#HAWKS FLUFF

[kleftiko]

❦ FAMILY MEN

ft. aizawa, hawks, bakugo, dabi

HAIKYUU VERSION | BLACK CLOVER VERSION

—aizawa

your daughter looked up at eri as she taught the younger girl how to style hair clips and accessories. your daughter was just over a year old, curious about things but not good with coordination, so eri enjoyed being the big sister and teaching her all about fashion. and who was the model for her cosmetology lessons? none other than your husband, shota. there was nothing his girls couldn’t get away with, so he sat patiently as he graded work on the floor as they tugged and pulled on his black locks. every once in a while there was a wince or grimace on his face because they weren’t that gentle, but he didn’t say anything. you silently laughed watching them from across the room, thinking that you couldn’t have chosen a better man.

—hawks

the habitual babbling of your little boy rang through the kitchen. you looked up at the clock because you knew your boyfriend would be coming home around this time. it seemed your son was starting to get a sense of time by figuring out when his dad came back everyday. and just as planned, the front door flew open, and a rush of red flew in front of you, straight to the highchair as keigo lifted your son. the air was instantly filled with giggles and kisses as the hero greeted his pride and joy. for a minute you were an afterthought, going back to your work until he gave you a few sweet kisses in greeting, son still in his arms.

“can we have a girl next?” he asked and you smiled at him sarcastically.

“can i have a ring?”

—bakugo

you heard him shouting from the other room.

“don’t put that in your mouth! give me that!”

your daughter babbled in the same tone right back at him. despite not knowing how to speak yet, she gave her dad the exact same amount of attitude that he dished out. you were curious and apprehensive to see when she grew up.

“don’t talk to me that way!”

“katsuki!” you called. “keep it down.”

your husband emerged from the room, holding a freshly changed daughter on his hip who was muching happily on a clean diaper.

“she started it.” he grumbled and you rolled your eyes at his beef with an eight month old. “anyway, i—ow, shit!”

your daughter had bit his shoulder, obviously preferring her dad over the diaper.

—dabi

“i’m home!” you called but got no reply. you kicked off your shoes and went searching for your boys, only to find them in your bedroom. both were napping on the bed, dabi curled his body around his son as if to protect him from the world. your little boy had one hand grasping his dad’s shirt tightly, the other grabbing at dabi’s mouth, some fingers having pulled his lip down a bit. your heart melted at the sight, and you immediately sighed. your instinct was to curl up with them and hold them, but you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb them so you just watched fondly for a couple minutes before dabi’s eyes naturally fluttered open. he blinked a bit before noticing you.

“if he doesn’t get his hand out of my mouth i’m burning him.”

“toya, no.”

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Cozy and Safe | Hawks x Reader Fluff ❤️

Cozy and Safe | Hawks x Reader 💕

It's strange for Keigo to comprehend how different his life is now. How good.

He's lost his wings. But he's gained an actual life.

Being quirkless is not the end of the world.

You've taught him that over the past two years.

He's still getting acclimated to enjoying things, to feeling deserving of all of it. But his girlfriend helps him.

Turns out, Keigo likes being cozy. He likes thick socks and sweaters and anything with a firm cable-knit texture. He likes to be wrapped up in plush, patterned blankets from Costco. He has a favorite type of tea, now. And a preferred mug in the cupboard (it's the blue glazed one that you made for him during a cheap pottery class).

Keigo loves doing laundry - a task that he was never allowed to do for himself when he was a hero. There's something so precious about cleaning his own clothes. He finds it to be a meditative process - folding away clean clothes in his drawer makes him think of his childhood. Growing up, he rarely had anything clean to wear when he lived with his parents. And then when he was training at the Commission he was always in a uniform.

Now, Keigo has a seemingly endless collection of graphic tees and thick, wooly sweaters. He can wear whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Sometimes the power of choice is overwhelming, and he'll need to call in back up (you) to help him decide.

Keigo lets his body get softer. It's something you and his therapist help him figure out. He stops forcing himself to follow such a militant workout schedule. Instead, he finds new ways to enjoy movement. He joins an intramural basketball league. He sucks, but the guys are friendly and fun. He gets to just be Keigo the teammate, not Keigo the hero. He starts to enjoy taking long walks around the park - nowhere to fly to, nowhere to be. For once, he can breathe. He starts to loose all of his intense muscle, his abs. He feels self-concious about it. He's always been underweight - wiry and malnourished.

But now he eats the good food that you cook and he's learning how to use the stove and everything is just so delicious and lovely and he can't bear to keep the strict diet of his old life.

At night you strip him down and kiss every inch of his softer belly, cheeks that are no longer hollow. He lets you smooth your fingertips across his scars, across the points in his back that once anchored wings. He lets you love him, taking all that you can give. He starts to get more greedy with your touches, more open. He'll ask for what he wants and needs, and relishes all that you share with him. Making love to Keigo is gentle and slow - he learns that sex is so much more than he was taught. He didn't realize that it can be such a pure expression of love for another person. And once he learns...well, it becomes his favorite way to express his feelings for you.

Keigo grows a little more with each passing day - his world expanding far past the hero rankings and villain fights.

He learns how to adapt, and each day you help him explore sides of himself he didn't know could exist. He grows more comfortable in his skin, less afraid of the world around him. He makes civilian friends who like his jokes and invite the two of you to little rooftop dinner parties in the city. He takes up new hobbies - gardening. Hiking. He surrounds himself with things that grow.

Loving Keigo is easy, and he doesn't need wings to make your heart take flight.

End.

[vividly-vermillion]

Hawks was trying his best not to fall in love because everyone loves Hawks but would they love Keigo? Flawed, tired, boring?

Meanwhile you ignore that he's the hero. He greets you with Keigo on your first date. You never call him Hawks. You don't even get your phone out once - Not to text, not to take pictures of / with him.

You made sure the date is somewhere far away from people so he wouldn't get recognized... He almost thought you were embarrassed of him with the way you tried to make sure that no one notices him. Of course you know who he is, but you don't reduce him to just that.

You fell in love with Keigo over the late night talks, the thoughtful little gifts and his quiet kindness - The kind that doesn't ask to be seen. You fell in love with the way he listens more than he speaks when it's just the two of you and how he remembers the tiniest details. He brings them up weeks later as if they mattered, because to him they do.

However, he always waits for the other shoe to drop. For you to slip up and call him Hawks, to pull your phone out and start questioning him about what it's like to fly, to fight alongside Endeavor or what it was like amongst the League of Villains. But it never comes. Instead you ask him what books he reads, what dreams he gave up, which meals remind him of home...

And little by little, Keigo starts to believe that maybe he can be loved. Not because he is Pro Hero Hawks but because he is Keigo, and that is more than enough for you.

[ohlawdthevoices]

Hey! If you don’t mind, could you do hawks with a reader who has haphephobia? (Fear of touch)

Like, reader gets visibly uncomfortable if someone is within one foot of them, but is less uncomfortable if they know the person. Willing to let Hawks for example hold onto their sleeve instead of holding hands and such, and are at the point where they will allow a 30 second hug only if Hawks stands absolutely still hehe

i get it if you don’t want to write this, but anywho, thank you!

heyaaa thank you so much for your request !! i tried to look it up and everything (educated queen ik) and im sorry if its not super accurate but i hope you enjoy it anyway :3

Close enough !! | Hawks x reader

tags : gn!reader, reader has haphephobia, fluff n comfort :)

Hawks noticed it the first time he leaned in to whisper something—something dumb, probably about how the villain they were tracking smelled like a wet sock—and you flinched.

