 7 ish, we should all be together. They’d love to meet you,” 

You meet his eyes and wonder if his invitation is as deliberate as you assume. When you peer into them, you confirm that it is. He’s not forcing you. You’re sure that if you rejected him now, he’d return to the way he was. He might fake being hurt, but he’d still visit you at your door. He’d still linger, still be there. He’s inviting you in on purpose. Dinner with his roommates is a less than casual affair - and nonsense for your relationship. 

It’s a bad idea, and maybe a trap. You’re almost positive of that. 

But if you did go - it’d confirm things. You’re positive of that too. You’d know for sure if you were being paranoid, if you went into that house that looks just two minutes away and saw the inside of it. You feel your heart pump through your body as the sun moves away from the clouds. There’s no longer a shadow cast on your face. Just pure, blinding heat. 

You shield your eyes with your hand, all too conscious of the heat crawling up your back and the tightness forming in your stomach. 

“Sure,” You reply, noncommittally - trying not to show too much of any one feeling. No advantages. But you feel like you’ve already lost. “I’ll see if I can make it,” 

“See you then, neighbor,” He waves, finally turning to leave. “Looking forward to it.” 

__ 

He’s true to his word on multiple fronts. Which. Doesn’t comfort you.

 An official dinner invitation, and more importantly - sending out the other neighbors to come and meet you. He’s made a point of making good on both vaguely threatening promises. 

Like your old living arrangements, you don’t go out of your way to talk to anyone here. You’re busier in the Shizuoka branch (though you like it there) and you find that there’s more daily upkeep with the new and improved space. Plus it’s mostly family folks and retired couples - no one you have any business speaking with for more than five minutes. So you’re not really going out of your way to socialize. 

You never planned on being buddy-buddy with any of the people who live in the area, anyway. Acquainted and friendly at best. 

But  in these last few weeks, folks from all up and down the streets have arrived at your doorstep bearing all sorts of gifts. Fruits and desserts and other housewarming things they think you'd find helpful. They come so often even you have a hard time refusing them, though you’ve wormed your way out of any of them coming inside of your home or crossing far-past the threshold of the gate. 

On the surface, they’re good folks like he described them to be. There’s no distrust to the conversation, nothing they want to wield against you. 

But something's off. And isn’t that always the case here? You’re starting to feel like you’re repeating yourself. Stuck in a loop, some kind of odd deja vu. 

It’s two things you notice. They’re both minor, but they bother you. 

The first is the way they describe Hawks. 

Nothing but good things. Which makes you sound like a bitch, even to yourself. But it’s weird. The kind of kindness that doesn’t feel real. Empty praises like a helium balloon. Last week one of your neighbors described him as benevolent and his wife agreed whole-heartedly. Each time you wonder if you’re thinking too much about it. Benevolent isn’t a word you’d use to describe anyone you like, no matter how well acquainted. 

You know people as charismatic as him so you know that it’s something people do. He’s a good guy, but you don’t know him so you say empty, kind things. Still, it bothers you. And it’s like they say. A friend to everyone is a friend to no one. 

It’s uncomfortable that no one shows any sign of disagreement about how kind he is. That there’s no hesitant glances or country gossip. That not one old lady has pulled you in for gossip and wine. There’s no character. No humanity. 

It’s backwards but there’s too much harmony. In the people, in the weather, in the road - paved perfectly with no cracks. Everyday of June since moving in has been nothing but blue, cloudless skies. A bright vivid sun concentrated into one shape, heat casting the illusion of waves. No June rain to water the gardens or wash off the dusty roads. No lightning storms that send all the animals howling, no winds strong enough to dust a city into the sea. 

It’s not nothingness. There’s something to that at least. If it felt abandoned, it might feel less unsettling. An abandoned place is a familiar one, a memory from your hometown. An abandoned place usually means that someone lived there before you. At least ghosts are the promises of people, even deceased. 

Is there something more nonexistent than a ghost, while still being material? You don’t know what that would be. 

Hollow but not empty - the skeleton of a suburb. Like something has been carved out of it and replaced. Unnatural, man-made. It never fails to make all the hair on your neck stand. 

Then there is the other thing. 

Well it’s a stretch. Even you can acknowledge that it might just be coincidence. But nothing here feels like sole coincidence except for the fact you’ve been unfortunate enough to end up here. 

A lot of people in town have… injuries. Particular ones. The elderly couple up the street has a lost leg and missing pinky between the two of them. Of the few other people living alone here - all three of them have some type of it - a part of them completely gone. A lost eye or arm, or visible scars along their sides like something’s been … cut out of them. 

You know how it sounds. Even to yourself, you’ll reprimand your imagination. It’s not something you can discern meaning from, not something to draw conclusions from. This is Japan, a Japanese suburb with little kids playing in fucking mud and wild strawberries and bushes of ivy. 

Maybe the people who retire here are veterans, or maybe Hawks has some kind of charity. 

Maybe it’s something not sinister, because what else could it really be?

You keep trying to convince yourself that this time it really is your paranoia. Because even if you examine that, try to unravel - what does it leave you with but more questions? 

You want answers. Need them so you stop tossing and turning. But even if you’re to get answers, you aren’t sure if you could trust them. You trust your gut - yourself and only yourself. 

You know something is wrong, but just how wrong do things get before the point of no return?

But you can’t help living here if something is wrong. As wrong as you think. If it doesn't go away, what then? What happens to you? Neighbors keep meeting you and people keep being injured and tight-lipped and hollow eyed. Something is always waiting for you in the dark. 

You want to get ahead of it, no matter how fucking sick it makes you.  You have to know or it'll swallow you up. 

You just want to put the whole thing to rest, and get answers. You’d take fake ones to placate you if they were believable, you’d take anything to get your fucking mind off of it. 

But the longer you stay, the longer you live at the edge of the road, the longer Hawks  waves to you as he passes by your place - makes you feel like you can’t rest until you know. 

You need to know for sure. 

_

It rains. 

The day he invites you over for dinner, just two minutes down the street - it rains. Harsh, July rain that sounds like it’s running against the ground. Thudding as it floods the streets and turns the Earth to mush. You couldn’t have expected it. It’d been sunny in the morning, but it’d all gone gray outside while in the office. And then it got darker and heavier, like nightfall early. 

You were soaked on public transport on the way home, tracking mud into your front door as you walked along the grass back to your own home. You had enough time, at least - between getting home and going over to shower and sit down. 

In the two hours of your arrival from the office and your invitation - you pretend for a while that none of it is happening. You read on your couch and pet the cat you didn’t adopt. You listen to music and pleasantly paint your nails up until you have to get ready, because you don’t really want to get ready. 

You’re being dramatic. Or you’re not. But you don’t want to go. You don’t want to know what happens when you get there. You think about canceling. Taking a raincheck because of the weather. Feigning an illness for your not-cat. 

Something is wrong with this place, and it’s bothering you. But you don’t know if you’re prepared to find out what.

You decide to go, because the other option is remaining in the dark. You could tell him that you want to reschedule, but just like you trust your gut on most things - you get a feeling this is the only window you’ll get to find out anything important. Like if you do it another day, you’ll get the same hollow facade as always. 

So you dress yourself slowly. You take an umbrella, and lock your door shut. You even say goodbye to that cat that isn’t yours. You’ll make it back in one piece but something will change once you go.  Both of these you believe with full conviction. 

But you go. You go. 

When you get outside, you open your umbrella up and put it over your head - walking out past your front gate and onto the sidewalk. 

It’s not a lie that Hawks is the neighbor closest to you. He lives within walking distance, less than ten minutes from you. The neighborhood is more compact closer to his place, your own house being more isolated - the first house when cars turn the corner.

You don't know what the house looks properly, only what it's like vaguely in shape and color. On the walk there, it’s the only thing your eyes can focus on. You stare at it aimlessly as it comes into your vision line. 

It’s obscenely big. You don’t know how many people are living inside for that to be the case, but it sticks out. Even in your time in the city, you’ve never seen a house that size just out in the open, so protruding. It feels invasive. 

You feel something forming in your gut as you start to approach the gate. It doesn’t look so different to yours. 

Clearing your throat, you approach.

In the clear distance is Hawks, in front of the open door like he’s waiting for you. It’s still light outside, but the weather makes everything dark. The warm light pouring out of the open door casting shadow onto the concrete above it. Hawks runs to meet you at the gate to open it, not bothering to grab something to cover himself with. The rain soaks his head, makes his hair fall a little flat. 

There’s a girl waiting by the door with him, younger than you both - who’s looking at you with a wide smile. Her teeth are sharp like fangs. You can see them from afar, and better as you get closer. 

Hawks is quick as he unlocks the latch for you. He pulls the gate back and ushers you with his hands on your waist. Instinctually - you hold out the umbrella to cover his head. He gives you a smile as he leads you through to the front of the house. The rain feels like it gets heavier as he does. 

When you’re underneath cover, you’re rushed into the foyer of their place before you can think twice.

The door shuts behind you, the noise of the rain muffled. You miss it and you want to go outside again. You look at the door as it shuts, and the girl with him closes it and looks at you. 

She’s cute. She has to be a student, but she looks nothing like Hawks. He walks over to her and pats her head. 

“This is Toga. She’s the youngest of us. She won’t be joining us for dinner ‘cause she’s going to see her girlfriend, but she wanted to see the new neighbor.” 

You give her a passive glance. She smiles at you. 

