kiss the bird boy and win a price!

You weren’t expecting anyone. Your apartment was quiet, lights low, the spring breeze floating in through the cracked window—cooling your skin after a long, ordinary day.

And then… that knock. Frantic. Sharp. Followed by a low, gravelly voice.

"Please—open the door."

You froze.

You knew that voice. You’d know it anywhere. But you’d never heard it like this—hoarse, breathless, raw.

When you opened the door, Keigo was already leaning into the frame, his forehead damp with sweat, golden eyes glassy and half-lidded like he hadn’t slept in days.

"Fuck," he breathed the second he saw you. His wings shivered behind him, twitching and drawn in tight, too tight. "You’re—fuck, you smell so good—please."

Your voice barely came out. "Keigo, what—what’s wrong with you?"

He didn’t answer at first. He just stumbled inside and kicked the door shut behind him with one booted foot. His body heat hit you instantly—he was burning up.

"Rut," he gasped. "It’s—it started early. I—I didn’t want to bother you but—" His pupils dilated, dragging slowly over the shape of you, chest heaving. "Couldn’t go anywhere else. Smelled you and—shit, please, help me—I can’t think straight—feels like I’m dying."

His wings flared and then trembled.

"Keigo—"

"I’ll be good," he begged, dropping to his knees so suddenly it startled you. His forehead pressed to your belly, panting like a man starved. "I’ll be so good, please—just let me have you. Just once. One taste. You don’t even have to do anything—please, please, please—"

You cupped his face. "God, Keigo—you’re shaking."

He moaned into your skin, rubbing his cheek along your thigh like he couldn’t get close enough. "It hurts, baby. I need you—I need your body—want your scent all over me—need to feel you under me—inside you—fuck, I need to fill you—"

Your breath caught. "Y-you mean…"

"I want to breed you," he growled, voice cracking. "Want to fuck you full and keep you there—over and over—‘til it sticks."

The heat between your legs surged. You should’ve told him no. You should have pushed him off.

But instead, you whispered, "Okay."

He froze.

Then: "You’re serious?"

"…Yeah."

"F-fuck—fuck," he groaned as he kissed up your inner thighs with open-mouthed, shaking need, licking at the heat between them through your panties before ripping them off—no warning.

Tongue immediately on your pussy, licking broad, desperate strokes, nose pressed against your clit. He moaned like it hurt to finally have what he wanted, like your taste was divine relief after hours of hell.

His tongue was hot and wet and deep, swirling inside you, pulling sounds from your throat you didn’t even know you could make.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t stop to praise you. Just ate. Loud, messy, obscene. Like a man trying to drink from a faucet on full blast—slurping your slick like it was the only thing that could soothe the fire in his veins.

When you came, he didn’t stop.

If anything, he got worse.

His tongue pressed even deeper, now with three fingers thrusting up into your pussy, crooking until you cried out, tears dotting your lashes. And even then—even then—he whined when he pulled away.

"Need to be inside you," he begged. "Now—fuck, now, baby, please—fuck me, milk me dry—I can’t—need your cunt, need it wrapped around me—tight and wet and hot—fuckfuckfuck—"

He stripped in seconds. You barely had time to blink before he was pulling you down onto the floor, lips crashing into yours. You tasted yourself on his tongue—he didn't care. He kissed you with teeth, with moans, with desperate gasps.

Then he grabbed his cock—thick, leaking, red at the tip—and rubbed it through your folds with trembling hands.

"Fuck, you’re wet—fuck, you’re soaked—this for me?"

You couldn’t speak. Just nodded.

He didn’t ease in.

He split you.

One long, slow thrust, and he bottomed out, forehead against yours, both of you breathless.

You weren’t sure who moaned louder.

His wings slammed against the wall behind him, feathers falling around you both like ash.

You clenched around him, and his whole body shuddered.

"Fuck—fuck, do that again," he growled.

You did—and he lost it.

He started moving, hard and deep, rhythm erratic, hips slamming into yours with animalistic force. The sound of skin on skin, the squelch of your soaked cunt dragging him back in, the filthy panting of his voice—it was overwhelming.

He was fucking you like he owned you.

His head dropped to your neck, teeth grazing skin.

"Need to mark you," he gasped. "Need you to smell like me—mine, mine, mine—"

He bit you. Just enough to sting. Enough to leave a bruise.

"You feel s-so good—tight little pussy—squeezing me like you want it—"

"I do—Keigo, fuck—"

"That’s right. Say my name while I fuck a baby into you—gonna fill you up—gonna breed you like you were made for me—"

His cock twitched. His thrusts got sloppy, desperate. He pulled you flush against his chest, legs wrapped around his waist, wings fluttering wildly.

"Gonna cum," he warned, voice wrecked. "Gonna cum so deep, baby—gonna fucking ruin you."

You came again, spasming around him—and that broke him.

He buried himself to the hilt and came with a guttural, broken sound—cock pulsing inside you, rope after thick rope of cum flooding your womb.

He didn’t pull out.

He stayed buried.

"Gotta make it take," he whispered into your neck. "Gotta keep it in. Gotta stay inside you. Please let me stay."

You nodded, limp, trembling.

He held you close, wings wrapping you both in warmth.

"…You’re not gonna kick me out, right?" he asked, quieter now. Almost scared. "I—I wanna keep going. Wanna keep filling you. Again. Again—until it sticks. Until you’re mine."

Your fingers slid through his damp hair.

"…Then don’t stop."

His head snapped up.

And the look in his eyes—feral, grateful, possessive, full of love and lust—made you wonder if you were ever going to get up off the floor again.

Sunlight creeps in.

It slips across your eyelids with quiet fingers, warm and gentle, pulling you from a sleep so heavy you might’ve drowned in it. Your body aches—slow and deep, like you ran a marathon with every muscle in your core and legs.

Or, more accurately, got fucked into the floor by a rutting pro hero who couldn’t stop saying your name.

Your lips are dry. Your thighs are sticky. There’s something warm and solid cradling your back—and when you shift slightly, trying to get your bearings, you feel it:

He hasn’t moved.

Still wrapped around you, pressed up behind you with that same insatiable heat.

The room is hot and quiet, except for the sound of Keigo’s ragged breathing and the soft rustle of feathers as his wings stretch and twitch beside you.

His body is draped over yours, heavy, golden hair sticking to your collarbone, his thigh wedged between yours like he can’t let go. You shift again—your body sore, oversensitive.

He groans quietly, hand slipping down between your thighs.

"Sorry," he murmurs. "I just… can’t stop thinking about you. Still smell like me. Still so soft and warm."

His fingers are tender but greedy, ghosting over your folds, gathering the mess he left behind.

"You made me feel so good," he says, pressing wet kisses to your shoulder, the shell of your ear. "Wanna return the favor. Wanna worship you right."

You gasp as his fingers slide up, gentle circles over your clit.

No thrusting. No rut-fueled madness.

Just slow, reverent touch.

He kisses down your spine, shifts you onto your back, and makes his way lower. Down your stomach. Down your thighs.

You part them for him without a word.

He hums, eyes half-lidded and greedy as he licks a long, slow stripe through your folds. "Still taste like heaven."

And then—he feasts.

Not the wild, mindless eating from last night. This is something else entirely. Controlled. Focused.

Tongue dragging slow, sinful circles around your clit. Sucking it between his lips. Letting go with a pop only to moan softly against you. Fingers dancing around your entrance but never slipping inside—just teasing, stroking, caressing your inner thighs while his mouth works you over.

You’re trembling in minutes.

He holds your hips down gently, whispering, "That’s it, baby. Let me take care of you. Let me feel you fall apart."

And you do.

You come with a soft, broken cry, legs shaking around his head.

But he doesn’t stop.

He licks you through it. Again. And again.

Two more times before you’re breathless and boneless, tears slipping down your cheeks.

He finally crawls up and kisses them away, nestling you against his chest.

"I’ll run you a bath in a sec," he murmurs. "Clean you up. Bring you breakfast. I even picked up all the feathers. I think. Mostly."

You blink. "You stayed?"

He pauses. Just a moment.

"…Of course I did."

You glance over your shoulder. He’s looking at you like you hung the sun.

"I mean," he says quietly, "I know it was rut-crazy, but—I didn’t just come here because of that. I came here because it was you."

"…Keigo…"

"I tried to go somewhere else," he admits, "but my wings wouldn’t take me. My body kept dragging me toward you. Not just my cock—like, me. All of me."

You turn in his arms—wincing a little—and cup his cheek.

He leans into it immediately, like he’s starved for your touch.

"I’m sorry if I crossed a line," he whispers. "I should’ve told you how I felt before I showed up feral and begged to cum inside you like ten times. But I couldn’t—I didn’t know if I’d ruin everything. You’re my best friend, and I was scared—"

You shut him up with a kiss.

He melts into it. Instantly. Groaning low, hands gripping your hips like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

"I like you too, dumbass," you whisper against his lips. "Even before you broke my pelvis."

He laughs, eyes glinting with a watery edge. "Yeah?"

You nod, smiling.

His arms wrap around you again, dragging you closer—slow, protective, reverent. You’re both sweaty, messy, half-broken and sore, but when he looks at you now, it’s with everything he didn’t say last night.

"I’m yours," he says softly. "If you’ll have me."

Your heart skips.

"I already do."

flip the switch

“I didn’t realize it was actually this big of a deal.”

Eddie cranes his head at your voice, only being able to catch a glimpse of you from his precarious angle atop the ladder. “Ah, hey live wire,” he says as he turns back to his task. “Gimme a minute to finish this, yeah?”

He’s hanging a banner across the top shelf of the bar, decorated with bright, hand-painted lightning bolts and stars across the dark fabric. In a darling, cursive font, it reads, “Happy Birthday Volt!”

You look around the empty bar, see the stage adorned with balloons, the tables strewn with party hats and glitter. The Breaker Box, on any given night, is vibrant, lively, electric, but not often is it bright, with an anticipation in the air for celebration. You like it, you think, it’s different, in a way that makes you feel like a kid again.

You hear Eddie sigh, and you turn to see him lean back, survey his work. He studies the banner for a moment before calling over his shoulder, “Hey babe?”

“Yes?”

“Is it straight?”

“As an arrow, Eddie.”

He huffs as he descends the ladder. “Works for me then.”

You meet him behind the bar after he puts the ladder away, and he gives you a kiss on your cheek before he starts to fix himself a drink. “Want anything?” You nod, accept the cocktail he creates, and you lean against the bar with him. He must notice how your eyes keep flitting to the balloons, to the banner, to the white cake box that sits at the end of the bar, because he takes a long sip of his drink before saying, “It, uh, yeah, is a pretty big deal.”

You look over at him, surprised by the shyness in his voice that you haven’t heard notes of in months. “A big deal, because it’s Volt?” you ask, watching his face, see his brows furrow. “I know he’s a diva, he’s our diva, but surely he doesn’t ask for something like this every year.” You pause when Eddie doesn’t answer, only takes another sip. You ask, a bit incredulously, “Does he?”

Eddie sighs, tilts his head back, his grey eyes staring holes into the bottles behind the bar. “It’s not a big deal for us.” His fingers spin the tumbler in his hand, the liquid sloshing around the glass. “It’s… a pretty big deal to the rest of the house. Holly,” he nods at the banner, “Mitchell,” at the white box, “Stefan. Winnie. Mayor Celia.” He shrugs his shoulders, shuffles his weight on his feet. “It means a lot to them, I guess, having someone in the house that was actually… born.”

You blink, the connotation his words registering, aware of the silence that’s growing between you and Eddie, but he seems to pay it no mind, taking small sips of his drinks. Your brows furrow, and you turn your body to face his, steady yourself with one hand on the bar, before you finally ask, “Volt’s… the only one with a birthday.”

It comes out a bit more like a statement than a question, but Eddie nods all the same. “Yeah. Birthday, ‘sparked into existence’ day, whatever you wanna call it.” He puts a hand out in front of him. “There was a time before Volt.” He makes a sweeping arch with the hand. “And then, Volt was here.” Finally, he turns his gaze to yours, his lightning brows arched on his forehead. “That’s as close as we can get, I guess.”

“But what about -”

“Days they joined the house? Dates of manufacturing lots?” Eddie cocks his head, and you can’t quite read the look in his grey eyes, though it almost seems amused. “That doesn’t apply to all of us.”

Us?

Your lips fall open, words stuck on your tongue, and now you’re really, really studying Eddie’s face. “Eddie,” you finally manage, and his brows raise even more, expectantly. “How old are you?”

He chuckles, softly, and raises the glasses to his lips as he asks, “How old’s the house?”

“I… don’t know.”

He nods, the smallest of smirks on the corners of his lips. “Then, I don’t know. Like I said, it’s not so simple for all of us. You wanna ask River how old she is? She’s fucking water, live wire.”

Huh, you think. Guess that was true. 

He finishes his drink, sets it on the bar, and crosses his arms as he turns to face you. “Like I said. He and I would be more than happy to treat it like any other day. Well, maybe me more than him. But the others like…” he pauses, and you can see the wires connect in his mind as he finds the right phrase, “they like the idea that, we could create something. Create life.”

You nod. “But,” you ask, quietly, “can they?”

Eddie inhales deeply, his chest rising before letting it out, heavy through his nose. His own voice is quiet now too. “I don’t know that either.”

You’ve never asked about where Volt really came from, outside of the cursory explanation Eddie had given the night of the reset. That Eddie had split himself, made Volt out of necessity, their very essence comprised of something that powered both of them. “Sparked into existence,” was how they always phrased it, and they never offered more than that.

“But you did.”

Eddie’s quiet at that, but he nods. “Yeah. I did.”

“How?”

Eddie groans, and he rolls his eyes, exaggerates it, before running a hand through the coils of his hair. “I knew one day you’d ask me that. And live wire, I’ll tell you what I tell everyone else.” He points a finger at you, a sparkle in his eye. “That I. Don’t. Know.”

You blink, immediately confused, feeling the gears in your brain try to process. “What?”

“I don’t know how I did it.” He throws his hands up in surrender before dropping them to the bar, leaning against the cold, curved wood. A small veil of something falls over his face, almost always, stoic face, making him look more… contemplative. Yeah, that’s the right word, you decide. “I just… remember the pain. How frayed I was, a fucking dead man walking. And I thought, if I could just,” he gestures with his hands, like tearing a paper, “rip it out of me, split myself off from what was holding me back from doing my literal fucking job…” his hands turn to fists, and he studies them for a moment before dropping them. “I remember wanting, needing that with every electron inside me. And then, there was just this flash of white light. And I woke up,” he nods his head towards the back room, “to a white eyes staring at me.”

