Ok so like top Keigo begging to breed the reader ✅✅ yes I'm a whore we die like women
TW: Feral behavior, breeding, oviposition, VERY incorrect anatomy 💀, murder/yandere themes. Cringe, kinda dubcon cuz aphrodisiacs are involved? Keigo has a long dick which I wouldn't NORMALLY write but--oviposition--
I don't even think I have half the kinks listed but-- Curiosity killed the cat and I blame hentai for it.
8k words and this is also my first hawks fic in years lmao
Out of the many ways to be woken up, blaring sirens has to be your least favorite. They could only mean one of two things: either you're dreaming that something is critically wrong with the ship--the hunk of metal traveling at light speed and the only thing protecting your very mortal body from an infinite void--or you wish you were.
You always suffered horrible dreams, especially since becoming the mechanic of a scouting craft. It was an honorable job, but you were the youngest in your trade and therefore assigned the worst vessel. Your very own little wreck, which you affectionately nicknamed "Buster", was notorious for constantly having critical failures. You never went a single day without something acting up; bonus points if it could kill you. Combine that with a crew that treats you like the cabin maintenance crew and you've got the recipe for a crappy voyage.
The sirens continuously blair so you pull your pillow over your head, praying that anybody else will deal with it. Hopefully it was just the navigator flying you into an asteroid field again. The forcefield will handle it.
Unfortunately, that wish is blown out the window when the ship jolts, sending anything that isn't bolted to the ground flying across the cabin--including you.
You sprawl face-first into the door of your room, bashing your nose with enough force to spatter blood across the ground. At least you know the artificial gravity is working. The red emergency lights click on just as you manage to orient yourself. The glowing blue hand sensor that unlocks your door is right in front of your face, so you angrily slap it.
The door opens with a hiss, and you stagger into the hallway.
The ship Commander is already in the control center, a spacious room in the middle of the ship with a circular console at its center displaying all of the ship's systems, calmly regarding the countless blinking errors and red lights across the dashboard.
You speak before he does. "What happened?" You ask, hoping that he was awake when the problems began.
A quick glance at the console tells you that there is far more wrong than a simple malfunction. Every system on the right side of the ship has failed, including the engine, backup generators, and force field.
The Commander stares blankly at the error messages, eyebrows wrinkled as he ponders.
"I... don't know," he replies. His focus shifts from the console to the window. You follow his gaze and see nothing but the blank slate of space.
The other crewmates enter the room.
The Navigator slaps his hands down on the console, causing the holographic image to shake.
"Did you guys see that light? It was like a star passed by my window!" He says, eyes full of wonder.
You shrug your shoulders, not willing to admit that you might've slept through a bit of the commotion.
The gunner vigorously nods.
"I saw it too!" She says, "it was like a rainbow--do you think it could've been a comet?"
The Commander shakes his head.
"If we were that close to a comet, we'd be dead." He says in that gravely voice born from yelling too much in his lifetime.
Nobody says anything for a long time. The sirens continued to blare, filling the ship with a haunting melody.
While you're supposed to wait for his orders, several vital systems are down, including the forcefield, and you'd rather fix those issues before you all end up as meat popsicles in the vacuum of space. The best strategy is to fix as much as you can from inside of the ship. Any cracks or dents need to be sealed before you go outside to ensure the safety of the crew and, with any luck, you'll be able to fix the force field and make outside travel safer.
Your name is yelled, causing you to jump. The Commander's eyes bore into yours.
"Did you hear me?" He barks, "I want you to go fix what you can. Start with surveying the damage from the outside."
Surprise scrunches your face. It would be incredibly dangerous for you to go outside with the forcefield down, not to mention all the other safety risks…
"But wouldn't it be more efficient to start with the genera--" you start, but the commander cuts you off with a glare.
Right, talking back is strictly against the rules.
As you turn to leave, you can't help but notice that none of the other crewmates are getting up. They just stare at you, waiting for you to leave, likely so that they can discuss what happened.
You have to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Fixing the ship is what you want to do, wasn't it important for you to know what happened? One of them probably slept through watch duty or something and they're scared you'll snitch to the Mothership, which you would, but anybody should if somebody is endangering the lives of the crew.
Whatever, It doesn't matter, you can work with what you have.
You reach the gear room in record time and pull on your spacesuit at a speed that would make a fireman jealous. The airlock is a small, cold cubic room that separates you from the rest of the cabin when you need to go out into space. It's a familiar place, but this time you can't help but worry as the door deals shut behind you.
The force field is down. That means that at any moment, space particles could collide with you or the ship. You tightly secure the tether around your waist and reach out with a shaky hand to push the button that opens the space hatch. The airlock whooshes open and the vacuum whips you from the spacecraft. You'll never get used to that, the way space wants to claw you deeper into its expanse.
The red lights from inside the cabin dance across your helmet, but it's nothing compared to the brilliance of the cosmos. This is nothing like you used to see near earth, or even on the Mothership. There are planets and Stars all around you shining every imaginable kind of color, but the beauty is deceiving. With this many objects comes infinitely many obstacles that your ship must navigate around. Without your ship in working order, you're sitting ducks.
Everybody's life depended on your ability to properly assess the damages.
The thrusters on the bottom of your boots activate, pushing you back towards the ship.
From this angle, the craft looks eerily normal. Not a single dent blemishes the smooth chrome of the left side of the spaceship, and you can even see your ghostly reflection staring back at you.
