Hi everyone! I just wanted to let you know, in case you didn’t see, that my requests/ask box is open! You can request anything from the fandoms that I write for (haikyuu!, My Hero Academia, Attack On Titan, and Criminal minds) but here are a few ground rules:
1. I do not write anything nsfw
2. I might choose not to write if I am uncomfortable with the subject matter you request, for example, hangovers or the intake of alcohol since I am underage and don’t want to assume anything about that experience! I will definitely message you, letting you know if I can’t fulfill your request <3
3. I try my best to make my ‘x reader’ fics gender neutral, but sometimes they might stray towards a more feminine side since I am a girl. If you want the fic to be a specific gender (male, female, non-binary, gender neutral, etc.) just let me know!
4. Please specify which character(s) you want me to write for!
5. And last, but not least, specify whether you want a headcanon, scenario, or one-shot!
There is no limit to how many requests you can send in, so ask away! Also, if you just want to talk or gush about characters, new episodes of anime, or life in general, feel free to chat! I’ll always be someone you can talk to if you want me to be!
Hello everyone! I just thought I would reblog this to let everyone know that my requests are OPEN and that here are my request guidelines! Feel free to ask for as many situations, fics, one-shots, etc. as you would like! Also, if you want a place to chat or talk, I’m totally cool with that as well! Talk to me about the upcoming seasons for both MHA and AOT - I am so hyped for both - and if you want to talk about anything you’re watching now! For me, I’m rewatching Fruits Basket (it’s one of my favs!) and keeping up with SpyxFamily - it’s so good! I hope you all are safe happy and healthy!
Here you will find all things Dabi! Every oneshot, request, and multi-chapter fic I write about this fire wielding villain will be right here for you to see!
: What are you supposed to do when you’re dead friend is suddenly standing before you? : cursing, someone getting hit, mention of murder? : 2008 /: not my best work but o well….yeah also there’ll probably be part 2 to this
This wasn’t how Bakugou wanted his Friday night to turn out. He was supposed to come how to a quiet place. Silence and tranquillity enveloping him as he let himself fall onto the plush cushions of his couch. Maybe there would be a warm meal waiting for him if he was lucky. He could finally let his worn-out muscles take a break from the constant stress they’re under.
Something must have gone wrong somewhere. Or else he wouldn’t be here, standing before a mocking bunny mask. Floppy fabric ears and blood-stained cheeks staring back at him. The sewn-on grin seems to scream ‘punch me’.
“What thefuck are you doing here?” he snarls. He grits his teeth while trying to keep his explosions at bay.
The bunny simply tilts their head as they stay silent. Their long limbs seem to move spiderlike as their body turns. Bakugou’s eyes following their movement.
No. Shit. Fuck. The bunny tilts his head towards the other side as they snag a photo frame from the coffee table. Pointy fingers glide over the glass, lingering on a specific person in the picture.
Bile starts to rise in Bakugou’s throat. Its acidic bitterness only seems to light the fire to his aggression even more.
“Who the fuck are you?”. It’s useless, he knows. Like hell, a villain like ’The Bunny’ will just give up their identity. The silence is killing Bakugou. His nerves on edge and his muscles rippling as he struggles to constrain himself.
He lifts his hands, an explosion already blooming out of his palm. He is ready to blast whoever this might be into bits.
“That’s no way to treat your friends,” a distorted voice says. Great, so this bastard can speak. Bakugou opens his mouth, about to yell their ears of but a simple word shuts him up.
“Kacchan.”. His hand drops to his side his mouth hangs agape. He had dreamed of this moment. Fantasised about the moment he could apologize and hug his friend. He had planned out exactly what he would say. What he’d do, how he’d act. But this wasn’t in the plan.
The bunny’s pointy fingers come up to its face before ripping the mask off. A mop of green hair springs out from underneath. “Cat caught your tongue?” he asks mockingly before running those same fingers through his hair.
“How..”. Bakugou’s throat fails on him. His voice stops working. Is he crying? He wants to tell himself he’s not but he’s honestly not sure anymore. Knees buckling underneath him yet he still manages to keep himself standing up.
“How am I still alive?” Izuku finishes for him. He casts the mask aside, throwing it on the floor before letting his body fall onto the couch, the same couch Bakugou planned to rest on. He lazily drapes his arms over the top of it.
The casualness of his movements mocks Bakugou. As if he isn’t Japan’s most wanted criminal sitting on Japan’s number one hero’s couch.
“Everyone always asks that, you know?” he says he glances down at the picture frames he’s still holding. “It’s getting old.”. He lazily runs his finger over the glass.
“You died. I buried you. Inko fucking mourned you, she still does,” Bakugou says. His voice wavers and he hates himself for it. He’s showing weakness.
“You’d be surprised how easy it is to fake a death,” Izuku says.
Bakugou’s red eyes bore into his green ones. A silence hangs between them. It feels almost surreal to Bakugou. His mind hasn’t caught up to the fact that his friend, or rather ex-friend, is sitting before him and isn’t six feet underground.
While Bakugou’s movements are ragged and forced, Izuku almost seems comical. His body has seemed to adapt to his villainous life. A theatrical elegance laced into his movements.
“I don’t see you as a friend anymore,” he breaks out. Izuku’s eyes grow for a second and so does his smile. He straightens his back as he silently urges Bakugou on to speak.
“I buried my friend,” he says. “You’re not him. You might think you’re him but you’re not. He isn’t this pathetic.” He grits his teeth before lifting his hands again, getting ready to swing at him. Izuku quickly jumps up from the couch.
His eyes glint in mischief as he takes in the sight before him. “Oh, looks like you still haven’t dealt with your anger, Kacchan.”.
The nickname sets him off. He storms towards the green-haired man, fists raised and palms crackling from explosions. That is until he hears a familiar sound.
Both of them look towards the front door. Bakugou’s face slacks with shock while Izuku’s lights up with excitement. This isn’t supposed to happen. Why is this happening?
Izuku quickly moves the kick his mask underneath the couch before he places the picture frame back. Bakugou eyes linger on the picture for a second. It’s one of the three of you. Bakugou squished in between you and Izuku, his fingers raised behind both of your head to give you bunny ears. Oh, if he could just turn back time.
“'Suki?” you call out. Bakugou fears for his life, or rather, yours. Who knows what the crazed psychopath standing before him will do. “I thought I’d swing by and-”.
Your words stop as you walk into the living room. The bags in your hands drop. Soup spills out of the containers you so meticulous packed. Bright orange curry stains the spotless carpet beneath it. The hot liquid splashes up against your leg, most likely burning your skin though you don’t care.
You try to speak, mouthing opening and closing like a fish. This must be a dream, one of those horrible nightmares Kirishima often gets. That is until a familiar wobbly voice reaches your ears.
“Hi,bunny,” Izuku says. Within a second, he has closed the space between you. Your arms wrap around him instinctively. It’s an awkward hold. You used to be able to rest your chin on his head. Now, his muscled body towers over yours.
“Y-You’re…You’redead,” you whisper against his chest while nuzzling your cheek into him. His body heat seems to bring you a type of peace you haven’t known of in years.
“I know, I know,” he says while running his hands over your back. Sobs break out of your chest as your emotions seem to flow over. Salty rivers running past your burning cheeks and dripping into Izuku’s musky hoodie.
Your body shakes as you grab onto Izuku, painfully so. You’re sure you’re going to leave bruises on his sickly pale skin yet you can’t bring yourself to care. The aching in your chest that you’ve suppressed for years finally seems to boil over.
Hot and heavy emotions spill into your mind. You aren’t sure if the salty taste in your mouth is from biting your lip until blood gushes out of it or the tears streaming down uncontrollably. You’re sure that you look like a mess. Tears and snot dripping down your chin.
Instead of trying to see through your tear-blurred vision, you burry your face further into your friend’s chest.
He’s dead or at least supposed to be. You buried him, cried at his funeral and went through grief for him.
Yet here he is, in the flesh. His voice still sounds the same. He still smells the same. But he is not the same boy you knew years ago. His smile isn’t the same. And his scarred hands sure aren’t the same. Everything about him is the same, yet slightly different, giving you a mental whiplash.
“You have some fucking explaining to do,” Bakugou says. His voice breaks you out of your trance. You pull away from Izuku, your body immediately screaming in protest. You look up at him. It feels strange, you used to be at least a head taller than him
“How the fuck are you still alive?”. Bakugou doesn’t have time for nicknames or formality. Not when he knows that the man standing before him has the blood of at least a hundred on his hands.
Izuku steps away from you, unwinding his arms from your body. Bakugou quickly strides over and pulls you away from the offending man. He pushes you behind him while one hand still grips onto your arm. You want to ask him what the fuck he’s doing but Izuku starts talking before you can.