You’re quiet, a bit unsure what to say, and waiting to see if he speaks again. You reach out to touch his arm, wanting to be near him, and he settles into your touch, grey eyes finding yours, and a soft smile on his lips.

“Sorry it’s a bit anticlimactic,” he says with a small laugh. “But I’m not harboring any secrets on how household objects can procreate under my sleeves.”

You smile too, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You hear, in the back of your mind, something else they’d said that night - “we’re not one thing, but we’re not two things, either.”

You turn the memory over in your mind, working out how to phrase your next question. You swallow, purse your lips, then say, “Eddie, I don’t want you to be freaked out by what I’m gonna ask.”

He cocks a brow, and a corner of his mouth twitches up, and you see a flash of his canines. “Alright.”

You steel yourself for whatever answer he gives. “What is Volt, to you?”

Eddie licks his lips and studies your face. You see him catch your implication, and he takes a deep breath. “I can tell you what he’s not. He’s not my brother, and he’s not my kid, if that’s what’s suddenly worrying you. Though your timing is a little late in asking that.”

You fight how your eyes want to roll. “But he’s something.”

His eyes soften, and he worries his bottom lip with his teeth before saying, in perhaps the smallest voice you’ve ever heard from him, “I think… I think he’s my soul.” He must notice how wide your eyes get, how high your brows shoot, because he adds, quickly, “Most, or part, of it, at least. I don’t,” he runs a hand through hair again, tugging slightly at the frayed ends, “I don’t know. But, what I feel, what we feel, it’s… deep. Cut from the same thing. So, that’s my best guess.”

The look in Eddie’s eyes makes your heart swell - it threatens to rip itself out of your chest and throw itself at his feet. It’s a look of pure, electric, love, and you, not for the first time, cannot believe that you are lucky enough to be loved by him. By both of them. Because maybe you knew, deep down, that that would be Eddie’s answer, that there was no other explanation for how they literally completed each other. 

And what a privilege, what a wonder, that they thought you completed them.

You bring your hands up to his chest, press yourself against him, needing him, his touch, and he brings his hands to your face without a word, the two of you fitting together with ease. His thumbs run over your cheeks, hot under his touch, and he asks in a teasing voice, “Did that answer your question?”

“Yes,” you admit, your voice full of more emotion than you were expecting. “I love you. I love you both, Eddie.”

He hums as he smiles. “Yeah? Well, we love you too. And I didn’t even have to make you in a blind fury to ease my suffering.”

You try to smack his chest, but he’s too quick, and his lips are on yours before you can retort. He’s warm, always so warm, and you wonder if he’ll truly make you melt one day.

“Kissing our partner before me, live wire? On my own birthday?”

You break away at Volt’s voice, echoing in the unusually empty club, and your breath catches at the sight of him. His usual vest and wired coat have been traded for a stunning black suit, adorned with golden lightning bolts across the shoulders, and his usual copper cuffs replaced with a few gold bangles. He looks lush, expensive, gorgeous, and so fucking hot.

He chuckles at the look on your face, your slack jaw, as he steps to meet you and Eddie. “See something you like, darling?”

“Hell yes,” you say, at the same time that Eddie says, “Fuck you.”

Volt’s grin is devilish, charming, electrifying. “Later, Eddie dear. We have to entertain before I can open my presents.” As he says it, his white eyes rake over your body, taking in every inch of the glam ensemble you’d thrown on for the party, and he licks his lips. “And I think I’ll take my time unwrapping them.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie grumbles, though his eyes sparkle, and he pecks your forehead. “Now I gotta get changed, everyone’ll be here soon.”

He takes a step to leave, but Volt shoots him a teasing look as he blocks him with a hand. “Ah ah, as I said, the birthday boy is lacking in kisses.”

“The ones I give your dick this morning not count?” 

You can’t contain your laugh as, shocked, Volt lets him pass, Eddie not even giving him a glance back. But you stop, immediately, when he turns his attention back to you, and the look on his face is both terrifying and exciting as fuck.

“Fine,” he purrs. “I’ll just have to get my fill from you, then.”

When Eddie comes back downstairs, he has to tear him off you, has to repeat over and over to Volt that no, just because it was his birthday, he still could not eat you out on the bar.

You’ve never seen the Breaker Box as full as it is for Volt’s party. Nearly everyone is here, packed together around the tables, sitting on the edge of the stage, primed with champagne and a charge of excitement you’ve not seen them buzz with before. Volt greets them all with ease, like he was made to mingle - you wonder, actually, if he was. You help Eddie behind the bar, knowing this sort of thing isn’t his forte, though he doesn’t look as fatigued as you expected, even as he serves cocktail after cocktail, as Mitchell grills him on the origin of their citrus, or as Barry talks a mile a minute. 

Mayor Celia makes a small toast, tells a story about how everyone remembers the shock (she gets laughter at that) of Volt’s arrival, and how he truly brings a warmth, an ease, to the house. You and Eddie are with him as she speaks, and after the Cheers!, he kisses you, then Eddie, to whoops and hollers, before pulling both of you onto the dance floor.

It’s late when the crowd finally thins out, and you’re playing some incomprehensible drinking game with Parker and Rainey when Eddie announces last call. Volt’s with him behind the bar, chatting with him while he has yet another slice of cake, and your heart swells again when you glance over at them, in awe of how easy and how right everything is. Volt, ever observant, must feel you looking, and he throws a wink over at you that makes you blush.

When finally, finally, the club is empty again, the three of you are sat at the bar, your bare feet thrown over Volt’s lap, your head resting on Eddie’s shoulder. Connected. Together.

“Volt,” you say, your voice tired, and he hums as he looks up at you. “Did you have fun?”

He smiles, runs a hand over your leg. “Always, little spark. But,” his touch creeps higher up your calf, “don’t I still have my presents to open?”

You’re all up the stairs in a flash, a trail of your clothes on the steps, all of you a mess of hands, lips, teeth, pulling and petting and just wanting to feel each other, and it’s only because you know them so well that you can feel the difference of their skin on yours - Eddie’s, that hums like a current, and Volt’s, that buzzes with power. You melt under their hands, and suddenly, you’re on the bed, watching them kiss, watching them pull each other’s coats off without even parting. 

When Volt’s lips move to Eddie’s neck, Eddie’s steel eyes find yours, and he keeps your gaze as he wraps a hand in Volt’s hair and says into his ear, “Hey birthday boy, you gonna tell ‘em what you want?”

You hear Volt’s chuckle, muffled against Eddie’s skin, before he stands back up and turns to you, his hand hanging off Eddie’s neck. “Mm, I suppose I should.”

Before you can blink, he’s above you, hands on either side of you, and you shudder at his white hot eyes when he says, in a voice smooth as silk, “I would rather love to fuck you, my live wire.”

Okay, that wasn’t too wei--

“While our Eddie fucks me.”

Oh, fuck. 

“Oh, fuuuck,” you moan, your cunt clenching at the thought, the anticipation, and you press your legs together as tight as you can. Volt’s resulting chuckle only makes it worse. 

“Do you think we can do that for me, my darling?” He coos, dipping his head to your ear, the ends of his hair shocking your skin where it tickles your neck. “For my birthday, hm?”

You moan again at this voice, his lips, his fucking everything, a shiver enveloping your body pinned beneath him, and it takes every ounce of your resolve to nod, to moan a, “yes, yes, please.”

Volt’s tongue licks your ear, and you throw your hands up to claw at his chest as your back arches off the bed. “Very good, little spark. How about,” another lick, another plea from your lips, “I finish what we started at the bar? While Eddie gets me ready for him?”

You nod, but then quickly whimper a yes, knowing you’d get a shock to your skin if you didn’t, and he leans up, finds your waist with his hands, and pushes you up the bed. You curse when he spreads your legs, settles on his stomach, and his eyes glimmer at the sight of you, wet and aching for touch.

You see him bite his lip, and there’s a shock to your clit as his fingers find your folds, and you hear him mutter, in a quiet voice, “Happy birthday to me,” and then you scream, because he feasts.

Your back shoots off the bed, your fingers claw at their sheets, and your ankles lock around Volt’s neck as his tongue works you, expertly, knowingly, and the warmth, the current he creates within you travels to every inch of your body. When you feel his fingers press inside you, your eyes open, needing to see him, but it’s then you notice Eddie’s dark hair at the end of the bed, settled between Volt’s legs, having a feast for himself.

You think it might be the fastest you’ve ever cum, screaming their names, and you hear both of them hum as the legs shake, lightning flashing behind your eyes.

But Volt doesn’t let up, doesn’t slow his fingers, and you feel his breath against your throbbing clit as he pulls away, says, “let’s have another, my darling, as a present, hm?” and your throat is raw as he goes right back to giving you long, slow licks, before his tongue practically starts vibrating around you.

You hear him groan after a minute, and through heavy lids, you watch Eddie lift himself up, run his hands over Volt’s ass, before you watch his fingers slide inside, and Volt’s resulting moan sends shockwaves through your belly. 

Eddie’s titanium eyes pin yours down, and his free hand finds the small of Volt’s back, pressing him down when he starts to arch. You know he can see the tears that are pooling at the edge of your eyes, the uncontrollable shake of your leg, and he fucking smiles - you think you hate him, hate both of them, as you feel Volt’s teeth scrape against you.

“They’re close, Volt,” Eddie hums, his grin showing his teeth. “You gonna make them gush for us, birthday boy?”

Volt’s tongue finds a truly brutal pace, his fingers slipping in and out of you with quick, slick sounds, and he does just that. The lightning flashes again, stealing your breath, and your body goes slack as your orgasm rips through every electrified cell in your body.

When you blink, a moment later, Volt is above you again, peppering small kisses to your collarbones, your shoulder. He feels you stir, and white eyes dart to yours. “You, our spark, are the most delectable birthday treat.” A kiss to your cheek. “Now, tell me. How would you like me fuck you? Like this? Or on your stomach?”

Both are equally appealing, you think, but the thought of him plowing your ass into the mattress does reignite the sparks that the orgasms threatened to drain, so you tell him, with a hoarse voice, “stomach, please.”

You’re flipped by four hands in a flash, and your hips are being lifted, just enough for Volt’s hot, aching cock to find the right angle to your entrance, and he slips inside with ease, coating himself with your own climax as he fills you in one sweet thrust. You both gasp at the feeling, the shock of his skin against you. He steadies himself when his hands grasp your waist, and his lips kiss your shoulder blade when he moans.

You feel, a moment later, his arms quiver, and a curse hisses through his teeth, and you know that Eddie must be fulfilling his end of the deal. Volt rocks his hips into you, groans Eddie’s name, and fuck, maybe the stomach was the wrong call, because you wish you could see.

Somewhere, deep in your mind, a little voice tells you that you can, and you remember the mirror on the armoire across the room, and flip your head.

Thank the fucking stars, it’s the perfect angle.

Eddie has one hand on Volt’s waist, and the other encircles his neck, his face hungry, powerful, savoring every little sound the two of you make, and he thrusts inside of Volt, sending Volt deeper inside of you.

One day, these men would be the death of you.

You watch, transfixed, as Eddie finds his pace, languid strokes combined with harsh thrusts, each in turn making Volt’s cock throb inside you, trying as much as he can to set his own pace, but Eddie’s hold on him not allowing for such freedom.

As Eddie moves faster, Volt loses his grip on your waist, his hands falling to the mattress beside your skin, his muscles trembling with the effort to keep himself up, to keep rocking inside you. The room is filled with moans, curses, and the sounds of skin on skin, brutal, relentless, and you wish it could be this way always.

“F-fuck, Eddie, yes, more,” Volt’s usual collected voice is anything but, he’s burning, greedy, and barely hanging on to his composure, and a silent scream leaves your lips when Eddie complies, your body being thrust further and further into the mattress, and you feel drool spill from your lips on the sheets.

Shocks light up your back, and now Volt speaks to you, nearly pleading, “Give me one more, live wire, give you j-just one, fuck, more.”

And it is his birthday, after all.

It’s Eddie’s tell-tale groans that make the spring inside you start to tighten, but it’s Volt’s whimpers, his pleas, and you feel him pump erratically inside you, that bring you to the peak once again, your walls clamping like a vice around Volt as tears from your mix mix with the puddle of drool beneath your cheek. 

Like a tripped circuit, Volt is next - he nearly collapses above your back as he fills you, one of his hands finding your arm and holding on for dear life, and you wouldn’t be surprised to find a hand-shaped burn in the morning (maybe, in fact, you’d welcome it). His whole body shudders as Eddie groans his name, how good he is, what a sweet birthday boy, until finally, he stills too, coming with Volt’s name on his lips.

When, finally, you’re free from the pile of bodies you all created, one of them (you’re not quite cognizant to register which) pulls you to their bathroom, and again, in the shower, you’re between their bodies, each of you helping to rinse off each other between quiet, slow kisses.

Clean in the bed, a new blanket over you, Volt holds you nearly atop his chest, Eddie on his side as he leans over the both of you, and your heart sings at their touches.

But, there’s one thing on your mind.

“It’s not fair,” you say in a small voice, sleep desperately wanting to overtake you.

Volt stills his hand on your back. “What’s not, darling?”

“Eddie’s the only one of us without a birthday.”

They glance at each other, as if it were the first time they realized it - maybe it is, in their world, Volt is the exception - before steel and white eyes find yours, and Eddie says simply, “Then pick a day.”

You raise your head, flick your eyes between them. “Really?”

“Why not,” he says, and you see the hints of a smirk he’s trying to hide. “If tonight was any indication, they certainly have their benefits.”

You smile, knowing without a doubt that you are the luckiest person in this house. “Okay. Um. Do you have a favorite month?”

Eddie chuckles, love and amusement both swimming in his eyes. “Not at all.”

“Well you’re a big help.” You turn to Volt, that same mixture in his eyes. “Volt, pick a month.”

“November.”

“Why November?’ Eddie asks.

“It’s got a V in it, of course.” He winks, and grey eyes roll.

“Alright, November… third,” you decide. “Cuz there’s three of us.”

Both pairs of eyes soften, their faces beaming. 

“Then that’s my birthday,” Eddie hums, his voice laced with devotion, adoration, pride.

Volt cups his cheek and strokes his stubble with his thumb. “I can’t wait, then.” He smiles softly, looks at you both. “Because I thoroughly enjoyed mine, my darlings.”

Here's something important that absolutely needs to be known by all - getting eaten out by Hawks is always a fuckin' pleasure.

He gets home late Friday night after a long day, long week, long month. He's absolutely exhausted as he slumps through your apartment door and drops his jacket to the ground. He barely makes it over to the couch, falling face first into the plush navy cushions.

