You love annoying your boyfriend, Keigo—better known as Pro Hero Hawks, number two in the rankings. One of your favorite ways to get on his nerves—or, as he likes to put it, “tease” him—is when he’s out on patrol. You always wait until his shift’s just about over, then you strike.
You throw on your best wide-eyed, flustered look and squeal like some fangirl with an obsessive crush, loud enough for the whole city block to hear, “Oh my god, is that Pro Hero Hawks?!”
Then you start gushing. Loud. Profanities fly out of your mouth like confetti. Everyone turns to look—eyes wide, jaws slack—and you can already feel the heat of his stare. Keigo’s there in a flash, hand over your mouth, feathers wrapping tight around your waist as he lifts you off the ground.
He mutters through gritted teeth, “You’re insane,” while trying to avoid the incoming swarm of fangirls—blushing, breathless, and bursting into declarations of love.
And just as he’s lifting you higher, you mumble into his glove in your sweetest, sultriest voice, “Won’t you sign my tits, Pro Hero Hawks?”
He scoffs. Classic Keigo. “Yeah, yeah.”
You figured that’d be the end of it, like always—a quick getaway, some grumbling, maybe a feather-flick to the forehead. But not this time.
He’s flying fast. Too fast.
Before you know it, he’s landing hard on some random rooftop, hidden away from the street, pushing you up against a stone wall next to a rusted door that probably leads to nowhere. The air between you turns heavy. His golden eyes are sharp. Hungry.
He peels his gloves off with his teeth, one by one, still staring at you like he’s got something to prove. His hands slide under your thighs, gripping the soft flesh and lifting you like it’s nothing. Then he’s biting at your shirt, bunching it up in his mouth before holding the fabric in his hand—exposing just enough to make your breath hitch.
Then, in that cocky, ego-dripping voice of his, he says:
“Yeah, anything for my fans. I’ll sign ’em alright. Wanna use my mouth or my cum—your choice, angel.”
HERE IT IS, THE FINAL PART, I really can’t believe it’s been more than a year since I started drawing this, makes me so happy that so many people liked this AU that for so long Rose and I kept for ourselves, I’m so glad we decided to share it and turn it into this comic, IT’S BEEN SO AMAZING, Thank you all SO SO MUCH from the bottom of my heart for being here and for following this story, you’ve been so amazing and so patient, I’m so grateful I got to make this until the end.
I Part 11.2 I Part 11.1 I Part 10 I Part 9 I Part 8 I Part 7.2 I Part 7.1 I Part 6 I Part 5 I Part 4 I Part 3 I Part 2 I Part 1 I
keigo's hands are large and steady in all the right ways. there's a subtle callousness to them that comes with working in such a physically demanding field for so much of his life, but it made them feel all the more comforting. they're the same hands that clumsily braid your hair from time to time, they're the same hands that press against your chest to feel your heartbeat beneath them, and they're same hands that intertwine with your own in that reliable and firm manner that you've come to love.
normally, keigo's hold is gentle, and you can't ever remember a time where he hasn't cradled you like you weren't the most precious thing in his life—which you are—but right now? the grip he has on you is one that holds nothing but murderous intent, and you're quickly doused with the unpleasant realization that if your boyfriend presses even just one more finger down on his grip, your neck might just snap under the pressure.
"it's just me—" you barely manage to choke out before keigo is reeling back, blinking away the sleepy haze in his eyes before they suddenly widen with a chilling realization that has his entire face paling
you can't respond because you're curled over and gasping for air, keeping a hand around your throat as you breathe in and out shakily, trying to fill your lungs with air again. keigo can see the red imprints of his fingertips from where they were digging into your skin—and the sight makes him sick. he bites back the bile rising in the throat at the sheer disgust at what he'd just done to you before he's up in an instant.
he grabs a glass of warm water from the kitchen before he's carefully tipping your head backwards and instructing you to swallow the water carefully. you do, and soon enough, the ache in your throat ebbs and flows away until only a subtle burn remains. you run a tired hand across your face and turn to look at keigo, but he's pushed himself to the farthest edge of the bed—head in his hands with his back hunched over as he tugs at the dark blonde strands atop his head. his wings twitch as if he's in physical pain, and you turn towards him with a frown
"kei? baby... it's okay—" you start off quietly before he cuts you off
"don't say that." he snaps hoarsely, and you watch him press the back of his hand to his eyes before he releases a shuddering breath. his wings curl further around himself, almost as if he was trying to shrink and disappear forever, and you sigh quietly before shifting towards him until your forehead is pressed against his thigh. carefully, you wrap an arm around his waist
"i shouldn't have woken you up so abruptly... 's my fault, okay? it's not fair for you to take all the blame." you say gently, massaging his thigh as he remains silent, keeping his face covered with his hands. you reach out and gently pry them away, and the look on his face has you sitting up quickly and rubbing a reassuring hand up and down his arm
"i'm so sorry. i don't... i don't even know what to say. i'm not used to sleeping near other people, so when you woke me up i—well, i don't fucking know. my body's just always in fight mode."
keigo notices the way your fingers brush against the column of your throat as you nod at his words, and he turns away in shame, unable to look at you.
"i'm so sorry. i'll go sleep on the couch." he murmurs, but before he can get up, you place a gentle hand on his chest
"kei, that's not how this works. lay down, honey." you say gently, but he's not convinced at all by your words
"we've slept in the same bed together before and we were fine. but now i know i should be more... careful when i'm waking you up. it was just a mistake, you're human and everyone makes them." you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss onto his shoulder as he squeezes his lips together in a firm line, apprehension making him pinch his brows together as his hands remain clenched uncomfortably
"but i hurt you—"
"and i said i'm okay and that it was a mistake. we talked about all the conditions that came with me pursuing a relationship with you, and i agreed knowing this wouldn't be easy. i promise kei, it's okay." you say softly, and his shoulders slump in defeat. he's tired, you know this much just by the creases under his eyes.
keigo doesn't fight when you pull him back into bed. he just wraps his arms around you until your limbs are entangled with his own. his wings wrap around the two of you, and you let out a breathy laugh as they cocoon you in your hold
he whispers a quiet goodnight into your hair, and you murmur your response even softer before you're both drifting asleep. a small step was taken that night between the two of you—small but forward, regardless—but it was all part of the healing process that came with fixing keigo's battered and bruised heart.
Synopsis: Hawks had been one of the most celebrated heroes - until he turned against the Commission and everything he previously stood for. You, a hero sworn to bring him in, quickly discover the roles have reversed: now, he has you, claiming you as his own
Warnings: hair pulling, breeding, creampie, doggy, unprotected p in v, villain!Hawks, dirty talk
Pairing: villain!Hawks x fem!Reader
A/N: welcome to the very first day of Villaintober! I hope you enjoy this little fic - every like & reblog is truly appreciated ♡
⇢ MY HERO ACADEMIA - 3
Shame courses through every nerve of your body. It shouldn’t be like this.
