My Hero Academia One-Shots | Self Insert

🌷hawks | sorry, didn't see you🌷

i've headcanoned that hawks is really into 60s, 70s, and 80s music—hence the idea that his favorite band is ABBA. so feel free to shuffle play the mamma mia soundtrack while reading this
wc: 925

•••

It was a young summer's day, and Hawks was currently spending it on patrol. Despite the fact that patrol duty was one of the most tedious tasks for heroes, this one fairly enjoyed it. Flying through cotton candy clouds while his headphones played his favorite band was one of the few things he genuinely looked forward to.

The wind swept away his flat hums to ABBA's "Lay All Your Love On Me". Although he was supposed to be observing the ground below, he'd often find himself flying for his own pleasure: flipping, diving, even attempting to write words with an imaginary jet stream.

Keigo's lips curled into an excited grin when his eyes laid upon the sight before him: a beautiful, mountainous cloud. He gained speed, flapping his wings until they were sore so he could reach the height of the golden fog.

Its mist kissed his skin like a sunny drizzle, and a sensation so exhilarating yet soothing drove through his entire body.

Again, Hawks loved patrol.

But an abrupt collision knocked his headphones onto his neck and left a painful bruise on his head. A horrified gasp escaped his lips when he discovered what he had intersected with.

A person?

They were descending at a fleeting rate. Keigo snapped a powerful current with his wings that shot him downwards, pinning them tightly to his sides in order to slice through the air.

Your eyes blinked open, and you were instantly blown out of your once peaceful slumber. Wind pounding your face, you couldn't control your fall as your body tumbled violently towards the ground.

You could control clouds, but they wouldn't be able to halt your fall at this pace.

You calmed your breathing, knowing there would be no tomorrow if you continued to panic. Clouds stacked atop of each other below your path of descent, each one barely managing to slow your velocity as you plunged through them.

The earth was getting closer: you could distinguish individual buildings at this height. There was not enough water vapor at this altitude to form a cloud, and unless a miracle were to happen, your final hopes of adopting a puppy were shattered.

You were planning on going to the dog shelter this weekend.

A violent slam of impact hit your back and legs, and—shockingly—you weren't a bloody splat on the city streets. You involuntarily squirmed in the position you were being held, and peered up at the miracle of a human being.

"Wow," was all you could muster.

"Wow" that someone was here at the right time; "wow" that he had even managed to catch you; and "wow" that he was unfathomably attractive.

"Are you okay! Shit, I'm so sorry. That was totally my fault. I should've been more aware," he sputtered in quick, frantic bursts.

You could feel his heart pounding through his chest. "Yeah, yeah... I'm okay, thanks."

It was impossible to meet the immense worry in his wide eyes.

A timely silence cued you to beckon a cloud below your feet. The winged man observed, his brows lifting with an ingenuous curiosity.

"I can take it from here." Your voice was so feeble, so reluctant, yet determined to escape such a burning gaze.

"Ah"—his eyes jumped to the cloud, then back to you—"right."

The manner in which he let you go was so tender, so humane; you were a newborn being placed in their crib for the first time again. As his gloved hands slipped from your body, you peered up at him gratefully.

"May I?" he inquired from above.

You nodded, lightly patting the space beside you.

Hawks finally lowered himself, his movements stiff and rigged, but eventually he found comfort in your presence. He had not even realized the music from his headphones was still playing.

The faintest buzzing could be heard from them, and they caught your attention enough to ask: "What're you listening to?"

"A lotta old stuff—seventies, eighties."

"Can I hear?"

Hawks hummed, lifting the headphones off his neck and lowering them over your ears. Again, you couldn't help but soften from his gentle behavior. This side of the number two hero was never televised.

The pre-chorus of "Slipping Through My Fingers" sung through the speakers, and you couldn't help but sway your head side to side with the soothing melody.

Hawks failed to hide the growing smile on his admiring face. "What song is playing?"

Silently, you twisted the left earmuff outwards for him to listen. His chest bumped your shoulder, and his tousled hair tickled your neck as he leaned into the headphones.

"It's nice," you say.

The dirty blonde exhaled shortly, averting his attention toward the bleeding sun. "It is."

Puddles of red and pink pooled below the sun as it neared the horizon. Glass buildings held the star above them, reflecting the warm tints of the sky.

Hawks was pleasantly surprised with how relaxed you were swaying to his music—no more than ten minutes ago were you plummeting to your death. Now here you were, humming so faintly, so sheepishly for only him to hear.

Keigo had fallen.