You give your tether an experimental tug to make sure it isn't tangled, then expertly navigate underneath the ship.
It's the same as the left side, perfectly polished and intact, which only piques your curiosity. What could damage the right side of the ship but nothing else...And how damaged is it to cause that many errors?
When you travel to the right side of the ship, your questions only grow.
It is scorched. Like a loaf of bread if you leave it in the oven too long. The polished metal surface is black as coal and a large scrape runs across the ship from the back fin until stopping just before the front observatory window. If that had cracked, everybody would be dead.
This is especially unsettling because the spacecraft is made of cronium--a substance that conducts 0 heat and physically can't burn--as far as you know. And, while even space junk the size of a grain of sand can be deadly at the speed of light, the force field is designed to deflect anything smaller than a softball. Objects any bigger than that are automatically picked up by the ships sensors and the autopilot changes course.
So whatever passed by was hotter than any lab tests your colony could perceive and too fast for your sensors to pick up.
A particle no bigger than a grain of sand shoots past your head and strikes the ship, exploding in a small puff of smoke.
You wonder what life decisions led you to this moment, tied to a spacecraft billions of miles from earth and weeks away from even the Mothership. You could've chosen to stay on your home planet, despite the nuclear apocalypse, and live out your years with both feet on land. Surely the destruction from the bombs would be cleared up by now.
But here you are, alone and completely at mercy to whatever space decides to throw at you.
You propel yourself closer to the spaceship until you can touch the charred material. Upon brushing a finger across the surface, you realize the black rubs off to reveal flawless chrome underneath.
You navigate towards the removable maintenance panel, and spiritually cross your fingers, hoping that the cronium protected it as well as the rest of the ship. Your heart sinks when you see that the scratch runs straight through it and the metal plate is twisted and nearly cut in half, leaving many of the crucial wires exposed to space. You managed to pry the panel open, but the hinge crumbles, leaving the door floating. You don't have the means to fix that, so you just let it glide away. You probably have a replacement for it anyways.
The state of the interior is horrible. Plastic and metal are melted in a useless melted blob of gunk. You can barely identify the tubes that bring power to the right engine.
Everything has to be completely removed and replaced.
It could take hours to do that, and while the engine is down it can't supply the thrusters or forcefield. Without the thrusters, the ship can't change course, and without the force field, the ship is open to assault from various space junk. One small crack can open up the entire shuttle to the vacuum of space.
The good news is, the only reason the forcefield and thrusters are offline is because they're not receiving power from the engine. Fix the engine problems and you fix all of them.
Something catches your eye. A glimmer, stuck between the melted pipes. You shake your head, thinking it's some kind of reflection on your visor, then lean closer, this is certainly no reflection. It's iridescent-- reflecting brighter than the light surrounding it should and casting rainbows on the surrounding metal.
You reach in and pull it free--only to see that it's...A feather? You twist the delicate thing between your fingers. It's gorgeous, about the length of your palm and shining like a diamond. How could a feather be out here?
Your oxygen beeps, reminding you that your time outside is limited.
You shove the mysterious item in your pocket and zip it tightly for later examination, then rush back inside.
The Commander is waiting for you when you exit the airlock.
"Find anything?" He asks, expression guarded.
"No," You say as you attempt to hurry past him, eager to fix the vital functions.
He grabs your arm, forcing you to look at him, and he squints at you, analyzing your face.
"You didn't see anything?" He presses.
"No, fuck off! I'm trying to SAVE us!" You spit. It must have been a little convincing because he releases your arm, but there is skepticism and fear in his gaze.
Whatever happened to the ship, he's wondering how much you know about it.
The Commander doesn't move as you round the corner, but unease twists your stomach.
The hallways are dark and quiet, aside from the occasional groan and shudder from the ship. You're still traveling at a decent speed through space, because without the systems on the right side working, there is no way the commander or autopilot could safely slow the speed of the craft. Sure, all of the thrusters are off, but in a vacuum you just keep moving until something stops you. Luckily, it's mostly empty out here, so there's not much you could collide with, but it would be days before the mothership receives your SOS, then weeks for a rescue pod to arrive.
Your crew is helpless until you fix everything.
You enter the maintenance room contain all the spare parts. It's always overly warm in here even with the energy core stable and behind thick glass. Pipes and dials cover the walls, all a shiny chrome and leading to various systems around the ship. Everything leading to the damaged side of the ship is sealed off by emergency valves, just as they're meant to do in an emergency. Even though the forcefield and thrusters are undamaged, for now, they'll remain off until you secure the energy source for the engine.
So your only concern is getting that engine working again and that would require some cutting and welding, so you head straight to the back storage lockers.
Luckily you know where everything is due to your experiences patching up the ship. In your backpack, you place thermotubes, pliers, and laser welder. A roll of sealer tape catches your eye, so you add it as well. You can use it to replace the missing panel.
Before you head back into space, you walk to the control room to announce over the intercom that you have to close off the right side of the ship--just in case the crack somehow makes it through to the inner cabin.
When the announcement is done, you expect to hear obnoxious complaints from your crewmates who probably went back to bed, but instead, you're met with silence.
Maybe they're actually doing their jobs. You think to yourself. Then you burst out laughing. They're just ignoring you.
You decide to relay one final message. "I have to shut down the right side of the ship. Your doors won't work, so don't blame me when you get locked in with the power off." That seems sufficient.