You were the one assigned to capture the villain, to bring him to face justice for his crimes.
How did it come to this, ending with him pinning you to your own bed, cock buried deep inside your quivering pussy from behind? You can’t pinpoint the exact moment it all went wrong. The mission spiraled out of control, and a hard blow to your head stole your consciousness for long enough for him to seize control.
Now, the air is heavy with the musk of sweat when he slams you further into the mattress.
Red feathers litter the floor, a few twitching faintly.
Your bedroom is dim, shadows pooling across the walls, the faint city lights leaking through the blinds, but all you can see are the mattress of your bed and his body - broad shoulders looming above, golden eyes sharp and burning with pure lust, red wings fluttering behind him.
Hawks. Once a hero, now a villain.
He had once been one of the most celebrated heroes, the Commission’s golden boy, until the day he turned his back on them, and on everything he had once stood for. Now there’s nothing left of that man but a shadow draped in crimson wings.
Your back arches off the mattress when his cock shoves so deep it feels like your lungs can’t expand, the rhythm brutal and unrelenting.
And his cock is buried so deep inside you that your cunt is molded around the sheer thickness of him, your body clenching desperately with every brutal thrust that rocks the headboard against the wall.
A ragged gasp bursts free from the pit of your chest.
Hawks only growls low, his fingers tangling in your hair before yanking your head back hard, forcing your spine into a taut arch.
“Don’t swallow it down, baby bird,” Keigo rasps, voice rough, the remnants of his lazy charm nowhere to be found. “You wanted to play hero against me, didn’t you? Hahaha! Let everyone hear how I ruin you.”
His hips snap forward, cock hitting so deep that you feel it low in your belly, a white-hot ache blooming where the tip grinds your cervix. The stretch is maddening, a mix of pain and molten heat that leaves your thighs trembling beneath you, threatening to buckle with every second that drags by.
Hawks doesn’t give you time to adjust, doesn’t let you take a proper breath - he just pounds his rock-hard cock harder, faster, one wing half-spread to steady himself against the wall as his hand digs into the plushy flesh of your ass. “Fuuuuuck,” the villain exhales through gritted teeth, tugging your hair harder until your scalp prickles. He bends low, lips brushing your ear, the predator in him bleeding through every syllable as he speaks in that taunting voice of his, “Your pussy is gripping my cock like you were made for this. Your little hero cunt is begging to be bred by the villain you swore to take down.”
A broken whimper slips out, your breath shattering as nails claw desperately into the silky sheets of your bed. It’s wrong - oh so wrong - yet the betrayal of your body comes swift: slick spilling down your trembling thighs, your inner, velvety walls tightening around his hardness with every brutal snap of his hips.
He chuckles, “So wet for me. Don’t pretend you don’t like it, songbird! You’ve been waiting for this. You’ve been waiting for me.”
The words cut deeper than his thrusts, your chest burning as shame collides with raw arousal.
His hand slides from your hair to your throat, squeezing just enough to make your next moan catch. “Look at you,” Hawks snarls, watching the way your lips part, the way your eyes glaze. “All those nights patrolling, acting like the perfect little savior. And now? Just a whore taking a villain cock in her bed.”
He slams into you harder, his pelvis grinding down as if he’s intent on forcing his cum into the deepest part of you.
Each thrust drags a ragged cry from your lungs, your body trembling under the weight of the villain.
“Keigo!” The name slips out unbidden, an echo of the man he used to be, but he cuts you off with a sharp jerk of your hair.
“Don’t,” Takami snaps, eyes glinting like steel. “That name’s dead. All that’s left is the man who’s gonna breed you until you forget what side you were fighting for.”
He punctuates the words with another savage thrust, and in a second, your pussy is spasming around him. His hand on your throat tightens, then releases, just enough to let you gasp a breath before he steals it with a kiss that’s more teeth than lips, biting down on your lower lip until you taste copper.
The sound he makes when he pulls back is feral, guttural. “God, I’ll ruin you. Stretch this sweet pussy until you can’t take anyone else. Fill you up so full of my cum you’ll still be leaking tomorrow.”
Suddenly, your phone buzzes on the sheets beside your head, the glow of the screen cutting through the dark. Endeavor. The name flashes again and again.
Keigo snarls low behind you, wings flaring, hips slamming forward so hard your body jolts against the mattress. “Tch. Used to think that old man was cool,” he utters, voice sharp with venom, “But now? I think he’s just fucking lame.”
Hawks’ cock grinds deep into your walls, forcing you to moan like a whore. His one hand fists in your hair, jerking your head back as he reaches forward with the other, snatching up your phone without missing a single brutal thrust. Your ass slaps against his pelvis with every drive of his cock.
The line clicks, and Endeavor’s voice is booming through, “Do you have any new information, Y/N? Where the hell are you though?”
Keigo barks out a laugh, pressing the phone to his mouth as his hips grind forward, the fat head of his cock stretching you until your scream muffles into the pillow. He tilts the phone just enough so you can hear every word as his hips snap forward, his heavy balls slapping against the curve of your ass. His voice is a rasping growl, dripping with pure mockery, “Stop callin’ her, old man. She’s busy gettin’ fucked tonight.”
The call ends with a sharp beep as your scream rips into the pillow, Hawks’ laugh vibrating against your back as he throws your phone back on your bed.
Your back arch against him despite yourself, body seeking the friction, the pressure, the overwhelming heat. The shame burns as hot as the pleasure, tangled together until you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.
He notices. Of course he does. His smirk twists, cruel and triumphant. “Knew it. Knew you’d break the second I had you like this. Hero or not, you’re just another cunt begging to be filled.”
He shifts, pulling your hips up higher so your ass tilts and his cock hits an angle that makes stars explode behind your eyes.
You cry out, nails clawing at the sheets. Your mouth forms an O shape.
“Right there, huh?” Hawks grunts, thrusts turning sharp, deliberate, hammering that spot over and over until you’re sobbing into the pillow. “Yeah. I can feel it. Pussy’s milking me like it’s desperate to keep and cherish every drop I’ll give you.”
His words drip into your ears like poison, searing themselves deep into the darkest part of your mind.
The rhythm turns brutal, his pace relentless, hips slapping against yours with wet, obscene sounds.
With every brutal thrust his wings shudder, some of his red feathers loosening and falling, drifting down to scatter across the sheets and your trembling body.
His hand fists in your hair again, yanking your head back until your mouth falls open on a broken cry. “Say it,” Hawks demands, voice dark, “Say who owns this cunt.”
You shake your head weakly, shame scorching your skin, but the next thrust rips a scream from you, and he doesn’t seem to let up.
“Say it.”
Your voice cracks, wrecked and desperate. “You! Hawks!”
“That’s right.” His grin is sharp, feral, golden eyes locked on your flushed, tear-streaked face. “Mine. All mine. And I’m gonna keep you filled until you forget you ever fought me.”
