I Need More...........

Deku gets hit by a quirk and temporarily becomes a dog ! 

+ pomeranian bakugou cause the size difference is funny to me

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OKAY IVE BEEN IMAGINING A HAWKS X BAKUGOUS OLDER BROTHER READER?? okay but here me out bro, reader has been dating hawks for a while now, occasional family dinners at readers house with his parents, not brother, due to the fact that he’s training.

reader never brought up the fact that his younger brother goes to ua, and hawks never said anything about teaching 1a gym time-to-time, one day, reader goes to pick up katsuki early from school, and he realizes hawks is teaching, basically how everyone would react to one, finding out bakugou has a brother, and two he’s dating hawks??

(ps, hawks knew of readers last name, but never thought anything of it,)

big bro

keigo takami x male! older bakugou brother! reader

genre: fluff and slight crack oneshot (1,300ish words)

notes: i’m not a massive fan of how i wrote this (i don’t think it’s very good) but it’s been sitting in my drafts for months so here you go

synopsis: reader is katsuki's older brother who is dating hawks -- katsuki doesn't know reader is dating hawks, and hawks doesn't know katsuki is reader's brother. it stays that way until reader has to pick up katsuki from school early while hawks is teaching.

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Principal Nezu is shorter than you expect.

You expected him to be a man-sized rat, not a rat-sized man; though you suppose that isn’t an apt description either, given that he’s at least 2 feet tall and most rats aren’t 2 feet tall.

Regardless, he's still pretty intimidating when you run into him in the hall and he starts to ask you what you're doing.

"I'm looking for Bakugou Katsuki -- uh, my little brother. My parents wanted me to pick him up early since we're leaving today to go on a trip." Nezu seriously makes you nervous.

“Bakugou Katsuki is in Hero Training as of right now. You’ll be able to find him in the gym!” He smiles at you, teeth surprisingly white for a rodent. “Make sure to alert his teacher before you leave,” Nezu continues, an unnerving glint in his abyss-like eyes. You decide not to ask why he knows Katsuki’s timetable by heart.

“Sure. Thanks, Principal Nezu,” you smile, offering him a handshake kindly.

“Anytime, Bakugou-san.”

As you step into the gym, the first thing you notice is the smell of sweat. That, and the temperature. Despite the amount of heat emanating from the fire quirks of a select few and the body heat of everyone in the gym, it’s — surprisingly — rather cool. UA's unflinching ability to invest copious amounts of money into air conditioning was impressive. Your eyes trail across the sweeping ceilings and expensive equipment, whistling lowly. I should come here more often.

1-A looks to be split into pairs — sparring, maybe? — each student difficult to view clearly under the thin blanket of steam and smoke that surrounds them. Katsuki, however, is easy to spot among them. His explosions light up the room, the sound of the loud booms only rivalled by his rage-fuelled yelling. You watch, amused. Glad he’s… letting that out.

As much as you didn’t want to interrupt class (the idea of 20 different teenagers having their undivided attention on you was a terrifying thought), the teacher was nowhere in sight and you were running out of time. “Katsuki!” you call, waving at the angry red glare that lands on you. The boy, in response, rolls his eyes snidely and stays rooted on the spot.

You sigh. Little brothers are so goddamn annoying. “Let’s go, dude,” you urge, emphasising your words with a vague ‘hurry up’ gesture. He scowls, but obliges nonetheless, walking slowly over with his hands shoved into his pockets. Once he's in front of you, he stops.

“My teacher isn’t here. I can’t leave yet.”

“Isn’t it their job to, you know, teach? Where the fuck did they go?” You furrow your brows.

“Fuck if I know,” Katsuki responds, matching your curses with equal indifference. “He went with Deku to go and get something.”

“Izuku’s here?”

“Why wouldn’t he be, dumbass? He’s in my class.”

And that’s when you notice the rest of 1-A. 18 pairs of eyes stare at you in utter shock and confusion, burning with questions. Your body stills, awkward under their gazes.

“Is that… your brother?” a red-haired boy with sharp teeth asks, looking between you and Katsuki slowly.

“Yeah,” Katsuki replies nonchalantly.

You take in the other boy's appearance: the insane amount of gel in his weirdly-styled hair, pointed teeth and the fact that he was sparring with Katsuki. Close friend, bad hair?

“You must be Shitty Hair.” you say, prompting half of the class to erupt into giggles. Vaguely, you recall his name is Kirishima, but Katsuki says it so rarely that you barely even associate it with him. ‘Shitty Hair’ blushes at the attention, nodding bashfully with an awkward smile. He rubs the nape of his neck, glancing once again between Katsuki and you.

“I can see how you’re related,” he laughs uncertainly.

“I can see who got the good genes,” a pink-haired girl with horns calls, “clearly not Bakugou.”

“YOU WANNA SAY THAT AGA—”

The doors slam open. You first see Izuku, who pauses at the commotion, and behind him you see… your boyfriend? What the fuck?

“Keigo?”

“[Y/N]?”

“[Y/N]-nii?” Izuku adds.

“Nii?” someone whispers in confusion.

“Hey, Izuku,” you respond weakly.

Silence falls. You take a moment to appreciate Keigo in his hero costume before the dots connect and you turn to Katsuki accusingly.

“He’s your teacher!?”

“He’s your brother!?” Keigo counters.

You turn to your boyfriend. “I told you I have a brother. You know my last name. You’ve literally met my mother and she’s the carbon-copy of Katsuki. Keigo, what even?”