On your way to the airlock, you glance down the right hallway just to check one more time for stray crewmates. The Navigator and the Gunner both have bedrooms down there, as well as a kitchen and living area. All the main lights are off, but the red glow from the emergency lights allows you to see that the bedroom doors are wide open and nobody is in the common area. So they must be in the safe room? That would be a smart decision.
The safe room is an escape pod, but it also serves as a container for all food and water. Upon the commander's direction, it can disconnect from the rest of the ship and sustain life for as long as your original mission was planned for. In the back of your mind, you wonder if they'd leave without you if you're unable to fix the damage to the ship.
You suppress that negative thought because they won't have to worry, you've got this. You hurry to get your suit on and set down your backpack to shrug the heavy garment across your shoulders. You reminisce over the memory of your sleek, custom-fit spacesuit back on the mothership. You can't believe Buster is equipped with the oldest, bulkiest suits available. Didn't they land on the moon with these things?
You secure the helmet with a click and awkwardly bend over to pick up your backpack.
You spin around, nearly tripping over yourself in the process, but, nope--it's definitely gone.
Something taps the top of your helmet. You struggle to look up, but your neck movement is too restricted to see. You stagger backward, landing against the wall, and flail to get the helmet off.
Who would be messing with you at a time like this? The navigator pops into your head, with his dopey smile and laugh that only somebody with half a brain cell could produce. He would.
Your helmet pops off and the instant you're breathing the cabin air again you're yelling profanities and frantically searching the room, but all you see are the bare chrome walls of the airlock, and there's no obnoxious laughter echoing down the hallway.
Apprehension twists your gut. Has the stress gotten to you? Could you be hallucinating? You scan the room again, slowly.
There has to be a logical explanation.
You calmly rub your temples and take a deep breath to slow your frantic heart. You definitely packed that bag and took it with you. That's not just something you would imagine.
You unzip yourself from the suit and check the back to make sure that you didn't already attach the backpack without realizing it.
It's not there. Was it possible that you left it back in the maintenance room?
The beautiful chime of laughter fills the cabin.
"Are you missing something, Dove?" An unfamiliar voice calls behind you.
Your head whips around, but nothing is there.
As you're beginning to believe you're insane, you feel something tap your head again. You shriek, hands rising to protect yourself as you crouch to the ground and look up.
A pair of predatory eyes, narrowed to slits and glowing yellow in the dark, leer back at you from inside a vent. Something beautiful and sparkling zips up into the darkness to join it.
"You took something that's mine, so it's only fair I take something that's yours." It says. The eyes narrow mischievously. You can tell from the way every single one of your hairs stand on end that this mysterious being is dangerous.
You wobble to your feet and back into the doorway, not sure if you want to stand your ground or flee. Could your crewmates respond to your scream before the creature kills you? Would they even want to? They'd probably eject the safety pod as soon as they heard a struggle. Maybe they already knew this creature was on the ship. That would explain why they're gone...
"I never took anything from you." You say, surprising yourself with how stern your voice sounds. "Please give my bag back. I need it to fix the ship."
The creature sighs--an astonishingly human sound, and rolls its eyes.
Hundreds of brilliant--things--burst out of the vent. They whip around your hair and flutter past your body, flapping like a whirlwind of papers, then a figure is revealed through the swarm as the beautiful objects collect behind it into two shimmering wings.
The scene before you nearly brings you to your knees. If you ever dreamt Gods existed, this is what you imagined. An inhumanly beautiful man stands before you, with tousled golden hair and flawless, glowing skin. He's completely bare, aside from a blanket of glimmering feathers that cover his lower region and end at his upper thighs, showing off his divinely sculpted torso that no normal human could have, but by far the most awe-inspiring feature are his massive, crystalline wings.
You can feel some writhing against your thigh, and you realize it's your feather from earlier trying to join the others. So you did steal something from him.
His expression is casual, despite the harsh markings around his eyes, but his movement screams predator as he steps forward, sleek muscles rippling, holding your backpack out with a clawed hand.
You instinctively take a step back.
The winged man stops and quirks his head in an inquisitive manner, akin to a dog or bird.
"Do you not want your bag?" He asks. His honey voice sends chills down your spine.
Of course, you want your bag, but you don't trust this situation. Where did he come from? How did he get on the ship?
You swallow and finally find your voice. "What are you? How do you know my language?" You ask, glancing behind you to make sure your escape route is clear.
He rolls his eyes as if such a simple question offends him. "You can call me whatever you like, but it seems the closest word in your vocabulary is alien. Though I like God." He says with a salacious smirk.
The winged man hangs your backpack on the hook meant for your suit and leans against the doorway. Such a relaxed pose is out of place at a time like this. "I'm not from your planet earth. I live out here" He gestures wildly around.
It's as if he can hear your protest before you open your mouth. "And it wasn't hard to learn your primitive language." He hums, "I've been watching your party for quite some time." The same easy smile graces his features.
Every answer he gives just raises more questions.
"How long? Why?" You push.
He groans and rolls his eyes.
"So many questions. How about you answer one of mine first, then I'll answer yours, hmm?"
You hesitantly nod. It's in your best interest to agree with him. You eye your bag, resting just behind him inside the airlock.
His wings flutter with excitement. Apparently getting his way takes his edge off--noted.
"What's your name?" He asks.
The question catches you off guard. It seems so unimportant considering the ship could blow at any moment, but maybe that doesn't worry him.