You coo and fuss over him, quickly pushing your laptop onto the coffee table and pulling his head into your lap. You card your fingers through his hair and within seconds his eyes droop closed. He's so, so tired, and laying on your lap feels like absolute heaven. He wishes he had more energy to spend hanging out with you or taking you out on his nights off - but right now all he can focus on is the gentle way your fingertips scratch against his scalp and down his sore neck.

You let him doze for a half hour - just enough to recharge but not too much to get him hooked into REM sleep. As he rests, you slowly extract yourself out from under him, laying his head on a soft pillow and covering him with a thick knit blanket. You take care to tuck him in, smoothing the crimson feathers of his wings down lightly as you go. He lets out the tiniest of groans in reply. His wings are sensitive, after all.

You move quietly to the kitchen to get some dinner going - a thick chicken noodle soup to drive the chill from his aching bones. When Keigo's head pokes up from the couch a half an hour later, you're already ladling a generous portion into his favorite bowl. His tired eyes crinkle at the corners as you stride towards him, two heavy soup bowls in hand.

"What did I do to deserve all this?" He asks with wonder as you lay down the bowls on the coffee table and pull out your TV dinner trays so the two of you won't spill on the upholstery. You hand him his bowl of soup and he smiles up at you adoringly. He's still wrapped up in the blanket - covered with it like a cloak over his head and shoulders. He looks like a character from the hobbit, sans bushy beard or fuzzy feet.

"I guess you just got lucky." You plant a kiss on his scratchy cheek before pulling your own bowl towards you. You grab the remote and flick on a comfort movie. There's no room for stressful plots tonight.

You both dig into your soup happily. Keigo asks for seconds, and then thirds. You even manage to scrounge up a sleeve of Ritz crackers that he absolutely demolishes. You love seeing him relaxed and happy - it's a rare sight. But here he is - beautiful and curled up on your couch with a full belly. It makes your heart sing.

He's already falling back asleep. That's no surprise - after a meal Keigo is always out like a light. You know it stems from his childhood trauma - he spent the beginning of his life hungry and afraid. Having a full stomach is such a comfort to him now, and makes him feel so safe and at ease. He always knocks out for a little right after dinner. You watch his eyelids get heavy and you note that he's still wearing his street clothes.

"Kei...let me go get something comfier for you to wear, hm?" You say sweetly, placing the dirty soup pot in the sink.

"Huh?" He blinks awake. "Oh, yeah, babe. That would be great." He smiles at you again and you feel so bubbly and warm. You drag your fingertips lightly across his wings as you pass the couch and he glimmers under your touch. You hurry back to your room and open up the drawer you've dedicated to Keigo's things. He's stashed a few outfits - jeans, t-shirts and the like - in the space alongside some sweats, extra boxers, deodorant and a tiny bottle of his favorite cologne.

You scoop out a plain black t-shirt and his favorite pair of well-loved grey sweatpants. A few months ago, the back pocket tore clean off. Keito had been pretty bummed about it - this was one of the first clothing items he had bought himself after getting to leave the confines of the Commission. He knew it was silly to hold on to a pair of sweatpants of all things...but he struggled to throw them out and let them go.

In a fit of creative inspiration, you were able to spend some time after work watching sewing tutorials on YouTube. After an hour of content, you had managed to clumsily sew the pants back together. You'd also added a tiny addition - a small heart shaped patch that would be featured prominently on his right ass cheek. When you had unveiling your handy work to your boyfriend, he had gone absolutely mad with excitement. He had kissed your face all over and giggled at the tiny patch addition. He loved that you'd managed to make his favorite pair of pants even more special, and of course he loved the excuse to model his tight hero ass around the apartment for you.

You bring out the fresh outfit and toss it to him on the couch. He immediately gets up, untangling himself from the blanket, and starts to strip.

"Keigo! Dude! The window shades aren't closed!" You shriek at his indecency. He tosses you a wicked grin over his shoulder as he pulls off his shirt, shimmying it up and over his wings. If there's one thing you'll never get tired of - it's seeing your boyfriend naked. His chest is toned and his abs are well defined. His waist tapers down into a tight "v" shape that makes your mouth water. He unzips his jeans and then bends over to pull his foot out of one leg, then the other. He straightens up and turns so you can take him in fully - he's standing in the center of the apartment in nothing but his fitted black boxers. The thin material stretches across his thick thighs in a absolutely delicious way that makes you blush. And, oh, his goddamn package...you can't even begin to find the words to describe how good his cock looks half hard and cradled in that expensive underwear of his.

"I could just stay like this, babe. I don't need to put anything else on." He wiggles his eyebrows up at you suggestively. "Actually...I could lose the boxers, too, if that's what you'd want..."

"Kei..." You say breathlessly, looking him up and down. "I thought you'd want to go back to sleep."

He takes a step towards you, his deep golden eyes filled with a look of want. Suddenly he looks wide awake. Heat pools between your legs as his mouth pulls into a sly grin. He lets his gaze rake across your body, hovering across your breasts, your lips. He knows exactly what he's doing, the damn bird.

"How could I go to sleep when my amazing girlfriend needs to be taken care of?" He walks over to you, folding you into his warm embrace. His biceps flex impressively around you and once again you're in awe of how hot and fit your goddamn pro hero boyfriend is. He nuzzles his face into your neck and sits there for a moment, breathing in your familiar scent before placing a wet kiss on your flushed skin.

"My girl is so good to me...feeding me, making sure I'm cozy and well cared for." He starts to place a trail of hot kisses up your neck and behind your ear. When he reaches your hairline, he groans. "I want to return the favor before we go to bed. Gotta show you I can take care of you, too. Let me eat you out, baby?"

"Mmm, Kei." You can't help but moan at the offer. You shift your weight from foot to foot as arousal blooms in your panties.

"Yeah, baby?" He lets a hand drift lightly down your stomach and over your clothed pussy. He swirls his fingertips in a light figure eight motion around your clit - over and over until you let out a breathy moan. "You gonna let me take care of my pretty birdy?"

"Please."

It's all he needs to hear. A second later he's thrown you down on the couch and he's stripping you down. Your shirt, bra and jeans are instantly on the floor. He leaves your panties, throwing your legs haphazardly over his shoulders as he gets himself into a good position. You're already so turned on that there's a growing damp spot on the gusset of your white laced panties. Keigo breathes in sharply at the sight, biting his lip as he surveys your beautiful body. It's as if he's not quite sure where he wants to start.

"Keigo...I need you, baby." You moan out, bringing your hands up to cup his beautiful sharp face. He leans into the touch, eyes sliding shut for a moment as he just enjoys the way your fingertips feel against his jawline.

"I know, hun. I'm gonna make you feel so goddamn good with my tongue." He promises, reaching down to awkwardly push his boxers off and towards his thighs. His pretty thick cock spring free, kissing his toned stomach and leaving a messy smear of pre-cum on his abs. He takes his dick in one hand, stroking it slowly as he leans forward to kiss the soft plane of your stomach.

You inhale a sharp breath at the contact. His lips are hot and soft as they move across your belly, across your navel, and down towards the waistband of your panties. He takes his time, lavishing every inch of exposed skin he can find with his lips, tongue and teeth. He rolls the edges of his bite across the swell of your hips, and the sensation causes goosebumps to swell across your skin. When he runs his hot tongue flat under the waistband of your panties, you know you're done for.

He releases his cock from his grasp so that he can use both hands. It springs back into position, twitching lightly against his abs. You can't help but envision the snug fit of his cock deep in your cunt. It's one of your favorite feelings - the way he fits inside of you so well. The gentle lovemaking Keigo excels at that allows you to feel every glorious inch of his cock as he flexes and thrusts into you with steady rhythm.

"Time to take these off, I think." He says, hooking his thumbs under the lacy waistband of your panties and pulling swiftly down. The cool apartment air hits your pussy and you suck in a tiny breath at the change in temperature. "Don't worry, babe. I'll warm you up in a minute." He says knowingly, chuckling under his breath at your vague discomfort. He spreads your legs out a bit, staring down at your perfect pussy with an expression of awe.

"I'll never get tired of this view." He says, tracing a fingertip lightly around your folds. You bite your lip as you watch him play with you, zigzagging his fingers across your pussy without touching you in the spots that ache the most. He bends his head forward so he can start kissing up your leg, up your thigh, and into the crease between your leg and your pussy. You're dripping wet, now. Shit, you're so wet you'll need to clean off the couch later with carpet cleaner or something stupid like that.

"Keigo...Keigo please." You beg, staring up into his bright golden eyes with want. You're desperate for him - always have been, always will be.

He smiles down at you and the look is so open and genuine it makes you want to squeal. Keigo is such a damn romantic sometimes - when he fucks you, 90% of the time he wants to "make love." Rough sex is reserved for rare occasions - anniversaries, birthdays and needing to work through tension after hard missions. Keigo prefers to go slow and soft - he wants to make sure you feel his love in every thrust, every lick.

And so, when he finally brings his mouth down to your pussy to get to work, you're not surprised by the way that he takes his sweet time. He starts out at a glacial pace to let you acclimate to the overwhelming feeling of the flat of his tongue against your clit. He knows you're sensitive and get overwhelmed easily, so he likes to ease you into it as best he can. You're already overstimulated and don't think you can last too long - not when he's working at you so meticulously.

Keigo's tongue slowly swirls around your clit, trying to find the perfect rhythm to bring you to the brink of pleasure. You moan pathetically as he tries out a few different shapes - tracing the tip of his tongue back and forth across your clit and folds. After a few minutes, you relax into it, your butt sinking into the couch as he presses your legs further up over his shoulders.

He pulls his face away from your core and you moan at the loss of contact. He looks down at you with an intense expression, eyes smoky and filled with desire. For a moment, a thin string of saliva connects his face to your pussy, and you can't help but think it's the hottest goddamn thing you've ever seen.

"I'm gonna spell my name. Remind you who you belong to." He says in a low, husky voice. You stomach flips at that. He's never done anything like this before, and you wonder where he's taking inspiration from. He dives back in, and after a moment you start to decipher the "K" he's tracing over and over with his tongue across your pussy.

"Fuck!" You cry out when he licks an "E" and than an "I" across your poor, throbbing pussy. The "G" is no big deal, but the way he traces the "O" over and over and over across your clit has you bucking your hips into his face.

"Oh, you liked that last part?" He teases, repositioning himself a bit for better access. He leans back down and continues to trace the same delightful pattern across your clit until your legs start to shake.

"Kei...I'm so close." You say, trying desperately to get your limbs under control as they shake with pleasure. He doesn't stop what he's doing - he just keeps methodically swirling his tongue around you as the pressure inside builds.

He brings a hand down to grasp at the meat of your ass. He takes a cheek in hand and squeezes lightly, making you cry out again before slowly sliding a fingertip between your cheeks. He starts to circle your hole with a soft, wet fingertip as he eats you out. He's played a bit with your ass before - all just gentle touches and caresses up to this point. But now...now he's pushing and sliding and putting pressure on the spot in just the right way.

You feel your orgasm swelling inside of you, Keigo's fingers and mouth working in tandem to draw as much pleasure out of you as humanly possible. Your legs shake more than you thought was humanly possible, and Keigo's cock can be seen clearly twitching in response.

When you cum, you cry out his name (every form of it you know!). Keigo, Hawks, baby, wings, my love. You repeat each of these names with enthusiasm, worshiping the man who's head is between your thighs and taking no prisoners. The orgasm hits you hard and fast, ringing up from your quivering clit and deep into your core. You feel the release all over - in the twitch of your legs, the curl of your toes, in the way your eyes roll back.

"Keigo, babe, I love you." The orgasm rolls through you, making every square inch of you feel alive - you're practically pulsing with heat. Keigo licks you through it, keeping his face planted firmly in one spot as you rhythmically shift your hips to ride his tongue. You can't imagine a feeling better than cumming on Keigo Takami's pretty boy face. You groan out as you come down from your high. Keigo doesn't stop until you tell him to.

When you finally ask him to stop, it's because your clit is getting overly sensitive and needs a break. He nods and pulls his face away from you, grinning like an idiot. His cheeks and chin are damp with your slick, but he looks absolutely thrilled.

"Was that good, babe? Did you enjoy it?" He asks eagerly, shifting forward so he can join you down on the couch and wrap you in his arms.

"Kei, that was..." You don't have the words to describe the magic Keigo's just worked on your pussy. It was Transcendent. Magnificent. Life altering. All good terms and phrases to describe the way that you just ascended on the Number Two Hero's tongue. He nuzzles his face into your neck once more and pulls you close.

"Anytime you need, babe. I'll eat you out whenever. No questions asked."

"That's a big promise, Kei." You say, lifting a hand to his golden locks so you can scratch his scalp the way that he likes. "I might take advantage."

"Oh please." He practically begs, squeezing you lightly between his strong biceps. "I'd eat you out all day if I could. In bed when you wake up, in my office between patrols, in the bathroom at the bar when we're out with friends...babe, I wanna worship that pussy every second I can."

"You're crazy." You laugh, smushing a kiss onto his still damp cheek.

"Crazy for you." He sighs out, happy to feel your skin against his. The two of you are laying completely naked on the couch but it feels like the most natural thing in the world. He's still hard against you but doesn't put up a fuss about it.

"Want me to take care of that?" You ask letting your fingers skim across his half-hard cock. He shivers at the contact, his dick instantly pricking up at the feeling.

"Yes, please."

You smirk and bring your palm up to your mouth for him to see. You lock eyes with him - his golden irises shimmering as he watches you lick the palm of your hand up and down. You then lower the hand between the two of you and wrap it around his dick. His sharp intake of breath at the contact is music to your ears - you're going to absolutely tare him apart like this, you just know it.

"Does my babe like getting jerked off?" You ask softly, pumping slowly at his cock with your slick hand. He whimpers in reply. "Use your words, Keigo."

"Y-yes, Y/N. I fucking love it." He manages to get out between trembling lips. He slowly flexes his hips so he can thrust into your hand, but you cease your ministrations.

"No, Keigo. I call the shots with this." You say firmly, and his hips slow to a stop. Only when he's stopped moving do you resume jerking him off. After a minute, your hand starts to feel dry. You release his cock (much to his protesting) and bring it up to your mouth again. This time, you spit cleanly into the center of your palm. His eyes widen as he watches you spit twice more into your hand before bringing it back down to pleasure him. The saliva is exactly the lubrication needed, and he sighs gratefully as your small hand glides up and down his length.

"You know what this feels like?" You ask him, looking down at his hard cock admiringly.

"What?" He asks, breathless. He's unable to take his eyes away from your lovely face as you push and pull him through his pleasure.