“It’s a long story,” he says. “Can’t tell you everything but, long story short, I had to fake my death. Some guys were after me but it’s all fixed now!”. The vagueness mixed with his eerie smile only makes him look more like a psychopath.
“All fixed? All-fucking-fixed?”. Boiling anger rising to Bakugou’s head, clouding his thinking. He taking quick steps up to his ex-friend. Izuku doesn’t even flinch when Bakugou grabs onto his neck tightly. “You left. Fucking made us think you’re dead and you think you can just come in and say that everything is fixed?”.
Spit flies out of his mouth and lands on Izuku’s cheek, a shiver of disgust running over his spine at the feeling. Yet the green-haired man can’t stop the excitement from bubbling up at seeing his friend so rilled up.
“Bakugou, Jesus fuck, calm down,” you say. This situation should probably feel more serious than it is. Yet the shock still evident in your body and the adrenaline clouding your mind makes you unable to properly process it all.
“Like hell, I’ll calm down!”. Bakugou finally lets go of Izuku’s throat. A set of cough falls out of the green-haired man’s throat. He smirks as he glances down at the aggressive blond.
“Come on, Kacchan, we shouldn’t do this in front of our little bunny,” Izuku says with a smirk. The gears finally seem to click in his mind. Suddenly, the bunny mask, the name, the costume, it all makes sense.
“You sick fuck!” Bakugou yells before landing a hit square on Izuku’s jaw. He stumbles back a bit, taken aback at Bakugou’s sudden outburst. The blond takes the opportunity to land another punch right on his nose.
A wet crunch sounds through the room. You cringe as you feel bile rise in your throat from the sound. “Izuku!” you yell out as you try to get to your friend or ex-friend, you’re not sure.
Bakugou stops you thought, his arms wrapping around your body and spinning you away from the green-haired freak. You pound your hand on his arms pleading with him to let you go but your ministrations do nothing to the number one hero.
Izuku laughs as he wipes away the blood dripping from his nose, tainting the grimy grey of his hoodie with it. “You’re gonna regret that, Kacchan,” he says. Bakugou doesn’t even give him the light of day as he makes his way out of his apartment with light speed
Your throat grows dry and painful as you plead Bakugou to let you. To let you go to him. “It’s okay, he’s gone,” Bakugou says.
You shake your head violently as you claw at his back, trying to get his arms to loosen their hold. “I need to see him. I gotta-I gotta see him. Suki,please!”. The hoarseness of your voice shoots painful stabs into Bakugou’s heart.
But he doesn’t let his mind linger too long, running down the stairs two steps at a time. All he can focus on is getting you away from that creep before he can touch you again.
“Please, I can’t leave him again,” you sob out. Bakugou simply lays on hand on the back of your head, pulling you even closer to him. Thankfully he doesn’t see Izuku following behind him.
“Please, not again,” you say before your voice bursts out in sobs again. Fuck, how much Bakugou wants to blast that fuckers skull in. He’s sure his friends at the police force wouldn’t mind turning a blind eye for him. But that’ll have to wait until later. Now he needs to focus on keeping you safe, safe from him.
: you didn’t expect your night to end a strangers bedroom with not one, but two hot men. But who are you to complain? : alcohol, mention of weed, griding? kissing : 2674 /: did I already post this? yes. did I delete it cuz I hated it? also yes. anyways, @uhhh-i-like-yaoi here u fucking
Truth be told, you didn’t know what to expect when Mirio dragged you along to this party. All you wanted to do was lay in your bed and fall asleep but here you were, dressed in a way too tight outfit dancing along to shitty music.
The six shots you took before stumbling over to the dancefloor finally start to kick in. The soft buzz of alcohol flowing through your veins as you let your body move. Your hips sway along to the music while your hands run up and down your body.
It was probably the number of lustful gazes you got in this outfit but your confidence was skyrocketing. You open your eyes slightly as you gaze over the dancing crowd. Most people are grinding against each other like animals in heat, though one guy is standing stiffly amidst the crowd.
His dark eyes lock with yours. A smirk plasters itself on your lips as you curl your fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion. The guy’s cheeks burn into a bright red as he takes quick strides towards you.
Once he’s close enough, you wrap your arms around his neck and press his body against yours. “Hey, handsome,” you say. His body stiffens as he looks down at you.
“Wanna dance with me?” you ask. He quickly nods as awkwardly places his hands on your hips. You move one hand from his neck to his ears, fingers carefully running over one of the pointy tips.
A whiney moan falls from his lips as he instinctively grabs onto your hips tighter. “I’m Tamaki,” he says. His deep voice sends heat to pool between your legs.
“I’m Y/n,” you say before turning around. He moans as you press your ass against his crotch. You can feel the muscles of his chest and abs against your back as you press yourself against him.
One of his hands travels down to press your hips against his while the other moves to caress your neck. His hips start to move against you, swaying in sync with yours.
You two stay like that for a while, grinding against each other to the beat of the songs playing. Your lustful dancing gets interrupted when a raven-haired man moves to dance in front of you.
Scarred skin adorned his face multiple piercings glow under the multi-coloured light. Three on his nouse and two on his bottom lip. His rough appearance makes you desperately want to press yourself against him, though he beats you to it.
He moves to press his hips against yours, his face moving to press itself into the crook of your neck. Burning lips press desperate kisses against your skin. His teeth drag themselves over your neck, earning whiney moans from you.
Tamaki groans with jealousy. You were dancing with him first, why is this guy suddenly getting all your attention? He moves to kiss the other side of your neck.
You feel like your on cloud nine as both men sandwich you between them. Your hips rut against Tamako’s while your hands caress the other men.
“I’m Dabi,” he says. Good, so he has a name. You moan out his name as he sucks on your neck. You’ll probably have some hickeys tomorrow but there’s nothing a good old turtleneck won’t cover.
The three of you get lost in the music, swaying and grinding against each other. The alcohol takes its full effect as your mind become fuzzy and warm. Movements blur together as all you can focus on become the feeling of both Tamaki’s and Dabi’s bodies pressed against yours.
Their hands roam over your body, grabbing and squeezing any flesh they can. You probably shouldn’t be dancing like this with strangers. But you knew their names, they aren’t strangers anymore, right?
You push your doubtful thoughts to the side as you press your ass against Tamaki. He groans into your ears and he lets his head rest in the crook of your neck. You look at Dabi with half-lidded eyes.
Mischief glints in his eyes before he reaches a hand out to cup your face. He pulls you towards him and captures your lips with his. The roughness of his lower lip compared to his pillowy upper one makes you moan into his mouth.
His tongue glides over your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You place another sloppy kiss against his rough lips before letting your parts slightly. Dabi quickly pushes his tongue in, exploring your mouth.
You groan at his taste. Smokey yet fresh, like someone set a field full of mint ablaze. Tamaki pulls away from you slightly to enjoy the sight in front of him.
Dabi’s hungry hands running over your body and your needing whines. It almost feels wrong to watch you two. Tamaki pushes himself over the edge and starts to place wet kisses onto your neck. You moan at the feeling of his teeth scraping against your skin. He leaves hickey after hickey, not caring about who might see them.
Ecstasy runs through your veins. Your nerves are tingling at the touch of the two men. You’re pretty sure you’ve died and gone to heaven, that’s the only explanation for this divine feeling.
“Do-Do you want to get-fuck. Get out of here?” Tamaki says loud enough for both you and Dabi to hear. “M-My place is just around the corner.”.
You pull away from Dabi, letting your head rest against Tamaki’s chest instead. Nodding against him, you looking at Dabi. Lust clouds his azure as he licks his lips sinfully. “God, yes,” he growls. Tamaki locks his hand with yours while the other rests on Dabi’s shoulder. He drags both of you out of the dancing crowd. Sweaty bodies bump into yours though you can’t bring yourself to care.
You don’t even register that you’ve left the party until the old night air hits your skin. Tamaki wraps his arm around your waist as he looks behind him for Dabi.
The raven-haired is fishing a carton of cigarettes out of his pocket. Tamaki sends him a sharp look though he only shrugs at it. He places a cigarette between his lips before taking lazy strides towards the two of you.
“Want one too, hotty?” he asks as he holds the carton out for you. You reach out to grab one but Tamaki slaps your hand away.
“Don’t,” he says lowly. His growly voice sends heat through your body. “I don’t need you two to smell like smoke.”.
Dabi rolls his eyes before stuffing the cigarette that was dangling from his lips back where it belonged. “You’re no fun,” he groans.