"Shouldn't you know if you've been watching us?" You counter. You find the courage to take a step forward, hoping to push past him and grab your brag when you get the chance. His pupils narrow, but he doesn't otherwise react to the movement.
"None of the others call you by your real name." He says, the beaming smile gone from his face. "But if you like to be called Dove, be my guest."
You're taken aback. You'd never really considered it, the fact that your crewmates always refer to you as "maintenance girl", but now that he mentions it, that kinda burns. They never even tried to get to know you.
It makes you even angrier that you didn't notice until this stalking alien pointed it out in a hallway blinking red from the ship's emergency lights.
"I don't have time for this--I need to fix the ship." You insist, not even thinking as you walk past him to grab your bag.
You collide with his wing face-first, the feathers soft but surprisingly strong. You rub your nose and glare up at him, but the look in his eyes silences any words before they reach your tongue.
"You aren't ignoring me, are you?" The tone of his voice is too happy for his expression. He looks furious, with eyebrows drawn tight with a small forced smile.
You let out a strained breath. Was it from nervousness or frustration? Probably both.
"I just need my bag so I can go out and fix the ship, then I will answer your questions." You promise.
"Do you not feel safe with me here?" He questions.
You're not sure how to answer that. Of course you don't feel safe. The ship is in critical condition and you don't know what this insane birdman is capable of.
But if you say no you don't think it will end well for you.
"I would feel a lot safer if I could fix the ship." You explain. You force a smile in hopes that he'll let you go.
He leans back, considering it for a second.
"I know a safe place. You won't have to leave." He finally chirps, the sickly sweet smile back on his face.
He grabs your hand and pulls you into the hallway before you can protest.
"What do you mean? Where?" You yelp, but he just reassures you it's safe.
The ship isn't very large, so it doesn't take you long to figure out where he's taking you. The safe room is at the back of the ship on the left side, right behind yours and the commander's bedrooms. If you go there, you know the gunner won't hesitate to shoot you both down. Not that she could save you if she wanted to with that aim of hers.
You dig your heels into the ground to stop him, but between the smooth flooring and his unwilling strength, you just uselessly slide along.
"The other crewmates will see you!" You shout, desperately hoping the idea of facing off against the other crewmates would scare him, but he doesn't respond.
You prepare to awkwardly greet everyone at the safe room, already running through ideas on how to introduce this otherworldly birdman. How exactly do you explain something like this? 'Hey, yeah sorry I couldn't fix the ship, this inane hot alien dragged me across the ship.
You stop at the entryway and said birdman looks at you expectantly.
Oh right, the hand scanner. You reach out and press your hand to the illuminated glass and the door slides open with a satisfying hiss of air.
A blood-curdling scream tears through the cabin.
The safe room is in tatters, with bed sheets and pillows strewn across the floor. The gunner is clutching her arm and backed into a corner, blood running past her hand, alone. She's staring over your shoulder.
And the alien is staring back.
Three crystalline feathers shoot from his wings and pierce her chest with a sickening thud, silencing her mid-shriek.
"Looks like I missed one." He sighs. His tone is neutral, as if he just killed a bug.
Your hand shoots to your mouth, holding back the scream rising in your throat.
The alien storms past you into the safe room and frantically strips away the bloodied blankets and pillows, throwing them into the corner with the gunner's body.
You don't want to stick around to find out what the hell he's doing.
You slap your hand against the sensor to close the door and run. You're about halfway down the hallway when he pounds against the barrier, his furious protests audible through feet of metal.
You're not sure how long that will hold him. You need to find the others. Would the Commander be in his room? It's your only hope.
Your breath is burning, but you can't slow down. When you finally reach the left hallway relief washes over your body, but it's soon soiled when you notice the Commander's door is wide open. He never leaves it open.
When you turn the corner, your suspicions are confirmed. It's completely trashed. Every cabinet has been ripped from its hinges--contents haphazardly strewn across the floor. Your heart sinks when you notice blood splattered across the back wall, shining inky black in the glow of the red emergency lights. All the sheets and pillows have been removed from his bed.
But a body is nowhere in sight, luckily.
You call out to the Commander and Navigator but receive no reply.
The alien's voice echoes through the hallway, distant, but chilling. "You're pretty bold for a snared little Dove."
You creep over to the doorway, avoiding all the loose papers, and peer out into the hallway. It's only lit by red emergency lights, making it hard to see from far away, but considering how reflective his feathers are, you're willing to bet he's searching the right-wing right now. Maybe he thought you'd try to go outside to fix the ship.
You consider your options.
You could try to find a livable planet and land the craft. Then you'd have at least a sliver of hope to escape him, but there was almost no way this spaceship was going anywhere in its current state, and the alien would likely stop you before you could redirect it.
The safe room would be a solid option, but it can't eject unless the commander was present to scan his hand…
You need to keep looking for the Commander.
"You're so cute." A voice chimes above you.
Horror grips your body. You look up to see two burning yellow eyes peering down from the vent.
How did he get here so fast?
You leap to your feet and scramble out of the room, silently begging for a little more time.
A sickeningly beautiful chuckle chimes behind you, then there's a tha-thump as two feet hit the ground. You're fighting for your life and he's enjoying it.
You race into your room across the hallway, sliding your hand across the sensor while you run to close the door behind you. Your heart is pounding in your ears.
You frantically search for something--anything that you can defend yourself with, but you stop when you notice something.