It wasn’t huge or dramatic, but he caught it.

The way your shoulders tensed, how you leaned back just slightly, like your body was preparing for impact.

He didn’t call it out, just filed it away with that sharp, unbothered gaze of his.

Next time, he kept his hands in his pockets, stood just a little farther than usual, and cracked jokes like always—but with a new softness in the space between his words.

Eventually, on a quiet rooftop at night, he asked. “Hey, do you… not like being touched?”

You stiffened, but nodded. “It’s not that I don’t like it. I just… can’t. Not easily.”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t shift uncomfortably. Just said, “Okay,” like you’d told him the sky was blue.

After that, he made a point to show he’d listened—offering quality time instead of touch, leaning against walls instead of inching close, giving you space and never commenting on it.

And when, eventually, you reached out and let him hold onto the edge of your sleeve—just two fingers, barely a grip—he looked down at it like you’d handed him a damn treasure.

“Guess I’m movin’ up in the ranks,” he said, voice low, almost reverent,trying (and failing) to act nonchalant.

Another day, you heard the sound of wings folding back behind you, the soft rustle of feathers and the faint shift in the air.

Hawks always landed quietly, even when he wasn’t trying to sneak up on you. You guessed it was a pro hero thing. Or maybe just a him thing.

“Hey sweets,” he said gently, voice casual but warm. He stood about two feet away—close enough to talk, far enough not to panic you. He knew the rules by now. You gave him a small nod, shoulders still tight. “Hey.”

He didn’t move closer. Didn’t rush. He never did, not with you. It was weird, really—how someone so fast could be so patient. “Rough day?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Too many people. Too many close calls. One guy bumped into me at the train station, and I nearly threw my bag at him.”

He chuckled, but his eyes stayed soft. “Want me to go beat him up?” You almost smiled. “Tempting.” Then, silence. Not awkward, but thoughtful. His fingers twitched at his side, and you saw it—he wanted to reach for you. Not to grab, never to force. Just to offer.

So you made the move instead, slow and deliberate. You reached forward, letting your sleeve brush against his hand. He caught the fabric gently, looping his fingers through it like it was made of glass. It wasn’t hand-holding, not really. But it was something. And with Hawks, something was always enough. “I, uh…” you hesitated. “I can uhm..we can hug- if you stay still-”

He blinked. Then grinned. “I promise I’ll turn into a statue.” You stepped in—slow, careful, like wading into water that might be too cold.

His arms folded around you, loose, unmoving, steady. True to his word. Your cheek pressed lightly against his chest, his heartbeat picking up beneath the layers of his jacket. It was warm. Comforting. Not overwhelming. After a few seconds, you exhaled. Twenty-nine. Thirty.

You pulled back, and he let you go without hesitation. “Thanks,” he mumbled smiling, his wings fluffing slightly.

[stargirlygirl]

the bird in me

hawks x fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — bird mating drabbles, throwing up, you're a barista, fluff, sexual implications at the end, 3.5k words

a/n: this has to be one of my favourite works so far

regurgitation

it’s bad. every time he sees you, he can feel the churning in his stomach. something as simple as a smile or wave is enough to have his fist pressed to his lips, loudly clearing his suddenly tight throat.

every time you talk, he’s trying hard not to make a fool of himself (and failing miserably). he’s constantly ahem-ing or coughing, anything to push the rising bile back down his oesophagus.

he wills himself to be a man, to take the acidic burn with pride because he’s fortunate enough to be acknowledged by such a beautiful and intelligent girl. but by the five-minute mark, he’s excusing himself to the bathroom and throwing up this morning’s breakfast.

you thought he was just shy at first, but as it continues to happen, you begin to think he doesn’t like you.

the bell chimes as the café door swings shut. you gaze over the coffee machine, spotting those bright red feathers against the gloom of the night.

you take a deep breath in, rolling your eyes as you drawl, “we closed ten minutes ago, mr hawks.” a nervous laugh, your interest is piqued.

“i know, dove, but i wanted to see you,” he says confidently, only to clear his throat right afterwards.

your brow furrows, and you say more bluntly than intended, “well, i don’t know. you’re always trying to run away from me. your usual?”

“yes please,” he says, waltzing over to you. he rests his weight against the bench, watching you brew his double-shot cappuccino. ahem. he continues. “and i’m not trying to run away from you. never have—”

“doesn’t seem that way to me,” you cut him off. he coughs ostentatiously into his elbow, his face heating up from the sheer strength it’s taking to not throw up right now. he can’t help it!

you continue as you pour the thick foam into the takeaway cup, “you’ve only got few minutes for me before you’re dashing off. i mean i know you’re busy, but do you not have any better excuses? like, for a pro hero, you sure are shit at lying.” you’re glaring holes into the creamy milk as you shake chocolate powder on top of it.

you mumble, “if you don’t like me you can just say so.” the snap of the lid on the little paper cup echoes through the empty café. hawks hears his heart crack a little at your words. not like you? how could he not like you?! wasn’t it obvious—ahem!

he gasps, “bathroom?” you roll your eyes.

“at the back. hey!” your arms are raised as you glare after him, watching as he rushes to the bathroom.

you whisper-yell to yourself, “what the fuck?!” you slide his hot coffee to the edge of the bench and huff, fed up with his perplexing behaviour. if the night wasn’t so still, and the streets surrounding your tiny café so quiet, you wouldn’t have heard him violently throwing up in the men’s bathroom. but you do.

your eyes widen and then crinkle as you wince, wishing that such disgusting sounds weren’t ricocheting off the walls. you pull the bow of your apron loose and shrug it off, leaving it on a nearby table as you make your way to the bathrooms.

you hear the toilet flush as you body slam the heavy, olive green door open. white lights sting your eyes as you search for any sign of your most loyal customer. you find him resting against an open stall door, eyes closed, lips chapped, and forehead beading with sweat.