Tamaki simply shrugs before starting to walk towards his apartment. While he still has his arm around you, Dabi hand creeps down to rest in right against your ass. He gives it a squeeze earning a squeal from you and a chuckle from him.
You three remain relatively quiet for the rest of the walk. You bask in the fogginess the alcohol has left in your mind. A droopy smile adorns your lips and your steps are slightly wobbly, though you have Dabi and Tamaki to help you walk straight.
It’s only now that you see the flush on Tamaki’s skin and the haze in his eyes. He clearly had his fair share of drinks himself. And even though Dabi seems sober, the sticky sweet smell of weed wafting of him tells you differently.
Tamaki suddenly comes to a halt. He unwraps his arm from you and starts to fish his keys out of his pocket. Dabi takes this opportunity to smoothly press you against the wall. The cold bricks hit your burning skin.
His breath fans over your face. You try to push your lips against his but he just pulls away with a teasing grin. “Come on,” Tamaki says as he holds the door open for the two of you.
You stumble into the building. The hot air circulating through the house is a stark difference from that of the cold night. “Up the stairs,” Tamaki says with slurred words.
The three of you stumble of the steep staircase, praying to God that none of you trip and fall. You giggle to yourself as you think about how badly this situation can go. You, drunk off your ass in some strangers home.
Your worries get silenced when you see some of Tamaki’s roommates walking around the house. The fact that there are others around in case the two men have malicious intents makes your muscles relax.
That’s when you spot a familiar blond mop of hair. “Mirio?” you call out. Your tall friends turn around to face you. A girl with bright purple hair is clinging onto him, kissing up and down his neck. You had no clue when he left the club.
“Hey!” he says with a smile. “What are you doing here?”. His eyes dart over to Tamaki and Dabi stumbling up the
stairs after you. “Oh, I see. Have fun!”.
He sends you a wink before darting into his room with the girl. “Didn’t know you knew 'im,” you slur. Tamaki nods before pointing to a deep purple door, most likely his.
“I know him from school,” he says before striding over to his door and holding it open for you and Dabi. “And he’s my roommate.”.
Dabi darts past you and into the room. He lets himself fall down onto the small couch in Tamaki’s room. “Nice place you got here,” he says. “Real nice.”. His calloused fingertips run over the plush material of the couch.
Tamaki lays his hand on the small of your back before leading you into his room, closing the door behind him. Sweet citrus flows into your nose. His room is spotless. Light blue led lights illuminate the room.
“Want a drink?” he asks both of you before stumbling over to the mini-fridge standing beside his desk. You nod before walking over to the couch and letting yourself fall down next to Dabi.
Dabi wraps his arms around your shoulder and pulls you to lay comfortably against his chest. The rhythmic beating of his heart calms you down even further.
Tamaki pulls three bottles of beer out of the fridge, holding them up in the air for you to see. Dabi nods approvingly prompting Tamaki to open the bottles up for you all.
The soft pops of the caps being removed sound through the room. After the bottles are opened he walks over to the couch. You greedily grab the ice-cold bottle out of his hands before he sits down himself, beside Dabi.
You take a sip of the beer, savouring the bitter tingle it leaves in your throat. Dabi takes a swig of the bottle as well while Tamaki keeps on staring at the bed in front of him.
“Got some music?” Dabi asks. Tamaki nods. He pulls his phone out, quickly connecting with the speakers in his room. He opens up Spotify before handing the phone to Dabi.
“Y-You choose,” he says before finally taking a sip of his beer. Dabi smirks as he browses through the app.
You perch up as familiar tunes start to fill the room. “Arctic Monkeys? Jezus christ, you’re predictable,” you say before taking another chug of your beer.
“Shut the fuck up. It’s good music. Besides,” Dabi says before leaning in to whisper in your ear. “It’s good music to fuck too.”.
Heat rushes up to your face. You already guessed that that was the reason why Tamaki asked you to go to his place. But Dabi confirming your suspicions still makes you get flustered.
Tamaki chokes on his beer as he hears Dabi talks. Dabi chuckles as he gives Tamaki’s back a couple of slaps. “There there, shy-boy,” he says. Tamaki holds his hand up to signal Dabi to stop. He obliges and leans back into the couch again.
It stays quiet for a moment as the three of you sip on your beers. Dabi’s hand slowly creeps up your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh slightly.
“Bunny,” Tamaki says. You gulp at the nickname, fuck, is it hot. “Why don’t you come to sit on my l-lap for a bit?”. His dark eyes bore into yours. You nod before handing Dabi your beer.
His eyes are glued on your eyes as you crawl over him before sitting down on Tamaki’s lap. “You’re so pretty like this,” he says. Your skin is flushed, eyes droopy and smile loopy. One of his hands rests on your hip as the other moves to caress your cheek.
“You’re gonna be a good little bunny for us, right?” he asks as he glances over to Dabi. He is still sipping his beer while his eyes are focused on your hips and the way they subconsciously grind into Tamaki’s.
“If you don’t want this, just-just tell me,” Tamaki says. You shake your head as your hands move to play with Tamaki’s hair. “You gotta say it.”.
“I want this,” you say. A smile creeps up on Tamaki’s lips. He leans in closer. You quickly take the hint and press your lips against his.
The bitter of the beer he just drank still lingers on his lips. His lips move against yours softly and sloppily. His hand cups your cheek while yours tug softly on his hair.
He lets out a groan at a particularly harsh tug. Your hips grind into his on the beat of the music. Tamaki relishes in the heat radiating off your body. Your soft skin pressed against his, your sweet taste on his lips and fingers tugging on his hair.
Tamaki pulls away, earning a whine from you. “Fuck, bunny,” he groans out. Your hips don’t stop their movements even when you can feel him becoming hard under you. You let your head rest against Tamaki’s chest as you look at Dabi.
He is still holding onto a bottle of beer in one hand while the other is palming himself through his jeans. He licks his lip, running over the cold metal of his piercings.
“You two sure know how to put on a show,” he says. His voice borders a growl, making it all the hotter. You make grabby hands towards him.
Dabi obliges by placing his beer on the floor next to the couch and leaning forward until his body is pressed against Tamaki’s. He starts to run his hands over your body. His fingertips linger around your hips and thighs.
“Whatever will we do with you?” he asks while looking at Tamaki. The indigo-haired in question leans towards Dabi to whisper something in his ear.
All you can do is stay seated in Tamaki’s lap and grind your hips against his at an agonizingly slow pace. The small amount of friction goes straight to your stomach and helps to build up the knot forming.
Dabi smirks at Tamaki’s words before he stands up off the couch. “Baby,” he coons. “Why don’t you go sit on the bed and be nice and pretty for us?”. His cooky grin makes your heart skip a beat.
Tamaki nods at you as he lifts his hands off your body. With wobbly steps, you make your way over to the bed. You sit down on it, noting the plushness of the covers.
Dabi and Tamaki take their stand before you. They gaze down at you with lust in their eyes. “Think you can handle the two of us, baby?” Dabi asks. You nod at his words.
“Of course they can,” Tamaki adds. He takes a step closer to you to gently cup your cheek. You melt into his touch. God, you could stay like this forever. “You’ll be a good bunny for us, right?”.
“If not, we might have to punish you,” he adds, earning a chuckle from Dabi. You look up at the two men through your lashes. You can’t help but get turned on beyond belief at the sight of them. You’re in for a long night, that’s for sure.
hi check out my denki-centric bakusquad rock band au if u want, here’s the summary and tags so i dont need to explain it further chapter 3 will be posted later tonight !!
so about that bakusquad rock band au that I mentioned I was writing it’s getting somewhere but I still need a name for the band and the main bar that’s important to the story and I’m seriously blanking so pls pls pls dm me or reply with any suggestions you might have for naming them pls✌
im writing this fic that’s like a rock band bakusquad AU from denki’s pov and it’s so chaotic fodmjdjdk. there is stoner bassist sero and like mina on the vocals, drummer baku and guitarists kami and kiri and they practice in Sero’s basement bc I’m cliche af
and like there is kamibaku as kinda fwb but then shinsou comes along because he works at a bar they do gigs at fimddnsksm and like there are also like kiribaku undertones, like some unrequited feelings on bakugou’s part and istg kamibaku is a crackship of mine so I just plopped my actual ships in this mess and it’s getting pretty interesting but I honestly dont know who would read this fofmdndkdmdjdkd
Underdogs is an MHA Fashion Magazine focused on the underrated students and heroes of MHA! It includes both written and illustrated works from a variety of creators who you can find in our contributor list!
