An Angel On My Shoulder and the Devil In My Heart (Yandere! Hawks x Reader)

1

He can't stop looking at you. Your wings glitter in the sun as you launch yourself in the air, narrowly dodging an attack from your opponent. Bits of gold are buried in those pure, white feathers, not a speck of dirt in them despite the grueling situation you're in now. The sports festival has descended upon UA's students, and Hawks is eagerly watching a new 1-A student pummel their opponent. You tuck your wings into yourself, falling fast towards the ground and your feet collide with the face of your attacker, slamming them into the ground and effectively handing you the win for that round. The crowd cheers for you, eager fans standing and shouting around him as Hawks eyes you from his seat, head rested in his palms. You wave to the crowd with a politician's smile, straightened posture and a foot still on the unconscious student that lies in the arena with you. You seem heavily aware of your image, your effect on the crowd as you blow a kiss before you exit, earning you another round of whoops and hollers. (L/N) (Y/N), class 1-A, Hawks remembers the announcer saying. Quirk: God's Gift; fitting for such a pretty little thing like you. He knows immediately that he wants you in his agency.

"Wow! that was amazing, (Y/N)-chan!" Mina smiles at you, clapping her hands together.
"I'm glad you think so," you let out a little chuckle and sit down, the cold metal of the folding chair cooling you off quite a bit from your exhausting fight, "I just hope the agencies agree." She laughs, lighthearted as always.
"Don't worry about it too much; I'm sure you'll get lots of offers. Didn't you hear how that crowd cheered for you?" Of course you heard it, but you still can't believe it. All that praise- just for you. It's an exhilarating feeling, having all those eyes on you, watching you, cheering you on as you put on a show for them, beating your opponent into the ground. You feel a little bad for how you toyed with them, playing a bit of leap frog as you flew around, dodging their attacks and hopping over them, but it would've been too short if you had gone all-out right away. But heroism is a popularity contest that you intended to win, and that started with the sports festival.
"Yeah, they seemed to really love you out there. You must've been pretty impressive," Jiro chimes in. You give her a grin.
"Thanks, you guys; you really helped calm my nerves a bit. I'm sure you'll do really good, too!"

The sports festival was definitely a success for you, you would say. Dozens of agencies requested you, sent you letters and gift baskets, all trying to win you over to study at their agency, but only one of them really stood out: Hawks.
He approached you on a Saturday. You were sitting in the local coffee shop, enjoying a nice hot chocolate and reading a book, when the number two hero sat himself in the seat across from you. You knew who it was almost immediately. I mean, how could you not? You're a hero student with access to the internet; you know practically everything about the man. You managed not to gawk or scream (just barely), but you couldn't help your stutter when you spoke up. Your book is forgotten on the table beside you as you say, "Uhm, what- can I help you?" You ask incredulously, looking at the man with a stare that you hoped said you were unfazed. He smiles at you, an easy, sly grin that creases the corner of his eyes. He rests his head on his hand as he stares you down.
"(L/N) (Y/N), right?" His finger taps the table, partially pointed to you. You nod.
"The one and only," you give him a smile of your own, attempting to match him. He seems so easygoing, every word falling off his tongue with a bit of a drawl.
"Well that's good to hear," he chuckles slightly, all air, and you almost melt into your chair, "because I," he pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and slides it across the table to you, "have a proposition for you." You hesitantly pick up the sheet, turning it over to reveal a phone number.
"I want you at my agency, Angel," your hero name rolls off his tongue like a declaration of love, and he smiles again, bigger this time, his pearly teeth shining in the corner of it, "so give me a call when you decide you want to work with the world's best hero." He winks, oh, god, he winks at you before standing up, planning to make his exit before you can even get another word in. He bends down, leaning in close with a whisper as he taps a finger on the sheet, "don't let me down." He says, and with a final grin and a turn on his heel, he's out the door of the shop. You stare down at the paper in disbelief, wondering what you did to deserve such an opportunity. You don't seem to question how the hero knew you would be there.

Tomorrow is the deadline to pick your agency. You're sat criss-cross on your bed, papers sprawled out in front of you with neighborhood crime rates and agency statistics. Your brain feels fried, honestly, and you'd quite like to go to bed, but you really need to make a decision. You run a hand through your hair, letting out a deep breath. The note Hawks had given you was still sitting in your jacket pocket, untouched since your run-in at the coffee shop. It doesn't feel real, you think, as you make your way off your bed to retrieve it. Why would the number three hero want you of all people? Sure, your quirks were similar enough, but you certainly weren't that impressive at the sports festival. Your last round, your opponent had grabbed one of your wings and threw you out of the ring; definitely one of the most embarrassing moment of your life. You barely used your wings, and half the time they got in your own way, so what could he gain from having you at his agency? The more you thought about it, the more it really just didn't make sense, but he's the number three hero; you'd have to be stupid to give up such a big opportunity.
You sit back down on your bed and retrieve your phone, paper in hand. You hope it's not too late as you type in the numbers and the phone starts ringing. Only a moment before the ringtone clicks off, replaced by a familiar, sultry voice through the speaker.
"There you are, doll. I was beginning to think you forgot about me." Hawks, you realize instantly, is on the other side of the phone- not his agency. You quickly pull yourself together and curate your response.
"Forget about you? Never." Your hand fidgets with the string on your pajama pants, adrenaline rushing through you as a living legend talks to you over the phone.
"So does that mean you want to accept?" He asks, and you hold your breath. This is a pivotal moment for you, one that could change your career as a hero forever. You let out a sigh as you respond.
"Of course," you say, "how could I refuse?"
Hawks smirks to himself on the other side of the line. Perfect.