
Writer | Reader | Fandom Lover | Artist | Floridian millennial | call me ✨darling✨ and my heart is yours | 30 | Looking for love in Alderaan places | Golden dog mom **18+ works found yonder!**
971 posts
Runner's High
Runner's High

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work OR the mindblowing art of @gsony24~used w permission))
Pairing: Pro-Hero!Midoriya x reader (fem!Pro-Hero Reader)
Words: 2.5k
Rating: M | 18+ (begone, young heroes- Allmight is watching...)
Warnings: FOREPLAY (mostly kissing & touching), no piv, shower spicy times, Izuku is Foreplay King, pet names, post-mission stress relief, sweet fluffy times, married shenanigans ensue~
Summary:
How Izuku watched the news religiously almost every evening and still wasn’t tired of hero work after a long day of teaching it, you truly couldn’t fathom– especially since he's dipping back into action himself these days! Though now as you are currently the feature of a televised villain chase alongside his oldest friend, you completely understood his fervor tonight of all nights. He pays you a love-filled congratulations on a job well done~ “Want me to run a shower for you? Get you all cleaned up, relaxed, and back in your waiting man’s arms?” “You better not let me out of these arms unless it’s to get these clothes off.” “I can take care of that too, love. First things first~”
A/N: Spicy Deku lovin' on his pro-hero wife~ that's the fic
For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!
Read on Ao3
“Honey!!” Izuku’s mop of green hair whirls around from where he’s been crouched at your coffee table, rushing around the furniture to meet you, “They just finished coverage, I saw the whole thing!!”
Despite your initially quiet entry into the house, you knew a calm ‘welcome home’ wasn’t possible with your darling spouse around.
Kicking off against your initial lock of the door, you push yourself up and meet his enthusiastic steps with confident strides up into his waiting arms. He squeezes you tight as you breathe deeply for the first time all night, as he praises you for an excellent job well done.
Ushing and gushing over you is standard business for Izuku, but when you respond to any kind of big heavy-hitting emergency, you’d best be prepared for a glowing lecture of how incredible you were. In detail. With footnotes.
How Izuku watched the news religiously almost every evening and still wasn’t tired of hero work after a long day of teaching it, you truly couldn’t fathom– especially since he's dipping back into the hero world himself! Though now as you are currently the feature of a televised villain chase alongside his oldest friend, you completely understood his fervor tonight of all nights.
All you can do is listen on to the praise-fueled rant and moan contentedly as he sways you in place, happy to stay in his space and never leave. You changed clothes at the relief zone, but wanting to get home to your husband meant you rushed the normal cleanup. Anything to expedite your departure and keep your runner’s high at the forefront of your mind. The debrief paperwork would be due by the start of business tomorrow: and that’s what the morning commute is for.
Izuku chuckles as you nuzzle him back in order to conveniently shut him up a little… but his chirps become even more surprised when your kisses grow firmer, more revved, with more nibble into each taste.
In your force, you’ve backed him up to the end of your dining table, his rear end hitting it with a small thud. Once he’s cushioned your joint collision with the wood surface, he’s freed up his hands to run the length of you in response.
Izuku’s always been this way– most sated when you’re home, even when he knows you’ve been successful in a fight. He just rests better knowing you’re back safe and sound and without a scratch on you. Given his previous and gratuitous ‘fighting strategies’, any day you come home unscathed is an extra dollop on the ‘win’ cake.
And don’t you just give off the impression of a treat, yourself. Dressed in a ‘Deku’ pullover and a winning smile is the perfect ensemble on you.
As you lean into every one of his touches and even go so far as to straddle a leg of his, Izuku holds you still for a second, and takes a deep inhale.
“Hm...You smell like Kacchan.”
Part of your finishing move tonight featured a combo with none other than ‘Dynamight’, where you partnered up back to back and utilized your powers in full force- and in close quarters.
While it’s a keen observation on his part, that comment turns up your nose. Burnt sugar and gasoline don’t exactly make an appealing mix to you.
“Ugh I know. Need’ta shower, sorry.”
“No, it’s ok! I don't mind it,” Izuku is quick to say and quicker to run his hands up and down your back. “I’m used to it, you know that! Just been a while since it’s uh– I’ve smelt it this strong.”
You rolled your eyes. Only he could idolize Katsuki Bakugou in this way, even as he’s recalling memories when he was on the receiving end of said hero’s blasts, back in training. Never once has Bakugou held back in practice or in gametime; he’d consider it an offense if you were to ever bring anything less than your best to the table; so go beyond, you did.
But Izuku assures that he doesn’t think the combination of that heady scent is repulsive on you. Quite the opposite.
“It’s proof that you worked hard; you both did what you had to do. You saved the day, my love~”
You never get tired of hearing that. As a support hero, it's a largely thankless job. When you are acknowledged, it's usually en masse with other heroes like you from a grandstand: ‘without whom none of this is possible’.
But to come from your man, who holds you in such high esteem no matter your hero ranking, it’s the only kind of praise you need. After tonight’s showdown, you might have very well proved yourself to Bakugou as well, but it’s not like he’d ever admit it to your face.
You leave it to Izuku alone: who makes it his job to build you up everyday.
“You saved everyone. N’ hey- you’re my hero now, aren't you? All mine, for the rest of the night~” he speaks the claim as truth.
A happy-hearted sigh leaves you under the full grasp of his attention.
“Yeah…But if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather smell like you, not a pomeranian with bomb sweat and- ahhh- ah– anger issues...”
Kneading -and needy- hands rub your lower back muscles expertly and grab a handful of your ass while they’re at it.
Izuku kisses the sliver of your neck that’s just barely exposed; an excuse to offer his relaxation plan to you,
“M’yeah? Want me to run a shower for you? Get you all cleaned up, relaxed, and back in your waiting man’s arms?”
Tightening your hold, tugging him down his sweatshirt by the drawstring, you whisper back to him, “You better not let me out of these arms unless it’s to get these clothes off.”
Izuku smirks but not without an excited shudder– still unable to shake your forwardness even months after you’ve married. Just as you’ve done for him when he’s come back from a tireless night on patrol, he kneels to start on your boots.
“I can take care of that too, love. First things first~”
He takes the greatest care when handling you- from every latch, button, and tie as part of your hero getup. Each element is what protects you, so he treats it with appreciation. He’s also extremely knowledgeable about how best to maintain each support item– slowing down to stow each piece away properly, where you’d normally rush through taking it off in favor of getting yourself out of work-mode.
The change in pace is meant to subliminally teach you how to do it better, but you honestly love the special attention he spares to even your accessories, and claim an angelic ‘I like the way you do it’ to get out of the task entirely.
You’ll blame the adrenaline on it later, or maybe the power high you’re on from receiving more than a fair share in tonight’s mission success you didn’t typically get from the media…in either case, you feel on top of the world- and fully intended to carry that energy home, where Izuku alone will benefit.
Sometimes you’ll chat away, while other times find you too tired to say anything at all… but here and now, you can’t help but let the tongue and your hands wander.
To thank Izuku for this and all other efforts he makes to your benefit, you take advantage of this angle. From the moment you’re propping your foot up on his bent thigh in order for him to unlace you, he’s an easy target: he goes near brainless when you stroke through his hair while he carries on with a job, so you do just that.
One long, smooth scratch along his scalp, and Izuku’s cheeks lift at the touch- until his face goes slack altogether at your words:
“They don’t make ‘em like you anymore, y’know that?” you sigh down to him, “My sweet boy…”
A little sound escapes him, soothed for a moment, until he doubles down and whines low in his chest,
“Aww, don’t do that..”
Testing his limits, you settle on thumbing along his cheek instead, “Why not, baby?”
“This is s’possed to be ‘bout you..”
“Who says this isn’t for me?” you try for a scratch along the nape of his neck instead; it bears the same heavy-lidded result. “You’re who I work hard for at the end of the day, after all~”
Your husband gawks up at you, turning the tables on him so quickly. He shouldn’t be surprised because you were always so sweet on him… but it’s a show of his resolve how he shakes his freckled face at you with a knowing smirk and pats your other leg to switch sides.
Someday you might win in the battle of who can outdo one another in love, but Mr. Midoriya seems to be winning this one. Must be because you’ve exerted enough for one day and he has one up on you– that’s the excuse you’ll cling to, that is.
It’s not like he’s unaffected by you, however. What he will do is carry you off to the bathroom like you’re weightless with stars in his eyes, runs hot water while kissing every inch of skin he exposes.. and when he gets to your back, light sheen of caramel-y sweat exposed in its fullest, he finds himself wiping it off with particular prejudice before you can even step into the shower to wash it off completely. Makes you giggle, how funny he takes your word so seriously; he will get that smell off of you if you want it gone, dammit.