Pre-orders will be open from September 3rd, 2021 until November 5th, 2021, at 11:59 PM EST!
hey y’all :) i’m not much of an artist but i’ve fallen in love with the bnha fanfic Canary by @cloud-nine-and-three-quarters so here’s midoriya with his wings!! i recommend this story to everyone
To celebrate this blog reaching 10k followers and for getting me through some tough times over the last…wow, year and half, I thought it would be fun to hop on the collab trend so we can all write together!
The theme is all things classic literature, art, and film!
This can be way back classics, like the Illiad, or maybe something more modern like The Handmaid’s Tale, or whatever you consider a classic in your life. Could be Van Gogh paintings, Greek Mythology, even Twilight. Whatever inspires you! [Catch me writing a Jane Eyre AU and about Dragon Age, probably e;rgbe]
So the answer is yes, if you consider it classic literature, art, film, video game, whatever it is, createit!
This collab is open to All Fandoms!
Send me an ask or a dm— off anon, I need to know who to tag—with your character choice [let me know the fandom too just in case I am unfamiliar with them!]
And pleases tag me in your submissions so I can find them—or send me a link, just make sure I get you on the list!
This collab will remain open until the due date, so anyone can be added up until then!
Thedue date is Friday, July 23rd! [late submissions are fine, but I would love to have as many as possible to post and circulate on the due date!]
Rules:
♡ Youmust be 18+ to enter, with your age visible on your blog. I will be checking each and every person who asks to join, and I will decline anyone who doesn’t verify their age.
♡ All characters must be adults, age them up appropriately if need be, no exceptions.
♡ You are allowed up to twoentries, with any character you so choose. Multiple people can write for the same character!
♡ NSFW Content is allowed and expected, but feel free to create SFW content, too!
♡ Dark content of any kind is welcome! Please give appropriate trigger warnings on your post.
♡ While character x reader is what I write, shipfics are also welcome! Kacchako, Hannigram, Eruri, create whatever makes you happiest.
♡ There is no required word count or format. Headcanons, drabbles, long fics, multi-chaptered fics, digital art, hand drawn, it’s all good! If you’ll have multiple parts, just let me know so I can formulate the masterlist accordingly.
♡ Art and media of any kind is welcome as well!
♡ Please let me know if you need to drop / if you want to switch to a new character, I do not mind at all!
♡ Write whatever inspires you and makes you happy—I know the theme is Classics, but I’ll probably let just about anything fly, because it’s about the joy of writing and creativity!
♡ If you have any questions, send me an ask or a dm! I’ll try to respond as quickly as possible.
Please tag me and link the masterlist in your post!
Also a thank you to @chiwhorei for help with these banners!
To celebrate this blog reaching 10k followers and for getting me through some tough times over the last…wow, year and half, I thought it would be fun to hop on the collab trend so we can all write together!
The theme is all things classic literature, art, and film!
This can be way back classics, like the Illiad, or maybe something more modern like The Handmaid’s Tale, or whatever you consider a classic in your life. Could be Van Gogh paintings, Greek Mythology, even Twilight. Whatever inspires you! [Catch me writing a Jane Eyre AU and about Dragon Age, probably e;rgbe]
So the answer is yes, if you consider it classic literature, art, film, video game, whatever it is, createit!
This collab is open to All Fandoms!
Send me an ask or a dm— off anon, I need to know who to tag—with your character choice [let me know the fandom too just in case I am unfamiliar with them!]
And pleases tag me in your submissions so I can find them—or send me a link, just make sure I get you on the list!
This collab will remain open until the due date, so anyone can be added up until then!
Thedue date is Friday, July 23rd! [late submissions are fine, but I would love to have as many as possible to post and circulate on the due date!]
Rules:
♡ Youmust be 18+ to enter, with your age visible on your blog. I will be checking each and every person who asks to join, and I will decline anyone who doesn’t verify their age.
♡ All characters must be adults, age them up appropriately if need be, no exceptions.
♡ You are allowed up to twoentries, with any character you so choose. Multiple people can write for the same character!
♡ NSFW Content is allowed and expected, but feel free to create SFW content, too!
♡ Dark content of any kind is welcome! Please give appropriate trigger warnings on your post.
♡ While character x reader is what I write, shipfics are also welcome! Kacchako, Hannigram, Eruri, create whatever makes you happiest.
♡ There is no required word count or format. Headcanons, drabbles, long fics, multi-chaptered fics, digital art, hand drawn, it’s all good! If you’ll have multiple parts, just let me know so I can formulate the masterlist accordingly.
♡ Art and media of any kind is welcome as well!
♡ Please let me know if you need to drop / if you want to switch to a new character, I do not mind at all!
♡ Write whatever inspires you and makes you happy—I know the theme is Classics, but I’ll probably let just about anything fly, because it’s about the joy of writing and creativity!
♡ If you have any questions, send me an ask or a dm! I’ll try to respond as quickly as possible.
Please tag me and link the masterlist in your post!
Also a thank you to @chiwhorei for help with these banners!
To celebrate this blog reaching 10k followers and for getting me through some tough times over the last…wow, year and half, I thought it would be fun to hop on the collab trend so we can all write together!
The theme is all things classic literature, art, and film!
Going Live Friday, July 23rd!
Please tag me and link the masterlist in your post!
To celebrate this blog reaching 10k followers and for getting me through some tough times over the last…wow, year and half, I thought it would be fun to hop on the collab trend so we can all write together!
The theme is all things classic literature, art, and film!
Going Live Friday, July 23rd!
Please tag me and link the masterlist in your post!
Here’s a sample from the story I wrote featuring the unlikely bond between Bakugou and Recovery Girl
“Why am I even here?” he growls, knowing exactly why he’s there. Katsuki Bakugou is stuck in detention at the nurse’s centre, furiously scrubbing bedpans and giving the stink-eye to the grey-haired woman filing paperwork at her desk.
Three weeks ago he’d been showing his classmates the real meaning of power when Aizawa had intervened, cutting his quirk and landing him with this bogus punishment.
“You nearly decapitated a fellow student,” she says bluntly, taking a sip of her tea. “And you’re not the first one to get shunted into my office because Nezu thinks I can put out a dumpster fire.”
Five weeks left.
She should have seen it. Glorious. The whole “no student fighting” rule be damned. Bakugou Katsuki exists to prepare those other weaklings for the real world. And teach them what being a hero is all about.
“Not my fault he should’ve ducked,” he grumbles, wiping his brow. “And I’m not exactly learning anything about ‘compassion’ by scrubbing shitbins, now am I?”
She doesn’t answer. But she does glance over at her vibrating phone. “We’re about to have a visitor. Finish your job and I’ll let you tie a sprain bandage.”
Most of the time, she sits up at her desk; head hardly ever in his direction, yet somehow still able to watch him like a hawk. She’ll notice the second he puts down a broom or stops scrubbing. She’ll ask if he’s tired. She’s taunting him.
Three weeks he’s been here. Every day, after class. Three weeks in a wing of the school legally required when the curriculum involves fighting giant robots just to attend. He’s mopped floors, disinfected everything he’s set eyes upon, taken inventory of medical supplies, and on occasion, she’s sat him down to learn basic first aid. Normally things are slow, but… accidents happen.
A/N: Here is your reward for enduring last week lmao. This one is a bit long, but cutting it up just didn’t seem as gratifying so I hope you guys enjoy.
Also, thank you so much for all the kudos, comments and bookmarks on AO3 and FFN– you guys are too kind :’). I’ll try posting more regularly on Tumblr too if ppl wanna read it here. Let me know what y'all think~
There was darkness, then flickers of lights and the occasional overwhelming flow of noises before it ebbed to silence and darkness yet again. First, she felt she was on a hard surface like concrete, then cold metal, then something cushion-like… a bed? Her thoughts were incoherent, presenting more as disjointed words and feelings. Anger, regret, hurt, with a sprinkle of sadness on top. Her body was heavy, every limb feeling as though the blood had been replaced with lead. Her head lolled and she heard someone suddenly shift at her side, the bed dipping under the pressure of said someone leaning on it and over her but was too out of it to open her eyes. Acquiescing, she fell back into unconsciousness.
An indefinite amount of time passed while she was in the darkness before her senses began to return fully. She heard typing, now able to feel a presence nearby. She wanted to open her eyes, but the task seemed too daunting still, simply listening would have to be enough for now.
“I can stand watch for now, if you’d like.” One voice offered, softly.
“What I’d like is to be left alone.” The other replied curtly.
“I see. We’re going to leave in the next few hours, I’ll get everyone ready.”
“You do that.”
Well this guy sounds like a treat… Nanami thought, her sarcasm unsurprisingly returning before the rest of her senses and memories. There were footsteps and then a soft thud, like a door being carefully shut. A couple moments passed before she heard what sounded like a laptop being closed, then footsteps coming towards her, and then silence. She desperately wanted to wake up, but her body refused to cooperate, causing her eyes to flutter behind her eyelids as she struggled in vain to move. She could sense the presence hadn’t left and she felt anxious as to what might happen next before hearing a sigh. She felt a sheet being pulled up to cover her arms, where goosebumps had been forming from the draft in wherever she was.
