It's Not What It Seems! // Smau

The thought of dating a tall big muscular, who has huge tits and big dick, everyone around tells you that you’re the bottom in the relationship. When in reality, he’s a submissive whorish cockslut when he’s around you, and just wants you to fuck him with your dick while you jerk off his cock as lewd sounds escape from his mouth, tears foaming from his eyes as he drunk with the pleasure you give him.

010. CARNATIONS

It was all a blur.

Desperate arms wrapped around his frame the moment he stepped into sight. Touya shed more tears than he had in years today, the faces in the back of his mind that were beginning to fade away became crystal clear in an instant. Twin diamonds shine and leave a salty trail down his cheeks when his mother finally hugs him.

She cradled Touya's face in her palms as her fingers rubbed gently against his skin—telling Touya she was so proud of him, telling Touya he looked so healthy—telling Touya she was so happy to see him. Touya smiles when he's sad, and it was truly a sight to behold. His eyes had shards of gold glittering in them as they caught the afternoon sun's rays, and his smile was so handsome and authentic, it looked like the Gods themselves had carved it into his face.

Natsuo wasn't as 'tough' as Touya remembered him. Because the moment Touya cursed his brother out for getting taller than him while he was gone, Natsuo weeped like a newborn. Maybe he was mourning all those years growing up without having his older brother by his side—the years he spent as a teenager thinking he was getting older than his Touya-nii ever got to be.

Fuyumi was strong—she was able to hold Touya up all on her own when he crumped against her, pressing his cheek into the crown of her head as he thanked her for staying shorter than him. Her laughter is wet with tears, but it was just as sweet as he remembered. Natsuo's was too—just seeing them smiling at him felt like they'd ripped past skin and fleshed and pierced Touya's heart with a dagger carved with love.

Shoto's eyes flittered between his siblings and mother—watching them all stand around Touya as he swayed on his feet, unable to hold himself up as they all murmur quietly to each other—there weren't many words spoken, just the occasional sniffling and hiccuping sobs as they fussed over him

Shoto doesn't know when you intertwined your fingers with his to hold his hand, but he'll be forever grateful you did because his chest is so tight he doesn't think he can breathe right. His eyes move fast, rapidly blinking as he watches the scene in front of him unfold from afar

He's never felt more like an outsider than he did right now. He was watching his family show more emotion in this moment than he's ever seen in years. He looks to you for a moment, almost hesitating to step towards them all as his eyes are clouded with an unmistakable mist. You squeeze Shoto's hand encouragingly, and soon enough, he's slipping out of your grasp and gravitating towards Touya.

He's facing Touya's back right now, watching his older brother lean into their mother's palm as she kisses his hands before Shoto clears his throat—an attempt to catch their attention. He can see the muscles in Touya's back physically tense before he turns around. Touya's eyes catch yours first—before they slowly move to Shoto.

Shoto isn't a very good hugger. He's not really sure how to wrap his arms around Touya without it being awkward. Unfortunately—Touya also wasn't a good hugger. He stills when Shoto slowly wraps his arms around him, the younger boy's eyes closing as his face bumps against Touya's chest. Touya's words are stuck in his throat as his mouth goes dry, a strange feeling spreading in his chest as he looks down to see Shoto's ivory and ruby strands pressed against him.

Touya always thought Shoto had grown up to be a carbon copy of their father. He didn't know why, but he never really assumed Shoto may have grown to be a good kid until the war.

So, Touya tries his best. Wrapping his arms around the younger boy and letting out a shaky breath as his eyes squeeze close.

Rei went overboard with dinner. The table was covered with all the classics—rice, grilled fish, miso soup, pickled vegetables—everything and anything you could imagine. Rei was so proud when she saw the look on Touya's face, her heart soaring as her son muttered something along the lines of how good the food looked.

You were Touya's support through the entire dinner as he spoke. Most of the questions he got asked consisted of how he was feeling and adjusting. He answered all of them remarkably well, his voice even and smile calm as he ate his dinner

You sat in between Shoto and Touya, and you almost wish you weren't sitting between them when you watch Shoto lean over the table to look at Touya every time he spoke. It was like he was in a trance as he watched his older brother speak—if Touya noticed Shoto's lingering stare, he didn't say anything.

Shoto wanted to hear every word that came out of Touya's mouth. And luckily, everyone stayed at the dinner table well after dinner was finished. The conversation was nostalgic and calm. It was sad and maybe sometimes Touya would have to blink back tears, but God, he loved it all so much.