“Nice to meet you, neighbor,” She drawls the end of the word, then looks you up and down. “Hawks keeps talking about you all the time,” 

“Aw, c’mon now Himiko-chan, don’t embarrass me in front of our guest,” Is what he says, but he doesn’t look embarrassed at all. “Take your raincoat and umbrella. Say hi Uraraka-san for me,” 

“Uh-huh, I will. Bye-bye,” 

You watch her get dressed for the rain and turn to leave. The brief sound of the rain returns and you’re all but too aware of how much you want to turn back from whence you came. 

Hawks takes your jacket for you. His voice guides you to putting your shoes in the rack, telling you where the house slippers are for guests. 

You’re not particularly trying to listen, but you’re out of your own body. The muffled rain thunders, cries out - makes you jump in your own skin. Lightning flashes through the whole house. 

He looks at you bemused. “Just a little rain,” 

“Right,” You reply, itching to get control of yourself “Been such a clear summer, so it spooked me,” 

“Are you off put easily?” Hawks asks. You close up your umbrella and hang it against a wall “You seem like it,”

You shake the water off your face and neck and shake your head. “Not particularly. Just not used to living here yet.” 

He nods sagely. “You’ll get used to it. But enough out of me, I’m here to introduce you to my roommates. You’ll have to forgive their curiosity, especially Touya.” 

Curiously, Hawks doesn’t proceed with his usual testimony and fair. He doesn’t tell you that they’re good people, like he normally does. Just smiles, coyly, and gestures you to the corner of the hall. 

From the kitchen on the other end of the foyer, you can hear sizzling and cutting - something being hacked away with a butcher's knife. Hawks waves your thoughts away as you turn your head towards it. “That’s Kurogiri. He learned we were having guests so he took up cooking. He’s the best at it, and I’m pretty decent. Himiko too.” 

“Oh, that’s kind. What are we having for dinner?” 

He stops to look at you. He holds his stare too long.“Meat. With some sides and rice, of course. I think it’s steak but Kurogiri doesn’t like western sides. You eat meat, right? You mentioned wanting to barbecue,” 

You hesitate. Something slips in his face, but it’s gone before you can catch it. You nod. “I uh do meat. I try not to lately, to save money.” 

He laughs. “Well, we have plenty to go around. Please eat as much as you like,” 

You frown at him. 

“...Thanks for the offer,” 

He doesn’t say anything more. Doesn’t make a punchy quip, or have a fresh joke like normal. Just nods aimlessly before giving you another familiar business smile. 

“Lets not keep ‘em waiting,” Hawks offers, as he walks you into the basement. The darkness at the end of the stairwell puts a familiar gnawing in your stomach. “I’m sure they’ll want to meet you sooner, rather than later.” 

__ 

They’re not what you expect. 

His roommates. You’re expecting people like him. Metropolitan, overly friendly types. You’re expecting people he gets along with well, and some of them do. 

But they’re nothing like Hawks at all, not even close.

Most of his roommates remind you of the kids living on the street during your life in the industrial districts. Rag-tag bunches who got in trouble with the law frequently, always in and out of the penal system. 

Of his roommates, Shigaraki is the most antisocial. He doesn’t say anything when Hawks drags you to his room. Hawks doesn’t seem to be expecting anything either, but he does ask if the former will join you for dinner. Shigaraki looks you up and down, then laughs for the first time, and says not tonight. Hawks shrugs and moves on.  

There’s Twice too, and he’s kind. Of them, you think he’s the nicest. He’s the closest with Toga. A bad past, he’s fond of Hawks (though you can’t be sure Hawk’s is fond of him.) Apparently he has some kind of condition and disorder, he tells you candidly - but he’s not unpleasant all the same. At the very least, he doesn’t offset some baser instinct to run far in the other direction. 

You meet Magne, an older girl and another man who doesn’t tell you his full name. Hawks calls him Compress, but he introduces himself to you as Sako. He tells you he won’t join you all for dinner - holds your hand, places a kiss on the back of your palm as an apology. The gesture weirds you out, but you try to keep the peace.

Hawks tells you he’s a performer and you believe him. 

The last person you meet is Touya. 

Touya is interesting. He has thick scars along his face and neck, burn marks - but he’s got a handsome face. Hawks seems most hesitant to introduce you two, but they room together. You want to ask if that’s necessary, given that there’s so much space in the house but refrain.

When Touya greets you, his grip is casual and firm. He mostly seems disinterested, except when you’re in closer proximity to him.

 Enough for him to flash you something pitiful. Something knowing, something… like he’s condescending you and pitying you all at once. 

He’s the one, of all of them, that leers at you the most openly. He assesses you, polite in his introduction before turning to Hawks. They communicate something to each other wordlessly and you don’t like any of it. After whatever that had been, Touya simply turned to examine you, shrugging as he agrees to dinner and slinking back down into his room.

After a while, you go back downstairs. Hawks doesn’t tell you anything about his living space. Just sits you in a living room and chats with you until dinner is ready. Chats hollowly about the same pointless dialogue fodder he always does. He stares at you with each word, and you try your best to ignore the shivering it incites. 

He’s relaxed with the charade here, but he keeps it up exceptionally well irregardless. 

Nothing is strange in a way that makes all of it strange. The rain pounds against every window like it’s begging to be inside and the doors sometimes shake when thunder claps. But nothing is wrong in a way you can prove. His roommates are nothing like you thought they’d be, and only serve to prove that you know even less about him than you might’ve assumed. 

He’s quick, on all fronts, to brush over any questions. 

Whatever you want to know about, Hawks won’t let you. But it’s not out of secrecy. If he could tell you to be patient without spoiling your little game, you’re sure he would. 

The pit of your stomach only grows heavier as the evening continues. Even though he hasn’t done anything to warrant your increasing distrust. Nothing feels as it seems. 

It’s nearly eight o’clock when Kurogiri calls you all to have dinner.

Hawks send you into the dining room alone. 

The walk into the dining room feels like it goes on forever. The hallway remains dark. At the end of the tunnel is a kitchen. A brightly lit dining room with warm lights and a table that seats many people. On the table, there's a bottle of sake and glasses. A pitcher of water with lemons cut into it, and plenty of sides. 

On display though is meat. A lot of meat. Meat you can’t identify any one way, and that doesn’t smell like any other meat you’ve ever had. Hawks mentioned steak, and you can’t be sure it’s not that. It just doesn’t look like it from this distance.

 The tables are all set-out, and there’s a steak on each plate. 

Kurogiri is polite when he greets you. 

“Oh,” He says, thinking to himself. “You must be the guest. Sit here. Keigo insisted I sit you next to him,” 

You’re startled, but nod your head. “Nice to meet you, Kurogiri-san,” 

He shakes his head. “The pleasure is all mine,”

You sit at the far end of the table, and let Kurogiri pour you a glass of water. The rest of the housemates start coming into the kitchen. Magne, and Twice, and Touya mostly - along with Hawks at the tail end. He comes around the redwood table to join you. He sits at the very head while everyone sits in what seems to be their own assigned seats. Touya sits directly to your right. Kurogiri sits at the opposite end of the table, glancing at Hawks. 

“Master Shigaraki won’t be joining us?” 

Hawks shakes his head. “Said he wasn’t. You can always bring  him something to eat.I can take care of your guest.” 

Kurogiri pauses, then looks at you. He shakes his head. “Just be careful, Hawks.”

“Have some faith in my hosting skills, Kurogiri,” 

You watch on in silence as Kurogiri fixes things in a tupperware. Master Shigaraki?

“Sorry about the delay!” Hawks offers, all of a sudden. You look at the plate in front of you, and all the bowls alongside it before looking back towards Hawks. “Thanks for joining us for dinner. Please eat as much as you like and consider this our formal welcome to the neighborhood,” 

Touya laughs hard beside you. “Laying it on thick aren’t you, Keigo?” 

He replies in his unflinchingly calm voice. Touya must really get under his skin though, because you can hear his demeanor crack just barely. “Just being welcoming. Wouldn’t kill you to take a page out of my book, I don’t think,” 

“Enough bickering,” He supplements, throwing his hands up. “Let’s eat,” 

There’s a resounding itadakimasu around the table before the sound of cutlery begins to scrape against the ceramic plates alike. 

For the first time all night, you check into your body and stare down at the plate in front of you. It feels like all your blood is rushing to your ears. Your heart pounds, blood thrumming through your nerves as you examine the plate. There’s a cut of meat on it, tender with herbs - and a side of rice and pickled vegetables. The ceramic plate it’s on is red, a deep sort of maroon. Painted birds decorate the sides along with thin leaves and branches. The other cutlery is nice. Heavy stuff, nothing cheap. Even the chopsticks have good weight. 

You feel out of body as your hand reaches for them, swallowing thickly and not looking up at anyone for any reason. From the corner of your eye, you see Touya who seems to be watching your every move. Hawks doesn’t pay you any mind. You wonder why he’s doing so deliberately. 

You use a spoon to help pick up rice. You eat the vegetables plain. It hurts to chew and swallow even though none of it’s dry. The lemon water you drink from the cold glass cup doesn’t soothe your throat. 

The blonde glances at you. He reaches towards the sake bottle and cups circling the centerpiece of the decor and hands you a glass. “This’ll warm you you,” 

You look at him, and briefly at his plate. He hasn’t touched the meat yet. You take the glass from him and sip in long drinks until you reach the bottom. 

But the feeling doesn’t leave you. You wonder if you’re imagining it. 

It’s meat. Beef, from what they tell you. You look up to see Twice across the table, tearing into the flesh with his teeth - and something inside your gut churns hard. Your focus is unbreaking as you see it. Teeth sinking into flesh. The outside a golden brown but the inside raw and red, fatty and bleeding. Twice’s plate pools with what looks like blood. Steaks bleed, you know that. 

