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.”
Hawks x Reader | Taking Care of Hawks after a Tough Mission
It's the middle of the night when he gets back from patrol, using the spare apartment key you gave him. He usually goes back to his own place after work, but tonight he's seen some terrible shit and is in need of some comfort.
You hear the door open with a creak, waking you up from a sound slumber.
"Hey sweetheart, it's just me." You hear him call out softly, shutting the door behind him and tossing his bag on the couch with a quiet thump!
You rub the sleep out of your eyes, smiling lazily as your boyfriend shuffles into your bedroom. Your smile faulters when you see how awful he looks - ruffled and bandaged and bruised.
"Keigo, what - !?"
He holds up a hand to stop you, and lets himself fall into your bed. You gather him to you, a mess of bent feathers and mottled skin.
"I took a few hard hits." Is all he tells you as he snuggles his face into your chest. "Needed to see you."
You coo over him, carding your fingers through his thick hair as he tries to sink into you.
"You're okay now, babe. You're okay." You repeat over and over, grounding him. You don't realize until much, much later that he was crying.
OKAY IVE BEEN IMAGINING A HAWKS X BAKUGOUS OLDER BROTHER READER?? okay but here me out bro, reader has been dating hawks for a while now, occasional family dinners at readers house with his parents, not brother, due to the fact that he’s training.
reader never brought up the fact that his younger brother goes to ua, and hawks never said anything about teaching 1a gym time-to-time, one day, reader goes to pick up katsuki early from school, and he realizes hawks is teaching, basically how everyone would react to one, finding out bakugou has a brother, and two he’s dating hawks??
(ps, hawks knew of readers last name, but never thought anything of it,)
big bro
keigo takami x male! older bakugou brother! reader
genre: fluff and slight crack oneshot (1,300ish words)
notes: i’m not a massive fan of how i wrote this (i don’t think it’s very good) but it’s been sitting in my drafts for months so here you go
synopsis: reader is katsuki's older brother who is dating hawks -- katsuki doesn't know reader is dating hawks, and hawks doesn't know katsuki is reader's brother.
it stays that way until reader has to pick up katsuki from school early while hawks is teaching.
masterlist | make a request
Principal Nezu is shorter than you expect.
You expected him to be a man-sized rat, not a rat-sized man; though you suppose that isn’t an apt description either, given that he’s at least 2 feet tall and most rats aren’t 2 feet tall.
Regardless, he's still pretty intimidating when you run into him in the hall and he starts to ask you what you're doing.
"I'm looking for Bakugou Katsuki -- uh, my little brother. My parents wanted me to pick him up early since we're leaving today to go on a trip." Nezu seriously makes you nervous.
“Bakugou Katsuki is in Hero Training as of right now. You’ll be able to find him in the gym!” He smiles at you, teeth surprisingly white for a rodent. “Make sure to alert his teacher before you leave,” Nezu continues, an unnerving glint in his abyss-like eyes. You decide not to ask why he knows Katsuki’s timetable by heart.
“Sure. Thanks, Principal Nezu,” you smile, offering him a handshake kindly.
“Anytime, Bakugou-san.”
As you step into the gym, the first thing you notice is the smell of sweat. That, and the temperature. Despite the amount of heat emanating from the fire quirks of a select few and the body heat of everyone in the gym, it’s — surprisingly — rather cool. UA's unflinching ability to invest copious amounts of money into air conditioning was impressive. Your eyes trail across the sweeping ceilings and expensive equipment, whistling lowly. I should come here more often.
1-A looks to be split into pairs — sparring, maybe? — each student difficult to view clearly under the thin blanket of steam and smoke that surrounds them. Katsuki, however, is easy to spot among them. His explosions light up the room, the sound of the loud booms only rivalled by his rage-fuelled yelling. You watch, amused. Glad he’s… letting that out.
As much as you didn’t want to interrupt class (the idea of 20 different teenagers having their undivided attention on you was a terrifying thought), the teacher was nowhere in sight and you were running out of time. “Katsuki!” you call, waving at the angry red glare that lands on you. The boy, in response, rolls his eyes snidely and stays rooted on the spot.
You sigh. Little brothers are so goddamn annoying. “Let’s go, dude,” you urge, emphasising your words with a vague ‘hurry up’ gesture. He scowls, but obliges nonetheless, walking slowly over with his hands shoved into his pockets. Once he's in front of you, he stops.
“My teacher isn’t here. I can’t leave yet.”
“Isn’t it their job to, you know, teach? Where the fuck did they go?” You furrow your brows.
“Fuck if I know,” Katsuki responds, matching your curses with equal indifference. “He went with Deku to go and get something.”
“Izuku’s here?”
“Why wouldn’t he be, dumbass? He’s in my class.”
And that’s when you notice the rest of 1-A. 18 pairs of eyes stare at you in utter shock and confusion, burning with questions. Your body stills, awkward under their gazes.
“Is that… your brother?” a red-haired boy with sharp teeth asks, looking between you and Katsuki slowly.
“Yeah,” Katsuki replies nonchalantly.
You take in the other boy's appearance: the insane amount of gel in his weirdly-styled hair, pointed teeth and the fact that he was sparring with Katsuki. Close friend, bad hair?
“You must be Shitty Hair.” you say, prompting half of the class to erupt into giggles. Vaguely, you recall his name is Kirishima, but Katsuki says it so rarely that you barely even associate it with him. ‘Shitty Hair’ blushes at the attention, nodding bashfully with an awkward smile. He rubs the nape of his neck, glancing once again between Katsuki and you.
“I can see how you’re related,” he laughs uncertainly.
“I can see who got the good genes,” a pink-haired girl with horns calls, “clearly not Bakugou.”
“YOU WANNA SAY THAT AGA—”
The doors slam open. You first see Izuku, who pauses at the commotion, and behind him you see… your boyfriend? What the fuck?
“Keigo?”
“[Y/N]?”
“[Y/N]-nii?” Izuku adds.
“Nii?” someone whispers in confusion.
“Hey, Izuku,” you respond weakly.
Silence falls. You take a moment to appreciate Keigo in his hero costume before the dots connect and you turn to Katsuki accusingly.
“He’s your teacher!?”
“He’s your brother!?” Keigo counters.
You turn to your boyfriend. “I told you I have a brother. You know my last name. You’ve literally met my mother and she’s the carbon-copy of Katsuki. Keigo, what even?”
“Er, well, in hindsight, maybe you’re right— but... you’re so nice,” he says, disbelief evident in his wide eyes and confused brows. “And he’s so… not—”
“The fuck did you just say—!?”
“Young man, I will give you a detention if you swear at me again,” Keigo says sternly, schooling his face into something unnaturally serious and crossing his toned arms over his chest. You can see the humour dancing his eyes, prompting you to chuckle quietly.
Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Yes, Hawks-sensei,” he mutters, face contorted into a scowl. He angrily taps his shoe on the ground.
“Stop being a shit,” you chide, grabbing Katsuki by the shoulder roughly and rubbing your knuckles into his skull. The rest of 1-A watches on in absolute disbelief. (Except Izuku. He’s used to this.)
Katsuki groans exasperatedly, “You stop being a shit.”
“Hey!” Hawks gasps dramatically, “don’t call my boyfriend a shit!”
Silence.
You rub a hand over your temple in an attempt to ease your oncoming headache.
“YOUR FUCKING WHAT?!”
“Katsuki—”
The rest of 1-A is left in shock. (Including Izuku, this time). Some start yelling, some look like they’ve turned to stone, the usual. You’re too busy trying to hold back your feral little brother from attacking Keigo — you know he won’t actually, you’re just hoping Keigo knows that too.
“Wait, you’re gay?” A boy who you can recall as Kaminari splutters. Your face crinkles into confusion, nose scrunching like you’ve smelt a bad odour. You can see why Katsuki calls him Dunce Face.
“It runs in the family,” you say, with a pointed look to Katsuki.
His exhaustion must’ve caught up to him since he only offers a middle finger in response. Kaminari bursts into startled and slightly scared laughter.
A warm arm makes its way around your waist and it takes an embarrassing amount of effort for you to suppress a smile. You don’t even have to look at Keigo to know that he’s grinning.
Neither of you are big fans of PDA, but the urge to hug him right now is particularly strong; especially since he’s right there, but there’s also 20 kids right there which sucks and you have to go—
Right. You and Katsuki need to go. That was the point of this whole ordeal.
“Keigo,” you murmur, quiet enough for only him to hear. The rest of the class has ignored the two of you in favour of chatting amongst themselves or questioning Katsuki. Keigo hums, meeting your eyes. He smiles, his golden irises pooling with affection and his arm squeezing gently around your waist, seemingly in a trance. You chuckle, “I need to go.”
He startles. “Right! Right,” he says, clearing his throat. You pretend not to notice the faint tinge of red high on his cheekbones.
“Okay, 1-A. I’m gonna go sort this out quickly,” Keigo says to the class, his voice raised slightly in order to drown out the talking. “So please continue sparring — without quirks — until I’m back. I won’t be long.”
The class answers an affirmative, and then the two of you (plus Katsuki) are out the door. You turn to face Keigo, placing a quick peck on his lips. “I thought I just needed to tell you Katsuki was leaving and then you’d sort it?”
“That’s true… but I missed you,” Keigo sighs wearily, acting like he hadn’t seen you in years. (You spent the night with him literally yesterday.)
“Stop before I tear my fucking eyes out,” Katsuki interrupts. Keigo lifts his head to glare unhappily at him.
“Piss off, Katsuki,” you grumble, placing a slightly longer kiss on Keigo’s lips. You pull away at the realisation that you’re probably late, which means you’ll probably have to face the wrath of Mitsuki Bakugo. “I should— we should go. I’ve stayed way longer than I needed to.”