Seems there was a purpose to it after all, because in your mirrored reflection you catch sight of Izuku lapping up at the spot once offending you as it doubles now as pleasure. Sweetly and gently toying the line between being at your service and keeping you all to himself.
It’s a dance you love and are addicted to- especially knowing that this behavior out of your normally shy and doting sweetheart comes from a place of complete adoration and attraction to how capable and competent you are. That reciprocated oath is what you promised each other: to uplift and protect each other’s hearts, minds, and souls above all else~
Actions follow his promised words; Izuku knows nothing of half measures.
He’s barely letting you stand under the stream of water without his hands or lips on you, washing you up and taking extra care with every crease and crevice… until of course you feel an extra wave of satisfaction when he gets analytical of your capture mission, and put you right back on the edge of jumping his bones:
Only he could turn hero commentary into steamy shower talk~ and you love it.
“Y’know just when I think I know your tells… knees tucking in on your bike, making it change to your size.. squaring up, leaning into a curve- you still come up with these out-of-the-box ideas...”
It’s up to you to get your hair washed, since his attentions are squarely set elsewhere.
“Maximizing your output using another power source in your rear engines -siphoning Kacchan’s firepower like that-, gosh, that's… that's inspired! And not even straying an inch from your trajectory? I-I don't know how you do it, honey~”
Heavens, he’d better stop with this. Then again, do you really want him to? He’s so considerate, even now as he’s breaking down what he loved most about watching you while his hands busy themselves with that favorite sugar scrub of yours.
It’s about your skill, not just confidence. Your reasoning, not just the pared-down version you have to minimize for the press in order to not seem self-absorbed or take too much of their time. You might sum up your work in a more palatable way for the public when interviewed as you were and keep the conversation mission-based; Deku here knows full well that’s at the center of why you work as a hero! But beneath all that, listing out each of the things you know you put into plan and executed -minutiae that you spare the reporters on site- is a whole other level of attentiveness.
No one knows you like ‘Zuku does. No statistician can catch those little moves, knowing you’ve put thought and training into every one. No bystander or fan adores you like he can, praising you the minute you come home as a gesture more meaningful than just to flatter you.
Izuku means to be your partner in everything; to be your anchor and the wind in your sails. When he can’t be alongside you in a mission together, he’s damn sure to be there the moment you can share space again.
And even when things go sideways and bear down on you harder than you anticipated– his tune doesn’t change. He’s still proud of you. To an immense and immovable degree. The way in which you try your best doesn’t change, so why would his opinion of you fall away? He would still collect you up in his embrace and take care of you in the same fashion with the same promises of support, rain or shine.
Izuku whispers gently as he takes the showerhead completely off the wall to rinse you– the stream is directed squarely between your shoulder blades, exactly where you like it…
“Your talent,” he continues, “that strength comin’ out of nowhere…” down your back, lower and lower as your wits tread on a thin wire– “You, baby, are nothing short of striking, and creative a-and-”
“And turned on as fuck-” you push him back into the wall with a hard kiss.
Izuku drops the showerhead completely with a touch of concern to what it’s done to your tub lining– before you override his attention span, that is. Hands into his dampened hair, you show him what his eye for your strengths means to you.
And damn him, when you do give him room for breath– he’s smirking.
“So says the girl who swears Kacchan is ‘not rubbing off on her’.”
He pokes fun at your atypical foul mouth, but you kiss that smirk off him anyway.
“Gimme a break,” you moan into his space, “You’ve been out of practice with him for a few years. Get an earful of his rants in your ear day in and day out, and see if you don’t start cussing up a storm.”
“I seemed to make it ok the first twenty years of my life. My baby must really be tired, thenNNN!!.”
An exploratory hand crept down and teased right along Izuku’s happy trail.
“Not that tired, Mr. Midoriya. Now if you do not take me to that bed in the next ten seconds, I swear I am going to explode.”
So up you go into his arms, over his shoulder and deposited onto the bed a bit more rough and playful than normal– soaked to the bone without a care for grabbing a towel on his way out. He sure aims to please.
You shriek in laughter, at least until you feel him yank you to the bed’s edge– to his waiting mouth.
“Proud of you, honey… lemme show you how much, hm?”
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More Posts from Court-jobi
red feathers fan across your line of sight, blocking the television from view as keigo chirps, "hey baby, what do you wanna order for din—"
"shhhhhh."
leaning forward off of the couch, you grab keigo by the pocket of his sweatpants and tug him sideways out of the way. he blinks, letting out a small huff before unceremoniously collapsing onto the cushion beside you, face smushed against your shoulder.
"imagine if you liked paying attention to your boyfriend as much as you like watching your sho—"
"keigo!"
his wings droop, and he groans, sliding even lower to drop his head face down in your lap.
"AND NEXT UP, WE'VE GOT TODAY'S SPECIAL SEGMENT ON THE NUMBER TWO HERO...HAWKS!"
keigo perks up and rolls over, eyes darting from the footage of his skyscraper fire rescue the other day to the proud smile on your face as you stare at the screen.
his feathers ruffle, and he preens.
"you know you've got the real thing right in fron—"
this time, when you place a finger over his lips and continue to ignore him, he just rolls his eyes and grins, making himself comfortable in your lap.
I think the beauty of being a multifandom blogger just means you have the power to try and drag others into fandoms with you that they didn’t originally follow you for
The Bet

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work/characters))
Pairing: Hawks x reader (fem!reader)
Words: 4.2k
Rating: T
Warnings: flirty FLUFF hours, yall, quirkless!reader/Pro-Hero Hawks, tame dressing room shenanigans, light teasing, he fell first she fell harder vibes
Summary:
Hawks loves a playful game, and you're a sucker for each and every one. Till now, you've taken his harmless flirting as just that, but it is starting to seep into you. You're a four time best-selling author– brought low by a boy calling you the most darling things… only today, you'd profit off of his attentions by way of a bet-- or was this just another way for him to spoil you?
A/N: this is one of the first Hawks ideas I had, based on the hc that he'd have an eye for fashion given all those gorgeous accessories he wears... pretty bird likes pretty things. gosh I just love this man. oh gosh, do I part 2 this one? Might be fun… and spicy… edit: now available HERE
For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!
Read on Ao3
“Alright m’dear, I'm impressed,” your Winged Hero pins up his wings with a slow clap, “You win!”
As you’re stepping out of the car, suave cheers are the flirty taunt you hear over your shoulder– well, up on the lightpost.
“Win?” you fire back to the source of shadow over you -Hawks- as he hops off and strides over to you, “-were we playing something?”
“The race,” he shares plain as day. “Thought I’d race ya back to the Commission's office, see if I could beat your- charming- chauffeur here since I was on my way too~”
Ah, so it was a one-sided game, it seems. The driver who picked you up from the conference center passes you, poorly masking his exhaustion at the flyboy’s presence at just about every turn. When it involves transporting you, the poor man knows Hawks won’t be far behind.
It’s not like you encourage this behavior… but you don’t stop it either.
Between the two of you, the money on who could remain the most professional in public would sit squarely in your court. But to say it didn’t interest you, this mysterious focus of affection from the #2 Hero in the country? Well, riddle you intrigued. So you let him talk- as long as you keep your ironclad guard up, you tell yourself you’ll resist his teasing just fine.
You shoulder your belongings in order to follow the driver, but slow your pace for Hawks to catch up. He’s earned a bite, with those pretty eyes of his.
“And just how did you know I was even going to the Commission's office?”
“You really gotta start setting your calendar to ‘private’ if you don’t want me seein’ where you’re heading, lovedove.”
You really should be better about changing your working location on your calendar– because if it involves your contract with the Hero Commission, Hawks inevitably will see it. All in all, he's not wrong, so you can't really call him nosy when you've advertised where you'll be. He's notably observant as per his profession, and the dearly devoted attention is… sweet, in its own way.
And the pet names. You’re a sucker for the pet names. How pathetic.
You’re a four time best-selling author– brought low by a boy calling you the most darling things… There’s something oddly American about Hawks’ forwardness, indeed. There’s hardly an ounce of propriety on him. All gorgeous grins, fawning compliments spouting from his lips, and hearts in his eyes.
“But!” Hawks sighs in faux dejection, “since you beat me here fair and square, I guess that makes you the winner this time.”
You bite the inner of your cheek, “And what have I won?”
“That's up to the victor- whoever got through all that traffic to the office fastest gets a favor of their choice. I bet a nice dinner out, buuuut I don’t believe you’ve decided just yet...”
“Don’t you have enter a race in order to win it.”
Hawks lifts his hands, “Nnnope~ I don’t make the rules, I’m just telling you what they are.”