“I’ll deal with you when I get back.” The voice said with a hint of annoyance, though it was betrayed by its gentle tone. Hearing footsteps growing fainter, a door opened and closed once more. The words themselves were threatening but the way they were spoken, she felt oddly comforted. Falling back into the darkness, she decided to cultivate her energy and try her luck at waking up again later.
Emerging from the darkness again, the pain began immediately. Her head throbbed and she reflexively tried to groan but found her mouth and throat painfully full. Instantly recognizing the feeling, panic set in, the only other thing she could perceive being the desperate need for it to stop. She grabbed the tube, disassembling and reassembling it outside her body. The large obstruction dropped unceremoniously to the floor and she coughed, glad to be rid of it.
“Don’t be so rough with the equipment.”
She rolled her head to the direction of the voice, a bright light hitting her eyes as she struggled to open them for the first time since… Damn. It all came rushing back to her at once, the voice no longer a mystery. Her vision focused and she found herself looking at Overhaul as he sat at her bedside. His mask was on as he stared at her blankly. She stared back for a beat, not knowing how to begin speaking about what brought them to this point. Deciding she should be fully awake and rested for that conversation, she mentally tabled it, opting for their usual banter instead.
“It’s still intact isn’t it?” She cleared her throat, massaging it as she continued, “How long was I out?”
“Three days.”
“THREE DAYS?” Her eyes shot wide, another coughing fit beginning as she raised her voice after not speaking for days.
“Yes, that’s what I said.” He grimaced, moving back a bit at her sudden outburst, “Cough in the other direction.”
“No surprise that your bedside manner could use some work.” She sighed as she adjusted to raise herself up, wincing as her sore muscles tried their best to comply. He promptly rose, putting a pillow behind her as she sat up, his expression blank yet attentive, “Thanks.”
He nodded as he took his seat again and the silence continued, painfully. It felt like their first meeting all over again, neither knowing how to broach the awkward topic. Looking back, Nanami was angry at how insufferably rude he could be but couldn’t ignore her own part in this. A pang of guilt sat heavily in her chest when she remembered how easily she let her emotions get the best of her; she hadn’t told someone off like that in ages. In her mind, it in no way absolved him, but to say it was all his fault would be a lie. In that moment of rage, she… What did I do anyway? She glanced down, now more confused than anything, her brows furrowing before looking at him.
“Let’s chat.”
He readjusted in his chair, leaning back as he crossed his legs and folded his arms across his chest, “Let’s.”
His body language oozed condescension as though she was about to be scolded like a child and she hated it, “Why’d you attack me. Again.”
His eyes narrowed, displeased with how she was beginning their talk,” That was going to be my question to you. I thought we had a deal.”
“What are you talking about? We did—we do—I did not attack you.” she defended. Nanami knew they were both wrong for getting so worked up, but she wouldn’t stoop that low over an argument. “I was wrong, we both were for getting so heated, but I wouldn’t just start throwing hands like that. So again, why did you attack me? I thought… I thought we got passed all that.”
His brow furrowed at the implication, his jaw clenching uncomfortably at the hurt in her voice, “We are. We’re far passed all of that.” He intoned with a level of sincerity that seemed foreign to him. Having spent the past three days chastising himself for putting her in this position, wishing the exchange could be taken back, it was difficult to sound detached. He’d been angry, but harming her had been something he’d put out of his mind some time ago, “I didn’t attack you either…”
They both shared a moment of sincere confusion. Overhaul hadn’t come out unscathed either, having to heal his own head injury as well as a cracked vertebra from the impact once he came to. “Then what the hell happened?” Nanami asked, speaking the question they were both wrestling with. She looked around the room for her bag at the same time Overhaul reached for his laptop.
“We should run tests.” They said in unison. He handed her her notebook from the bag and a pen as they began noting exactly what happened leading up to the explosion. As she recalled the events, there were a number of theories that came to mind, as well as ideas on how to safely perform reenactments of what transpired, but she also remembered the argument beforehand. He was somehow even more quiet than usual, and she could tell his gears were turning that morning, but the hostility seemed so out of the blue. Putting down her pen, he glanced up at her, noticing the sound of her writing had stopped and she was staring down thoughtfully.
“Did you think of something?”
“…Yeah. I did. Why’d you pick a fight with me that day?”
He looked back down at his keyboard and continued typing, “I don’t know what you mean. That little tiff was a joint effort.”
“No, no, no. It may have ended up that way, but you blew up at me after an entire week of solid teamwork. I expect the snide comments and the general air of grumpiness, but that was different… What happened?” He made the mistake of making eye contact with her. She didn’t look angry, just hurt.
Taken aback, all he could manage was “… I don’t know.” He wasn’t sure how to respond to that “emotion” nor did he have any plans to discuss feelings. If he was being honest, he wasn’t even sure why he did it himself. Perhaps it was self-sabotage and he was pushing her away, but to accept that would mean acknowledging they had gotten close; that he had, at some point, made the subconscious decision to stop viewing her as a pawn or even just a colleague, and to indulge the need for far more than their formal arrangement. He wasn’t ready to come to terms with the possible loss of his objectivity when it came to whatever went on between them, but he knew he’d have to confront the undercurrents of their relationship at some point. Right now, they had discovered a possible breakthrough in their research and there was no room for delay. With a ghost of a plan in mind for how to move forward with Nanami, he decided it would be more logical to smooth things over in the immediate moment with Dr. Watanabe; separating the two identities giving him the illusion of control. He continued” But I do know it won’t happen again. That was…unprofessional. How is your head?”
She bit her lip and exhaled, seeing the switch flick in his eyes knowing the wall had been put back up. “It’s… it’s fine. Just a little—no, really sore.” She confirmed with herself, rubbing her hand over the source of the pain to find stiches. Why wouldn’t he just overhaul this? “So, you decided to fix this the old-fashioned way, huh? The stitchwork is impeccable, but why go through the trouble? You could have just—”
“I didn’t want to touch you.”
“… Ouch.” She winced, glancing away as the abrupt response hurt a bit more than she expected.
Realizing it hadn’t been received how he planned, he clarified,” I meant I…didn’t want to use it on you. I was under the impression we had somehow attacked each other and assumed you might not find the prospect of me handling you in that way all that appealing.”
“…Oh. Well, thank you… I don’t mind if you touch me now” he rose a brow at this, “—I mean like to heal or—Oh you know what I mean.” She rolled her eyes before crossing her arms and continuing, “Just… just do it, please.” The last word tacked on with a mumble.
Letting out an amused breath, he rose, motioning her to turn so her back faced him as he removed his gloves. She quickly brushed her hair to the side, missing a few strands. She tensed as he was much closer than she was prepared for, feeling the warmth of his hands against the nape of her neck as he gently gathered the stray hairs and handed them to her to gather in front. Smoothing down the part, he leisurely ran his hands through her hair, losing himself for a second before noticing the tops of her ears had reddened and her breath had quickened at his ministrations. Refocusing, he disassembled the stitches before immediately healing the wound knowing even a millisecond of delay would prove very painful. “Done.”
Cracking her neck and rolling her shoulders, she felt normal again and ready to get out of bed as her muscles had been unused for the better part of three days. Checking the time on her phone on the nightstand she saw it was only 6 am, “So, you wanna go for a run?”
“That’s not funny.”
“Fine, fine. But on a serious note, I think we should head to the lab. I know the deal was 2 weeks bu—”
“You don’t have to bargain. Get cleaned up, I’ll start preparations for testing tomorrow.”
She turned to him, brows raised in surprise, “Well okay then. I’ll see you back at the house.”
“See you there.” He said before exiting her room, shutting the door softly.
After a thorough scrubbing and stretching, she felt ready to get back to her remaining paperwork, putting on her favorite chunky turtleneck and sweatpants effectively pulling off the lazy-but-still-fashionable look. Brewing herself a cup of tea and pulling out her workbag, she thought it best to not dwell on all the Feels ™ that had continuously threatened to surface, which was undoubtedly exacerbated by their current living situation.
She was woman enough to admit she stared just a little too long, smiled just a bit too enthusiastically, and was way too excited by even the smallest bits of physical contact with him… But it’s just a crush. She lied to herself as though he hadn’t been the most intellectually stimulating person she’d had the pleasure of talking to. As though she’d ever felt silence more comfortable than their time in the lab or simply sharing meals together. As though— Girl if you don’t concentrate… She chastised herself before attempting to neatly compartmentalize her feelings, refusing to acknowledge just how much more difficult keeping them in check had become. It’s just because you’re all up under each other, it’ll pass.