And everyone is eating comfortably, like nothing is wrong. Except Hawks. He has yet to cut into anything. He mimics you. He’s waiting for you to eat first.

“You should eat first,” He goes as far as telling you. His smile gleams. Pearlescent white teeth, golden yellow eyes, blackness in his pupils like oblivion. “Feels a little rude as the host.”

Fuck. Something is wrong. It’s screaming at you. The sound of scraping and chewing and swallowing becomes a cacophony as it grates on your mind. You try your best to be unaffected and drink more sake. You keep your voice calm. 

You won’t panic. You can’t panic. You steel yourself. 

“No no, please - go ahead. I’m a little tired so I don’t feel like chewing, is all. It’s fine, I promise.” You offer, then stare at him. “Eat.” 

He looks at you surprised, and Touya laughs besides you. 

He shrugs though, and eats. Unconcerned with you, with refined manners and well practiced etiquette. Hawks is polite when he eats. 

He cuts through the thick hunk of meat with a sharpened knife in precise, even squares. He’s an expert at it. You watch as the outside cuts open. Underneath the brown is tender red. Bleeding red. It’s practically raw on the inside, blood spilling out from the open slices. It has that soft texture of raw meat. Hawks uses his chopsticks to grab the piece, and it yields underneath the pressure - squished between the ends.

You watch as he chews it. You watch carefully. 

There’s delight in the act of eating. He savors when he chews, slow and deliberate and when he swallows - he seems especially pleased. His expression changes after the first few bites, repeating it over and over. You feel bile rise in your throat. 

“It’s good you know,” Hawks hums, looking at you so deeply you feel suffocated. Flying close to the ground to pin you right when you’re least expecting, how typical. It’s so like him it makes you sick. “You should give it a try,” 

You clear your throat. 

“I will. I uh, I do need to use the restroom though.” You say quickly, trying not to heave. “Where would that be?” 

Touya snorts. “Down the hall on your left.” 

Before he can get a word in edgewise - you bolt. You nearly knock the dining chair over with how swift you carry yourself on your legs. You run, speeding off towards the bathroom. Grabbing the handle you nearly slam the door as you hurry yourself inside.

Your chest feels tight as a sense of nausea overwhelms you, mixed with some morbid sense of relief. You were right. You were right about everything. 

They’re taking body parts - this much you’re sure of. You can think of what they do with them. Selling them is a lucrative business. But eating them? It’s a level of depravity so far beyond your scope - you can’t help but feel nauseated. 

Your hands grip the linoleum sink as the fluorescent lights of the bathroom flicker overhead. Your complexion has gone pale with disgust. Your stomach feels especially tight, soured. It’s almost painful how sick you are. Sweat drips along your back and into your shirt - all down the crown of your head. White knuckling the edge of the sink, you stare into the linoleum and take deep breaths trying not to fucking puke. 

You’re in too deep. You were weeks ago. Maybe the minute you clocked that something was wrong about him, like you’ve seen past a carefully set-up illusion. 

By rights of the illusionist, it’s only inevitable that he comes after you. You either die with his secret or become part of his magic act. 

You don’t know which things he wants more. 

By the time you steady your breathing at all, you hear the bathroom door click open behind you. 

You nearly scream. 

Hawks closes the door behind him. The enclosed space of the bathroom makes your chest ache, as you back into the sink. He looks calm. You ready yourself to run. 

His eyes no longer shine. They’re almost dull, copper in color as he stares at you with a lazed smile. It’s like the mask has all but shattered. Leaving you two in this cramped, airless, stale room. Your stomach clenches, muscles tight with adrenaline. You think of all the ways out, but Hawks leans his weight on the door to keep you from running. 

“Relax,” He offers, no longer pretending. “I won’t hurt you. And you’d rather not get the attention of my housemates, I’m guessing,” 

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You fucking—you eat people?” 

He smiles. “You know, it’s pretty clever of you to figure it out. Most folks here are too stupid to see through it, but you noticed right away. I was really interested in that when we first met,” 

He stands up straight, readying himself to approach you. 

“Stay the fuck away from me,”

He leans against the door and puts his hands up, but not because he’s trying to appear unthreatening. 

“It’s a good gig. Cheap property, more people move in, more business. When someone proves loyalty, they get a cheap mortgage and live for a small price. Up until now, no one just moving has been able to get out of it. Except for the family before yours. Still feel sorry about that one.” 

The dread that washes over nearly has you throwing up. You dry heave. Hawks smile only grows. 

“But you noticed right away, which was interesting. So I started getting intrigued by you. I wondered how far you’d go to find things out, and it was farther than I expected. It’s good to be clever,” Hawks offers. He steps closer to you this time and you go to defend yourself, grabbing something from the counter to hit him with. You find nothing. “Not so good to be nosy. But you couldn’t help yourself, huh? I like the spunk, at least.” 

“You’re a monster,” You say and you mean it. 

“It’s a house full of them. I’m just the spokesperson. And this is a lucrative business practice. My colleagues aren’t the social type, so I handle all the HR. I can’t have some newbie who just moved in fucking the protocol,” Hawks hums, tilting his head at you. “In a way I’m helping you,”

“Helping me? How in the fuck are you helping me?” 

It’s a swift movement where Hawks pins you. You go to move, to hit him - to scream. But Hawks is fast. He’s strong, and completely swift - and when he grabs you to pin you to the sink, you’ve never felt more completely helpless in your life. You bite his hand, but he looks at you steadily. Cold.

“No one will help you even if you scream, so don’t scream,” Hawks reprimands, almost bored. “Cops don’t come here anyways. I would know.” 

He pulls his hand away from you. 

“What do you want from me?” 

Hawks looks surprised then laughs. 

Before you can protest any further, you feel the grip on your arms and body tighten painfully. Hawks ducks his head down against your throat, and in one motion bites. He bites hard. You can feel it break the skin, and that time you scream. You pull away, but his teeth scrape and scrape and scrape till you’re bleeding. 

He sucks the blood and licks the flesh, like someone might eat bone marrow from a carcass. You can feel it then. He’d devour you into nothing if he could - while you’re still all pieced together. You look at his mouth when he pulls away, covered in your blood. Some of the skin he’s taken off, just barely. Your whole body feels feeble as he goes again to lick up and clean the sensitive wound. 

Your knees feel weak as he pulls away. Your blood is on his mouth. There’s surely more on his hands. You feel sick all over again. You’re gonna throw up. 

“It’s simple what I want,” Hawk’s says, and then narrows his eyes at you “I like to play with my food before I eat it,” 

Your eyes narrow. 

“There’s no way  I’d let myself wait around here to be killed.” 

“Who said anything about killing, stranger? Just eating. It’s good practice to eat. We’ll eat together. We’ll eat each other. It’s romantic, don’t you think?” Hawks hums, hugging you to him. And it’s like you’re seeing him for the first time, for exactly what he really is.  “Eating together is a basic facet of a healthy connection.” 

“A healthy connection? You’re insane.” 

He shakes his head. 

“I’m in like. Different things.”

You try again to pull away, but remain stone still in his arms. For now, there’s no escaping. But you thrash and thrash and thrash. It comforts you.

“I’ll never take it lying down.” You tell him, as seriously as you can. 

He gives you a smile. It’s pearly white. It’s unnerving. It’s genuine. Your heart feels heavy as the weight and implications all sink in. Oh, he’ll chase you - if it means getting to eat you alive. 

Thunder strikes the house. The walls shake. July is unwelcoming and gloomy. 

But Hawks’ eyes shine yellow gold like a false sin as he looks down at you in awe. 

“I’m looking forward to it, neighbor.” 

[pinkykats-place]

Takami Keigo // Hawks x Reader

Tumblr Recommendations

Disclaimers!

None of the stories below are mine.

Some contain mature content.

Mostly female readers.

Gif not mine.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“preening”

kiego tatami x fem!reader

Summary: Hawks loves your hair, playing with it, brushing it, washing it. You realize that it comes from another instinctual nature of his. You try to figure out how to return the gesture.

“shiny things”

kiego tatami x fem!reader

summary: hawks has more bird-like tendencies than you initially thought. he likes to present you with odd items as gifts and finally you figure out why

Love to Love You, Baby (nsfw)

Keigo Takami/Hawks x Female Reader 

Summary: “Did anyone request the classic female so helps Hawks with grooming his feathers and he gets horny from because they are pretty sensitive? If not sign me up my good sir!” - Anon 

Warning: Smut, Feather brushing, Fluff, Orgasms, Wing Kink 

Accidental Turn-Ons

Hawks x Dom!Reader

Summary: Hawks returns home from a mission, clearly exhausted, and you take the time to give him a little massage! However, it doesn’t quite have the effects you expected.

A Help Through Heat

SOFT DOM KEIGO TAKAMI X PUPPYGIRL! F READER 

CW/TW: hybrid reader (she has ears, tail, paws, and characteristics of a puppy), cheating (you’ll see), giving oral, general smut, praise, soft dom, dumbification (?), spit, LOTS OF FLUFF AND CUTE PUPPY PLAY.