Rei was quiet for most of the dinner, save for soft smiles as she listened to Touya talk. Even when he was a kid, Touya talked a lot. She wants to ask Touya if he knows how he subconsciously leans towards you during the entire dinner, whispering things in your ear that have you fighting a smile

It was stupid little jokes he made whenever someone wasn't speaking to him—he'd jump so fast whenever he noticed the attention wasn't on him anymore as his eyes found yours. Unfortunately, Touya didn't notice how his mother's eyes never left him.

She saw it all. The way your eyes crinkled with a smile whenever Touya said something stupid, how Touya offers to fill your glass and how you and him get into a quiet argument on who gets the bigger piece of fish, both of you insisting the other gets the larger half. You two end up sharing, smiling with silent laughter whenever his fork clinks against yours

Rei knows Touya's kindness isn't because of her parenting. It can't be. Touya was an angry and mean child, one who lashed out often and couldn't get along with others.

She had trouble dealing with Touya, and Enji did nothing but worsen his condition. Her own inner turmoil had her mind falling apart, and she had been struggling with the man who was supposed to protect them just as much as Touya was.

You made Touya like this—calming the storm in his heart Rei thought would rage on forever.

When he was Dabi, Touya was even worse. She had seen the news, she knew her first born was alive and wreaking absolute havoc. Years ago, his supposed death had been her breaking point. And, oh, what she would have given to save him from his inevitable fate.

She failed Touya. She and Enji, they had both failed him. Not intentionally—she never meant to fail him the way she did.

But you had not failed Touya, and Rei was going to treasure you forever for unknowingly saving her family.

Rei hadn't experienced real love before. But the way Touya just looks at you lets her know that even if she didn't get the privilege of being able to know what it was like, her son did. And that alone is enough to make her happy.

"Mom?"

Rei is startled, turning to look at Natsuo when he places a hand on her shoulder, dishes in hand. Everyone's dispersed by now, and she realizes she's the only one still at the table.

"You spaced out again." Natsuo says, a sad smile on his face as he gently rubs his mother's shoulder. Rei's lips part as she makes a little 'o' with her mouth, before smiling softly

"Touya's in love."

Natsuo blinks once, twice, before his lip twitches upward. He slides into the spot beside his mother, leaning in closer as he takes a quick glance at you and Touya—who was marveling over the endless channels on the big screen TV that was placed in the center of the living room, your laughter flowing through the air at his excited commentary—he was pointing out all of his favorite movies as a kid.

"I know. Just...try not to say anything to them, okay? It's definitely not something either of them can pursue yet. Bringing it up in front of them isn't the best idea right now." He mutters quietly as Rei nods slowly, the gears in her mind shifting as she stays quiet in thought. Fuyumi calls Natsuo from the kitchen, asking him to bring the remaining dishes as he quickly stands up, following her voice.

Shoto pretends he wasn't able to hear Natsuo as he keeps his head low, piling the remaining dishes into his arms before strolling after his older brother. Of course, you had offered to help clean up like a good guest earlier—but Fuyumi had shooed you and Touya away before either of you got the chance, telling you to get comfortable in the living room.

Rei tilts her head to try and get a better look at you. Maybe she's getting ahead of herself, but Rei's thinking of the silver wedding band laying on the edge of her vanity. It was a ring that meant nothing, never had when it was slipped onto her finger

But it was a beautiful ring.

She wished it had been spent on a truer love. On something real and tangible, something as beautiful as the delicate diamonds encrusted into it. She zeroes in on your fingers, watching the way they curl around the TV's remote as you dangle it out of Touya's reach. He growls and grunts in an attempt to snatch it back from you, his laughter peaking through his facade easily as your squeals sound through the air

Yes, your fingers look like they'd fit her ring. She didn't ever think about passing her wedding ring down to one of her children, never even considered the thought. But...

For the first time in so many years, it was laughter that bounced between the walls of this house. It was beginning to feel like a home again.

You and Touya are dancing around such a fine line so carelessly.

Touya doesn't even know he's in love with you. He knows he cares for you, knows you've become the most important person in his life—he knows he loves you in some sense, but it took him a lot longer than he'd like to admit to realize he was in love with you.

He can see the cartoon's reflection in your eyes as you watch the TV right beside him. His body, simply put, was drawn to yours. You're pressed against his side, and he can smell you. You smell sweet, and he resists the urge to sniff you.

The thought is odd. He pauses, blinking at the TV screen but not even absorbing what's going on as his eyes slowly drag towards you. Did he almost sniff you, just now?