How generous.
“A hero’s favor: I’m speechless,” you fein sarcasm, but it comes out just as flirtatious.
Boyish charm on full blast, Hawks starts walking in reverse a few extra steps: to get a better look at you as you set each perfect stride forward.
“So. What'll it be? Office hours with yours truly? New tablet? Maybe treat you to a subscription for those shnazzy glasses you like so much? I know a pretty neat brand deal who'll be happy to set you up~”
He’s laying it on thick… but from the back of your mind -the part you really try to silence while on the clock as a consummate professional- you throw Hawks a curveball:
”A dress.”
Hawks pauses and blinks, “Say again?”
“You heard me. I want a nice dress. I can't remember the last time I went shopping, plus I certainly don't have my wardrobe from New York– and there's a board dinner coming up next week. So, I'll need a dress.”
“Oh really?” Hawks comes to scritch at what little, tailored facial hair he has, “Done!”
Yes, you needed a dress. Yes, you have a particularly dashing hero willing to wine and dine and hold a childish bet as the excuse for him to buy it for you. Yes, you even have full plans to send some photos of the excursion to him as a little treat for his efforts.
But yes, you’re regretting everything.
Taking a personal day, you drag out your morning routine to maximum enjoyment. A quick, efficient breakfast wouldn’t do today; this called for a home-baked casserole moment to start your time off at home. Light and easy, it held you over through some oddball errands, which you humored your friend back home with as you called her up on the way to the shopping complex,
“//It’s a blend of formal and not, here– like, you’ll have someone dressed to the nines in a full suit, then a girl walks up onto the train looking straight out of a k-pop video!//”
You chatter away in your first language, brain taking a sufficient backseat from the Japanese your father raised you on.
“//Yeah, I mean, I love the looks, it’s just fashion whiplash sometimes. There’s also an insane amount of hero merch- it’d put Iron Man to shame… Oh, for sure, you’d have a field day– and no bank accou–... you’ve gotta be kidding me.//”
Your bestie asks what happened on your end of the line; why your voice suddenly fell to a groaning whisper.
Peeping down from the rooftop of the dress shop was Hawks– a pleased smirk on full display and waving, having lifted your sights with a little whistle that a bird a fraction of his size might have made.
Somehow, you knew better- hearing the utter tease in that bird call.
“//My god… I’m an idiot.//”
Hindsight working as it wills, you realized your regret at telling him where you were interested in going to shop around, and blamed your bogged-down memory that still failed to update your shared calendar and remove some pesky permissions for privacy’s sake. Can’t even say he didn’t warn you- Hawks teased you of it straight up.
These two slips combined meant you should not have thought any freedom would be yours when a muted flash of red rains a couple of stray, baby feathers atop you as you approach the storefront.
“Hiya~!” he calls to your stunned face, which gives way to resignation. Tender, willing resignation.
Hand shielding your face from the sun, you make out where he’s cocked his head at you and simply offer a little crook of your finger to make him come down.
“--I’ll call you back~” you tactfully ignore all of your bestie’s spot-on assumptions that the fabled flyboy had arrived to collect on your winnings.
He was a grown man. Surely a picture to approve the purchase and details for wiring the money at checkout would have sufficed for this little venture- did he have to accompany you?
"Ahhh time for you to model for me, eh gorgeous?" Hawks croons once he arrives by your side.
Your gentleel, pacifying nature mutes the barest flicker of an eye roll. "Please don't make me regret this, dear."
"No funny business, promise," he held his hands out in defense. "A bet is a bet. You claimed your terms, I deliver. I'm just here honoring our deal."
You pause now that you were four feet from the door. For some reason, you felt a pang of nerves underneath your cool exterior. To double it, you were positive his attention should likely be anywhere but here. Seeing as he’s dressed down in street clothes settles that worry, but you still think he should surely be needed somewhere other than a women’s dressing room.
"I never meant you had to be present for redemption, though."
“Course I do. Fine print; ‘must provide adequate supervision’. For posterity’s sake– you know how it is, dove.”
“Seems I don’t know a lot of these ‘terms’ when it comes to you…”
"Humor a poor, losing man's wish. After you."
You couldn't lie, Hawks was a pro at sweet talking and complimenting you- and seemingly only towards you. Press conferences and bathroom trips alike, he seeks out an opening to ask you something so down-to-earth that you never consider a chat with him to be strictly ‘small talk’. Truly it didn't matter the duration– Hawks flew to you like a magnet, but never carried out the same saucy line twice. It’s enough to make you think whatever’s happening between you is not something casual for him…
Not since the night you met, where talk between you lifted the persona of ‘Hawks’ and revealed the man underneath bit by bit. He shed that outer bravado almost immediately with you; you could tell that’s a rare (and perhaps dangerous) move on his part.
To be true, you liked that part. That felt real. It was that rationale which you hung onto. Let yourself be tugged by the side of your brain that allowed Hawks to usher you into a particular formalwear shop you’d heard rave reviews from a coworker a few months into your life in Japan.
This one-on-one time together could be a sweet fever dream– or a horrendous case of honey-dipped hives. You’d focus on the positives for now: so long as he minds his hold on your heartstrings, perhaps your new crimson shadow would prove your mistrusting gut wrong…
Hawks follows companionably behind once you walk in. His wings are shucked a touch shorter today, and elicit a few double takes from some folks between racks.
You note the peeping and low gasps, and cast a look back to him as you turned a corner,
"Second thoughts about a public appearance in daylight?"
Hawks grins back without missing a beat.
"Not a chance~ Wouldn't miss this time for the world."
You start up the escalators and he keeps one step lower. Ever the faithful duckling, when you veer off towards the formalwear, a woman came right to greet you both– immediately recognizing the pro hero at your heels. After you assure her that you were alright managing on your own, you were happy to find Hawks mimic your reasoning when asked again– and kept the interaction short and sweet.
Then the teasing started.
‘D’ya like this one?’ ‘This would hug you in all sortsa good ways.’ ‘Watch out gents, here comes trouble~’
“Red would look stunning on you.”
You eye Hawks playfully– both at what he suggests and the proof that stems from below his shoulders: where he prominently featured the color on his person.
"It's a better color on you, hon,” you hedge against his push for that dress. “Besides, I'm looking for length and cut, not just color."
Less than happy with your objectives, he picks one up anyway. "Sure about that? Give it a real look."
Red, of course, and while you nearly straight-up ignored the selection outright– you thought it over once you saw the dress he was referring to. From an exasperated cock of the head, you straighten up, consider, and hold it yourself. It wasn't bad, actually… The fabric was divine.
You ask for a couple sizes for him to check. Making out the Japanese characters on these tiny SKU cards was still hard to read, so you are genuinely thankful for his presence now more than when you came in.
"Hmmm…” Hawks put himself to work, but fell just as puzzled as you. “Euro sizes here, it looks like."
"Oh crap, that's right..." you mumble through the ‘dress math’ after a quick conversion chart lookup and notice they do have it in your size.
“I’ll– think about it,” you placate him.
Hawks conveniently pulls out his phone and makes a note by your contact– listing your dress size ‘for future reference’.
He didn’t make a show of it, but wasn’t subtle with what’s on his screen, either… so you clear out your phone's notifications with thinly veiled sass and an overactive thumb.
"Are you blushing?" Hawks calls to break you out of your stewing.
"Hush you~" You pocket your phone again while he chuckles.
"Okay okay, back to business. What about this one?"
A deep gunmetal floor length gown is what catches Hawks’ attention next. It’s downright elegant, but a bit over the top.
"Hm, shame. I can see that one for maybe an embassy event..."
Watching Hawks peruse is amusing. He stays away from the flashy, multi-textured colors, but the muted metallics and jewel tones draw him to finger through racks consistently. More to match his suit selection, you figure. So, you entertain him when you circle back to the red dress in your size, and hand it over to him to carry. You ignore the way Hawks’ eyes light up and follow after you, humming some happy little earworm.
"Ooo~ what's this black one by its lonesome over there?"
By the off-yellow tag, he spots a factory sample: ideal length, asymmetrical cut, appealing neckline and just your type. Hawks couldn’t hide his appreciative look your way as he holds it out and imagines it on your body type.
“Well now, that’s cute~”
"Try it?"
You agree and read off the dress size again (more for your memory than his). For a second, you catch sight of the reverse side of the tag, and almost choke as you return to the few items he held draped across his arm, inspecting each of their tags as well, "//Holy hell-//"
“Language," Hawks chuckles.
Your eyes fire humorously back at him, with a firm grip on the price tag of the one in your hand.
"This dress -here- is over a thousand dollars!!" you stage-whisper.
Hawks conspiratorially looks around, and matches your whispered tone, "--You're trying it on!"
