Bnha Smau - Blog Posts

insecure

bakugou, izuku, shoto x fem!reader ⋆｡°✩ — reader and her bf went to the beach yesterday and took some photos, she feels insecure about her body, comfort/fluff, smau

you text them that you're in heat pt.2

alpha! aizawa, keigo, shinso, tenya x omega!fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — swearing, suggestive

pt.1

HII!!!

i loveloveLOVE ur smau’s, could u do one for katsuki bakugo? enemies to lovers ?? the storyline and stuff can be anything u want.

pls feel free to add any details u want 😭😭

and no pressure !!!

technical foul | k. bakugo

you're vice captain to his captain on the soccer team. working together was never the problem. staying out of each other's way was.

aizawa with a pro hero that always get paired up together (did i mention they hate eachother to the point they cant stand eachother)

standard procedure | s. aizawa

you and aizawa constantly get partnered for fieldwork. the job is clean. the dynamic, not so much.

Please bakugo friends to lover! User and him started texting bc of a group project then it goes from there when he texts them constantly if they are missing class or didn’t show up to school at all

standard deviation | k. bakugo

the plan was to finish the slides and turn in your project. not get used to talking every night.

hi cool person!!! i was wondering if you could do texting iida? like any context, but just make it iida as our bf or friends to lovers or something. thankss

manual override | t. iida

dating tenya iida is like loving a perfectly alphabetized fire drill—structured, intense, and somehow exactly what you needed.

MORE TOMU SMAUS PLEASEEEE 😼

temporary housing | t. shigaraki

you let him crash for a week. it's been three months and you're starting to miss him when he's not on the couch.

OBVIOUSLY NOT FORCING BUT MORE SERO HANTA SMAUS PLEASE YOU SMAUS ARE SO GOOD I NEED MORE AND SERO IS HUZZ😔🤍

low dose | h. sero

in which you didn't expect to like your dealer, but he keeps replying to your overly enthusiastic texts like it's normal.

DEKU ACADEMIC RIVALS TO LOVERS WITH READER🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏PLSOLSOKS

ctrl + alt + detest | i. midoriya

you're tied at the top of the class, stuck in a group project, and ignoring the fact that midoriya looks really good in library lighting.

Hiii so I was wondering if MAYBE you could do a smau with Denki abt reader being jealous of Jiro (Denki x reader/friend to lovers ?) (Pls pls pls)

off the clock | d. kaminari

you and denki are coworkers, best friends, and almost something more—until he starts spending all his time with jirou. now you're just trying your best to not care.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ON MY KNEES FOR AN IZUKU SMAU WITH HIM AND MC CRUSHING ON EACH OTHER SOOO BAD BUT THEY'RE TWO IDIOTS WHO GO: "oh they wanna hang out one on one? Damn we're such good friends"

just us? | i. midoriya

just two best friends hanging out one-on-one every weekend, doing couple things, and totally not dating (yet)

ur so funny pls😭😭😭 plsplsplspls more shiggy and tamaki BLESS UP

chaotic neutral | t. shigaraki

you work the graveyard shift at a 24/7 convenience store. unfortunately, so does he.

alley rose | k. takami

you know he's not yours, but you'd still pick him in every lifetime. the worst part? he'd let you. (2785 words)

you never meant to fall into it.

and maybe that's the problem.

because things that fall tend to break, and you? you've never been particularly good at knowing when to catch yourself.

it starts with nothing. not even a spark, not a clear moment. no dramatic beginning. no pivotal shift in atmosphere. he just... shows up one night. stands in the doorway of your apartment with wind in his hair and fatigue under his eyes and a grin that looks like it's trying to apologize for both.

you don't remember who invited him. maybe he just appeared. you wouldn't put it past him.

you only remember letting him in.

he takes up space easily. like he's always belonged there. like the couch remembers his weight. like your walls never had a choice in loving the sound of his voice.

he doesn't say much. he never really has to.

he leans against the kitchen counter while you make tea, not even asking what kind, just accepting the mug with his usual crooked smile and a quiet, "you're a saint."

he doesn't drink it.

he just holds it between his hands, steam rising between his fingers like an offering he doesn't quite believe he deserves.

you sit in silence for a while. the kind of silence that feels earned. he doesn't fill it with nonsense. he lets it exist between you, thick and soft and settled like dust on a bookshelf no one has the heart to clean.

