Just Had A Revelation For A Meet Cute With Kirishima.

Giving your "best friend" some flowers

omg I liked your drummer bakugou au sooo much 🙏🙏 if requests are open, could you maybe do something for kaminari in this au? like maybe he is a guitarist & reader is clueless about his crush because she thinks he likes their vocalist (jirou)

feel free to ignore & happy new year xoxo 💋

oh my godddddddd oh my gooddd i always have sm fun writing for denks HEHHEHE thank you for the req and happy new years!!!!!!

cherry flavored // denki kaminari

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mha tag: @lotuslovers @babylambdietcoke @0skullyard0 @kaldurahms-lover @commonmisery @moonstonejpg

wait okay blurb idea, we could all use more teenage keigo content on our tl’s so maybe like 17-19 yr old hawks showing the ropes to a new commission recruit bc the president asked him to? liKE THINK OF THE SPARRING/TRAINING SESSIONS !!

i've been thinking about this ever since you sent it in omfgnidosg

warnings: language as usual, general awkwardness, awkward first love (im sorry) reader has wing related quirk!

when you first met hawks, it was the first time the president had seen him speechless. it wasn't like he wasn't around the opposite gender, he trains with females and males an even amount. and you considered yourself pretty average looking-- nothing anybody would fawn or envy over.

the room was silent for a good couple of moments before he even opened his mouth to speak. madame president interrupted him before he could get any words out; "this is [y/n]. please give them a tour, then show them to their room."

she was always cold, ever since you had met her weeks ago. it's not like you expected a warmer welcome after being handed off, but still-- you can't help the curl of your lip in distaste after she dismisses herself, the plumage of green hanging behind you fluttering with agitation.

you've heard about hawks. even if you didn't want to, you always saw him around. on the outside, he was confident, cocky-- funny-- but the guy in front of you? awkward mess. it was endearing to see the veil melt so quickly the second the president leaves you in the room with him.

he stutters when he finally speaks. "hey."

the corner of your mouth lifts and you fail to muffle the chuckle that leaves your lips. "hey," you reply with a small wave of your fingers. your eyes fall to the side, your wings ruffle behind you. "after you," you add after a moment, your hand out in front of you to gesture for him to lead you out.

hawks doesn't talk a lot during the tour.

he has to clear his throat every time the two of you arrive to a new location, though it's obvious he's working through and trying very hard to control the stutter and shake of his voice. it's somewhat cute and endearing, though it creates a comfortable warmth in your cheekbones and a buzz in the base of your spine.

he is not smooth in the slightest when he shows you to your room. shifting feet in the same place, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck, blwoing at the one curl that falls in front of his eyes no matter what he does to push it back.

in the year that follows, the two of you become fast and close friends. he rises easily through the top ten and settles at number three while you're content where you're at in the lower twenties. you still meet for lunch sometimes and get scheduled for patrol with each other, but ever since the two of you were seventeen; you couldn't remember the last time the two of you got to train together.

just shy of your nineteeth birthday, hawks corners you just outside your office at the HPSC.

you hear the flutter before you actually hear him. "hey you."

you balance the small mound of paperwork on your hip, your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek. one of his feathers manages to lazily land on top of the stack in your arms, you only dust it away with a click of your tongue. "you've been busy."

he has. out on more missions lately, more patrols in highly crowded areas-- like the commission is sending some message about the two of you.

you lean on the wall outside your office, your wings flick lazily behind you. hawks always had a habit of pulling on them, taking a feather for himself just for shits and giggles, even if you do punch him for how much it hurts. you steal one for yourself in retaliation every time.

his hands are shoved into his pockets, and he doesn't quite meet your eyes. there's a faint twinge of pink across his nose-- he doesn't normally blush. by now he's more popular with the ladies, he's used to getting attention.

but this is you.

"i know your birthday's soon," his voice is just above a whisper, you have to lean in to catch the end of it. he leans away from you out of reflex, and the tint across his nose gets darker.

keigo's wings twitch.

ever since meeting him and being paired with him in training and having to be around him, you've gotten more perceptive to how his wings and feathers seem to talk for him. he's gotten better at controlling it in the year or so since you've first met him, but you know his tells like the back of your hand.

"repeat that again?" your voice is low as you tease him, the corner of your mouth lifts in that stupid little smirk that hawks finds infuriatingly attractive.

"your birthday is soon," he has to force out, his throat bobs as he visibly swallows. "i want to do something for you."

"oh!" you don't mean to sound so… stunned. but you're a little surprised. why would he want to celebrate your birthday with you? he refused to let you celebrate his.

"don't ask."

your mouth closes, cutting off the question on the tip of your tongue. you don't miss how his hands shake slightly when he removes them from his pockets, doing his dorky little finger guns-- he does that to alleviate awkward tension. it works just the slightest bit.

"i'll see you? i'll come get you, just wear something comfortable."

he doesn't let you respond. he's down the hall before you can get your vocal chords to make any sort of noise. his eyes catch yours before he turns the corner, however-- the flutter that's usually in your wings is now in your heart.

you can't help but smile. genuinely.