"Hawks."
"Keigo–" He reminds you, softer still, and relieves it from your hands to join the red one. "And you're wearing it. What else? You need more than two options."
Avoidant of the pricepoint, you find one in a navy satin and another deeper purple number till you sit Hawks down forcibly on a bench outside when he proceeds to follow you into a room as a gag.
While the blue could use a different size, the black was your favorite so far. You’d be pleased that you won’t leave here unhappy, certainly, if you still weren’t so sticker-shocked.
But then the red dress -perfectly hung and whispering to you- reminds you he was still out there, waiting to see it.
"You still alive in there, sunshine? Haven't heard a peep in a while."
"What, you wanna see every one?" You fire back confidently, but with your pulse racing.
"Only fair. I'm here as a second pair of eyes."
"Hm. That's what I'm worried about."
He laughs it off. "Come out, I wanna see you."
So you slip out of your room in the black midi dress with a little shuffle of your hair, looking damn gorgeous and an ideal knockout in any professional circle. There’s a perfectly-structured, white accented jacket in your arm that you slide on and look across to a mirror.
No second-guessing filled your mind at all when you took in the full ensemble. Pleased, you made your third immediate regret looking through the mirror’s forced perspective at the man sitting behind you.
Yes, Hawks -the #2 fan-favored Pro-Hero- is GAWKING.
"So? What’s the verdict?"
His eyes roam, but meet yours when prompted. "I .. didn't expect anything less than gorgeous on you, but... you are stunning."
The flatterer was present, but the undertone carried out from his compliment seems utterly adoring. Those golden eyes aren't far off from hungry, yet he respectfully rests his sights to your eyes more than anywhere else.
"Do you like it?" Hawks craves your opinion above all.
"I really do." You turn to the side to check your posture, and take the outer layer off again. "I'll have the jacket for other things too, if I go with this one. But I think the straps should be fine for Endeavor’s agency, right?"
"Have you seen Bubble Girl?" Hawks mouths off, now standing by you. "She's one nip slip away from an x rated advertisement."
"Hey!"
"To put it kindly! No, this is- tastefully sexy." The backs of his fingers brush by your elbow. He takes care not to let the touch linger but enjoys the view all the same while he has it.
You smirk back and feel great about your top choice.
"--What about the red one?"
–and there it is.
You fix the jacket collar absently so it doesn’t crease, "Haven't tried it yet."
"It’s next, right?"
You roll your eyes. "You're incorrigible."
"I'm a man of my tastes~ and I have a good feeling about it."
So you change, with a few impatient remarks from outside the door. This one has you a bit more nervous.
The leg slit had you hot flashing on your neck and up your jaw– standing vulnerable in your stall. Checking over yourself, you’re suddenly aware of Hawks’ comments at the apartment that one night after he dropped you off from a spur-of-the-moment karaoke night. Something about the high cut that reminded you that Hawks was a leg man for sure, and he'd surely have a field day seeing a dress with this much skin. The sleeves were shimmering and gorgeous, and you felt comfortable otherwise. So... nothing left but to strut it out and get it over with.
Coming out, you could have snorted at the way Hawks melted.
Wings drooped, the man slack-jawed and eyes blown into an awestruck stare, you feel 90% more proud. Sauntering to the mirror, you fuss over the look in perfect confidence now- spinning to give him the first once-over before you could get the first grand look yourself.
"I'll admit, good find,” you praise appreciatively, thankful he didn’t start howling the second you emerged. “You saw it first. Happy?"
Hawks is quiet for a beat but lifts to your gaze again shyly before looking back.
"Ah... You’re.. really beautiful. I mean, wow," he hides behind some propped up hands.
You smile and don't care now fast your heart flutters. The butterflies warm you all the same, in that special way he seems to bring out in you. What were once nerves turn to calm as he watches you turn and joins your side again, a bit closer.
A strong, soothing hand slightly correcting where the seam fell along your side, you kept your focus on the event itself and not on his touchiness. Much easier to do than reading into Hawks’ reaction and attention on you.
"It’s a little formal for next week, but... I may have to remember to come back for this one some other time. When the right occasion strikes."
That decision seems to break him from his trance: "Oh no– you're getting that one, too."
You whip your head aside fast, "No way. Deal was one dress. That last one is already over 800- plus whatever the jacket was, technically-"
"I don't believe it's your job to worry about cost, sunshine." Hawks pockets his hands confidently, staring you down exclusively in the mirror’s view.
“Haw----Keigo…”
“You won. Winner called for dress shopping. You never specified how many.”
“I’m pretty sure I did name a one, singular event in mind-”
“Nonetheless, I am indeed the loser and therefore the payor of said bet.” Hawks fixes you a firmer look than usual. “I say you get both. Black set for next week, the red for… call it a rainy day.”
You believe his seriousness, but can’t shake a twinge of guilt at the cost. This was a silly bet; a saucy wager between two people that tests the waters of what you’d call this friendship…
“Look– I’m sure money isn’t an object for you, but this would—”
“--be my pleasure.” Hawks won’t let you finish- “C’mon- When was the last time you bought something like this for yourself?”
Hawks holds you by the shoulders to turn back to the mirror. At your quick study over the red semi-formal gown again, you flip your sleeve cuff into place and miss the loving look he gave while pulling your hair back softly.
His fingers return to your shoulders but with the gentlest, experimental touches to your neck in its path.
“You -my darling wordsmith- have, no doubt, the kindest heart I’ve ever met in one of the hardest cities in Japan. Those two things shouldn’t coexist in this kinda world, but you thrive in it. You’re… so good. You haven’t let the hard stuff touch you, even when you’re neck deep in it. Not only that, I’d say you're also easily the most resourceful mind PR’s had in years; hell, of any agency on the field. You’re brilliant, funny, and as I've so recently discovered today– downright gorgeous, no matter what you’ve got on.”
His gaze separates in favor of fixing a portion of hair back into place– light preening, by his standards.
“Gems like you come once in a lifetime; if anyone is that lucky to meet one nearly as great as you… they should consider it a blessing…”
You hadn’t realized you'd leaned back into his space until you register his hand sliding down to caress your elbow, and his other fingers resting right on your waist.
He tilts ever so slightly to speak towards your ear; his eyes meeting yours again, a sparkle in them that has you wrecked.
“You won a stupid bet, sure; but you deserve to be treated more often than once-in-a-blue-moon. Call me selfish for taking the role of the guy who gets the pleasure.”
Your polite smile turns lopsided, just listening to this rare show of heart.
“Please let me do this for you, lovedove. Please?”
Sorry gut, you’ve been proven wrong. He’s a verified angel, and to be frank, you’re tired of avoiding the flip in your tummy when you see him. With Hawks pressed against your back, you’re not troubled by what fleeting intentions he may or may not have– not when you can see them plainly in that pretty face looking back at you.
While your standards had always been on sharp lookout for the catch behind his behavior, what made Hawks’ company something you looked forward to was the heart behind the charm... that soft feeling you caught every now and then when you two spoke behind closed doors or in passing. He carried a depth with him, but also a lightness that seemed to shine whenever he took to your presence– like he was chasing after joy, not just chasing some tail.
Perhaps that was enough for you to want something more than these quick interludes, and draw out this little dress date into lunch.
You nudge your head toward his. “Red, for a rainy day, huh?”
He nuzzles you back perfectly. “Mhm~”
“Rainy days call for rainy dates, don’t they?”
Interest lifts the hero’s wings, but he keeps his voice sure and calm, “Sure would be poetic~”
You don’t break eye contact with him in the mirror while you mesh your fingers with his on your waistline,
“Then I guess a certain someone should ask me. Get something on the calendar he’s actually invited to.”
Hawks matches his hold on your waist fully now, relishing the touchpoints he’s sharing with you.
“Now that sounds like a great idea, sunshine.”
“Maybe.. swap some time slots– over lunch?”
A soft glint in his eye, Hawks dips to give your shoulder a small peck, “Done.”
Happy with your bravery - as well as the amount of eye contact that will last you the next four to six business days- you finally cut away from watching Hawks in that damn mirror, and sway side to side enough to give him the hint you were ready to get changed again. Only before he steps completely away, you catch his wrist with a quick, blind question over your shoulder.
“Hey– help unzip me?”
You’d zipped yourself perfectly fine… this was for him.
A happy little exhale leaving him as he snugs back up to you, Hawks flares out his wings a bit as he catches that tiny zipper until it reaches your mid back right where you could normally reach- and then a tad lower.
“There y’go~” Hawks murmurs to your ear again, “I’ll make sure no one catches an eyeful that they shouldn’t.”
You look back to him over your shoulder, “No one?”