The door never clicked shut.
Turning around, you see a hardened feather holding the door open. Your eyes travel to your pocket, and there is a slash in your leggings where the betraying object had been.
Taloned fingers wrap around the door, then the metal crumples like paper, revealing an obnoxiously satisfied alien.
Feathers shoot from his wings and you recoil, expecting them to dive into your chest, but instead, they strike your clothing and pin you against the wall.
"Caught ya!" The alien says, a mischievous smirk on his face.
"What do you want?" You gasp. Tears threaten to overflow.
His happy expression disappears.
"Did I scare you?" He asks with a genuinely concerned tilt to his head. He's suddenly in front of you, lifting your chin with a talon and caressing the side of your face, turning you around to look for injuries. The gesture is too intimate.
When you don't respond, he continues. "I would never hurt you."
Your laugh surprises you.
"What about the Gunner?" You spit.
"They all deserved it." He growls.
"What do you mean they?" You ask, fearing the answer.
"Your crewmates." He says matter-of-factly, "They were annoying."
You feel as though the use of the word 'were' was intentional.
"You murdered them all?" You cry.
He nods vigorously and smiles as if expecting praise.
"WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT?" you yell.
He recoils, obviously insulted by the question.
"Because you're mine." He states. "Nobody is allowed to hurt what's mine."
"What the fuck do you mean by that?" You say. You try to wriggle out of your feathery restraints, but they hold tight.
The alien's golden eyes meet yours with intense, unreadable emotion, then he buries his face in your throat and deeply inhales.
"Mine." He whispers against your skin.
You stumble over your words and your face flushes, but when his lips press against your pulse you immediately snap to your senses.
"I'm nobody's--alien." You attempt to kick him off and he actually backs away despite your feeble effort. His feathers withdraw with him and you drop onto unstable knees, immediately turning your head to the side to avoid his persistent gaze. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.
"My name is Keigo." He repeats. "And what about yours?"
You want to zip your lips and run away as fast as you can, but that would be a bad idea. Even if you managed to escape, there are only so many places to hide. If you play into whatever this is, maybe this psycho-crazy alien will let you go. He's kept you alive this long, right? Surely he has his own ship to leave on, how else could he be here?
You shakily say your name, and he repeats it, the syllables rolling off his tongue like it's the most sacred word in the universe.
He gives a satisfied chirp, then turns to leave.
"Follow." He demands, and you wordlessly comply.
He takes you back to the Safe Room, but when he looks at you expectantly to open the door, you're paralyzed from the fear of what's behind.
Does he expect you to stay in there with the body of one of your crewmates?
Keigo grows impatient and grabs your hand to push it against the sensor himself. You wince when it pops open with that familiar hiss, but you're once again surprised. The room is spotless, aside from the mound of blankets and pillows in the middle.
A few glimmering feathers shoot from the pile to join their master. So they can move even when he's not there?
"I can feel and hear through every single feather," Keigo mentions.
The alien ushers you into the room, making sure the door is securely shut, before hurrying past you and examining the mound of pillows and blankets. He makes a sound that can only be described as disappointment."I wish there was more."
You can't imagine how big he was expecting the pile to be, considering it already took up half of the room.
"What's it for?" You ask, curiosity getting the better of you.
"It's a nest." Keigo ruffles a pillow and moves it to a new spot.
That doesn't exactly answer your question, but birds sleep in nests--right? Considering his avian appearance, it makes sense. He intended for you two to stay in the safe room for some time, so he must've collected this all here to rest on.
"Why didn't you kill me?" You ask.
Keigo looks up from the nest.
"You're important." He says vaguely. Why doesn't he give more than few-word answers?
"Why?" You snap, instantly regretting the sharpness of your tone.
If he notices your impatience, Keigo doesn't show it. He playfully climbs on top of the pile and pats the cushion next to him, as if he's calling a puppy.
You're comfortable on the opposite side of the room, but you want to remain on his good side. And besides, if it weren't for the giant shimmering wings, talons, otherworldly beauty, and markings, he could almost pass as human.
He happily hums when you take your position next to him and, to your surprise, he holds his arms and wings tight against himself to avoid being in your space.
You focus on twiddling your hands in your lap, but you can feel his gaze on your face.
"I will tell you everything you want to know." He says, leaning forward until he's in your peripheral vision. He doesn't like to be ignored.
"What makes me important?" You repeat, pretending that your fingers are very interesting. "I'm sure that any one of my crewmates was more qualified for whatever you want me for?"
Keigo snorts, a sound that you did not expect from such a graceful creature.
"Why do you think I saved you?" He asks, sincere curiosity clear in his voice.
"Uhmm…" You stall, completely unsure how to answer. Keigo said that he'd been watching your ship for a while, so this whole thing was planned. Or was he a silent observer and decided to just step in when your ship got damaged? You remember that you never figured out what hit you to begin with. The red emergency lights from the main cabin still flash through the window. "I don't know why you saved me." You answer honestly.
"It's because you're perfect." His voice is barely above a murmur as he pulls your hands from your lap. You squeak in surprise, but obey when he taps your knuckles to get you to open. Angry crescents line your palms where your nails dug into the skin from gripping so tightly. He clicks his tongue. "You worry too much."
He doesn't release your hands while he continues. "My people have an extra sense. The closest word I can find in your language is mind-reading, but that's not exactly it."