“Er, well, in hindsight, maybe you’re right— but... you’re so nice,” he says, disbelief evident in his wide eyes and confused brows. “And he’s so… not—”

“The fuck did you just say—!?”

“Young man, I will give you a detention if you swear at me again,” Keigo says sternly, schooling his face into something unnaturally serious and crossing his toned arms over his chest. You can see the humour dancing his eyes, prompting you to chuckle quietly.

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Yes, Hawks-sensei,” he mutters, face contorted into a scowl. He angrily taps his shoe on the ground.

“Stop being a shit,” you chide, grabbing Katsuki by the shoulder roughly and rubbing your knuckles into his skull. The rest of 1-A watches on in absolute disbelief. (Except Izuku. He’s used to this.)

Katsuki groans exasperatedly, “You stop being a shit.”

“Hey!” Hawks gasps dramatically, “don’t call my boyfriend a shit!”

Silence.

You rub a hand over your temple in an attempt to ease your oncoming headache.

“YOUR FUCKING WHAT?!”

“Katsuki—”

The rest of 1-A is left in shock. (Including Izuku, this time). Some start yelling, some look like they’ve turned to stone, the usual. You’re too busy trying to hold back your feral little brother from attacking Keigo — you know he won’t actually, you’re just hoping Keigo knows that too.

“Wait, you’re gay?” A boy who you can recall as Kaminari splutters. Your face crinkles into confusion, nose scrunching like you’ve smelt a bad odour. You can see why Katsuki calls him Dunce Face.

“It runs in the family,” you say, with a pointed look to Katsuki.

His exhaustion must’ve caught up to him since he only offers a middle finger in response. Kaminari bursts into startled and slightly scared laughter.

A warm arm makes its way around your waist and it takes an embarrassing amount of effort for you to suppress a smile. You don’t even have to look at Keigo to know that he’s grinning.

Neither of you are big fans of PDA, but the urge to hug him right now is particularly strong; especially since he’s right there, but there’s also 20 kids right there which sucks and you have to go—

Right. You and Katsuki need to go. That was the point of this whole ordeal.

“Keigo,” you murmur, quiet enough for only him to hear. The rest of the class has ignored the two of you in favour of chatting amongst themselves or questioning Katsuki. Keigo hums, meeting your eyes. He smiles, his golden irises pooling with affection and his arm squeezing gently around your waist, seemingly in a trance. You chuckle, “I need to go.”

He startles. “Right! Right,” he says, clearing his throat. You pretend not to notice the faint tinge of red high on his cheekbones.

“Okay, 1-A. I’m gonna go sort this out quickly,” Keigo says to the class, his voice raised slightly in order to drown out the talking. “So please continue sparring — without quirks — until I’m back. I won’t be long.”

The class answers an affirmative, and then the two of you (plus Katsuki) are out the door. You turn to face Keigo, placing a quick peck on his lips. “I thought I just needed to tell you Katsuki was leaving and then you’d sort it?”

“That’s true… but I missed you,” Keigo sighs wearily, acting like he hadn’t seen you in years. (You spent the night with him literally yesterday.)

“Stop before I tear my fucking eyes out,” Katsuki interrupts. Keigo lifts his head to glare unhappily at him.

“Piss off, Katsuki,” you grumble, placing a slightly longer kiss on Keigo’s lips. You pull away at the realisation that you’re probably late, which means you’ll probably have to face the wrath of Mitsuki Bakugo. “I should— we should go. I’ve stayed way longer than I needed to.”

“Thank fuck,” Katsuki grumbles, occupying himself with his phone. Teenagers.

Keigo groans dejectedly but lets you go nonetheless. He watches you walk away, waving. “Bye, honeybear!”

“Don’t call me that!”

working on how i’d draw LMK characters

so i’m making my own references

Here is Redson ᯽

More sketchbook

scruba dub dub in da tub

chat should i post "[ COME ON ANGEL, COME ON DARLING ]" Here on tumblr or js keep it on ao3?

smiles deviously......PAPA! ME WANT MORE MOVIE 🤞🤞 /ref

Keigo Takami / Hawks X Reader (eventually various X reader but that’s if I decide to continue with the burst of inspiration)

If this isn’t that meaty for you…. THEY JUST MET LET THEM COOK

Summary: Small light banter for a first meeting between freshly debuted Hawks and an Isekai’d reader.

Basically after reading copious amounts of amazingly talented stories by amazingly talented writers. “DEPOLLUTE ME, GENTLE ANGEL” by @fallen-w1ngs and Changing History by SummerBlack on Quotev. With “depollute me” the author humanizes the pro hero from being just a symbol. Meanwhile with “Changing History” the author introduces an emotion more attuned to feeling real and how life isn’t just a cycle that is predetermined. So my dynamic of choice was you as the reader have already been thrown in this world for the first 18 years of your life. If you were put in this world why not do the expected? Become a hero. But if all things are fake why take anything seriously?

If you couldn’t gather from that, the reader and hawks will grow and learn that they have the ability to matter and deserve to feel like they belong. I don’t have a very serious style of writing but I do try! Maybe not my best but key emphasis on try! Today we delve into YOU! YOUR CHARACTER!

This was all made on my notes app while on vacation 😺

Word count: 4280 ish, (idk through editing I added some things)

A blur of red and gold emerged first, feathers catching the sunlight just before their owner stepped forward with an easy, lopsided grin. Hawks, the newly minted Pro, looked entirely unbothered by the attention, despite the sudden chorus of excited shouts.

“Hawks! Can you sign this?”

“Dude, your debut fight was insane!”

“Picture, please?”

