#Happy Birthday Keigo!

[isabeauwolf]

Hawks x reader - Dance in the Rain

Hawks didn't believe in Cupid's arrow until he was hit with it.

It made his heart thud harder in his chest.

The classic Hero x Civilian romance story.

Hawks couldn't help but feel drawn to you.

He watched you dance in the rain, laughing and smiling while raising your hands into the air, spinning round and round on bare feet. Your clothes are soaked, the red dress you wore clinging to you, molding and fitting your body like a glove.

Hawks flies towards you, grinning and holding an umbrella over your head. "What's a songbird like you dancing in the rain all by your lonesome?"

You meet his curious golden hues. "Just felt like it." You smile, pulling wet strands away from your face and tilting your head cutely, fluttering your lashes at him. "What can I do for the famous Winged Hero Hawks?" You step back, giving him room.

Hawks felt his face grow heated as he landed on the rooftop. "I... I'm just dropping by is all."

You hum in thought, eyes trailing up and down his body. Lean to the side to glance at his crimson wings, on reflex he spread them wide, giving you a full view of his long feathers. Raising a hand, "May I touch them?" You asked, bright gaze leaving his wings to refocus on his eyes.

Hawks felt pride swell and puffed out his chest. "Sure, go right ahead." His smile widened; it was more genuine than his picture-perfect, practiced smiles.

You reach over and gently caress the back of your fingers against his feathers, eyes widening. "They are so soft, " you muttered, trailing them closer towards the base of his wings. He shivered, and his wings ruffled as a cooing chirp left the Hero's lips.

Both of yours and Hawks eyes widened as you stopped.

Hawks grew flustered, slapping a gloved hand over his mouth. "Apologies... don't know where that came from." His voice was slightly muffled, but you heard him as he chuckled awkwardly and cleared his throat. His heart jumped fast in his chest, he heard his heartbeat drumming in his ears, and a tiny part of him felt sad that you had stopped your ministrations.

It felt nice. Sure, he's had people touch his wings before, but yours was surprisingly tender.

He knew if that had become a habit, it would quickly become addictive, feeling you stroke his feathers, perhaps while he's preening them?

Wait? Where'd that thought come from?

"It's quite cute." You giggle and smile, lowering your hand.

"Cute?" He repeated, blinking at you.

You turn and head towards your apartment, waving over your shoulder without looking at him. "Guess, I'll see you around, red." You walk out from underneath the umbrella, causing you to get wet again.

Dazed he lowered his hand and his other hand tightened around the umbrella handle. "Wait, miss-" he followed you with the umbrella to help shield you from the rain, trying to keep his eyes from lowering down to the rest of your curves and how the soaking wet dress looked around your ass. Don't look down, don't look down, dammit, don't- He froze when you glanced at him over your shoulder, forcing him to stop and not run you over.

He expected you to protest. Ask him to leave, which made him inwardly pray and plead that you didn't. He thought when you met his gaze again you would be mad, but no.

"If you are gonna stay and peep on my dance practice, you might as well join me." You curl your index finger, kissable lips quirk into a playful smirk. "What about it, red? Care to dance after I freshen' up and get you some clothes."

Swallowing, he nodded his head.

You opened the screen door, stepped in, and grabbed towels. One for yourself and handing the other yellow fluffy towel to Hawks. "Here red, go ahead and get undressed." You laugh, drying your hair and peeking at him. "I think I've still got some of my brother's old clothes around that might fit." You pat yourself dry, wipe your feet on the fuzzy green mat, and make your way toward your room, pointing your finger. "Go ahead and leave everything in the bathroom, I'll dry'em for ya and help yourself to the shower. Wouldn't want Japan's number three Hero to catch a cold."

He was once again stunned by your words. Watching as you disappear down into your bedroom.

He had to force himself not to shake his soaking wet feathers as he copied your actions, patting himself dry, taking off his boots and socks, wiping his feet on the soft n' fuzzy rug, and strolling towards the bathroom.

His gaze observed everything. The living was decent, the kitchen was spacious and everything was modern and clean, neat and tidy. When he opened the bathroom door, he noticed the bath had already been filled and heated. The water appeared to have a light lilac tint. Had you used a bath bomb of some kind? Tilting his head as he felt his wings flutter along with his heart. You had planned to bathe after your rain dance but, instead decided to let him go first.

Hawks found a blue plastic laundry basket, slowly getting undressed and placing everything into it, reopening the bathroom door and gently sliding the basket outside to make it easier for you.

He felt a chill go up his spine. Quickly, getting into the tub as the scent of lavender hit his nose and lemons? Hawks shrugged his shoulder and lowered himself deeper into the water, a pleasure groan soothing his chilled and aching bones. Leaning back, closing his eyes. He had been taking quick showers most of the week that he hadn't had time for a much needed soak in the bath.

It was soothing.

He could see himself accidentally falling asleep, if he wasn't careful. Reopening his eyes and sighing, Hawks found your shampoo, body wash, and soaps. You said he could use the bath and help himself. He might as well respect your wishes. Grabbing the milk and honey body wash, then the green apple shampoo, quickly washing and rinsing himself squeaky clean. He rose to his feet, getting out as he shook out his feathers, and patting himself dry once more.

After stepping on the blue bathmat, he paused. Realizing that he didn't have a change of clothes. Uh oh. He didn't even know your name.

"Should asked for them before you came in," he muttered to himself. He noticed the blue laundry basket he had placed outside the bathroom was back in its original spot.