"you don't sleep much, huh?" he says eventually, with the kind of voice that makes the night lean in to listen.

you shrug. "not when the world's this loud."

he nods like he understands. like he feels it too. maybe he does.

he spends the night—not in your bed, never in your bed—but on the couch. boots off, one arm lazily thrown over his eyes like the darkness is too much. there's tension in his shoulders even when he sleeps.

you watch him from the doorway longer than you should. tell yourself it's because he's in your home. that you're being cautious.

it's not that.

it's never that.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

he returns three nights later.

you don't ask why.

he starts showing up regularly. not every night, but often enough that you start leaving the door unlocked out of habit. he never uses a key. he always knocks, even when it's past midnight, even when you're both pretending he hasn't been there three times this week.

he doesn't talk about work. never talks about heroes or headlines or what happens after he walks out of your door and lets the world chew him up again.

you don't ask.

you offer him a space. warmth. the silence he pretends not to need.

he offers... something else. something half-shaped. a hand on your back when you pass each other in the kitchen. a smirk when you call him out on it. snacks left on the counter. a blanket draped over your shoulders when you fall asleep on the couch, though he'll swear it wasn't him.

and one night, when you're both sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor with half a bottle of something nameless between you, he leans in and kisses you.

it's not hungry. not sharp. not even all that deep.

it's lazy. gentle. like he forgot himself and remembered you in the same breath.

when he pulls back, he just grins. "nice lips," he murmurs. "don't let anyone tell you different."

and then he's gone.

you press your fingers to your mouth and pretend it didn't mean anything. pretend it was just a drunk impulse. a thing he does. a fluke.

you tell yourself it won't happen again.

it does.

not the kiss—but the weight of it. the imprint.

the moments start to blur together. late night dinners. half-slept mornings. you learn the exact sound his jacket makes when it hits your couch. the rhythm of his breath when he falls asleep sitting up. the way his voice drops when he's tired, softening like he's forgotten he's not supposed to be real around you.

you learn how to love him without touching him.

he makes it easy.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

you don't talk about what this is.

not once.

not when he brings you takeout and eats with you in silence. not when he falls asleep with his head on your shoulder. not when he disappears for four days and comes back without a word and looks at you like he never left.

you tell yourself it doesn't matter.

because he's not cruel.

he never leads you on—not really. never calls you his. never asks you to stay. never says he loves you.

he just makes it feel like he does.

and maybe that's worse.

maybe if he'd been colder, you would've walked away by now. maybe if he'd kissed you like he didn't mean it, you wouldn't still taste him in your coffee. maybe if he didn't smile like you were the only person in the room—maybe then you'd be able to sleep at night without checking your phone for his name.

but he does. and you can't.

you try to pretend it's fine.

you're adults. capable of detachment. you know how this goes. some people just need somewhere to land. someone who doesn't ask questions. someone who lets them rest.

you can be that.

and for a while, you convince yourself you're okay with it.

because sometimes he looks at you and you think—maybe.

maybe this could be something.

maybe he just needs time.

maybe you're the only one who sees him like this—tired and soft and human.

maybe that matters.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

one night, he cooks for you.

it's a disaster. the pasta overboils, the sauce burns, and he sets off your smoke alarm because he forgets how sensitive it is.

you sit on the floor with him, coughing and laughing, fanning smoke with a magazine while he yells at your ceiling.

when it finally clears, he sits beside you. knees touching. arms brushing. smelling like burnt garlic and relief.

he doesn't kiss you that night.

but he falls asleep in your lap, and you thread your fingers through his hair and pretend he's yours.

he's not.

but he lets you pretend.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

"you're good at this," he says once, curled up in your blanket, the ends of his hair brushing your collarbone.

"what?"

"letting me stay."

you don't answer.

he doesn't expect you to.

˚⊹ ᰔ

you kiss again, weeks later.

it's different.

it's not light or easy or careless. it's slow. warm. aching.

he holds your face like it's glass. kisses you like he's afraid to stop. touches you like he's saying something he doesn't have the words for.

and afterward, he rests his forehead against yours and murmurs, "you always feel like home."

and you wonder if maybe this is something.

maybe this is real.

but then he gets up. leaves without looking back. and you stay awake all night, staring at the ceiling, wondering what you did wrong.