You’ve already come several times tonight, back arching, legs spread painfully, every inch of your body bent to his pleasure, and still Hawks is preparing you for yet another orgasm.
He drives into you with faster, cock burying so deep you swear you feel him in your stomach. The pressure builds unbearably, that coiled heat in your gut snapping as your orgasm crashes through you, body convulsing around him, clenching so tight you drag a savage groan from his throat.
“Fuck, yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ll breed you good, dove!” Hawks chirps loudly, wings flaring wide as his hips slam forward, his cock twitching hard deep inside you. Second later, the warmth of his release floods your cunt, thick and heavy, spilling into you with every jerking thrust as he rides his orgasm out. He holds you pinned to the mattress, forcing you to take every drop of his seed until you’re stuffed full, whimpering as the mixed cum leaks down your thighs, spilling out of your abused pussy, even though you’re still full of his cock.
Your vision blurs at the edges, consciousness slipping, but through the haze of exhaustion and overstimulation, that sound - his birdlike chirp - lingers in the back of your mind. The last shred of awareness latches onto it, finding it painfully, devastatingly cute that Hawks - once a hero, now a villain - lets out a helpless chirp as he orgasms.
“Perfect,” Takami claims, voice low. “Took it all. Gonna keep it in there, aren’t you? Gonna carry my cum like the good little bitch you are.”
Tears soak into the pillow as your body quivers beneath him.
Hawks leans close, lips grazing the shell of your ear, his voice a silken blade as he slowly pulls out of your pussy. “This is what happens when a hero lets her guard down,” he says, dark amusement curling through every word he speaks. “You’re mine. Rest now, little dove. Your wings are clipped by me. You’ll never fly free again.”
love language
happy valentine's day from the league boys (+ hawks)
t. shigaraki, t. todoroki, k. takami, j. bubigawara, s. iguchi, a. sako
the boy's love languages reflected in bed (or a chair). mdni. nsfw. fem reader.
tomura: quality time - cockwarming
Tinny sounds of shots firing echo through Tomura's headphones as his controller vibrates in your hand, his gloved fingers curling over yours, deftly swiping over the sticks and fluttering over the trigger.
"Pull left and aim," his voice cuts through the character's stomping feet on the ground. "Watch your six, Y/N...."
You would be way better at this under better circumstances; that's why he's helping you— his hands on yours, breath curling at the nape of your neck, his cock stuffed deep inside of you while he leads you to a higher rank.
"Come on, you can do it," his encouragement is thin, veiling the way he's twitching and throbbing against every perfect spot, the thickness burning a heavy coil in your core. "Get the kill, Y/N."
He says it with a disgusting level of determination; despite the fact that he's so fucking close and so wound-up inside of you that if he tried, even he would fumble the kill. You can't concentrate either, because every word that comes out of his mouth is so thick with lust that it feels like the fingers working the right trigger are actually pressed into you. You've been like this for almost an hour, running back and trying to level up at least one rank, but it's hard when the length of his cock is repeatedly bullying your cervix with every throb.
It's hard to respond to him, and his grip on your own hands on the controller tighten when you clench around him, leaning slightly and balancing your weight on the desk. He loses his handling of the controller and it falls on the desk with a clatter; your character crouched behind a rock wall. He's not paying attention to the K/D ratio anymore, instead, his hands grip around your hips and he kisses once against your arched back.
This is how Tomura likes having you. Close in proximity at all times; sexual or not. He likes the reminder of your breathing and your scent around him. The cunt gripping him is just an added bonus, but he loves sharing his personal time with you. You're the only one he willingly does that with. He likes you invading his privacy.
With shallow, fitful humps, he grinds against you. Your breathing patterns match up as he fucks up into you, your head falling between your arms and his falling back against the leather seat. You can feel the heat of his cherry stare on your feverish skin, the way he handles your ass like it belongs to him. (It does).
Tomura isn't really considered eloquently spoken, and you knew this before, but right now the words filling your ears are so dirty, it feels like you've unlocked a new level in him.
"Fuck, fuck, god— I can't take it anymore, you're gripping me so fucking tight, I just want to fill your pretty cunt..." He pants and whines under you, burying his cock even further inside with shaky whimpers. "I want to see it drip out of you, Y/N, I can't fucking take it, I can't fucking—"
His two ungloved fingers make contact with your swollen clit, and its game over. He's pressing them against you over and over like he's spamming right trigger, and it feels too fucking good.
He doesn't have to even hear your pitchy moans before he knows you're about to cum, he's memorized your patterns now and he knows that when your hole starts to flutter at the same time as your breathing, it's right there. He speeds up, the chair under the both of you groaning in protest with rocking squeaks, the hardwood under it taking the brunt of the movement from the jagged jerks of the wheels at the bottom of the chair.
"Tomura, Tomu—" is all you manage to squeak out before you're flooding his cock, and he sinks his teeth into your shoulder for stability as you grind, bouncing on his cock for even more. His ragged groans are the only thing left coming from his filthy mouth as you drain the life from him succubus style. You can feel the drool dripping down your back from where his teeth are latched on, he's completely and utterly gone from your cunt.
"God, fuck, I'm fucking cumming, squeezing me like a fucking vice, you fucking jerk—"
It doesn't take him long to coat your insides, rocking desperately while he chases his high. Broken whines crack out of him, and thank god for his gloves, because he's fully braced himself against you with both hands. Despite his raised ring fingers, the trembling of his hands would make it almost dangerous if not for the layer between yours and his skin. The warmth fills you in a way that makes your eyes blur, the only thing left in that moment is him.
The game continues in front of you; he's still shaking behind you when he kisses your shoulders, the earlier aggression rendered down to a sloppy, sticky mess.
“We’ll get it next time”, he stares at the computer screen with a click of his teeth, eyes flashing over the death notice as he shuts the PC off. "I'm not fucking finished".
touya: words of affirmation - praise
"That's it, there you are," Touya's fingers are rough and rapid as they plunge in and out of you, curling perfectly. His teeth nip at your neck, palm hot where he grips you.
"You like it?" his fingertips move in slow circles, his ministrations coaxing a broken prayer into his shoulder.
"It's so good, it's so fucking good, Touya—"
He groans, his lips curling in encouragement as he deftly drives two fingers inside of you now, the palm of his hand slapping against your clit so perfectly, it's like you're made just for him. The way your body molds around his fingers and clenches against his crossed middle and ring is insane.
His lips find yours so earnestly, like he's just waiting for more pretty words to fall past them. Touya likes praise. No, loves it— loves the way you say it's too much, too big, too hot. He loves hearing the soft mewls as you take him, it's like a little gold star for him when he fucks you so good you forget your name.
"Feels s' good, Toy..." you whine into his kiss, and his heart pounds erratically in his chest. He wants to fuck you so badly, his cock is so strained against his jeans, but by god he doesn't want this to stop. You feel him palming his cock beside you only by the ragged motion of his arm twitching, and that alone makes you hump his other hand while those cruel fingers pump into you.