An invitation offered, Hawks gives an appreciative glance down where your dress barely splits open.
“Not trying to jump straight to dessert here, yknow. Sounds like I’ve got a hot date.”
Chuckling, you finally twist and keep your new dress up by the front,
“You’re right– it’s not like it’ll be the last time you see me in this. You wanted dinner out, right?”
Hawks gave an agreeable hum, nodding along the way.
You chip his chin toward you for him to listen,
“Then call me a sore loser next time, so you can collect~”
Part 2
The Bet (Hawks' Version)

((Banner by me!! I don't own Horikoshi's works/characters))
Pairing: Hawks x reader (fem!reader)
Words: 7k //good grief//
Rating: M | 18+ (put down the spicy chicken bucket, baby birds)
Warnings: NSFW, foreplay confessions, DTR, first time, piv smut, porn w feelings, flirting, kissing galore, biting & marking, vocal Hawks is vocal, wrap it up this is fantasy
Summary:
You turn the tables on Hawks' games -the ones he insists are crafted with you alone in mind. You've benefited from his tokens and gestures for long enough, and plan one of your own. You'd think he'd be happier to see you strut around in it once you're home and 'Keigo' can enjoy it all to himself… but once your heels come off in the doorway of your apartment, he makes one thing clear: he'd rather take it off. He’d damn near tear it off you with the promise to buy you a dozen dresses just like it, if you didn’t make such a sweet appeal to 'get comfortable' together~
A/N: as promised, part 2 has arrived!! Missed Part 1? Not required, but makes it a bit sweeter, IMO, so catch up if you'd like~
For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!
Read on Ao3
Three months since your shopping excursion, you turned the tables on Hawks and placed a one-sided bet yourself. It was a harmless game, just as his had been from the start.
You’d watched him pace on the edge of a building by happenstance, noting how he walked the teetery edge like a tightrope against the harsh wind. He's incredibly athletic -that point, you never doubted- but surely he couldn't make it clear across the edge without tripping off to the side…
His wings would pitch in at any sign of a fall, but you made the sneaky bet that even their offset couldn’t keep him upright the whole way.
…but he did~ graceful and with a little personal stroke of pride as he batted his feathers back onto the roof of the building when he reached the rain gutter at the end. So cute, he even marked himself ‘safe’ like in baseball as he accomplished his goal while waiting for his intern to arrive.
From the ground below, you couldn't believe how such a man had caught your eye- one as flashy as he was. Normally you'd have veered far away from big personalities like that… but look at this kid, here.
He's taking names of bad guys across the country and raking in hundreds of thousands of dollars in promotional money alone (much of it funneling secretly to charities, you came to learn), but here he is entertaining himself: like the child he is at heart.
… That little show earned Keigo a text.
From your cell, you sent a far off video snippet of your dashing Pro-Hero traipsing around, with the overlaid caption:
You win, pretty bird ♥️ Made it across, and didn't tip over once! Still want that dinner?
Just your luck, Hawks pulled out his phone in real time after you sent the message.
He's swiping, he's shielding it against the glare of the sun to read, and– yup, now he's jumping. And hollering for the whole wide world to hear, if they were only paying attention to the punk on the roof across the street.
You giggled to yourself, shaking your head. What were you gonna do with him?
That question was easy to answer; you know exactly what you'd be doing and wearing.
Hawks will be granted his wish after losing that first bet after all, with you completing the perfect night out in that stunning red dress.
Sake-soaked words, a lovely meal, and a thousand endearing stares later, you two are seated on the way back to your place courtesy one of Hawks’ longtime drivers employed from his agency- where he could unabashedly makeout with you in the backseat. He's come through with enough personal favors with the hero to take him on harmless outings without snitching: movies, the rare sportsball game… dates, you ask him, but Hawks assures you this is the first time fairer company has joined him for a ride.
Mindful as you are, you’re careful not to make too much noise, though Hawks says his valet hates him just as much as yours does.
‘Some people just don’t see the appeal, and can't handle me~’ he’ll goad, but you still make a pitiful attempt to make him behave in mixed company.
Hard to do, when you're backed up against the seat of the car with an adoring angel of a man testing the limits of his seatbelt to a ridiculous degree-all for the simple plea to hold you closer:
How he can't wait another minute. How good you look. How really good you look.
It doesn’t help the Hero’s impatience when you’ve draped your legs across his lap, exposing the thigh where your dress cuts open. Hawks has a handful of it the entire way home, content to massage and fondle any inch of you he can get.
After several months of teasing that this thing has been in the back of your closet, you'd think he'd be happier to see you strut around in it… but once your heels come off in the doorway of your apartment, Hawks makes it clear: he'd rather take it off. He’d damn near tear it off you with the promise to buy you a dozen dresses just like it, if you didn’t make such a sweet appeal to dress down and get comfortable together~
Obviously, Hawks sees no need for wearing night clothes to bed with what you tease in his ear. Though you laugh nervously about that very fact the whole way to your bedroom, to your walk-in closet where he unzips you fully: and to now as you’re slung over his shoulder wrapped up like a cigar in the towels you’d grabbed for your inevitable shower together...
You wonder what he'd done that for when you just planned to toss them into your ensuite bathroom– only to realize he wanted to unwrap you himself. He’s in full playtime mode, and that makes you hysterical as he whistles along to your bedroom despite your squirming.
"Keigo!!" you mind your volume a second too late, muting your giggles, "Keigo, what in the hell do you think you're up to?"
"Getting you to bed-- what's it look like I'm doing?" your Pro-Hero rumbles as he drops you gracelessly on the mattress. Off-hours Keigo was fun- and a welcome sight after his long-awaited return from Tokyo.
No longer the apartment he simply drops you off after nights like this spent out on the town: he spends a few nights a week here. The home where he can snuggle in and shut out the roar of nightlife more than his solo apartment.
Though till now, you’ve not traipsed this close to the edge of the intimate boundary.
You scramble for the sheet’s edge, still minding your tucked towels as much as you can before Hawks’ impatience gets the best of him.
"It's freezing though; get in if you wanna mess around!"
Rolling a little eye, Hawks rests back on his heels where he’s perched on the mattress, and makes a small, swift flare of one wing with a few feathers shooting out, and the flames on your small portable fireplace rekindle themselves with a feather’s arrow-straight press. Your head shoots to the noise and light suddenly casts the warm, flickering glow on his skin and yours.
Bright eyes look up at him, impressed by his little trick,
"Woah! Is that new??"
"New to you. I try not to show off everything my feathers can do to the fans right away. Gotta leave ‘em wanting more."
You collect your hair above the pillow and flop back alluringly, having forgotten for a moment altogether his glory is on display just a foot away from you laid hidden by a quickly slipping towel around his waist, too.
"Uh-huh, smart move,” you admire Hawks in both the professional and personal sense, “So I've earned that distinct honor, have I?"
"Oh, you? You're gonna get more from me than basic Pro-Hero tricks, lovedove." Hawks kneed off the bed to come around to your open swath of blankets, “You have somethin’ of mine that no one else on this earth has...”
You open the covers dressed only in a waiting smile, having shucked the towel off in your settling in, allowing Hawks to take his time joining you into your makeshift nest. Soon he’s ditched his towel as well, favoring the covers.
You’ve laid like this before, with him propping an arm above you, and your joint expressions glazed over while soaking in the sight of each other…
…but like a warning memory flashed before his eyes unseen, Hawks paused; he’s brushing your cheek with utter fondness, yet his smile drops from his face. Like he did before he left town on that mission over a long week ago.
Naturally, you picked up on it. You always did.
"Uh-oh." you coo lightly, "Where'd you go, ‘Number Two’?"
He couldn't say right away, but his brow furrows at being caught. His hand pets firmly along your jaw to ground himself. Careful, reverent, his roughened fingers brush along your face’s comforting fullness, studying you - in no other words- adoringly.
"Nowhere pleasant. Not like here."
"Then come back here." you whisper and lean up to catch a kiss.
You kiss a few times in quick succession, Hawks sighing into each one heavily; for the first time, feeling at home in who knows how long.
“I just love it here,” Hawks whispers to you in such close proximity, “Wish I could be here more often. Was hoping this ‘villain boom’ woulda died down by now… work myself out of a job, be able to spend more nights like this…”
Cupping his face and guiding his forehead to yours, you offer a word up to him softly: to will away the furrowed lines hardening his face.
He’s far more serene in private than he is out in the public eye. ‘Hawks’ can act devil-may-care as a comforting, assuring tool in interviews as it boosts his ratings- but you hope for real peace for ‘Keigo’ when he can go home at night.
"Y'know you don't need to be 'big bad Pro-Hero' here. I know I joke all the time, but.. You are Keigo to me, now-- not the famed ‘Hawks’, not the Winged Hero, or some fanciful title the people carry on about in the streets."