Okay. Touya was weird, he already knew that. But when has he ever wanted to sniff someone? That was just fucking weird. Suddenly, he starts thinking—and it feels like he's been carelessly missing the ON button in the back of his mind, and it had finally been switched on my some miracle.

He's had these type of thoughts before. Actually—he's had a lot of these thoughts before. He had just...ignored them. Too engrossed in any moment with you to truly acknowledge them.

Yeah, he wants to sniff you. He wants to know what shampoo you use, he wants to know your favorite meal—you know his, when does he find out yours? He wants to know if you have siblings like him, he wants to know if you take cold showers or hot showers, he wants to know if you like his family, he wants to know if you like him the way he likes you.

The realization dawns on him slowly, and Touya realizes he has never been more clueless in his life.

He likes you.

No, not like a patient liked their doctor. And not like how a victim liked their savior—it wasn't like that.

He liked you like he'd die without you, like his heart would cease its beating and he would genuinely be unable to feel any semblance of happiness again if you slipped away

He suddenly realizes you can't like someone that much. It was another feeling, and he was in deep.

"Aw, fuck."

You peer up at him through your lashes, a confused hum leaving your lips as you tilt your head towards him in concern

Touya looks down at you, a small smile splayed on his lips. He thinks, no—he knows he'll never love someone this much.

"You know, I forgot this sucker died at the end." He mumbles quietly, taking your chin between his fingers and tilting it towards the TV as a whine escapes your lips

"Touya! You spoiled it!" You pout, looking at the cartoon and huffing—what kind of kid's movie has anyone dying in it?!

"I'm kidding." He murmurs with a quiet laugh, watching relief flood your features moments later as you tuck yourself back into his side

"Good. I like that little guy."

"The cat?" He muses, leaning further into you as his breath fans your neck

He's so warm. So welcoming and gentle—and you can't even try and stop yourself from leaning further into him.

"Yeah. He reminds me of you."

The cat in question, was a grumpy little thing that spends most of the movie snacking on sweet treats—its belly round and happy from being loved so well. It was a silly little side character, but in an odd way, it reminded you of Touya's little mannerisms. The way it pouted and huffed and cracked the most absurd jokes the entire movie had you smiling ear to ear.

His fingers find your sides quickly, and you try to pry his hands off as he tickles your side mercilessly—adorable huffs of "Touya, everyone's sleeping!" escaping your lips as you try and muffle your laughter, covering your mouth as he pulls your hand away from your lips—saying he wants to hear you squeal and laugh for him.

You get him back, of course. But he doesn't even try to be quiet as you tickle his belly. He laughs loudly, straight from his gut and filled with so much joy that you can't bring yourself to stop

Touya has a really nice laugh, you think, watching him grin so wide—you think it must hurt to be smiling so much. He suddenly hooks a leg over yours, and the both of you roll off of the couch and onto the ground in your fits of laughter—and not once, not ever, has Touya felt more loved.

CARNATIONS MASTERLIST.

a/n; something is cominggggg 👀!

tags!

@kawaiidemoneart @porusuniverse @starrmage @lilbeatlebear @bokukenmakuroo

@summercreolefanfictioner @dija200 @phtmmsqrde @sunaraii

@c-lunette @gh0stgirl333 @skullkittens @gurl-pls-evn-the-sharks-fear-me

@hawkwithsocks @suresnips @sugurusmoon @matchablossomsss @moonlitmorganite

@redr0sewrites @muimuiwisteria @sukunaspillow @starsryi

@eidolonwriter @dabislittlemouse @rueclfer @kelin-is-writing

@shugs1801 @imaginationmess

@lasa27 @sophiathefrog @etaerealboy @kooromin @sourbbyxo

@hvnares @ephmeraloblivion @lost-seraphiim @quokka-ina @jesuschrist2006

@stoned-anime-babe @qatiee @shadowsingers-redhood @alycat171

@21-princess

@xileonaaaa @rylerboi @blurryperrtymoonlight @mrcleans4headwrinkle @accidentpronedork

@exquisitenesss @miniatureempathknightpony @afterlife11

nearly every time you get out of the shower, shouto somehow hears you uncap your lotion from across the house and suddenly manifests in the bathroom with you, pouting until you let him help put it on

bsf!shoto doesn't understand when being punctual went out of style.

when you swing open your front door the instant he was about to knock, you startle backward like you'd seen a ghost.