˚⊹ ᰔ

your friends start to notice.

"you've been distracted," one of them says.

"i'm fine," you lie.

they don't press. but they look at you like they know.

you delete the messages you want to send him. never hit call. never ask where he is when he disappears for days, weeks, reappears with new bruises and an easy smile and nothing in his eyes.

you pretend not to care.

but your hands shake when you wash his mug.

˚⊹ ᰔ

he shows up again.

you open the door. he looks tired.

you don't ask why.

he leans against the frame like he belongs there. like he knows you'll let him in.

and you do.

he doesn't kiss you this time. doesn't speak.

he just lays beside you on the couch. not touching. not sleeping. just breathing.

you turn your head.

he doesn't look at you.

you wonder if he's already left.

˚⊹ ᰔ

you don't remember the last time he said your name.

you don't remember the last time you said no.

˚⊹ ᰔ

there's no end. not yet.

there's just the quiet stretch of something wearing thin. the slow suffocation of wanting too much from someone who never offered you anything in the first place.

you tell yourself it's fine.

you knew what this was.

he never said it would be more.

but you wish—god, you wish—he hadn't made it feel so much like love.

because now, you don't know how to unfeel it.

you don't know how to stop opening the door when he knocks. how to stop hearing your name in the silence between his sentences. how to stop hoping.

and worst of all?

you don't want to.

not yet.

maybe not ever.

˚⊹ ᰔ

you don't talk about it.

the situation. the dynamic. the... thing between you.

there's no language for it. not really.

it's not a relationship. not a friendship. not even a fling.

but it's something. it has weight. it has presence. it takes up room in your life and your chest and your plans and your future in the way real things are supposed to. only it doesn't behave like something real. it behaves like a ghost with too much nerve. a shadow that leaves fingerprints on your heart but disappears when the light comes on.

you try to explain it to a friend once. someone who notices the way you pause when your phone buzzes. the way your smile flickers when it doesn't.

"is it serious?" they ask.

you open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

because how do you explain it? how do you articulate the emotional toll of being almost loved?

so you shrug. "it's nothing."

you lie.

but you shouldn't have to.

˚⊹ ᰔ

hawks—no, keigo, because he insists you call him that when you're alone, like that somehow makes him more honest—isn't cruel.

that's what you keep coming back to.

he never promises you anything. never strings you along with declarations or dates or matching mugs in the cupboard. he doesn't label this. doesn't even try.

but he lets you sit close. lets you hold his wrist when he's pacing and won't tell you what's wrong. lets you run your fingers through his hair when he comes back with blood under his nails.

he lets you treat him like someone you love.

and in return?

he lets you pretend he loves you back.

˚⊹ ᰔ

you try to find clarity in the small things.

like in the way he leans toward you in crowds. the way his eyes soften when he hands you a drink. the way he listens when you talk about things that don't matter.

but the truth is, affection doesn't equal intention.

and you're tired of translating his silence into possibility.

˚⊹ ᰔ

he disappears for two weeks.

no warning. no explanation. just gone.

the first few days you check your phone constantly. reread old messages. try to remember if you said something wrong. if you asked for too much. if he finally got bored of the emotional middle ground you let him live in.

the silence grows louder.

by the time the seventh day passes, it becomes a roar in your head.

you don't call. you don't text.

you tell yourself it's a boundary.

it's not. it's fear.

because if you reach out first, you won't like the answer.

˚⊹ ᰔ

he shows up on a tuesday.

doesn't knock. just opens your door like nothing's happened. like it hasn't been days since he last looked at you. like he didn't vanish into the wind and leave you to rot in your own expectations.

he drops his bag by the couch. throws himself down and stretches like a cat, muscles flexing under his shirt, wings shifting slightly.

"miss me?" he says with a grin.

your heart cracks. so quietly, so precisely, you barely feel it.

you sit beside him. don't say anything.

he throws an arm around your shoulder like this is normal. like you're normal.

"sorry," he says casually. "work stuff."

you nod.

he doesn't elaborate.

you don't ask.

and the silence between you stops being safe. it becomes suffocating.