“Thank fuck,” Katsuki grumbles, occupying himself with his phone. Teenagers.
Keigo groans dejectedly but lets you go nonetheless. He watches you walk away, waving. “Bye, honeybear!”
The news reached you like a cold spike to the gut. Fumikage, his voice uncharacteristically strained, had called. "It's… it's Hawks, (Name). There was a villain. An age quirk and He's… he's a child again."
Your mind reeled. Hawks. Keigo. A child? The confident, witty, slightly chaotic hero, reduced to his younger self? You knew snippets of his past, the cold, analytical way the HPSC had shaped him from a very young age. 'This couldn't be good.' You thought.
"Where is he, Fumikage?" you asked, your voice trembling and panicky.
"They've got him at a secure HPSC building facility. Other heroes are there, trying to… well, trying to help. But he's… very different." Tokoyami's voice trailed off. You didn't need him to elaborate. You knew. You knew the quiet, almost terrified boy Keigo used to be before his personality became a carefully constructed facade to appease the public eye.
Without another word, you grabbed your bag and practically sprinted out the door, Tokoyami right behind you.
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The HPSC facility was sterile and hushed, a stark contrast to the usual boisterous energy that followed Hawks wherever he went. You were led to a large, brightly lit room that had clearly been set up to resemble a play area. All Might was attempting to build a precarious tower of blocks, while Endeavor- probably was forced to go here, surprisingly and uncharacteristically, was making clumsy attempts at drawing with crayons with a grumpy face. Mirko was bouncing a brightly colored ball, her usual fierce grin softened into something almost gentle. A few other heroes were scattered around, trying various methods to engage the tiny figure in the center of it all.
And there he was. The child form of Keigo Takami.
He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by toys he wasn't touching. His small wings were drawn in tight against his back, almost as if he was trying to disappear. His usually vibrant golden eyes were downcast, shadowed by long, dark lashes. He looked utterly lost, a fragile echo of the boy he'd once been, before the world demanded a hero. This was the quiet, almost haunted child, stripped bare of the swagger and the wit.
Your heart aches seeing him like that.
"Keigo?" you whispered, your voice soft but clear in the surprisingly quiet room.
His head snapped up. His eyes, so wide and vulnerable, found yours. For a split second, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face, a child's hesitation. Then, as if a dam had broken, he scrambled to his feet and ran to you at full speed.
"(Name)!" he cried, a tiny, reedy voice that tore at your soul. He launched himself at you, burying his face in your leg, his small arms wrapping around your thigh in a surprisingly strong grip. He clung to you as if you were the only solid thing in a world that had suddenly gone wobbly.
The other heroes exchanged relieved glances. All Might offered a thumbs-up, a silent acknowledgment of your presence.
You nod your head at him before you knelt down, carefully pulling him into a hug. He was so small, so light. You could feel his heart thrumming against your chest. His little hands gripped the back of your shirt, holding on for dear life, as if you could disappear the moment he even lets a single hand go. He didn't say anything, just burrowed deeper into your embrace, in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent.
"Hey, little bird," you murmured, stroking his soft hair. "It's okay. I'm here."
From that moment on, he was glued to you. If you moved, he moved. If you sat down, he was in your lap or pressed against your side. He was very clingy. He didn't want to play with the toys, didn't respond to the heroes' attempts at engaging him. He only wanted you.
"Can you read to me, (Name)?" he'd ask, his voice barely above a whisper while clutching your hand.
You read him stories, your voice a soothing balm. He’d trace patterns on your arm with his tiny fingers, his head resting against your shoulder. When you suggested getting something to eat, he insisted on holding your hand the entire way to the cafeteria. He only ate when you fed him small bites, and even then, he kept looking up at you, as if to make sure you hadn't vanished.
Mirko, watching from a distance, commented, "Kid's got a serious attachment to you, carrot. Never seen him like this before."
You simply smiled sadly. "He remembers the warmth, I think. Something he didn't have much of when he was a kid."
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You spent hours like this, just being present for him. You talked to him about mundane things, told him about your day, hummed quiet tunes. He didn't speak much, but he would occasionally let out a soft sigh of contentment, his small body relaxing against yours. You could feel the deep, ingrained fear in him, the need for a stable, comforting presence.
Then, as the afternoon wore on, a strange flicker happened. You were reading him a story about a brave knight, and he was nestled in your lap, almost asleep. Suddenly, he twitched. His small body seemed to ripple, to stretch. His wings, which had been so small and tucked in, seemed to unfurl, growing in size.
His eyes snapped open, no longer the wide, innocent eyes of a child, but the sharp, intelligent gaze of Hawks. He blinked, a flicker of confusion, then recognition. He was no longer a child. He was back to his usual age, his strong arms now fully encompassing you in a surprisingly tight hug.
"(Name)?" His voice was deep, familiar, but laced with a hint of bewilderment. He pulled back slightly, his golden eyes searching your face. "What… what happened?"
You smiled, a little tear pricking your eye. "You got hit with an age quirk, Keigo. You were… a kid again."
He blinked again, slowly. "A kid, huh?" He looked around the room, taking in the scattered toys, the lingering scent of crayons. His gaze landed on Endeavor, who was now just sitting awkwardly with a half-finished drawing.
"Do you… do you remember anything?" you asked, hesitantly.
His eyes fixed on yours, serious and intense. "Every detail," he said, his voice quiet. "I remember being scared. I remember the cold. And I remember you." He reached out, gently cupping your cheek. "I remember you coming in. I remember you holding me. Reading to me. Taking care of me like I'm your very own child. I remember how… safe I felt with you."
A faint blush dusted his cheeks, a rare sight. "I was… pretty clingy, wasn't I?"
You laughed, a genuine, heartfelt laugh. "Oh, you were the clingiest little baby bird I've ever met. You wouldn't let me out of your sight. Not even a single second." You said as you gently booped his nose.
He let out a soft chuckle, a warmth returning to his eyes that had been absent for hours. "Can't blame a guy. You were the only one who didn't try to make me play with building blocks." He squeezed your hand. "Seriously though, (Name)… thank you. For being there. For taking good care of me even though you were busy."
"Always, Keigo," you whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder.
“my sweet, deluded little minion. aren't we forgetting one teensy-weensy but ever-so-crucial tiny little detail? i own you.”
♱ — keigo takami + hate sex.
♱ — synopsis; as a naive little girl in love you make a deal that gets you stuck with the unrelenting god of the underworld, and no matter how sweet he may fuck you…you’ll spend all of eternity hating him if you have to.
♱ —length; 5.4K
♱ — warnings; please read for your own safety! mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, mentions of death, restraints, marking, branding, creampies, thigh riding, impact play, nipple play, multiple orgasms, possesive sex, hate sex, unprotected sex, fem!reader, hades!hawks. not beta read !
♱ — notes; screee happy sinister saturday !! tonight i bring you hawks beloved besmooched as disney's hades!! i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did writing it. !! mwah !! - m.list ₊ kinktober m.list ₊ taglist 𓆩♡𓆪
pity.
you should not have pity for the weak because you are weak, yourself.
you’re weak because you’re too kind; you hate to see a dying soul twisting through those who end up in the land of the undead, shackled to their fate of never returning where the living are. you feel their desperation, hear it in the woeful cries of lost lives as they make their trip down a stream of decay— to be damned for almost all of eternity and like them, you’re desperate too. the underworld is a place to be hated, you think, tying you down to the stench of death and you’re so desperate to feel the sun on your skin once more…to taste the juice of a ripened fruit and feel the warm breeze against your skin while you brush through locks of silvering hair.
you miss the air in your lungs, you miss breathing him in like he was oxygen.
touya, was there name of the man you missed most about the world up above— his lips often tasted of sour grapes, his skin was rough from scratches and scrapes too but soft whenever you held a his hand. you thought that he adored you— touya would worship you like the gods had put your portrait in the stars up above and you’d do the same…spending your free time counting the flecks in cerulean eyes while soft white hair flows in the warm wind. he was brave, you knew that, a warrior who was strong and had promised you his hand once he returned from the battles his father had called him upon.
you were promised, you were happy and more in love than you thought possible— until the day touya tells you that he loves you with his dying breath, a sickness sweeping over topaz fem eyes, and you know he’d take your heart to the underworld too.
“you still thinkin’ about him, doll?”
the warmth of your day dreams slip away as the chill of his voice fills the stone cold lair. you dare to let your fingertips drift through the river of souls below the wall you lean against. “‘m not in the mood, hades.” the god of the underworld, keigo takami is a nuisance if you’d ever known one. a pain in your ass full of feathered flames— bright blue in all of their glory, they’re colder than most would expect, unbecoming of the colour that sprout’s from the king of the undead’s back.
“hawks. keigo, baby. c’mon little bird…” his voice is tight with humour, surprisingly playful for someone doomed to be surrounded by lifelessness for all of eternity. all of the underworld is dreary and damp, worn arching mountains made of old bones, skulls and teeth— rocks as sharp as swords that end lives with the sickly green stream of whining dead mortals. you can’t breathe down here…there’s no space for you to escape nor breathe around him and you hate it. “oh sugarplum…don’t play sourpuss! we’re all friends here!” the blonde god that burns cold flames picks your dainty fingers from the acidic pool of death.
he grinds your gears, and you have nowhere else to go. the thought of being stuck with a man who rules over ruined lives— infuriating you to no end. “i am not—“ you seethe, shoulders raised like a hissing cat or something akin to the three headed dog that guards this place. “your friend. far from it, hades.” the look on your face is far from impressed, discourteous with your lips turned into a nasty sneer and a sweltering spark to your usually pretty docile eyes.
it’s such a shame, how ill behaved you are after everything the man has done for you. “it’s hawks, honey.” the man reminds you, and in a flash he’s on you in all the ways you despise. his slimey grip of death squeezes your cheeks, dragging you up to his mighty height with your face in the palm of his burning hand. hades…hawks, he’s mean when he’s unhappy— the flames that form the wings of a fallen angel flicker a brilliant red and the temperature of them skyrockets. “‘n this is no way to act after all i’ve done for you cupcake.” despite the fury that radiates from the god…he coos gently.