"Fuck me, please, fuck me" it's not begging, really, it's a prayer, your hands tangled in his hair and your eyes dark with euphoria. It's good enough for him, because he's freeing himself from the denim prison and plunging his pierced cock right into you, each metal adornment a punctuation to his claiming of you.
"You take it so well every time, take me so fucking well, Y/N" He sinks into you, breath shaky. His own praise falls like silk on your ears as his cock stretches you further than his fingers, snapping that ring. He moves with slow strokes, breaking you in perfectly if only to hear you fall apart because of him.
You lick against his throat, that deep skin hot and smoky in your senses, your teeth grazing the scars. He hums, so effortlessly into this that it feels suffocating for the both of you. He’s sweating, doing his best to contain the burning inside of him to a dull throbbing heat, and even then his fingertips are leaving little red marks on your skin, a delicate reminder that he’s yours.
“Right there, right—” that’s all he needs to hear to keep steady inside of you, holding the angle of his kneel, slipping a pillow under you to plunge deeper, harder, faster inside of you. The room fills with the lewd sounds of wet skin and ragged cries, an even louder ode to just how perfect he is to you. Your eyes look like saucers staring up at him, little mini-moons for him to focus on; an entire galaxy of pure pleasure created just for him. All his…all his…
“All yours, Touya, ’m all yours”, your eyes flutter when his tip nudges your cervix with a tight snap, and he can’t help but groan at the affirmation. It fills him like a sticky song, a honey-drenched music note that repeats for eternity. “I love you, I love you so much, Toy, you’re so perfect”. The fluttery moans that cushion the blow are making him weak, his thrusts becoming desperate and shallow. You don't even have to think twice about them, either, because it just feels so natural to say.
“Fuck, god-damnit, I love you too,” he snaps his hips once, twice more. He pulls out as fast as he can, coating your stomach and tits in ropes of thick, warm cum. The ladder of piercings glistens with your own essence before its plunging back into you. “Wanna…make you cum…” He’s half-hard, but shivering and trembling, the corner of his eye bleeding onto your face as he tries so hard to fuck you again, to make you feel good. He’s licking the sweat from your temple, nipping against your cheek and ear and lip, his fingers are rapidly working around your clit. He’s rutting into you like an animal now, wanting nothing more than to make you feel good, to be so good to you and for you, even when he can barely see straight.
He breaks you with his fingers and his weakly sputtering length, with a tongue licking hot stripes across your face, lapping at tears and sweat as you pulse over his spent cock, drinking in the sound of your orgasm with his own revelry. His breathing is ragged as he pushes you past the waves, overstimulating the hell out of your trembling body, legs weak and jelly.
“I love you, you’re so fucking good to me, Touya”
“Thank you, thank you, I love you, I fucking love you”.
keigo: acts of service - queening
Keigo's laid out on the bed with a starving smile, eyes half-lidded and fingers pinching into the sheets. Golden eyes follow your every move as you undress, crimson feathers guiding the fabric down your body delicately— he had insisted he help. Your face feels hot, the picture windows of the penthouse feeling scarily revealing, even if you’re so high that only clouds are there.
"C'mere," Keigo coos, "come sit."
You’re not drunk anymore, the effects of the drinks you’d shared earlier wearing off and creating a thick, palpable anticipation. He’s already naked, soft tanned skin delicate against the stark red sheets. If you concentrate hard enough, you can see the sun-kissed freckles on his face and shoulders.
He clicks his tongue, once, the rest of your clothes pooling around your feet.
It's a nervous gesture, but you crawl to him on the bed, hooking a leg over his waist to straddle him. Before you can settle onto his already-leaky cock, his hands find purchase on your hips and hoist you up, past his torso and up over his shoulders. "No—no. On my face, angel".
"Wha—" You try to protest, but his tongue is already sweeping across your inner thigh, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. He's groaning as you hover over him, legs shaking.
"Sit, sit down," the blond beneath you practically begs for it, and when you shake your head, his nails press into your thighs.
"Kei, 'm gonna crush you—"
"If I suffocate and die, I'll have died a happy fucking man, please," his teeth sink back into you, sucking a blooming pink bruise into the warm flesh. He doesn't leave you any more time to protest before his pointed tongue is lapping at your dripping core like a starved man. It's sinful in nature, but it feels so sweet with him, with how gentle he's being as he nurtures your clit with a reverence that's usually reserved for love letters.
You contort your body, leaning and bracing yourself on his upper thigh on one hand while the other tries to wrap around his twitching cock, and the second your fingers wrap around its thick base, he jerks his hips up and snaps your attention back to yourself, riding his face. He pulls off of your center and shakes his head as best he can with your thighs ear-muffing him.
"No," his words start breathless. "Ride my face, I don't want anything else, just this, just wanna eat you."
And yeah, that's enough for you. Your breath hitches, hips driving down to feel the heat of the mouth surreptitiously bringing you closer and closer to cumming all over his face. Not yet; that rope coils and tugs, but soon. His pretty curls are getting fucked up under you, your hand tugging on them for leverage. You put your weight down a bit, and he groans, hips bucking into the air when you seat yourself fully against his drooling mouth, filling the empty space with your cunt. He’s so grateful, he wants to make you feel so good, just wants to taste you cumming on his pussy-drunk tongue.
Keigo does this often, and it never fails to shock you regardless. He loves making you feel good, helping you out, taking a vibrator from your weak hands or kissing against your neck as he fucks you slow, making sure you don’t have to do a god-damn thing. You’re his favorite pillow princess. Even riding him, he’s fucking you so hard from below and cocooning you with his wings. He loves spoiling you— he likes being useful for his girl. Even if it means he can’t breathe right for the ten minutes it takes to make you cum, or cant feel his fingers after teasing your clit.
The thought alone has you dripping all over his lips, his tongue slipping right inside of you. He swallows heavily over and over, the tip of his nose tickling your clit so perfectly, you’re so close, so fucking close. He’s too good at this, and he knows it. You can feel him grinning beneath you, dazed and high on your scent.
He can smell it, he can taste the difference in your sweetness, and the giant red wings beneath him shiver and flap with excitement and soaking arousal. He’s fucking the open air now, the sweetest little growls and chuffs slipping from his mouth when he gets the chance to breathe between grinds. You can’t help yourself, you fuck his face over and over like a little toy, head thrown back in pure pleasure as his pretty mouth makes you cum so hard you're seeing stars. His wings shoot out, curling in at the tip with a flitter, and his untouched cock sputters out, pearly white slicking over his red tip, his stomach, reaching his chest. He makes a mess of the both of you, drinking you in. It’s his favorite fucking taste.
You pull off of him and roll, and he licks his lips, brushing the hair from your face. “Did so good, baby,” he kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his perfect mouth. It has you reeling all over again, you’re not done yet. Keigo sees this, amber eyes locking on yours as he centers himself between your legs again.