˚⊹ ᰔ

you start pulling away in increments.

you don't make him tea anymore when he shows up. you don't wait for him to call. you stop folding his jacket when he leaves it draped over your chair. you stop making room in your drawer for the little things he forgets behind.

and he notices. of course he does.

he notices the tension in your jaw when he touches you. the fact that you turn your face away when he leans in like he might kiss you. the way you no longer meet his eyes when you say goodnight.

he doesn't say anything.

but one night, when you're both watching some movie neither of you are paying attention to, he speaks into the dark.

"you okay?"

you hesitate.

then: "i'm tired."

he hums. "long day?"

you don't answer, and he doesn't ask again.

˚⊹ ᰔ

your friends start asking questions. real ones.

"is this working for you?" "what do you want out of this?" "are you happy?"

you laugh them off.

but the ache in your chest lingers.

because no. you're not happy. not really.

you're in love with someone who only shows up when it's convenient. who never shares the parts of himself that matter. who touches you with familiar hands but guards his heart like it's state property.

and you? you've built a home out of his shadows. you've memorized a version of him that doesn't even belong to you.

you don't want to do this anymore.

˚⊹ ᰔ

but you still do.

because it's better than nothing.

because the alternative is letting him go.

and that feels like losing something you never got to keep in the first place.

˚⊹ ᰔ

then one night, it changes.

not loudly. not dramatically.

just... changes.

you're sitting on the floor again, legs stretched in front of you, a blanket around your shoulders and the tv on low. keigo's beside you, but not touching. for once, there's real distance.

you glance at him.

he's staring at the screen, eyes unfocused.

you don't recognize his expression.

you whisper, "why do you keep coming here?"

he blinks. looks at you. "what do you mean?"

you shrug. "i mean... you never talk. you disappear. you show up without warning. and i let you. every time. i don't ask for anything, and you know that."

he stays quiet.

"so why do you keep coming back?"

the silence stretches. you think maybe he won't answer.

then he says, soft: "because you're the only place i don't have to lie."

your stomach twists.

because that should mean something. it almost does.

but then you realize—

he's not saying he wants you. he's saying he likes what you give him.

peace. comfort. quiet.

you're not a person to him. you're a haven.

and he never had any intention of staying.

you breathe in, slowly, and nod.

"okay."

he looks at you, confused. "okay?"

you stand. your knees ache. your chest does too.

"you can go now."

he rises slowly, uncertainty flickering across his face for the first time. "what?"

you repeat it. "you can go."

he studies you. then smiles, like it's a joke. "don't be dramatic."

you stare at him. "i'm not."

something in his expression falters. "look," he says. "i didn't mean to—"

"i know," you say. "that's the problem."

he goes quiet again.

you continue, softer now. "you didn't mean to kiss me. or stay. or sleep here. or come back. or look at me like that. or make me feel like you wanted something real. and you think that's enough. that because you never said you cared, you didn't have to."

his mouth opens, then closes.

you're tired. so, so tired.

"you never had to lie to hurt me, keigo," you whisper. "you just had to let me believe you wanted me here."

he doesn't argue. he doesn't reach for you. he just stands there.

quiet.

just like always.

you don't ask him again to leave.

he just does. eventually.

without slamming the door. without saying goodbye.

and maybe that's what breaks you.

because there's nothing dramatic to hold on to. no final fight. no angry words. no declarations.

just absence.

and that hurts more than anything else.

˚⊹ ᰔ

you sit in the quiet after he's gone. your blanket falls off your shoulders and you don't pick it up. you sit there until the sun starts to rise.

and when your phone buzzes hours later, you don't check it.

because you already know—

it's not him.

it never really was.

hiii! dk if ur taking requests or not buttt i have to ask could u mayhaps do a kiri smau!! likeeee kiri x shy reader who's alternative, mayb like he thinks she's so cool and wants to get to know her more but she comes off as kinda odd or what not (weird girl) type thing and they eventually get tg (sorry if this is 2 many details or what not) BUTTT JUS KINDA DO IT HOWEVER U WANT !!!

mismatched | e. kirishima

kirishima finds himself drawn to your mildly peculiar personality and style, but it works for you.

a/n: for some reason i struggled with this one a little bit. i tried to get alternative right without being to stereotypically cliche with it. i hope it serves well oomf!