His eyes widened, Hawks was so spaced out that he didn't hear you come in. His face grew hot as he wrapped the towel around his waist and peeked into the basket. Sitting inside was a neat pile of men's clothes: Grey sweatpants with a matching crew neck, boxers, and socks. What made the winged hero's brows raise was the familiar logo and brand of his that had just launched last week.

His lips twitched into a smirk.

Well, now. Who was The Hawks fan? You, your brother, or both? Maybe the latter.

He hoped it was you.

He had to inwardly chuckle to himself at the irony that he would be sporting his brand of clothing in front of you like a narcissist during your first meeting, no less. Oh well.

And that's how your relationship with The Winged Hero started during that rainy summer night.

Hawks found out that you were a dance teacher and your quick was telekinesis, which you had inherited from your mother. You could have easily kept yourself dry, but you liked to feel free, letting your walls down and dancing your heart out, emotions carrying you and your mind going blank. Just you and the elements. Raw and passionate.

It made him love you even more.

That had been a few months ago.

Hawks gave you his personal phone number in case of emergencies, but if he were being honest, he wanted to see you again. He felt himself grow anxious whenever he waited for your call or text. His assistant and Endeavor noticed the slight change in the lazy and carefree Hero, the hard-to-catch red-winged speedster and Japan's number one current heartthrob and prized winning bachelor. He was a winged smitten kitten. Oh yes, you had stolen his heart and he was perfectly content with that.

You two would text back and forth every day. Talking about each other's day, sharing stupid and hilarious memes, and jokes. His goal would be to make you smile and laugh once per day, even more, if you two were talking on the phone after you got home from work. He'd ham it up, didn't care, if he was making a fool of himself and talking out of his ass, your laughter and him picturing your pure perfect smile was worth it at his expense.

He could seriously listen to you talk for hours.

Your tone was so relaxing, soothing, and gentle with a hint of teasing and sass. Oh, how he loved it when you fought back without any filter and gave very blunt answers. It was a breath of fresh air compared to other women he dated in the past, so shy, so reserved, and always made him make the first move.

It shouldn't have, but it did. Whenever you asked him out on a date, your first date. Hawks felt himself grow scarlet like a flustered and blushing schoolboy.

You two agreed to meet up on his next day off at the end of the week that coming Friday night.

He should have guessed that it would be dinner and dancing, but what surprised him more was instead of going out. You wanted to cook for him and dance in your living room just as you two had done the first night you two met.

That night, he decided to be Keigo. Show you the man he was underneath his title and his giant red feathered persona.

When he flew back to your apartment, the easiest route he mapped out and knew by heart, carrying your favorite bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates as he landed on your balcony. Where you waited with the window open, smiling and wear that stunning red dress again. It gave him a sense of deja vu as he drank in your appearance and curves, the dress still hugged your figure, your kissable red painted lips and matching red nail polish on your fingers and toes stood out against your skin.

If your stunning natural beauty didn't turn heads, then they would be a foolish not to shamelessly steal a second or third glances. Then again, perhaps he was lucky that you hadn't gone out with you looking so breathtaking and seductive. Who was he kidding, he'd love to show you off to the world, his songbird and tap dancing cutey.

"What's a civilian as cute as you lookin' all pretty n' alone this evening, miss?" Keigo flashed you a cheeky grin as he offered you his gifts. Watching closely as your smile brightened and you gladly accepted them, smelling the flowers and sighing in content.

You fluttered your long, pretty lashes at him and hummed. "I'm waiting for my date to arrive, Hero." You tilted your head and pouted for dramatics, "Have you heard of him? He goes by the name of Hawks."

Keigo's amber iris' brightened, "Oh? Are you one of his adoring fans, pretty lady?" He felt his heartbeat soar and thunder in his chest, his stance straightening, crimson wings expanding behind him as he bit back a smug smirk.

Playing along with your game.

"Who isn't?" You giggle, smile returning. "Such a silly schoolgirl crush, yet… there's something alluring about him." Your gaze lowered to check out his attire: White shirt, black leather jacket, black jeans, and sneakers. Classic street wear, but it suits him. Even his classic yellow-colored visor covering his pretty liquid amber eyes. "You clean up good, handsome." you purred, meeting his gaze, turned, and walked into your apartment without glancing back as he followed without a word. "Just in time for dinner too." You chirped, listing off what was on tonight's menu, "I made salad, stuffed shells, spaghetti and meatballs."

You stopped and hesitantly glanced over your shoulder, cheeks pink. "I might have accidentally made too much." You placed the flowers in a vase and stored the chocolates in the fridge. "I.. uh, hope that you are hungry, Keigo." You turned to face him again as you walked towards the table, waiting for his answer.

Keigo's gaze left yours to eye the spread before him. It all looked delicious. The smell alone made his mouth water. It had been a long time since he'd had a home-cooked meal. He returned his gaze to your own, his smile widening. "It all looks so good," he admitted, "Don't know where to start first." He rounded the table to push out your chair, which you smiled and thanked him as he pushed you in, then sat across from you.

"Help yourself," You laughed, pouring each of you a glass of wine with a side of water. "Save room for dessert," you noticed his curiosity peaked as his wings ruffled behind him. "I made cinnamon roll cake." You had just said the magic words.

Keigo had come to love the overly sugary and sweet, tooth-rotten goodness that was your cinnamon roll cake, which became his new favorite after you shared a slice with him. He even took some with him to the office, which he wouldn't share with his colleagues, oh no, it was his sweet treat. "Tell your brother that I'm not sharing." He was serious. Your brother could make his own.

"I swear you two would start a brawl over my cake." You shook your head and snickered as you used the salad tongs to distribute portions of the fully loaded salad on his plate and yours: lettuce, spinach, baby tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, shredded cheese, and boiled eggs with the choice of ranch, thousand island, or Italian dressing.