“Not done, angel? That’s okay, we have all night”.
jin: physical touch - rough
He’s everywhere all at once, hands groping every part of your body with so much awe it makes you blush. His tongue circles your hardened nipples, sucking on your tits, pumping fingers into your soaking pussy, leaving hickeys all across your skin.
“Jin…”
He doesn’t stop, but he curls his head in to your neck, kissing gently, like he’s hesitating. “Hm?”
His blond hair is already disheveled, his deep green eyes locking on yours as you hook a leg around his waist. He’s taking his time, going so slowly, but you can’t wait anymore. The moment you coax him to fuck you, he’s pinning you, pressing himself against you as much as physically possible.
You take hold of his heavy cock, teasing your own clit with it. He groans, his head falling onto your shoulder, kissing languidly between huffs. “Fuck, Y/N, pretty girl, I wanna…” you can barely make out the tapered, shaky end of his sentence as you slide his tip inside of yourself. The clench of your pussy makes him moan, eyes shooting wide open as you beg for more. He thrusts into you without thinking, driving his hips against yours.
“God, I wanna ruin you— am I hurting you, pretty girl?”
You shake your head. No, if anything, the stretching is fantastic, the scent of smoke and cherry soaking your senses as he kisses you. It’s sweet at first, but then his tongue darts past your lips, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, his hands gripping your plush thighs. His kiss is anything but tender now, its claiming and drowning and so fucking hot. His cock twitches inside of you before he snaps his hips again, wrapping both arms under you in a tight hug.
“You know I love you?” He starts, and you nod, walls fluttering around his size. “I love you, too, I do, I do— but for right now, it’s gonna feel like I don't.”
The warning doesn’t come soon enough, because he’s holding you tight against him and slamming into you now. His cock is bruising your cervix with a rapid, rhythmic thumping that makes the headboard pound the wall. His fingers are holding your sides hard, hes desecrating you, and it feels fucking perfect.
“Harder, Jin, please baby, harder—” the plea doesn't have the time to leave your mouth fully. He’s fucking you like a doll, animal and man all in one. Biting into your neck, groaning into your ear, wrecking your cunt like it’s been his all along. It hurts, but the burn is a welcomed thing; a thing that makes your eyes roll back and your toes curl. You're moaning like a bitch in heat, and it has him so fucking hard he's pretty sure he could kill someone with his cock right now.
His thrusts only gets rougher when he presses you down into the mattress, holding your face to look at him. His lips are on yours in seconds, tasting you, reminding you how loved you are even without words. He loves you like this, loves worshiping you in ways that transcend verbal language, displaying his love with deliberate action. Even if that action means you’ll be walking with a limp for the next two days. He just wants to feel you, your skin, your heartbeat, the warmth of your skin. It’s grounding for him, feeling you.
“You’re so pretty, you’re so soft—I want to break you, I want to fill this pussy up”. The dichotomy of his words, and actions, earns him a flowery moan, and nails raking down his back. He flips you over with one swift toss, the muscles in his arms coiling before they pin you onto your stomach, shoving your head into a pillow as he forces his cock back inside your weakened hole. The prone position has you panting, his cock brushing a whole new spot inside of you as he smacks into it, teeth grazing the back of your neck.
He grips your hips, tugs at your hair, kisses between your shoulder blades— its a sickening mixture of sour and sweet, entirely Jin. The thrusts become maddening, your hands gripping the sheets above you as he fucks you rotten. All while he does it, he’s whispering in your ears how much he loves you, despite the force of his cock inside of you. He’s pumping you dumb, and you can’t help but soak him and leak onto the sheets below you. You cum hard, driving yourself against the springy mattress, and he doesn’t hesitate to fill you right up like he said he would, moaning and panting from behind you. He doesn’t stop until he physically can’t keep going, and flips you back to face him before pressing his body against you again, slick with sweat and sticky.
You don’t have to say anything else. You brush the hair from his forehead and kiss him, over and over, thumb tracing over his scar, just taking him in. His eyes are half-lidded, exhausted, but sparkling with a genuine, perfect kind of love.
shuichi: quality time - sensory play
“I love spending time with you, Y/N” Shuichi confesses as he drags his tongue across your thigh. You can’t see him, but you feel him, soft scales and claws teasing you as his bandana blindfolds you. “Thank you for hanging out with me”.
Well fuck, he makes it sound like a goddamned charity case. Your boyfriend is an idiot. But fuck, if he doesn't make you feel stupid on his dick.
His claws tug at your underwear, slipping them off your body. The air is hot between your bodies, his tongue shooting out to your soaked core once, twice, just to taste. He chokes back a moan, “You taste like heaven,” his tail thumping behind him as if in agreement. He’s got you tied up, hands over your head with his belt against the headboard. His bandana is tied with precision over your eyes, your feet are loose, but that’s only so he can watch you squirm. His breath comes quickly next to your ear, sniffing you and nipping at your earlobe. “I wanted to try something new today, I hope that’s okay.”
It’s more than okay, as he drags a claw between your tits just enough for you to feel the prickle of sharpness. He then licks that same spot, blowing cold air over the wetness. He watches every small twitch from you, and you can only imagine the crimson of his stare as your skin floods with chills.
He grabs your foot, and you flinch; but his mouth works up. He kisses your toes, the sole of your foot, your ankle, your calf, your knee, the back of it, up your inner thigh. Your leg comes to rest on one shoulder; you can feel it, the muscled scales supporting the weight. He repeats the action on the other leg, until your hips have no choice but to be suspended mid-air. Ever the hedonist, Shuichi is, taking his sweet time with you always— it’s something he looks forward to. Learning you is a hobby that he’d gladly spend all of his time on.
“Just want you to focus on how it feels. …How I feel”. He whispers to you, and its much more confident now that his cocks are pressed right against you, throbbing against your waiting center and your clit. He doesn't sink either in, just teases you, slipping the tip of one in and out shallowly. Your hips buck up, forcing more of him inside, the texture too fucking good.
He swallows a groan, tickling down your sides with light scratches. It makes your skin shiver. You don’t know where he is, you don’t know what he’s going to do next, you can’t even see how he looks. Is he going to fuck you? Will he bite, kiss, scratch? The anticipation alone—
His fingers pinch a nipple, and you gasp. The sensation brings you right back to reality. Your his to play with, his to be studied.
“Hmm. I like that noise,” you can hear the half-smile in his voice as his hand pinches the other nipple. He rolls it between them gently, and then you feel his mouth on the other, wet and warm and claiming.
He's so quiet, sneaky even, and with your other senses so enhanced, you can feel every single ridge of his lower cock as it slips fully inside. Every bump along the underneath, the swelling and tapering of it as it fills you. Your hands pull at the restraints, nails pressed to your palm. The stimulation from Shuichi’s cocks alone makes the bandana over your face soak with tears, because every slow thrust is a new wave of euphoria. The other one mushes against your clit, slapping at a perfect rhythm that makes your toes curl beside his head.