"oh, wow." your eyes are wide open and your mouth gapes before snapping shut. "you're, uh, here very early," you manage to say, turning back inside and kicking the door the rest of the way open with your foot. he follows behind you as you hurry back to your bathroom, your makeup halfway done and seven possible outfits laid on your bed. he follows you through the hallway, stopping only a moment to glance at a baby photo of you on the wall. he'd seen the photos hundreds of times, but he found it amusing that you made the same face of surprise when you were little.

"i am ten minutes before our agreed upon meeting time, is that distressing?"

"not distressing, just surprising. in my experience," you continue while patting glitter on the inside corner of your eyelid, "guys don't usually show up on time for dates."

"well, it's a good thing i'm not other guys, then," he smirks and you roll your eyes with a poorly hidden grin. "i also didn't need to waste time picking you flowers--"

"since most of the stuff makes me sneeze anyway," you finish for him, your cheeks warm under the dusting of powder blush. you had known shoto for nearly three quarters of your life, yet it still caught you off guard every time he said something that told you he'd been paying attention to you. "very thoughtful of you." your eyes meet his in the mirror, flicking to his broad shoulder leaning against the doorframe. "staring is rude."

"then you're a hypocrite," he immediately counters with no change in tone, the only indication of his smugness the slightest narrowing of his eyes. his expression turns thoughtful, fond almost. he smiles softly and the endearment makes your cheeks warm even more. "i like that color. the one on your eyes."

"mmm, i know it's your favorite," you reply coyly. shoto's eyes drag from your face down the rest of your body, something different flickering across his face. "something wrong?"

"no, you just...you look beautiful," he manages to say.

"i'm wearing pajamas and all might socks that have at least three holes. in each sock," you chuckle, turning to him over your shoulder. "i certainly don't feel beautiful."

"i can fix that."

"what?"

"what?" he blinks at you, dumbfounded, and you giggle at his slip-up. "who said that?"

"you're funny, sho." you try to ignore the way his eyes follow every movement of your hands as they swipe color over your lips and make last adjustments to your lashes. when you're done, he steps out of your way so you can take your numerous outfit choices to the bathroom, settling down next to your bed to help you decide like he'd done before. "this is a little different, you know," you say through the crack in bathroom door as you tug on your first arrangement. "before, you were helping me decide what to wear for school award ceremonies and stuff like that."

"i could still do that, if you want," he replies with complete sincerity. "i do still want to do that."

"it's a little weird to be dating your best friend, since i feel like you already know all the things that would make me a terrible person to date," you continue and he falls silent on the other side of the door, prompting you to peek out of the bathroom. "sho? is everything okay?"

"yes, everything is fine." there's the slightest dip in his perfect eyebrows that tell you otherwise.

"the 'no lying' rule carries over from friendship to dating, you know," you remind him casually and step out completely, turning in a circle for the full effect. "what do you think?"

"i think that's a bit...warm," he states bluntly. you blink at him and half expect him to laugh, but he doesn't. he's dead serious about you being too warm.

"i am a little warm, yes," you admit in your thick sweater and fleece stockings. "but, i'd also like to dress warmer than i need to because it's so much easier to cool off than it is to warm up."

"i can do both of those things for you," shoto declares. "why wouldn't i do both of those things for you?"

"i don't want you to hassle and need to use your quirk on date night." your voice trails off but he's having none of it.

"is this what you mean by 'things that make you a terrible person to date?' planning ahead so you're not a burden?" you shift your weight uncomfortably under his gaze and can't muster any other answer but shrugging.

"i just...i don't want you to need to change to accommodate me, now that we're together," you explain quietly. he stands and takes your hands in his, lacing your fingers together without a second thought. "if it's easier for me to be uncomfortable and you to be comfortable--"

"why is both of us being comfortable not a possibility?" he asks, tilting his head forward slightly. "why can you prioritize me but i cannot prioritize you?" you have no further argument but his point is hammered home. "do you love me as you wish to?"

"wholeheartedly."