So he can hear your thoughts? That's a little embarrassing. In order to stop your mind from instantly going to something embarrassing, you think really hard about cheeseburgers.
Keigo gently flicks your forehead. Your eyes snap to him, but your annoyance melts away when you see how warm his eyes are, like pools of honey. "I cannot tell exactly what you are thinking." He chuckles. "I can just feel your emotions. Hungry?"
You rub your forehead and nod, a little amazed by his ability.
A few feathers leave his back and disappear into the storage containers at the back of the room. They soon return with a shake-to-make Spaghetti meal and a bottle of water.
Admittedly, it wasn't a cheeseburger, but it would do. You pour a quarter of the water bottle into each side of the bag, one with noodles and the other a powder that somehow turns into a sauce, then shake it to activate the heat.
You eat as he explains the rest of the story to you. He didn't have a ship at all. His species is perfectly equipped for space travel--hence the telekinetic wings. He said that your ship was the first contact with other life he's had in a while, though it wasn't his first contact with humans. He refused to elaborate on the first time, however. Other members of his species aren't so friendly with each other, especially the females, who were apparently about the size of a small planet.
"So you learned my language just from watching my ship?" You ask, setting the discarded spaghetti packet by your feet. A group of feathers instantly whisks it away.
"Yes." Keigo answers. "I learned many things from watching. For one, your crewmates were filthy." A sour expression scrunches his face, the first unpleasant emotion you've seen during the conversation.
"Filthy…?" You whisper, more so repeating it to yourself than asking him.
"Their minds were corrupt." He says, stretching back until he's laying flat against the nest. "Especially around you. They treated you like garbage. Do you know the kind of thoughts filled the Navigator's mind?" He hisses a word in a foreign language, "I couldn't take any more--I had to save you."
He had to save you? It suddenly clicks--he wasn't saving you from a damaged ship.
He was the one who damaged the ship! Your suspicions were right. The commander's strange behavior, Keigo conveniently popping in at the perfect time. The feather.
"You destroyed the ship." You accuse.
"Guilty." You can hear the smirk in his voice. He wasn't even trying to hide it. "Although, I wouldn't say destroyed--if I wanted, this ship would be dust."
You can't stop the rage that boils up. How dare he barge in when you were handling the situation fine yourself? Sure, they were assholes, but you dealt with it just fine. And they definitely didn't deserve death.
A feather zips past your head, then doubles back to push against your chest. You fall back into the bedsheets with him and his head immediately appears above yours, a halo of light framing his face, the same concern written across his features. "You're upset?"
"You destroyed the ship and killed my crewmates!" You shout.
"I didn't want to," Keigo admits. "I planned to wait until you were farther out--so we would have more time…" He looks like he wants to say more, but his lips part without a sound, concern scrunching his eyebrows.
"More time for what?" You insist.
He nervously looks around the room, for once sparing you from his piercing gaze.
"It's coming too soon." He continues, obviously choosing his words carefully.
Out of the many things you consider this alien to be, nervous isn't one of them.
"Can I show you?" He asks.
You nod, not quite sure what you're expecting, but Keigo leans down until your foreheads touch. His breath pans against your lips, golden locks of hair tickle the sides of your face, is he going to kiss you?
Suddenly, something weird happens. You can feel him. Not his physical body, but his mind. It surrounds you, warm and secure. You can tell it's far larger and more complex than your own.
"I'm going to share what I feel." He says and you give a silent affirmation.
Suddenly, your mind is ablaze. An intense, burning need fills every fiber of your being. A desire to give, to protect, to claim. You can't even hear yourself think. It's all primal, overwhelming hunger.
And it's gone just as fast.
Keigo is retreating and you're chasing after him, hands reaching out for his shoulders.
Before you can touch him, a feather pushes you back to the bed. "If you touch me, expect to be bred."
Suddenly, the hungry feeling pops, as if it were a thin film over your mind, and rational thought returns. You're not sure what emotion takes its place...disappointment?
You can't believe he's able to hold himself back. "What's stopping you from--"
"From taking you here and now?" Keigo completes your sentence. His eyes are no more than slits and his hand is clasped hard over his nose, digging deep white scratches into his cheek. Can he smell your excitement? "I want my dove to be happy. I can feel your emotions, and though there is--arousal, it is not your own. " His chest rises in ragged breaths as if talking is an incredible effort. "I cannot do things you wouldn't like, your mind would stop me."
You consider this. Non-consensual acts affect the mind of both parties in this species?
This thing that's 'coming'… it must be some sort of mating cycle. Why else would his mind be made of nothing but that?
"The male members of my species have a...rut...?" He answers your unspoken question, though his words sound like an inquiry themselves, "when we mature, we must seek out a female to further our population. They will sense our presence, and if they don't like what they feel, they will eat us."
The image of a planet-sized bird woman snapping Keigo up makes you shudder.
"So you must avoid females at all costs then, right?" You ask. Surely if he could restrain himself this long from you, he could ride out his rut alone in space.
Keigo shakes his head. "If we don't mate, we die."
You nearly choke on your spit, "Pardon?"
He answers with an affirmative chirp.
"Couldn't you just…?" You suggestively shake your fist, a blush burning your cheeks as his eyes follow the motion.
Keigo shakes his head solemnly. "We need the presence of another mind--it's complicated."
You sit awkwardly in silence for a moment, then Keigo notices you're still pinned by his feather. His surprised expression is adorable as he lifts the plumage to join his wings.