"Feels like...Pro Hero material." You say, picking up your pace and spending a bit of extra time focusing around his tip. He cries out in appreciation - Keigo loves dirty talk. And praise. And essentially whatever you're willing to offer him in a sexy context like this.

It only takes another few good pumps to push him over the edge. You feel his whole body shiver in anticipation of his orgasm - his balls tighten, his cock is pulses. A moment later, he's splattering hot ropes of cum across your bare stomach. He's groaning out your name and giggling into the side of your neck as he spills his seed all over your soft skin.

"Fuck. You're perfect. So perfect, babe." He moans out as he finishes. He bats your hand away as his cock softens and everything gets a little too sensitive.

You lay there for a minute, wrapped up in each other on the couch as Keigo catches his breath.

"I wish you could come into work and do that for me between meetings." He sighs out, content. "That's exactly the kind of reset I need on tough days like this."

"Well your office door has a lock on it, right?" You grin - you love teasing this silly bird. "I don't see any reason why we can't just take a 'work break' together at your desk. And if I accidentally end up on my knees sucking and fucking you behind closed doors? That can't be the worst thing to happen at a Pro Hero agency." You say innocently, batting your eyes at him.

"Fuck. Stop being so hot Y/N. Now I've got an offfice kink or something." He chuckles, planting a wet kiss on your shoulder.

"Well, I'll break the illusion and be not-hot for a moment. I need to pee like a motherfucker." You try to say with a straight face, smirking as you curse.

"The mouth on you!" Keigo says, pretending to sound scandalized. But he releases you from his embrace, allowing your to scrabble to your feet and make your way to the tiny bathroom at the other end of the apartment.

You hurry off to pee and to grab a wet washcloth for yourself. You hastily wipe down your stomach - careful to smooth off all of the cum. After the quick wipe-down, you grab a fresh towel for Keigo and bustle back out into the living room. You toss him the towel and he uses a soft red feather to catch it mid-air. He cleans himself off and finally puts on the comfy outfit you had brought him earlier. The grey sweatpants hang comfortably off of his slim frame, the tiny red heart patch accentuating his juicy booty (or so you think, anyway).

"I think..." You say, surveying him with your hands on your hips. You're still completely naked, and the blinds are still completely open. But, fuck it. At this point if anyone has been watching you both through the window, they've already had a full fucking show. "I think that it's time for bed."

"I couldn't agree more, birdy." Keigo gets to his feet and plants a kiss on your forehead. "I'm gonna hop in the shower real quick and wash myself off, though. It was a long day at the agency and I think I could use a good scrub before I get in between those clean sheets of yours."

"Oh, good point. I appreciate that." You say, happy that you won't need to wash stickiness out of your sheets in the morning. You pad after him back into the bathroom where he flicks your shower to the perfect temperature with practiced skill. The room fills with steam and everything feels blissful. Your body feels loose and warm from your orgasm, and a long stream of hot water from your massage shower head sounds like heaven.

"Care to join me?" He throws you one of those devilish, flirty looks and you melt under his golden gaze. He throws all his clothes to the ground and steps into the shower, reaching out a hand to help you in behind him. He's so goddamn beautiful it makes you want to sing - you'll never tire of seeing Keigo naked. His toned body and honey gold skin shimmer in the low light of the bathroom.

You grin up at him, unable to picture a more perfect Friday night spent with your Pro Hero boyfriend. Soup, sex, shower, sleep. Honestly, what more could a girl want?

You step up behind him and into the hot, steamy shower.

"Always."

End.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

This one was inspired by a poll I ran recently...

Y'all voted for "He's Eating You Out" so obviously I had to make that happen!

Hope you enjoyed this smutty little fun about our boy Hawks!

Want more fun, smutty fics? Feel free to check out my 🔥Master List🔥 - there's plenty of more where this came from!

Stay safe and be good to each other <3

XOXO,

So what if he got strange looks from every unfortunate normie soul he happened to pass? It was limited edition, and he waited eight hours in line for it!

After all, a man with such a prized possession could surely and undoubtedly never be a-

“-oi- oi!” Self-proclaimed best friend, and universally-proclaimed pain in Gojo’s ass grumbles into the phone. 

Snapping out of his reverie, Gojo’s registering that he’s already at that familiar flickering stoplight. Fingers curling even tighter in their tender hold around your form, he saunters down the barren crossing. 

He needed to get home - and he needed to get home fast! A man needs quality time with his wife, after all. 

“Don’t tell me you fainted from her ah- what was it- ‘sheer beauty and unparalleled sex appeal’ again?”

“That was one time and you know it.” He’s hissing into the speaker- honestly, Geto’s probably just cranky that he didn’t get his grubby hands on one of these before he did - Gojo’s seen the other man’s plushie collection of you no matter how much he tries to hide it. “This time, I only got weak in the knees.”

There’s a snickering drawl, “Oh yeah? What wondrous self-control, o’ maestro of virgins.”

And the title is so utterly ridiculous that Gojo finds himself stuttering into a shocked stop right in the middle of the gloomy asphalt. A laugh bubbling up in his throat before he remembers that that particularly sweet nickname was directed at him. 

“You’re a virgin too!”

Scoffing, “Yeah, but I don’t act like it. You, on the other hand, are famed for having your first kiss with the common room tv the moment you first saw that video game character. People were making bets on whether you were going to die a virgin, Satoru. Hell- I bet, too!”

Dammit, when you put it like that it makes Geto sound downright respectable. 

“Actually, she’s more than a video game character, Sugu—” Times like this, he’s letting his words simper out into a whine. Full and well knowing how much it’ll grate against Geto’s eardrums - hah, take that ramen ASMR! Smugly, Gojo pushes up his thickly-rimmed glasses, “She’s the revered princess of a distant land, first in line to rule over the throne with a gentle yet firm hand. Scouring the seas for the perfect consort that will-”

“Are you quoting her Wikipedia-”

“I wrote her Wikipedia.” Gojo huffs indignantly, as if anyone could ever assume anything less. “Because to me, she’s- she’s…”

And, truly, nothing he recited with MLA citations could ever describe you.

Because if there’s one thing that Geto was right about, it’s the fact that Gojo’s been completely and utterly head-over-heels for you ever since he first glimpsed an ad for Sweetheart Online - the hottest, filthiest romance game to hit the industry in the last few years. Maybe ever. 

With one love interest - as if he needed any other - you, and your hand in marriage that Gojo had fought rival after unworthy rival to win 143 times already.

He finds himself wracking his brain for any word in the existing lexicon to describe the perfection that is you. Though, it seems that he doesn’t have to think too hard at all. 

Because before he can even imagine letting the first few syllables formulate on his tongue, there’s a deafening-

HONK!

Gojo turns, only to see the glaringly white headlights of a truck hurtling towards him at full-speed. 

And the first thing he thinks is oh, it kind of looks like the spotlight that dazzles on you 1 minute and 24 seconds into the game’s Coronation Event. The second thing he thinks is…fuck.

.

.

.

“-highness—looks rabid!”

“—that’s rude, but…”

“-oh dear, put your sword down, Itadori.”

Gojo takes a few bleary seconds to pat himself mentally on the back for deducing that he’s died and made his way to heaven. Honestly, it doesn’t matter what Yaga says - he really is a genius sometimes.

What else could the delicate paintings of cupids and clouds on the staggeringly tall ceiling abovehead mean? He didn’t think that the heavens above had a fancy for Baroque - but who was he to judge? 

Certainly not when it seemed like he was sprawled out on a painfully decadent bed. Sifting among layers and layers of delicate silk that almost swallowed him whole - oh, it was fit enough for his figurine collection of you. 

A sharp crick shoots along Gojo’s neck when he turns his eyes towards what seemed like a towering window, wincing at the large glowing ball of light washing warmly over him. If he squinted his eyes it almost looked like…the sun?

Surely, he wasn’t a ghost then.

It hadn’t even been daybreak once that semi-truck had run him over, and even if he was to haunt anyone then it would be to bug Geto into plastering his collection of your posters all over his gravestone. 

And the final piece of celestial evidence being a soft, soothing tone ringing in his ears and already becoming his favorite new song. Coming from the mouth of an angel peering down at him who looked - lo and behold - like your very spitting image. 

“Oh…” It comes out in a hoarse, scratchy gasp. All the air knocking out of his poor lungs once you inch in mere centimeters closer to his glassy view. He can’t help but reach up a trembly hand, “You’re even more beautiful in 3D.”

SMACK!

Gojo flinches when his hand gets knocked away unceremoniously by someone else’s- there were other people here? “You dare attempt to touch the princess? After revealing yourself in her chambers? I should call the guards right now-”

Now, he didn’t know much about the afterlife, but he was sure that demons weren’t allowed in heaven.

“It’s quite alright, Nobara.” The angel speaks up, and oh, it’s not even his name being said but Gojo already feels his heart leap a little and suddenly wishes it was. “Judging by the state of his clothes it seems he’s not from these parts. Maybe he’s lost?”

Gentle hands are suddenly bestowed upon his to softly pull him up, and before he can open his mouth to undoubtedly blurt out something stupid, there’s a ringing PING!

Jumping just about a foot off the bed, he’s scrambling to stand as a strangely robotic voice speaks from somewhere overhead, “Milestone: Touch a Girl reached. System activation successful! Congratulations, user [Satorulovesprincess]. Welcome to Sweetheart Online.”

If the group in front of him heard anything, then they didn’t show a sign. 

Very much the opposite of a thoroughly panicked Gojo, flailing his head towards the source of the noise until his eyes meet a holographic screen hovering just a few inches over his head.

As if something pulled right out of one of Geto’s favorite trashy sci-fi films - fuck being in heaven, he was probably still on those Shibuya streets hallucinating and causing an incident.. 

Gojo treks down a hand to pinch his forearm, just a little harder than necessary when the voice booms once more-

“Quite ingenious, user [Satorulovesprincess]. However, we assure you that what you are seeing is real.” The screen displays those exact words in time. “You have initiated the execution of the system, and are now bound to Sweetheart Online.”

“System- Sweetheart Online-” Great, he’s going mad. Running his hands through tousled locks of cloudy white, “Don’t tell me…don’t tell me this is like one of those shitty isekai anime.”

Oh god it all made sense - the truck, the system, the truck. And Gojo’s watched much more than enough cliché isekai anime with the otaku club to realize. 

But…a truck? Seriously? That’s embarrassingly overused. 

It’s like a pit of ice forms at the bottom of his stomach. He bet that no one but him could see the glaring screen right now. A fact he was especially glad for once the following words roll out-

“Following your sudden and extremely inexperienced death, Mission: No-Longer-Virgin has already started.”

Whispering to himself, “So this is where virgins go after death. Some sort of purgatory perhaps in which the last wishes of the virgin are materialized- although that doesn’t explain the presence of- wait-”

“Good luck, user: [Satorulovesprincess]. May your virginity collapse, and your sex life prosper!”

If Gojo didn’t know any better, he’d have sworn that the disjointed voice sounded amused. 

But wait- no, it wanted Gojo to lose his virginity? His long-held, precious, maiden virginity? After twenty-something years, how crude that this ah- mission marrs his delicate body. Did the system think that he was some sort of harlot to-

“Are…are you okay, strange sir?”

Okay, maybe losing his virginity wasn’t all that bad.

Turning back around slowly, “I uh…”

And this wasn’t quite how Gojo imagined meeting you - glasses askew, hair rumpled, in the very same ratty hoodie and sweatpants he’d camped outside the anime store in - hell, he never thought he’d meet you in general. 

But then you smile, and Gojo falls onto his knees. Right then and there on the polished floor.

You were exactly as he’d seen on-screen. Brows quirking upwards just a slight cheeky degree the same way it did whenever his in-game avatar said something particularly smooth. Gorgeous. The silken skirts of your ball gown looking oh-so-soft to the touch but not as soft as you-

“Your highness, on top of being a madman, he drools at the sight of you!” A younger girl shrieks - Nobara Kugisaki, your trusty attendant, he remembers. Hastily wiping his lips, “Kindly consider having his skull impaled.”

There was nothing kindly about having his skull impaled, and Gojo’s already clutching his head when you chuckle. “Your name?”

Ah, he’s forgotten how to speak. Forgotten how to breathe. “G-Gojo Satoru- my princess- your highness.”

“Apologies, I’m not sure what foreign ambassador you are, but I do welcome you kindly to our kingdom.” You’re letting your eyes roam all over his still-kneeled body, and in them glittered something…dark. 

Sliding over your hand and oh! Gojo remembers this.

He’s drinking in that delicate floral scent of yours, dragging his plump mouth to meet the back of your hand in a lingering kiss. The very moment his lips touch you, Gojo feels lightheaded.

And only after pulling away does he realize exactly why-

“Ah! He’s bleeding!” The young man - your loyal knight, Itadori - yelps, and Gojo’s clapping over the warm wetness smearing over his lower face. A nosebleed? Really? Just from kissing your hand? God, Geto was right - he really is a loser. “Should I call the healers, your highness?”

“No we have him drawn and quartered for such an unseemly display-”

“Nobara, that’s quite alright.” You’re waving off, smooth marble floors resonating out sharp clacks! when you walk even closer. Close. Too close. Until you’re seated on the edge of the bed, “After all, it is my consort choosing ceremony. Isn’t that what you’re here for, Satoru?”

Gojo thinks he could faint at the way you say his name - and he almost does. 

Scrambling towards you, he’s fully kneeling at your feet now. You’re so beautiful - so real - that pearly beads of tears dot his fluttering lashes. “Y-yes, ma’am.”

He swears he hears you mumble cute under your breath. Now he could really faint–

“Oh? And I intend on fulfilling the wishes of my guest.” Speaking somewhere over his shoulder, “You two are dismissed. Lock the doors.”

Kugisaki is, unsurprisingly, the one to protest. “But- but, your highness he’s-” And, honestly, Gojo can recognize the raw expression of what the fuck in her voice. He doesn’t blame her one bit. Not when you tip his head up further to face yours and his nose twitches like he’s about to start nosebleeding all over again. “...pathetic.”

Ouch. Gojo was on the verge of spoiling the ending to her character’s backstory when you’re humming. “I like them pathetic, Nobara.” 

Did he mention you were an angel?

“So…” You’re luring him in, and just that heady lilt of your voice already makes his cottony grey sweatpants tight. Shit- wasn’t this the type of situation that he wrote secret fanfics about?

Barely hearing the creaky SLAM! of the double doors to your royal chamber. Clouded pants waft over your satisfied features, he’s peeking up at you over his large spectacles. Lolling closer and closer-

Mumbling, “Yes, my prin- oh!”