“mr hawks?” you say gently. his golden eyes shoot open and find you immediately. he smiles incredulously, and his voice is thick as he rasps, “this is the men’s ro—”

“shut the fuck up. are you okay?” you shift closer to him, but he moves back, calves hitting the toilet seat. you stop in your tracks, caging him in the small stall. his eyes dart to the side as he weighs up how to get out of the corner he’s backed himself into.

seeing his nervousness, you sigh. you turn and begin to walk out of the bathroom. he catches your elbow by the sinks and pulls you into his chest. you yelp as you hit his solid frame, utterly bewildered. his large hands gently squeeze your upper arms as you tilt your head up, gazing at him.

you mutter, “what is it?” he shakes his head, eyes dropping and unintentionally resting on your collarbone peeking out of your uniform. great, the pro hero thinks. that familiar sensation is reignited at the base of his throat.

he chokes out, “i-just give me a minute.” he let’s go of your arms and wanders back into the stall, shutting the door and bolting it this time. you groan, wrapping your arms around yourself as you listen to him throw up again, his chunky symphony amplified by these fuck ass tiles.

interjecting the flush of the toilet is the stall door slamming open. out strolls a lazily grinning hawks. he chuckles, “don’t tell me you have to clean in here.”

you sigh, “of course i do.”

he stops in front of you and shrugs, “then give me the mop and bucket and i’ll take care of it, alright?”

you shake your head, muttering, “look don’t worry about that. are you okay? what’s going on? you just threw up like twice. do you have food pois—”

“i feel great, actually. now, about what you were saying earlier,” he reaches out and takes your hands in his awfully clammy ones.

your shoulders slump as you huff, trying to pull your hands back. “hawks—”

“ya know, i really wish you would stop calling me that, dove.” he draws you in close, his body heat seeping through his clothes into you.

you retort, “and i really wish that you would stop interrupting me.” he opens his mouth, sucking in a breath as though he’s about to speak, and then he doesn’t.

the stifling air is quiet for a moment before the pro hero mutters, “sorry.” you shake your head as your mouth draws into a hard line. but you inevitably soften as he jerks away from you, coughing.

quietening down, he rasps, “i really like you, okay? i’m not trying to run away from you. quite the opposite, actually.” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, concerned that you can feel his heart jumping out of his chest. at least his stomach isn’t lurching anymore. he really did need that release.

seconds pass in tense silence as you wait for him to explain. he sighs, “i swear, y/n, i like you.”

“but,” you say, emphasising the ‘t’. he looks away from you, gathering his courage for what he’s about to say.

he breathes out, “don’t laugh, okay?” you nod, about to tear your hair out from the suspense. this man really knows how to dodge questions, you think.

“every time i see you… i wanna throw up.” he mutters that last part at the end as he gazes down at the minute crevices between your bodies.

your eyes widen as you exclaim, “you what?!” he grip tightens on your hands as he shakes his head fervently.

“because-um-it’s a bird thing. i wanna throw up because i like you, okay?” your mouth hangs half-open as you try to register his words.

he brings your hands to his lips and chastely kisses your knuckles. you stare at him in disbelief, stuttering, “i-it’s a bird thing? you-you wanting to throw up every time you see me?”

he nods, “technically, i want to regurgitate every time i see you. the bird part of me wants to prove to you that i’m a good partner.”

that night, you make sure he’s had some food and electrolytes before drinking his cold cappuccino.

preening

ever since you two started dating, it’s become a routine for kei to preen his feathers just before bed, and for you to simply sit across from him on the sofa, reading a book, scrolling on your phone, or watching him.

but tonight as you take up your usual spot on the couch, kei plops down next to you. he gently nudges your arm, catching your attention.

you mumble, “what is it, babe?” as you lock your phone. he kisses from your cheek to your jaw, earning an airy giggle from you.

he mutters into your skin, “will you preen my wings tonight?” your eyes widen as you let out a stuttered breath.

you pull back, saying nervously, “k-kei, honey, you sure? i’ve never preened anything before.” he hums as he slides off the couch and sits on the floor in front of you. he holds up a bottle of oil and you take it from him while explains how to preen his feathers.

you start with the feathers closest to his body and work your way out, from top to bottom. as your fingers work over his feathers, pulling debris from them and realigning the barbs, your bird boy hums.

you drop another piece of tarmac on the coffee table, saying, “you could hide a fucking road in here with how much rubble i’m pulling out right now.” kei chuckles and sighs, feeling you remove yet another remnant of today’s battles.

“are they always this dirty?” you question. your hero nods. it takes longer for you to preen him than if kei were to preen his feathers, but he appreciates your delicate and loving touch.

and the next night, he asks if you can preen his wings again. and soon, your routine has changed to you preening his feathers every night before bed.

gift-giving, scent marking, nesting

the cold winter nights warm and scrawny branches bloom with flowers, signifying that spring has arrived.

it was subtle at first, kei would bring home flowers for you every few days, claiming that his perfect girl deserved to be spoiled. and he claimed the same when he started making the most delicious dinners for you two every night, and when he started gifting you the most luxurious necklaces and shoes and bags you’ve ever owned.

when you woke up this morning, your bed sheets smelt of citrus. so fresh and divine, you sighed and rolled around, cocooning yourself in the quilt to get another whiff of that scent. you liked the smell so much that you got out of bed still wrapped up in the quilt, and dragged it around home with you all day (it’s your day off).

as kei closes the door behind him after another long day, you rush up to him, quilt left lonely. you throw yourself into his awaiting arms, sighing as his zesty scent washes over you. you sigh, melding your body against his as you inhale his musk.

he chuckles softly, “hey, dove. missed me, huh?”

you hum and mumble into his compression shirt, “you smell so good. since when did you smell like citrus though?” pulling back and pointing to the quilt on the sofa, you continue, “i thought you just bought some new laundry detergent or something.”

kei shrugs it off, claiming that he bought a new cologne (lies). but not before he draws you back into his arms and rubs the side of his face and neck all over your face and neck. sighing, you let him off the hook but resolve to keep an eye on him.

rummaging through his duffle bag, he says excitedly, "d'you wanna see what i got you, dove?" you press your lips together, disappointed by kei's spending habits lately. but not for long as he hands you a sealed box of the perfume you've been eying for years (it's vanilla2 by maison tahité for me).

you squeal in delight and thank him profusely, smothering his cheeks and lips and stubble with kisses before skipping off to your room to try your new perfume (kei rocks you gently as you have a cry over how blessed you are to have such an attentive partner).

for the next week, you swear you can hear shuffling in the early hours of the morning. as soon as you lift your head off the pillows though and search the dark room for some kind of movement, everything stills. you usually fall back asleep, but tonight is a bit different.

again, you wake to muffled sounds emanating from somewhere in your apartment. groaning, you bury your head into your pillow, only to rise from it a minute later when you hear a loud thud. roused from your sleepy daze, you get out of bed and caress the door frame for wayyy too long before you eventually find the light switch.

your eyes adjust to the sudden brightness quickly, and everything looks the same as it usually does. but something is missing. or rather, someone.

you step out of your shared bedroom and stare down the hall, seeing a familiar glow curling its fingers beneath one of the doors. as you approach it, you realise that the light is coming from kei’s office.

but it’s not just the light that is coming from his office. this sound, like something sliding against the floorboards, resonates from behind the wooden door.

you stand outside his office, leaning your ear against the door to eavesdrop. but the noise stops abruptly, as if kei (who you assume is inside) knows you’re right there.

you turn the doorknob and push the door open, revealing a dishevelled-looking kei amidst a heap of blankets. you blink at him dumbly, sleepily, and confused.

“kei,” you drawl. “what’re you doing?” he chuckles nervously as he stands from his crouched position and comes over to you, tripping on a blanket’s edge in the process. you catch his upper arms and help him to steady himself.

he gazes at you frantically, muttering, “’mnotdoinganythingchickpea. whydon’twegobacktobed?” his hands encircle your wrists and gently push you back toward the door. you shake your head.

“keigo takami,” you say in that serious tone parents reserve for when their child misbehaves. “what’re tryna hide from me?”