If that wasn’t enough, he’s tracing little shapes across your body, humming to himself like he’s pleased with the reaction. “You’re so sweet to me, thank you for letting me try this” he kisses your neck, his mouth nudging against you so softly it feels like a nervous action; despite the fact that he’s nestled inside of you so tightly.
You whine, hips bucking. “Shu, please—”
He huffs out a breath, cock twitching inside of you. He shivers once, like he’s holding back only a little bit, before driving himself straight into your core to the hilt. Scaled hands with soft palms grip around the plush of your ass, holding your hips steady before going deeper, harder, moving himself without that previous nervous restraint.
His breathing quickens against yours, the top cock nudging your clit over and over until you cum around the bottom, clenching and grinding your hips up with pretty cries. He doesn’t stop, he just keeps going and going— sending you way over the edge, overstimulating every nerve in your shaking body.
You break harder the second time, and he’s tearing that blindfold from your face so fast so that he can make eye contact, deep crimson glazed over with pure adoration. “Fuck, oh my god—” the shock in his voice is thick and honeyed. “You’re so beautiful, ohmygod I’m gonna cum—” The cock pressed into your clit finishes with a shiver, and without warning, he floods inside of you with whimpers and groans. It’s such a cute sound, despite the sharp teeth and dark eyes, and it has you cumming for the third time, your body trembling mid-air, your legs pulling his face in closer so that your lips press against his.
You both heave, he undoes the belt on your wrists— he had forgotten they were even tied, honestly— and brings you in to hold you there, just listening to each others breathing, absorbing each others warmth (and shivers).
atsuhiro: gift giving - cock ring
“For you, my love”.
There’s a small black box in front of you, velvet and wrapped with a neat yellow ribbon. You crack it open gently, and inside is a single pink marble.
You pick it up, turning it over in your fingers before looking back at him. He takes it from you, closing his fingers around it until it blooms out into a two-piece sleek black toy.
He presses it into your palm, the ring piece thick and light all the same— and the other piece to the toy is in his hand still. He fiddles with it, clicking a set of buttons and turns the ring on. It comes to life effortlessly, vibrating with a tantalizing pattern.
His hands are undressing you slowly, the scent of cloves and oud on his skin filling you. His kisses against your back are light, fluttering things; a prelude.
He has you laid out on silk sheets in mere seconds, and the cock ring in your hands is still on when he takes it from you and slips it over his length, displaying it for you with starry eyes. You watch him stroke himself off a few times, his brows furrowing in concentration before he returns his attention to you, cock now vibrating at the same pace as the toy— and by god, does it feel good when he grinds between your legs.
“Would you like to try it?” he whispers in your ear, and your quick response makes him laugh a beat. “So excited for me, my love”.
He takes his time, which is so perfectly on brand— pressing kisses in the dips and curves of your body, places you wouldn’t expect lips to fall on. The conch of an ear, the dip of the clavicle, the apex of your fingers and the small of your back. He holds you in his lap, a set of two lovers, the vibrations sending chills up through your core all the way to your breastbone.
Atsuhiro is a generous partner. There are fresh flowers on the vanity every week, or a little love note on the mirror. He likes to spoil you when he can; and when he can’t— he finds a way to do it anyways. This reflects in the way he makes you cum; the way he pays rapt attention to your body and its needs, delivering orgasm after orgasm because “my love deserves it”.
His thin fingers are tracing lazy lines across the small of your back while his tongue is tasting your mouth, low sounds of pleasure in his chest. You pull away only for a second to see his flushed cheeks, his syrupy eyes half-lidded, batting slowly. “You look so handsome like this,” you kiss at his neck, and it makes him throb against the ring so hard that he moans.
The sensation is too much for either of you to ignore it any further. Your legs, on either side of his hips, wrap around him as he pulls you into his lap, sitting you right onto his thick, pleading cock. It doesn’t take any time to adjust because of the vibration— and the pulsing inside of you has your head thrown back in seconds, his fingers coming to wrap in your hair. You and him rock in time together, grinding and pumping and panting in sync with each other.
“That’s it, how does it feel, lover?” He purrs, voice dripping saccharine. You can’t answer with anything more than a desperate fluttering of your cunt, and he takes that as a high compliment. To leave you breathless is his favorite reaction, to watch the awe flood color onto your cheeks and nose.
“‘S Good, I really like this,” you manage to squeak out into his shoulder, and he hums to himself before undulating deeper and deeper against your core; pressing the vibrating base right against you. He peppers your neck in sloppy kisses, driving himself as close as he can; tip nudging against every perfect spot as it rocks in and out in short bursts.
He lays you on your back, all while keeping his arms around you; pressing you like a lotus flower as he drives himself in even deeper, kissing your cervix in rolling waves. His breathing is picking up, and the grinding of the vibrator is too much, paired with how deep he just seated himself. You bite your lip, and he kisses it instead, slipping his tongue into your mouth just in time to feel the warmth of your moans against it. He keeps that agonizing pace still, your walls clamping around his amplified cock; your eyes roll back.
“Fuck, I’m cumming, I’m—”
“I know, my love. Keep going for me,” he encourages you; still holding you tight, your bodies fused together deliciously. Pretty mocha curls are becoming sticky against his forehead, his breathing becoming shaky and desperate as he chases his own orgasm with a newfound willpower. The ring is holding him just tightly enough to make it harder for him to fill you up, despite how badly he wants to— but the pleasure is something even he can't complain about.
He lets you cum as many times as you need to— that is, probably around four times in different positions— until he yanks the ring off in a bamboo position and cums desperately across your tits and stomach, his chin falling into his chest as he watches his needy, swelled cock explode in spurts of pearl.
He wipes you down with a soft cloth, kissing the slightly-sticky spots after each swipe. His face is still flushed and his chest still erratic with broken breaths, but he takes care of you first; because being able to provide for you is a gift on its own.
TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab (keigo does talk ab making you a mommy tho, and you refer to yourself as his girlfriend once), reader is a civilian, this is pre-war, reader and keigo are dating, no lube no protection (all night all day), baby trapping lowk????, idk he nonconsensually cums in you and then proposes (you accept tho), creampies, cockwarming, kinda lazy ending?? idgaf
GENRE: smut
SUMMARY: it’s the start of mating season and keigo had just saved a mother and her child at work today, so it’s only natural for him to come home with the overwhelming need to knock you up.
WORD COUNT: 2.6K
🦊’s A/N: keigo they could Never make me hate you…. anyway hope yall enjoy this fr
not only was today the first day of his rut, meaning his last day of hero work until the spring was over, but he had also gone out of his way to save a mother and her crying child while off-duty. he’d been heading home after an eventful and tiring patrol when he ran into them being threatened by a petty mugger—nothing he couldn’t handle, especially after the day he’d had, but he can imagine having a gun pointed to your face must be scary to an untrained civilian. now, he was brimming over with emotions, barely keeping his cool as he walks through the threshold of your shared home, slamming the door loudly behind him, wings all puffed up and ruffled.