Then repeated the same motions with the stuffed shells and spaghetti and meat sauce.

Keigo nodded his head and admitted with no shame and cockiness, "Oh, I'd win hands down." Picking up the wine glass and raising it, "Thank you for the food, Y/n."

"Oh, I'd believe it." You replied, sitting down and raising our own to lightly clink the glasses together before slipping generously. The red wine was smooth with a hint of bitterness that complemented the acidity of the sauces from the pasta dishes which you loved. You hummed and licked your lips, meeting Keigo's own starstruck stare as his eyes grew heavy-lidded, then shook himself.

"Let's eat." Keigo chuckled, grabbed his fork, and dug in.

You two ate and made small talk. Little by little the food was disappearing as Keigo helped himself to seconds before stopping himself, growing embarrassed to have eaten so much, and then asked about dessert. He couldn't help it. Your cooking was too damn good. It would be rude not to overstuff himself.

After eating a big slice of your cinnamon roll cake while you made yourself some coffee to go with your own slice of cinnamony goodness. Keigo insisted on helping you put up the leftovers and stubbornly offering to wash all of the dishes you two finally walked into the living room.

Keigo took your hand in his, leaned down and kissed the back of it, all while peaking into your curious gaze. "Care to dance, my songbird?"

"I'd love to, Keigo." You smile warmly, watching as he straightens, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer, flush against his chest, and linking your fingers together. You slid your free hand up his arm, across his toned chest underneath his shirt, then slowly and teasing, wrapping your delicate hand around his neck. You couldn't help it. The tempting thoughts as you caressed the hair on the nape. "Show me whatcha got." You whispered in his ear, red-painted lips curving as the man against you shuddered and bit back a groan.

"You aren't playin' fair." Keigo's voice dropped an octave, growing husky. His honey-colored swirls of amber gems grew heavy-lidded and darkened. "How villainous of you, my pretty temptress."

You allowed him to lead, twirling and spinning you around the room, dipping and lifting you as if you were weightless, light as a feather. Dancing to the speed-up rhythm of your hearts, allowing your internal passion and chemistry to speak louder than words.

His expression softening, his gaze never left your own, nor you his.

You were even more tempted to see what would happen if you wrapped your leg around his waist and pulled him into a kiss. What's stopping you? Here you are on a date with Japan's number Three Hero and you were getting cold feet?

Why wouldn't you be nervous? He could have anyone he wanted and here he was: eating your cooking which he'd loved, stuffing his face with the cake he had eaten hundreds of times; dancing with you, watching you so intently, reacting in genuine earnest to your touch, hanging on every word and breath.

Keigo couldn't seem to get enough of you.

It still felt dreamlike.

Too good to be true.

Somehow this nosy, feathered, and persistent feathered angel had stolen your heart and wasn't planning on giving it back anytime soon.

With one final dip, you two clung to each other, lightly panting as his wings, wrapped around you, hiding you and shielding you from the outside world in a blanket of red feathers before unfurrowing them.

"You were saying, sweetness?" Keigo purred, rubbing his nose against your own. The bird was downplaying his cockiness and smugness as best as he could, except his huge grin widened.

"Hot damn, red." You hummed, trying to catch your breath as your cheeks felt flustered. "You are no Don Juan, but it's a start. Congratulations." You couldn't stop the giggle from falling from your lips as you pulled away, which he let you to go pour the two of you some water.

Keigo leaned against the island, looking into the kitchen, pouring his glass of the cool and refreshing liquid first, then your own glass before nearly downing it. His golden orbs focusing on the droplets falling down you chin, neck and down between the valley of your breasts and disappeared. He swallowed, feeling his adam's apple bob in his throat. Damn, you were even more seductive tonight. Or was it the wine talking? Both?

It was getting harder and harder to hold himself back from strutting over and kissing you with every fiber of his being, and yet, he stayed. He told himself that he wouldn't make a move until he had your permission first. Something about you made him crazy, needy and awaken some sort of territorial instincts, could it be a hidden part of his quirk?

If so, he was doomed.

Keigo came back to his senses when he heard you call his name, he blinked and then jumped, he hadn't realized you came back with a glass of water for him and slid to across the island towards him. He felt his face redden, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck and laughing it off. "Whoops."

You furrowed your brows in concern. "Keigo... are you alright? You zoned out on me."

"Yeah, I'm okay... just..." Dammit, he couldn't lie to you. Never you. His shoulders sagged, wings dropping as he shyly admitted, "You are beautiful, songbird and I couldn't stop staring." He reached for the glass and drank, missing your shocked reaction.

You knew he was always blunt, confidant and easy going, but this was the first time you had seen him so shy. Dare you call it cute? Of course, it was.

"Thank you." you shook yourself and smiled, taking his free hand and leading him back outside onto the balcony as he left his glass behind. "C'mon. It's getting too stuffy in here. Some fresh air will do us some good."

Keigo nodded, following.

His heartbeat was still thudding hard and a mile a minute. You appeared so calm and composed, a true professional.

Hawks had years of perfecting his image and hero persona, his perfect smile and knew what to do in most situations, drilled into his head by the commission. And yet, here, right now with you... he was genuinely lost.

This was all new to him.

The fresh breeze hit him in the face, lightly ruffling your hair and his, wafting your familiar scent of milk and honey body wash he loved, and secretly used to smell like you at home. The splash on vanilla perfume coming from your throat, chest and wrists. It wasn't overpowering or overwhelming, instead, it made him want you more.