“nothing!” he exclaims far too loudly and quickly. you raise your brow at him while your eyes trail over his messy hair and half-unbuttoned pj shirt. you catch a glimpse of his toned muscles and golden-brown snail trail beneath the soft cotton. you gulp and avert your eyes to the mess behind him. he side steps, blocking your view.

you groan, “keigo.”

“please dove, promise i’ll show you later, okay?” he pleads.

you roll your eyes, sighing, “you cooking up a grand masterpiece or something back there?” he nods and hums. you let him have his way, following him back to bed and curling tight into his chest, hoping he won’t be able to get away without waking you.

for the next week, you’re banned from entering kei’s office. he claims that he’s working on a big surprise for you, which melts your heart and makes you laugh.

one night after dinner, he takes you by the hand and leads you to his office. dramatic as ever, he makes you close your eyes before he opens the door and guides you inside. when you open your eyes, you see the fruits of his efforts.

before you lies a little nook crafted out of throws and cushions. you giggle as you take in his little nest. it looks so cosy and inviting. 

you exclaim, “kei, this is so sweet!” you turn around and warmly hug him, content to nuzzle into his zesty scent. he kisses your forehead and nudges you closer to his nest. he holds your hand as you sit down in the centre of it, relishing in his overpowering musk. he sits next to you and cuddles with you, peppering your face and neck with tender kisses as he mumbles against your hot flesh how much he loves you.

interpretive dance and singing

it’s the peak of spring; the flowers are in full bloom, the skies are blue, and the temperature is just right for you to wear all your favourite dresses.

tonight is like most other nights. after preening kei’s feathers, you take a shower. you’re soothing moisturiser into your skin as your boyfriend comes into view. you gaze at him in the mirror, smiling brightly. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close, ignorant of the damp towel enveloping your body.

pouring body oil into your palm, you tell him to move. but he doesn’t budge an inch. instead, he wipes the oil out of your palm and warms it in his rough hands. he caresses your shoulders, briefly massaging them before rubbing the oil into your back. his fingertips dip below the towel’s edge, earning a sigh from you.

you tilt your head back to look at your lover. he grins down at you and gently kisses you while wrapping his arms around yours and pulling you back into his firm body.

craving his sweetness, you turn around in his hold, cupping his cheeks and deepening the kiss. tongues swirl and ignite a buried fire in the pits of your stomachs.

kei’s hands roam your body as he sucks on your lower lip. such teasing touches have your towel slipping and eventually pooling on the bathroom floor. he grips your hips, squeezing them as he groans into your mouth.

you two separate for a brief moment, catching your breath and each other’s eyes. he gazes at you lustfully; he’s desperate to mould your body to his all night long, to make you his in the most intimate of ways.

your fingers trail up his exposed biceps before you wrap your arms around his neck. you draw him down to you, smirking as you whisper in his ear, “i know you want me, baby.”

he chuckles gruffly against your skin, the sound doing unholy things to you. his citrusy scent is intoxicating up this close. you breathe in deeply, his thick musk filling your lungs.

he rasps, “yea, i do. i want you so bad, dove.” you hum before nipping at his ear lobe. the small gesture sends a thrill of pleasure shuddering throughout his body.

kei should know this by now, but nothing comes for free. he’s seen the cruelty of this world, and even though you’re his escape from it all, he shouldn’t be as wide-eyed and breathless from your next words.

“oh yea? show me,” you whisper seductively. it’s like everything was dark before you spoke. and now that you have, the lights have been switched on. your words are like the gospel, true and calling him to action. and yet, they’re so impure. kei has been enlightened.

he steps back from you, the cool air wafting over your bare skin. your nipples harden as you bite your lip, looking at him nervously. your lover shakes his head, saying lowly, “meet me in the living room once you’re done.” you hum as you nod, rather intrigued by kei’s sudden change in mood.

when you’ve finally finished your post-shower routine, you head to the living room. your jaw slackens, and your brows raise as you enter, seeing the coffee table moved and couches pushed back to create space in the centre. you blink dumbly as he comes over to you.

he wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you to one of the sofas, saying cockily, “take a seat, chickpea.” you follow his instruction, making yourself comfortable on the sofa while your boyfriend steps back. he catches your eyes, the look in his awfully serious.

you ask confused, “kei, what’s going on?” he shakes his head.

clearing his throat, he begins to sing. you blink at him dumbly as you register his sweet praises that are surprisingly on-key. he spreads his arms wide before rolling his wrists and body in time with his words. you grab the nearest cushion and hold it tight as your mouth hangs open.

your eyes are trained on his quick, rhythmic movements. he spins around and jumps, his voice never faltering. you shriek playfully as he locks eyes with you. his wings spread out to his sides, his beautiful feathers on full display. you can feel your face heating up, cooking beneath the heat of this moment.

you can’t stop staring at him, drinking in how good he is at interpretive dance. you shriek again as he slaps his thighs in a wide stance. your laugh is stuttered as you raise the cushion up, blocking your view of him.

his singing stops and in a moment, the cushion is snatched from your hands and hurled across the room.

he pants, “’m not done, dove. watch me.”

you stutter in disbelief, “n-not done?” he hums as he steps back, ready to continue his performance.

shaking your head, you exclaim, “kei, kei, it’s okay! you don’t have to keep going.”

he pouts, “don’t you like my dance? or my song?” you’re rendered speechless as you stare at him. he tilts his head toward you expectantly, but you can’t speak. you’re far too stunned by his musical display to say anything. the air shifts as he chuckles softly and steps toward you. he plops down on top of you, squishing you against the sofa.

he mutters into the crook of your neck, “did i show you have much i want you?” you groan from his weight as you thread your fingers through his hair.

you kiss his damp forehead, saying amusedly, “oh yea. i, uh, i liked that song you sang. what’s it called? ‘the bird in me’?” he bites your shoulder lightly, but the sudden sensation makes you gasp.

your hands are already shoving at his chest as he grunts sarcastically, “yea, it’s called ‘the bird in me’. i wrote it just for you, chickpea.” he raises his head and pulls off you a little, giving you a bit of breathing room. your chest rises high, grazing his as you take in the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“now, let me have my reward.”

[suguru-getos]

bnha men when you use the safeword: fem!reader

characters included: bakugou, hawks (my 2 pookies)

bakugou katsuki:

it was hectic, the feeling of it all. at first you’d even say it was feeling good, but with the way katsuki’s amped up stamina was nowhere near done on your body, you could start to lose yourself a little. katsuki had just come back from a business trip, he missed you… you missed him too. but the way his cock plunged into your sopping wet pussy, smirking and unraveling your insides every single time… it was starting to ache. especially when he bred you twice already, forced into a mating press and forced to hear the churning sounds of his seed inside you bubbling out with his mushroom tip abusing your poor hole. “kats-“ you mumble, nails indenting over his skin & making it raw. “suki…” words fail you, there is nothing you can do or say for this. you want this to stop, your body can’t take it anymore. “s- suki…” you whimpered again. katsuki’s brows are glistening with sweat, he smirks at you, his genuine, loving smirk as he leans in and kisses you again. your lips smashed against his. “my pretty girl.” katsuki coos, but his pace, his cock isn’t being so nice. and you can’t take it anymore.