“if i remember correctly… i’m the one who saved your little prick of a boyfriend… aren’t I?” even through all of the robes keigo wears, you can still feel the molten heat of his skin against yours as he pulls you in close— though you dangle from his hold, you’re practically chest to chest. you scramble to get away, but the god only digs his thumb further into your cheek. “we had a deal. your soul for his life.” with his free hand, he creates an apparition, tufts of smoke dancing to form people…one showing touya who bends at the knee to take the other’s hand— this one being you.
at first, the two characters seem happy, and an emotion akin to fondness settles in your bones— but not before touya’s little smoke figure trails away from yours to follow another woman “s’not my fault he left you. don’t take it out on me, doll,” hawks drawls, snapping his fingers to make the apparition disappear, your heart rattled in its place after reliving the scene and you force your gaze away with a grunt directed at the god. “now, since you’re being oh so disrespectful, we’ll add…give or take, another five years to your sentence with me instead of taking away seven. how’s that sound?”
“fuck you, hades.” turning your head, you spit directly between the god’s eyes, fuelled by your own hurtful rage.
your elevated, living pulse does nothing but serve to piss off the king of the underworld more— his blonde set of locks nearly exploding off of the top his head as he combusts into red hot flames once more. “still so bitter over a man who can’t love you like i do, huh?” keigo says your name, low and raspy, and you can’t remember the last time he’d uttered those syllables. it frightens you, after all you are a mortal in the grip of a man who takes lives for a living, but you’d never let him know that. “that’s almost pathetic.”
that hurts to hear, like a knife twisting in your fragile human gut… and so, kicking your feet, still high above the ground and suspended in the large god’s grip— you throw yourself about and claw at his temperate hand cupping your face harshly. “you do not love me, you wouldn’t know what that meant even if it kicked you in the face!” you yell, biting down on keigo’s hands in a futile attempt. “you’re just obsessed with me and would much rather me be a soulless corpse to keep you better company!”
“you better watch your tone with me, little bird—“
“you’re vile. you’re disgusting— a fool if you think i could ever see the bright side of being stuck here with you,” you ramble in response, and foolishly so. “i hate you hades, i hate you. did you know that? i want to repeat it for you. i hate yo—“
your words are never finished, for a resounding strike echoes throughout the cave like atmosphere on the underworld and you already feel the invisible bruising form under your skin, falling to the floor to cup your wound.
no matter how many times you had tested the god of death, he had never hit you like this before.
and you’ve never looked into his golden irises , never seen them so clearly or seen his pupils like black slits— leaving the amber colour to take over, reminding you of the surface sun. hawks looks almost predatory, hungry red flames for wings willing to swallow and burn everything in their path, including you.
“repeat yourself. what did you say?” keigo commands easily.
you gulp. “t-that i…”
“that you, what?” your name again, and you tremble.
“that i hate you,” you breathe. “i hate you.”
he seems to snap at this.
hawks smiles, teeth as sharp as razors set on display. “another five years into your sentence, pretty.” with a snap of his talon clawed fingers, the god has fragments of grey smog binding your wrist together, slipping over your nose and mouth to shut you the hell up. “‘m disappointed, yanno. i do care so much for you, i’m so attentive… but this has happened far too long to go unnoticed, little bird.”
the world around you rushes with air as you’re hauls into the god’s thick arms, you kick and scream muffled through the smoke in your mouth— watching as keigo conjures up a throne made of thorns, pain and bones, taking a comfortable seat into it despite the lost loved ones it might be made up of. “here we go again, darling.” the blonde sighs, not caring if you batter his back on the way down to taking his seat— dragging you into position to sit over the swell of his right thigh. “s’always the same old shit with you. so naughty.” keigo peers up at you through eyes like a bird of prey…watching, knowing the exact effect he has on you.
hyper aware of how much control he has over you, right down to your soul.
you squirm away and keigo let’s go of the smoke, letting you tilt your head back but still rooted in the god’s lap. “i hate you.” breathing deep, you try to ignore your body flushing with heat and the urge to buck down against keigo’s surprisingly muscular thigh.
“behave yourself. sit still,” hades coos, his touch cascades up your body, slipping under your bodice and sending warmth down each of the neurons like a flickering flame until he reaches the swell of your breasts— thumbing over your pebbled nipples in an attempt to pull a whine from between your resistant lips. it’s so cute to watch you try and fail, pretend like your hips aren’t aching to slide back and forth, drag your clit back and forth…back and forth over the man like a desperate bitch in heat, like you don’t want to put your hands in the brightness of his fire and watch yourself burn with lust. you’re no good at acting, pretending you wouldn’t slut yourself out for him, the one who owns you for all of eternity.
with a click of his fingers, all the power in the world between them pulls up the skirts of your robes, like wisps of a web until the fabric sits at your hips. “h-hate you… s’much,” you repeat though the venom to your voice is lost, shaky and falling into a pathetic moan instead as the god traces the fat at your hips, searing fingers sliding down to your fleshy ass before peeling you away from his thigh— amused at the stickiness that ties you to him. “f-fuck.”
“yeah sweetheart? you hate me this much?” the amusement is evident in his voice too, a slender digit sliding out from the curve of your ass to touch at your oozing wetness. “oh…i don’t know, doesn’t seem like you don’t like me. you can’t spend forever hatin’ me either; not when i get you like this.” the finger spreads apart your swelling folds, and hawks shifts until his knee is able to bump your clit. “lover boy ever make ya this wet?” you despise the way the god talks down on you, as if you’re just a slave to his cock and thighs and whatever he can give you…dopamine and lust hormones flooding your cute little mortal brain and making you pliant for him.
the beginnings of your arousal seeps warmly through the robes laying wrinkled against the fiery blonde’s thigh, sweet folds leaving a stain that betrays you in every way possible. touya could never… not like this, you’re soaked and you’ve barely been touched. only just, by feather light grazes against the supple fat at your waist. it’s the taunting pillowy cushion to hawks’ words too, they’re what’s gotten you so worked up— not too mean or too harsh, just enough to make you feel like you’re beneath him.
with your nails digging to hades’ arm, you cry out his name at a volume barely above a whisper— bottom lip wobbling and face crumbling just like your resolve because it hurts so good not to use him to get off, the shame only adding fuel to the fire in your lower belly. “s-shut up,” you struggle to get out, to mean what you say as your needy hole clenches against the blistering skin of a god. “you don’t make me feel shit…y-you could never be h-him—oh,” keigo flexes his thigh beneath your unloyal pussy, tongue darting out to wet his lips in hunger as your words taper off into a sinful little sigh at your pretty eyes roll back into your skull. “oh…oh fuck you.”
“watch your mouth.” hades all but snarls, a cruel smirk beginning its horizon on his slightly chapped lips now that you’re finally playing his game, your hips falling into their own rhythm over his thigh—speeding up in their straddled dance over him. again, his hands explore all what your body has to offer and this time you let him, throwing your head back when hawks rips the fabric of your skirt to get a better view of your naked rosy cunt and how beads of glistening arousal pearl between perfect pussy lips. “don’t need to be your shitty little human to make you feel good, sweetheart. i know i’m better than him,” he makes a sick point of reminding you so, leaning back into his throne with a hazy look settling into the embers of his golden eyes, those of which are trained on the way your folds encapsulate his thigh as you get yourself off on him. “i’m your god, you’ll only ever feel the pinnacle of pleasure with me.”
you loath that this much is true, of all the times hawks has punished you for resenting him— talking back and being ungrateful, you’ve never cum as hard with anyone else as much as you have with him. when his flaming hands swallow your thighs, burn their hand prints into them until you can smell the scent of singeing flesh tangled with death, decay and your saccharine pussy you feel like you’re dying. you must be, with the waves of euphoria you’re drowning in, your lungs ache from the near screams of delight that rattle around in your throat with every grind against hawks— especially when he begins to bounce his thighs against your cunt that blossoms for him like a flower from the lands up above.
“you’re awful…” you say, teary eyed despite humping at keigo’s twitching thigh faster and faster with ragged breaths— giving him a front row seat to you losing your mind, to your slit drooling so delicately against him despite how roughly your body moves. his clawed hand reaches the back of your bodice, tearing it into two as if it were nothing and letting the fabric fall away from your bouncing chest.
his mouth is on your breasts within an instant, the heated pink tongue of the god rolling over your darkened areolas and rock hard nipples, standing on end from the cool death chilled air, before the sharpened edge of his teeth sink into your soft mounds. “only just now realising that, honey? when i’m literally the king of death?” hawks let’s go of you with a slick pop, his cheeks flushed red and lips in a state to match— cock and thigh twitching at the little simper you let out from the painful sting of his teeth biting at your skin. your state is no better than his, brows creased adorably in the centre of your forehead, mouth open in a raw ‘o’ shape and your eyes screwed shut while your skin shines with perspiration. a diamond in the rough.