He laughed, ruffling his windswept hair as he glanced over the eager faces.

“Man, you guys really know how to make a guy feel welcome,” he said, grabbing the nearest pen. “Alright, line up nice and neat, yeah? I’ve got places to be, but I can’t just leave my awesome fans hanging.”

As he signed posters, notebooks, and even the occasional wing-shaped keychain, Hawks kept that signature smirk in place. He’d always known he’d make it this far—but seeing the real, tangible proof of it in the form of starstruck faces and excited voices?

Yeah, this was pretty damn cool.

As the crowd died down, Originally just going to walk away you thought about when would even be the next time you’d see him. Unfortunately since being thrown into this world, the whole concept of canon magnets for main characters was not even a concept in your life.

“You know, if you’re acting like this right out of the gate, I can’t even imagine how inflated your ego will get once you’re officially ranked among the top heroes.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I have no idea where you’re getting that impression.” You almost felt bad for taking away his moment. The disheveled blonde looked like he might’ve been having a sincere, heartfelt moment.

“It’s always the pretty boys with the massive egos,” you sighed dramatically, looking away. Seeing Hawks in all his glory had to come with a little entertainment, right?

He took a step back, eyeing your UA uniform as if sizing you up.

“Maybe the hostility’s coming from jealousy?”

“It’s the Icarus trope for me” you mutter

“Sorry?”

You laughed lightly, rolling your eyes. “Oh nothing! You sure would think that.”

To be honest, you hadn’t meant to bump into him. You were just on your way home from school, with nothing more in mind than a nice nap. Being a third-year at UA in the most boring era of this universe really didn’t leave you with much to look forward to.

“I mean, looks like we’re heading in the same direction,” he said, curiosity creeping into his tone as he took another sip from his drink.

“You’re not wrong, but the flashy vibe you’re giving off? It’s almost alarming.”

He gave you a distraught look.

“Imagine this, I’m getting saved by—wait, what’s your name again?” Oh, it wouldn’t be impossible for actually knowing him. Sure, he had only debuted a few months ago and the crowd that just left that chanted his name every two seconds would be a sign for his name, but you couldn’t help it. In your past life, the sheer amount of content of the show you consumed meant you had to know him but better safe than sorry.

“Hawks,” he replied, deadpan, amusement flickering in his eyes.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. In response he raised his brow

It probably looked like you were laughing at him, which, in a way, you kind of were. You remembered the draft photos of when his character was first being developed—back when they considered giving him an actual hawk head. The thought alone made you smile.

“Pro hero Hawks saves me, and the sheer massiveness of his ego completely blindsides me. I’m struck by how conventionally hot he is, and then I die in your arms. Yeah, not a good look for you.”

You sighed inwardly. All in all, you were probably born in the worst generation in the My Hero universe. You couldn’t even be part of the middle generation where you could’ve had the chance to work as a teacher with Aizawa and the rest of the crew. It was a possibility, sure, but it felt so far out of reach. And the idea of being around Present Mic—preferably with his hair down and you age-appropriate for him? That would’ve been a dream.

But here you were, a few years older than the main cast. Actually, you were the same age as Keigo. As much as you loved his character, he didn’t really become important until the fifth season. Which meant you had little to no relevance to the plot or any of the major characters. You couldn’t help but feel like you were stuck in some lame generation, unable to make an impact.

Why couldn’t any isekai story go right? You really felt like you’d lost the genetic lottery over and over again. You couldn’t have been born just a few years younger, so you could’ve at least had the chance to be around your other favorite sunshine-blonde character, Mirio. Not being his age had probably made you feel like you’d lost years of your life unknowingly.

“Maamaa, we just met, and you’ve already got a grudge against me?” He teased, giving you a playful frown.

Immediately it springs in your head that you’ve probably come off as a total asshole. Screw the curse of having an outside point of view. The fact of knowing none of this was real maybe gave a bad look on the outside.

You suddenly felt a wave of regret hit you, realizing how your words had come across. His playful tone, the teasing frown—everything made it clear he wasn’t offended, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had crossed a line. You opened your mouth, but your thoughts were tangled, and it took a moment to collect your words.

“Ah, look, I—” You hesitated, eyes darting away, feeling heat rising in your cheeks. “I didn’t mean to sound like that. It’s just… I don’t know, sometimes I get carried away, and—” You mentally cursed yourself for being so awkward. You hated how easily you could go from sarcastic to genuinely sorry in a second.

Hawks gave you an odd look, the smirk still there, though softer. “Hey, no worries. I get it.” He shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal, but you could tell something about his tone had changed slightly. Maybe he was trying to lighten the mood too, like you were.

“No, I’m serious,” you quickly added, glancing up at him, feeling the need to apologize properly. “It’s just… I don’t know. I’ve been here long enough to see how people get caught up in all the… hero stuff. And I didn’t want to be another person acting all starry-eyed over you just because you’re a pro hero, you know?” God you sounded pathetic. Maybe if you prayed to all might really hard it would go away.

Hawks studied you for a second, then nodded slowly, his expression unreadable for a moment. “I get it. You don’t want to be one of those people who just worship the ground we fly on, huh?”

You sighed, relieved that he understood, but still uneasy. “Yeah... fly on. It’s just… this world, this universe… It’s all so… strange. I mean, I know you’re a big deal, and I respect that. But sometimes it’s hard to take things seriously when everything feels like it’s set in stone. To be so ‘MUCH’ all the time. Anyways I’m literally doing exactly what yours doing for a career so don’t take my words to heart. Heroes are kind of just people that help people and I’m like one or those people and by no means-” You paused, biting your lip.