Gojo’s pouted strawberry-pink lips wobble cutely when the golden points of your heel dig into the fleshy mound of his thigh. Prominent Adam’s apple bobbing, “Y-your highness?”

“What’s this about a-” Watery eyes widening wordlessly when you’re sliding it all the way up, up, up along the shockingly curvaceous muscles to press right down on the straining inches of his fattened cock. Needy. Bulging. “-virginity loss mission-” Hard. “-Satoru?”

And Gojo doesn’t know what comes first - that sharp inhale at the realization, or him.

Fist flying up for him to sink his pretty pearly whites into when he’s biting back a whimper and cumming.

You could feel the way that Gojo’s sloppy mushroom tip was just bawling with every lazy grind up and down his sappy slit. 

Milking out the thick, goopy ribbons being sprinkled from his rounded mushroom tip. Volumes upon volumes. So much of it. That warm texture clinging against the flats of your shoe and puddling out mushy dark splotches into his sweatpants.

Shit. Shit shit shit - cumming just from that. All in front of the woman of his dreams. Part of him almost wants to apologize.

But the way your mouth curls into a sleazy grin makes Gojo’s heart race, every minute action only keeping his achy length even harder. 

He so can’t help himself from grabbing your calves to halt with a few twitchy fingers - only to be going against his own yearnings. Hips humping yours once like a fucking dog as his breath hitches, “You- you know?”

“Awww, of course I know, Toru. I can see the screen.” Fuck- he hopes you can’t feel the wet splat! of another buttery wad of cum being dolloped out generously from his depraved divot. Leaning in, “S’this the first time anyone else has ever made you cum?”

He knew you were teasing - he knew it. But that doesn’t stop Gojo from panting out a strained, “Yes.”

“Hmmm, well-” You’re tapping your chin in thought, despite already having made your decision. But it was just so fun to see this beautiful man shivering and pleading on his knees. “I don’t know where you transmigrated from but…I still am a benevolent ruler, after all.”

He gulps. Cupping one flushed side of his face, Gojo’s practically a steaming hot mess of putty in your hands. “And I can take care of that little virginity business for you.”

Croaking out, “P-please.”

“Hmmm, not good ‘nough.” You’re rovering down even further to press a slight smooch of pressure against his fatly filled-up balls. Thighs squeezing at just how big they were - breeder balls. “Is that how you speak to your princess?”

“No- no no no-” Gojo’s shaking his head so hard that it makes him a little dizzy, or maybe that was the way that you were fisting your determined digits into his faded hoodie. “Please…ma’am.”

“Much better.”

Before he can even blink, he’s being dragged upwards according to your every want and whim. Thrown onto the bouncy king-sized mattress with such strength- of course, he shouldn’t even be surprised. You are the future queen for a reason, after all. 

In fact, he’s never skipped a single cut scene that showed you training your battle skills-

“Now now, don’t tell me you’re tapping out already?” Your voice drifts its way into his melty mind, words so sugary sweet that he could almost taste them. “At least gimme a lil’ kiss now-”

And it’s more than anything he could’ve ever dreamed of.

Muffling back a muted yes, Gojo’s surging upwards to clash his lips into yours. And oh shit, just-now realizing that he’s lost his first ever kiss. 

Then his second. His third. His fourth.

It’s messy. It’s hot. 

Tugging you even closer with a forearm around your waist. Gojo’s sloppy tongue is licking its way past your ravenous entrance, fucked-out bubbles of spittle pop up at the edges of his pursed lips when you’re breaking away-

“N-nooo-” He’s letting off a shuddering whine, chasing after you with a sluttily half-parted maw. “Gimme- wanna ‘nother kiss, princess.”

So greedy. The fat curve of your thumb positions itself on Gojo’s prettily dimpled chin, prying open his dewy lips even further. “Open that mouth f’me, Toru?”

He’s doing exactly what you’re saying before he even realizes it. The glistening muscle of his tongue splayed-out perfectly on display for you - for you to spit out a heavy mass of saliva right onto his pinkish tastebuds. 

Gojo moans at the contact - and you can feel it before he does. The subtle jolt of his weepy cockhead, before your languidly gyrating kneecap is dampened with another wiry slather of cum. Warm and wet. 

“Cumming again?” You coo, eyes darting between the ever-growing pool of a frosted mess between his long legs, and his face. Gojo looked so pretty like this - glasses sliding down his button nose, eyes shuttering with each heaving pant - gasp. Face flushed and slicked with a slight shimmer of sweat, stray locks of white curtain and stick to his reddened forehead. He looked so pretty. “Just from that?”

He’s squirming his depraved hips to smudge a faint glaze of seed down your mounds of flesh, one palm dancing upwards to stop himself from having a nosebleed all over again. “C-can’t help it…The average time of ejaculation for a man is five to seven minutes based on psychological factors and age. And as a healthy young man just because I-”

You’re shutting him up with a kiss, and Gojo almost wonders why more people don’t do this time - that is, until he remembers they’re not you.

“Sounds pretty serious.” You’re nodding, a mask of teasing graveness taking over your face. Swiftly shuffling down the seemingly endless expanse of the bed. Doughy fingerpads delicately hooking onto the hem of his drenched pants, “Better get a taste before you run out, then.”

Gojo lets out such a breathy pant at the implication, “N-no it won’t, considering the volume of the seminal vesicle and- ah!”

Whatever drunken rambling of his is cut very, very short as soon as you tug down those useless sweatpants and let Gojo’s red, painfully angry cock smack! against his abdomen with a wet smear.

He was so…big.

Such girthy, solid inches upon inches that twitched needily right before your very eyes. A rummaging, left-leaning curve being nestled above two pretty pink balls. 

Your mouth waters once you’re curling your fingers dexterously around his plump circumference, making his cerise cockhead waterfall out in another lazy sheen of pre. It’s honestly a bit of a strain to even get your fingertips meeting each other properly with his incredible size, and that just makes you want him more.

Gojo’s knitting his ivory brows nervously, “S-s’it okay?”

It’s more than okay.

And you’re about to show him that.

Cerulean irises crossing together until they were all heart-eyed when a saturated coating of your saliva tops his bloated tip like a layer of icing. Before he feels himself fall in fucking love just at the gummy peck of your mouth onto the rotund ends of his length.

“W-woahhh—” He’s breathing out, eyes locked lecherously right with yours when the steaming hot cavern of your mouth sinks in more and more and more- “This- what- fuuuck-”

And then you’re huffing out a slight chuckle through your nose, hitting his drenched base and making him keen. Slender hips of his lurch the perfect angle off the luxurious bed to bump his mountainous head against the very back of your throat. 

Gasping - begging. 

“You’re seriously gonna…take me?” Prattling through clenched teeth as you grace him with a few more flooding masses of spit. It makes him feel so used. Feel so good. “Like you- you’re gonna put me in your mouth?”

“No.” You’re snickering at the utterly crestfallen look on his face, full mouth downturned, puffed-up tip tinting an even more blasphemous red as if to tempt you. Your fingers tangle with his to claw at the crown of your head, “You’re gonna put yourself in my mouth.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Shit-” Gojo whispers - more to himself than anything. “You can do this- can- can do this- just suck on m’cock-” Rubbing out a translucent lipstain all over your ajar maw before plugging his proud girth inside. “Please- wanna know what it feels…”

Gojo can’t remember what he was saying. What he was thinking. 

Because just a few vulgar sucks of your tenderized mouth around his inflated cock and he’s drunk. Fuck dying by a truck, he was about to die just by this. 

Head lolling all the way back against the poofy pillows, white-hot bliss flashing behind his eyes and- when had he even closed them?

“Wh-why does it feel so–” he’s clenching his jaw, dredging out every single ounce of will in his being to peer at the heavenly - hah- sight below. “-so- good- c-can it feel so good- hngh- please-”

Gojo’s drawing up the hem of his hoodie to cover that brightly blossoming blush. So adorable. He even tasted sweet, like the best of salted caramel that made you infinitely want more. 

Your salacious tongue is repeatedly wetting down his lightning bolted veins. Up and down up and down up and down to draw little hearts on those bumpy lines. 

His sobbing cockhead mushing back into the velveteen walls of your mouth, and Gojo could cum just from the voluptuous curve being outlined into your cheek. He’s finding it almost fucking impossible to grunt out over the raw squelches! emanating from where you were making out with his throbbing cock, “Must be illegal- that’s it! It f-feels so good this must be- ngh- outlawed.”

You’ve rendered him stupid. And he’s so hot and heavy in your mouth, it makes your core stir up to think that you’re the first.

Every choked-up plea only resonates off of the numerous corners of your bedroom even louder once your fingers latch onto the gluttonous curve of his fattened balls. Squeezing-

“S-so dirty- so dirty, princess…” And part of Gojo doesn’t know why he’s letting his traitorous hands wander onto the back of your scalp. Doesn’t know why he’s plunging just a few more inches past your prettily-pouted lips - you were his princess and he was…not treating you like royalty.

The Gojo in this game had always been so smooth. So suave. Taking his sweet, sweet time to hold your hand and talk to you about the politics of your kingdom.

Right now he was curving his thick thighs to flex around your shoulder and feeding you every saccharine inch you could possibly swallow up. “Can you- can you take more? Take this biiiig fuckin’ cock?”

You’re being choked in a locked hold by his powerful legs, and you’ve never been wetter. Practically puddling out a syrupy pond on the sheets underneath you.

Tugging out the thick nub of his thumb to smear those honeyed splatters of his precum at the corners of your mouth, you can only grin as you let your sentence translate into thrumming vibrations. “Mhmm— Settling into it s-so well, aren’t ya, Tooooru?”

“F-fuck!” Gojo’s blushing tip glides shyly down the tight back of your throat, rovering all along each n’ every millimeter of space inside you. It only made your head bob faster to imagine how he would feel down there- “Don’t talk- don’t talk. Please don’t talk s’gonna make me…”

But you.

Oh, Gojo Satoru has read your character profile over 2489 times by now.

He’s memorized every factoid and morsel of knowledge there is to know about you - so of course, he should’ve known. Should’ve realized that babbling away those words would only make your sultry motions increase.

“Cum f’me like a good boy.”

And he does. 

You can only watch in awe when a pearlescent globule of cum gumdrops from his weepy orifice, one. Two. Three. Until Gojo was just drenching the entirety of your mouth with thickly viscous coatings of seed, until you were just drooling with a wadded mess of spittle and seed.

Salty flavor dripping down your tongue and flooding out. So much of it. Too much, Gojo was spurting out the thickest ribbons of creamy white as if he’d never cum before - and doesn’t plan to stop any time soon. 

More, more, more like it was the sound of your voice making him shiver. Making him whine like a zillion volts of electricity was running down his greedy spine. 

The moment you pull away, hefty oodles of cum hit Gojo’s toned abs with a wet splat! And your dear subject is wrangling out his hands towards you like he never wanted to let go.

“No- no! Please- please come back-” Crinkling tears trek their way down his dewy face, sensory pads of his fingers reaching out for you desperately, only for you to part away. “N-need your pretty mouth on me.”

You’re raising a brow, thumbing over his still-crying divot, “But don’tcha want something…else, Satoru?”

“Something- else?” He’s rasping out haltingly, head thoroughly swimming with nothing but you. Your heart glows with pride at the way he can barely form coherent sentences, “What…oh.”

But Gojo gets the idea soon enough when you’re hastily shedding away your outer robes. He fumblingly tries to help, of course, but the simple idea of helping a woman undress is too much for him - and he’s banished to simply watching you, one hand held underneath his nose in case of another…incident. 

Gown and undergarments hitting the floor, your gorgeous legs come to hike up, up, up- driveling mouth falling slack the moment they’re ending up rested on either side of his intoxicated head.

“Oh.” He wheezes intelligently up at your glistening cunt.

“Nothing else ta say?” Your heady purrs only make him blush, nuzzling his feverishly burning cheek against the spattered sheen of slick at your inner thigh. He’s making such a mess on purpose. Making himself a mess. 

“Well-” Gojo bats his long lashes up at you dangerously, clear planes of his glasses digging into the handsome apples of his cheeks. But he didn’t mind. Couldn’t even feel anything but the sweltering heat of your arousal. “-jus’ that- I want you to spit in my mouth, princess.”

And the very moment that sugar-coated sap, Gojo moans.

Eyes flickering shut at the taste of himself - the taste of you. A candied little tinge that he oh-so-badly needs more of - and without even a second of hesitation, he’s stuffing himself right there between your pretty legs. 

It doesn’t matter the rhythm. It doesn’t matter the rhyme. 

And Gojo doesn’t even know any - the very moment your puffy lips are meeting his kiss-bitten ones in a French kiss, he already knows that your cute cunt has taken him hostage.

Jaw clenching as he tries to memorize all those fanfics he guiltily read night after night, Gojo’s bumping up his cloudily condensed glasses further up his nose when he leaves one kiss. Two. “Ohhhh, your pussy tastes s-sooo good.”

And they each get messier and messier after the other. 

Letting the heaping dollops of your juices flood onto his roughened tastebuds, he’s letting his long tongue peek apart your gluey pussylips. Sliding the very tip up and down and round n’ round your slicked entrance. 

“The- the oh!” Gojo flinches just as your body arches even deeper once he pokes his fat muscle past your tight ring. Leaving such a slew of wet slurps with every drag, he was dirty. “-according to what I’ve read, th-the clitoris is found at the top of the vulva. It should be located where the hah- labia-”

His words cut off with what you swear sounds like a strangled whimper when you harshly fist your digits into his silken-soft strands and push.

And you don’t notice it at the time, hell, even Gojo doesn’t notice with just how ruined he was right about now. 

But the sole moment you’re manhandling him to your will makes his flushed crownhead geyser out a torrential of cum. 

Fountaining out waves and waves of seed that paint his hefty base with a frosted ring. Such thickened volumes for the nth time tonight. Just from the roughened way that you were pushing him to make out with your pretty pussy.

He wanted to be used.

“Used, huh?” You’re letting out a murky pant of laughter- fuck, did he say that out loud? “Wanna be u-used, Satoru- wanna keep that big mouth of yours hngh- full?”

He’s nodding. Nodding and nodding and nodding with every sloppy gyration that you bestow all down his features. Huffing and puffing through every gasping breath he manages to shudder in, he’s shooting out a good mass of saliva. “Yes- ride me. Ride me. Fucking ride my face. A-always wanted you to ride me- hngh- please.” 

And how could you deny him when he’s all begging like that?