Hawks gave pause, sinking into your touch.
"Those names, it’s part of you, yeah- but you know holding your own with a blade in each hand isn't what deems you perfect in my eyes. If I’m honest, your realness does. Your openness does. The care you give me? Everytime I ask, and you answer me? The aches you’ve told me about that no one else hears, because they aren’t the prettiest…”
Hawks’ gold chain around his catches your attention. Well, his now- but it was originally yours.
It’s a small token you’d given him after your first accidental late night sleepover together, because he loved how thin and subtle it was, shining on your jewelry tree. Loves shiny things: just like the pretty bird you are, you’d teased him- but it was a darling reaction from him. So you gifted it away, without a second thought.
It’s those moments that you catalog as reasons to fall for this boy again and again- even months after you know you know he’s got you locked in.
“The imperfectness: it’s untouched– and it’s the most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen, when you let me in. When you be yourself.”
His pretty eyes soften, hedging back ever so much in surprise. Crimson feathers plum behind him in interest.
“It’s heavy, isn’t it,” you look up to the top of his wings unfurling above you, reaching high from the space between his shoulder blades where they stem from; where you hold him tenderly. “I can see that.”
By the look of emotion growing in his eyes, you know you're the only one who sees how heavily life can weigh on him.
“And I know- I know someday,” light tints your voice, trying to offer the same treatment he gives you, “you’ll believe me when I say I will never once slight you for things you choose to share to me- even if they’re out of my depth. Even if you think it's too much for me. You can be anything you want to be with me, tell me anything. This... is what I'll be here for. No sugar-coating. No pity. I’m just here, Keigo."
And if his smitten heart wasn't mush before, it is now.
Hawks's voice sinks like gravel, "How the hell do you hit the nail on the head, dove…"
"I try- though I do try to save my best lines for you~" you added a hint of playfulness.
He kisses your smug look away, right on the nose.
Hawks’ wings cast a shadow over you as they flare up more when he leans.
"That’s why they pay you the big bucks, isn’t it… You're incredible, lovedove."
"So are you."
With a released hum, Hawks grumbles a little, sinking his head into the pillow beside you, sliding down in the covers to drape a heavy arm over your waist. Some heat has died down from his body -but you feel the tone has shifted past a hot pre-shower makeout to something way more intimate.
Watching him lie here, content on his stomach with his wings at their fullest all the way outstretched, you respect this as a gorgeous, vulnerable state.
"I don't– wanna sound crass about this..." Hawks mumbles half into his arm.
You look over at the fire over his shoulder. Reining in a snide remark about the definition of the word,
"Mm, well I am naked in bed with you, having stripped the second you offered to in my closet- into which I fell almost flat on my ass getting in, by the way–the opposite of grace and charm befitting a lady fair as humanly possible. So if you're worried about decorum? You really don't have to hold your tongue with me, Kei."
Hawks laughs with that bright, shallow sound again that shows his full smile.
"Well! Truth it is, then."
Hawks freed his chest with some honesty.
"..I've.. I’ve been dreaming about waking up next to you like this since before I made that stupid race bet. It's– kinda what gets me up in the morning."
You balk at the confession. The calendar in your head backtracks that first shopping trip: more than three months ago. He’s spent dozens of nights in your bed since then, and never once made a move like this.
Three months of waiting out a fantasy to become reality- and now he finally has it fulfilled: nestled beneath him in ivory sheets, stripped of the dress that brought you into his arms in the first place, and still hesitates. You couldn’t believe it.
"Are you serious??"
"Yes?” Hawks answers, almost pained.
"Oh my God!!" you cry out at the ceiling before tucking yourself in your blankets and turning to him fully, "You have the restraint of a eunuch, Kei!"
He swipes a palm down his face.
"Don't get religious on me. Nothing pure about having a hard-on everytime you so much as fix your hair up with a fuckin’ pen. Forget it when you use one of my feathers."
You giggle wildly again. This does little to spare his sheepish embarassent and hides his face with a retracted wing.
"It's not funny, birdie..." the wing speaks.
"No- no, I guess it's not," you try audibly straightening up, running the backs of a few fingers to pet the feathers offered to you. "So– you were saying, about being horny and obsessed with me when you come around? ...Why pump the breaks now, hun?"
"Because-” Hawks’ wings drops ever so much to reveal at least part of his face. “-it's not just 'urges'. I've felt... strongly about you for a while. I know I told you as much back in that dressing room, but that was, like, barely scratching the surface. I've not missed someone like I've missed you."
His heartstrings shine in his eyes, like Hawks is hoping you'll notice his effort.
"I've lived long enough and, yeah, maybe flown around the block enough, too.. But it’s made me know what I really want. And for me... It's not just a want. I meant everything I said earlier.”
His shyness leaving him, Hawks finally returns his arm and outstretched wing over you again:
“I wanted to be the one for you. I loved you then,” Hawks tenderly confesses. “I just didn't know how to put it. Had to keep up all those damn appearances and walls up. Lie that I was joking to cover my ass, n’ regretted it ever since."
You soften because you know that fact must be hard for him to admit.
"And by the time came to come back into town, it’d been so long since I'd seen you, since we last even could talk freely. You’d accomplished so much here and in Mustafu. I… honestly feel kinda shitty that I didn't tell you after so long away… before you were pulled in twenty different directions too, I bet– back when I should have slowed down a damn second to tell you so. I should have, you deserved to know."
"Oh, Keigo..." you loop your arms around his neck loose, brushing his hair back over his ear within reach.
"Sooo, you're not mad?”
"No, I'm not mad."
"Long time I wasn't exactly honest with you,” he presses with apologetic eyes, “I know how you get around all the PDA and stuff.”
You value how much Hawks is trying to be as open with you as he can. You know his limitations and pressures full well that keep him from speaking his mind in the moment as he might like to, and know his affections holding true despite the formalities he’s forced to keep up must have been torture itself.
It shows adorably, on his pouting face, even now.
"That kind of 'dishonesty' is the only one I can live with, hon’. It was worth it in the end anyway, wasn't it?"
Hawks smiles -finally- and pushes up to kiss you chaste on the mouth before melting into your forehead again,
"Every time our paths crossed, baby. even for a second- I ached to get my hands on you any way I could.. but after this last mission, the only thing I wanted was to see you safe and sound, here at home. Nothing more. Just safe. So now- even this- has a bigger weight than ever."
"What do you mean?"
"Being with you, like this..."
Hawks’ hand sweeps down, rubbing long strokes up and down your side. You turn further into him, encouraging the touch.
"I want this,” Hawks utters with soft reverence, “I want you.. but sweetheart, it's not just about a bed anymore. Not for me. It's a connection -an important one- and it goes two ways. I don't want you nervous in any way around me. I want you to be sure. All of this is completely up to you- and I can wait. I will wait, if that's what it takes for you to feel ready."
You cringe at how firm yet desperate he sounds.
See, you’d finally opened up about your hesitations too, about dating heroes in general. It was a funny topic in quirkless circles, as you’d shared with him: widespread assumptions about unfair power dynamics, acclimating to fame by proxy, privacy retention, the like. It made you doubly cautious in your line of work, as you surround yourself with Pro-Heroes on the daily– only to find out one held your heart in a perfectly private place that you were nervous about letting slip and smack you in the face should it go wrong. All irrational fears, truly.
"Dammit, I wish I'd never worded it like that.." you moaned at your past slip. "Keigo, I feel nothing but safe with you. It's--" you flit your gaze around bashfully, "This-- may be something to explore and fumble around a bit with. But it's not because I'm scared, it's because I-- I dunno, I don't want to-..."
He raised a patient brow to you, kind and reassuring.
"... Dissappoint you, I guess?"
With a funny pout, Hawks waits for you to explain.
"I can dole out all the pretty words on a page I like, but things are different when you're right in front of me. Looking at me like this… like I’ve wanted all this time, too,”
You cup his cheek, which he totally sinks into the moment your skin makes contact-
“I get nervous because you're so damn incredible and I want you so fucking bad too… I can't help it either."
Hawks chuckles, relieved in his shoulders as your hungry tone shimmers over your words.
Looking up at him just as tenderly as you touched, you trail a hand along his shoulder, down to his arm. There’s tiny, light freckles there, if you look hard enough.
"Self-conscious is a better way to put it,” you decide, “You've never given me a reason to think you'd hurt me, never... But it's just a fact; you've lived and operated in a different world than I have, Kei. I hope to not be all flustered and blushing through the newness, but I might, still. I know your heart has the best intentions, but I couldn't help imagining you making– comparisons.”