There was an odd moment of silence before Hawks chuckled, and for a moment, you thought you might’ve said something ridiculous.

“You’re fine.” His tone was soft, genuine this time, as he took another step back, giving you space. “You’re not the first person to think I’m all ‘ego and feathers,’ but not everyone’s as honest about it as you are. So, props for that, I guess.” He tilted his head, his usual cocky grin returning, though it seemed more self-aware now. “But hey, if it helps, I do my best to keep my ego in check. It’s not as big as it looks.”

You blinked, unsure how to respond, but the words that came out were almost reflexive. “Well, you’re doing a pretty good job of hiding it, I guess. You’re going to be one of the top ten. I know it.”

Hawks laughed softly, the sound surprisingly genuine, and you found yourself relaxing a little. Maybe you hadn’t totally messed everything up. “You’re so sure about that? Well then fair enough. Just don’t expect me to give up my flashy style anytime soon. It’s a package deal.” He says that as if he doesn’t get In the top ten within a few months.

You could tell he wasn’t taking offense anymore, but you still felt like you needed to clear the air. “I mean, you’re doing your thing. I just—” You faltered, trying to find the right words, feeling like you were digging yourself into a hole. “I just didn’t want to be some random person making snide comments. You’re a pro hero, and I respect that.”

His eyes softened again, and there was an odd sincerity in his gaze. “Thanks. That means more than you know. You look about the same age as me so as you’re a pro as well, wouldn’t you know it you’ll be up there at the top, maybe we’ll have a hero rivalry” he smirks

“Ah yes the trials and tribulations of endeavour and all might persist in the bodies of 18 year old aspiring heroes” you pause for a moment thinking about it. You know that’s not too far from the original source material

“Well I’m not exactly a pro just yet, give me a few months and I’ll be there”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the awkwardness between you two slowly evaporating. It was strange, how you’d gone from a sarcastic comment to a brief but genuine moment of understanding. And yet, in a world where everything seemed so scripted, the fact that this had played out in such a way felt a little… surreal.

After a beat, Hawks stretched, giving you a wink. “Well, I should probably get going. Hero stuff, you know?” He shrugged, turning on his heel. “But hey, if you ever need a hand or just wanna throw some more sarcastic remarks my way, I’m not hard to find.”

You managed a small, half-smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He flashed you one last grin before taking off, his wings spreading wide as he took to the sky, disappearing into the distance. You watched him go, still feeling that odd mixture of guilt and amusement bubbling in your chest.

Shaking your head, you turned and continued on your way home, feeling slightly lighter, despite the awkwardness. At least you hadn’t ruined everything completely. But, then again, in a world like this, there was always something new to look forward to. Maybe you’d even see Hawks again and maybe next time, you’d be a little better at handling it.

Or, you’d at least try to be.

In this world, reports of people with superpowers started popping up everywhere. No one really knew what was causing these Quirks. And before long, the supernatural became the new normal. Dreams became reality, and the world turned into a superhuman society, with 80% of the population possessing some sort of strange ability.

Blah, blah, blah. The world might sound impressive at first, but being dropped into a world where you know everyone’s futures? That kind of ruins the excitement. Save the fun stuff for when Izuku is supposed to take over

You’d think living in a world of superheroes would be a dream come true, but it felt more like playing a life simulator with a DLC attached.

‘Actually if any one had heard that thought, please smite me dead on the spot’

Maybe when you finally met Shigaraki, you two could bond over how lame your lives were.

————

The moment Hawks took off, disappearing into the sky with all the grace and flair of a man who knew exactly how cool he was, you were left standing there, alone in the middle of a busy street. You blinked a few times, processing the bizarre encounter, like a glitch in the matrix where you’d just met one of the to be top heroes, and somehow managed to be the awkward, sarcastic mess you were known for.

Oh god, you thought, did I just make myself look like an idiot?

The awkwardness of the moment hit you all at once, like a ton of bricks. Your brain replayed every word you’d said, every overly dramatic sigh, and every time you’d made some weird comment about his ego. I probably just ruined any chance of ever having a normal conversation with him ever again, you thought with a groan.

But, hey, at least you’d gotten one thing right: you had no idea how to not embarrass yourself in front of a pro hero. Progress, right?

Your feet shuffled along the sidewalk, your eyes fixed on the ground, just in case anyone noticed how ridiculously flustered you were. You didn’t even know where you were going at this point, your legs had basically decided to take you home, but your brain was still stuck on the fact that you’d just made a snide remark to one of the most famous people in the world. That was bound to come back to haunt you, right?

In the midst of your spiraling, a thought hit you like a slap to the face: What if he tells people?

No, no, no, no. Hawks wasn’t the type to hold grudges. He’d probably just chuckle about it with his equally cool friends and forget about it. Right?

… what if he tells Mirko. All you feel is dread

But still, the mental image of him, sitting around with his hero buddies, casually telling them about the weird girl who got all awkward and snarky when she met him, was enough to make you want to curl up in a hole and disappear for the next decade. I’m never leaving my house again, you thought, hands buried in your pockets. It’s safer this way.

As you trudged home, you passed by the same old buildings, the same street vendors, the same couple having a heated debate about the proper way to cook curry (which, honestly, you were kind of invested in now). It was the same old world. But now, you couldn’t help but feel like you were living in some kind of sitcom where you were the awkward side character. This is what I get for getting tossed into this universe, you thought, rolling your eyes at the universe itself. And why am I still here? Shouldn’t I be a sidekick by now?