“door.” its just silly how you and katsuki decided the safeword term. not creative at all, you just glanced at the door while discussing it with him & this is the first time you’ve ever used it anyway.

there is an instant stop in his movements, siren eyes widened in utter shock. “princess? y’ okay?” the position is instantly adjusted to you laying down comfortably, your swollen cunt parting with his veinny cock as he leans back, kissing your cheek, your forehead. “s’ that too much f’ my baby?” he almost pouts with complete genuineness, looking at you and waiting for you to speak. his warm palms reflexively massaging your forearm and kneading at your body to provide comfort. “sorry- just- got too much for me.” you pouted, tears welling up in your eyes.

“shut up, stop apologizin’ cmere.” katsuki is quick to shun that bit from you, craddling you in his arms instantly. he knows aftercare is important or you’ll fall into submission drop. “my good girl~ so proud of you, you know that? cus’ y’ communicated when it didn’t feel good.” he nuzzles his nose against yours, a bright grin over his face. “my pretty girl.” he echoed that over and over, kissing all over your cute body and hugging you closer, wrapped around in a blanket burrito. get ready to be babied until you get annoyed of him. 💅🏻

keigo takami:

there is an eerie streak that has keigo’s head in a haze to pleasure you tonight. he normally gets in on those, but you’re just so delectable, so beautiful looking with your desperate squirming and mewling when his feathers clamp around your nipple and when his tongue fucks your pussy and flicks your clit with a rhythm perfect for your body — it’s hard to stop. it’s always been hard for keigo to stop playing with his little prey.

“ssh- stop moving around little one.” your squirming and moans are chastised by your man instantly. feathers clamping and spreading your legs apart as he grins. leaning in and continuing with his favorite meal. he’s already made you orgasm twice, and this is the third time he’s pushing your boundaries. “not my problem you taste so divine.” he grunts, nose nuzzling against your poor, swollen clit as he softly nips at your inner thigh.

the next thing which happens has your eyes widened and mouth agape, his thumb spreads your pussy lips and the tip of his tongue leans back your clit’s hood, flicking and vibrating around the exposed & vulnerable bundle of nerves with vigour. “AH- oh no.” you shake your head, this makes you feel queasy. this makes you feel sensitive and sends jolts of good pain down your pelvis. you don’t want that pain, the foreign feeling catching up to you rapidly.

“keigo- no.” you whine, struggling to no avail. you always mumble these things and you know its hard for keigo to take you seriously around this. “feather.” you squealed the safeword out. all of hawks’ movements stop. the feathers wrapped around your ankles and your hands let you go instantly. his marked eyes widening and leaning away. “oh-“ his lips parted.

you didn’t feel like you were comfortable enough with this, that’s all there was. maybe you misused the safeword. are you even a good partner to him? before your doubt flourishes into something rooting deep, keigo hugs you gently, letting you straddle his lap and his wings forming a cocoon around you. “ssh~ there there, sorry it got too much for my little baby.” he hums, kissing the crown of your head.

“just. got uncomfy.” you mumbled, sniffling softly. “maybe i shouldn’t-“

“of course you should have, there is a reason safewords are created sweetness. and if you didn’t feel comfortable you had every right to use this. okay?” keigo coos, kissing your cheek and hugging you tightly. his ragged breaths slowly calming down at the embrace of his mate. even your bubbling doubts vanished quickly as keigo swayed you gently in his hug, humming a random tune of the favorite song you have.

“too bad you don’t have a safeword to stop me from singing.” he hums, after minutes of comfortable silence and snorts. your silly liddul pookie <3

[majoryeager104]

Clingy Keigo, who, as soon as he’s returned from patrol, is already trying to get himself all wrapped up in your arms. He can’t help it, he’s missed you all day, and he was so sore and tired from flying all around town being the coolest hero, now give your super cool boyfriend some cuddles.

Clingy Keigo, who was smiling and giggling like an idiot the moment you finally wrapped your arms around him. He unfolded his wings and rolled over with you in his arms, wrapping you up in his wings in return while he buried his face in your neck, kissing your collarbone and rambling about how pretty and amazing you are. Just let him work through it, he’ll figure out he’s just tired eventually.

Clingy Keigo, your super cool boyfriend who was asleep and drooling on your shirt within minutes after he swore he wouldn’t sleep until he spent some quality time with you. One small issue; you were now tangled up in his limbs and stuck between his wings, meaning his attempts to trap you had been a success.

Clingy Keigo, who muttered in his sleep as he held you tighter, his wings twitching as he dreamed. Don’t you dare move though, because he’ll mumble just a little louder, and squeeze you a little tighter, letting out a little “nooo…” before he fluttered his wings a little around you. Yep. Trapped.

Clingy Keigo, who woke up sometime later, but pretended to be asleep just so you wouldn’t try to leave. No, he just lay there quietly, listening to your heartbeat as you stroked his hair with a content smile on his face.

[azzo0]

Couldn't get the idea of taking care of Hawks' wings off my mind. Not proofread <3

Keigo is really protective and sensitive when it comes to his wings. They're his quirk, the reason why he can move at such high speeds and keep civilians safe. The reason why he's at number two. This also means he takes delicate care of his feathers. He has a special shampoo made just for people with quirks like his. While the shampoo is gentle on his feathers, the spa attendants he gets his wings washed from aren't as gentle. They forget that too much pressure can hurt his bones, even if they're strong. Sometimes, the excessive and harsh scrubbing makes his feathers look like he got into a fight with pigeons. 

But he doesn't have to worry about all that now. Not when he has you with your soft and caring touch. 

Wash days were once stressful for Keigo, but now they're a sweet and intimate moment he gets to share with you as he sits on the edge of the bathtub in his bathroom, big enough for him to spread his wings without knocking a few things over. You stand behind him, showering water onto his wings before lathering the shampoo onto the length of his wings, slowly moving down to the feathers. 

Things easily got heated between you two, especially since he sat there buck naked with your voice whispering sweet nothings in his ear as you helped him with his wings. But most of the time, it was just a quiet and serene moment where you got to take care of him. He deserved to be pampered after all the hard work he did. 

Sometimes, you press kisses on the nape of his neck and the gap between his wings. He sighs dreamily whenever he feels your warm and delicate touch on his feathers, his wings fluttering ever so slightly. After cleaning his feathers, you run water on his wings again. He flaps them a few times after you're done, sprinkling water over you and making you squeal. 

He knows washing his wings is no easy task, so after you're done, he shoos you out of the bathroom to wash his hair, but on days he's too tired, he lets you massage the shampoo into his hair. You help him dry off afterwards, blow dryer on the low setting when you move from his hair to his wings. A few flaps of his wings can do the task, but you do not want water all over your walls. 

After his feathers are dried, you apply the special oil he gets made just for his wings. It leaves his crimson feathers bright and lustrous. He hops in bed afterwards, holding you into him so he can feel your warmth engulf him. He nuzzles into your neck, his freshly cleaned, fluffy hair tickling your chin. He props up on an elbow and brushes his lips against yours, his voice a gentle whisper, "Thank you."

[reverie-starlight]

{need you now- hawks}

y’all remember need you now by lady antebellum?