“fuck, you look so fucking good,” the god of the underworld curses, glowing yellow eyes torn between watching your face contort in lechery and your mound, gliding smoothly over his paled yet golden skin— leaving a trail of slick in her wake. “oh fucking hell,” he beefs, from deep within his chest licentiously, the words caught in his throat when you start to bounce up and down in the god’s lap by your own accord. “that’s right, ride it. ride my thigh like you fucking hate me.” he leers, goading you into lifting your hips and slamming your clit back down on his shaky thigh, eyes a dark and molten gold rolling back at the sight.
you don’t have the energy to curse him out again, whimpering and mewling like a fallen angel as you reach out to grab keigo’s shoulder in order to steady yourself. your body is wracked with the shakes and trembles even as your nails dig into his shoulder blades, one hand on his hip, using him as leverage to ride him, throwing yourself down on him as the lewd pap of your sticky pussy fills the sex and death tainted air. hawks’ mouth is back on you, biting and marking your neck, licking a nasty trail from your collarbones and back to the swell of your breasts to suckle on them— only serving to make your cunt fish every time it’s lifted from his thigh, ruining his dark robes with slick and making his wings burn brighter like the ball of lust growing between you.
hawks plants his feet firmly on the floor, his hands smoothing over your ass so he can roughly pull your cheeks apart, slamming you back down on his quivering leg every time it juts up to meet your pretty, syrupy cunt. you squeak, the hood of your clit pulled back, blood rushing right too it carrying sex crazed hormones that make your whole body tingle. “oh, just look at your fucking pussy. so, wet. so nasty.” he laughs like the sight of you staining his leg, humping it like a bitch is ludicrous. “you sure you hate me?” you do, gods you fucking do but you can barely talk with the delight pain that sparks at your ass cheeks as keigo marks them with burns again. branding you with the hades name— making you property of the underworld.
“how can you hate me when you belong to me?” he bleats sweet and soft despite how rough hades is with you, scattering your pretty body with scalding burn marks. “when i make you feel so good that you can’t even remember your own pathetic little mortal name?” he says it then, when he’s growling and smacking a blazing hand down against your bruising ass, making you cry out and howl and drag your nails down his skin. keigo did you a favour, saving your weak and loving soul above all else after your lover had cast you aside— he protected you, nurtured you and all you could do was look at him like he ruined the world for you. so in turn, every time you would act up like this, keigo would fuck you until you were literally an inch from losing your life, reminding you that you bound to him for all of eternity, no matter what you did.
“you’re mine. remember?” he coos to you when your head starts to loll and you’re hiccuping so hard you can’t even think to breathe right. “my little queen of the underworld.”
slumping forward, you don’t slow the roll of your hips, the gentle glide of your slippery cunt along hades’ blazing thigh and instead you shake your head, weakly, miserably to the point where he just finds your denial cute. “‘m not…i-i,” you gargle, words incoherent against the molten core of keigo’s chest. “i fucking hate you—uhuh, yeah…i do.” you moan.
like most humans, you’re fucking pitiful but your voice adorned with lust is enticing to a god who hears nothing but deathly wails all day. “keep tellin’ yourself that; baby but look at how you fall apart on my lap. uhuh…yeah?” keigo flashes you his pearly whites through his condescending smirk and tone, using you so bristfully that every time he pushes you back and forth over his thigh you go as far back as to grind your puffy clit against his knee. “that felt good, huh? yeah i know…you’re all mine.”
you fucking hate him, and that voice of his and how he plays you for a fucking fool.
you hate how his possession over you makes you needy, makes you melt and how you eagerly nod your head, sore and bruised by flames all over as you push it into keigo’s neck— the knot in your tummy nice and tight, so good that it hurts. “‘m close… don’t stop. please, o-oh fuck!” you cry, coated in your own essence as it splatters every time you slam your pretty pussy down on hawks, clenching around nothing, your sweet words soothing the ache in his rigid dick. “j-just like that. f-fuck! keigo!”
the way you drawl out the syllables of his name makes a primal urge stir in the god— he circles your hips on him, let’s his calloused finger tips burn their mark against your hips and your thighs and your ass, knowing that the torment gets you off, makes your creamy cunt wetter. “you gonna cum for me? make a mess in my lap? paint your god with your pretty juices?” he teases, short for breath leaning up with a fond smile until your lips are just barely apart. he wonders how you’ll look when you cum this time; if your sweaty swollen lips with hungrily accept his, if you’ll cry with your eyes closed or look him in his own— your sparkling bambi eyes swirling with hatred and dread like they always do. “c’mon…come on. give it to me, sweetheart, lemme feel you come undone.”
hot fingers, the ones that branded you push into your clit— pinching it as hades writes his signature against your throbbing pussy, moaning with you when you jolt. “yeah, you like that?” he growls, voice hoarse and your body betrays you once more, head nodding into his neck. “mhm, you’re gonna cum like this for me aren’t you? you’re gonna fucking cum for the god you hate. that’s it…oh gods, that’s fuckin’ it, doll.”
“i-i’m! oh gods, keigo—!” you squeal as the knot of lust within you unravels all at once, your core gushing with release as hades makes you dive head first into a blinding orgasm. you violently shake and your thighs lock around his hand that works you through your high and releases the pressure in your pussy, sweet streams of clear arousal soaking his lap and dripping down your thighs. hawks can’t bring himself to stop, doesn’t know where to look as he draws tighter circles on your little nub, drawing out your orgasm for his own amusement, addicted to how your skin shines with your release. “s-stop! please… s’too much!” you squeak.
the world spins harder on its axis and you barely have time to register hawks flipping your positions, folding you with your back to the throne and legs thrown over the bend of his burly arms. he can’t wait any fucking longer, feeling as if his cock might explode without being inside of you, watching you cum like that having sent him into a throbbing frenzy. you haven’t even calmed down yet, still limp from your orgasm when keigo pushes his length through your seeping, glistening folds, red cockhead catching on the hood of your clit in desperation, poking at your fluttering hole, ready to fuck into you while he lets his dick slap along the length of you.
“j-just because you’ve made me cum…doesn’t mean i like you, nor trust you.” you pant in denial, trying and failing to open your pretty eyes to the underworld. “it doesn’t mean anything.”
but keigo, he’s too far gone to care at this point. he could care less if you hate him, if you adore him, worship him or fear him. the only thing on his mind right now is sinking his yearning, pulsating shaft into your slick, slit while you’re still coming down from heaven and back to him in the world below. “don’t give a fuck,” he says, a hankering feeling to fuck you now clouding his mind. “i don’t need your trust little bird, i already know your body fucking loves me.”
he won’t last long and neither will you, you’re already only just hanging on by a thread. “i-i don’t,” you slur, spit on the pad of tongue feeling heavy, you still haven’t recovered from your orgasm, squeezing down on every inch that keigo pushes into you— even though you’re wet beyond belief, your pink little hole can’t help but resist him, as if your body is finally denying him after everything he put you through on his thigh. “n-no…no no!” you cry out, a mess of dry lips and crystal tears, lifting your ass from the seat of the throne to try and coax hawks back into you. “please…need it, y-your cock…p-please!”
“see look, you’re being so nice now… is that all it takes? play with your precious pussy a little bit and you stop pretending to hate me?” keigo laughs huskily, dragging a thumb over his seedy tip as his fat length sits on your tummy— before shoving the soiled digit against your clit, pressing it into your pleasure nub so loosen you up a bit to take him. “this pussy doesn’t hate me, does she? oh no…she belongs to me.”
you shudder at his words despite the heat of his flames, and you’re not even given a second to respond or prepare before his ribbed and red hot cock is shoved into your unused hole, his practised hands lifting you higher from the throne to accommodate for all of his size. “oh…oh god, k-keigo,” you coo like a little angel, your gaze losing its focus while the king of death folds you in half against his royal seat, the forked and purpling veins decorating his shaft pressing up against new pulse points, pinging them with ecstasy the further he presses into you.
hawks bends over your shaky frame, golden and carved abs pressed against the backs of your thighs, the god smothering you with his body once he reaches the hilt, your knees digging blissfully into your shoulders, his cock already nestled against your g-spot from the pure size of him and you feel so full, like keigo is everywhere around you, a pleasant pain thrumming as your squishy insides stretch over his cold. he’s in your guts, your senses, your heart though it’s blackened with hatred for him.
you’re dizzy and your eyes droop, mind void of thought and you don’t have the effort to hate him anymore— not when he makes you feel like this. “nuh-uh, wake up sweetheart, want you to look at me as i fuck ya, kay?” keigo whispers to you sweetly, his blazen hand smacking down on your face, pulling the dirtiest moan you’ve ever heard from between your lips. “that’s it, wake up f’me. listen to this cunt call my name,” he laments tapping your cheek once more and grins at the branded hand print before golden eyes lock themselves away— taking away your sunshine from up above. you listen intently, the lewd squelch of your insides bouncing of stacks of bones and towers of skeletons, at a volume much higher than the cries of the undead. “my messy messy girl, so messy you might as well admit that you’re in love with me.”
while that couldn’t have been further from the truth, you submit to the god who makes you a slave to his cock— slowly withdrawing from your snug walls, pulling out of your sticky selfish cunt. “ain’t it damned shame that lover boy took you for granted?” he growls with a voice tinged with possession. “such a shame that you’re sentenced to slutting yourself out on this cock for the rest of your days…oh fuck, you’re tight.” hips surging forwards, hawks sets a steady pace to rocking his dick into you, blunt cockhead pushing and pulling against sensitive spots that makes you see the stars in the night sky again. and maybe you do consider yourself lucky, without touya fucking you over, you wouldn’t be prisoner to the best dick you’ve ever had.
you hate him, but hades is so, so good—teeth and tongue latching back onto your bouncing breasts as the heat from his flames spreads through you like a wildfire in a forest and the only thing capable putting it out is his precum sloshing in creamy, loose white against your gummy, syrupy walls. “m-my fucking god!” you manage through stuttered breathes, keening into the swipes of keigo’s tongue across your breasts that he’s burned, as if his saliva will soothe you. he ploughs into you at a god speed pace, skin slapping on skin as his balls slam into the curve of your ass and harmonise with your high pitched wails.
