Atsumu "do You Think We're Brothers In Every Universe?" Vs Osamu "God, I Hope Not"

URARAKA MY QUEEN!!

Having many ochako thoughts lately

Bothersome beast, comforting friend

that trend but with Jily

Hello ! How you doing ?

I noticed that your requests are open, so i'm gonna yap about my favorite Winged Hero: Keigo !

I always think about reader being in a relationship with Hawks, but she feels like she doesn't really belong with him. He is famous, popular and very loved by his fans, meanwhile she likes to live a calm life, only talking and getting involved if someone reaches for her first.

Reader intends to break up with him, but his bird brain got a different message about it: he thinks she just needs more attention and more courting gifts.

So now reader has a collection of shiny rocks, lots of scented blankets and shirts, and a nonstop whistling Keigo around her.

I just really love the idea of Hawks tagging himself as a No refund Partner 🤭

(Feel free to ignore this, if you don't like it. Sending you lots of love, your writting is amazing 🥰)

No Refunds!

FEATURING Keigo 'Hawks' Takami i x Reader

SUMMARY You fear that Keigo's fast-paced life is too much for you and try to take a step back, but it doesn't seem to work out that well for you. It's just too bad Keigo doesn't believe in refunds.

CONTENT WARNINGS quiet reader, hawks being a literal bird

AUTHORS NOTE hope you all enjoy more of our feather-winged hero because, based on these requests, y'all can't seem to get enough of him!

You’d imagined this moment for weeks—a careful plan to untangle yourself from the wings of a man who seemed to live a world apart from your own. Keigo’s life was a loud one, a kaleidoscope of flashing lights, bright interviews, fans hanging on his every word and movement. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he belonged somewhere out there, in the heart of the storm, while you were left holding onto calmness, craving quiet.

So you’d practiced your words, rehearsed in the mirror, hoping to explain it gently: Keigo, you’re amazing, but I don’t fit into this life. You deserve someone who can keep up, who thrives under a spotlight.

But as you sat across from him in the dimly lit corner of your apartment, watching him devour his meal with an unshakable confidence, all those carefully chosen phrases began to slip away. The man was impossible to ignore, so vividly alive in his unbridled energy, his mouth curling into a familiar, teasing grin every time he caught you looking. It was like trying to capture a gust of wind in your hand—the moment you thought you had him pinned, he shifted, always a step ahead, eyes twinkling with that irreverent humor that made your heart ache.

“Keigo, I just…” you began, feeling your courage falter under his steady gaze. He didn’t miss a beat, his fork pausing in midair as he gave you his full attention.

“Go on,” he said, his voice low but attentive, his eyes narrowing with a glint of curiosity that warned you he wasn’t going to let anything slide by unnoticed.

You took a breath, trying to anchor yourself. “I just… sometimes I feel like I don’t really belong in your world,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

The words hung in the air, and Keigo stared at you, unblinking, as if you’d just told him something in a language he didn’t quite understand. After a moment, he let out a soft chuckle, eyes shining with that familiar, playful disbelief. “You? Not belong with me?” He shook his head, leaning back in his seat with that cocky, amused grin that somehow melted the tension in the room. “I don’t buy that, not for a second.”

Your heart twisted painfully, but before you could explain, he shifted closer, closing the space between you with the effortless grace of a hawk zeroing in on its mark. He tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that made your cheeks warm, a hint of softness underlying his typically mischievous gaze.

“Listen,” he said, his voice a soft murmur, “if you’re worried about keeping up with me, don’t be. You ground me, you know? Not everything has to be about the spotlight.” He leaned in, and his thumb brushed your cheek, a gentle, fleeting touch that left you breathless. “You’re my calm in all the chaos, you know that?”

Your resolve wavered, and all you could manage was a quiet nod before he kissed your cheek, lingering just long enough to leave a warmth behind. As he left that night, your mind kept replaying that look in his eyes—a flicker of vulnerability that felt strangely out of place on him.

The next morning, you woke to find something glinting on your bedside table. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, and there it was—a smooth, shining rock, no larger than your thumb, with flecks of gold swirling through its charcoal-gray surface. You reached for it slowly, as if it might vanish at any moment, the unexpected gift settling warm and solid in your palm.

A small folded note rested beside it, scrawled with Keigo’s messy handwriting: Something pretty, just like you! – K

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up, though it came with a pang of sadness. So this was his response? He wasn’t angry or upset; instead, he left a little piece of beauty for you, something that made you feel strangely… cherished. As if he was whispering, See? You’re part of my world. I want you here.

If only he left it at that..