Hiii!! Hope ur having a good day/night!! I was wondering if u could mayhaps please do an smau with Izuku x grumpy!reader that doesn’t really like interacting with anyone but him?? i mean major golden retriever x black cat dynamic vibes !! thank u and make sure to take care of urself !! <33

just for you | i. midoriya

in which you hate everyone—except izuku midoriya. unfortunately for you, he's also dangerously good at getting under your skin

i beg pls do a shoto x reader smau just like cutesie things and theyre already dating i need it for my daily serotonin intake ^^ like where he just does the most boyfriend things without noticing...

w2e, the marias, beabadoobee, laufey typa romance i beg 🙏

everything he does | s. todoroki

in which loving you comes naturally to him—even if he rarely says it out loud

DRESS PRESENTATION! masterlist

a keigo takami x reader model au smau

when {reader}, a fashion designer at her friend's agency, becomes the fashion designer for a new campaign featuring none other than keigo takami, a top model, what will they do?

͙͘͡★ slate (trailer)

͙͘͡★ portfolio 1 (season 1)

͙͘͡★ design 1: THREE WEEKS?!?!!?1

͙͘͡★ design 2: tbd

͙͘͡★ design 3: tbd

͙͘͡★ design 4: tbd

͙͘͡★ design 5: tbd

͙͘͡★ design 6: tbd

͙͘͡★ design 7 (finale): tbd

very poorly made smau with no real skill in it. hope you enjoy nonetheless :)

tag list (req to be added/open): @chaoslibra @samm1e13 @seijuroww @personally4runa @2dmenfr @wkurzony-krasnal @attemptingtowritehalfwaydecently @ponyosupremacy @badslittlemuffin

DRESS PRESENTATION!

keigo takami x reader smau model au

an: very short. next one will (hopefully) be longer (it will also take longer. get ready for another two week wait chat)

͙͘͡★ prev (slate/trailer)

͙͘͡★ next

tag list (open): @chaoslibra @samm1e13 @seijuroww @personally4runa @2dmenfr

dividers from: @saradika-graphics

sorry this took so long for how short it is (it's literally just a slightly longer trailer holy) but i'm gonna try to do better next time! :)

DRESS PRESENTATION!

keigo takami (hawks) x reader smau, model au

an: more of a teaser than a trailer.. sorry. formatting sucks but we deal w it.

tag list (open): @chaoslibra @samm1e13 @seijuroww @personally4runa

dividers from: @saradika-graphics

nobody is going to see this but doing this anyway

(@chaoslibra because you gave me like two/three of these ideas)

OKAY SO IF YOU SEE THIS PLEASE PLEASE @ PEOPLE SO MORE PEOPLE YOU THINK WILL ENJOY IT WILL SEE IT. I DON'T KNOW ANYBODY SO I CAN'T TAG ANYBODY LOLLL

(I'm still thinking about the actual plot. I might do a poll on that too. Feel free to comment ideas)

The MHA Boys asking for homework answers! (Pt.2)

You got them a gift! (𝙿𝚝.𝟷)

Pt. 2

𝙸𝚉𝚄𝙺𝚄 𝙼𝙸𝙳𝙾𝚁𝙸𝚈𝙰

𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚘 𝚃𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚒

𝙺𝚊𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚒 𝙱𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚐𝚘

𝙴𝚒𝚓𝚒𝚛𝚘 𝙺𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚊

𝙳𝚎𝚗𝚔𝚒 𝙺𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚒

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚙𝚝 𝟸 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗.

Sweetest

Ochako Uraraka x F! Reader

Pt. 1 -> Pt. 2

Sleepover ;p

Ochako Uraraka, is the most thoughtful person in the world. It was no wonder why she had so many friends she would always make sure nobody felt left out or like they didn’t belong so it didn’t shock you when she invited you to the girl's sleepover in the dorms. At first, you wanted to say no but when you saw the face she tried to hide you couldn’t help yourself but agree.

That’s why you’re at the grocery store with her on snack duty, you knew she wouldn’t have been able to keep track of what everyone wanted so you offered to help her.