“that’s right, baby.” he sounds so elated, moaning happily around your swollen nipples, moving to pant happily into your ear, pressing further and further into you until keigo is hardly pulling away from bullying your g-spot, your juices splashing about the places, running down the length of your slit and your ass to pool underneath you on the marble throne. “i’m yours and you’re fuckin’ mine, for the rest of forever…don’t, ah shit, care what you say. hate me all y’fuckin’ want.”
hawks fucks you like he hates your guts, looking over you, throwing your legs over his shoulder and using his weight to canter into your abused cunt, rocking his throne with a dull thump to each of thrusts. he frees you from the grip that leaves burn marks across your body, to briefly run his hand through sweaty blonde locks, both of you are slick with perspiration, breathing ragged and you’re definitely too fucked out to even see at this point. the sun is keigo; despite the dreary underworld you live in, and the tears blur your vision too much for you to tell this isn’t the land of the living.
“‘m g’na cum,” you tell hades eagerly, feeling like you’re alive the more he fills you up— sexes slotted together like a match made in heaven when you really feel like he’s your own personal hell. “gonna cum so fucking hard.” the pleasure is suffocating, deathly, but you don’t care, crying from every hole possible, locking down on keigo’s ravaging dick when he slaps your entrance to keep you awake— you jolt, sore from every joint and whine out pathetically.
“can feel you cummin’ on me again, better give it all t’me little bird— want your fuckin’ mind, your body, your soul.” he sinks his teeth into the junction at your neck one last time, adding another delightfully painful mark to the rest that litter your body. he does it all to numb your pain of touya leaving you, fills you up with love which you mistake for hate because how can a merciless god who takes lives for fun be capable of loving you. it’s not long before your body does as he says, following keigo’s lead, tumbling down the highway to hell as the bright light of his flames flashes before your very eyes, your release staining his abdomen where it’s smooshed up against your clit.
“oh shit, fuck that’s it,” he’s right behind you too, abs rippling while the mighty god of death trembles above you and pours thick white from his angry red tip straight into your bruised womb, lewd clapping noises filling the air as he rocks into you through the last of your highs. keigo makes a pretty mess of you; creaming your insides as his last mark of possession over you. “my pretty little bird, mine eternally.”
he hopes you’ll forget touya, that you’ll forgive him just this once— stop hating him for once.
but with your foreheads pressed together, bodies limp and uncomfortable against the throne hawks— hades, has conjured up you quickly come to your senses with closed eyes and lost breath.
“i hate you, hades.” you grunt, shame burning at you now instead of him, instead of lust. “get off me.”
just a quick hawks idea that came to me <3 it's awkward lol but gn and pro-hero!reader
you might need to put your agency on lockdown.
admittedly, a hero agency going into lockdown was incredibly hypocritical, but when the threat was the number two hero himself, hawks, you can’t take any risks. everything must be secured so he cannot step even one foot into the premise or you’ll call emergency out of desperation and exasperation.
of course in the case of an actual lockdown, you would be expected to be there on the front lines which means you’d be the one responsible for being face-to-face with the problem. and if hawks flashed that charming smile at you or laughed that boyish laugh of his, you’d be surrendering. easy defeat.
but, the moment you’ve been dreading all day comes a little sooner than you expected, when three knocks on your door abruptly capture your attention and in comes one of your assistants.
“ah, l/n? hawks is here and wants to see you,” she says, sounding a little overwhelmed. hawks can be intimidating when he doesn’t mean to be after all and well, you too were dreading meeting him for completely different meetings.
“don’t send him in,” you blurt, causing your assistant to widen her eyes in shock. you know she has the urge to ask why but quickly nods in affirmation before disappearing behind the office door once more.
crisis averted. or so you thought as a sturdy, red feather begins dancing on your desk, one that you knew wasn’t there before.
it must’ve slipped in alongside your assistant and your heart drops at the realisation, especially when it becomes gesturing to your window; a signal you somehow recognise.
“oh my goodness,” you mutter before turning around in your chair, coming face-to-face with the winged hero as he taps impatiently on your window, your chest already beginning to compress with the way your heart rate increased, and a thrill of exhilaration runs its course through your veins; two natural reactions that happen very commonly whenever you’re around hawks.
you hurriedly shut the curtains on his face, not having long to rejoice before his feather lifts up a portion of the blinds to reveal his unimpressed expression, coupled with an amused eyebrow raise and a dangerous smirk. hawks then gestures upwards with his pointer finger and you knew immediately that he meant to meet you on the rooftop of your agency; a place he likes to crash onto whenever he wants to.
(you once asked him if he had better things to do than hangout on the top of your building and he replied that he’s there because he’s bored but you know otherwise. if there’s something about hawks it’s that he’s never free. his schedule was worse than yours and even then, yours was unmanageable. where he found a slot to loiter around your establishment, you don’t know. the bigger philosophical issue was why.)
you’re backed into a corner with nowhere to go but the rooftop and the wing that clung to your hero clothes was only emphasising the direness of your situation.
the moment you open the card-regulated door of your rooftop, hawks is already waiting for you, his face bursting into a dazzling smile as a glimmer appears in his eyes, ones that rivalled the sun.
“there you are, sweetheart!” he greets, fluffing up his wings as the singular feather trailing beside you returns to its rightful owner. he takes generous steps towards you whilst you take smaller ones to meet him in the middle, your arms crossed over your chest in hopes of maintaining an apathetic front to deter him.
it must not have been working because he does not look fazed. not one bit.
“what are you doing here?” you grumble, subtly admiring the way his ruffled hair blows with the wind and how radiant he looks with the sun shining upon him. “don’t you have things to do that are more productive than bother me?”
“i am being productive; i’m chasing up on a deal that i made with you. maybe you need a little reminder to what it was?”
“please, don’t start-”
“-if i placed above you in the hero rankings this year, i would get to take you out on a date. remember anything along those lines, pretty?”
you hide your face from him, using your hands to cover your eyes as you look away.
him, being the embodiment of your worst nightmares (daydreams), bends around so he would appear in your eyesight again and when you catch a glimpse of him, you just shut him out again using your hands. a deep chuckle spills from the winged hero at your childish insistence, genuinely entertained and infatuated by you.
“c’mon, stop ignoring me. i earned this date fair and square.”
“if i do not see, i do not perceive, please leave me alone.”
“oh c’mon number six, i’ve already placed reservations at a hot place i’ve been meaning to try together. won’t you be nice?”
removing your hands, you meet his gaze with a perplexed one of your own. “i’m serious, hawks, i have work to take care of. don’t you as well? we can’t just take breaks whenever.”
“and i’m serious about this date. so much so that i rostered more sidekicks on today than i normally do. everything is being taken care of so stop worrying, would i really be japan’s number two hero if i didn’t plan out every last detail?”
you huff, signalling his defeat. he was right. his surveillance abilities were off the charts. if anyone knew where danger was happening the second it occurred, it would be hawks. just- does he have to be so smug about it? it feels like he’s rubbing salt in the wound of your defeat yesterday at the hero rankings.
“fine,” you give in with an ungracious eye roll. “let’s go to this hot pot reservation of yours since you’re so insistent about how diligent you are.”
little short where a long term customer recommends her stylist (you) to a coworker of hers <3
(HELP IDK WHERE THIS CAME FROM LOL)
soft rock filled the small space as you swept across the salon floor, making a small pile of your last client's blue hair. you smiled to nobody in particular, taking a deep breath. you really did love your job. it was an art to you, and every person who passed under your hands for a cut or dye felt like a small masterpiece.
you worked out of a small salon in downtown kyushu, on the cutest street corner across from a bakery. it had three stylist chairs in their respective stations, each decorated to their owners' liking. yours had small (f/c) prints along the wall, little butterflies scattered around, and your mirror was lined with some miscellaneous polaroids and string lights. at first they were just for the vibes, but you quickly noticed the majority of your clients finding a significant amount of joy in taking their instagram photos with it.
the other stations had been filled with personality of their own, belonging to your salon co-owners, two lovely people you became quick friends with in cosmetology school. however, one had clocked out for the day hours earlier and the other had no appointments, so the shop was yours to enjoy while you waited out the clock. of the three of you, you were the only one who didn't leave after the last client. you hardly made appointments before 10 am, so if you had some extra time before 6 pm, you would tidy the salon and see if you got any walk ins. if not, you closed at your 8 hour mark. every once in a while though, someone would wander in asking for a quick cut and you were always more than happy to comply.
so now was one of those evenings. your last client, coming in for a fresh trim, had walked out at 5:20. and here you were, just humming along with the music and bobbing your head.
a soft buzzing from the counter tore your attention away from the pile of blue hair you were sweeping and brought it to your phone, with an incoming call. you smiled softly at the icon, a picture of you and rumi from the last time you two had been able to go out together. at this point, it must have been months ago. she was always so busy with hero work now, which you completely understood, it just made you miss the days before she was number 5.
you had gone to the same middle school and stayed connected since. of course she went to a high school to get her hero license, (before you, too, since you met in her last year, and your first) but you wouldn't let that stop you from seeing her on weekends, or stop her from forcing you to help with the classes she didn't understand. in exchange, she let you practice on her hair to help your chances of getting into a better cosmetology school. hell, she even let you dye it once or twice. ever since, you were the only person who's cut her hair, ever.
you put the phone to your ear with a smile. "heyy, hunny bun! what's goin on?"
you heard her playfully scoff through the phone, as if you haven't been calling her that since you were 15.