"then let me love you as i wish to. wholeheartedly."

dating shouto is a hassle for a girl who doesn’t much like kids. 

out in public, he attracts children like a magnet–everything from toddlers to preteens, obsessed with the action hero they see on TV, always wanting him to freeze something or set something on fire, which he does so patiently, every time. he talks to them seriously in his low tone, answering the most insane questions–“have you ever hit the sun with your ice wall?”–as though they were perfectly reasonable inquiries.

worse, he seems to attract babies, everyone from izuku & ochako to momo & jirou always fobbing their babies off on him at get togethers. shouto and the baby always stare solemnly back at one another for minutes at a time, until the baby invariably drops off to sleep. you’ve never seen one cry after it’s been put in his arms, and you always end up having to feed him from your plate while he holds them, sometimes for hours.

he’s good with them, you realize. good with all of them, calm and patient when they yank on the fiery red strands of his hair or drop their drooly binkies onto his nice slacks.

it’s cute, and it reaffirms how very steady and trustworthy your boyfriend is.

you’re still not having any, and you’re not about to take over baby holding duty for him.

but it’s cute, or whatever. a hassle, but cute.

DOA !

feat: izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugou, touya todoroki, keigo takami, tomura shigaraki

warnings / cache notes: quirkless au for izuku's, other than that all are canon timeline! one sided pining, miscommunication, mentions of death / dying, alcohol consumption, all around angst (what else did u expect... it's me and it's fall out boy. whoops.) jjk version here!

m.list // fob m.list

CHICAGO IS SO TWO YEARS AGO - IZUKU MIDORIYA — She took me down and said / "Boys like you are overrated, so save your breath" / Loaded words and loaded friends / Are loaded guns to our heads / 'Cause every pane of glass that your pebbles tap / Negates the pains I went through to avoid you / And every little pat on the shoulder for attention / Fails to mention I still hate you

izuku was a nice guy. maybe a bit too nice-- it always confused you. because all through high school he was the sweetest thing-- blushing, stuttering, a little ditzy sometimes and a new level of awkward that you weren't sure was even possible-- but the guy currently tossing pebbles at your window? how is he the same guy that literally almost passed out when you bumped into his shoulder in the 9th grade? this had been happening for weeks. the curly haired boy would show up at the home you rented with another friend of yours and toss little pebbles from the garden in front of your house against your window. and when you finally did open the window, the conversation would dry out a little too quickly for his liking, and you'd dismiss him in that fake sweet tone of yours. izuku doesn't know why he's chasing after you. he knows you were never interested in him more than a silly little high school crush. you both were well in your twenties by now, him with an office job and you with your teaching job. you two reached out a year or so after graduation and caught up, making izuku realize that he had shoved some intense feelings to the back of his psyche, and you were doing great with your newly rewarded promotion at your job. why was he still clinging to this one sided pining? it should've shifted to the next stage by now-- he should atleast dislike you, hate you even. even if you never get to hear the confession he's been rehearsing since that first lunch together months ago, even if you continue to deny him a chance of even hearing him out-- he should hate you. a lot. and yet he doesn't. because at his heart, izuku was a nice guy. too nice.

7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN (ATAVAN HALEN) - KATSUKI BAKUGOU — I keep telling myself / I keep telling myself / I'm not the desperate type / Sitting out dances on the wall / Trying to forget everything that isn't you / I'm not going home alone / 'Cause I don't do too well on my own

one thing you learned about katsuki was that he was an honest drunk. a brash and shameless honest drunk, but still honest. you don't always go out for drinks with him and the crew-- you don't care too much for the bar scene and you can never keep up with the boys (denki and kirishima always peer pressure you) but sometimes you tag along and you manage to have a good time. tonight, the number of people still awake has dwindled down drastically. sero was slumped forward against the table, denki was asleep leaning with his back against the wall with kirishima also asleep on his shoulder. only you and katsuki were awake. awake is put loosely, since the blonde keeps blinking slowly at you, rocking just the slightest bit where he sits and leaning into his arm propped up on the table. you've mirrored his position, only half as drunk as he was-- your eyes are lazily tracing the scars along his face and exposed skin of his arms. you don't even know what you two were talking about. at this point, you were sure you were mumbling nonsense, but it didn't matter. katsuki watched you like you were the most interesting thing in existence, drunken starry eyes idly tracked your every move. his cheeks were a nice rosy color-- either from the alcohol or how you were very obviously and shamelessly checking him out right in front of him. "'m gonna go home soon," you slur your words, your free hand traces the circle of condensation that your glass leaves when you move it. katsuki watches your finger for just a moment too long before his eyes snap up to yours. "don't," he mumbles, but you hear him just fine. like your ears have a specific tuning for his particular timbre. you lean in the slightest bit and pretend to not hear how katsuki's breath hitches. "have patrol tomorrow," you manage to get out while you hold his gaze. drunk katsuki also pouts. "don't leave me," if you were sober, you would've been shocked at how sincere and tender his voice sounded. "please?" you rarely ever hear him use that word. "'suki-" the alcohol doesn't allow you to say his full name, but he latches onto the portion that he hears and scoots the slightest bit closer towards you. in this intimate distance, you can see the glaze in his eyes, a carnelian warmth the spreads to your cheeks and down your spine. for once in your life you can see the vulnerablility clear in his eyes. katsuki is not a desperate guy, atleast when he's sober. you can hear the clear want in his voice when he speaks again, inching closer to close the distance, his nose bumping gently into yours. "don't make me go home alone." katsuki is a very honest drunk.