Gluey ropes of spit and slick lacquer Gojo’s chin like a smooth polish, and he’s sticking against you like he was just as clingy. Jaw grinding against your kinetically moving pussy, the pointed edge of his nose weaves from between your leaky slit and ends up pressing right onto your clit-

“O-oh!” Your head tumbles backwards with an ever-tightening grip onto his sweat-dampened locks. “Yeah- right there–”

“Here? Here?” He sounds like he couldn’t quite believe it. The ravenous edge of his thumb curling right up your soppy slit and pinning down your hooded clit. Hard. “The glans clitoris r-right here. And I found it- I found it.” Breathing out a long whistle that makes your heated skin bristle with goosebumps, “I always wondered what would h-happen if I…”

You barely even have the time to react before you’re staring at the glisten of Gojo’s sharp canines sneaking up to your sensitive nub and biting.

And he didn’t expect this.

He didn’t expect it to be better than the fanfiction-

Because your generous cunt just cascades in another jet of sappy juices, glazing Gojo’s features sexily all the way from his dimpled grin up to his glasses. 

They’re dripping wet, waterlogged with treacly film of slick that forces him to gawk up at you from below with such a loving gaze. Just the way he’s peering up at you is enough to make your breaths hitch.

“Gonna- gonna write about this, y’know? H-hope you know that this changed my hah- fuckin’ life, my princess…my girl.” Gojo drawls out lazily, movements as slow as if he was slipping through molasses when he sinks the rounded tips of his cushy fingers into your slick-flooded entrance. “Gonna h-have you for breakfast- for ah- lunch…aaaand for dinner.”

With a pitchy whine, you’re tightening your hold onto his thick locks and mushing his face so close. Close enough that you could already feel the mushy pout of his lips and that lazy chuckle.

Only then do you realize that he’s doing this on purpose. Mouthing off until you’re making both his chilling frames and his regal nose clash at the target of your clit with every repeated swivel, each glissading snog of his tongue making you throb. 

Everywhere. Anywhere. Everywhere and anywhere that he could reach.

“Such a dirty boy, huh?” You muse, swearing that that only makes him even sloppier. “S’that what you are? Ngh- bet you’ve never tasted a p-pussy before, huh?”

“N-nooo- haven’t. But are they all so…fucking delicious?” And he’s lapping up every sensual ounce, not letting even a tiny speckle go to waste. Because Gojo Satoru was kissing your pretty pussy like he could only dream of those long, lonely nights. 

You were a fucking dream - his dream.

The full force of his desperation hitting you when Gojo’s letting his drunken head loll ever-so-slightly backwards to take a good, long admiring look at your cunt. And you wonder if he could even see with his glasses all sodden and filthy like that. 

You wonder if he even realized when he’s leaving a lingering swat! of his plush fingertips right onto the bullseye of your pulsing button, and then another few at your fleshy channel. 

And it was so unfair how he was pummeling your poor gummy walls with swipe after swipe of his eager fingerpads working your glutinous walls open. Probing his neatly manicured fingers perfectly into your most tender spots. “Like that?”

“Sh-shiiit–” You’re mewling at the tautly coiling build-up at your cunt. Further and further. You felt like you were about to snap. “-is- is this my first time or yours, Toru–”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” And Gojo’s palming his engulfing hands over the jiggling mounds of your ass to drag you like some ragdoll even deeper onto his sloppy maw. You’re forced to slap your hand onto the royal headboard to get at least some semblance of balance. “Jus’ want you- need you.”

Gawping up at you - he looks just as fucked-out as you feel. Blushing oh-so-innocently with his lecherous mouth slithering to steal a loud mwah! planted onto your salivating pussy. And then a final, weighty wad of spit. “Need me to be yours.” 

With a final, trembling shove of Gojo’s pretty face pliantly against your hot core, you’re cumming. Riding out your peak with stuttering rotations all over his lolled-out, bumpy tastebuds.

“Fuh-fuck!” You didn’t even care if you were getting his glasses messy at this point - he’d already made enough of a mess out of you. Embarrassingly so. “S’s-so good. Hah- gotta put your mouth to work more o-often, Satoru.”

And you can’t stop the way that your jaw parts into a soft oh! every time he pinches your bulbous clit at the very tip of every single one of your peaks. Right on time. More on sheer animal instinct than anything because Gojo’s still reeling from the fact that he made you cum.

He made you cum.

He made you cum.

He made you cum.

Babbling away just as stupidly as he had mere moments before, your orgasm is…magical. None of these haughty princes or dukes could ever compare to this. “S-such a good ngh- boy f’me.”

That is, until you feel Gojo tenderly curl his fingers around one of your stray ones to form a fist. Nudging it against one of yours in a…fistbump? 

“You have…no…fucking idea.” He’s letting out a drenching ptwah! of spittle, all the masses and rivulets of your sickeningly sweet juices sliding all the way down his tongue and pooling at the back of his throat. Like he always wanted your taste there.

And you’re still feeling the twinging tremors down your spine, flurries of stars bursting behind your hooded lids when he lets his sinfully long tongue slather your fluttering cunt with another hot kiss. 

Nose crinkling at how you’re stagnating your vigorous cadence, he bats his lashes up at your shocked stare - and you already know what his sapphire gaze is begging for before he even asks.

“Toru-”

“More.” Gojo interrupts you - and he knows he’ll beat himself up for it later. Maybe he’ll even…make it up to you. But for now, the only thing replaying on his cottony mind was just how perfect you looked cumming all over his mouth - even the specially-paid NSFW scenes didn’t go into this much detail. 

He was in heaven. 

You feel the humid brush of his tongue between your saturated pussylips, pleading. Begging. “Wan’ more- wanna taste you more, princess- please-”

And Gojo looks so fucking heartbroken the very moment those lips part with such a wet slurp! A low whine curdling at the back of his throat, his glossy lips curve downwards into a jutted-out pout.

He’s chasing after your pussy with absolutely no shame, greedy fingertips digging into the curve of your ass while he nudges you closer and closer. Stealing tiny kittenish licks, stealing longing whiffs just to smell the scent of your pussy.

“No- no- want- please-” He’s rambling away, half-lidded eyes widening with alarm. Like you were taking away his favorite dessert right from under his nose, and Gojo was not having it. 

But you knew a thing or two about ruling. 

And it’s with such smug satisfaction that you get to push down a wolfish Gojo so hard he collides back onto the mattress and bounces. 

Giggling - giggling, “S’this mean I get to…fuck you now?”

Oh, it’s spoken like a mantra. A true confession that he never even imagined would come out from those lips of his. 

You’re nodding, “Mhm— m’thinking that good boys get to hah- fuck me.” 

He’s ogling you right now when you meander between his milky legs just as you did before. Except, this time, you’re stopping right at the defined v-line of his sculptured hips. Darting thumb rubbing back and forth over the pooling streaks of cum from just before. 

“Did you cum without me ngh- again, Toru?” You’re teasing, and he almost feels so pathetic the way his mouth latches onto the curve of your sheened digits and sucks. “That’s not what a good-”

“I am I am-” Gojo insists, brows furrowing. He’s so unsure what to do, so unsure what to even think other than looping his arms around your waist to tug, tug, tug you ever-closer. It’ll never be enough. “Promise I’ll be a- ngh-”

Shit.

Your fingers shackle a tight grip around his pale, prespired neck. He looks so gorgeous squirming underneath you like this - squirming for more, that is. 

“Then you better promise to fuck me really good, Satoru.” Your whispers come out in a honeyed tone that wafts against his reddening ears. Maybe because of that, maybe because of the way your nails claw marks, you feel his plumpened head twitch. “Really good.”

His head lolls all the way into your grasp, he was done. Murmuring, “I’ll be a really, really good boy- ma’am.”

That did it.

And before Gojo knows it, you’re letting his syrupy mushroom tip slip in a few thick inches with ease. Geysers of his pre trickling out from between the tight stretch of your gluey hole, sinking in more and more.

Gojo’s mouth opens with a slow leak of drool with just how warm you were hugging him from the inside. Your candied walls so fucking clingy that he finds himself choking out a huff, planting two steadying hands on either side of your waist and pushing-

“Oh fuck- oh fuck.” His eyes grow adorable wide, stare perched right down where he was disappearing in and out of you in mindless, rapid ruts just to bully himself inside. “Th-this feels nothing like my P-Pocketpussy3000-”

“Toru…” Your words come out in a growl, crescent nail leaving neat indentations on his column of skin. 

“J-just feels so much better, my girl.” Gojo insists, something swirling deeply in his eyes that makes your heartbeat irregular. “You’re so…so warm and- and wet. That stupid rubber could never compare to the adventitia and musclaris and- and I’m really fucking you.”

He is. 

He was, at least until only a few vulgarly deep strokes probing in about halfway down his swollen shaft makes Gojo bump his ridged slit against one of those spots. The globe of Gojo’s proud cockhead leaves a hefted thud! that thunders pure bliss into your fuzzy head and makes you clench.

And it makes him cum. Again.

Wet spurts of warm seed splashing into each n’ every inch inside of you and filling you all the way up to the brim. There’s so many of his copious ribbons sloshing around inside of you, and it doesn’t even make Gojo’s tempo slow down.

It doesn’t even make him falter. 

“Sh-shiiiit-” He’s hissing, lower lip worried and fussed between his teeth until you were sure he’d be drawing blood. “Cumming—!”

Dipping down a few fingers to part your soppy lips, Gojo’s thrusts get more relentless when he catches his eyes on the steady waterfall of cum and slick seeping into his hoodie. Fucking the webbed mess deeper - but it only wrings out more pearly wads streaming down. 

Gojo’s voice wrenches out from the very back of his throat in a stubborn mewl, just about five octaves higher than you’re used to. “I came…inside.”

The one n’ only warning you get before he hooks an arm around the small of your back and flips the two of you over. Easily. 

Back sinking into the velvety bed-covering, your spine arches in a geometrical semicircle off the mattress as Gojo takes the blasphemous opportunity to bottom out. His meaty tip finally meets the target of your spongy cervix, breeder balls clashing stickily into the split end of your folds with a hulking thwack!

And you’re almost wondering at just how it was possible that Gojo - nervous, bumbling Gojo Satoru who’d never even held hands with a woman before - had the willpower and strength to overpower a seasoned fighter like you.

But that’s when he tugs his utterly sullied hoodie off and you’re rendered thoughtless. Mouth watering at the toned ridges and curves that bulged all over his Herculean body.

Gojo wasn’t just toned - he was fucking jacked.

And all yours for the taking.

Just your greedy stare is enough to wash his cheekbones with a scorching blush, as if he wasn’t near-nine inches deep inside you already. You gasp when his tongue pokes out to catch a few dripping splat! splat! splats! of your slick still dripping from his glasses. “I-I read in a director’s cut that you like men with abs so I…” 

And before you can even respond, his hips do all the talking for you. Striking your own with a deafening pap! of skin-on-skin, broad pecs heaving with a sharp inhale as if he didn’t even realize what he was doing. Wasn’t in control. 

Two of his doughy palms veer underneath your now-jittery thighs and hoist them up effortlessly to dangle over his shoulders. 

Gojo’s letting off a low grunt when his curvaceous knees slide wider across the pricey bedsheets. All the while mumbling, “N’ just because m’a hah- virgin doesn’t mean I don’t know a thing or two. Like- I saw this thing ngh- o-online called a…” Bending you like a pliant lawnchair down, down, down- “-a mating press.”

Online? Mating press? You didn’t know what he was rambling on nonsensically about now, but maybe you could excuse that with the fact that he was stretching you out stupid. 

“What a pretty boy.” You’re managing out, fingers unsticking a few strands of pearly white plastering onto his forehead. “Now s-stop teasing and hngh- fuck me.”

Your words are jolting such a dark, primal part of his brain. Eyes hooded, teeth pulling back with a low whimper of ah! The bed sings out a protesting creak when Gojo’s hand comes slamming! down onto the poor frame. Spitting out, “I-I can’t stop…fuck- I can’t stop. Won’t-”

He’s pushing and pushing his ravenous hips in animalistic little humps, the cylindrical shape of his cock swabbing in sultry circles around your gooey insides. Already splitting you apart snugly to the brim, but still he’s drilling in for more.

“You hafta move, Satoru-” Even your most gentle tone is enough to make his strawberry divot sugarcoat you in a thickly viscous few spatters of pre.

And when he talks he sounds wild, “Do I- haaaah- do I really hafta move? Jus’ wanna lose my virginity like this. Wanna stay inside you forever and ever and ever.”

He was already pussydrunk.

And it’s so cute it makes your heart clench. All over six feet of him melting into you by now; head heatedly shoved against the crook of your neck, motions glissading a slip n’ slide of his sexily defined abs pinned to your front. Powerless. 

Gojo blinks up at you through thoroughly hazy eyes when you tilt his face back up to face yours, and the deep eye-contact makes him blush. 

“But I really, really wan’ you to hah- fuck me.” You pout, and you already know by the stutter in his labored breathing that you have him wrapped around your cute lil’ finger. Jostling your hips in a slight buck, “Look-she’s begging for ya already.”

Oh. 

“Is- is she really?” Gojo sighing out in surprise, eyes pondering down to where he was making your puffed-up pussy folds bulge. Slipping out a gasp before he’s clutching onto his nose to stop any more bleeding.

Your slobbering lips coated with a glimmer of his spit and cum, so very his that Gojo finds himself subconsciously nodding along to the sappy squelches bubbling from below. 

“Yes- yes you’re right–” Propelling a slow drag of his hips to sweep every hidden orifice of yours inside, “Oh! Ya got l-louder- so you agree-”

He’s hiking up your legs even further up his shoulders, interlocking them with one massively flexing bicep held behind his head. Eyes still locked below - only then do you realize that he’s not talking to you. 

And then again. And again. And again and again until Gojo was striking your poor cervix with repeated battering rams of his plump cock. Dense balls stinging against your ass with ringing thwacks. Spherical bruises of his circumference being indented over n’ over it’s like he doesn’t even realize. 

Didn’t even know he was doing anything other than wrenching out the most sinful noises from your goopy pussy. 

“Mhm- such a pretty ngh- pussy.” Spitting out the very word like it was embarrassing, two sizeable fingers latch around the plump peak of your clit. Transfixed. You wondered whether he even remembered his own name. “Such a pretty clit.”

“Fuck!” You’re halfway through sobbing when he sends shockwaves of pleasure all across your body. And even more so when one tilted drive of all his inches leaves a skidding skim down the area of your g-spot. “There- right there, Satoru-”

He’s gaping up at you as if suddenly snapped out of a hypnotic trance, only to fall into an all-new one. Disbelieving mouth parted slightly, he breathes, “I’m…fucking you. I’m actually- ohhh fuck m’fucking you- like really, truly. This isn’t a dream.” Like he just realized - and he just did. “M’giving you my cock- making you t-take alllll of it-”

Never in his life did he think anything could ever feel this good. He was never going back. He would never be the same. 