"hey babes, just had a question for ya." her cheerful tone was unwavering as usual, you could practically hear her confident smile through the phone.
"mkay, shoot."
"are you with a client right now?"
you tucked your phone under your ear with your shoulder, picking up your broom and starting to sweep the pile towards the automatic vacuum in the corner. "mmm, no, my last one left just a few minutes ago, actually." you heard her say something you didn't quite catch, like she was talking to someone she was with. "why? what's up?"
"do you still take walk-ins until 6??" her tone was more eager now. you smiled a bit, wondering what for.
"yyeeaaahh?"
"oooo! okay perfect, then i have someone who desperately needs your help." you could hear annoyed and offended protests come from her line and you couldn't help but stifle a laugh. "oh shut up, you've let it grow too long and you know it! stop acting like a stubborn child." she chuckled slightly before turning her attention back to you. "think you've got time for a quick trim for my friend?"
with a small smile, you turned to the clock on the wall. "yeah, plenty actually. how far away are you guys? should i put up the closed sign in the window in case someone else comes in?"
"nah, don't worry about that. we just got off patrol like four blocks from you. should be five minutes, tops."
you stopped your sweeping and froze, just a bit. "patrol? you mean i'm doing one of your pro hero friends' hair?"
"well you've been doing mine since we were 13, i figured it wouldn't be a big deal." she sounded so casual, which was in character for her, yet still astonishing to you, considering the circumstances.
"i mean yeah, but i know how to do your iconic haircut because i've been doing it for, i don't know, almost 10 years?? not to brag, but i'm probably the only one who can do it just the way you like. but if you bring me some big shot hero and i screw up his 'do, then it's all my fault." you chuckled slightly.
"ahh, don't sweat it y/n. i know you'll do a great job. besides, it's not like i'm bringing you chris hemsworth or something, it's just someone i work with every once in a while. feel free to screw up his 'do as much as you like." her end of the call was suddenly filled with miscellaneous protests and insistent "NO, DON'T DO THAT-"'s, followed by her cackling furiously.
you couldn't help but laugh yourself. "alright, well i'm gonna finish cleaning up from my last appointment. i'll see you in a few, yeah?"
"alright see you then babes."
"buh-bye hunny bun." you hung up, smiling softly, a bit excited for whatever was coming your way.
when the golden bell above your door rang just a few minutes earlier, you were reorganizing your hair colors. as soon as you turned around, you smiled and threw yourself at rumi in a big hug, laughing as she scooped you up and spun you around. it's a habit she'd picked up way back when she first started heavy lifting.
she squealed as she squeezed you, finally setting you down. "agh, i feel like it's been so long since i've seen you!"
you chuckled slightly, rubbing the back of your neck. "yeah, it's almost like that's because it has."
your smile changed into a curious look as you remembered why she was here, looking behind her at the eye-catching scarlet pair of wings on her friend. realization dawned upon you as your eyes met his, golden and piercing, even through his tinted glasses. you huffed a laugh and smirked, cocking your head to the side. he held out a gloved hand for a shake before stopping.
"oh-" he chuckled and bit the middle finger, pulling out his hand and offering it again, flesh and bone this time, for a friendly shake. "hey, i'm-"
"hawks. i'm familiar." you smiled and laughed softly. "call me y/n."
"pleasure to meet you, y/n." the way your name rolled off his tongue made you hesitate for just a moment, biting the inside of your cheek in thought.
"likewise... hey rumi?"
"mhmm?"
"remember when you called me earlier?"
she smiled playfully. "yeah, i think so."
"yeah, and you said, 'iT's nOt LiKe i'M bRiNgiNg ChRiS hEmSwOrTh'?"
"mhm mhm i think i remember that."
"so.. wanna tell me what the number two hero is doing in my salon, oh my God?"
she laughed loudly and patted you on the back. "y/n don't worry, i promise you have nothing to stress about. now i'm gonna pop into the bakey across the street and see if i can get anything before they close, why don't you go ahead and get started?" without waiting for an answer, she was already back in your doorway. "screw him up, yeah?" she winked playfully before closing the door and making her way to the crosswalk outside.
a moment of silence passed as you watched her make her way across the street before hawks spoke up.
"sooo.... please don't screw me up, too badly."
you laughed as you prepped the rinse station for him. "oh no don't worry, you're in perfectly adequate hands."
he let out an amused hum. "i don't know, adequate has to be an understatement, if you're the one doing rumi's hair. she told me you were the one who did her hair and makeup for that magazine she was in a few months back, said you style her for every event too." he shrugged off his jacket and slipped off his glasses, dropping them in one of your lounge chairs.
his easy going tone and relaxed smile had already made you feel more at ease. "yeah... well i mean, i guess i just know her, what looks good and what she likes, you know? we go pretty far back." you chuckled, motioning for him to come take a seat.
"well whatever you end up doing to me, i'm sure it'll look great." his relaxed, almost cocky smirk rested on his face comfortably. though you thought you saw it falter for just a moment when you pressed a hand to his chest to guide him back, neck resting on the edge of the bowl, head leaning into the sink.
"well let's hope so..." you smiled softly as you lowered your voice just a bit. "let me know if the water's too hot..."
he hummed as the warm water poured over his scalp, visibly relaxing. as easy going as he always seemed, it must have been exhausting to always be on guard, looking for trouble. "mm... 's perfect."
you bit the inside of your cheek again, smiling still. he exhaled softly as you massaged the shampoo into his scalp, looking like he was sinking into the chair even more.
"hawks..?"
he opened one eye, looking up at you. "hm?"
"you okay?"
"oh, yeah... sorry," he chuckles faintly. "just, feels good... sorry if that's weird."
"oh! no, ha, not at all."
as you go along with the rest of the wash, conditioning and rinsing, you couldn't help but wonder if he ever got attention like this. as far as the media could tell, he didn't have many personal relationships, and he reacted so easily to your touch, it was like he hadn't relaxed, had personal attention like this in a while.
you moved him to the chair without many words. as you comb through his hair, you look up for just a moment and catch his eyes on yours in the mirror. you continued what you were doing, holding his gaze.
"...what?"
his smile returned with an amused exhale. "nothing, just watching you work."
you returned the expression before turning your attention back to his hair. "okay.. so rumi said you needed a trim, how much exactly am i lopping off?"
"ah, probably an inch, hardly more. it's been getting in my eyes when i'm fighting, which is like skating on thin ice, so..."
you nodded, picking up your sheers. "okay, i get you."
"i usually get it cut every few weeks to keep it manageable, but the guy who was doing that before quit on me."
you tilted your head curiously as you began trimming around his neck. "really? why's that?"
"ah, i ended up having to see him pretty often, guess he kinda got fed up." he laughed lightly.
"every few weeks is already pretty often, why would you need to see him more often than that?"
"i solve issues before they can happen. but i also assist other heroes pretty often, walking into battles that have already started. and sometimes my own situations can still get out of hand. if i get banged up, chances are so does my hair. it's been burnt, ripped out, shaved around head injuries, pretty much anything you can think of."
as he talked, you pulled strands of hair to snip. every once in a while, you would notice small-ish scars buried under his overlapping layers.
"yeah, i think i see what you mean..." you gently run your fingers over one of them, watching carefully as his eyebrows quirk up slightly.
"yeah... anyway, guess the old stylist got tired of fixing me, and ended up quitting a few weeks ago. of course, i'm basically the commission's 'golden boy'," you didn't even have to look up to know his eyes were rolling. "so i guess he was the best in the area. that's why they're looking for someone new now, and why i've been looking just a bit overgrown." he chuckled lightly.
his eyes followed as you picked out your sheers and comb, making your way in front of him. his classic smirk stayed on his face as you leaned in closer.
your voice was low as you bent over just slightly, raising his chair. "sorry, just need to do your front parts quickly..."
"no worries..."
"so... if your image is such an important part of the job, why'd they higherups trust you to someone like me?" you smiled faintly. his eyes fluttered closed as you began to trim the hair falling around them.
"actually, that was mirko's idea. she speaks pretty highly of you, ya know. besides, she thought maybe, if you did a good job, she could convince the commission to hire you to take care of me." he winked playfully. though it was perfectly in line with his personality and was likely a regular habit for him, it still made your stomach drop for a moment. "if you're interested that is. she thought you might be. no pressure, of course."
you moved back behind him as you felt your cheeks heat up, putting down your tools before facing away. "uh huh..."
"wooow, i can see why she's got so much faith in you." his smile was obvious in his voice. when you turned back to face the mirror, you saw him admiring his reflection, hair still slightly damp and falling into his eyes. "i look sexy~"
you laughed and put your hands on his shoulders. "yeah yeah, i haven't even styled it yet."
he chuckled softly turning his head from side to side with a sly grin. "i'm not even sure you need to, sweetheart. you do know best, though."
it was hard to miss the flirty tone in his voice, and harder to ignore now that he was throwing in nicknames, but you were sure it was just his personality. he was a reputation charmer, after all. his ever-lingering smile made you grip your hairdryer just a bit tighter every time you caught his gaze on yours in the mirror.
as you were adjusting his fluffy hair, you noticed the texture was slightly lacking. "hey, your hair is kinda dry..."
he quirked up an eyebrow. "really? that's weird, i take great care of my hair."
"i mean it's not too strange, high winds will definitely do that." you looked around your shelf for a moment before picking up a few products. "i can fix it though."
he watched curiously as you pumped some leave-in conditioner into your palm, rubbing your hands together. as your fingers found their way into his hair, you first saw him relax before you felt him slightly lean into your touch. he sighed contently as you took your time massaging the product into his scalp, not wanting to interrupt how relaxed he looked.