You eventually reached your apartment building, doing your best to ignore the fact that you’d just been face-to-face with Hawks and didn’t manage to do anything remotely cool or competent. The elevator ride felt longer than it should’ve. It was like the universe itself was giving you a moment to reflect on your life choices. By the time you reached your door, you felt like you needed to apologize to the doorframe for even existing.

With a dramatic sigh, you kicked off your shoes and collapsed onto the couch. You stared at the ceiling, wondering if you should’ve just said something normal like, “Hey, cool wings.” That’s it. Cool wings… nope absolutely not, move on, but no, you had to act like a nervous wreck who couldn’t even handle basic social interaction. Congratulations, you’re a disaster.

But as your mind started spiraling into self-loathing, you couldn’t help but chuckle a little. The whole situation had been so ridiculous, so out of place, that it was actually kind of funny. You’d just had a conversation with Hawks granted, it was a weird, awkward, almost cringeworthy conversation but still, a conversation! That was more than most people could say.

“Maybe I should just call it a day. Hide under the covers and pretend nothing happened.”

You threw your arms dramatically across your face as if the weight of your shame was too much to bear, but in the back of your mind, a tiny thought crept in: Hey, if I run into him again, maybe I won’t make a fool of myself next time.

Then again, you thought with a grin, Probably not.

At least tomorrow’s a new day, right? You could try to be normal then probably. Or at the very least, you could give yourself a good pep talk, like, “You got this, champ. Try not to make an idiot of yourself this time.”

As you lay there, wallowing in your embarrassment, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. Because, in the end, this was just another bizarre chapter in your weird, barely-coherent life in the world of heroes. Maybe next time, you’d at least try to make a good first impression. Or maybe, just maybe, you’d accidentally land on your feet and make it out of another embarrassing moment unscathed.

Who knew? Anything was possible in this crazy universe. Well, except you being smooth. That was clearly out of the question.

————

The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and as your classmates hurriedly packed their bags and ran out the door, you sat there, contemplating your life choices. Graduation was right around the corner, and while everyone else was excited about the future, you were just kind of… existing.

You were in your third year at UA, the very school that trained the next generation of Pro Heroes. But here you were, staring at your desk like it owed you money, with no idea what you were supposed to do next.

Let’s be real, everyone else had a purpose. Izuku? He was going to be the greatest hero of all time. All Might? He was the symbol of peace, the beacon of hope, and probably the only guy who could do a cartwheel and not look like a dad on a trampoline. Even Bakugo had a clear goal in mind: to be the best, which, considering his attitude, was more like a “do it or I’ll yell at you until you cry” kind of vibe.

But you? You were just here. You weren’t supposed to be in this world. Seriously, how did you even get here? One minute you were living your normal life, and the next you’re dropped into the middle of a world full of heroes, quirks, and crazy villains, but there’s no manual for how to fit in. It was like being cast in the world’s weirdest TV show and being told, “Yeah, just figure it out, you’ll be fine.”

And you were so fine. So fine, in fact, that you didn’t even know what the point of it all was. You had no grand dreams of becoming the next All Might or Deku. You weren’t even sure what your quirk was half the time, maybe you had an ability to be totally average? If so, congratulations, you were really nailing it.

“Look, you’re fine, you’re fine,” you muttered to yourself, giving the window a dramatic look. “You’ll graduate, become a hero, maybe stand by the snacks table at hero events, get a cool costume, the usual.”

You sighed, staring at the city below. Your classmates had their lives all planned out, while you had absolutely no clue what was happening. “Like, how do you even become a hero if you’re not, like, destined for greatness?” You asked, though you were fully aware the universe wasn’t going to answer. Or if it did, it would probably just laugh and say, “Sorry, you’re just here for filler content.”

You turned to the empty classroom, contemplating your entire existence for a moment. “Man, is this what it’s like to be a side character? ’Cause I really didn’t sign up for this. I was just trying to live my best life, and suddenly I’m here, trying to figure out if I should be saving kittens from trees or passing out flyers for charity events.”

A laugh bubbled out of you. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be that hero, the one who’s really good at handing out pamphlets at superhero conventions. You know, hero stuff. The job that’s always available but no one really talks about.”

You let out a half-hearted groan. “Ugh, I’m like a glorified intern in the superhero world. ‘Oh, sorry, your quirk is literally just being chill? Guess you’ll be a sidekick to the sidekicks!’”

But then it hit you: maybe that’s fine. Not every hero needs to be the big shot. Maybe your purpose was to just… exist. No huge fanfare, no dramatic showdowns with villains, just a random person who shows up at the right time to, like, hand out snacks or prevent a minor inconvenience. You could totally be that person! There’s a whole squad of heroes out there who are doing important stuff without anyone caring about them.

You snapped your fingers. “Wait a minute. Maybe this is my calling! I’ll be ‘The Human Buffer’. I’ll help all the heroes hand out protein bars, hold their coats while they go into battle, be that one person who’s just there to make sure they look good in their hero pose. Yeah, I could be that hero!”

You stood up, grabbed your bag, and strutted out of the classroom with newfound confidence. You might not have a big, world-saving destiny, but you would be the hero who was always there with the perfect snack after a long day of saving people. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was a role that needed to be filled, and by golly, you were going to do it.

“Alright, world,” you said dramatically as you walked down the hallway. “You don’t need me to save the day, but I’ll be here when you need someone to tell you where the bathroom is during a fight. Hero work!”