You decide to remain laying down, finding it easier to focus on the ceiling while you think... So if you didn't get it on with a gorgeous space alien, said space alien was going to die from horniness?
Honestly, you could think of worse things. And as far as you knew...everything he's done so far has been with your best interest in mind, albeit unconventional. But where was he supposed to learn that these things were wrong?
He must've sensed your thought process because Keigo instantly perks up. His eyes sparkle with the intensity of a puppy begging for treats.
With a snap of his shimmering wings, he's upon you.
"Please help me." His plea was little more than hot breath against your ear, "It hurts."
His voice breaks into a whine on that last word as his hips slot between your thighs, revealing just how desperately hard he is for you. Strong arms brace his upper body above you, warm and secure.
Although you're surprised, you can't stop the bolt of fire to your core. All you can feel is him, his arms holding you secure, see his beautiful wings splayed out above you. He smells sweet and spicy--the duality envelopes you.
"Why not you?" He counters, lowering his head to your neck again and deeply inhaling. He shudders, wings twitching, and a humm rumbles his chest. "This is my...first rut," he hesitantly admits, "and I was on my way to find a female when I flew into your ship. I could feel your mind from a lightyear away and it felt so soothing. It felt right. I knew I had to have you or die trying."
Your mind stutters when his lips ghost your skin. They travel up your neck to your jaw, where he places playful nibbles, before continuing higher and stopping just below your lips. His lower body remains perfectly still, but you're suddenly wishing for friction.
He then leans back to peer at you, and If it's possible to fuck you with a look, this is it. His golden irises glow behind thick lashes, framed by those striking black markings and beautifully tousled hair, but his lips are the most alluring feature, soft and slightly parted--waiting. Your heartbeat drops to your cunt.
You can feel his mind again, gentle, reassuring. Is this what he feels when he looks at you? The thought makes you smile. You don't think twice before your hands are traveling up, finding purchase in the soft tufts at the back of his head and pulling him down.
When your lips finally touch, a pleased sound rumbles deep in his chest. The kiss starts curious and hesitant, but grows desperately passionate when he hungrily bites your lip to demand access, which you're more than eager to grant him. You're pleased to find that he tastes sweeter than he smells.
He's smothering you with his body. His wings block out the world and as his pelvis grinds you into the blankets, his hand grasps the back of your neck to hold you in place.
When you finally gasp for air, he hisses in annoyance and presses his mouth against your neck to suck dark hickeys. The swirl of his tongue feels heavenly--far better than it should--as if all of your nerves are singing. Was this hypersensitivity an ability of his?
You don't have time to dwell on it, because his hands are under your shirt, running up your stomach and groping your chest through your bra. You desperately want to help him remove the clothing, but before your hands make it halfway, a group of crystalline feathers turn your shirt and bra into ribbons. The cold cabin is shocking, but Keigo's warm hands and mouth descend on your exposed skin, nipping and sucking one nipple while twisting the other. The movements are sloppy and impatient, but it feels so good combined with his hips slowly rutting into yours that a moan escapes your lips.
Keigo coos and pulls away from you despite your protests, reaching for your sweatpants, sliding his fingers under the waistband, and waiting for your approval before he slides them down your legs. Your drenched panties go with them, trailing a string of slick. Hjs eyes narrow to slits when he sees it and his throat bobs in an effort to swallow.
"So wet for me already." He teases, unable to look away from your exposed cunt. Your face burns as he leans down to lap up the mess you've made. You try to close your legs, but he holds them open, his tongue traveling up your folds before circling your clit and harshly sucking. You arch up into him, but his grab is firm, talons barely scratching your skin--a warning. As he devours you, he makes pleasurable sounds, as if the taste alone is enough to send him over the edge. Even when you whine, already feeling that familiar burning pressure grow, he doesn't let up. It's embarrassing how fast your climax is approaching, but with your senses heightened, you probably would have gotten off on kissing. You try to ground yourself by grasping the pillows, but it's too late, his tongue swirls perfectly and you're coming undone, clenching around nothing, with barely any effort on his part.
He leans back with the smuggest expression on his face and you desperately want to wipe it off, but your confidence drains when your eyes land on his lower body. His stomach is perfectly toned and shiny with sweat, but if you look further, his brilliant covering of feathers parts to reveal a painfully erect cock, pre already beading at the tip. It looks human, apart from a small ridge that runs along the bottom, and it's not overly massive, but it would easily be the envy of any average male and you have no idea how the fuck it will fit inside you.
Keigo's wings perk up, obviously fond of the attention. He crawls back over you and you attempt to wiggle free, a little hesitant, but it only takes one of his hands pushing down in the middle of your chest to stop you. He peers down at you, golden eyes blown wide and lidded with arousal. He can see the worry on your face, sense it in your mind, but he doesn't look concerned. He bends down to nuzzle your neck.
"You can take it, Dove. Be good for me." He whispers hotly against your skin, ending the sentence with a wet kiss to your throat. His hips slowly push forward, parting your legs until his head nudges your entrance. Your fingers dig into his shoulders and Keigo releases a sound somewhere between a growl and a whimper. "You'll look so pretty with my cock fucking you full of brood." He hisses, his hips bucking forward, pressing the tip hard against your tight ring until it pops through with a burning stretch.