"okay..." you spoke softly, voice low. "you're all done."
you smiled and unbuttoned the cape, watching as his smile grew. "honestly? bang up job, princess. i see why you get such glowing reviews."
you laughed lightly and shrugged. "thank you, but it's really not a big deal." you turned your attention to the shelf of product again. "oh, before i forget-" you picked up a small pink tub and handed it to him. "just use this in place of your conditioner and leave it for like 5 minutes, whenever you shower. should help with the dryness a ton."
he picked up his coat and took the container from you, his fingers lingering on top of yours for just a moment. "thanks... i owe you one." he winked again, and again you felt your stomach drop.
in a matter of perfect timing, rumi finally pushed open the door of your salon again, three little bags and a coffee in hand. "hey, sorry i took so long! i ended up getting something for both of you though!"
she handed you a small bag with your favorite pastry inside, still warm. you thanked her with a warm smile, turning to hawks, who looked less amused.
"poppy seed muffin?" he scoffed, his playful smirk returning. "you're hilarious."
"ahh, i know i am." rumi laughed lightly and threw her arm around you, still looking at hawks. "nice cut, by the way. told you she could restore your sight." the three of you shared a laugh as she took a swig of her coffee. "anyway, why don't you get out of here? i'll walk y/n home and catch you later, yeah?"
he nodded. "sounds good. hey, y/n, what do i owe you for the fresh cut?"
"oh, don't worry about it. it was just a trim and last month you totally saved my block from getting blown sky high, so we'll call it even." you smiled softly as he pulled out his phone.
"aww c'mon, at lease let me tip you."
you rolled your eyes playfully, deciding to not fight him. "i have a venmo qr code on my mirror if you really feel so inclined, but really, don't worry about it."
he sauntered over to your mirror and scanned it, tapping on his phone as he made his way to your door. "thanks again! i'll get your number from rumi so i can call you up next time i need your help." his flashed his pearly whites one last time as he closed the door behind him.
you turned back to rumi, who had begun to tell you all about everything that's happened since you last sat down together, when a knock sounded from your front window. you looked out to see hawks motioning to his phone and winking one last time before he finally took off.
you smiled and knit your brows in playful confusion until you felt your phone buzz. it was a venmo from hawks, with nothing but a small heart as the note. rumi almost spit out her coffee when she saw it, and your jaw was already on the floor.
this man had just tipped you $200.
***
as it turns out, the next time hawks would "need your help" was sooner rather than later. it was hardly 5 days later when you were walking from the coffee shop across the street to your own salon when your phone rang with an unknown number. you picked it up, expecting one of your clients maybe calling to reschedule or cancel. instead, you were met with the whistling of wind and a familiar smooth talking voice.
"heyyy y/n! it's hawks, i went ahead and got your number from rumi."
"oh-" you almost stopped in the middle of the crosswalk due to your surprise. "hey, what's up? did something come up?"
"nothing bad, no. are you at work yet?"
you smirked as you pulled out the keys from your pocket, trying to find the right one as you got to your door. "just arrived, actually. why?" no response. "hawks?"
as you slipped the key into the slot, you looked down at your phone and saw the call had disconnected. "okay.."
when a sudden rush of scarlet filled your vision, you yelped and almost dropped your coffee. hawks had practically fallen from the sky and landed right next to you, standing close, his cocky grin unwavering.
"oh my God, you scared the hell out of me!" you clutched your chest, laughing and waiting for your soul to come back to your body at the same time.
he chuckled and pulled something from under his coat. "sorry 'bout that sweetheart... would these make up for it?"
he held out a small bouquet of flowers in your favorite color.
"wh- what? why..."
"when you did my hair, i noticed the ones you had on your front counter were dying. i saw these on my way in this morning and they reminded me of you and your shop, thought they would look nice in the place." he smiled as you took them gingerly. "consider it a thank you!"
you opened the salon door with an exasperated smile, feeling it grow wider when he followed you in. "well they're beautiful and i appreciate them, but believe me, the VERY generous tip was more than enough."
you put the flowers in the now empty vase, adjusting them when he got close behind you. your eyes widened as his hand found your lower back, pressing slightly, his breath close to your neck.
"c'mon princess, just let me express my gratitude~"
you didn't realize you were holding your breath until he stepped back and you suddenly let it go. when you turned to face him again, his playful fun smile was back and he looked so casual, you almost wondered if you had imagined whatever the hell that just was.
"anyway, i've gotta be in soon, and i imagine you've gotta get your shop opened up, yeah?"
"ah...yeah.."
"then i'll catch you later. have a good one!" he left with a signature wink before taking off.
whatever that morning was, became a regular thing. every few days he would drop by for a visit for whatever reason- replacing your flowers, bringing you a pastry in the morning, offering to walk you home after work, even though you only lived a half a dozen blocks away.
and with every little reason to see you, came some "harmless" flirting that made your stomach do somersaults.
finally after almost three weeks he had actually come to you for the smallest clean up. while you lightly snipped his ends, he asked if you had considered the position of being his personal groomer. you told him you wanted to think about it more and he told you not to worry about it, but he did have a favor to ask.
in a few days time, he needed to be at an important event. just a hero dinner of sorts, it was meant to be all over the media though, so he needed to dress to impress. after seeing your work with rumi, the commission approved of you making hawks camera ready (upon his request, of course). it just standard hair and makeup, but it was an important job nonetheless.
against the better judgement you'd gained over the last few weeks of dealing with him, you agreed swiftly.
so here you were, outside his door with your cosmetology bag, ready to make up him and rumi.
rumi would take longer for both hair and makeup, so you decided to start with hawks. so she would be coming over later, which left just you. and him. alone. in his penthouse apartment. what could possibly go wrong.
aside front that he answered the door shirtless in sweatpants, nothing. so far.
he stood with one hand on the doorframe, the other on the door itself, towering over you with a sly grin. you had to force your eyes to stay on his face instead of wandering down to his incredibly cut core. you felt your stomach flood with butterflies as the softest flush covered your face, and he didn't take long to notice.
"you've got some good eye contact, sweetheart, i'll give you that."
his smile relaxed a bit as he stepped out of your way, opening the doorway of his apartment to you. you stepped in without mentioning any of whatever the hell just happened, biting the inside of your cheek with a soft smile.
you held up your bag, looking around. "where should i..?"
"ah," he began to move towards his living area, just a couple couches with a chair gathered around a coffee table. he plopped himself down on the soft rug of all places, in front of the table. "figured this might be a good place since, you know, you've got plenty of natural light to work with."
he was right, the entire wall across from his front door was basically made entirely of glass. it left a beautiful view of kyushu outside, with a terrace you imagined would be perfect to watch the sunrise from.
you smiled as you sat across from him, both of you cross-legged. "yeah, it's perfect actually..."
"perfect..." he mumbled to himself. his gaze lingered on you as you pulled out your makeup bag.
"so." you turned to him and scooted a bit closer, reaching a hand towards his face. "do you mind if i..." you hesitated, halting your hand just before your fingers grazed his skin.
he gulped and nodded, confident smirk faded as his pulse picked up. you lightly cradled his jaw and carefully turned his head from side to side.
"well you've got great skin... smooth, not oily, i doubt i'll have to do any base..." your voice was low as you spoke, talking more to yourself than him. he just hardly nodded as you inspected him closely. "i'll give you some highlight and contour though, just for the camera... your eyelashes are stunning..."
he cracked a small smile. "thanks.."
you returned the look and met his eyes. "you're welcome..."
time seemed to still between you for a moment. his eyes flicked to your lips for the shortest instant, you almost missed it. he inhaled deeply before clearing his throat and looking to the side. you sucked in a quick breath as you turned your attention back to your makeup bag, digging out a brush and a couple of small product bottles. you handed him a headband, still not looking at him.
"ah, so..." you took a deep breath before finally facing him. "here, i'll just go in with a thin base just in case. flash photography isn't the most flattering lighting,"
he chuckled softly, deep in his chest, and your heart skipped a beat.
the next few minutes went by with minimal conversation, mostly just you letting him know what you were doing now, and him nodding along or making small sounds of approval. silence otherwise filled the room as you tried to focus on your work, though his eyes constantly wandering over all of you made it slightly difficult.
when you finally made it to his classic eyeliner, you accidentally let your gaze wander to his lips. you pushed aside all your thoughts and impulses and channeled your inner makeup artist.
"hey hawks..."
he opened his eyes as you moved the eyeliner pen away. "hmm?"
"your lips are kinda pale, would it be okay if i put a little stain on them?"
"oh," he bit his lip and furrowed his brow. "yeah for sure, i'm probably a bit dehydrated." his smirk was back, resting on his lips comfortably.
"yeah.." you took another deep breath, trying to keep your face from getting too pink. "the lipstick i've got now should actually work fine, its somewhere in my purse..." you picked up your highlight stick and put your fingers under his chin to turn his head to the side. "i'll get it in a second..."
he hums softly in response. you carefully applied the highlights to all the right places, emphasizing his cheekbones and the tip of his already curved nose. you heard his breath falter, just slightly, when you cupped his face in your hand, using your thumb to blend it out on his cheek. to your surprise, he closed his eyes and leaning into your touch. it was your turn to have trouble breathing, even more so when he placed his hand over your own and looked at you with a piercing gaze. you stopped what you had been doing all together, frozen as he turned his head. he pressed a small kiss to your wrist, then another, his lips lingering for just a second longer this time.
at this point your heart was in your throat trying to process what was happening. when he turned his gaze back to you, everything stopped. his friendly smile was gone, replaced with a fierce look, demanding and intense. neither of you moved for a moment, just stared. your stomach jumped as his eyes moved to take a long look at your lips. the second his gaze met yours again, he pulled on your wrist, practically yanking you into his lap. his hands moved quickly, one pressing against your lower back (a touch you'd actually grown used to form him) and the other cradling the base of your neck.
you could feel his breath on your lips. all you had to do was tilt your chin and you would feel them against yours. his hand on your neck moved up into your hair, looking at you through half lidded eyes.