The need to kiss you as his hunger for you grew.

You stopped and turned around to face him, stopping him from opening his mouth.

Closing the distance between you two.

"If life was like a movie, our date wouldn't end without a kiss." You linked your arms around his neck, waiting for permission as you pressed your chest against his, red-painted lips hovering and ghosting over his. "Well? Aren't you gonna sweep me off my feet and kiss me like you mean it, red?"

Keigo felt his mouth quirk into a grin, bright and beaming. "Yes, ma'am." He laughs, picks you up, and swirls you around, resulting in you laughing along with him, then finally presses his mouth to yours in a heart-stopping and passionate kiss.

Keigo swears your kisses are addictive, making him feel intoxicated and light-headed, yet free.

He cups your face with his palm and tilts his head to deepen the kiss, licking your bottom lip with silent permission. You gave him access and he quickly intertwined his tongue with your own, groaning as you moaned.

He pulled away, panting and chuckling. "Did I pass the test, Y/n?" He murmurs, wiggling his brows. "Or does my little songbird need another sample?" Keigo couldn't help but slowly lick his body lip as he still tasted of cinnamon and coffee, he liked it.

He knew he'd now think of you anytime he saw cinnamon rolls and coffee.

You were dazed and trying to catch your breath, greedily sucking in air.

You shake yourself and give him a coy smile and tilt your head in though. "Hmmm, if you are offering," you shrug, "Then I'm game, Mister Hero."

"Don't mind, if I do, songbird." Keigo whispered, capturing your mouth again.

He didn't care if it rained, snowed, or if he got called into work.

He wasn't going to let you get away from him now.

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Taglist: @fanofflames @angelblueflame @moonchild701 @cherry-queens-blog @number-2-hero-hawks @fairymama624 @everypanelofkeigo @lucyblue101

Fanfic inspired by "Waiting for Superman" by Daughtry

[scarlettphantoms]

[dattebroyo]

🎂🪶Happy Hawks Day!!🪶🎂

[uyallstars]

BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA ➣ 04x25

[a-sound-sol]

it’s almost PATHETIC the way that Keigo needs you in his life.

Until you came around, he didn’t see much use in forming relationships with people that weren’t gonna get him ahead in life.

He was used to being a spy, just a tool for the government to use. But when he met you… everything changed.

You, who’d never make him feel used or useless. The person who keeps him calm just by being yourself. You think about the world as an open and vast place to learn about. You don’t see good and evil, you see the grey.

Keigo wants to see the world how you see it. He wants to be as a free as you are.

The first night he takes you flying, you’re in awe. You can’t believe this is what he gets to experience daily.

He loves seeing your face as your eyes twinkle looking at the stars. He loves you.

When he loses his wings, he’s scared he’ll lose you too. After all, he assumed you only stuck around to see the sites.

Imagine his surprise when you show up with your pilot’s license that you had been secretly getting so you could show him the world through your own eyes.

[takami-takami]

Like a Candle at Both Ends.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. smut.

warnings— sub!keigo. reader uses a strap. double penetration with a twist. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. dacryphilia. cum as lube. slight feminization (of keigo). slight degradation. some brattiness. face-sitting mentioned.

In which you blow the birthday boy's back out like a candle. Topping Keigo with a fleshlight underneath him, that way he gets so overwhelmed he cries. ♡

You're at least ninety percent sure Keigo won't remember a damn word he says, tomorrow.

It's a pity, truly, that his gorgeous babbles of incoherency that entertain you aplenty in bed will only live on in your memories; but you suppose you can't really blame him. It would be difficult for any man to remain focused in this situation— let alone one who gets as lost in the floaty depths of subspace as Hawks.

You've always known your boyfriend to have a penchant for indulgence. If the tabloids get one thing at least half-correct, it's that Keigo is quite the glutton for satisfying his baser urges.

Tabloids call him a foodie. They snap pictures of him at different restaurants every afternoon during his usual two o'clock lunch breaks, sinking his teeth into delicacies with a moan, only to wash it down with the most caffeinated coffee he can get his mitts on.

And those same tabloids write adorable little periodicals about how their media darling just loves a little something to eat.

But you know better.

The reality is, it's more that Keigo is simply a brat who likes to indulge. He likes to be pleased.

He likes to fill and be filled, to stuff and be stuffed; but you don't blame them for not reading between the lines, there. You suppose you do have the unfair advantage of seeing him make that same, satisfied face after you've milked his cock to empty itself past the point of shooting blanks.

If anyone on this earth is privy to a crucial little piece of information the rest of the world doesn't know, it's you. The paparazzi that flock like vultures outside local diners in the hopes of catching the number two may snap pics of him smiling to himself as he digs in, but they don't have the slightest idea what else Keigo likes to sink his teeth into.

Namely: your neck, if he's lucky; cock throbbing in your vice grip, on days you grant him permission to teethe at your skin until the splotches of color from his marks settle like satisfaction in his chest. 

But mostly— and especially, on nights like tonight— the revered, dignified hero Keigo Takami just sinks his teeth into the pillow like a goddamn whore.

Right now, as Keigo lays on his front and bites back some rather pathetic sounds, the plush pillow beneath him is looking unbearably chewable to his eyes. Your delicate hand is reaching around his body like a serpent, snaking underneath his pelvis to grip his sensitive length so carefully in your palm; and the man below you is beginning to suspect he might need another outlet for his sexual frustrations, soon.

"I c-can do that myself," Keigo releases the pillow and sputters, though his body doesn't protest in the slightest. In fact, his hips arch away from the toy positioned below, in order to allow you rightful access to his cock.