The next morning, as you opened your front door, you found a Hawks-branded bag stuffed with the coziest-looking items imaginable. Luxurious blankets, soft enough to melt in your fingers, with colors that reminded you of his wings—deep crimsons and warm golden yellows. There was a plush feather-shaped pillow tucked inside, soft and inviting, as if he’d tried to bottle the feeling of his own feathers just for you.

Another note, taped to the top of the bag: For when you want a cozy night in, courtesy of your favorite Winged Hero.

In a daze, you pulled the pillow out, feeling the way it seemed to form to your touch, soft and strangely comforting, like you were holding a part of him in your hands. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, though it was tinged with disbelief. Hawks, your Keigo, was attempting to make your space his nest—one soft corner at a time.

You weren’t sure what to think. The gifts kept coming, like waves lapping persistently at the shore, never once relenting. Soon, you had a growing collection of glimmering stones, each unique in color, shape, and size. Some had ribbons tied around them, others were polished to a glassy sheen. By the end of the week, you could open your own boutique: Hawks’ Feathered Finds.

It was almost funny, in a way, how Keigo’s gift ideas seemed to expand. If the shiny stones weren’t enough to convince you of his commitment, the silky blankets and cozy pillows that soon followed would certainly drive the point home.

But as much as the blankets were a nice touch, that wasn’t enough either. No, Keigo’s gifts evolved in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Not satisfied with just leaving inanimate reminders of himself, he began to bring his own shirts, freshly washed and scented with that clean, faintly spicy cologne that was unmistakably his. Each time he left one, it felt like he was marking his presence all over again. When you came home one day to find three different button-ups hanging over your chair, neatly folded with another note—“So you won’t miss me too much”—you realized how completely he’d misunderstood your meaning.

And it didn’t stop there.

You started hearing bird calls, from sharp whistles to melodic chirrups, each one distinct and practiced. They’d come at random times during your day, clear and unmistakable, carrying across rooftops or echoing down quiet streets. Keigo would appear out of nowhere with a casual “Hey,” as if he hadn’t just called you over like a sparrow to its nest. Once, you looked out the window and spotted him standing on the rooftop opposite yours, watching you with that familiar spark of mischief in his eyes as he gave a gentle coo that made your cheeks flush.

Then there was the food. Keigo made it a habit to bring takeout on the evenings he knew you were working late, showing up with your favorite dishes and a grin that always promised a good story to go along with them. He’d kick off his shoes like he’d lived there forever, settling in as if he belonged, yet somehow always a little hesitant. You could tell he was waiting, looking at you as if searching for any sign that his gifts were having an effect.

Finally, one evening after he’d tucked a particularly soft blanket around you with all the precision of a nesting bird, you couldn’t help but ask, “What exactly are you doing, Keigo?”

He looked up from where he’d just finished arranging the folds of the blanket on your couch, his feathers twitching at your question. “What do you mean?” he asked, his amber eyes wide with feigned innocence.

“Keigo…” you said, trying to hold back a laugh as you gestured around your apartment, now cluttered with glistening stones, colorful feathers, and shirts that still carried his scent. “You’re… making a nest in my apartment.”

His wings fluttered, a small chuckle escaping as he scratched the back of his head. “Guess you could call it that.” He crossed over to where you sat, his gaze growing softer. “But I’m just making sure you know you’re not going anywhere.”

You shook your head, equal parts amused and bewildered. “I… I don’t think that’s how it works.”

Undeterred, Keigo leaned in, his head tilting down just slightly so his eyes met yours, the mischief in them mingling with something warmer, something that pulled at your heart. “Maybe not,” he murmured, his tone more serious than you’d ever heard. “But I don’t give up that easily. You don’t just get to decide you’re going to leave, y’know?”

A small pang tightened in your chest. How could someone like him, someone whose life glittered with fame and thrill, expect to keep someone like you by his side? Yet, looking into his eyes, you saw something deeper, even a little vulnerable, as his thumb traced soft circles over your hand.

“Keigo… I’m not…” you began, trying to find the words. “I just… sometimes I feel like I’m not cut out for this, like I don’t belong in this world of yours.”

He watched you for a long moment, his gaze gentle but unwavering. “Sweetheart,” he said softly, his wings rustling, “you’re not holding me back. You’re the calm in my storm. And I’m not about to let that slip away.” His hand tightened around yours just slightly. “Besides, I never heard any rule about ‘no refunds’ not applying to relationships. So guess what? You’re stuck with me.”

You looked around, taking in the stones, the blankets, the shirts—this strange, feathered haven he’d created around you, like a nest meant just for the two of you. You hadn’t realized you’d been dating an actual bird until now, and it hit you with a surprising warmth, a feeling that maybe, just maybe, you did belong here after all.