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

HAPPY BIRTHDAYY TO TOUUYYAAAA

you hook up with izuku drunkenly at someone’s birthday party and it’s not even that you regret it in the morning it’s just that your post nut clarity hits that you slept with the boy you’ve known since pre-k all because of a couple of drinks and when he wakes up you’re still freaking out and you make him pinky promise that this won’t mess with your friendship, “izuku do you hear me? we are NOT going to be that pair of sad best friends that fucks everything up just because of sex. sex is nothing. we’re never gonna do it again, so we’ll be fine right?” and the whole time he’s nodding along with wide, glassy eyes not listening to a goddamn thing you’re saying because he’s been in love with you since middle school, and last night you said you loved him, too. granted he was inside of you, and he said it first, but you said it back, and by that point it was well after one in the morning so the only thing you two were drunk on were each other. it’s probably why the very next day he is at your doorstep with a notebook in hand and a grin on his face that’s something right in between cocky and sweet when he says “i think we should sleep together again. and before you say no, i made a list about why 😁 number one: we’re really good at it. number two—”

was not aware that tumblr would fw sumiko like that lol HEEYYYYYYY

here’s some screencaps i made

new message from: keigo “hawks” takami!

feat: random texts/tweets/posts from your boyfriend keigo <3

warnings / cache notes: language, suggestive, keigo’s slightly possessive/over protective, might be ooc. idc.

req📌: ❌ ignore how the first image is different from everything else i’ve had this post saved for so long

m.list

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

i really think having an emotional connection is so important to bakugou sexually.

like, i think he has to be in the exact right mood in order to get off by himself at home alone. can't be too tired, can't be too stressed out, can't have too much on his mind regarding work or other things, and even if it's been a while and his body is sensitive and wanting for it—if his head is not right, he can sit there for hours and never reach his peak.

which is why i think ultimately he doesn't do it that often, because it pisses him off to waste the time and not find the release. makes him more agitated. i think porn for the most part doesn't help him because he's too picky, literature probably helps a bit more, but he's still picky, and his imagination can get him there, but his headspace has to be right.

i think he's slow to hands-on stuff, when your relationship starts, and you can tell he's going to be like that pretty quickly. he responds to your touch like it's an accident; you reach out to hold his hand and he pulls his back like your knuckles have knocked by chance, like you're too close. it's not meant to be a rejection of any kind, it's just—he doesn't want you to touch him if you don't want to. if you don't mean to.

but when he realizes that you mean to, that you want to—

it has him skyrocketing. surprises him terribly, the affect you have on his body, and how quickly, because not even he can always have that affect on his own body.

you reach up to push some hair out of his face and your fingers skirt his cheekbone and he feels like a stupid gross disgusting puddle of mush. you loop your arm through his and lean into him while you're walking and he feels like a prize, like he's yours and you're his and you want everybody to know and that gives him a rush of pride that makes his head woozy.

he's dropping you off at home after date number he-doesn't-know and you're staring up at him outside your front door and he knows he should kiss you so he does and his whole body lights up with a heat he doesn't recognize at all. just from that.

and then he finally gets it: that heart-aching, stomach turning, body shaking want he's only ever heard about, and now finally feels.

Sex with Bakugo is good, you decide. Not spectacular, but good. He likes to nudge his nose into your cheek and whisper little quips to urge you on, even as you lay there and take it. The way he cages your body under his is... gentle. Too gentle. Aggravatingly gentle. With his attitude, you thought he'd fuck you rough and raw, into the fucking carpet, but instead, he caresses. He delays. He kisses. He-

Bakugo rips himself away from you, all huffed breath. "Where do you go?"

His voice brings you back to the moment. The room shifts as your eyes adjust back on to him. His cock is still inside you, just barely, only the tip like it's a forgotten detail between you. Sex with Bakugo is good because it's warm. Sometimes, his hands literally crackle with heat around you.

Now, they pull away from you and the room goes cold.

"You went fucking dead behind the eyes." He gestures to his own face, like it makes everything makes sense. "This face like you're-- Like I'm--"

Unlike Hawks and his forehead kisses, Katsuki rubs his thumb back and forth in whatever space he can find. Today, it's your inner bicep, up and down with too little pressure.

Up, down, up, down. The motion clogs your mind. Sex already leaves your brain sticky with memories and the damn touch just adds sand to grind between the gears. You need to smile and ask him a question, something needling and clever, with just enough of an edge that he's turned away from you-

"Don't deflect."

You nearly activate your quirk on instinct. Too seen. He's got you pinned under his sight, when you'd rather be pinned by his body.

Sex is supposed to be uncomplicated. Hawks fucks you without preamble or pretext. Why does Katsuki insist on bringing emotion into it?

"Just tell me what's wrong."

"I'm thinking about something else."

"'cause I'm fucking you bad?"

You almost smile at that. "No."

Silence hangs about you as you wait for the following up question, but it never comes. Instead, Bakugo pulls fully away from you and rolls to his side of the bed, adjusting the sheets around him. You're left there, looking at the textured ceiling as he sighs to himself.

"Listen," he says. "These games you play, I- I'm not gonna fucking wrangle it out of you, but-"

He grumbles out a noise between a sigh and a groan.

"Fuck, girl. I like you. Let me like you."

This tickles a part of your brain. Likes you? No one likes you. People are fascinated by you, perturbed by you, obsessed with you, but they never like you. You're unsettling, disturbing, barely even human-

"You like me?" It even feels wrong to say, but Bakugo just shrugs one shoulder.

"Why else would I fuck you?"