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. angst-ish? kinda fluffy. I’ll be doing a part two of this from keigo’s perspective eventually.

you can’t sleep.

this has been happening more and more lately, and you wonder how much more you can take without starting to hallucinate.

he’s back home from a mission now, which you only found out because of one of his fan accounts. well- “home”. he’s been staying in the luxurious house the commission kept aside for him. nothing homely about it according to keigo, but it’s not like he has much of a choice.

not after you got caught up in the argument and told him you wanted nothing to do with him.

you had shrugged it off when you saw the post, not knowing if it’s been too long to try and reconcile, but now you’re going down memory lane, holding back tears as you flip through the photo album he made you.

you fight yourself to stay off your phone, but you get to a photo of him kissing your cheek and you can’t stop yourself any longer. the loneliness you’ve been feeling all this time finally wins out.

the clock reads 1:15 AM.

is he even awake right now?

it’s been a month… and he’s always so busy, do you even cross his mind anymore? he always seems to be on yours.

you call anyway, against your better judgement and your heart lurches into your throat when he actually answers.

after two rings, at that.

“hello?” his voice both soothes you and chills you to your bones at the same time.

“hi keigo,” you whisper.

“hi, ba-“ you think he’s about to call you baby out of habit and you wish he hadn’t stopped himself. “did you need something?”

he sounds… somber. solemn. sad.

not at all like the keigo you love.

guilt pools in your stomach at the mere idea of you hurting him this badly.

“I…” you bite your lip. “I miss you.”

you hear his breath hitch. “really?”

you wish you could see his expression and figure out what he’s feeling. he’s always been so good at keeping his voice free of emotion.

granted, he always tried to turn that skill off around you, so you gather that he must be feeling guarded.

you keep going. “I’m so sorry for that night, keigo. I said things that I didn’t mean and I regret it so much… I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

he’s quiet on the line for a few beats and then and exhaled “I’m sorry too, baby. we both said some pretty awful things, didn’t we?”

you laugh, but it sounds a bit more like a sob to you. “yeah,” your voice breaks. “keigo, I… I need you here with me. can you please come over so we can talk about this?”

he clears his throat, likely working overtime to continue to keep the growing emotion out of his voice, but it sounds thick when it breaks anyway. “y-eah. yeah, I can come over. I need you too. I’ll be there soon, okay? unlock the window for me, sweetheart.”

he hangs up and you quickly move to do as he asked.

five minutes later, he’s on your balcony, sliding the glass and slipping into your room.

he immediately wraps you in his arms and your body, once cold and empty, fills with a warmth only he could provide.

he’s whispering words into your scalp. “I love you, y’know that? I love you too much to ever want to break up.”

you nod against his chest, letting the tears flow freely. “I love you too. I’m sorry,” these words are repeated between the two of you- they shoot out of your mouth and hit his chest, sinking into his skin and bubbling up his throat only for them to hit your scalp and absorb into your brain, then fall out of your mouth again like a well oiled machine working overtime.

but there’s nothing habitual about these phrases- as is the case for any time you say them, they’re promises.

promises that will never be broken again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve had this idea for a while and I finally wrote it :3

AND I’m gonna work on this from his POV, which I’m almost more excited abt than this one 👀

@emmyrosee sum angst (ish)

[seumyo]

GREETING YOU FOR MOTHER’S DAY

FEATURING. Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki, Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, Tamaki, Aizawa, and Keigo

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[suksatoru]

here with me ⋆˚୨♡୧˚⋆ keigo x you

keigo's real laugh is nothing, if not music.

there's a front keigo uses when it comes to other people—a barrier he wasn't even aware existed. his faux laugh was easygoing. it was short, and it was charming. he used it whenever he was talking to the higher ups or his colleagues. hell, he used it when he spoke to anyone. he's never been able to share the intimacy of a real laugh with another person before.

secretly, he was envious of those strangers he'd hear every once in a while. whether it was on patrol, or if he was just strolling into a coffee shop—ordinary citizens, people, humans, we're always laughing around him.

it could be huffs of air, odd squeaks or giggles—people with heaving chests, people chuckling, people snorting, people wheezing—but keigo knew a real laugh when he heard one.

which was odd, because he hadn't heard his own real laugh until you.

you're tucked into keigo's side, half awake and half asleep as you stumble forward. your eyes are barely open—and you're so drunk that keigo can already imagine the headache his poor baby is going to have tomorrow morning

"c'mon songbird, up up up."

he takes off your clothes and makeup, changing you quickly into your nightgown as you talk. you babble on about anything and everything that comes to your mind as he works—keigo kneels in front of you, smiling softly as he slowly unravels your dress and takes off your silvery shiny heels—he pulls on your nightdress, and grabs your favorite fluffy socks before tugging them up and over your feet

"kei baby," you whisper, and he glances up at you as he finishes taking off the last bit of your jewelery. he places your earrings into the little gold box you have on his desk as his warm hands wrap around your waist. he hums quietly as you suddenly place your palms flat on his chest, shoving him

he falls onto the bed with a soft oof! before sending you a confused smile

"shh...let me think, kei."

keigo folds his legs, amusement shining bright in his eyes as he watches you. your hair falls from its updo in wisps, framing your face as you stand in deep thought near the edge of your shared bed—hand on your jaw as you tilt your head

your smirk forms slowly. it's small, sly, silly and so drunk as you suddenly kneel onto the bed. you crawl towards keigo and fasten your knees on both sides of his hips—straddling him as he blinks up in surprise, not expecting your warm mouth to begin trailing kisses up his neck

sexy, is all keigo can think as a soft sigh escapes his lips. he's just about to kiss you back—when suddenly, you speak up.

"are you my appendix? because i have this funny feeling riiiight here that makes me feel like i should take you out." you whisper seductively, gliding his palm towards your tummy and under your nightgown

keigo blinks once. twice. before he stutters with his response. he tries to form even just one word—but he can't. and suddenly, he's falling apart—he's laughing so hard that he can't fucking breathe.

you blink in response, tilting your head adorably in confusion. you thought that was a good pick up line! but keigo's face is flushed for an entirely different reason other than being flustered, and his lips are stretched into a toothy grin. you're concerned for the lack of oxygen in his lungs when he's suddenly wheezing, and god, his eyes are shining with tears.

"oh-oh baby, i fucking love you."

you're slapping his arm, whining and pouting about how he ruined the moment. but your tone—your very serious face while uttering the absolute worst pick up line keigo has ever heard has him struggling to breathe in his fits of laughter

but you can't even try to be mad. because keigo's eyes are crinkling with genuine joy, and his hands are pressing you to his chest, and this laugh is so authentic—it bubbles all the way from his belly, so heartfelt and silly that you can't help but giggle along with him

"it was good, right? are you feeling—heh, turned on?"

keigo's smile is breathtaking. no wonder he's on so many magazine covers every month. finally—he leans forward, pressing his warm mouth against yours in a soft kiss as he cradles your face with both of his palms

"yeah, baby. never felt more hot and bothered... you know, 'm gonna marry you one day." he murmurs against your lips as you squirm in his lap

"nuh uh. who said i'll say yes?"

he laughs again. it's softer this time, and he maneuvers you carefully back into bed. you look like an angry kitten when you glare at him, but he only grins in response as he tucks you in—tugging the soft comforter up and over your body before getting into bed himself. he pulls you on top of him, gliding his hand up the back of your thigh all the way up until he's at the base of your spine

"you make me very happy, ya'know that songbird?"

you hum in reply, eyes already drooping close as your hold on keigo tightens just the slightest bit. his wings naturally fold to wrap around you—cocooning you in his hold.

he can see you're too tired to respond, your eyes are already slipping close when he presses a kiss onto your forehead

he admires you quietly, thanking the cosmos for allowing him to have this one good thing in life. you're drooling all over his shirt, and keigo wouldn't ever wish to have someone else laying beside him at night.