"Yeah, obviously," you answer with a squint, sliding your fingers along his length. "But I want to do it for you, so I will. Are you complaining, Kei'?"

"Mm. No," he hums the right answer, shifting comfortably to rest his cheek against the pillow and settle his weight on his knees. "But I might start complaining if you don't hurry it up. I don't take this long when I put it in you," he whines, smushing his cheek further into the fluff to resist the temptation to look down. He doesn't flinch a bit when you thread your fingers through his hair in response, practically petting him.

Still, Keigo sighs in pleasure rather than dissatisfaction when he shuts his eyes. He can't deny that your soft skin feels incredible on his cock, crackling with electric charge; but the fleshlight trapped beneath his hips is enticingly lubed and ready for him, and that simple fact is causing him to grow impatient. The way you're rubbing his tip against its entrance doesn't help in the slightest. It feels more agonizing than pleasurable, at this point.

"Stop playing with it and put it inside already," he groans. 

"Aww," you coo. "Are you feeling pent up today, Keigo?"

It's meant to be a tease, but the response you get is heartbreakingly genuine.

"A little bit, yeah," Keigo answers truthfully, cocking his head to the side for a second. His neck pops with the motion, achingly, and he cracks his neck the other way to make it look intentional. Still on his belly, he crosses his elbows and tucks his chin atop his arms. 

Keigo looks genuinely fatigued when he blinks. Black lashes rest on his cheekbones a little longer than usual today, and you're aware that the only thing hiding his prominent eye bags is a few layers of expensive, caked-on concealer. 

You swallow a pang of resentment at the sight. 

Next year, you'll be sure to make a few phone calls with some choice words and demands you refuse to budge on.

Somehow, the urge to spit an uncharacteristically shrill "let me speak to your manager" over the phone to some HPSC bigshot isn't quite as strong as the urge to spoil Keigo tonight, instead; to make your baby forget the press interviews his handlers drag him to, around this time every year. The meetups, the galas— even those photoshoots you're silently a bit thankful for because he looks so irritatingly handsome in them.

You take out your irritation on his wings, gripping the sensitive primaries in one fist. To his delight, you begin to stroke the sensitive, silky bristles along the sides of his feathers, teasing them with your fingertips.

"Woah, woah, woah," Keigo smirks. The plumage of his wingspan preens with the attention, arching into your touch like a purring, spoiled housecat. "Easy there, doll. What's gotten into you today— oh, fuck me."

The moan dies down into a pleased rumble in his chest; and before he knows it, his hips arch just like his glorious wings, grinding his backside against the pretty, pink appendage strapped to your hips by a few medieval-looking buckles.

"Nothing," you lie. "Just wanted to shut you up, but it's not working all that well." 

"Liar," he snides. "You know that makes me loud, baby."

"Wasn't exactly trying to hide that, but nice try."

Your palm finally guides his tip into the toy, slipping it deep inside while he sighs in momentary relief.

But the relief is just that. Momentary.

Keigo's hardly bottomed out for a dozen seconds before he's whining and trying to press himself back against the tip of your strap, too.

"Oh my god," you laugh genuinely, dumbfounded by how quickly he begs for the next little indulgence on the list. You're too busy popping the lid of a plastic tube and drizzling your strap with lube to babysit him; so for now, you ignore his whorish little display for attention. 

"You want it that bad, already," you ask, slicking the length and plopping the tip against his fluttering rim, giving him a few lovetaps.

"Yeah," Keigo smiles, deliriously. "Wanna feel you fucking against my prostate. Give it to me."

Cheeky. On another day, you'd deny him strap altogether for acting like he doesn't need to do anything to earn it.

"Tell me if anything feels weird," you say instead, kissing his shoulder once while you grip the tip in one hand, pressing it against his hole. "Does it feel okay?"

"Mm, yeah," he rolls his shoulders. "But can you, uh, let me just lay here a little, at first? You know, while you do your thing?"

Keigo shakes his hips in an attempt to look enticing with the shameless request. "I'll be really good. Promise."

"You're such a fucking pillow princess," you accuse as you slide inside his already prepped hole and begin to move; and just as quickly as you utter it, the pseudo-insult backfires in the form of a high pitched, utterly pleased moan below you.

"I-I can be your princess," Keigo immediately agrees, with some nods alongside each of your thrusts. When you sink into him, he sinks his teeth further into the pillow than his mind sinks to delirium— deeper than his pride sinks down to a new low. 

"I'm yours, I'm your princess," Keigo repeats. "I'm your fucking princess," he moans, reaching one hand back to claw those delicately manicured fingernails into the meat of your thigh. Each nail is meticulously cut, shaved down like the hair on his lithe body and painted an iridescent gold to match his eyes under your bedroom light.

It's whiny when he pleads, "fuck me"— and it sounds even more pathetic when he squeals it. 

With every infuriatingly slow thrust of your hips, Keigo makes a show of displaying his greed. He drags you into him, vice-grip in one hand locked in your flesh to pull it flush into his. His other hand busies itself clutching the drool-soaked pillow against his bare chest for stability.

You treat him delicately, fucking him too slow for him to even think of blowing his load? Oh, that makes him growl through his teeth.

"Just blow my back out, already!" He practically mopes, cock still throbbing in his toy. You can hear the purse of Keigo's lips, his adorable, jutted bottom lip that you're certain is wobbling at this point. 

"C'mon," he grits. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that you should, like… Keep your promises? They're no good if you don't, y'know."

There are only a few days in the year Keigo is allowed to act out like this, and he'll be damned if he doesn't capitalize on them to the fullest.