BISHOPS KNIFE TRICK - TOUYA TODOROKI — These are the last blues we're ever gonna have / Let's see how deep we get / The glow of the cities below lead us back / To the places that we never should have left / The last blues we're ever gonna have / Let's see how deep we'll get / The glow of the cities below lead us back / To the places that we never should have left

"wish we could've spent my last night alive alone," touya mutters as he leans back onto open palms, the concrete a numb chill against his skin. his eyes are focused forward, and so are yours. you don't pay any mind to the security guard who is standing just a little ways off to the side, gun drawn but ready to aim at the man next to you at a moments notice. you know there's no need for the weapon, but to them-- the commission, the public; the whole country-- they need it. they are the ones who don't trust him. you only hum in response, curling more into the warmth of his side and continue to watch the sky as it changed colors. you've given yourself to touya years ago. complete devotion, unwavering love-- support while he recovered after the war and help during his time in rehab. you've given him so much, only for it all to be ripped apart and scrubbed clean with a single piece of paper. if he were the protagonist of this story, he would've gotten a happy ending. he would've been able to complete his time in rehab and come out a different man, one who was willing to love his family and be able to live a normal life with the love he claimed for himself. but touya todoroki was not the protagonist. he was the villain, a villain who caused immeasurable damage and caused chaos and pain-- and villains always get bad endings. you had hoped that touya's good behavior would've been rewarded. every time you were granted visitation time he promised you he would give you the life he always wanted to give you-- he would give you that and more. he hadn't always been the best at giving, but rehab was making it possible for him. touya's good behavior was rewarded with an execution date. a measly two simple lines for any last requests-- (it was the only time he was sent to solitary, he bitched up a storm about making sure he got what he wrote on that paper) and a list with boxes for him to check which meal he would like to have before he died. and he gave you what he had always wanted to give you in one day. all of him, his soul, mind-- he couldn't give you his body since that would be taken by his family to be buried unfortunately, but they would never get his last thoughts or memories from him. those were yours. those were always you. you gave yourself to touya years ago. in return, he gave you his last day alive.

SOPHOMORE SLUMP OR COMEBACK OF THE YEAR - KEIGO TAKAMI — 'Cause I'll keep singing this lie / I'll keep singing this lie / Are we growing up or just going down? / It's just a matter of time until we're all found out / Take our tears and put them on ice / 'Cause I swear I'd burn this city down to show you the light

late. again. to be fair, keigo don't do it on purpose. he's a busy man, things slip from his mind. and yes, it's shitty that he forgets about certain things when it pertains to you-- but you knew what you were signing up for when the two of you started dating. you knew what was going to happen when he rose through the rankings and gained the number three spot so early, and then got to number two all of a sudden. you knew that. there's a harsh mix of emotions swirling in your gut. the straw in your drink has been chewed to the point where you could no longer drink out of it. the leather material you've been sitting on for the past forty-five minutes has grown uncomfortably warm. keigo, no-- hawks-- had gotten too cozy with telling you little white lies. you know him too well to see right through the mask he puts on to 'protect' you, the act-- as you would call it-- and you were wondering what was going to be your last straw. sitting here, by yourself at the cafe you met him at-- waiting for him. it was supposed to be a lunch date, he promised you he'd make it there even though you knew it was a lie. you knew it was a lie and you're still sitting in the same spot, and still waiting. you've already wasted enough time waiting for him, why not just a couple more pathetic minutes wiping away tears? why not waste just a few more moments wishing you would've grown up before meeting him? because if you had, you would not have made such a good home for yourself at rock bottom.