“keigo? honey, what’s wron—” you’re suddenly cut off by a small flurry of his feathers sweeping you off your feet and carrying you from the kitchen towards where he stood in the living room, in the process of stepping out of his boots and shrugging his jacket off. you’re immediately taken aback by his serious demeanor and you open your mouth to say something, except that no words come out. what should you say?
“how was your day..?” you ask tentatively after a brief moment of silence.
rather than verbally answering you, he lets out a long, drawn out sigh and shakes his head — a response you’re unfamiliar with. usually, he isn’t afraid to yap for at least fifteen minutes about how his day went, what happened, and sometimes even the people or fellow pros he talked to! so for him to remain silent…. well, it’s safe to say you’re starting to get worried.
had you done something wrong? was today exceptionally challenging? your heart rate increases as your anxious thoughts swirl around in your foggy mind, and you don’t know where to go from here.
keigo knew what to do, though; he knew exactly how to relieve this stress.
taking a step in your direction, he narrows his eyes, intense, predatory gaze locked onto yours, and suddenly, he’s leaning in for a kiss as he backs you up against the nearest wall.
the way he kisses you is controlled and barely put together, and you can tell he’s on edge, like he’s about to snap, so you say what you think he needs to hear.
“you can rough me up a bit, kei, i promise i won’t break.”
his eyes fly open at your words before narrowing as he nods before leaning back in with much more passion and any restraint right out the window. but he himself has said it before, he’s awful—he has no self-control; something that rang especially true when it came to you.
he’s spent whole evenings with his head buried between your thighs, eating you out until you’re crying and begging him to stop, saying it hurts, it hurts!, to which he always asks you for just one more. “one more” never meant one more, of course—keigo was greedy in this sense. he could never seem to get enough of you, always wanting more, more, more. if he could, he’d devour you whole, make you his entirely, and—that’s exactly what he was going to do tonight. he had been planning to propose for a while now, anyway. he had a ring and everything! he’d.. just been working up the courage to ask. so, then what better way than by deciding to knock you up on a whim.
well, …was it really a whim if he had fantasized about it before? the two of you had been dating since the summer of last year, meaning you haven’t seen him during his ruts yet, and, while he’s mentioned it briefly in the past, he didn’t actually expect to last this long with you so he never divulged the details of it—not because he wasn’t in love with you, but because he gave up on the dating scene because he’s always the one being dumped for being so. so. !!!! outwardly nonchalant about most things! or being married to his work, whatever they meant by that; he only worked so hard so he could have a future to relax in! no one ever seemed to understand that…. until he met you.
something just clicked between the two of you upon your first meeting—you were probably the most interesting person hawks had ever saved, be it your quirk, your personality and mannerisms, or even something as simple as a remark you had made in the five something minutes it took to save you; he found himself unable to get you out of his head for days afterwards, eventually causing him to seek you out to ask a bewildered you on a date—just one, he had originally said.
you said yes immediately for a multitude of reasons—he was fine as fuck, he’d literally saved your life the other day, not to mention he was witty, and spoke his mind, too—something keigo hadn’t been expecting. he knew all of the above things, and yet, found himself somewhat nervous as he handed you a bouquet of pale red carnations, red camellias, and baby’s breath. he’d stayed up all night researching flower language and symbolism, deciding on the perfect ones to give to you, as he knew it was rude to show up to somebody’s house empty-handed, and, also, because… he’d never really felt this way about anyone before. there was something so magnetic between the two of you….
but that’s enough reminiscing—he needs to be in the present moment, needs to focus on fucking you so good you go braindead on his dick, focus on cumming so deep in you, there’s no way you couldn’t not be pregnant with his child. keigo understood that having children as the number two pro hero would be no easy feat, but he thinks with you by his side, he can do anything.
sliding his tongue over the seam of your lips, one gloved hand comes up to squish your cheeks enough to force your lips to part for him and he easily slips the wet muscle into your mouth, taking his time sliding it along the insides of your cheeks, the grooves of your teeth, and the roof of your mouth, carefully exploring every inch and committing it to memory (as if he hadn’t already).
meanwhile, his other hand settles on your hip, massaging it lightly for a moment before his grip quickly tightens and he’s coaxing your tongue out of your mouth and into his as he begins to suck on it.
“mmh,” you hum pleasantly, starting to drool as you let keigo decide how to use you in order to relieve his stress.
“missed ya t’day, dove,” he murmurs against your lips before nipping at your tongue and you feel your heart flutter. what had gotten into him? you weren’t necessarily complaining, but you still felt a little worried about him if you were being totally honest.
keigo, sensing your unease, slowly pulls away from the kiss to ask if something was wrong, just for you to deflect the question back onto him.
“‘m fine, it was just a long day is all,” he tells you in earnest, leaving out the part about the beginning of his rut. “need’a feel you s’bad, though,” he breathes out, moving to kiss you again; tilting his head, he slots his lips back over yours, and it feels like he’s going to eat you alive. and, truthfully, he just might.
before you even realize what he’s doing, he’s picking you up, wrapping your legs around his narrow waist, and carrying you into the bedroom where he’s pinning you to the mattress, wings spread wide for you to admire as you look up at him. you’re sure his words held a bit of truth to them, but he was behaving a little oddly for reasons you couldn’t put together yet.
him being a horny little shit wasn’t the unusual bit, but rather, his upbeat demeanor was nowhere to be found—even if it was an act almost all the time, it still felt weird to see him so serious looking.
“kei…”
“shh, stop worrying, sweets,” he shushes you, leaning in for another hungry kiss. you oblige him of course, parting your lips and poking your tongue out to meet his as you close your eyes
his large wings create an almost dome around the two of you, shutting out the world, only leaving room for the two of you, and not another soul.
perhaps it would be best to sit back, relax, and let your boyfriend play with you… so that’s exactly what you do, settling fully onto the soft bed and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in closer—something that had him smirking against your soft lips.
it’s not long before you’re both naked, having grown too hot for the unnecessary layers separating your bare bodies, and soon, you suddenly have a pillow tucked under your hips, keeping them at an angle—something that confuses you.
“keigo?”
“just relax, dove.”
he leans in closer, bringing his lips to yours as his one hand grasps at your hip, blunt nails (that he has to trim daily, mind you, lest they grow into talons) digging into the tender flesh there while his other grabs at his leaky cock, tapping it against your clit a couple times before lining it up with your slit and slowly pushing in, doing his best to show restraint and not bottom out in one fluid motion. you both groan at the feeling, the stretch so deep you almost feel nauseous.
bringing two fingers down to your pulsing clit, he rubs semi-rough circles against the little bud, trying his hardest not to overwhelm you, but needing to hurry up and get you off so he can stuff you full of his cum.
“mmmh,” you moan quietly as he focuses on working you up to your first orgasm out of many for the long night he had planned for you.
it’s not long before you’re cumming with a cry and suddenly, keigo’s got his dick lined up with your slick little hole, easing himself in as he bites his bottom lip, trying not to whimper.