The brat's gonna put you in an early grave at this rate, you think. You may not be able to punish him today, but you certainly can give him exactly what he wants. 

And when you do give him what he wants, the reality becomes abundantly clear: he can't actually handle it.

When you speed up, he pants like a dog— or, more aptly given this pretty little position, dripping submission and precum while he gets his ass stuffed, face down— Keigo pants like a bitch.

With his tongue far too heavy for his mouth, he resorts to whimpering into the pillow— his poor little crutch. The fleshlight is still squished between his pelvis and the bed, so every thrust you grind against his ass milks his cock, too. It's impossible to keep his head clear and focused when he's stimulated on all fronts; but bless him, Keigo does try.

He tries so hard, pathetically, to focus through the sounds of his lubed cock rubbing against the wet silicone, through the full feeling stuffing his insides at the same time.

Yet even still, it's not enough for him. He snarls in frustration as he shoves his hand between his thighs to adjust the cocksleeve, angled so he can stuff more of his cock in it, enveloped down to his base and pressing near-painfully against his balls. 

Fuckin' perfect, he sighs, finally able to direct his attention to his lovely partner digging out his guts from behind.

"Make me your b-b—" He starts and trails off, brows pinched with effort. "Make me yours," he corrects.

Oh? You tuck that little tidbit away.

You suppose it's been countless minutes since you began railing the poor, whimpering pup beneath you. That is, if you were to judge by the rasp in his voice that builds each time he cries his heart out.

Keigo is, despite it all, a very, very good boy. He gives you his visual cues when he feels that telltale tingling in the swollen, blushing tip of his cock; the one that lets him know how close he really is to bursting along the edge. He tenses his already defined muscles and looks back at you with the cutest puppydog eyes, just to make sure you know he's close. 

"I'm gonna cum," he warns verbally, too.

But you don't stop.

If his muscles weren't tense enough before, they certainly are now.

"Baby?" Keigo near-panics, turning a bit to gaze up at you pleadingly. Your floral bed sheets twist into spirals under each of his fists, wrung in a manner not unlike his cock. "Baby, I-I said I was gonna cum."

"Yeah, I heard you the first time." You peer down your nose and eye the bead of sweat that slithers down his neck. 

You watch the tremble of Keigo's hips as he does his best to keep his position poised like a prized showdog, dutifully still. He resists the urge to meet your strokes, instead offering every scrap of control to you as he lets the length of your strap carve out his insides. With every angled rock of your hips, the tip of your curved cock rubs against his poor prostate, stimulating it and making it a nightmare of an endurance test to hold himself back from spilling.

Habit is a powerful thing. Of course, Keigo's body recognizes the familiarity of this song and dance. His cock, ever well-trained, expects you to deny its release; to still your hips and cause his balls to ache, heavy with deprivation, just like you always do.

But tonight, you don't stop. 

Your hands are still gripping his hips and your strap buckles are still clinking with your desperate movements. Your pelvis keeps pressing him deeper, manually pushing him in and out of the toy below; and he begrudgingly accepts your generosity, because it's possible that you just felt a little altruistic today. 

After all, it is his—

"I'm gonna cum," Keigo whimpers. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum!" 

And with his nails tearing at the sheets, Keigo's world goes white; almost as white as the sticky mess he makes of his poor little toy, tip flooding it with rope after rope from his throbbing cock.

It rings in his ears when he climaxes, overloading his poor brain with endorphins and making him scream into the pillow he chomps down on.

Still, your delicate hands guide his hips back and forth, ignoring his babbling to watch him fuck his own cum into the toy. 

If it pleases you to watch Keigo continue the motion long after your hands have retreated, you keep it to yourself.

"Ah," he nearly shrieks, high pitched and pretty. "Too much! Ah, fuck, baby, please—"

"Yeah? How does it feel, sweetheart?"

"W-Wet," Keigo hiccups, hips stuttering just the same as his voice. He paws at the sheets when he continues, kneading them in his palms like a kitten. "So fucking wet."

"Mhm," you hum, sitting back on your haunches. You decide to make him use his words for your entertainment, to sate your indignance at his prior tantrums. "And why is that, babe?"

Your palms slide possessively down his hips and up the curvature of his back, meeting his arch. They trail toward his shoulder blades, fingers splayed as Keigo tries to chase them; and to your amusement, he hardly looks to be in the proper state to process the fact that he's actually being mocked, let alone protest it. 

To Keigo, all he knows is it simply feels good.

Keigo answers obediently, instead. It takes you by surprise, the way his unabashed filth spills without shame. Arousal pools between your thighs, but your body remains still— if only to watch the way he fucks himself on your cock, balls deep before he does the same using his own to the fleshlight below.

"Because it's stuffed full of my cum. It's s-so wet, full— fuck," he slurs, voice airy and utterly uncontrolled when he draws his hips back onto your thick, pink strap, down till his ass meets your pelvis; and he thrusts his cock back inside the toy, the subsequent shlick somehow louder than how he runs his mouth. 

Back and forth, in and out, Keigo irreverently milks himself from both ends. The motion of it smears his own spent along the sides of his cock, acting as the most obscene lubricant. It's messy, unbearably loud in its slick sounds.

It must sound as satisfying to hump as it feels, Keigo thinks. His lip wobbles at the thought, hoping it impresses you, and he bites the pillow below him.

"Aww, it's full?" You don't bother to muffle your laughs as you kneel behind him, simply watching as the once-powerful hero below you does all the work and fucks the snark out of himself, for you. The sound of your condescending laughter breaks him, whittling down his vocabulary as his mind sinks to that familiar, fuzzy place.