27 - TOMURA SHIGARAKI — Are all the good times getting gone? / They come and go and come and go and come and go / I've got a lot of friends who are stars / But some are just black holes / My mind is a safe / And if I keep it then we all get rich / My body is an orphanage / We take everyone in

when tomura spaces out, everyone just doesn't mention it. especially as of late, he's been zoning out and barely there-- at the league's bar more often than not with a glass of whiskey that he does not take a drink out of. he leaves it out on the bar most of the time and doesn't clean it-- kurogiri cleans up after him. like always. it's been rough since you left. the group struggled heavily; even if some didn't want to admit it. it's been taking twice longer than normal to perk up in the mornings when it was usually you who got him up with the coffee he likes, toga is more quiet than usual, and dabi doesn't buy cigarettes as often as he used to due to not having to share them with you. re-destro hasn't been reaching out as often. it's not like tomura minds it-- he's been wanting the space. and most meetings have been going the same; tomura shows up, usually with another member of the league-- and leaves with no progress on either end. it's not until tomura shows up with compress one day that re-destro snaps. going off about how something needed to change, something needed to happen-- he was fed up with how slow tomura had been acting the past few months. tomura and compress listened silently, almost like children getting scolded for having their hand in the cookie jar until your name is brought up. compress felt like he was watching in slow motion as tomura tensed, rising to his feet with a finger pointed scathingly towards the ginger. tomura's eyes flashed something dangerous-- something deadly. he looked like he was about five seconds from jumping the table and grabbing re-destro by the throat. compress reached a hand out to the fabric of tomura's pants-- but tomura was seething. "keep their name out of your mouth." tomura jerked away from compress' touch. he took the first few short steps before pausing again, his eyes still keenly trained on the man in front of him. "don't ever," his voice was practically spitting venom, "talk about them again. your mouth is nowhere near worthy enough to speak it." tomura's eyes were wild-- bright and on alert. like a feral animal being caged against it's will, choosing to fight instead of flee. this time, he was choosing to fight. whenever it came to you, he always backed down. ran from the situation that was bluntly put in front of him. denied it through and through until he couldn't lift his head from lack of sleep or drinking too much. the entire time he blamed you. the black hole of the group. sucking all the motivation and spirit the second you left. no, you were just a planet stuck in orbit; finally breaking free. tomura was the black hole.

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

Now for the real fun! While I have the main beats of the fight planned, Bakugou's other quirks aren't set in stone, so I'm welcoming suggestions.

First - Previous - Next

As a window cleaner I just wanna say, in universe, all high rise window cleaners' favorite hero is Hawks hands down. Homie is just. Up there. Like you know he smiles and waves every time he flies by so now he's like a coworker. Yeah that's my buddy Hawks. Sometimes when we have pizza up here he'll grab a slice. He's cool.

And If I Want It Soft?

includes— hawks x reader. smut. minors dni.

warnings— gn!reader. taking keigo's virginity.

If this is the corruption they warned him about, let it be sweet and let it be you.

It's hardly noticable; but Keigo gets nervous when you touch him like this. Like he's doing something wrong, something forbidden. His feathers twitch like they're prepared to detect his commission handlers stalking around the corner of his dim apartment hallway, forboding and scolding something shrill and calculated in his direction.

Instead, Keigo blanks at the way you touch him. Leans into your touch like a kitten, purring when you scratch his scalp. A blissed-out coo trills in Keigo's throat when your fingertips scritch at the feathery, baby blonde hairs where his skull meets his neck. A sweet sound. Innocent. Lovesick, those closed eyes and subtle smile.

But oh, the way Keigo stiffens when your hand follows the ridges of his spine down his neck like water over the rocks of a riverbank, splaying beneath the cotton of his shirt and flooding his senses there.

Keigo's body prepares for his handlers to scold him, now that he's got a pretty thing touching him all over— in ways the commission would surely balk at, too— but that doesn't happen. Instead, your sweet voice lulls him under the ocean waves again, soothing that overworked mind of his. Quieting it with gooey safety.

Calling him words like pretty, and sweet boy, and mine.

Can you blame Keigo for stirring beneath the waist? Honestly, it's quite inappropriate of him to be thinking these sorts of things about you. Your bare hand is massaging the tender junction between his shoulderblades beneath his shirt. His face is smushed against your chest, arms strewn over your body in bed. It's not like he can help whining a little in his throat, nosing at your body like he's thirsty for something more to wet his appetite.

He's a virgin. At his age in his twenties, too. Seen all that life as a hero and the poor thing has never gotten his cock wet. A shame.

You won't let that stay for long, though. He's sure. He wouldn't give it to anyone but you. And lord, God, angels in heaven— he wants you to take him.

But that isn't appropriate to say. So instead, Keigo lets the tension simmer. Luxuriates in it, lets himself sink into it like a hot bath.

Until next time. He thinks he'll let you touch him wherever you want, next time.