TAGLIST:

@surielstea

more barkugou quirk accident doodles

Dick Tim Damian and Jason getting carried away during an all out sibling argument that breaks out during a public gala and they forget they have an audience to the point where Damian starts spitting his ‘i am the blood son of Bruce Wayne you have nothing on me you imbeciles’ and without thinking Jason responds with ‘yeah you’re the son of Brucie Wayne all right but you forget I’m the son of fucking BATMAN and i have been since before you were even fucking PUBLIC KNOWLEDGE’

Damian: I AM THE BLOOD CHILD OF BRUCE WAYNE YOU PATHETIC CREATURE

Jason, fully about to fist fight his little brother in front of these shrimp platters: AND I’M THE SON OF BATMAN, WHILE YOU WERE TAUGHT HOW TO SIP CHAMPAGNE AND FALL INTO FOUNTAINS I WAS TAUGHT HOW TO THROW HANDS NOW FUCKING SQUARE UP CHILD

Dick, eyeing the now silent ballroom: uh, guys-

Tim, vibrating with excitement at the prospect of watching Damian get a ceramic plate to the face: don’t you fucking dare stop them

lacking context, Gotham is now under the impression that Jason Todd was not, in fact, a random street kid taken under Bruce’s wing, and is rather the biological son of Batman, who for some reason got his good friend Bruce Wayne to become the kid’s guardian, presumably to protect him from the life of crime he is leading. it also fuels the ‘Bruce Wayne is dating Batman’ rumours an almost impossible amount.

Another unforeseen consequence is that since it is common knowledge that the batkid vigilantes are most likely Batman’s children too, civilian Jason Todd is now considered to be the adopted brother of Tim, Damian, and Dick, and the biological brother of Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and Robin.

Jason is asked who his favourite sibling is.

‘ok they all suck apart from Hood. he’s such a nice man. used to take me ice skating.’

the family hate him.

Imagine Nanami Kento waking up from anesthesia after surgery, his bleary and unfocused gaze landing on you (his wife) standing beside him and holding his hand in yours. You smile at him warmly, softly reassuring him that he's okay and that you're right here beside him as he stares at you silently.

Nanami looks down at your joined hands, his gaze seems to focus on the wedding band adorning his ring finger. He stares at it for a moment before looking back up at you.

"Who are you?" He slurs, his words sloshy and imprecise. So unlike him, and so very adorable. "Are you a nurse?"

You giggle at Nanami's question.

"No, I'm not a nurse."

Nanami seems puzzled at your response. His brows furrow as his fingers move against yours, thumb stroking across your knuckles in that gentle motion he always does to soothe you. Your smile widens. Looks like there are some things that even ketamine can't erase.

"Wow. You got the most gorgeous smile. Are you a model? You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my whole life. You got really pretty teeth too..."

Kento's fingers tighten around yours, his voice falling into a groggy whisper.

"But...I think I'm married. We shouldn't be holding hands like this."

You bite your lip, fighting against the bubbling laughter in your throat and failing.

"O-Oh?"

Nanami nods, his expression shifting from one of appreciative awe to adorable seriousness.

"I want to be a good husband."

Well that just about melted your whole damn heart. Even the hospital staff in the background can't repress their "awww"s and "that's a keeper"s.

"Don't worry, you are a wonderful husband, Kento. I know that for sure."

He's confused again, those unfocused honey brown's searching yours, trying to figure out the situation as best as he can given the circumstances.

"How do you know?"

You raise your left hand, bringing it into his line of sight and wiggle your ring finger, the golden band surrounding it captures Nanami's attention in an instant.

"Because I'm your wife."

Nanami's eyes instantly grow wide, his expression morphing into one of childlike wonder.

"You're my wife?"

You laugh.

"Yes."

He squeezes your hand with a surprising amount of strength given that he was knocked out cold not that long ago.

"We're really married?"

"Yes."

"Wow..." Kento breathes, drifting off for a moment before asking you another question. "Have we kissed yet?"

His innocent yet hilarious question sends you into another fit of laugher.

"Y-yes! Many times."

Nanami rewards you with a dopey smile, his gaze so utterly loving, enchanted by your unrestrained joy.

"My wife." He murmurs adoringly, his fingers reaching up to caress your cheek.

"I love hearing you laugh." His palm cups your face. "You really are so beautiful. I hit the jackpot, didn't I?"

Grinning from ear to ear, you press a tender kiss to Kento's fingertips before guiding his hand back down to the bed.

"Alright sweetest man alive, you need to stop talking before you make every person in this room fall in love with you. I'm going to grab a snack for us for later. I'll be right back, okay?"

Kento nods.

"Okay. Can I get another kiss when you come back?"

waw....

Based off this lovely tweet

"Local girl acquires new hyper fixation and her ao3 fic count reach an all time high."