Spring Fever

Hawks x afab!Reader

Smut Fic 

[epickiya722]

Time for Fate series! Same JP VAs:

Midoriya Izuku = Oda Nobukatsu

Uraraka Ochako and Yanagi Reiko = Medb, Knocknarea, Miyamoto Musashi and Mochizuki Chiyome

Bakugou Katsuki = Yan Qing

Asui Tsuyu, Tsunotori Pony and Tokage Setsuna = Shuten Douji, Ibuki Douji, Okita Souji, Okita Souji (Alter), Jinako Carigiri/Ganesha and Tiamat

Kirishima Eijirou = Mandricardo

Yaoyorozu Momo = Fairy Knight Gawain/Barghest

Hagakure Tooru = Miyu Edelfelt

Aizawa Shouta and Shishida Jurouta = EMIYA (Archer and Archer Alter) and Siegfried

Present Mic = Okada Izou

Intelli Saiko = Gray

Nakagame Tatami = Kingprotea

Shigaraki Tomura = Amakusa Tokisada Shirou

Toga Himiko = Osakabehime

Takami Keigo/Hawks = Prototype Gilgamesh, David and Rengoku (please do not confused him with the KnY one)

Togata Mirio = Matou Kariya

We're still missing Kaji Yuuki (Todoroki Shouto), Kitamura Eri (Ashido Mina), Hanataka Tasuku (Kaminari Denki), Miyake Kenta (All Might), Yasuno Kiyono (Hadou Nejire) and Uemura Yuuto (Amajiki Tamaki).

I think I heard of that, but never actually watched it.

But I swear, everywhere I look it's like almost every VAs in BNHA has worked together on another project. Sub and dub, I watch anime in both. (Watching SerVamp was unreal when a year or so later I started BNHA...)

They're doing group projects, just on different subjects!

[shadowsphere]

☼Sphere's BNHA Masterlist☼

"𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥. “𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥” “𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭”. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴! 𝘚𝘺𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦? 𝘏𝘢𝘩! 𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘶𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦." -𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘪 𝘛𝘰𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘢 "𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 - 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴, 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘦𝘴, 𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 - 𝘵𝘰 𝘝𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘴. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘻𝘦𝘯𝘴. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯." -𝘝.𝘌. 𝘚𝘤𝘩𝘸𝘢𝘣

☀︎ - 𝘚𝘮𝘶𝘵 ☁︎ - 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 ⛅︎ - 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

🔮U.A.

☼ Shota Aizawa (Eraser Head) ☼ Nemuri Kayama (Midnight) ☼ Mina Ashido ☼ Tsuyu Asui ☼ Tenya Ida ☼ Ochaco Uraraka ☼ Mashirao Ojiro ☼ Denki Kaminari ☼ Eijiro Kirishima ☼ Mezo Shoji ☼ Kyoka Jiro ☼ Hanta Sero ☼ Fumikage Tokoyami ☼ Shoto Todoroki ☼ Katsuki Bakugo ☼ Izuku Midoriya ☼ Momo Yaoyorozu ☼ Sen Kaibara ☼ Shihai Kuroiro ☼ Itsuka Kendo ☼ Yui Kodai ☼ Ibara Shiozaki ☼ Kosei Tsuburaba ☼ Setsuna Tokage ☼ Neito Monoma ☼ Neijire Hado ☼ Tamaki Amajaki ☼ Yuyu Haya ☼ Hitoshi Shinso ☼ Mei Hatsume ☼ Oboro Shirakumo (Loud Cloud)

🔮Ketsubutsu

☼ Emi Fukukado (Ms. Joke) ☼ Yo Shindo ☼ Tatami Nakagame

🔮Shiketsu

☼ Cami Utsushimi

🔮Seiai

☼ Saiko Intelli

🔮Pro Heroes

☼ Keigo Takami (Hawks) ☼ Rumi Usagiyama (Mirko) ☼ Ryuko Tatsuma (Ryukyu) ☼ Yu Takeyama (Mt. Lady) ☼ Masaki Mizushima (Manual) ☼ Shino Sosaki (Mandalay) ☼ Uwabami ☼ Clair Voyance ☼ Tomoko Shiretoko (Ragdoll) ☼ Kaina Tsutsumi (Lady Nagant) ☼ Nana Shimura

🔮Villains

☼ Goto Imasuji (Jailbreaker) ☼ Nine

🔮LOV

☼ Tomura Shigaraki ☼ Touya Todoroki (Dabi) ☼ Himiko Toga

🔮Meta Liberation

☼ Koku Hanabata (Trumpet)

🔮Yakuza

☼ Kai Chisaki (Overhaul)

🔮Vigiliantes

☼ Kazuho Haneyama (Pop☆Step) ☼ Soga Kugisaki

🔮One For All Users

☼ Kudo

🔮Civilians

☼ Mitsuki Bakugo ☼ Inko Midoriya ☼ Kotaro Shimura ☼ Nao Shimura ☼ Rei Todoroki ☼ Fuyumi Todoroki ☼ Natsuo Todoroki

[ao3feed-hawks]

This Side of Paradise

This Side of Paradise by SatelliteBlue

Dabi is in the strange position of hiding from his past by being really, ridiculously obvious to everyone from his past on national TV. With the League bar a smoking ruin, he jumps straight from The Bachelorette into Bachelor In Paradise with the hope that the program's “secret” location and army of bodyguards will keep him from being kidnapped a second time… or. Well. A third time, really. He just needs to play it cool, but that's hard when Hawks has followed him to Paradise too, and Dabi can't seem to concentrate on any of the other contestants.

Hawks is in the strange position of playing secret bodyguard for the man he's fallen for, because the only other informants for the HPSC's darkest secrets have either disappeared or been killed. This piles more angst on top of his already-confusing crush. Is he even allowed to have a crush? Emotions are hard. Hawks is suffering.

Meanwhile Natsuo is horrified but vindicated when he learns that the details of his brother's death were forged; half of the U.A. staff is on the hunt for Oboro Shirakumo, who called into a radio show despite being dead for over ten years; and the League may not be villains, but they don't take an insult laying down.

Words: 2840, Chapters: 1/10, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of Will You Accept This Rose?

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M

Relationships: Dabi | Todoroki Touya/Takami Keigo | Hawks, Aiba Manami | La Brava/Tobita Danjuurou | Gentle Criminal, Nakagame Tatami/Shindou You, Todoroki Fuyumi/Usagiyama Rumi | Miruko, Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - The Bachelorette, Slow Burn, League of Villains as a band, Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Manga Spoilers, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Angst, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Mutual Pining, the strangest witness protection program known to humankind, Hero Public Safety Commission Bashing, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor's Bad Parenting, Past Child Abuse, Trauma, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42672750

[leoinjapan]

４月２３年•富士山

after a couple of chaotic days in tokyo, we headed to mt fuji for an overnight break. we took a bus from shinjuku to kawaguchiko, a lake overlooking the mountain, leaving our suitcases in shinjuku station. when the mountain came into view, we all gasped!

i got udon for lunch, while mum got eel and amber got salmon. then we headed to the hotel which was only 10 minutes away. we waited in the lounge with free snacks and refreshments until we were shown to our beautiful room. it was half western, half traditional with western beds and a futon and tatami.

we also had our own bath with a view of the mountain, pumping naturally hot spring water from the hot spring below. bathing in this water healed our bodies and souls. after bathing we went to the observation deck and watched the sunset

for dinner we had kaiseki which is a very special meal served at ryokan, traditional japanese inns. we thought we could handle the seafood but it was a bit much for us! the meal included local fruit and veg, fish, crab, sea snails, miso soup and chawanmushi

mum and amber made use of the public hot springs, which are outside and have a view of a waterfall. i used the private bath because i have bigger tattoos which aren't allowed. at night we relaxed in our yukata robes with free alcohol (including umeshu, plum wine)

in the morning we missed the breakfast buffet, but the lovely staff allowed us to eat it in our room. i tried to speak japanese during the whole stay but at some point i had to admit defeat and said my keigo (formal speech) was bad 😭

after checking out we got sakura sodas and then headed for the famous chureito pagoda. it was a hike to get up the hill but worth it for the beautiful views. the line to the observation deck was way too long but we still got some beautiful pictures

a lot of cafes were closed so we got lunch from 7-eleven (kitsune udon and a hash brown for me) and some dango (rice cakes) with soy sayce. then we headed back to shinjuku. i will never forget this night of utter luxury!

[ao3feed-bnha-rarepair]

Advent of the Stork.

Advent of the Stork. by Sc0r3cr0w

Words: 914, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M

Characters: Class 1-A, Class 1-B, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Eri, Fukukado Emi | Ms. Joke, Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Shinsou Hitoshi, Kan Sekijirou | Vlad King, Akaguro Chizome | Stain, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Todoroki Rei, Todoroki Natsuo, Todoroki Fuyumi, Takami Keigo | Hawks, Yoarashi Inasa, Shishikura Seiji, Shindou You, Nakagame Tatami, Utsushimi Camie, Toga Himiko, Takeyama Yuu | Mount Lady, Toyomitsu Taishirou | Fat Gum, Midoriya Inko, Bakugou Mitsuki, Bakugou Masaru, Tsukauchi Naomasa, Iida Tensei | Ingenium, Hatsume Mei, Maijima Higari | Power Loader

Relationships: Asui Tsuyu/Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki/Uraraka Ochako, Hatsume Mei/Iida Tenya, Mineta Minoru/Shiozaki Ibara, Todoroki Shouto/Yaoyorozu Momo, Ashido Mina/Kirishima Eijirou, Jirou Kyouka/Kaminari Denki, Hagakure Tooru/Ojiro Mashirao

Additional Tags: Original Character(s), Next Generation

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43698738

[regina-zac]

[writerbyaccident]

The Pouting Game (Yandere Hawks/Keigo Takami x Reader)

           Hawks had been pouting all night long.

           Ever since he came home from work, he had been pouting, begging you to ask him what was wrong without even saying a word of it. No, all he needed to do to let you know was to purse his lips on an exaggerated frown and let his red wings droop onto the floor. That and, of course, dragging his feet loudly throughout the entirety of the penthouse. Reading a book on the couch, you did your best to ignore him, as you usually did, but Hawks refused to be ignored.