---

Where should he put his hands?

Your tongue is pressing against his, but it doesn't feel strange. Foreign, sure. Welcome, absolutely; but nothing about this is unnatural.

Still not used to this, Keigo closes his eyes and allows himself to moan. Judging by the way your lips quirked against his, he's sure he did something you liked. His heart sings at the thought and he huffs against your mouth.

He did good.

Subtle praise makes a man bold, and he decides to try his hand at making more sounds for you with the intention of infecting you back with that imposing heat you impart unto him— only this time, Keigo allows his tongue to curl around words.

Words like you're so beautiful, and I want you so badly, and mine, too.

Your soft hand palms at his cock over his hero uniform and Keigo nearly chokes on a sob, eyes rolling back like he just touched God.

Would it come across as desperate to reach down and undo his pants, himself? A stern voice sharply barks the word greedy in the back of his mind for liking this. Keigo whimpers and turns his head away as if it will help him escape the thought, but then—

"Greedy boy," you whisper, and Keigo's breath hitches with arousal.

"You like this," you ask. Reverent, not judging.

He does. He likes you.

Keigo must have nodded at some point, because your warm laughter and sympathetic mmhm, good boy make his shoulders fall lax and comfortable.

"Can you," Keigo dares to ask, eyes wide. "You don't have to, it's just—"

He hears his buttons undone.

---

This time, you're both wearing much less clothing and Keigo is the one on top. He wonders if you're feeling as exposed as he is; but he doesn't have to wonder if you also feel this right— Keigo can hear your thoughts through your body, now. A honed skill, an acquired dialect.

You did that thing you usually do to him, stole his breath through his cock and sucked his thoughts down your throat as if his body were some kind of holy ambrosia; but tonight, as you both discussed prior, Keigo wouldn't be finding release in your mouth.

When did the most erotic thing ever done to him become simply foreplay? He used to lose his mind at the way you fit him into your mouth, begging garbled pleas for forgiveness from something or someone unreachable for feeling this good. Now, it simply makes him hungrier.

"Like this," he mutters the question to you for guidance, congratulating himself for not choking the moment his fat tip presses against you, prodding at your entrance.

"Mm," you moan and the sound is like lightning down his cock, causing it to twitch. "A little lower. Then press forward and—"

A gasp. Possibly two. Fuck if Keigo can tell, stars swimming in clockwise circles around his head.

The heat of your hands grounds him, palms squished against his cheeks as he presses his forehead to yours, sinking inside.

"Breathe, darling," you smile.

"God, I'm— I, I'm trying," Keigo laughs, boyish, pretty, and golden. "Fuck, you feel so good."

"Right?"

You clench and shift your hips just for show and Keigo's jaw drops in a silent scream.

"You can do that? Don't do that," he whines, nosing into your neck. You feel his bare skin against you and his breath comes panting. You smile triumphantly.

"Sorry, sorry," you say. "I'm nervous, too. You just looked so cute. Your nose got all scrunched up and—"

As quickly as they bubbled up, the words are snatched in your throat like air lifted from your lungs. Keigo's firm hands pin your hips softly in place, grinding his body boldly against yours. Dragging himself deeply in your guts, knocking the breath out of you with pleasure.

As much as Keigo adores the sound of your voice, pillowy and seraphic, he needs to satiate this feeling in his chest somehow.

"It feels good for me, too." A kiss against his shoulder. "You take care of me so good. You're real gentle with me."

Like a lover, Keigo's mind completes for you.

Finally soft. Finally seen. Keigo blinks back the tears and kisses you again instead.

---

Keigo would be hesitant to admit the amount of research he did prior to undressing you, but in the end, it blanked from his mind entirely once you both started melding together. That being said, he does particularly recall most of the advice detailing how unrealistic and difficult it is to finish at the same time as your partner.

Huh. He supposes not everything you read online has to be true.

Your soft, sleepy breaths rouse Keigo from his daydreams, recounting in meticulous detail your eyes, your movement, your voice in the throes of it. One elbow props his body up, the thin sheets revealing more of his torso when he shifts over you.

Keigo tucks a stray hair of yours and watches your dreamy breaths, the rise and fall of your bare chest that was just against his own.

He should probably feel guilty for calling you his spouse already, but he doesn't. He supposes he never will.

Imagine Hawks confiding in Endeavor that he’s been sleeping with one of the League members and Endeavor is like “Whatever you have to do to get information, do it.” and then later realizes that he was encouraging Hawks to go fuck his son 💀💀💀