"can i kiss you?" he practically breathed out his words, softer than a whisper.
you took a deep inhale and closed your eyes. "yes."
you'd hardly gotten the word out before he pressed his lips against yours forcefully, hungrily. his kiss was demanding, like he had been waiting for the longest time to finally get this from you. you tangled your hands in his hair, smirking just a bit. it was soft.
he finally pulled away, keeping close to you. both your faces were flushed deeply, and yours only got worse when you remembered he wasn't wearing a top.
"y/n..." the way your name rolled off his tongue made you shiver. or maybe it was his hand on your back, creeping beneath your shirt.
"hawks-"
"kiego."
your eyes widened as he pressed his lips to your jaw, feathering kisses all the way down towards your neck.
rumi showed up just after you had finally started on kiego's hair. as expected, her makeover ended up taking significantly longer, but the three of you didn't mind. by the time you finished curling her gorgeous (but VERY long) hair, it was time for them to go. they both looked spectacular in their dresswear, and you had to struggle to keep your composure helping kiego with his tie. his sly little grin never left his face as you messed with the fabric, trying to remember how, instead of thinking about his lips.
when you had packed up all your stuff and started to get ready to leave, kiego stopped you.
"its already dark out! why don't you just kick back and stay here for a while, yeah? i'll only be gone a few hours. make yourself at home." he had leaned close to your ear, his breath tickling your neck. "besides, we've gotta... talk more, when i get back~"
you agreed quickly, not wanting to seem suspicious in front of rumi. as much as you wanted to tell her, and knew you would soon, you needed to get a few things settled first.
so here you were, sitting in his apartment. even though he was insistent on you making yourself at home, the most you had really done was play some music, use one of his water glasses, and kick back on his couch.
you checked the time again. as far as you could tell, the event had ended just a bit ago. you had checked a few news outlets, seeing some clips already uploaded from the beginning of the evening. almost every one of hawks was him refusing to shut up about the new stylist who had gotten him looking so nice, and furthermore insisting whoever it was, was a secret (for now).
those were your favorites.
in the middle of a clip you were watching of rumi going over her latest fight, you heard keys in the door. you sat up on the couch and watched hawks walk in, a tired smile decorating his face. his jacket was thrown over his arm and his tie was undone, hanging around his neck loosely. the sleeves of his shirt had been rolled up his forearms, exposing a few cord bracelets.
"hey, sweetheart." he kept his gaze on yours as he tossed his jacket to the side, along with his tie. he slowly sauntered towards the couch, unbuttoning the first few buttons on his shirt. "glad you stuck around~"
his tone was flirty, but tired, and it was so attractive.
he settled on the couch almost on top of you, one of his legs between yours as a hand on your chest guided you to lie back.
"hey kiego..." you blushed and smiled as one of his hands found your waist. "how was the dinner?"
he pressed his body against yours, sighing as he relaxed into you. "exhausting... let's talk about it tomorrow."
you chuckled and tangled your hand in his hair, playing with it and massaging his scalp. he pressed lazy kisses to your neck, making you blush harder.
"be my girlfriend... stay over tonight... stay forever..." he said between kisses.
you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, melting into his gentle touch.
"okay.. <3"
DAMN BRO THAT ENDED UP BEING A LOT LONGER THAN I MEANT IT TO BE- "little short" YEAH OKAY SHORTY,
5619 words, which is almost 13 full pages in google docs omg-
sorry and you're welcome <33
idk if any of my future writing will be this long but ig we'll see ! at least i can say i'm starting out strong lol
i haven't the foggiest where this idea came from and as of rn i have scarcely any others, so if anybody wants me to write something short or long or whatever to any specific idea my inbox is open for requests !!
SYNOPSIS. a villain being in love with a hero always ends in heartbreak
"Dammit!" (y/n) hisses, tears pricking her eyes.
She sits on the toilet seat in her bathroom, her heart beating against her chest. Her hand trembles as she holds the pregnancy test, staring at the two pink lines. It's positive.
The test falls to the tiled floor. The pink lines taunt (y/n), confirming her worst fears. It feels like the walls are closing in on her as she struggles to catch her breath. Her tears finally fall down her cheeks.
Her upbringing was far from ordinary. Being born into a family of villains, (y/n) was trained to follow in her parent's footsteps and expected to revel in the destruction of hero society. She's never known the warmth and stability of a happy family. The idea of love and nurturing feels foreign.
How could she possibly handle the responsibility of raising a child? She can barely look after herself. Her mind races with thoughts, doubts, and fears, threatening to engulf her in a tidal wave of uncertainty.
Taking deep breaths, (y/n) attempts to calm herself. She closes her eyes and presses a hand to her stomach. She couldn't deny the truth of carrying another living being within her. But another presence invades her thoughts, Keigo.
"Shit," she whispers, eyes opening. "How am I tell gonna tell him?"
Keigo is a Pro Hero, a god the civilians of Japan praise. And (y/n)'s a former villain, a convict still wanted by Japan.
How would the public react to their relationship? What would happen now that she's carrying the child of the Number 3 Pro Hero? Does Keigo even want to be a father?
(y/n) shakes her head, shooing away those thoughts.
"It's okay. You're going to be okay," (y/n) says, trying to reassure herself. "I've dealt with worse and got through it. This will be easy." She pauses. "Hopefully."
Gathering her strength, (y/n) picks up the pregnancy test and throws it in the bin beside the toilet. She walks to the sink to wash her hands and clean her face.
The water cools down her face, but when (y/n) sees her reflection in the mirror, she sees how unattractive she looks. Her eyes are puffy, her face red, and her nose scrunches to stop the snot from running.
She looks far from happy at that moment. She knows that. But all she can do is put up a front and pretend she is. So she smiles and hopes for the best when Keigo arrives later after patrol.
But fate has other plans.
As (y/n) opens her refrigerator to grab a bottle of water, a knock at the balcony sliding door interrupts her. She stares at the glass door, her heart skipping and her grip on the plastic bottle tightening when her eyes lock with Keigo's golden ones.
She smiles. "Fuck me."
(y/n) moves to unlock the sliding door, inviting the winged hero inside before closing it again. Keigo stands in the middle of the lounge, unusual from the routine (y/n) was used to. Normally, he would hug and kiss her by now, but today is different. Her senses are telling her something is wrong.
"Not that I don't love your company," she starts nervously, "You're usually only over once the sun is down. So what's the occasion?"
Keigo's gaze avoids (y/n)'s, allowing his eyes to roam around the apartment that's felt like home for the last couple of months. (y/n) can feel the tension in the air. But before she can ask another question, Keigo utters the words she fears.
"(y/n), we need to talk."
(y/n) breathes through her nose, her heart sinking as she sits on the couch. She crosses her arms, hoping it will somehow protect her from hearing what Keigo needs to say. Keigo turns to look at her, and (y/n) searches Keigo's eye for answers, but all she finds is emptiness.
"I- We can't do this anymore, (y/n)," Keigo says, his voice tired. "We're just not meant to be."
(y/n) inhales sharply through her teeth. The room seems to spin, and the world blurs around her. How could Keigo leave her? Now, of all times to do so?
Tears well up in (y/n)'s eyes, but she fights to hold them back. She turns her head, not wanting Keigo to see her like this. She won't let him see her weakness, her vulnerability.
She shakily sighs. "I should've known this was coming."
Her elbow moves to sit on the couch's arm, and her hand covers her mouth as she shakes her head. She closes her eyes momentarily before opening them and uncovers her mouth.
"I should've known that a hero couldn't love a villain." Her voice trembles as she continues. "I'm so stupid to think I could live a normal life and be happy. But villains don't get happily ever afters." She turns to face Keigo. "Only tragedies."
"(y/n), it's not like that."
"Really?" She scoffs. "Then please, explain to me what other reason you would have to want to break up with me?"
Anger and hurt swell within (y/n). How could he leave her after everything they've been through together? Did the promises he made years ago mean nothing to him?
Keigo hesitates, his gaze falling to the floor. "I've found someone else."
"Bullshit!" (y/n) exclaims, standing up to point an accusing finger at the blond. "If you're going to lie to me, at least make sure it's believable. It took me months to get you to break down your walls and even learn your first name!" she argues, "I highly doubt you found a bitch that made you crack that quickly."
The silence between them is deafening, but (y/n)'s ragged breaths and rapid heartbeat cut the stillness.
"If you have nothing else to say, just leave," she says.
Keigo turns to open the glass door, oblivious to (y/n)'s secret. She wants to tell him the truth, to make him understand the gravity of their situation, but she won't beg him to stay if he won't willingly.
"But I hope you know you're making the biggest mistake of your life." Her words cause Keigo to stop in his tracks. "And you're going to regret it in the future."
Keigo glances at her. "I know."
(y/n) nods. "Just making sure."
Keigo's red wings outstretch as he stands on the balcony. They beat against the air, and he takes off, soaring through the sky.
(y/n) quickly locks the door and pulls the curtain closed before she crumbles to the floor, clutching her knees to her body and letting the tears flow freely.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, "I'm sorry."
(y/n)'s alone, facing a future with the weight of motherhood on her young shoulders. She knows she has to find the strength to face this situation as usual, but for now, all she can do is grieve the loss of Keigo and her broken heart.