"It's too much…" You protest, but your complaint dies on your lips when his thumb slides down to circle your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body as every aching inch slides in. By the time he's hilted, you're filled to your absolute limit, panting and shaking around his cock, the pleasure from the attention he's giving your clit only a small distraction. He pulls away from your neck to admire the sight.
"See? Such a perfect fit." He coos, eyes centered on your connection. When he starts moving, the ridge drags almost painfully along your insides, as if it were trying to hold him inside. You moan when he pulls almost all the way out, if only from freedom of that merciless stretch, but then he slams all the way back in, forcing another pleasured cry from lips. Your apprehension melts as he picks up the pace, discomfort turning to pleasure as he hits all the perfect spots, the ridges deliciously rubbing against your walls. Ripples of pleasure rise from your core again, signaling the second orgasm of the night.
You mumble a mess of fuckyesharderkeigo and he lifts your hips to get a better angle, driving you harder into the plush nest. His wings fan out to frame you, beating with every thrust and casting dazzling rainbows across his skin. He looks like an angel as you take his cock, though the sounds that rip from his chest as you squeeze him are nothing but sinful. It's not long before you feel that familiar heat pooling in your stomach again. He stops his ministrations on your overstimulated clit to grab your hips with bruising force, movements growing sloppy as he chases his peak.
He bends over and sinks his teeth into your shoulder--hard, holding you still as he shoves as far as he possibly can inside of you, kissing your cervix. You cum around him as he reaches what you think is his own climax, but there's no warm burst of seed. Instead, his wings shiver and he groans as the base of his cock grows, impossibly stretching you farther. Your oversensitive walls flutter around him.
"What's going on?" You moan, but Keigo only gives a reassuring grunt, still attached to your shoulder. You can feel his mind again, even more vivid than before--he's happy, giving you praise and saying that this will feel good. You relax and wiggle a little, encouraging him to move, to do anything, but the ridge on the bottom of his cock that was giving you such pleasure before locks him firmly inside of you.
Then he twitches, and a small object slowly slides from his base to the tip, pressing into every sensitive spot along the way. Your mind is hazy with pleasure and confusion, but the reassuring presence of Keigo's mind is back in an instant; an egg, our brood, you hear almost crystal clear in your mind, communicated with emotions far more intricate than words.
Your own response surprises you, humming in approval and run your fingers through his hair, drunk on lust and the smell of sex. Keigo whines into your flesh and bites down harder, drawing blood, as the egg reaches the end of his length, but there's nowhere for it to go. In the back of your consciousness, you grow worried as he tenses and another egg pushes its way down his shaft, but through your aphrodisiac-hazed mind, the pleasure far outweighs the discomfort. The second egg pushes the first against your cervix and your hands turn to fists in his hair, but you're not telling him to stop. A dull ache is all you feel as the egg stretches it's way into your womb, followed swiftly by the second.
You're both panting, sweaty messes, but the air is filled with your strangled cries as those eggs are followed by more and more.
Just when you think you can't handle it, Keigo grunts and hot spurts of cum fill all remaining space and a final, weak orgasm takes over your overestimated body. He beats his wings above you, casting cool air around the room, and you can't resist touching them, between the two appendages where the plumage looks thickest. How can something so dazzling look so soft?
Keigo detaches from your shoulder to release the lewdest moan.
"Careful songbird~those are fucking sensitive." He hisses.
You pull away, fearing you hurt him.
"In a bad way?" You squeak.
"NO," he shouts, a little too aggressively, "You just surprised me. Here--" The eagerness in his eyes is adorable as he guides your hand back to the base. You gently stroke the feathers and he hums. How cute.
Then you look down, and Keigo studies your face for a reaction. You're still connected and everything feels warm and tingly. Your stomach is a little distended, but it's not nearly as big as you expected.
Keigo places a hand over the mound and you wince at the pressure. His eyes are full of wonder and...pride?
"Look what we did!" He smiles, showing those blood-stained canines.
You can't help but smile weakly back at him. Look what we did.
"I can't wait to take him hunting." He cheers. His feathers fluff with excitement under your fingers.
"Him?" You ask, "Aren't there like-- at least a dozen?"
Keigo dismissively chirps and runs a finger from one end of your stomach to the other, following the raised bump of each egg.
"Humans can only bear males, and only the best will grow." He says, "They battle mentally for the strongest mind, then the winner eats the others." He makes a fake jaw with his fingers and exaggeratedly snaps them together. "I won mine, of course." He adds, obviously just taking the excuse of brag.
Your next question dies in your throat when Keigo is finally able to pull out, releasing a gush of your combined fluids that drips between your legs and soils the nest. You attempt to get up, but Keigo gives you a firm glare and gets his feathers to tidy the sheets, then wipes you clean himself with a towel that's whisked out of sight.
Water and another shake-to-make meal appear beside your head. "You'll need your strength." Keigo beams as he slowly guides you to a sitting position. The world spins around you and the shift is uncomfortable, but that pleasant buzz is still shielding your mind.
He watches you intently until you finish every bite and drink the water.
"Do you not need to eat?" You say as you discard the wrapper to the feathers.
The two of you sit in silence for a while, with him rubbing circles on your stomach and demanding scratches behind his wings.
"So you're all better now, right?". You ask.
"I will be once the Mothership finds us." He says, not looking up.
"What do you mean?" You press.
"We're going to wait for the mothership, and then I'll give our babies their first hunting lesson."
"I-I thought you said there was only one wh--"
Keigo cuts you off. "The only one in this batch."