As you passed your classmates, all talking about their big future plans, you couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe you weren’t meant to be the hero everyone else was, but you were still going to make your mark. Whether they needed an emotional support snack or someone to bring them a towel after they worked up a sweat, you’d be there.

And hey, you’d probably get a cool title too: The Most Average, Most Helpful Hero.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like the idea of being a hero. Who wouldn’t want to swoop in and save the day, right? But the thing was, you didn’t belong here. You didn’t have that spark that made someone destined to be a hero. You weren’t meant to exist in this world. You were more like an accidental extra, someone who wasn’t supposed to show up on the hero timeline but somehow did. And now you were just… waiting for your scene to end.

It wasn’t that you didn’t respect heroes, of course, you did! But watching everyone around you with their grand dreams and bright futures made you feel a bit like the odd one out. Even if you’re living in a year with just side characters. They had their roles, their destinies. Meanwhile, you were stuck in a universe where things were already set in stone. It was like showing up to a concert that was already halfway over and realizing you’re just gonna have to sit in the nosebleeds for the rest of the show.

Keigo had mentioned once that it was important for heroes to ease the worries of the people. Isn’t it paradoxical that his future words are the ones giving you a path. That they had to be more than just strong, they had to make people feel safe. And you’d never had any doubts about that philosophy. But how could you be that person when you didn’t even feel like you were supposed to be here in the first place? It felt like playing a game you didn’t know the rules to, in a world that wasn’t yours.

Sure, you were about to graduate from UA and technically become a Pro Hero, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were sort of stepping into a role that didn’t really have anything to do with you. You had no grand dreams of fighting side-by-side with All Might in his final battle. There were so any many risks and what if a simple butterfly effect made the villains win by you being here. Honestly, you’d probably end up being the hero who handed out flyers for charity events or stood at the front of the line for photos to be safe. Was that the kind of hero you wanted to be?

“Well, I guess I’ll be a hero of some kind,” you muttered, though it was more out of obligation than excitement. “But what does it even mean if I don’t have some grand purpose in all this?”

A little chuckle escaped your lips. This was ridiculous. Here you were, stressing over your place in a world that was literally made up. You were a character in a story that already had its plot laid out, and yet you were still acting like you had to be a main character. It was all just so absurd.

But you didn’t want to be that person someone who just complained about fate and waited for something to happen. You could still make a difference in small ways, right? Maybe not as the next All Might or Deku, but as someone who showed up when it mattered, who helped out in their own way. The world was full of side characters doing small but important things, why couldn’t you be one of them?

With a grin, you stood up and grabbed your bag, heading out of the classroom to join the rest of your classmates. Maybe you weren’t the protagonist of this story, but hey, you could still make your mark on it. A little self-awareness never hurt anyone, right? Besides, in a world full of heroes, sometimes it was enough just to be one even if you were doing it a little differently than everyone else.

ᯓ★୭˚. ENEMIES OR MORE?

જ⁀➴ “what are we?” event masterlist

synopsis: he's a symbol of everything you oppose. loyalties drawn, paths set—still, there's an unspoken understanding, a reminder of what you might share.

pairing: hawks x f!reader

the city hums beneath you, the distant sound of sirens and hurried footsteps filling the air as night slowly creeps in.

you stand atop a rooftop, the cool breeze lifting your hair, your gaze scanning the streets below. tonight, you're here on business, but there’s always something more when it comes to him—hawks.

it’s been a while since you last crossed paths.

each time you do, it's like a game of cat and mouse. he thinks he has you cornered, but you always manage to slip away.

not out of fear, but because you know how to play the game better than anyone. after all, you’ve spent your life outsmarting heroes like him.

and yet, tonight, something feels different.

you can feel the shift in the air before you see him. the familiar flutter of feathers, the sharp sound of wings cutting through the night.

he’s here, and he's getting closer. the irony of it all isn't lost on you—the fastest hero in the nation, always chasing you, yet never quite able to catch you. he’s good, no doubt about that.

but you know his moves, his habits, better than anyone.

he lands gracefully on the rooftop opposite yours, his wings folding behind him.

you look over your shoulder, eyes narrowing, sensing the tension in the air. there’s something about this encounter that doesn’t feel like all the others.

“still running, huh?” hawks’ voice breaks through the quiet, a smirk evident in his tone as he takes a few steps forward.

his wings twitch slightly, as though itching to launch himself toward you.

you can’t help the smirk that tugs at your lips.

“running?” you say, stepping out of the shadows, your gaze locking onto his. “I’m not the one chasing after someone who’s always a step ahead, am I?”

his eyes glint, and there's a flicker in his expression. you wonder if it’s because of the way you’ve been evading him, or if it’s something more.

but you push the thought away. you’re not here for introspection. you’re here to keep him on his toes.

“you make it too easy,” he says, his voice holding a mix of annoyance and amusement.

“you know, most villains would’ve been caught by now, but you…you’ve got this annoying habit of being unpredictable.”

you tilt your head slightly, taking a step closer to him.

the moonlight casts a soft glow on his face, and for a brief moment, you find yourself distracted by the sharpness of his features, damn him for being this good looking.

“you think I’m a villain?” you ask softly, your tone almost teasing.

“maybe I’m just someone who understands the world a little better than you do. someone who’s not afraid to take risks while you hide behind your hero facade.”

he falters for just a moment, the flicker of doubt in his eyes quickly hidden. “maybe. or maybe you’re just scared. hiding behind all that power because you know the truth deep down.”

you scoff, crossing your arms. “you really think you have me figured out, don’t you?”