Your drooling pussy was molding around him so nicely, taking onto the very shape of his long shaft. Massaging every inflamed vein poking against your splashed walls, so warm with the leftover puddles of his own sticky cum.

 He’s worshipping you, tilting his head to place a heady trailway of wet kisses down each of your ankles. “M’yours so m’-” Then your calves, your tits, your collarbones, everywhere and anywhere-

“-m’gonna make feel h-hah good.” His nose scrunches with focus, a few fat ends of Gojo’s fingers come down from pinning your ankles to splay out on your tummy. All bloated with his thick outline that even through his fogged-up glasses, he swears he could see a bulge. “Need to find it- need to.”

Pound after pound being placed desperately onto everywhere he could reach inside of you. You can feel the baking hot swash of his sap coating you in a second skin. Each dab of his ballooned crownhead leaves behind a marking bead of buttery pre. 

And maybe it was the way you’re feeling the slow trickle of all his sappy torrentials inside you, but you’re gurgling out a little, “What- what are you-”

“The g-spot.” Gojo answers your messy blithers of syllables with a tender rub onto your clit. Though, he wasn’t too far behind himself, if the way his digits trembled told you anything. “It’s s-supposed to be somewhere in the hah- anterior vaginal wall, between your pretty hole and the urethra. Often said to be stimulated about a few inches ngh- up-” 

But this time, you’re the one cutting him off. With a rapid, deprived rut that bustles his left-leaning curve to head in a jackhammer precisely towards your bulging g-spot. 

And then you see white. 

Perhaps from the sheer shock of him leaving a good French kiss that tenderizes your sweetest hidden coves, perhaps from the way that the both of you are cumming. 

“Shit- shiiiit-” You’re perking your ass to smack against his in lewd little paps, half-formulated moans flooding your mouth with each delicious thrust being planted right onto that spot. Gojo’s fucking you through each of your edges, over and over until you feel yourself crashing back-to-back into not one, not two, but three orgasms. “Really did fuck me- hngh- ah-”

Before you even realize, you’re throwing your arms around Gojo’s rippling shoulder muscles to claw a few artistic lines of red. And he loves it- fuck, it makes him cum even harder. 

“S-spit in my mouth, ma’am.”

And when you do, he latches onto yours with a messy, messy open-mouthed makeout. Groaning around his second-favorite activity of sucking your cute tongue - his most favorite activity being fucking this depraved cunt of yours. 

Cumming and cumming until he physically can’t. Steady rivers of seed logging up whatever remnant space inside your snug cunt before he sputters out sheer nothingness. 

A shiver wracks through Gojo’s body with the way he was cumming dry. And once he spies down a few whipped globs of it spilling out to form a velvety ring around his base, he’s plugging your leaky entrance with a few free fingers.

Lapping up that trickling excess with a slow suck peering right into your eyes before he seals you with his jostling digits back up again.

“Love it- love it love it love it-” He’s letting loose with each spasm of parching cum overspilling your flooded insides, those ribbony meshes swirl all around his pumping cock and trickle down in a creamy stream. Coating his twitchy balls no matter how much he tries to make you milk up every ounce, so much of it. Hot. “Love it- love being your good boy- I love you.”

Gojo’s heart races when you only plant a cute peck onto his sheened glasses, and then another onto his mouth. Resting your sweaty head against his very own, “How would ya like to be my own royal consort, Toru?”

Ah, it was virtually a proposal. To stay by your side forever and ever and ever - the only thing he’s ever wanted, really.

And Gojo’s about to kiss your awaiting lips senseless as an answer- that is, he was about to before both your ears chime with an undeniable PING!

Before an agitating, gratingly familiar voice rings across your heady atmosphere, “Congratulations user: [Satorulovesprincess] on completing Mission: No-Longer-Virgin!” You’re wincing at the sterile glow of that screen once more. “Please await the new updates to the program Sweetheart Online.”

And you both barely even have time to register those words before there’s a thunderous creak! from the empty space of your royal bed.

Except…the bed wasn’t so empty anymore. 

Right with your heated proximity was a man - a beautiful man. All long legs, and inky hair that ran down to his slender waist, twinkling amethyst eyes rounded in the exact same shock that shone in Gojo’s right about now. 

“Suguru?”

“Satoru!” Before he’s tilting his head towards you, and perhaps most glaringly, the way that Gojo was still scouring deeply inside you. A delicate blush tints his - Suguru’s - high cheekbones, voice cracking embarrassingly at the end. “P-princess.”

And something about his tone made your cunt quiver - just in time for Geto to shuffle the tightening crotch of his pants. Something that Gojo noticed, if the way he was crushing you to his body even tighter said anything.

“Let me guess-” Gojo tilts his head, a sleazily drunken smirk curving the edges of his ruddied lips. “-the truck got you haaaah- don’ squeeze me like that, my girl– too?”

“It- it was ramen poisoning actually…” Geto’s deep baritone trails off, struggling to rip his eyes away from you as the screen flickers once more. 

“Sweetheart Online updates completed! Commencing Love Rival (Three’s Company) arc. User: [Sugulovesprincess] joined.”

A/N. MAN I love loserboy Gojo hehehe- hope you have a lovely week <3

You have a visitor… Not unwanted, just unexpected. 

It’s around noon when you return to your apartment. You only manage to kick off your shoes when you find your friend, Hawks, on your sofa. His massive wings are pinned against the cushions, his gloves, headset, and eyewear discarded on the coffee table.  

He must have entered through the balcony door, often left unlocked whenever he wanted to visit or take a break from patrol. It’s not an unusual thing to come home to, so you’re not put off by his appearance. He knows how to keep himself entertained while you’re out. Sometimes channel surfing, scrolling on his phone, or on occasion, napping on your sofa. 

Today, he seems to be in the mood to read.

You take a few steps from the door, only to stop in your tracks as your eyes zero in on the book held in his hands. 

Your good-natured greeting dies on your tongue, too shocked to process what you’re actually seeing. 

It was a mistake, an oversight on your part, but you can’t take it back now. But if you could, you would have never left that book out in the open. Because you never intended for Hawks to find the doujinshi based off of him lying around where he could find it. 

Hawks peers up, giving you a friendly onceover,  way too calm for your liking that you blurt out, “It was Mirko.” 

It was a gag gift from Mirko. In honor of April Fool’s Day that passed recently. Her sense of humor often involved teasing you for your crush on Hawks. So much, that opportunity knocked at the right time and she presented you with an explicit gift. 

“Manga?” You had raised a brow at the offering. “A joke manga?” you added, taking it without a proper glance.  

She grinned like a madwoman, urging you to give it more attention. “A niche kind of manga. Thought of you when I saw it.” 

Flipping to the front cover, blood rushed to your face, jumpstarting your pulse. 

Large, feathered wings, a bare chest, bedroom eyes that resembled your favorite Pro Hero with the very suggestive title—  

“ A Hawks in Rut ,” Hawks recites aloud, bringing you back to the present. He rises to his feet, leveling you with a mischievous gaze.  

You’re guilty, and he knows you are, because it’s the truth. Despite giving Mirko stick for the stunt, you didn’t turn down the gift. Nor did anything stop you from poring over each panel, deep into the night.  

Your mind was in overdrive, inserting yourself in the heroine’s shoes as the manga-version of Hawks ravaged every inch of her. You didn’t even know stuff like this existed. Fan-made, X-rated content of Pro Heroes for public consumption? Is this even legal? You demanded to know where Mirko got this, but her lips were sealed. 

You haven’t budged an inch, rooted to the spot by the door. Fight or flight, your mind crosses between two thoughts: snatch the manga back from Hawks or flee your own apartment.  

Hawks pays your inner conflict no mind. And if he does, then he’s being a little shit about it. Because he approaches with a casual swagger, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other still holding the manga.  

As he draws closer, your mind glitches, stuck on repeat. “It was Mirko.”

Hawks croons. “Aww, that’s cute. Giving you a manga using my likeness.”

“It was a joke,” comes your quick response. 

“What part?” Hawks tilts his head. “The gift? The story? The drawings of me naked?”

Your eyes widen, mouth floundering. “No, no, no, Hawks—no! I wasn’t—” You weren’t poking fun at him if that’s what he means. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

His voice dials down to a husk. “Oh? So, tell me, birdy…”

Any attempt you make at a rational response is futile. Because hearing that pet name, the same one used in the manga—out of Hawks’s own mouth — turns your mind into cotton. It’s a sin how much you liked it, and it was criminal to want to hear it used again and again…

However, you gather your wits before you lose them entirely, keen to know, “How much of that did you read?” 

From the amused sparkle in his eyes, it’s obvious Hawks has read more than enough. He puffs out a laugh. “Not much to ‘read’, really. Unless you mean the dialogue of...pleasure.” Another step closer and he’s haunting your space. “How much did you read?”

All of it in one sitting. Several times you tried to set the book down but couldn’t. Rather you were hooked, flipping through it, a budding warmth dampening the center of your thighs. By the end of it, you were dizzy and breathless, passing out with those lewd illustrations stamped behind your eyes. They invaded your dreams too. Hawks, nude, looming over you in bed…

“Birdy…” he singsongs, voice dripping with honey. “Lost you there for a second. Must have been a page-turner. The kind you read late at night, under the covers, maybe?”

Your pulse beats fast as he plucks your hand. “And this between your legs?” he whispers into your knuckles, warm breath turning into a soft kiss.

Without thinking, your hand reels back, incriminating yourself.

Hawks’s brows reach his hairline. “Oh…someone looks guilty. But what for?” He veers closer, until your back settles on the door. 

He takes advantage of that, planting his hand against the wood, a hairsbreadth away from your head. 

It’s only now you realize he’s not wearing his jacket. From the corners of your vision, all you see is strong, lean muscle that drags your gaze from his arm to his chest. 

You want to have some sense of decorum, but how can you?

Of course, you always knew his hero uniform was on the snug side. Intended for streamlining in the air while remaining lightweight. But you never realized just how skin-tight it was. Like the fabric was painted on. It moves with his chest, sculpting its strength, outlining every inch of him in the best way.  

Venturing a glimpse up, you’re met with a golden gaze, both predatory and beautiful, sending a shiver down your spine. 

For a long moment, he holds your stare, the intensity of it making you weak-kneed. 

“You know,” Hawks starts, flitting his attention back to the book. “Whoever drew these, they’re very creative. They did overexaggerate my eyes, however,” he laughs, turning a page. “Didn’t nail down my wingspan either. Can’t blame them. Too many feathers to draw. Not really the star of the show, right?”

Another turn of the page, the wrinkle of paper sounds like thunder.

“As for my dick…” 

He’s shameless, having way too much fun toying with you. Testing your limits, like a predator with its prey.  

He nods, contemplative, a look of appraisal. “…I’m flattered, they got something right.”

The mischief in his eyes has you averting your stare, anywhere else, only to brake at something beneath his belt.  

It’s a silhouette at first, but as you gawk further, the impossible-to-ignore bulge strains within the confines of Hawks’s pants. 

His eyes drop to his crotch, and he hums, “Speak of the devil.”

Nerves tie a knot in your throat. In classic Hawks fashion, he’s playful about it, blurring the line between seductive and casual. His serenity only leaves you more flustered as your imagination runs rampant, envisioning the details of Hawks’s cock. 

But he’s not done yet. Hawks carries on, flipping through the book once more. “This looks like a fun position. Got to be really flexible to pull this off.”

This time, he turns the manga to your sights, and you almost swoon. 

An entire, singular panel spans both pages. Hawks and the heroine on her bed, him hovering her very, very vulnerable form. Legs folded so tightly with her knees nearly touching her shoulders. And the only dialogue in the panel coming from Hawks: I’m gonna breed you like this. 

You remember drooling over that panel for so long you needed reprieve before bed. The page was even dogeared because you were such a fucking perv.

He looms over, leaving a scant gap between your bodies. Move one inch and you’ll nudge his front. You’re stiff, doing the worst at ignoring his erection. 

“And about my rut,” comes his voice again, sensuous as silk. 

You swallow hard, skin prickling with heat that gathers between your thighs.

Up close, Hawks’s smirk only makes things worse or better…you’ve yet to decide. Regardless, the flash of his Colgate-smile, conspiratorial, pours sparks down your frame. 

He tuts, the sound reaching your ears like a purr. “That silly rumor.”

You blink, pulled out of the fantasy for a moment. You were privy to the alleged spring rut that Hawks experienced. Or so you thought. You had boldly asked Mirko about it once, and she seemed to have more intel.

“That’s why he’s always on ‘special assignment’ for a few weeks,” she had alluded. 

Social media and the tabloids were no different, publishing stories about how Hawks was once again missing in action from public hero events around April. The speculations circulated on the streets too that Hawks entering a rut every spring was practically decreed fact.  

Except it might not be fact after all. Just fodder?

You look up at him, deeply curious, and mildly disappointed… “A rumor?” 

You half-expect Hawks to burst into laughter. Perhaps even to bemoan the public’s misconception of him. But what you see instead is the look of a hunter striking his gaze. 

You stammer, “So, it’s not true—?” 

It happens in a flurry. You’re swept off your feet one second, and airborne, over Hawks’s shoulder the next. And the rest of your apartment glides past your sights. 

Hawks drops you onto your bed, fingering the hem of your shirt.   

Red feathers flutter around to assist. Hawks is hasty, dragging your shirt, while something sharp and swift cuts the back of your bra. The world is nothing but cotton and rustling fabric until your shirt is disposed.

You flop back onto the mattress, tits to the wind. Next, your jeans and underwear are dragged off without fanfare, And Hawks…despite his hurry, takes a pause, blowing out a wolf-whistle.

Sharp eyes rake your chest. “Look at that…there’s a fox hiding under those clothes.” 

Your mind goes static with anticipation, entranced with the way Hawks shamelessly appraises your body. 

There’s a dark and raptorial shift as Hawks’s gaze snaps to yours. He drops forward, wings flared out, casting a crimson eclipse from above. 

“Hawks?”

His hand skims up your stomach, leaving a path of goosebumps in its wake before palming your breast. You mewl as he squeezes your flesh.

“You’re so soft,” he rasps, crawling over you, a predator ready to strike. “I can’t wait to leave my marks…” He seals that oath with a searing kiss. 

It catches you by surprise, you try to keep up with his pace, but it’s all-consuming. Sloppy and hungry, a faint whimper falls out from your lips, but Hawks hears it. 