The silicone is unbearably tight around his length, even though you were careful to pick one out that he could fit into. The thickness and length of Keigo's cock does tend to make shopping for toys a chore, you muse.

You're not complaining, though. You'll take a couple extra hours of scrolling through fleshlight reviews on forums for the well-endowed before making a purchase, if it means you can keep getting split open by his massive cock when he bends you over the bathroom vanity.

Or the kitchen counter. Or the leather couch in your living room. Or the nearest single-stall restroom sink after you accidentally call him something you shouldn't have in public.

But tonight, the nicknames you call him sound nothing like "sir."

They sound like "puppy", like "sweetheart", like "good boy."

The ribbed, silicone rings inside are designed to squeeze his cock with each stroke. It normally feels simply pleasurable; though, after an orgasm that explosive, his cock feels nearly raw in its sensitivity, nerves exposed like live wiring and sparking electricity all the same.

"It hurts," Keigo squeaks through his fat, wet tears; and you begin to pull out and fuss over him. 

That is, until he wails and grips your thigh close in his claws.

"Wait, I want it to! Don't pull out, please don't, please don't pull out. I was so close," he slurs.

"Already?" Your face scrunches with disbelief.

"Uh huh," he nods furiously.

And just like that, your grandiose plans of discovering how much is too much for the glutton end up fizzling out. 

"Figures you'd be into overstimulation," you roll your eyes, palm slapping once against his behind as you watch it go from fleshy peach to red. "Whore."

"Huh?" Keigo drools. He sounds like a lost puppy, brain too fuzzy to register a single word— well, other than whore, but that's only because that word made his cock feel kind of nice.

"Not gonna remember a damn word you said tomorrow, are you," you ask, watching him rock his hips in desperation, drowning in his own pleasure. "Too lost when you get fucked, huh, puppy?"

"Mm-mm," Keigo shakes his head furiously, blonde tufts sticking up like stray feathers. At the sight of it, you're overcome with a sudden urge to claw at his scalp. 

"Mm! Love you," he adds for seemingly no reason when you yank his neck back by the roots, throat bobbing with his strained swallow.

Heart pounding like the percussion of a heavy metal drum with moans just as erotic, skin slick with sweat and cock wet with his own release; this is the man Keigo is reduced to as you take charge once more. You bully his prostate, thighs burning with effort and breath panting in his ear. Your left hand releases his scalp to grip his jaw and keep his back arched into your chest, while your right shamelessly milks his cock, fleshlight in hand.

It's too much. His moans are broken, climbing in pitch like a crescendo until the dam breaks and his mind shatters once more. 

You know how loud Keigo can be. You're well aware, well prepared; yet, like every time you make him sob and scream when he cums, it travels between your legs like lightning, regardless. 

After he collapses into the sheets, it takes Keigo ages to catch his breath. His body still shudders and twitches with the aftershocks of his orgasm, wings flapping twice before tucking against his shoulder blades, submissively. 

There's drool on the pillowcase, you note; and it's been chewed to bits.

When you pull out, he gasps. You rub the tip against his twitching rim in an attempt to soothe him, and his gasp settles into a sigh.

"Good?" You're out of breath, yourself, when you dare to ask. "You look like you lost one of your nine lives, for a second."

"Eh, it was alright," he smirks. "Could you do it again? I wasn't paying attention."

"Shut the fuck up," you slam the pillow against his side. "You're such a brat."

"You love it," Keigo teases, rolling onto his back and stretching. He exposes his belly. Blissfully comfortable, fucked-out, and entirely satiated.

His eyes nevertheless catch between your legs as you unbuckle the strap and let it fall unceremoniously. He wets his lip and swallows, pupils dilating.

"C'mere," Keigo says, making grabby hands. Expectant, he shifts in eager anticipation, settling into an acceptably comfortable position as you place your thighs on either side of his head— he won't be moving for quite some time, after all. 

"Oh," you add, pretending as if you suddenly remembered something. "And Keigo?" 

"Mhm?" He hums, craning his neck toward your core, eager to lap himself another helping to fill.

"Happy birthday, baby."

[rueclfer]

this hawks in a garage band and hes sitting on the dusty couch like this watching touya banging on tomura's drums bc he just needs to get some energy out and he's just like "u done yet????? no? okay." and tomura is right next to him playing clash on his phone waiting for them to get practice started

[blue-rosa-art]

Happy Birthday to our favourite Bird man🦅🎈

[hokusu]

Hawks being given so many balloons on his birthday he stops flying and just floats through the sky throughout the day, only lazily rippling his wings to redirect himself when he starts drifting too off course.

And when Dabi asks how the supposed fastest hero arrives so late, it's suppose to come off mocking and threatening, because Dabi doesn't wait for Hawks, it's the other way around.

Yet even too his own ears he sounds... almost jealous.

Because Hawks shrugs sheepishly and hands him a balloon out of the hundreds hanging off his wings.

And it feels suddenly unfair that the world seems to know it's Hawks birthday but he didn't.

No one else is allowed to compete for Hawks' attention more than him.

[varukaart]

Happy birthday takami keigo 🪶

[transhawks]

Top Ten Hawks Moments of 2023

For Keigo's Birthday and for the end of this year, I have decided to make my top ten Hawks moments for all the chapters published this year.

10. "Hawks" gets torn into shreds by AFO

we had a lot of near-deaths for Hawks this year, but I think this was the most memorable as it happened, giving a very needed burst of humor to the AFO vs Hawks and the Heroes fight. Tokoyami's reaction was particularity heartbreaking.