Refocusing on the task at hand, she opened her laptop and pulled out a well-worn file folder, her gaze turning somber as her fingers traced the bend of it; evidence of the many nights she’d revisited it only to close it when the answers didn’t come. In the past month she’d taken on a patient who seemingly had nowhere to go. Many of her colleagues had turned him away, seemingly too jaded to go through the trouble of dealing with such a case. Nanami herself was puzzled when she reviewed his file, but she knew there was no other option; she had to at least try.
Kenta was a very jovial, large person with a personality to match. Built much like a strongman with tusks not unlike a walrus, he was hard to miss. Before he became her patient, she’d see him making small talk with the other patients, encouraging them though he himself was on the way to chemotherapy, his weight dwindling by the day. The previous doctors told him that he had osteosarcoma, a rare form of bone cancer. It was seemingly exacerbated by his quirk that gave him dense bones; they were perfect for diving, but apparently came at this very high price. The treatment had shown mild success, but her predecessors had decided his condition was becoming too advanced and an amputation was in order. After that visit, he attempted to keep his jovial nature, but his physical appearance continued to deteriorate, the medication and tests taking their toll. Full-hardy laughs were interrupted by coughing fits, round cheeks flexed into a habitual smile were replaced with gaunt hollows. Nanami couldn’t help but feel was cruel to be given such great power and still be unable to solve this problem.
She agonized, sincerely perplexed as to why someone as healthy and active as Kenta could have developed such an aggressive and rare form of cancer so quickly. It didn’t helped that after the first doctor’s diagnosis, the subsequent three doctors took little to no efforts to confirm said diagnosis, so she remained thoroughly unconvinced. She was a prodigy in her own right, but that alone couldn’t negate seniority. To go against the other doctors, she would need substantial proof of her theory—and also a theory to begin with.
Nanami was stirred from her thoughts by the sound of the silo being activated, as Overhaul stepped out. It had been hours since she had last gotten up as day turned into late night, too engrossed in her task. She glanced up for a moment, giving an absent-minded “hey” before returning to her work. It was unlike her to brush him off so quickly, and he assumed there were still hard feelings from earlier. Approaching her, he was about to speak before he caught a glimpse of her screen and notes, the file folder and its contents now haphazardly splayed on the coffee table, a few with drops of moisture on them.
“Didn’t I tell you no drinking in the living roo—” he stopped short, hearing a small sniffle escape her, before she attempted to cover it up by clearing her throat.
“Sorry, yeah, no drinking in the living room.” She laughed emptily, gathering the papers that were stained.
Seeing people cry was usually… uninspiring to him, to say the least; he couldn’t understand it, the need for such dramatic displays as an adult. But he found himself making exceptions more and more; she wasn’t one to throw herself on the floor in a tantrum—at least not seriously. Her tears were stifled, indignant, and his curiosity—yes, we’ll call it “curiosity”— got the better of him.
“What are you doing? Crying?”
“No!… Maybe.” She stubbornly corrected, further averting her gaze, hoping to use her hair as a curtain to obscure her face. Pausing for a beat, his attention turned to what he presumed was the source. He read over it as she attempted to fix her face. His brow furrowed, and Nanami turned back to see what he was doing. “Why do you care?”
“Osteosarcoma seems like an odd diagnosis for someone with his age and history.” He noted, choosing not to answer her question.
“That’s what I said!” she instinctually replied before remembering herself, “I mean quit snooping, this is patient-doctor information. It’s illegal to share.”
“Yet you brought it outside your office, to a yakuza base.” He deadpanned, pointing out the hypocrisy, taking a seat next to her on the couch. She pursed her lips, continuing to mull over theories, assuming he’d get bored and leave her be. “If not osteosarcoma, what do you think it could be?”
Knowing discretion was one of his strong suits, she decided to humor him. “I’m not sure. The tumor grew extremely fast and they began chemo almost immediately, so I didn’t get the benefit of a fresh diagnosis. He’d been perfectly healthy otherwise and his line of work kept him pretty active.”
“What’s his occupation?”
“He’s a commercial diver, it’s pretty fitting since his quirk gives him a lot of walrus-like qualities.”
“Sounds hazardous.”
“You’re one to talk. He’s practically made for it so drowning or being crushed under the pressure is near-impossible for him.”
“I was referring to all of the equipment. The fact that he’s kept all of his limbs up to this point is impressive.”
Slowly turning to him, a tired look on her face, she replied “… Your compliments are so very strange.”
Shrugging he continued, “It’s not that odd. The number of divers and sailors I’ve seen at port with mutilated legs is not small.”
Nanami was mid eye-roll when an epiphany struck her. Her eyes went wide, and she began frantically rummaging through the paperwork. “Shit– wait, online!” grabbing her laptop, she began typing in a frenzy as Overhaul watched calmly. Finding Kenta’s online records in the hospital database, she read a file from a month before his diagnosis stating he had been in a diving accident that severely fractured his leg where his tumor now was. She let out a shaky breath of excitement, “MO. It’s fucking Myositis Ossificans! This explains why the ‘tumor’ grew so quickly. It’s because it wasn’t even really a tumor, just his body’s response to a traumatic injury– This is amazing!"
He felt the corner of his mouth tug upward, as she practically wiggled in genuine excitement. “That diagnosis sounds much more appropriate.”
Facing him on the couch, she reflexively grabbed him by his shoulders, lost in excitement, before realizing what she was doing. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to just grab you like that,” she hurriedly removed her hands before he waved it off. “It’s just… I’ve been poring over this since I got this case but hadn’t thought to make that connection since he never mentioned the injury.” Thinking back for a moment, it dawned on her, “… how did you know to ask?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.”
Smiling, he rose, walking to the kitchen, “Would you like a cup?”
Very aware he was evading her question, she rolled her eyes smiling in kind “Sure. Of what?” She wrote down her final notes before putting away the files, tucking them and her laptop away as she waited for an answer.
Bringing over two cups of sake and the bottle, he sat next her with his own before sliding over her cup. She gave him a look and he sighed, “Consider it your reward for your work today. But don’t get used to it, my living room consumption rule still stands.”
She raised her hands in surrender, chuckling before taking a sip. “Oh! Let’s play a game.”
His brows furrowed as he continued to face forward still enjoying his drink,” Do I seem like a man who plays games?”
“Well, judging by the shogi board, I’d say yes.”
“… Just set the board.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a bit before starting the odd conversation, chatting and playing until they were on their fourth cup. Nanami was admittedly tipsy by this point and decided to ask something that had been on her mind for a while now with the aid of her liquid courage. If ever there was an opportunity, it was now, “Hey, why didn’t you ever become a doctor?” The question caught him off guard as he stopped drinking and peered off into the distance thoughtfully. His lips parting for a moment to speak before closing again to consider his answer.
“It would be difficult to treat people you can’t touch.”
“Hm… sounds like a copout. I wear gloves on the job at least 80% of the time and a lot of the non-surgical work that requires touching could easily be done by a nurse. So, what’s the real reason?”
“Well, you’re awfully bold tonight.”
“Eh, it’s your fault anyway,” she reminded him, toying with the sake glass. “So, are you gonna tell me or not?”
He considered her for a second before answering, “Win this game and I’ll tell you.”
“Easy.” She shot back before considering another outcome, “and what if I lose?”
He smiled easily, her stomach flipping as a glint of mischief was evident in his eyes, “Just try your best to win.”
Nanami was determined, or at least she convinced herself she was, not wanting to confront her curiosity at what he would do if she lost … or what he would do to me… Ok, let me put down this sake before I get a life sentence to horny jail. Recomposing herself a bit, she observed the board, stifling a smirk when she saw her path to victory. It was a moderately long game, but the outcome was in her favor as she took his king. Raising the piece betwixt her fingers, she smirked, “Now spill the beans.”
He stared into the proverbial abyss, slightly peeved at the loss, priding himself as a more-than proficient player before tonight. “Give me a moment.” He said casually raising a finger as he cleared his throat. Taking a measured sip from his cup before locking eyes with her, “I have a duty.” Nanami shot him an unsatisfactory look before he clarified, continuing, “Pops took me in when I had nothing to offer. This,” he began as he leered at his hands, recalling the destruction they regularly wrought, “is what I was meant to become in order to repay him. Bringing the yakuza back to their former glory and carrying on his legacy are my primary objectives. My time is limited since he’s not as young as he used to be. The years of schooling it would take to reap the benefits he deserves would prove much too long. Indulging in a dream like that is not in my nature, even if I did have the time. That is why.”