           Flopping onto the couch, Hawks flashed you a scowl that would have had villains running for the safety of prison. It was no wonder then that you froze in the middle of turning a page, a reaction that Hawks seemed to approve of, considering how quick he was to grab you by the waist (pausing only to tear the book out of your hands and throw it to the floor) and pull you onto his lap. Straddling him as you now were, Hawks’ still excessively mopey face was front and center before you, and when you tried to move your gaze to a spot on the wall, Hawks just grabbed your chin and forced your eyes back to his.

           “Why are you ignoring me?” Hawks whined as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, nuzzling you softly.

           Too distracted by the gentle caress of his lips against your skin, you didn’t bother trying to push him away. Instead, you simply answered, “You know exactly why.”

“No, I don’t. Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

“Well, you kidnapped me for starters,” you said tightly.

“You’re still on that? Angel, we’ve talked about that,” Hawks cooed, placing a tender kiss on your neck. “You know that it’s not kidnapping when you’re brought home where you belong. That’s just me taking care of my little lovebird. If anything, it was the rest of the world who was kidnapping you from me, trying to keep you away from the one person who loves you.”

There wasn’t anything you could really say to that, nothing that Hawks would hear anyway, so your only response was to fidget away from him. Well, you tried anyway, but Hawks wasn’t about to let you get away that easily. Not when it was so easy for him to just wrap his wings around you, pushing you back into his chest with a strength that nothing else could have matched.

“Come on, angel, don’t be like that,” he grumbled, sounding half like a parent arguing with a petulant child and half like said child himself. “Acting all bratty isn’t going to make either of us happy.”

“You think that I’m acting bratty?”

“Well, yeah,” he chuckled, his lips making their way slowly up your neck until they reached the shell of your ear. “What else would you call it when someone’s so pissed off they won’t even let their boyfriend touch them? I can see that you’re upset, babe, but that’s no reason to pout. So how about you just tell me what it is that’s really bothering you, and I can make it up to you.”

“I can’t believe—”

“Are you mad that I’ve been working late, is that it? You’re upset that I haven’t been around as much as I should. Can’t say I blame you for that, my heart damn near breaks every time I’ve gotta go to work and leave you behind.”

“Tell you what,” he purred, pausing for just a moment to nibble your earlobe, “how about I call in sick tomorrow, and we can make up for all that time apart.”

“That—that’s not what I want,” you told him, unable to keep the breathiness out of your voice from the way that Hawks was nipping and sucking on your neck so fervently. Rather than go back to pouting when he heard your response as you fully expected him to, you felt his lips curl into a smile against your skin.

           “Aw, baby, you can give up the game now. You can’t fool me, no matter how hard you pout. It’s obvious that you need some old-fashioned quality time with your man, and I’m more than happy to give it to you,” Hawks crooned in your ear, enveloping his wings ever tighter around you.

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[kiritenyas]

cute bnha things i learned this week:

tatami and shindou are dating ;A;

hawks’ real name is takami keigo (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

natsuo loves his girlfriend a lot :(

shouji wears his mask to avoid scaring anyone

geten is a really pretty long-haired dude that has silky smooth white hair and elegant long lashes

[beachbeibi]

Lost & Found part 6

Quirkless AU with Todoroki siblings, big bro Touya, and Dabihawks BUT IT’S COMPLICATED

Please do not repost or reupload without permission and please DO NOT RE-UPLOAD TO YOUTUBE, WHY WOUD YOU DO THAT.

Part 5 I Part 4 I Part 3 I Part 2 I Part 1

[sugoi-writes]

A Needed Escape (Hawks x Reader)

Just note that this is... a bit self-indulgent??? Not overwhelmingly, but even so! There’s that! We got a sliiiight slow burn too, and some fluff!

>2.5k, and sappy as hell! Please enjoy!

You sat by the window sill, leaning on it as you stared blankly through the foggy glass. You blink slowly, a sigh smoothly leaving your chest . You weren’t tense. You weren’t even really sure how you were feeling right now... You just knew that you felt a sense of longing. A very dull ache that resonated in your mind, yet your chest felt empty. You welcomed the feeling, as it was better than the intensity you felt when you were stressed or anxious. 

Your cheek found itself resting on the palm of your hands, cupping your face perfectly as you blinked again. You wondered… what should you do today? What should you be doing right now?

Sure, there were many things that you could or should be doing right now, but it was undeniable: you were drained. You were so drained mentally and physically that you didn’t have the heart to do much of anything, but sit and wonder in silence.

You catch something out of the corner of your eye, your gaze flicking to it instantly. You were startled, stiffening when you couldn’t identify what you saw. And yet, you remained seated. After a few seconds of stillness, you figured that it was your mind playing tricks on you. It was just you, and the sound of ambient suburban outside. 

And yet, there came a light tapping from across the room. You look over, knowing it came from another window. You shrugged your blanket off of your shoulders, before your breath hitched. 

He was here. Out of all the things you were expecting… you were not expecting Keigo, smiling at you tiredly from outside your window. 

You’re quickly hop to your feet, jogging over to open your window. You look around hesitantly, giving Hawks a suspicious look,” S-Someone could see you, y’know… w-what are you doing here???”

You hardly had a chance to question him further before he spoke,” Well, I was in the neighborhood, and I got that sense, y’know? ‘That it was gonna start raining soon.” 

Your shoulders relax for a moment, before you give him a knowing smile,” So… you’re trying to keep your wings dry, huh? Need a place to hunker down for a while?” 

Hawks shrugs,” I’d prefer that, but… I know you’ve had some cabin fever lately because of… everything going on right now. Hell, even I’m barely allowed to go out much…” the winged hero admits, before smiling sweetly to you. 

“Whether I get a little wet or not, I figured you could use some company.” You glance away from Hawks, hugging yourself while pursing your lips. It was odd… it was like he knew that you were a little restless. No— was discontent a better word?

You pick your head up, before grinning up at him,” Okay, I’ll bite. Would you… wanna go to the usual spot?” you quip, reaching out to him. Hawks takes your hand gently, helping you out of the window. He catches you as you stumble, his powerful wings moving in a steady rhythm to help the two of you aloft. You feel how warm his chest is against your timid hands, but you cling to him anyway as he wraps his arms around you. 

“Sure thing, Kid… but don’t get your pants in a twist when the rain comes down on us.” 

You could feel the smirk on his face as you roll your eyes. He’s remarked in the past that they would get stuck like that because of him. But the two of you didn’t tease one another as Hawks set off, taking you toward an all-too-familiar place. 

.

.

.

Every once in a while, maybe a few times a month, the two of you decide to meet up like this to blow off some steam. There would be no hums of automobiles or bustling people, urgently trying to get home. The steady, dull ring of life resonated in your chest, your hands, your head, and even your heart. Sometimes, you just needed to distance yourself, as far away as you could, to reconnect to nature and yourself. Although, you could admit that it was always nice to spend this time in peace with a certain winged hero, too.

You glance up at him, his eyes far-off and almost glazed over. Your mouth falls agape, a bit startled by the expression. You wanted to call to him, but he had already felt your gaze. He seemed lost in thought, or perhaps, in a similar predicament that you were. 

He flashes you a reassuring smile, before returning his gaze to the horizon, his wings settling on a even, level glide. You look away, opting to face into his chest once more. You close your eyes, still wrestling with what was the most nerve wracking part about the trip: the height that you flew at… or being this close to Keigo? 

Either way, you knew that these strong arms that surrounded you would never dream of letting you go. At least, while you were flying... You inhale slowly, marveling in the warmth that enveloped you and your chest. You tuck your head closer to Hawks’ chest and bite your lip. What was that about…? You were thinking dangerous thoughts again….

But before you could scold yourself anymore, you feel a low rumble in Hawks’ chest. He speaks to you smoothly,” We’re here, Kid.” 

You could only bring yourself to nod, unable to pull away from Keigo’s chest to speak to him. You turn your head, making eye contact with a cove: your ideal location to get away. You and Hawks would be over looking the vast sea, on the rocky cliff that was mounted in the center of the crescent-shaped cove. 

.

.

.

When Hawks touches down, ever so gently, you let go of the winged hero. You scold yourself again, realizing that your grip on him may have been a bit more than necessary. Keigo takes you by the shoulders for a moment, a soft chortle leaving him as he brings you back to your senses,” The wind really did a number on you… ‘that why you were squeezing so tight?”

A sudden heat fills your cheeks, as you shrug off his hands,” Y-Yeah, the current was a little rough, y’know…. the rain and all,” you excuse, adjusting your shirt and cardigan. He seems to take your word for it, but something in his eyes indicates otherwise. Regardless, he gestures towards the cliff’s edge,” Of course… After you, Kid.”

You return the warm smile offered to you, taking your seat to the right. He takes the left. And after a moment, the two of you gaze out towards the sea. You bring your legs to your chest, sighing gently as you observe the water below. The waves, unsurprisingly, were very choppy and chaotic. The loud crash of the waves was all you heard around you, a sound that you welcomed full heartedly. Your let go of all of your concerns and questions… and just gaze forward.

“Looks like it’s already helping,” Keigo offers softly. You hadn’t realized he was looking directly at you. You nod, humming in acknowledgement. You don’t offer much of a response past this, the smell of the rain filling your sinuses. You close your eyes for a moment, the crisp scent of the ocean mingling with the wind of the storm. Keigo smiles, satisfied with your answer. You don’t notice him scooting closer to you, as thunder rumbles in the distance. 