9. Whatever Level of Gay was Achieved Here

This entire chapter was framed in a way that constantly put Hawks and AFO contrasting and melding and there are panels where their thoughts connect. I thought it was a very good way for Hori to make their dynamic fighting each other stand out. Also, the fight was ridiculously homoerotic.

8. Hawks Reminds Us It's About Connections, Stupid.

A theme for the post-Jaku part of this manga has always been heroes needing to bridge that gap and see if they can connect with the villains. It's interesting that Hawks has been the canon mouthpiece among the adults for that view when he so utterly failed his own narrative-assigned connection. I know there was so much pushback in this moment because Keigo again thought of Endeavor, but it stood out to me in repeating this allegory of OFA linking everyone as the solution to the conflict in the first place.

7. Realizing They All Have the Power to Make Their Own Narrative

Against a villain like One For All who wants to believe he's in his own light-novel, Keigo's own issues distinguishing reality and fantasies managed to settle down. He's always resigned himself to being a caged bird and a martyr, so being pitted against a villain so into life being a foregone conclusion helped Keigo remember they all have more agency than they give them credit for.

6. I think all of Keigo's Rizz was in Fierce Wings

Seriously, this is his normal fake hero persona on STEROIDS? It's fascinating how naturally this stuff comes to him. Like damn, he even has his tongue out, mocking All For One as he gets hoisted by his own petard, and has an arm around a vestige lady who looks suspiciously like All For One's mom, which I am accepting as canon until told otherwise. Say what you want about Hawks, for all his failures and paradoxes, the dude has serious BDE. I'd rate this higher but he had a lot of good moments.

5. Nothing beside remains, round the decay

Probably one of the most striking panels this year, seeing a defeated, quirkless Keigo struggle to get up and meet the horde of encroaching Toga-Twice clones, holding the last remaining feather in a landscape of complete destruction made me think heavily of the Ozymandias poem. Keigo, who has always represented the hero system with his whole diamond-insignia carrying chest, seeing all the consequences of his actions and the futility of his actions in stopping the very future he'd allowed himself to commit murder to prevent. I wonder if it struck him how little it all meant as he faced his "presumed" doom.

4. Farewell, Fierce Wings!

we bid goodbye to the quirk that continued to fight even as it was stolen into the eldritchian amalgamation that is All For One! The look in the vestige's face is so resigned and bitter-sweet as he decays away. Keigo isn't his quirk, but it's remarkable how willing to face death both of them are.

3. What he really wants

The interesting thing is the narration implies that either Keigo was telling Naomasa that the aging made AFO stronger as the battle happened, or still had enough control over his emotional state after being left in the dirt to tell him what he observed. The latter is, well, not that surprising when it comes to Keigo, who won't let being quirkless or maimed or delimbed get in the way of being at his job, but that's not what Hori shows us.

No, Hori doesn't show us Keigo standing up or sitting up, no he shows us a Keigo clinging to Tokoyami, a complete break in the many masks he wears to show actual devastation and need for comfort.

There's no Keigo pretending he's okay. There's just one panel showing us a young man embracing his unconscious student after probably one of the most horrific experiences in his life. Keigo, who has been mentioned to be a person who puts so much distance himself and other people, is the one the one clinging to Fumikage.

2. He really was, wasn't he?

As the Twice clones disappear, we see a melting Toga-Twice on the brink of killing Keigo, who makes no move to stop her as she slices him open. No, he seems almost penitent as he accepts death, only pausing to tell her he knows why she's killing him. Make no mistake, the moment he saw Twice back, he knew what this was all about; killing Jin. In this moment, he doesn't hold himself back with saying killing Jin was necessary - the future Jin's murder was meant to prevent came about anyway, no, this is just Keigo being honest that he really liked Jin, anyway. This panel might show the first real regret we've gotten from him, which is likely why he was so open about not fighting back. Because Keigo knows that he does "deserve" this.

1. Haven’t you already done your best, Hawks?

Chapter 185, this panel introduces us to Hawks.

Two hundred chapters later and we finally see Hawks, for all intents and purposes, resoundingly defeated. His quirk is gone. The army he had as back up, defeated. His student lying defenseless beside him. His hero-partner having left to fight his own battles.

And yet, despite it all, despite losing his quirk, despite every sign of failure around him, especially as he now has to reckon with his own moral event horizon, Keigo's capable of saying one thing:

[tinytengen]

my special bird boy 🐥✨

[fallen-w1ngs]

literally has js been a few hours since i last posted, but it's 1:30 AM and it's December 28... SO THAT MEANS:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HAWKS <3!!

[takamikeigofan]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HAWKS MY GLORIOUS KING ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️🙏🙏🙏🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁

[a-sound-sol]

Hawks x Autistic!Reader Headcanons

m.list

Keigo m.list

he’s a trained assassin and spy. He doesn’t need you to tell him when you’re feeling overstimulated or overwhelmed. He’s already got everything you could need.

even then, he waits for you to reach out to him too. he never wants to overstep or assume he gets it.

talk about a collection of fidget tools!!!! dude has a drawer full of sensory items just for you <3

he actually has a guest room set up as a sensory zone with a crash pad and LED lighting just for you !! he knows that sometimes you need more space to yourself and he respects that

always brings you something related to a special interest after a mission

he’s not afraid to become the weighted blanket you need. He’ll either use his wings or he’ll straight up use his body and cover you for hours

he presses his forehead to yours when you’re melting down and are okay with physical touch. He does everything he can to ground you

he will ALWAYS take care of you, that’s just how much he loves you !!!

[blackwolfmanx4]

Happy Birthday, Keigo Takami (Hawks)! 🦅🎉🎂🎁