[hollowtakami]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ keigo understands how difficult depression can be. no matter how many symptoms you show, any mood swings or crying spells; he will always be there for you.

sending his feathers to grab a soft blanket, some water and light foods - crackers, pre-chopped fruit, anything he could try and help you eat. his bird instincts tend to kick in when you feel low, he wants to care for you, provide for his mate. he's so loving and gentle. it makes you wonder what he had to go through to be so soft.

he keeps a few feathers around the house when he's out on patrols or any missions, he leaves his jacket at home no matter how cold it is so you can keep it with you. he'd thank the world for biting his skin with the wind if it meant his baby bird was happy.

[shouyuus]

just learned about catastrophic molting this weekend (and yes yes, i know it mostly only applies to penguins but stay with me here) and i can't stop thinking about hawks going through an annual "molt" where there's just a week where he sheds all his feathers and is irritable and itchy and there's red feathers all over the house (obvi he can't do pro-hero shit) but ever since he was little, it's been something he's hid from other people because he makes him feel vulnerable, and the first time it happens with you, he tells you he's sick (in his defense, he does think of it as a kind of sickness) and not to worry, not to come over --

"keigo, we both know that you can't boil water for shit --"

"first of all, ouch -- second, i can order takeout! some of the delivery services are almost as fast as i am these --"

"i'm outside."

"wh --" rustling, muffled swearing. a window on the 7th floor opens and the disheveled, but unmistakable silhouette of one takami keigo peers out before he grumbles over the phone line and it clicks off. a moment later, the buzzer at the front door goes off and you push through.

by the time you get up to the 7th floor and make your way to his door, you expect it to be open, except... it's not. you quirk your head and rap your knuckles against the wooden door.

"keigo? i've got a mask on, you don't have to be afraid of getting me sick --"

"it's not that -- i uh --" he coughs; it doesn't sound like he's sick, if anything, it just sounds like he's embarrassed about something. your frown deepens. a beat of silence, a deep sigh, and then the doorknob turns.

you blink the door creaks open and keigo shuffles sheepishly into the crack between the door and the frame. you let out a tiny gasp -- behind him, the tiny sliver of hallway you can see is covered in feathers, everything from the small, downy puffs that sit close to the base of his wings to the long, finely tipped flight feathers he can stiffen into wielded blades.

"keigo!" your first instinct is to panic -- it looks like he's been attacked, and in his own home, no less, but he lets out a coarse chuckle, and holds up both of his hands.

"no, no -- don't freak out -- this is --" he sweeps a hand towards the mess, "ah -- it happens every year," he coughs again, stepping aside awkwardly to let you stumble passed him into the narrow entrance of his one-bedroom place.

"i-it does?" you blink, dumbstruck at the sheer mass of feathers -- feathers everywhere, on the floors, the couch, the coffee table, you shudder to think of the bathroom or the bedroom. you lick your lips, your fingers going slack around the bag of fruits and food you'd brought over. he gently leans down to free the back from your slack fingers.

"yeah... i try not to go outside while it happens," he says, setting the bag on the counter; a few feathers float to the floor. he sniffs, rubbing at the back of his neck, but he makes a face and grunts, reaching further back to itch at the base of his wings.

"does it... hurt?" you ask, curiosity taking over as you turn towards him and motion for him to twist around. he stares for a second before sighing and twisting to give you access to his back. you reach up to rub along the base of his wing, a spot just beyond where his fingers can reach and he groans, giving into a full body shudder. another few feathers flicker off his already bare wings.

"nah," he says, peaking at you with a lopsided grin, "but it does itch like hell." he makes another face, his other wing twitching. you allow yourself a smile as you reach up to sooth at that one too. he sighs, his shoulders relaxing as you skid your nails along the ridge of his wings.

"fuck... that feels nice..." he groans.

"alright, c'mon -- inside -- and bring the food with you," you say, shooing him towards the living room.

keigo turns with a startled look, "oh, no -- you don't have to stay -- i just -- i didn't want you to worry and --" he swallows, "it's kinda weird, so... this whole," he waves at the room again, "molting thing," he says the word as if it were something disgusting. but you scowl at him.

"mm. i don't think so. you'll need lots of energy and nutrition to grow all those feathers back, so drink some of the orange juice i brought -- i even got the kind with no pulp," you roll your eyes, "even though pulp is so much better."

keigo chuckles, allowing you to usher him onto the couch, "if i wanted weird bits of orange in my juice, i'll juice it myself."

you make a face at him, sweeping some feathers from the coffee table and rummaging around the convenience store bag for an onigiri, shoving it into his hand.

"you eat this, and stay put. i'm going to the grocery store to pick up some stuff, we can't have you living off of take out -- your feathers will grow back all..." you trail off, casting about for a word --

keigo's lips twitch as he takes a huge bite of the salmon onigiri, "what? you think that they'll grow back weaker or something if i eat junk food for a week?"

you flush, crinkling your nose, "you are what you eat."

keigo laughs, the sound warm and deep in his chest as he takes another bite, licking his lips of rice.

"you sound like my grandma."

you narrow your eyes, "you didn't know your grandma."

keigo presses hand to his chest in faux hurt, "damn, pidge, way to kick a guy when he's down --"

"but it was something my grandma used to say," you cut in. he falls silent, pursing his lips. you can see the faintest tint of red creeping into the tips of his ears. you sigh, reaching forward to pick a grain of rice from the corner of his mouth.

"if we're gonna make this work, keigo..." you say, gently wiping the grain of rice on a piece of tissue, "you've gotta learn to let me in."

he presses his lips and sighs, leaning back with a long breath, "well --" he waves a hand around the living room as if to say, here you are.

you let out a tiny laugh, "who else knows about this?" you ask, gently.

keigo shoves the final bit of onigiri in his mouth with a half-hearted shrug.

"so far... you're the only one. oh -- and my mother, i guess -- but..." he frowns slightly down at the balled up plastic wrap in his hand. you reach over to pluck it from him, setting it on the table. red feathers lay like a layer of fallen leaves or flower petals over the living room floor.

"i'm sorry..." you say, "if you didn't want me to know but..." you inch forward, taking his hand, running your thumbs along the backs of them, feeling the calluses on his palms, "i'm glad you told me."

keigo lets out a tiny laugh, reaching up to trace a knuckle along the bend of your cheek.

"yeah, pidge, i'm glad i told you too."

he brings you in for a kiss, soft and sweet, warm and trusting. you sink your fingers into his hair and scrape your nails along his scalp. you savor in the way he shivers. he groans, tugging you forward even as you pull back.