“I know I do,” he replies smoothly, stepping closer. “it’s not hard to figure out someone who’s always one step ahead of the law.

but what I don’t get…is why you never just accept what’s coming to you. why run? why keep fighting when you could stop? you could make things easier on yourself.”

the question lingers between you, pulling at something inside. it’s the same question he’s asked every time you’ve faced off—why do you keep fighting, when you could just give in?

the truth is, it’s never been about winning or losing. it’s always been about the chase.

about the thrill of outsmarting him and playing this game, where both of you know the stakes are high but neither of you wants to stop.

for a moment, you’re quiet.

the only sound is the wind rustling through the night air. you glance at him, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that almost makes you second-guess yourself.

“you want to know why?” you ask softly, your voice barely a whisper. he leans in, curiosity in his eyes.

“because,” you continue, taking a slow step closer to him, “you’re always so sure of yourself, so confident. and I’ve always wanted to see just how far that confidence will get you when it comes to me.”

hawks smirks, the challenge in your words clearly not lost on him. “you know, that’s not a bad answer,” he says, his voice suddenly softer. almost…warmer.

“but, for the record, I’m not going to stop coming after you. no matter how many times you think you’ve outsmarted me.”

you laugh, the sound light and almost melodic. “maybe that’s what makes it fun.”

as you disappear into the shadows, leaving hawks standing in the middle of the empty alley, he can’t stop the small grin from tugging at his lips.

he adjusts his feathers, his eyes lingering on where you’ve vanished for a moment too long.

“fun, huh?” he mutters to himself, shaking his head as he launches into the air.

the wind whips against his face, but it doesn’t do much to clear the warmth lingering in his chest—or the ghost of your laughter still echoing in his ears.

by the time he makes it back to his apartment, hawks is still replaying the interaction in his mind.

he tosses his jacket over the back of the couch and paces the room, trying to shake the nagging feeling that’s taken root.

something about you always lingers—like the faintest melody that refuses to leave his head.

slumping onto the couch, he runs a hand through his messy hair, staring at the ceiling. “what is it with her?” he mutters, the question more to himself than anyone else.

his thoughts drift unbidden to your teasing smile, the glint in your eyes whenever you throw a challenge his way. he’s met plenty of people who are clever, who enjoy the game, but you?

you aren’t just playing the game—you’re rewriting the rules every time he thinks he’s got you figured out.

he groans, covering his face with his hands. “nope, nope. this is bad. really bad.”

it isn’t just your sharp wit or the way you keep him on his toes. it’s how, even in the midst of a chase, you feel like something more.

like a spark that makes him forget—for just a moment—that you’re supposed to be on opposing sides.

his hands drop from his face, and he leans forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it holds the answers.

“she’s gonna be the death of me,” he mutters, his voice half exasperation, half awe.

hawks isn’t used to being thrown off his game—he thrives on control, on always being one step ahead. but with you? he feels like he’s chasing more than a target. and it terrifies him.

because the truth is finally starting to settle in, whether he likes it or not.

he doesn’t just enjoy the chase. he doesn’t just admire your wit, your skill, or the way you always manage to slip through his fingers at the last second.

he likes you. really likes you.

“damn it,” hawks mutters, rubbing the back of his neck as heat creeps up to his cheeks.

the realization hits him like a ton of bricks, and for the first time in what feels like forever, keigo takami—pro hero hawks—feels completely out of his depth.

the thought of seeing you again, of hearing your laugh, sends a wave of excitement and dread through him.

because liking you isn’t just risky—it’s downright reckless. but even as he tries to rationalize it, to remind himself of the impossibility of it all, he can’t stop the smile tugging at his lips.

“guess I’m really in trouble now,” he murmurs, leaning back on the couch and staring up at the ceiling.

the days that follow the encounter feel different.

it isn’t just the heat of that moment between you and hawks lingering like smoke in the air; it’s the unspoken tension that still hums beneath your skin.

there are still barbed exchanges, the usual teasing and back-and-forth, but something has shifted.

you notice the way he looks at you when he thinks you aren’t watching—softened, almost as if he’s studying you.

and when you lock eyes, the challenges are still there, but now there’s something else. something delicate.

you try to tell yourself that it’s nothing. that this is just another phase in your endless battle, another game between the villain and the hero.

but it’s harder to believe that now.

there are even times when he shows up when you least expect it—just to talk, to exchange words that aren’t about missions or plans or orders. small things—like him telling you to be careful, or when he asks if you’re okay.

you scoff, of course, but the warmth in his voice, the underlying sincerity, is something you can’t deny.

you aren’t sure how you got here, where you find yourself questioning the motives of the person who, up until recently, has been your enemy.

maybe it’s because you start seeing him as something more than just a hero—a perfect, untouchable figure of righteousness. or maybe it’s because he isn’t what you thought he was.

you try to keep your distance, you truly do, but every time you see him, every time you hear his voice, it’s like he’s chipping away at the walls you’ve built around yourself.

and it isn’t just the things he says. it’s the way he says them. it’s the look in his eyes when he thinks you can’t see it.

the way he hesitates before leaving, like he’s waiting for something…waiting for you to say something, anything. but you can’t say what you need to say. you can’t even admit it to yourself.

weeks pass, and the line between enemy and ally grows thinner.

there are moments when you find yourself sitting in the same room as him—no fighting, no tension, just silence hanging between you like a fragile thread.

you can hear his breathing, steady and calm, and you force yourself to focus on anything but the heat rising in your chest.

still, you fight it.

but then, one night, everything changes.

it’s supposed to be just another mission.