“Did Mina say regular starburst bag or just the pink ones?” Ochako asked, looking at the shelf full of so much candy that it was almost overwhelming. “Uhhhhmmm pink ones” you say as you open your phone to check the time. “Hmm, we should probably hurry up, we’ve barely got much done from how much we were joking around.” you giggle, remember the photos you just know she’s going to post later. “Yeahhhh you're right I don’t think we have that much time we still gotta set up my dorm for the sleepover." Ochako said while smiling at you, it made your heart flutter but you tried to dismiss it. Clearly, she doesn't like you like that; she just likes you as a friend, right? I mean, have you seen the way she acts around Deku, there's no way she likes girls.

Ochako's POV: "Hmmm, I feel like we're missing something." I tell Y/n, looking around at the set up we made for the sleepover. "Hmmm, we should probably change into pajamas." She smiles slightly in my direction, a smile that anyone could appreciate, the warmness she brings is so comforting, I knew she had to be at the sleepover. "Oh yeah! I have matching pajamas if you wanna match with me!" I look in her direction, returning her warm smile. "Yeah I'm down"

I get out the pajamas, mine being white with pink bows on it, hers also white but with light brown little bears on them. "Here, I think they'll suit you!"

Y/n's POV: "Thank you!" I say as I walk out of Ochako's dorm to the bathrooms so I could change into the pajamas. She always found a way to bring a smile to your face, no matter the situation she always makes the room brighter and happier. I slip on the pajamas and glance at my phone.

"Goodness gracious." I sigh, putting my phone away, walking towards Ochako's room, and see the door open. I guess the girls are already in there. I walk in seeing Mina, Momo, Toru, and Jiro on the bed in their pajamas, meanwhile, Tsyu is in Ochako's desk chair. But Ochako is the only one who isn't in the room. "Where Ochako?" I glance around the room at the girls. "She went to go get extra blankets, were making pallets!" Tsyu replies. "Oh, okay."

Ochako walks in with a few blankets and pillows. "You think this should be enough?" She joyfully asks throwing the pile of blankets and pillows on some of the girls on the bed playfully.

Hello!! This is my first post, so I shortened it to sorta “test the waters.” I was kinda upset I hadn’t seen much wlw mha content, so I decided to make some! I have some experience in this type of stuff (old Wattpad stuff ;p), but I hope you guys like it and give feedback, please!! (I’ll make the next part longer if this one does well.)

𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 // 𝙃𝙖𝙬𝙠𝙨 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙪

Part 4!! Hawks x Assistant — random messages somewhat coordinated ༉‧₊˚

© yammpi3 2024. All work belongs to @yammpi3. You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.

𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 // 𝙃𝙖𝙬𝙠𝙨 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙪

Part 3!! Hawks x Assistant — random messages somewhat coordinated ༉‧₊˚

© yammpi3 2024. All work belongs to @yammpi3. You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.

𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 // 𝙃𝙖𝙬𝙠𝙨 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙪

Part 2!! Hawks x Assistant — random messages somewhat coordinated ༉‧₊˚.

© yammpi3 2024. All work belongs to @yammpi3. You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.

𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 // 𝙃𝙖𝙬𝙠𝙨 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙪

Part 1!! Hawks x Assistant — random messages somewhat coordinated ༉‧₊˚.

© yammpi3 2024. All work belongs to @yammpi3. You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.

hiii bloom :c i looove ur work and was wondering if i could request a kirishima smau like boyfriend texts orrrr maybe a smau of kirishima x shy reader and like he's so infatuated w her but she lwk comes off as rude or what not bc her anxiety and yeahh BUT they do get tg and ugh im rambling do as u like !!! kisses 4 u xo 🩷🩷🩷

⋆˚࿔ gently yours

contains: gn!reader but feminine compliments, fluff, leads to established relationship

authors note: hii lotus my beautiful flower thank u for requesting!! everytime i write for kiri my heart does backflips hes such a cutie. he definitely would text you and then throw his phone across the room ugh i love him

omg hi bloom i love your work sm ! >< can i please request mha boys with their naturally flirty girlfriend!!?

⋆˚࿔ flirty and unfiltered

— includes: kirishima, kaminari, sero & shinsou (in that order)

contains: gn!reader, crack, established relationship if you want, hantas is suggestive but it’s all silly

authors note: thank you for the request! this was soo fun to make. or maybe i actually crack myself up, idk.

⋆˚࿔ e. kirishima

⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari

⋆˚࿔ h.sero

⋆˚࿔ h.shinsou