“Comparisons?-”
You swallow your nerves and insecurity rarely voiced to others.
“Just… want to be enough for you. For what you need me to be- if you even wanted that with me."
In favor of fixing his necklace’s clasp, you settled. Inside you knew this wasn't a fair stereotype for heroes, given all he'd shared so intimately about what the life was really like, and he confirmed this suspicion with his displeased reaction.
"You think because I’m out front and center that I should be with someone else.”
You toss the thought away, but answer him in the way you might have months ago, “Maybe?”
“And you think you're lesser because you don't have ‘experience’- because if you're unprepared, you're not of value? That I wouldn’t still want you that way?”
Heat creeps up from your neck, “I- I mean…”
Hawks further stops your preening of him, and holds your hand instead-
“--And because no one's fucked you right in the past means youre unworthy to have it now?”
You dropped your head back immediately in regret and looked off. "Ok crass, but sure."
"Baby, look at me."
At his word, you level out and meet his gaze again. He cups your face again more gently.
"We're going to make another promise to each other, here and now, okay? Gotta make one thing crystal clear, if nothing else."
You nod to agree.
"One, no more bullshit mind reading. I've had enough of that."
A snort leaves you and he smirks to match.
"I mean it! It won't do either of us any good. If you -or I- need to talk, we talk. You said you were here to support me, and you always have been."
Hawks smooths out his hand to grace your collarbone- meant to soothe.
"But that means you need to let me be the same for you. I would never, ever judge you either. You are important to me- as an equal. In so many ways. You have my word on that. Deal?"
"Deal." you agree.
"And for two," the kind tone flips to annoyed, "I’ll rid that 'blushing bride' streak out of your head about this amazing body of yours myself... And I'm willing to use any means necessary. I am a Pro-Hero with training and coercion strategies under my belt. With a problem staring me in the face, I’ll fight it until it’s done- and I'm patient."
You quirked your lip while trying to maintain the sensitive conversation.
"Uh-oh. That sounds serious."
"It will be if you make my job difficult, sweet thing." His eyes jump down to your increasing blush. “Which is why -by the way– it's laughable that you think I'd ever have had time for any chasing tail. Have ya met me? I'd never hear the end of it from my agent!”
That’s funny, but– fair. Another unfair assumption on your part, but Hawks’ easygoing attitude has you bursting into a fit at how easy it is for him to make you laugh.
You really do adore him, and if you can trust him to protect you against a world full of villains, you could give him grace in the love department too.
"Now I'm going to ask you something…”
Hawks turns to an amorous side of him: where you expected him to land once your head hit the pillow…
“and you're going to answer me honestly…"
"Yes, sir?"
Hawks' top rung of feathers ebb, enough to buffer his telltale control. Seems he’s just as susceptible to a sultry title as you are...
"See, that shit?” Hawks pipes up, “That's what’s made the last three months a living hell!"
"What, being polite?" you tease your leg to nudge against his from where you’re pinned beneath him. "I thought you liked that I was a nice girl..."
Lowly, Hawks growls an appreciative moan. He rubs the pads of his fingers along your shoulder all too sensually with just enough pressure to prove his point.
"I do, lovedove. But now, you're my nice girl. Can’t keep you from being yourself… but it's going to be twice as hard not to show everyone who so much as looks at you just how much you're mine."
Behind a demure smile, your heart pounds at this possessive Hawks. Quick instincts targeting prey cross over into the pleasure realm it seems, too.
"My question is..." Hawks leans in shifting lower to nose your hair aside– punctuating his options with a kiss at each stop along your cheek:
"How would you like me to warm you up tonight, lovely? Do you want my hands... my mouth... or something else?"
STARS ABOVE, SOMETHING ELSE YES.
Rather than make the impossible decision, you shudder out a funny quip,
"--Dealer's choice?"
Hawks chuffs against your neck, "That's not an answer, beautiful..."
But how can you answer when he’s so close and siphoning all thoughts from you? All you can do is keen at the sensations on your neck and curl up into him with leisurely hands around his back scratching enticing circles. Kissing gentle suckles at your neck- plus a bite here and there- Hawks sweeps back your waves before he whispers low again,
"Tell me how far you wanna go with this. Can you do that for me?"
"Mhm.." you hum wordlessly. Hawks’ hand presses to the space above your breast.
"Heart's racing again. Does this feel ok?"
You hum back, drawn out and comfortable.
"How ‘bout this?" He dips and now cups a breast in a hand and massages carefully while peppering your neck and chest with the same hot kisses.
A longer moan still.
"There you go. Keep talking to me. Tell me what feels good; you can do it."
There’s nothing you want more than him– nothing in the world.
"You have me. You have all of me," Hawks’ hips curl into the bed in a grind below you getting high off the accidental confessions you let loose.
"I want..." you swallow for control, "... To-- kiss- hah."
His eyes flicker to your face from his perch atop you, seeing you blissed out, lolled to the side: smirking at his success already.
"Yeah?" Hawks drifted a little lower, cooing up at you between wet open-mouthed presses. "Where do you want me to kiss you?"
"No, I-" your voice pitched up higher and he stops, smoothing out his strokes and eyes you as you rouse enough to face him.
From his hand's touch, he surely feels your pulse throb and hangs on your words just as he did before, but you want to take the pressure off of him.
Just for a little while. He deserves it. He won the bet, after all.
"I wanna kiss you."
Hawks bridges over you to meet your eager arms to pull you in for a hungry kiss. Together, you get an addictive taste of each other over and over, meeting each one with equal passion and excited fervor.
In between heavy breaths, you push your racing heart forward towards his next dousing of affection.
" I wanna.."
"Wanna what?" Hawks slurs like he’s drunk. Enamored, but rutting into the bed again impatiently.
"Wanna kiss you-- fuckin' everywhere." you sigh, zeroed in on his throat’s bobbing- adorned with your gift of gold there.
Pleased at your growing excitement, he chimes back, "Be my guest~"
Hawks scoops you up and flips you so you are positioned laying on top. Pleased at the shift, you smile charming as ever and sit up to adjust, putting yourself on full display for him. It’s proof that it was never the dress specifically that made you appealing to him: but the model underneath.
His hands rove over your thighs and hips, getting a good look at you in the firelight, but settle on your angelic face in the end, as usual.
"I kinda like you up there~!"
"Kinda like it, too,” you wriggle yourself with a refreshing rake to your hair's part.
With Hawks's hands on you, you felt truly as powerful and enticing as he made you out to be-- if his gaze wasn't indicative enough.
"Wish you could see yourself right now… You're damn gorgeous."
"And all yours-" you lean down in perfect confidence, settling on his chest and brushing his hair out of your way as well. "May I?"
"Please." He tease a brow for a 'go ahead'.
Oh was he in for it.
The moment you latch on, you suck and mark at his neck like a pro, pulling a groan from his sweet spot already. How the hell did you find it so fast? You're just that good.
You caress his chest with the hand not crucial for balance, fingers beginning to memorize every soft-lipped jump in the skin where a faint scar splits it. It’s the tender attention he deserves that you know from his offhand comments that he does not and has not received in the years spent under the Commissions’ eye.
Taking your time and attention, you lavish on worshipful kisses across the column of Hawks’ throat and have to flip your hair again when you switch sides. Hawks seems to enjoy its drape like a curtain across his field of vision in the few moments where his eyes flutter open. It's a reverse of what his wings do for you; he's enamored by the sight.
"Ohhhh, that's perfect. Oh, you're so perfect- fuck, you're good at thi--S-MMMMM."
Hawks cut off his trill when you sucked another equally tender spot and hum along with him. Lost in the moment yourself, you roll your hips to meet him; how he trembles under you and against the cock twitching to life- hot against your bare skin.
You’re just about to move away from a high point of his neck, when his hand comes up to fist in your hair and hold you in place–
"Harder."
"Hm-what?"
"Bite me--Harder, baby, please."
At the hoarse request, your eyes flash wide open… but who the hell are you to refuse?
So you give him a little nonsensical melody, sung just soft like so along your kisses’ trail, then tease his throat with your teeth before nipping him gentle enough in play. But it’s enough of a shock to make him groan–
"FFFFuck, YES."
You chuckle low, followed by a little hushing finger on his lips.
"Keigo, baby… You don't want my neighbors and half the joint to give my shit about the Winged Hero’s volume, do you?"
"I don't fucking care." Hawks rasps, "Let em hear what you're doin’ to me- let ‘em hear what they can't fuckin’ have."
His lovesickness makes you proud in the most selfish way, and reward him by blowing on the hot skin rising and falling with breath as you kiss along each pec next, lightly singing bits and pieces of no song in particular. For as much as this boy has made your heart sing just by looking your way, you try to give him a piece of that back. Just wordlessly praising him along every scar and response to the sounds he’d make; in want, plead, hunger for more.