Her smile dulled as she processed his response. She wasn’t self-righteous enough to impose her own ideals on him, but it seemed like such a waste. His leading questions tonight were just one of many examples of his expertise. Even without the formal schooling he had a level of mastery that could easily earn him a degree, and coupled with his research skills, he could do a world of good. But instead here he was, content with just the opportunity to pay his debts. For someone so arrogant, he thought surprisingly little of his own nature. Maybe someday someone could convince him he didn’t have to carry around this weight all the time. Still very tipsy, she responded,” Well, if it’s a dream of yours to begin with, your nature can’t be all that bad now can it?” At this he knitted his brows, trying to accept the possibility. Seeing his hesitation, she continued, “You can do both, you know. Give yourself some more credit, bird brain.” She slurred the last insult, finishing her sake off with a gulp, not wanting to sound too soft. Feeling the consequences of her actions, she swayed sleepily in her seat before closing her eyes.
The next thing she knew, she felt herself being nudged awake, “Come on, get up. You need to get into bed.”
“But it’s sooo comfy here. Why are you being such a buzzkill, Kai?” she whined as he grasped her forearms, encouraging her to rise from her seat.
Stopping in his tracks, he asked a bit taken aback, “Where did you hear that name?”
“Your Poppy Pops told me” She almost sang, a grin plastered on her face.
“…Do not ever use the phrase ‘Poppy Pops’ again. Also, if couches were meant for sleeping, beds wouldn’t exist.” He responded irritated, though he handled her like porcelain, still remembering how unpleasant the last three days had been. Guiding Nanami to her room, he finally got her to lay down after tuning out a slew of other ridiculous nickname proposals, the drowsiness setting in as soon as her head hit the pillow. Knowing it would be too much work convincing a now drunk Nanami to get under the covers, he begrudgingly put a spare blanket over her. Before leaving, he looked back at her sleepy form. As much as they could grate each other’s nerves, no one had ever thought to encourage him or challenge his own thinking besides his father. He had never been a warm or sentimental person, having to try thrice as hard to grasp emotions that came so naturally to others, but she had planted a seed of doubt. Having always been so confident in his own lacking, he found a part of himself excited to be proven wrong for the first time. Before closing the door softly, he spoke “Thank you, Nanami.”
Her back ached as she hunched over her keyboard, only moving to grab the odd paper and examine it. Straightening up for the first time in hours she glanced at the clock on the wall that read 10:45pm, realizing she’d neglected two out of three meals today. Once Overhaul had left, she decided to catch up on paperwork and hadn’t gotten up since, except to go to the bathroom and grab a glass of water. On her visit to the fridge, she was unsurprised to find nothing but water and condiments. Of all the ways to be a normal bachelor, he chooses this one… she bemoaned, trying to formulate a dinner strategy while on house arrest. After a beat, she made a couple calls,confident she’d found a loophole.
An hour or so later, the smell of lemon and herbs filled the kitchen as she checked between dishes. After going through her mental list of recipes, she decided chicken picatta with a side of rice would be easiest while also sating her growing hunger. Smelling the sauce, she grabbed a spoon to gauge if the seasoning was up to snuff. Closing her eyes, she considered the flavor.
“What are you doing?”
“Aggh!” She clutched her chest, almost choking on the sauce. Catching her breath, she shot him a ghastly look before continuing, “I know this is your house and all, but could you please not use the ~hitman stealth~ walk while I’m here?”
“No. You should just be more alert. Now answer my question: what are you doing?”
“Ah, well I know by your sad fridge you may not be familiar with the concept, but this is called ‘cooking’.” She piped in her best kindergarten teacher voice.
“Do not start with me tonight.” He looked genuinely angry as he took a step forward, “Where did you get the ingredients? I specifically asked you not to leave and yo—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Chill out, Joe Goldberg, I stayed in the box. ”
“What?”
“Ugh, if you watched TV like a normal person that would have been a great joke—anyway, what I’m saying is I didn’t leave.”
“Elaborate.”
“Well it’s this show about a guy who traps a gi—”
“Dammit I mean about how you got the ingredients without leaving.”
“Oh yes, well I texted Kurono to call one of the guys who then called another dude who ordered it on Mostpates who then went back through the chain of communication until it was delivered to the door by one of your subordinates—with whom I had zero contact with—and now here I am. Still very much isolated from the outside world. Happy?”
He paused, his eyes narrowed in suspicion as he towered over her. She deadpanned back until he relented, rolling his eyes and sighing; irritated with her consistent sass, but relieved Nanami was safe. Relieved a valuable ally was uncompromised, he sternly corrected as though to convince himself. Try as he may, the frequency of his little “unprofessional slips” when it came to her kept increasing. He reasoned that introducing her to Pop—the Boss, was simply strategic and necessary as she became more involved in their organization. These faux pas where he’d praise her behind her back to the Boss during their weekly dinners or lapse into these fantasies, he wouldn’t dare speak aloud were merely obstacles he’d need to overcome. At some point. She’s just an ally. He lied to himself yet again, before addressing her, “Don’t do that without informing me first next time.”
“Yes s— I mean, you bet.” She said nervously clearing her throat before turning back to the stove. She would’ve continued indulging in her favorite pastime of getting on his nerves, but decided not to after getting a good look at him in the light. He looked tired and her sympathy won out over her need to continue poking the bear. Deciding it would be more sensible to make nice with her new roommate, she took a chance. “You know, I made a lot more than I was expecting if you wan—”
“I don’t need anything from you,” he reflexively shot back.
“Fine. Suit yourself.” she shrugged turning back to the stove. One step forward, fifteen steps back. What do I even expect?
*grooowwwlll*
Her head slowly swiveled to him; her brows raised. She took the sauce off the heat, drizzling the aromatic cream over the steaming rice and herb-crusted chicken. She confidently maintained eye contact for dramatic effect, though she was quite surprised she didn’t spill anything. A staring contest ensued, though they both knew the winner was the one who already possessed the literal chicken dinner. “Care to rethink your answer?”
“… If I get food poisoning it’ll be your end.” He acquiesced.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s just hurry before it gets cold.”
They sat down at the table across from each other, setting their places. Forgetting to get utensils, Nanami got back up and headed to the kitchen to retrieve them. “You can start without me, I forgot something,” she said with her back turned as she found the drawer she was looking for. Looking at the pans, she decided it would be much less of a pain to put them in the sink now instead of after her self-induced food coma. As she reached for the pan, she heard a faint rustling and a hushed “Thanks for the food” coming from the table. She went wide-eyed for a split second at the realization, Well, guess you can’t eat through a mask… gulping at the thought of finally seeing his face, she shooed the feelings away as mere curiosity, to no avail. Suddenly it felt too nerve-wracking to turn around as she continued to overthink, her utensils having been found long ago.
“If you leave your plate out any longer, I’m going to throw it away.”
“What? That makes zero sen—” she turned to reflexively bicker but stopped short. After seeing someone masked for so long it felt strangely intimate to see his face. He was still facing forward, calmly devouring the meal as she studied his profile, his features catching the warm light above the dining table. Nanami hadn’t known what she’d expected to see, but it wasn’t this. It might have been less surprising if he had some maniacal countenance or monstrous face, but he just looked… Normal… Normal…and really fucking cute. Shit. Her conflicted look of disgust with herself and fascination with him was promptly misinterpreted as he turned to see why she’d stopped grimaced back at her as she continued her appraisal, finding his full expressions, instead of just eyes, to still be a jarring sight.
“Do you have something to say?”
“N-No, just getting some eating sticks! I mean utensils. Eating. Utensils.” She cleared her throat, exuding awkwardness.
“…Right.”
Exhaling, she hurriedly made her way back to the table, trying to carry on normally. She began eating, her hunger taking her mind off the previous blunder. Looking up to grab the pitcher of water to refill her glass, she inadvertently caught his gaze. Certain this would be a rare occurrence, she decided if she wanted to gawk, it would have to be now. Today she’d gotten a face and a name, and suddenly he seemed a lot more… human.
“You have a staring problem, and I’m going to fix it in a very unpleasant way if you don’t stop.”
Nevermind. “Says the guy that’s blinked all of 3 times in the past 4 months.” She scoffed,“ I don’t have a 'staring problem,’ I was just… surprised to see your face is all.”
He paused before continuing eating, but she could tell he was still thinking, “… what’s surprising about it?”
Now able to fully evaluate his expressions, Nanami could tell he was a mixture of indignant, but curious. I can work with that. “Hm? Oh nothing, nothing at all… Except…” she leaned forward across the table, her eyes heavy-lidded as they travelled from his eyes to his mouth, committing the pleasant features to memory.