“fuuuck, you’re so tight, sweets,” he groans, rocking his hips into your, unkempt pubes brushing against your neatly trimmed ones.
your hands come up to wrap around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer, before you’re tugging at his wings, and you feel his dick twitch inside you.
“don’t,” is all he’s able to get out, burying his face in the crook of your neck, where he begins sucking and biting at the skin there.
“why not?” you grin like an idiot, already knowing the answer. you knew damn well just how sensitive keigo’s wings were—already having had this discussion when you first started having sex and you went to grab at them for the first time.
“don’t ask stupid questions when you know the answer, dove,” he warns.
you, ever the brat, decide to start stroking on his wings, and you feel his hips stutter and teeth sink into the column of your throat.
“nngh–!” you whine, tugging on the bright red feathers. keigo moans loudly at this, and quickly grabs the backs of your thighs to fold you in half and start fuckin’ pounding into you—his thrusts are fast and sloppy, and the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin turns you on even more, pussy drooling around his dick.
it doesn’t take long before keigo’s cumming deep inside you without warning, something that has your eyes flying open.
“k–keigo–! y– you just— you..!” the words aren’t there as panic begins to settle in. something you had both agreed on before you started fucking was that even if you did it raw, he had to pull out—kids were a big no for the both of you.
but here was your boyfriend, fucking you throughout his orgasm and working his way up to a second as he looks down at you with a gaze so intense, you feel small beneath him.
tugging at his wings again, you cry out his name as he fucks his cum into you, just for him to ignore your pathetic mewls and pleas.
“k– kei—!”
“gonna knock y’up so good—g’nna— fuck— g’nna make you a mommy—”
your face flushes deeply at his words—is this what had gotten into him? the urge to breed you? knock you up?
“f–fuck!” you pull at his wings, rolling your hips upwards as best you can as he desperately ruts into you. this triggers keigo’s second orgasm, his pelvis pressing flush against yours as he cums hard.
“nngh—! hnnmg—fuck,” keigo moans as his hips still while he spills another load deep within you. “shit— y’feel so fuckin’ good, baby—”
this continues for what seems like ever, but in reality is maybe fifteen minutes of your boyfriend fucking into you until he physically can’t cum anymore, until tears are running down his cheeks from how overstimulated he is, and he’s collapsing on top of you with a tired sigh.
“k–keigo— we— we can’t—” can’t what? “‘m gonna get pregnant— y’gotta let me get up,” you try to say, shoving at his chest; but it was no use, he was dead weight.
“good,” he says breathlessly, nuzzling his face into your neck.
“n–no! not good! i— we’re only dating! what would the media think if they found out the number two pro hero went and knocked his girlfriend up?!” your concern is genuine, but also stems from selfish reasons. you’re sure the reporters would hound you the moment they caught a whiff of something fishy, and—
“then marry me.” his words are so serious sounding that they immediately break you out of your own mind and your eyes go wide with shock and awe. had he seriously just. proposed?! while still being balls deep in you!?
“huh!?” you sound just as caught off guard as you look, and keigo cranes his neck up to look at you, expression the most serious you’d ever seen it. …okay, so he obviously wasn’t joking around, but, but–!
“you heard me. …i’d been meaning to get you a ring for a little while now, but couldn’t find one i thought you might like, so…..” his cheeks are flushed and face sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead as he gazes at you so tenderly, your heart can’t help but feel full.
“i— keigo, i…” he waits patiently as you fumble with your words. “yes,” finally falls from your lips, a grin tugging at the corners of them.
unable to say anything else, you cup his cheeks with both hands and press kisses all over his handsome face before you slot your lips over his and lean in slowly, almost teasingly.
keigo, ever impatient, leans in to close the gap, one large hand coming to cradle the back of your head as his hips twitch and he pushes further into you, causing the disgusting amount of cum stuffed in your cunt to form a creamy ring around the base of his cock, and drip down to your puckered asshole. after that, it doesn’t take much longer for keigo to fuck you both to sleep.
and that’s how you found yourself in the exact same position one year later, having put your first child to bed no less than an hour ago, with your now husband pinning you to your shared mattress, talking about how he wants a second kid—how beautiful you looked pregnant the first time, and how he’d love to see you like that again. so, he makes it happen. and then one more time after that.
“Baby,” Keigo chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief, “it’s gotta come off, I’m sorry.”
He’s not exactly surprised this is your reaction, he’s had his beard since the day you’ve met. Every cuddle you’ve shared, every word he’s spoke to you, every time you’ve looked at him, his facial hair has been there.
And now he has to shave it off.
You pout softly, “but it’s going to be so weird without it…”
He quirks a brow, “you’re not with me just for the facial hair, right?”
“No, but it does help!” you assure.
He snickers and shakes his head, “and now your loyalty is being put to the test. It’s going.”
“Fine,” you grumble. Then, you purse your lips out for a kiss, “one more kiss? Before you ruin my fun?”
“Dramatic,” he snickers, leaning down to indeed press a kiss to your lips. You toss your arms around his neck to keep him close, and he smirks as he grips your cheeks to hold you.
He entertains you for a bit, before finally pulling back with a sigh, “say goodbye, baby.”
You pout, “goodbye, the Keigo I know and love.”
“You’ll love me beardless too, I promise.” At his words, you pull a face, and he chuckles with a pinch of your cheek, ignoring the bats of your hands.
With that, Keigo traverses down the hallway.
He can’t remember the last time he was clean shaven, it was far before he met you for sure, but the idea is slightly daunting in of itself. But it’s been so long, he’s gotta start fresh, and with a roll of his shoulders for confidence, he picks up the razor and gets to work.
The process doesn’t take long, a couple of nicks on his lip from the lack of experience, and within a few minutes, the deed is done.
You’re going to be pissed.
“Babe?” He calls, swiftly exiting the bathroom.
“No.”
He chuckles, “I’m coming out. Be ready.”
“Stay in there.”
He exits the bathroom swiftly, and when you see him in your peripheral, your hands immediately fly to your eyes to cover them.
“You want to see it?” He asks, and with your hands childishly covering your eyes, you shake your head. He snickers and shrugs, “well, you’re going to see it at some point.”
“No I won’t,” you argue. “I’ll cover my eyes forever.”
“What about the kisses that you beg and plead for? Won’t those pretty hands get in the way?”
You whimper in your throat before sighing and taking your hands off of your eyes, your eyes immediately darting in search for his beard and your face scrunches.
“Ohhh, it’s a baby!” You pout, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. He laughs as you whine, “god I’m dating a baby!”
“Don’t say that, it sounds bad.”
“Keigooooo,” you whine. “If you clench hard, will it grow back faster?”
He tips his head back in mock thought, “no. I don’t think so, angel.”
“Will you try?” You plead.
He sighs dramatically before looking down at you in amusement. “You know what? For you?” He leans down to kiss you again.