Slow torture.
Shockingly- and much sooner than you expected from his control so far- Hawks had enough.
His eyes flash open in molten gold. He’s capturing you with strength you’ve so far only witnessed on tv and is pulling you into his lap in full force. Sitting with legs astride him, you gasp at the heat of him again- even more at how desperately your source of need literally weeps for him.
Blindly Hawks reaches for himself and prods you with some gently-paced rocks up and down, kissing you back and with renewed vigor as your breaths got faster.
"Ready for this?"
You nod and cast every ounce of trust to him with a grounding breath, taken with his eyes for about the millionth time tonight– strong jaw and blonde whisps crafting his face.
"Y’gonna hold on, pretty girl?" Hawks scoops under your shoulder blades, a more mischievous smile gracing his kissed-bruised countenance.
"I got you," you echo. "Your turn to tell me just what you want, huh?"
"Got all I want right here."
And you believe that softness from him: private and earnest and shared as gently as a secret.
It brings a barely audible word of love from the pit of you. Hawks breathes it back into your waiting lips before sealing his mouth to yours.
Then, gloriously slow, he pushes up and moans sinfully into your mouth, low and slow. You made the sweetest sounds in complete rapture once he settles in -full in the best way- slick and deliciously joined.
Hawks curses against your chest, breathing heavily.
"Mmmmm tell me when–I can move... Y’you say when-”
"Ohmygod yes,move…"
No more teasing needed.
Hawks hoists you up and forward suddenly, now bent on his heels. One arm is wound tight around your waist, and the other clutches you to his chest by your warm nape. You release the breath and pull tight onto his shoulders, moaning loud for you. Then, Hawks just went to town: fucking up into you, deep, steady, and hard.
"Oh ssshit, babe, you're so good~~" you praise light and high in your voice, rocking your hips in time, in awe without even the slightest shock of his strength.
Pressing down against him nudges your own sweet spot every time– a point not lost on your dear Keigo.
You rock with him eagerly, but quickly reach the point of lightheadedness he had when you’d kissed all along his chest… the same shocking sensations flutter through you when he starts to make love to each breast lavishly. All those sensations of hard nips and soft tracing were quickly building up and up and up.
“Fuck,Keigo– I, ah… AAH!--”
“That’s it, lovedove– say my name. Say my name- I’m gonna have you cummin’ for me, love.”
Kissing praises into his neck, you become entranced by the sounds of your pats of joining, the grunts of Hawks fighting against his moans in between, the reactive bats of those fierce wings and his strong hand petting through your hair. By its steady grip, you can tell he’s possessively keeping you close while he ruts into you. In no time, it was his turn to babble nonsense while deeply buried in you.
"Sweet baby... Fuck, that feels so good-- ughhhh do thatagain, squeezin’ me... Fuck, you could kiss me anywhere n’ I wouldn’t care... Ahhh just wanna feelyou..."
Your insides swell and sigh at his happy cries... and you can’t bear to refuse him.
So you choose something small~ to test how much your touch truly affects him. You opt for a small, breathy peck at the corner of his eye, where his lashline is fanned out in a darling beauty mark on him by nature’s design. It works: whether it’s a teasing kiss on the neck or a peck on the tenderest skin on his face, you’re making him drive extra punches in his thrusts.
His name is your steady prayer in this treasured, rare time with him,
“You waited a'long time for this haven't you, pretty bird... Missing me so much, loving me from afar, and I didn't even know it yet…"
Hawks chuckles a savory growl, "Missed me too, didya. You missed me? This what you wanted? Feels good, huh?"
"Hell, I couldn't even have imagined it would feel this good, -near- this good-- gods, you're so strong.. and safe- fuck, I'm so safe, and all yours. All yours."
Hawks' pants pick up, almost feral again--
"Say that again."
“I’m– yours?”
“Again.”
Pushing back on his shoulders, you find balance framing his face and pushing his hair back to study his glazed over eyes-- the ones staring right through you with his love’s fire consuming him from the inside out.
Purely on instinct, you tug Hawks’ hair back to whisper against the sensitive skin under his ear,
"I'm yours, Keigo Takami."
Sealing your declaration with a hot mix of tongues, Hawks brokenly cries out, squeezing you tight and pushing you down so hard you felt the stars shoot through you in a blazing hot wake. The burning heat makes you gasp at the fullness now warming you through. Too quick to even ask where you’d have preferred he cum in you, you wouldn’t have honestly had it any other way,
…telling him you were his is what did him in, and you take a special stroke of pride knowing your claim on his heart.
After his strangled grunts give way to deeper breaths, Hawks collapses to the side, sending you in a barrel roll along with him extending his legs under you- still submerged in you. His fingers trail along your back leisurely while he catches his breath, which made for such a comforting cool down.
Breathing normally and opening your eyes again, you notice the fire was still alive in your fireplace unit, but barely- as if the heat you were generating was snuffing out the actual flames. In reality, the timer was just going out.
"Oh wow~" you sigh, "Look at that."
"Yeah- wow~" Hawks sighs.
Your lashes tickle from your pillow -his chest- and remind him, "I was looking at the hearth, sweet boy."
Beyond the heartbeat making music under your ear, you hear only a small rustle above you, then watch a singular feather make another bullseye, and the light roars back to fullness.
"oOo…” It’s shameless how ditzy you feel, watching him not miss a beat, even in his afterglow.
Hawks chuckles, back to stroking you.
"So.. ‘terms fulfilled’, love?"
"Mhmmm. To the letter-" you tease and slowly manage to rise up enough to cross your arms across his chest as a pillow for yourself so you could look at him. Naturally, a smile settles onto your face at the sight, "How bout you; winnings ‘sufficiently provided’?"
Hawks pillows an arm under his head and caresses your face with the other.
"This winner didn't last near as long as he intended to… with all your ‘fulfillment’, little minx."
"I think it was worth it. I got you really worked up- which I imagine, is a hard feat given your occupation,” you fall into his touch. “I'm pretty proud."
Hawks praises you with a sexy little smile, "You should be~"
With his sparkling eyes drooping shut for a moment, you press a little kiss above Hawks' prominent winged eye once again. Upon opening, you found him lazily watching you with a content smile.
"What's that look for?" you ask.
"Just kicking myself,” Hawks holds no sweet-talking twang in his voice now, “Why didn't I cut my rascal act sooner?"
You dismiss his fear in a little roll of your eyes.
"Don't do that. It was meant to be like this. Like you said- no need to rush." Another small kiss is granted on his cheek.
"C'mere," Hawks coaxes you up and gifts you a soothing kiss on the lips. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Your brain still needed catching up, because your muscles seem very slow to move. Shifting off of him, you felt your 'activities' leak its mess down your legs and you shut them immediately, flopping back embarrassed. Hawks chuckles warmly, grabbing one of those abandoned towels and taps your knee to open. The prodding renders you more openly shy now, but Hawks only gave a sweet, consoling brow back.
"C'mon, why so shy? Open up." He prompts your knees to open, and wipes you down with a caring touch.
Even with his task set on purely cleaning your skin, you lay back and stretch your arms just watching him work. Slowing his movements, Hawks meets you eyes again when he makes an unintended jolt along your clit, giving you an appreciative once over, shaking his head with gentle eyes.
“And don’t you think I forgot about you, baby~” he whispers like the rascal he claims to have put behind him: “We’ve got quite the night ahead of us. Can’t be overwhelming you too much too soon.”
You giggle, pulling him down to hide in his shoulder again. Pleased enough at his sense of peace as he breathes, you melt more at the reminder:
"You're gorgeous, you know. Fancy dress or not."
A closed-lipped smile is all you can manage in your exertion.
"Wish I could see it through your eyes. All I see hangin’ over there is a sure fire way to get me laid."
Hawks’ laugh is near delirious- carefree.
"I’ll make you see. Just give me a little time. I'm patient."
Hawks offers you a hand and helps you to your feet- only to catch your unsteady legs, leaving you chuckling into his chest, nuzzling playfully when his wings come around to keep you warm in the meantime.
"Sorry ‘bout that…" you gain better footing.
"What, that I fucked you too good?"
"Keigo."
"Crass, sorry,” Hawks pouts.
"You are not that sorry."
And he agrees, full cheek returned, "Nah."
When he passes your still partially open closet where you’d tossed the dress back to hang up for dry cleaning, Hawks stops your walk altogether in favor of holding you from behind– just like he did in the dressing room.
“And you know that’s not the only thing to get me to take you to bed, lovedove,” he makes the promise by your mess of hair, “Try on anything else in there for me– and all you need to do is ask.”
getting a note on a super old post
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