He was focused now. “Except?” the word came out softer than intended, as she was close enough for him to catch the scent of lavender, the t-shirt she wore forming an almost dangerously revealing dip as she leaned forward. His jaw clenched as he fought to maintain eye contact, trying not to blatantly appreciate her suggestive positioning. The walls of the room felt as though they were shifting closer together as he waited with bated breath for her answer, or action.
“Except…You have rice on it,” she tapped on her own face to show him where, grinning at his look of exasperation as she plopped back down to finish her last bite of food, missing how he briefly deflated. “So, how was it?”
“I don’t feel any early signs of food poisoning,” he began “but we’ll see how the rest of the night goes.”
Now feeling the sleepiness beginning to take over, she was too tired to give a quality retort. Sighing, she got up, grabbing her dish as she made her way back to the kitchen to clean up, the day finally catching up to her. She placed her dish in the sink and began searching for the gloves to start washing. Before she could locate them, she heard footsteps behind her.
“Move.”
“Really? I share my food and then you insult it—surprise, surprise—and now I can’t even clean up in peace” She began, but stopped as she turned to see him, his hands already clad in the yellow latex. His face was expressionless as he moved in her place and began tidying up. Taking it as her cue to leave, she dragged herself to her room to get ready for bed before he called back to her.
“Thank you for the food. It wasn’t bad at all.” He said, his back still turned as he continued cleaning.
She stopped, a half-smile appearing on her face as she could see he was trying to make nice, though he was obviously still not used to it, “…You’re welcome. Hey, Overhaul?”
“Yes?”
“You should get some rest.”
“Don’t need it. Per our conversation earlier, I have unlimited stamina.”
“Sure, but you can’t overhaul your mind, now can you?”
“Ok, Dr. Phil.” He mocked and her eyes shot wide. Before she could respond he continued, “And no, I will not answer further questions about that reference or how I know it. Goodnight.”
Stifling a laugh, she turned to walk back to her room, “Goodnight.”
The next week went by without incident and they began to form a routine. At 5:30 they’d get up to get ready for their jog. Nanami could tell she was on schedule by the sound of footsteps and water running next door that mirrored her own. Once finished, they’d convene in the front room, put on their shoes and head outside to stretch. Very few words if any were spoken, but Nanami enjoyed the comfortable silence. At work it was always expected that she’d be overtly personable and chatty, but she knew he had no such expectations. She could zone out and just exist and that was alrigh—
“Ahem”, he cleared his throat as he waited expectantly for her to start their morning run. His hands bare for the first time in ages as one of his subordinates ordered the wrong brand, and he swore he’d break into hives if he used them. Both of them were sure they wouldn’t need to touch any public surfaces on their run so the rarity of the occasion was dismissed.
“Oops, coming.”
Without another word they began, Nanami putting her headphones in. After their third run, he was satisfied that he could handle an ambush as they gathered more intel about the Okamura, and she could indulge in her music while they ran. One of her favorite songs came on and she began stepping to the rhythm as her shoulders started to roll and her head bobbed to the beat, soon after she began mouthing the words.
“Every time I comb my hair
Thoughts of you get in my eyes
You’re a sinner, I don’t care
I just want your creamy thighs”
All the while she didn’t realize her erratic movements and lip-syncing had caught Overhaul’s attention as he watched from the corner of his eye. A few months ago, he wouldn’t have been able to stomach the thought of sharing his home and free time with someone else without breaking out in hives, but now it felt… comfortable. It was comforting to come home to someone, to work with them and not be annoyed to the point of homicide (for him it was more rare than most), it was comforting knowing that someone was her.
She looked so carefree, so happy in the midst of everything while he felt the weight of the world had made permanent indentions on his shoulders. She didn’t fit in this world; she didn’t belong here. Or to anyone. The thought crossing his mind bitterly as his inner monologue took a familiar, pessimistic turn. Just looking at her brought that sickening warmth to his chest he coveted but didn’t recognize as something he was capable of… that is until a couple of months ago. Now he found it showing up more and more, clouding his judgment. It was distracting. He had an objective and she was an important variable in achieving said objective—nothing more. How dare she make him… feel or even question if he was able to. It was disgusting.
Now able to recognize the feeling of being silently judged by him, Nanami looked up to meet his gaze. “Weren’t you just lecturing me the other day about having a 'staring problem’?”
“I’m not staring, I’m just wondering why you’re carrying on like this in public.”
“Pssh, enjoying music—the great music of the illustrious Prince, nonetheless—is totally grounds for 'carrying on in public.’ Being carefree every now and again isn’t a sin, you know.”
“There are enough frivolous people in the world. Why should I have to indulge them?”
“You call it frivolous; I call it taking happy moments when they come. You should just let people enjoy things and stop being such a stick in the mud. You never know, maybe you’ll do something ~*wild*~ like enjoy yourself for once.”
“Not all of us have the luxury of being empty-headed and self-indulgent.”
At this she stopped running, the words sounding more like a personal attack than broad commentary. “What, so I’m a careless idiot just because I don’t brood about my self-induced problems all the time?”
Their similarities began to surface as he took her comment in like fashion, both of them now offended at scenarios they’d created in their own heads. “'Self-induced’? You know nothing about my perceived 'problems’ or how they came about. Nothing.” His irritation quickly morphed into anger the more he thought about the implication that he’d chosen this life.
“And you don’t know anything about my problems either. Just because I choose to be happy every blue moon and my issues usually don’t involve me snuffing people out on the regular doesn’t mean they aren’t also really shitty.”
“Oh, so you accidently blow up one kid and now it’s a trauma you get to use as a crutch?”
Upon saying this, her posture straightened, and she looked at him evenly, a cold rage emanating from her. “So, you think that’s all there is to me? I’m just some spoiled brat who’s always had her way and now that I’m exposed to your big, scary reality, my little traumas don’t compare? My tender little world is being shattered by the brutality and violence of your 'real’ one? If anything is self-indulgent it’s your narcissistic assumption that you’re sob story is somehow worse than everyone else’s” she said, venom dripping from her words.
He hadn’t seen her like this before. They say when telling a person’s age, that wrinkles and proportions are the best tells. In truth, there’s a certain “look” that begins to form over time, one’s experiences flash behind their eyes, an amalgamation of memories; they've seen things, their innocence eroding with every visage adding years to even the most verdant skin. As Nanami spoke, he saw an age in her eyes that didn’t match her face. There was a certainty in her gaze that only came from seeing the grotesque with one’s own eyes and deciding to keep looking. Her words were telling, but her stare was what filled the pages of the novel being written between them. Ever obsessed with purity, he assumed he’d be repulsed by the revelation, but it only made her seem closer. Her presumed naivety that he thought separated them was being chipped away. He wanted to know more, to become closer.
He was entranced as she seemingly riled herself up, “I’ve been through more than you could ev—” She stopped short, shaking her head as she bit her lip, looking off into the distance at something only she could see.
“What do you mean?” He coaxed her to finish her thought, now hopeful.
“No. I think I’ve told you enough. You’ve made your judgment and I’ll have to live with the fact that I made a mistake, as will you.”
“What? This conversation isn’t ov—”
“You don’t get to decide that,” she snapped. “I’m heading back, and I suggest you take the long way around.”
A grave look came across his face at being commanded, “That’s not how this works, and you will not cut me off again, or I’ll-”
“Or you’ll what?” She was back in his face, a familiar defiance in her eyes. If she was poking the bear before, this was an entire stabbing.
“You don’t want this.” He warned.
“You have no idea what I want.”
As things boiled over, they were much too close, a static in the air building between them, fingers pointed as they continued to argue. They were ultimately too close, for no more than a millisecond, but that small error was all it took for the reaction that followed. In that brief moment, they made contact, a blast followed that sent them both flying in opposite directions. Nanami hit one of the walls that lined the streets with a sickening thud. She slumped, unconscious, a stream of red dying her silver hair.
♡TAGS♡ bird traits galore, frenemies to lovers, Hawks acts kinda like an a-hole, strong language, mention of injuries, reader is very sassy, mentions of medicine, female-presenting reader, fab reader
♡SUMMARY♡ during a long shift at a hospital, you’re dragged into the same room as a certain well-known pro. after a conversation that leaves you exhausted and wishing to never see the number 3 pro again, you discover you’ve become pro-hero Hawks’ number 1 nurse.
♡A/N♡Hello!! My name is Buni and this is my first fic in a min so if there are any mistakes, feel free to let me know! Kindly please, I’m easily hurt Anyway! This entire fic is 100% @/andypantsx3 fault! Blame her for the bird shenanigans! And maybe go to her blog and read all of her amazing fics