You continue to gaze absentmindedly, longingly towards the horizon. Your mind wanders back to the warmth that you had just moments ago. The tender, safe arms that surrounded you as the air whipped past your face. You stiffen once more, a flush returning to your cheeks. You secretly craved the warm embrace of the man beside you, as you felt the air grow cooler. The rain was nearly upon you. 

You bunch up into a tighter ball, bracing yourself. You typically liked the feeling, the cool licks welcome on your skin… but all you wanted was Keigo.

As you open your eyes again, you feel yourself being pulled to your left. Your eyes widen as your head makes contact with Keigo’s shoulder, a crimson wing coming to wrap around you. You glance up quickly, noting that his right wing had you almost completely sheltered. You look towards Hawks’ face, his gaze still facing forward. You marvel at the light flush that graced his cheeks, his face radiating a warmth that rivaled his body. You hesitate, unsure of why he would do this, and why he would want you this close… but you decide that maybe you should let things be. You would be lying if you said you didn’t welcome the new feeling. You fully relax against him, your arms releasing your legs as they sprawl lazily about you. The both of you were comfortable, content…

Meanwhile, the rain was hardly hitting you at all, Hawks’ wings proving to be a rather effective shelter. You feel him shudder slightly, his wings probably cold and unhappy with the unforgiving rain. Of course, he dismisses his urge to shake out his wings and continues to sit with you. You swallow an imaginary lump that formed in your throat, before breaking the silence.

”Can I… get closer?” you whisper, your voice nearly lost amongst the sounds of the storm and the sea. Hawks doesn’t seem to react much, chuckling softly,” Sure… gotta stay warm if we’ll be here for a bit.” 

You nod, and turn your body towards him. He sighs quietly, his arm lowering to loop around your waist. You wordlessly wrap your arms around his torso, your legs coming to bump against Hawks’ right leg. You curl inwards, your head now settled on his chest. His hand hesitates, before running a soothing circle into your back. You hum gently at the contact, closing your eyes again. Once more, you break the silence after a few moments of sincere bliss.

“Where… is this coming from… all the sudden?” you ask quietly, as if talking any louder would ruin the moment. Keigo actually chokes back a laugh,” Sudden???” 

He closes his eyes as he rubs your back, a breath that he held on to finally rolling off of his chest,” If you think this is sudden… Wow, Kid… You’re a little oblivious, huh?” 

You blink a few times, sitting up slightly. Hawks gives you a questioning look, wanting nothing more than to pull you back down,” What? I’m being serious here. Do you really think that I haven’t been wanting this? This whole time?” You freeze in place as Hawks’ voice takes on a warm, genuine quality. No sarcasm. No acidic bite, and no flowery language. This WAS Keigo being serious. 

You almost push him away, but your desire to be close and sheltered outweighs your doubts”…this… whole time?” you repeat, receiving a small nod from Hawks. He lets go of your cheek, opting to lay his hand on your shoulder,” I know… there’s always been the elephant in the room. About us. About what we are… But I know that right now, your mind is somewhere else entirely.”

When he sees the look of confusion spread across your face, he huffs as his blush intensifies,” A-All I’m saying is… you don’t have to pull away. We don’t have to talk about it yet. And if you just want to consider this as a kindness from the storm, then that’s fine too. But as long as we’re here… I don’t mind— actually… I want you… to be close like this.”

You felt your chest seize, lip quivering slightly at the weight of his words. The weight of his feelings are crashing over you. You stare back at him, a spark in your eyes. 

You swallow the lump in your throat again, scooting closer to him. Hawks allows you, pulling his wings tighter around the both of you until the outside world is completely blocked out. Your gaze falls to his lips momentarily, as you feel his warm breath stutter for a moment. You were close… SO very close. 

“ I wouldn’t say that my mind… is in a completely different place…” you admit sheepishly, gazing back into golden, watchful eyes. You notice another stammer in his breathing, as he is no doubt taken back by your words. You place your hands on his thighs, leaning even closer. 

“If you have a request… then I do too,” you continue, your gaze flicking to his lips once more,” …please… can I—?” Before you can finish, Keigo’s lips meet yours, suddenly but tenderly. The moment they meet is the moment they part, the both of you sitting in stunned silence. 

“…yes… yes you can,” Hawks rasps, his hands falling to you waist. You smile sweetly back at him, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks. The distance between you closes again, as your heartbeats stabilize and match intensity. You can feel each other’s every movement: every twitch, every sigh, every hitch in your breaths, and every mewl that quietly escapes your entwined lips. 

The moment you part again, the both of you are disheveled, gazing back at one another with whimsical, dreamy eyes. You both laugh breathlessly, basking in the first of many kisses to be had. You hands move from Keigo’s face to his shoulders, as the both of you regain your composure. 

“…we might as well sort this out while we’re here, then… There’s no one around to judge or hear us…,” Hawks chimes, his hands squeezing your waist. You shudder, the warm of his hands sending pleasant shivers down your spine. 

“…I-I’d like that… I would be lying if I said that you weren’t on my mind…” you admit, your arms looping around his neck. A familiar smirk stretches across his face, followed by a quick peck and a chuckle. 

“Well, I can do my best to ease whatever worries you have… I’m not going anywhere… and if I do… I’d like to, with you by my side.” 

The both of you laugh without restraint, bodies crashing into one another in a happy, touch starved embrace. Sometimes, you don’t have to sort your problems out with journals, or meditation. Sometimes, you have to face them head on. And much to your relief… you know exactly where you stand with your avian hero. And you quivered with glee at the possibilities that awaited you both.

Neither of you heard the sounds of the angry sea or the lulling storm, completely drowned out by your excited murmurs and tender promises. The two of you spent hours on the cliff side, reveling in a rekindled affection for one another. All bets were off, and both parties had their cards on the table. You FINALLY told each other how you felt, through your actions and your heartfelt words.

[saridellart]

happy birthday bird boy !

➡️ Don’t steal, edit, repost and use my art ⬅️

[hawnks]

coincide pt iv

previous

r18

hawks (tatami keigo) x reader

word count: ~4,800

Well, that figures.

[soulmate au, slow burn, UST as a plot device, avian keigo, possessiveness, desperation]

warning: canon-typical violence

beta’d by: @izuukii my beloved

....................................................................................................................

You buy the magazine with the semi-explicit centerfold, just to punish yourself. You think maybe you’ll rip out those pages, with Keigo and the beautiful model, lip locked and gleaming, hang them on your fridge or something. Tape it to your bathroom mirror if you’re really feeling masochistic. But it just sits there at the bottom of your bag, slowly getting buried beneath a hoard of receipts.

The cover is something innocuous. A movie star promoting an upcoming release. He’s handsome, you suppose, though it’s almost gotten hard to tell these days. You’re so wrapped up in Keigo that it’s hard to see anything else beyond his blinding, boyish good looks.

Even that centerfold spread just makes you feel numb now, every time you flip it open. All you can see is your birdman, charmingly aloof. Inaccessible. It becomes a new kind of punishment, to carry it around with you as you run errands, sit at the office, meet your friend for location scouting for her upcoming nuptials. Keigo, glassy eyed and oiled up. Just an image on the page.

Though you’d rather be looking at that than another gorgeous, ivy threaded trellis. The venues are all beautiful. Your friend has an eye for this sort of thing, the perfect balance between comfort and luxe. What will look good in memoriam, photos hung on walls in guest rooms, years down the line.

“Perfect,” you say, for the third time today. “The place is perfect.”

“But is it perfect enough?” she returns, laughing at your good natured eye roll.

She’s always been more A-type than you’ve known what to do with, dragged along for her antics. The only thing she’s ever been devil-may-care about was the subject of soulmates. The drunken promises she’d made to you had all been spur of the moment. Who needs ‘em? We’ll love each other, forever, and twice as hard.

It was a defense mechanism, you’d later come to realize, and one swiftly snuffed out when the man in question finally arrived in her life.

“What does he think?” you ask her. “Mr. Soulmate.”

He does some big important job, and works long hours for it. He left this part of the wedding planning in the both of your capable hands. It feels almost nostalgic, just the two of you again. Like reminiscing in present tense.

Your friend admits wryly that she couldn’t name his favorite color, and she’s not sure what his favorite of the bunch would be. But it doesn’t matter, and she knows this though she won’t admit it. Because it’s a given that their tastes would run similar, and even if they don’t, he’ll love her too much to care about the table dressings.

Of this, all soulmates could be sure.

You trail after her like a ghost, offering offhanded advice, and quick jokes when she needs them. In the back of your mind a notion broils. Not unkindly, you think you know where Keigo would have liked to end up. You wouldn’t have to guess his favorite color.

Your friend can sense your curiosity at her situation— she was always good at sensing your moods.  

“It’s nice,” she tells you, finally back in her car. The day has been long, but successful. She’d sent pictures of her ultimate choice to the missing fiance, met with about a hundred thumbs up emoticons. “It’s… comfortable.”

You didn’t ask, but you’re happy to listen. To garner more information about this intangible they inhabit.

“I know that’s unsexy,” she continues, “But my god, is it good.”

“It sounds like it,” you agree.

She looks at you, seeming to realize her mistake. But she was never one to bullshit you. “It is. It so, so is.”

And, despite everything, you’re glad. Glad this thing, sacred and wonderful exists in the world. That you can look at it, admire it like a hothouse flower, or a painting hung in a museum. It’ll take your breath away for as long as you let it. Then you move on.

…

Kirishima has been acting strange. He’s still the chivalrous, kindhearted man you’ve come to know and love, but with an edge. Like he’s constantly waiting for something to jump out at him, like he has to be ready for a fight at any second.

He’d been gone for two full days, fighting, taking care of something the commission has been very careful to keep under wraps. Now that things have cooled off, he’s on desk duty.