but the battlefield is charged with an unfamiliar tension, thicker than the usual chaos. and hawks is there, too. and this time, he isn’t just another target. he’s in the way.

more specifically, one of his allies—the one you’re assigned to hurt—is standing directly in the line of fire. they’re a crucial part of the mission, and it isn’t something you can afford to back out of.

the moment your eyes meet hawks’, you know this won’t go as planned. his gaze is sharp, unwavering, and brimming with something you can’t quite place—determination, yes, but there’s something else buried beneath it.

he sees through you, understands the weight of your mission—hurt, not just steal or take—and it’s clear he isn’t going to let you succeed.

not this time. the ally you’re supposed to harm stands behind him, and you can see it in hawks’ stance:

if you want to get to them, you’ll have to go through him.

the fight is a dance—a deadly one that the ally exploits to escape.

your body moves on instinct, dodging, attacking, countering, each movement honed by months of training, and yet each blow you land against him is softer than it should be.

your heart is racing, but not from the fight. no, it’s the connection—the undeniable pull you feel whenever your eyes meet.

you can’t explain it, but you feel it in the way his every movement seems to hesitate just a moment too long, in the way his eyes follow you just a second longer than they should.

and then, suddenly, it happens.

in a flash, you find yourself on the ground. his wings, the great feathers that could easily crush any enemy, are now spread wide above you like a barrier, trapping you.

your chest heaves with each breath, but you can’t move. his feather is aimed directly at your throat. the cold steel of it presses against your skin, and for a moment, time seems to stop.

you can feel the heat of him so close—his breath warm on your face, his eyes dark, intense, full of conflict. this isn’t the man you’ve faced in battle before.

no. this is different. this is a hero. and you...you are still the villain. the one he is supposed to end. the one he has every right to kill.

your heart thunders in your chest, not with fear, but with an aching sorrow. a desire for something you’ve long buried.

for a fleeting moment, your guard is down, and you let the raw truth of your emotions flood your mind. you are at his mercy. and, maybe, for the first time, you don’t want him to kill you.

“do it,” you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips. your voice cracks, the edge of vulnerability cutting through the usual strength you wear like armor.

you don’t recognize it at first. how weak you sound. how resigned. but there is a quiet hope in it too. you are giving him an out, a chance to end this.

but hawks doesn’t do it.

instead, his hand wavers, trembling slightly as it hovers above you. the feather, once so steady and deadly, wavers—its tip brushing against your skin, but not with the force of death.

no, there is something else in that touch. the hesitation. the uncertainty. his eyes, usually so determined, are clouded.

you lock eyes with him. in that moment, there is no mission. no sides. no enemies. only the two of you. and everything that has been building for months comes crashing to the surface.

the connection you tried to deny, the feelings you buried deep down, they all come rushing forward.

the world around you spins, a cyclone of emotions, of truths unspoken, of desires too dangerous to voice. and then, finally, he speaks.

“I can’t…” his voice breaks like glass, and you can hear the agony in it. it shatters the silence, the weight of his words settling heavily between you.

the feather above your throat drops. his grip on it loosens, and the sharp tip that had once been poised to kill now quivers in the air.

his wings fold, the powerful appendages that could level cities now hanging limply at his sides.

and in that moment—just when you think the world is going to end, just when you think he is going to end you—hawks collapses.

he falls into you, his chest heaving with emotion, his face burying itself against your shoulder.

you don’t know how to respond. don’t know what to say. but you feel the tremors in his body, the weight of everything he is carrying.

it isn’t just exhaustion.

it isn’t just the fight.

it’s something that has been growing inside of him since the moment you first crossed paths. something that both of you have tried to bury but can no longer deny.

you hold him close, your own body shaking now, from the quiet, painful realization that neither of you can keep pretending anymore. neither of you can keep hiding from what you have become.

hawks’ arms tighten around you as if he could shield you from everything—your choices, his duty, the impossible chasm between the two of you.

his breath is ragged against your shoulder, the weight of unspoken truths pressing down on both of you.

“this…” his voice is hoarse, cracking under the strain of everything he isn’t saying. “this doesn’t change anything, does it?”

you close your eyes, a helpless laugh escaping before you can stop it. “no. it doesn’t.”

the reality of it hangs heavy in the air. no matter what has passed between you, no matter how tightly he holds you now, the world outside won’t care.

you are still on opposing sides, trapped in a war that doesn’t allow for feelings like this.

“then what are we doing?” he asks, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.

his golden eyes search yours, filled with a mixture of frustration, confusion, and something that looks dangerously close to hope.

you hesitate, the answer caught in your throat. “surviving,” you finally say, your voice quieter than you intended. “even if it’s just for this moment.”

his lips press into a thin line. “you know we can’t keep this up. sooner or later, one of us will have to make a choice.”

the truth of his words stings, but you refuse to look away. “I know,” you admit. “but I’m not ready to make that choice yet.”

silence falls between you, heavy with everything you can’t say. the warmth of his touch jars with the cold reality of your situation, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world has faded away.

but it hasn’t. it never will.

“I won’t stop trying to bring you in,” hawks says eventually. “I can’t just ignore everything you’ve done, everything you might still do. but…”

he swallows hard, his voice softening. “that doesn’t mean I want to lose you.”

you let out a shaky breath, your hands tightening in the fabric of his jacket. “and I won’t stop doing what I have to. but that doesn’t mean I want to fight you, keigo. I never have.”

his name on your lips seems to cause a light blush to cover his cheeks, before he coughs. “so, what does that make us? enemies with...feelings?”

a small smile tugs at your lips. “something like that.”

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