"no, no, no -- c'mon, pidge --" he begs, his voice going rough around the edges, "i haven't seen you in --" he swallows thickly, "like five whole days."

your eyebrows kick up, "and who's fault is that?"

keigo nods, "yeah, i know but now that you are here -- can't groceries wait?" he asks, hoisting you into his lap. you let out a squeal of laughter as he nuzzles into the hollow of your neck, his arms wrapping around your middle, fingers dancing up your back.

"the grocery store closes in --" you check the clock hanging on his wall, "two hours."

"tch -- plenty of time," he murmurs, trailing his lips along the column of your neck, "plus, d'you forget who i am?" he glances up at you, the gold of his eyes flashing in the afternoon light. and now, it's your turn to shiver as he inches his fingers beneath the hem of your shirt. your breath catches in your chest at his touch.

"we'll be quick -- i promise."

[axjil]

๋── in a hawks brainrot. just imagining him with his secretary.

hawks isn’t sure if he has expressed his appreciation for you, his secretary, enough for putting up with his antics. but he tries. he’ll give you more day offs than you’re supposed to have, and he also leaves thank you cards on your office desk. he loves to order you around just to annoy and get a reaction out of you, such as by asking you to grab him coffee from the nearby cafe every few hours. or by forcing you to tag along with him because he’s craving KFC and wants to share a bucket of fried chicken with you. and he always gives you the last piece. he gets jealous when you talk to other pro-heroes, always hoping in the inside that he was your favorite. he’ll go as far as trying to impress you by giving his all in fights with villains, praying that you’re watching him from the TV screen. whenever you’re done for the day and you’re leaving his agency to walk home, he’ll secretly fly a close distance in the night sky to keep an eye on you during his patrol just so that he’ll know for sure that you’ve reached home safely without being mugged. he would even trust you enough to casually drop his first name, keigo. he thinks about the idea of kissing you a bit too often. perhaps he should ask you out for dinner.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ohlawdthevoices]

Hawks the typa bf to … | hawks x reader

Hawks the typa bf to text you mid fight because he can’t risk you getting mad at him for not replying

Hawks the typa bf to send you a picture of literally anything , like two pebbles, and say “us”

Hawks the typa bf that says “yeah?” in that silky ass voice because he knows it makes you weak in the knees

Hawks is kind the kind of bf that’s super touchy , he’s like a velcro child. he’s sitting on the counter while you’re cooking, sliding a hand under your shirt when you’re spooning, watching you get ready in the morning and yes even when you’re on the toilet, he will hold your hand in support…it just gets to a point where if he’s not touching you in some way it feels like something is seriously missing.

Hawks is the type of guy to be very closed up, not in an introverted sense, but in a way that it took him forever to open up and talk about his feelings. i think he’s actually a pretty sensitive guy, like he has his moments where he can’t sleep and cries in the middle of the night because he’s so grateful his partner is patient with him

keeping up his “cocky” persona gets pretty tiring sometimes, he’s not completely faking it but he just does exaggerate things infront of others, so i think hawks enjoys his alone time sometimes, but with you now in his life he also enjoys being in the same room as you, not really talking or acknowledging each other but simply enjoying each others presence and the comfortable silence.

Hawks the type of bf that gets all giggly and shy when you touch his hair, he knows you like running your hands through it but it’s still so sensitive after all this time.

Hawks makes bird noises, consciously, it has nothing to do with his quirk, he just does so because it fits the aesthetic.

Hawks the type of bf to stalk you, not in the creepy way, i mean if the man is flying around as a job, he is gonna end up seeing you sometimes, and the amount of “i see you.” or “i know what you did.” messages you get is just concerning.

oh how it hurts him to keep your relationship private, how he wishes he could just show off how cool his partner is but he knows better than to reveal your identity when he works such a dangerous job

Hawks is the type of guy that sometimes sits down and stares at a wall for a concerning amount of time and when you ask him what he’s thinking about, it’s one of 2 scenarios :

first answer is “nothing.” because he’s either genuinely thinking about nothing at all, not a single thought, just void. or because he’s thinking of something so trivial and irrelevant that he’d be embarrassed voicing his thoughts like who decided the color blue was gonna be called blue

second option are hypothetical questions like “hypothetically if zombie apocalypse started rn what would be the first things you grab ?” or “hypothetically if i die rn would you move on ?”

Hawks the typa bf that’s your biggest bully while loving and cherishing you

tags : @idontwannatalkrn1

[emmyrosee]

“But! But!”

“Baby,” Keigo chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief, “it’s gotta come off, I’m sorry.”

He’s not exactly surprised this is your reaction, he’s had his beard since the day you’ve met. Every cuddle you’ve shared, every word he’s spoke to you, every time you’ve looked at him, his facial hair has been there.

And now he has to shave it off.

You pout softly, “but it’s going to be so weird without it…”

He quirks a brow, “you’re not with me just for the facial hair, right?”

“No, but it does help!” you assure.

He snickers and shakes his head, “and now your loyalty is being put to the test. It’s going.”

“Fine,” you grumble. Then, you purse your lips out for a kiss, “one more kiss? Before you ruin my fun?”

“Dramatic,” he snickers, leaning down to indeed press a kiss to your lips. You toss your arms around his neck to keep him close, and he smirks as he grips your cheeks to hold you.

He entertains you for a bit, before finally pulling back with a sigh, “say goodbye, baby.”

You pout, “goodbye, the Keigo I know and love.”

“You’ll love me beardless too, I promise.” At his words, you pull a face, and he chuckles with a pinch of your cheek, ignoring the bats of your hands.

With that, Keigo traverses down the hallway.

He can’t remember the last time he was clean shaven, it was far before he met you for sure, but the idea is slightly daunting in of itself. But it’s been so long, he’s gotta start fresh, and with a roll of his shoulders for confidence, he picks up the razor and gets to work.

The process doesn’t take long, a couple of nicks on his lip from the lack of experience, and within a few minutes, the deed is done.

You’re going to be pissed.

“Babe?” He calls, swiftly exiting the bathroom.

“No.”

He chuckles, “I’m coming out. Be ready.”

“Stay in there.”

He exits the bathroom swiftly, and when you see him in your peripheral, your hands immediately fly to your eyes to cover them.

“You want to see it?” He asks, and with your hands childishly covering your eyes, you shake your head. He snickers and shrugs, “well, you’re going to see it at some point.”

“No I won’t,” you argue. “I’ll cover my eyes forever.”

“What about the kisses that you beg and plead for? Won’t those pretty hands get in the way?”

You whimper in your throat before sighing and taking your hands off of your eyes, your eyes immediately darting in search for his beard and your face scrunches.

“Ohhh, it’s a baby!” You pout, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. He laughs as you whine, “god I’m dating a baby!”

“Don’t say that, it sounds bad.”

“Keigooooo,” you whine. “If you clench hard, will it grow back faster?”

He tips his head back in mock thought, “no. I don’t think so, angel.”

“Will you try?” You plead.

He sighs dramatically before looking down at you in amusement. “You know what? For you?” He leans down to kiss you again.

“Anythin’ doll.”