It’s almost exhausting to look at, as he shuffles into your office, paying you a dry smile and a wave before slumping into his desk chair.

It’s all paperwork for him today, and you take the opportunity to play secretary, helping him sort through files and get everything in order.

There’s an almost shocking amount of incident reports to fill out. Something must have gone wrong. Very wrong. You hardly understand any of it, so many of the words are coded or redacted. You’re not sure how Kirishima is making sense of things, either, but he barely seems to be reading things at all, just filling in the appropriate information before shoving them back in the 2xl Manila envelope they came from.

You’ve learned not to pry when it comes to hero business. That you’re even doing this via hard copy must mean something. It’s too delicate to even risk the chance of being hacked. Kirishima trusts you to know when something is being kept secret. Mostly, it’s for a good reason.

You don’t want to know, anyway— not after last time.

Kirishima probably doesn’t want to know, either.

It weighs on him, what he can’t control. What he can do nothing to fix. His quirk isn’t built for espionage. He’s good for fighting, and for protecting. But not for the needle-fine recon that seems to be surrounding him lately.

That’s more suited for —

“Can I ask you something?” he interrupts your train of thought, almost shyly. Most of the morning has dwindled away, spent hunched over his desk together. It’s been silent for a good half hour, only the distant murmur of office noises beyond the door to break up the quiet.

“Yeah, of course,” you respond.

He looks strangely sheepish, almost nervous. But his gaze is steadfast, steeled. He’s been thinking about this for a while.

“What do you want?” His blush is immediate. He waves a hand so quick to dispel the idea that it wafts your hair. “That came out wrong, sorry. I just— like, in general? What are your goals, I guess?”

“I’m happy here, Kiri,” you tell him, with a smile. And you are. You’re good at your job, and you like it. You like Kirishima and his staff. You like the view from your office, the city sprawled beneath you, a thousand tent-pole highrises, holding up the sky.

“Not with work. I mean, life, yknow?” He traces a finger over the surface of his desk. The cleaning crew had just wiped it down, and the surface is so polished it gleams, reflective and bright.

To be loved. The answer, it’s purity and ferocity, nearly chokes you. You pause, hands stilled on a stack of papers that’s mostly black. Only a few key words stand out among the crossed out portion. S-rank. No leads. Motive unclear.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “This is inappropriate.”

You almost laugh. The two of you have come this far, and yet the concept of anything beyond the walls of the agency is still so far away. “Are you worried about me, boss man?”

He nods, a quick, jerking thing. “ ‘M worried about everything.”

You consider him, across from you. How large he is. Inherently powerful, even without his quirk. “I’m markless,” you say.

You turn away before you catch his expression, tapping your paper stack back into neatness.

“It’s not some big huge tragedy,” you say, forcing humor into your voice. “It’s just how it is. I don’t have anyone holding me back.”

His fist clenches on the desktop. Massive, trembling ever so slightly.

Afraid. All for your sake. Because no matter how forward thinking anyone is, the concept of unknown, of loneliness, is terrifying.

It makes you want to cry.

You smile at him. Say, “So I’m gonna do what I want.”

“And what is that?” he replies, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it.

You hum, considering. Then you rifle through your desk drawer, toss him the pamphlet for the sushi place up the block. “Rainbow roll?”

“On it,” he returns, already punching in the number.

…

You know from his texts that Keigo will want to crash as soon as he gets in. The banter is less quick, the messages all taking on an earnest edge.

Something is happening in the hero world.

You don’t ask.

He arrives at your doorway, ruffled, drooping, and hauls you into his arms. He’s still in his uniform, came directly here from the agency. You bury your face in the fur lining of his jacket, not as soft as you expect it to be, but good insulation. It tickles your nose, incentive to crawl deeper into his embrace, until your cheek is flush against his throat, until he’s curled around you like a lily leaf.

“Mmmm,” he murmurs. “Missed you.”

The two of you stay like that in the doorway of your apartment longer than you can keep track. Time seems to peter out, leaving the two of you, alone in the universe. Warm and tight and together.

You only release him when you feel more of his weight drop into your hold. He’s flagging, about to fall asleep in your hallway.

You pull away slightly, enough that he can maintain a loose hold on you, and start shuffling inside.

He follows you listlessly, going where you go without question. You lead him to your bedroom, arrange him so he’s sitting on your mattress, at an easy height for you to peel him out of his jacket. His wings are difficult to work around but he helps you instinctively, bending them in ways you didn’t know wings could bend, until the garment is limp in your hands.

You think about keeping it, hiding it in your closet and playing dumb if he asks about it. Putting it on when things get lonely. He must have other’s, at the agency. They get destroyed with a frequency that almost supports mass production. He wouldn’t mind, if you didn’t give it back. If you kept it cloistered in the back of your closet or under your bed like some kind of charm to ward off whatever misery of marklessness is coming next.

But that’s crazy. You can’t do that.

You dump the jacket at the door on top of his boots, and go through your own nightly ablutions.

Even this feels haunted, the tidying up before bed. You’re reminded, achingly, of the last time he was here, and you were under the hot pounding of the shower. How you punished him for what you wanted. How you wanted it to hurt.

It’s crazy. You’re crazy.

And the worst part is that guilt isn’t even the primary thing you’re feeling about that night. Mostly it’s — relief. That he wanted you. That something hungry and eager in you can touch something hungry and eager in him. Maybe it’s not love; that’s fine. Because at least it’s something.

You tamp down the thoughts of that last night, come back into your room freshly clean and in a loose pair of pajamas.

Keigo takes up your whole bed.

He’s not exactly a big man — he could fit comfortably if not for his massive wings. He’s laying on his stomach and they sprawl across the entire space, even spilling over the side and draping on the floor. If you weren’t so tired you would find it kind of beautiful.

As it is, you only have the energy to tap him on the calf, again, harder, when all you get in response is a groan.

“What is it babe?” he mumbles. He doesn’t open his eyes, but tilts his face toward you, an approximation of listening.

“You’re too big,” you tell him, flicking him now, when all he does is grin sleepily in response.

You wait to see if he does anything, moves, makes a little quip. But he’s dead asleep, his breathing gone deep and steady.

You’re hardly awake yourself now, and you see no other recourse.

You hike yourself up on the bed, over him. You crawl on top of him, arranging yourself so you’re completely aligned, between his wings, ribcage to ribcage. He’s warm. Of course he is. You know the feeling of him like this, and you recall, drowsily, the last time you were here. How it felt to surround him, weigh him down. How it felt to be able to touch so freely.

You press your face against his nape, breathing him in. He doesn’t exactly smell good, unshowered after an exhausting day. But he smells like Keigo, still, beneath the musk. You relax into him, settling down and syncing. Until your chests expand in a covert rhythm, each breath you both take echoes of the others. A cycle that warms you from the inside out, lulls you into a deep sleep.

…

For the first time since you’ve known him, Keigo sleeps in.

You’re awake before him, doing your best to crawl off without waking him. You put a pot of coffee on, then start getting ready for the day.

It’s only a few minutes after you leave him that Keigo appears in the bathroom doorway, peering at you as you wash your face. You glance back at him in the mirror, paying him a small smile.

“Morning, sleepy.”

A faint blush dusts his cheeks. He smiles back, but says nothing. Just watches you as you continue your routine.

You’d read about a study they’d done on him, once. A biologist, looking at the shape and texture of his wings. They were hardly hawk wings at all, more akin to eagles than anything. And the color was unlike anything at all.

Still, it proved something. Keigo, Hawks, is a predator. You can see it in him now, the perfect stillness of his body as stares, barely even breathing. Did they train this into him, or is it innate? Has he always known how to be a shadow?

You want to tell him to come in, maybe sit on the toilet seat, get comfortable. Maybe hop in the shower now, if he doesn’t want to talk. But that would be pushing things, wouldn’t it. You’re making too many assumptions, asking for too much.

He wants to stand there and watch you, so you let him. You don’t ask any questions.

You do, however, ask him to grab the lipbalm from your bag in the living room.

He comes back with the whole thing in hand, unabashedly rifling through it. He seems to know that you won’t care about him investigating the contents, and you don’t. You hardly spare him a glance, after he hands you the tube of balm, as he continues to sift through things.

You’ve always been a bit of a packrat, holding onto things way longer than necessary. Your purse is a prime example, filled to the brim with useless items, collected over the last few years. It could take a person a whole day to pick through it all, but Keigo stops after a few minutes, setting the bag aside, holding something up for you to look at.

It’s the magazine, the one with the centerfold spread.

You think maybe you should feel guilty, looking at him with the thing limp in his hand. Instead you just want to see how he’ll react, what he’ll say about him and that woman, the intimate photograph.

“You look good in it,” you say with a shrug, a smile.

His hand flexes, wrumpling the pages slightly, creating a crease right down the middle. “I didn’t know it was going to be like that. I mean, I didn’t know I was going to be photographed at all that day but…”

What is he trying to prove? That he wouldn’t use his stardom for anything unsavory?

You wouldn’t judge him, if he did. He’s young and beautiful -- why shouldn’t he have some fun.

But his expression is serious as it scans your face, your mussed clothes and soft body, your bare feet and wild hair. You’d never look like his partner on the page. Even on your best day, you’d never be that, so beautiful it’s almost alien. A perfect counterpoint to Keigo’s unearthly handsomeness.

Still, he looks at you standing here in the bathroom in the soft morning light, and he says, “I wish it was you.”

What does that mean? How are you supposed to take it? His fist is curved into the magazine’s covering, crinkling it irreparably. You’d have to throw this one out, get a new one, if you really wanted it.

He says, even quieter. “It would have been better, if it were you.”

You want to do it, prove it. You want to kiss him breathless, tug on his collar until he comes down to your height. It would be better, because it wouldn’t be for vanity, not preformative in the slightest. Just the damp heat of mouth on mouth, the wild, careless desperation that seems to tint all your encounters.

But it all serves the same purpose in the end. You and the model and whoever else came before. Wasting time. A distraction.

“Well,” you respond wryly, finishing your makeup. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

…

You show Keigo the wedding venue pictures from your phone. You only took a handful, content to let your friend do most of the documenting. You couldn’t resist the cute individual cakes at one of the places, the garland of feathers at another. At one rustic location, there were fluffy cows on the property, and they had distracted you for a full half hour as your friend wandered around, considering the rest of the place.

“The groom, I presume,” he says, holding up the image of a weathered, brown highland cattle.  

It makes you laugh so hard you almost spit out your tea.

Keigo flips through the cow pictures with glee, pausing to recreate some of their less flattering expressions for you.

He gets to the end. The next picture is one your friend took, a candid. It’s inside a refurbished barn, now used for dining arrangements. You’re standing under a trelise of flowers leftover from the last event.

It’s not exactly flattering. Wrong angle, wrong lighting. Your shoes are caked in mud from your excursion with the farm animals, and you’re dressed too casually anyway to compliment the decor. But you’re laughing so hard at something your friend had just said, almost crying with it. You were so happy, then. The happiest you’d been in so long.

You’re about to reach for your phone, but something in Keigo’s expression stops you. He’s almost smiling. His mouth softened, brow raised slightly. He cradles your phone in both hands, like it will slip through his fingers like water.

“Do you want to get married?” he says, so quietly. Barely spoken at all.

“I’ve never thought about it,” you lie. Because you have. Endlessly, it seems. How sweet a promise that is, to share your life, indefinitely. How nice it would be to share a home with someone else.

He folds a hand over the screen, like he can’t bear to look at it any longer. Instead he looks up at you through his lashes, lips parted ever so slightly. And he’s pretty like this, but not the way everyone wants him to be. Slightly disheveled. More cute than suave. He looks like something you could cup between your palms, or put in your back pocket. Something that you could keep. Something that could be yours.

“Not once?” he prompts, because he knows. Can spot all your little tells like you’re screaming them out.

“Not once,” you agree.

He nods, lets you have this. A painful reminder for you both, of what you are, what your future promises, or doesn’t.

Keigo slips his hand off the screen, slowly, before peeking down at it, trying to catch one last glimpse. But it’s already gone dark.

...

You don’t hear from him for six days.

He lets you know he’ll be busy, like he always does when he can’t keep up your usual constant babble. But this time there are no messages at all. He goes dark, too busy for even a goodnight, miss you text.

Or maybe he’s just forgotten you.

But no, Keigo is your friend. Something bad is brewing and you’re worried for him. About him. Kirishima is still on edge too, though he’s been around at the agency at least once a day to check on things.

On you, you think, but you don’t want to ask. Don’t want to think of yourself as burdening him.

He asks you about Keigo, as if you’d know inherently. You’ve told him several times that you haven’t heard from him in a while, but it doesn’t stick. He’ll just ask you again, the next day, shoulders slumped and smile tired. You don’t hold it against him.

You don’t hold it against Keigo either. Just wish he’d tell you he’s alright.

You catch the news on your way out from the agency. The big TV by the front is on a timer, a constant stream of hero news. Usually you're content to ignore it. There’s not much to care about, if it doesn’t involve your two heroes.

But —

“Rei Todoroki, wife of top hero Endeavor, is currently in critical condition.” The newsanchor is grim, placid. Her voice without inflection. “She was attacked in Ahane Hospital, where she was staying for undisclosed reasons. The perpetrator went unseen, and no other guests were injured, leading investigators to believe this was a targeted attack.”

You stand there, watching the rest of the segment. Rei is in an induced coma. They’re hoping it will save her life. She’s too weak to undergo healing via quirk at the moment. Doctors are relegated to outdated medicine, trying to stitch her body back together. They don’t say what happened to her in particular, but an interview with one of the medical providers leaves your fists clenched at your sides, your stomach churning. She’s in bad shape.

Endeavor refused to comment.

The commission can no longer cover it up. There’s a campaign of violence against the significant others of heroes, and no one, not even the wife of the number one, is safe. This was meant to send a message. To what end, you’re not sure.

You get out your phone to text Keigo about this, but you have nothing to say. This doesn’t involve you in the slightest, you’re an outsider looking in, even if the sight of the paparazzi swarmed outside Endeavor’s home fills you with death-drop fear.

You walk home in a daze. Not sure what this means. What any of it means. Only that something big and unavoidable is coming. Only that everything else seems small in comparison.

It seems unfair that Rei should be punished. You don’t keep up with gossip rags so you don’t know much about her, but news of the Todorokis was bigger than supermarket checkout-rack journals.

Their marriage was infamous, and not only because anything involving the personal life of a top pro is going to turn heads.

The people assumed it was a love match. Outside the walls of their estate it was hard to assume anything else. Endeavor was so driven by his hero status that everything seemed to fall by the wayside -- maybe Rei cracked through his walls.

It was a tragedy that wouldn’t become apparent until years down the line, the story unveiled by their villain son. They were a family full of ghosts.

Endeavor was markless. Rei was not. The status of her own soulmate was unknown.

Of course, things were bound to end badly no matter what, with Endeavor’s attitude, his singular cruelty. But a part of you can’t help but wonder if their mismatched marks could have contributed to the tension. If, maybe, they had really been soulmates, the story would have ended happier.

And now here’s Rei, being punished for her involvement with a markless hero. Maybe, if she’d gone her own way, waited for her fated one --

It’s no use, thinking about it.

Instead you think about Keigo.

He’d worshiped Endeavor for most of his life. Still has the paraphernalia clouding his apartment to prove it. He was a regular fanboy.

When the story of his family broke, his attitude changed. Softened from idolization into something like hope. Endeavor could be proof that a person can be better, become something else. Change.

The news has probably shaken him.

You can only imagine how he feels right now. Responsible, probably.

You know just what he’d say. The fastest hero alive. But never fast enough.

He wouldn’t want your pity or your praise. Just your presence. Just a soft place to rest.

You’re preparing for it all the way home, knowing instinctively that he’d come tonight, that he’d seek you out.

What you’re not expecting is for him to be right behind you, as you unlock your door. At your shock, he reaches around, grabs the keys, turns them in the lock. He shepherds you in with a hand on your lower back, a whisper in your ear.

“Sorry I’ve been away,” he says. “I missed you so, so much.”

The two of you stop in the center of your living room, his arm still curved around you, body tilted over yours, almost protectively. He’s in civilian clothes, a big gym bag, full and lumpy, hung over his shoulder.

You don’t know what to say. You ask, “Are you going on a trip?”

“Maybe,” he returns.

The resolve in his gaze is a physical thing, so weighty and unyielding you feel like it would push you back, if he weren’t holding onto you so firmly. In fact he pulls you in closer, tighter. Holds onto you like you’re something insubstantial, fleeting. A child clutching the string of a helium balloon.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he says. His voice is sober, cool. It sends fear lancing through you, a shock that leaves you short of breath, barely holding onto anything he says next. “I feel like I’m losing my mind. I want you. All of you.”

He must feel you tense, because his grip goes slack for one heartbeat, before his strength returns. Keeping you there, not letting you run away from this, from him.

Your heartbeat is a rubberband snap inside your chest, painful, quick. You don’t want to look at him, the direness of his expression, the tears building on his lashlines. Your hands fist in his sleeves, to pull or push away, you’re not sure. Just holding and holding and holding on.

“You don’t have to love me,” he tells you. “I promise, you don’t have to. It doesn’t matter anymore. You don’t have to do anything at all. Only let me have you. Let me keep you.”

And, yes, you think. Please.

And you want to eat him alive, want to carry him around inside of you, in that small, empty place inside. The ghost of all the lovers you could never have, all the promises that weren’t available to you, markless, unlucky. You want to temper yourself with him, and his kindness, and how good he would be to you. Maybe it would heal everything. Maybe it would make you forget.

It could work — Keigo is a good friend, you’re sure he would be a good partner too.

It could be enough.

You look at him, consider how much you want him, everything that he is. Everything that he’s offering to you.

“Please?” he says. His lip quivers. His grip on you falters, just the slightest bit. “Just -- stay.”

And it rises in you like the dawn, how much you care for him. Want the best for him, only. Forever. And overwhelming warmth, reaches all your corners, rounds you out until there’s nothing left but the way you love love love him. Nothing but--

“I’m sorry, Keigo,” you say. “No.”

an: ......oops

[ao3feed-hawks]

A Crazy Homeless Lady and Her Vigilante Son

A Crazy Homeless Lady and Her Vigilante Son by Gfan97

After her latest failure Tomie ran away from home, leaving only a note explaining why she left. While on the streets she discovered a hero student who also ran away leaving only a note to explain why.

Despite his insistence to the contrary, he clearly has no idea what he's doing and needs help to survive.

Tomie takes in this former hero student and gets to try to be an actual mother, while he stays around to try and help her (and DEFINITELY not because he likes someone helping him.

Words: 7424, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Takami Tomie, Takami Keigo | Hawks

Relationships: Midoriya Izuku & Takami Tomie, Tatami Tomie & Tatami Keigo | Hawks

Additional Tags: Parental Tatami Tomie, Vigilante Midoriya Izuku, Kinda, Team Only Left a Note, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Parental Issues, Homelessness

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31153118