He pulls back, a tendril of saliva breaking apart. “You want that too.” He grins, a growl scraping against his throat. “I can tell. Just fucking look at you. Naked, sprawled on your back, and…”

He trails off, eyes doing the same until they reach your center. 

You’re so wet for him, the arousal leaking from your pussy long before he brought you to the bed. 

Hawks bares his teeth like an animal. “Shit, you got yourself so messy.” He drags his nails up your plush thighs. 

Your skin shivers under the possessive sting. “Hawks—I thought it was a rumor?”

“It is. But everything’s a rumor until proven true." A carnal edge curls around his words, leaving you clueless.  “So—” you breathe. “Are you—are you really in rut—” 

The details of the manga’s story are hazy now, you can only recall a few details. 

Hawks requesting the heroine’s assistance in his lust-filled affliction. From there it went from zero to one hundred fast. 

As you stare at Hawks now in the flesh, it’s like the pages from fiction have come to life. 

“Hawks—” you gasp. 

“ Keigo ,” he cuts you short, voice tight. “If you want me to stop, call me Hawks.” That playful side to him from earlier is nowhere to be seen. It’s been swallowed up by something else. “Call me by my real name…and I’ll keep going. Say my name, and I won’t stop .”

The choice is yours, hanging in the stagnant air. Your breathing is labored, dizzy, an ache gnaws at your stomach. From the way Hawks watches you, his chest stiffening as he sucks in a sharp breath, his willpower is withering. 

You’ve always been careful using his real name. Security reasons, and because ‘Hawks’ was sewn tight within his identity. If you utter his actual name, you won’t be able to undo whatever he has planned. 

It’s a thought you should consider. Rethink how this will affect your friendship with him going forward. How it will affect your own feelings. Despite the circumstances, he’s giving you the option, handing over the reins before he takes them back. 

However, those principles elude you, overshadowed by your own selfish desire. 

Your fate leaves your lips in a forbidden whisper, you’re not sure he hears it. “Keigo.” 

But Keigo does, smug as he presses his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss. “That’s my birdy.”

You whine at the affection. Impatient, you weave your hands into his hair to draw him close. He indulges you for a moment, sliding his tongue inside of your mouth. He tastes of sweet coffee, the stroke of his tongue akin to a shot of espresso.

He releases a guttural moan. “Fuck…you’re a great kisser.” He deepens the kiss, stealing the air from your lungs.  

Caught between half-breaths, your head spins. 

“Stay still for me.” Keigo nips at your jaw before falling back on his haunches.

You comply, watching him peel at the neckline of his shirt with precision. Even so, he’s quick with it, wings folding together so that he can slip it off. It’s like an art form, the way his torso stretches, the deftness in his fingers working with the fabric, and the bend of his wings. By the time he’s shirtless, there’s more to see. 

Toned muscle, a six-pack carved into the planes of his stomach, a happy trail sinking past his belt. All that hero training evident in his body, you imagine the same applies to his stamina. At least you’re soon to find out. 

Keigo’s shirt lands somewhere in the room, humored to find you admiring his physique. “You’re the judge. Tell me, better than those drawings?”

The cockiness is distinct in his tone, a signature trait of his that you’ve always adored in secret. If the circumstances were different, you wouldn’t feed that ego of his. But pinned beneath him, a hot frustration simmers in your belly—you don’t care. 

Mouth agape, you nod. Not an ounce of shame left in you.   

Keigo lowers to kiss you again. From the sting of his teeth, you feel blood rushing to your lower lip. He scratches kisses on your neck then, sucking harshly at the skin, leaving marks by your pulse. 

True to his earlier promise, Keigo takes a bite out of every part of you. Your throat, your collarbone, like he’s desperate to devour you before he misses his chance. 

When he reaches your breast, you arch into him. “Keigo—”

You catch the low rumble in his throat, slotting your nipple with his mouth. He sucks harshly, the lewd noises spilling into the air, joining another gasp of his name from your lips. 

He pulls back a little to grab your breasts in both hands, pressing them together to give them as much equal, hungry attention. 

After a moment, Keigo’s attention skates downwards, thumbs pressing into your hip bones, wet kisses smattering all over your stomach. 

Despite the sloppy pace, there’s a reverence in the way Keigo spoils your body. Almost ritualistic and innate. His touch searches and finds the right spots with ease, even parts of your body you didn’t realize were sensitive. Like your rib cage. He sinks his teeth there to leave a loving mark. 

His pace dials down the lower he sinks, then stops when his eyes are reunited with your wet heat.

You can’t describe his expression beyond calling it a trance. Flushed cheeks, lidded eyes, a gaping maw scorching your pussy with his breaths. More surprising, is the loss of his silver-tongue. He licks his lips, but says nothing, like words would fail him if he tried. A certified yapper silenced. 

Then his wings open up, feathers ruffling in light tremors. A few shake free and one lands between your breasts. You take it, running your thumb along the quill.

Keigo shivers. You lift a brow, stroking the feather again, watching him bristle. You don’t recall this happening in the manga. 

“Keigo?” you utter and it’s like his senses snap together. 

He blinks, eyes crawling up to meet yours. A predacious grin forms around his gaping mouth. “Still here, birdy. Just admiring this beautiful pussy of yours—”

Whatever restraint he had left fades in seconds. He tugs you closer and spreads your thighs wide. Dangling his tongue, he gives you another heated look. You watch a dribble of saliva meet your clit, the final warning before Keigo plunges his tongue deep inside of you. 

Pleasure sparks under your skin, glimpses of stars enter your sights. 

It’s all tongue, swiping and thrusting, while Keigo’s talons pierce into your thighs to keep you still. You tremble, already so close to reaching your peak, something Keigo seems privy to. 

He switches to give your clit the most attention, demanding, “You better cum on my fucking face, birdy…”

That authority sends you spiraling, pure ecstasy bursts in your vision, cumming on his tongue. “Keigo!”

“That’s it, that’s it—” he chokes on a grunt, wings tense in the air. “That’s my birdy—fuck—make a mess!”

He slurps every drop, groaning like the pleasure is equally his.

Thigh twitching and muscles numb from being pinned down, you’re mindless as Keigo laps you up with an endless greed. 

You’re not sure how much time has passed. Minutes? Or maybe only a few seconds, because Keigo gives your pussy a gentle kiss before he rises to look at you. 

He smirks. “Still with me?”

You puff out a weak laugh. “Still here…” 

Keigo crawls over, takes your jaw, rewarding you with a fiery kiss to the lips. His front nestles between your thighs. At the press of his erection, a whimper breaks loose from your throat. 

“Not enough for you, huh? Want me to fuck you? Need me to stuff you with my cock?”

“Mhm…” is the only thing you manage.  

Thankfully, Keigo doesn’t torture you any longer. He chuckles, sliding off the bed without looking away. “Make sure those eyes don’t roll out, baby,” he says in preamble, unbuckling his belt. 

You prop yourself on your elbows, eager to watch him strip the last of his clothes. You don’t care how much of a voyeur you’re being. That ship has sailed. 

Keigo slides his pants and boxers off in a hurry. 

His cock springs out and a wave of renewed arousal washes over your body. 

It’s…far better than the illustrations. Far better than your own fantasies. It’s impressive, it’s endowed .

It’s beautiful… Hard and thick, a vein wrapped around the shaft. The tip is flushed a deep red, topped with a pearl of pre-cum.  

Keigo returns to the bed, casting his form of yours. His eyes ride up your stomach, over the valley of your breasts, then finally screech to a halt at your gaze. 

You wonder what you must look like to him because a reflection of your own carnal desire stares back at you tenfold. Keigo’s sharp eyes, pupils blown in a dark vortex, pulling you in deeper. Beautiful, slick lips, agape as he takes a staggered breath.  

He’s always been a master of control. But seeing him in this state triggers a new level of desire within you. For that resolve of his to chip away—to witness a raw, animalistic layer unravel. 

The tip of his dick slides across your center. Rock hard and so fucking heavy, your hips buck up for more friction, turning you into a mewling mess. 

Keigo, however, is no better than you, lust weighing his voice down like iron. “You ready for me?” 

Another pitiful whine pours from your mouth. Words are difficult. Your mind has gone static, too frustrated to think. 

A sharp hiss echoes from above. Keigo bites down on a grin. “Fuck…you’re a vision like this.” Strong hands press down on your thighs, a delicious ache, eclipsed with the feel of Keigo’s dick stroking the seam of your pussy. “Can’t hold back anymore.”

Desperation is caught between Keigo’s lidded eyes. A feral kind of hunger that matches a beast's after staving off for too long. 

“Keigo…” you whine, your hand skims downwards to your pussy. Fingers splay out your folds in a plea. 

“Oh…” Keigo groans, a shudder running from every feather down to his spine. “My name belongs in your mouth. Say it again.”

“Keigo.”

“Fuck…just like that.” He meshes his lips to yours with bruising force, consuming your moans. When he pushes off, he takes your legs, folding them at the knees to crush them between your bodies. “Gotta give you the real, authentic ‘Hawks’ experience,” he growls with a hint of humor. 

His dick nudges your opening. Your pussy flutters, hoping to catch him. But Keigo does the rest, too impatient to wait, he pushes himself in. “Count the inches, baby.”

One...two...the stretch is intoxicating. 

Three...four...his length pulses in your heat. 

Five…six…seven…you lose count of the rest as Keigo buries it all to a hilt. 

Together, you moan in bliss.

Keigo waits a moment for you to adjust and for him to bask in the way your walls suck him in. When that moment passes, he says, “Moving now.”

Your arms enfold around his neck as he pulls out fully and thrusts back in. 

He fucks you with unbridled fervor. Keigo mutters a string of curses, reaching your ears like a melody. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking perfect.”

On impulse, your hand slides down to the base between his wings. You press into it, fingers knotting in his feathers. 

“Ah—baby, my wings, yes, play with my wings—touch them—”

Between his thrusts inside of you and his pleas, your hands are clumsy brushing through the plumage. You lack any sort of technique, but Keigo responds in favor, moaning in your ear while his wings bristle at your touch.

The animalistic display sends a spark down to your center and you clench around his length.

Keigo chuckles, though it’s strained. “Shit, the way you just got even tighter now…fuck...you feel so fucking good—”

While his pace starts to lose rhythm, the stamina has yet to fail him, nor does he ever miss hitting your sensitive spots. Each sharp thrust brings you closer to your climax. 

Keigo can read your body, gauging how close you are. “Let me feel you cum on my cock—please cum on my cock, birdy, fuck—”

It’s nothing but babbling from him now. He looks at you, a hint of vulnerability hidden in that feral vortex. And with a few more harsh strokes your senses bubble over and fizz into euphoria.  

“That’s my birdy,” he rasps into your mouth, praising you with a loving kiss before he bucks his hips a few more times, triggering his own release. 

He spills inside of you, warm and sticky, you savor the feeling as you both catch your breath. You also take the moment to cherish his appearance. 

Dewy skin, pink cheeks, slick all over his lips and chin. Some strands of his classic windswept hair cling to his forehead. You brush them away, meeting his gaze.

He leans into your touch, slipping his arms beneath your back to draw you in and rain kisses all over your face. 

Your laughter echoes in the room, your senses fluttering back like a loose feather. 

Keigo gulps, taking another deep breath. “Well…that's my kind of page turner.”

You snort, bristling at the new onslaught of kisses on your neck. “Nothing compares to the real thing.”

Keigo coos into your pulse. “A book can only show you so much. It can stir that imagination of yours, but…” He kisses you on the lips. “It can’t fuck you. That’s what I'm meant for.”

After this, you doubt you’ll be able to look at the doujinshi the same way. That version of Hawks may have been a fun fantasy, but Keigo is much more special. 

Without warning, you’re flipped over. You only register your face pressed into the sheets before Keigo hikes your hips up so that your ass is on full display. He rubs the tip of his dick against your slit. It’s already hard again, leaking against your folds. 

He brushes the hair from your nape, folding over to whisper in your ear. “That was round one, birdy. Still got to mark up this pretty, delicate back of yours.”

You shudder with excitement, hoping you’ll be able to keep up with Keigo’s stamina. However long that lasts.

So, it’s true? He has a rut? He's in rut?

Keigo takes your hips in his hands, and you brace yourself, grasping onto the sheets. Whether it is or it isn’t, you don’t care to know.  

..............................................

Mirko sends off the civilians she just rescued with a wave. The authorities will handle the rest as she returns to her patrol, maybe even grab a quick dinner beforehand.

She fishes for her phone in her suit’s pocket and considers maybe meeting up with other heroes if they’d like to join.  

Tapping at the screen, she’s met with two notifications.  

[You – 6:40pm]: Did I ever thank you for that manga? 😉🙏

[Hawks – 7:06pm]: I owe you one!!! 

Mirko cackles. No questions, no explanations, no text replies needed. At least now, she knows to rule you and Hawks out for dinner plans tonight. “Pervs."

you don't realise but you're being watched. golden brown eyes piercing down at you, watching you with hawk-eyed vision on high alert to his surroundings. you met him the following morning, as you were leaving your tent something suddenly blocked out the sunlight before landing next to you. a bird creature was in front of you or maybe he was a hybrid, you weren't sure but he was rather intimidating. this man has bright red feather wings with a huge wing span and sandy blonde and white small fluffy parts on his arms and chest covered with a brown flimsy tunic with a handsome human face with golden eyes and blonde windswept hair. you're already quite fearful but after you spot his talons that look like they could slice you in half you really start panicking.

you were able to calm down when he smiled and held out his hand, you flinched first but in his palms where berries. you know those berries, they were edible, very rare and very tasty. later you found out his name was keigo but everyone call him hawks, when he told you this he also told you that he wanted you to call him keigo. he has limited human speech and it was hard to communicate with each other but you both tried your best.

you don't know this but when you accepted the berries he gave you in his mind that made you his mate, it solidified it in his mind and he was very happy that you accepted his advances. he's your provider and he has to look after you. you don't know that he thinks like that though.

you should of left the forest weeks ago, there was no reason for you to stay... well apart from keigo. you knew he would stay in the forest it's his home, you couldn't ask him to go with you and why would he? 'i probably care about him a lot more than he does me, which is fine! he likely has plenty of friends and his own kind in the forest, i just miss company after what happened with my old party... i like his company.' you can't bring yourself to leave, not yet, even if that means you're getting close to the rainy season, and it's always dangerous to be out in the wild in the rainy season. it's so easy to wind up dead, your body never found either downstream or at the bottom of cliffs that people can't access.

"shit!" you were foresting for some berries when you felt a drop of rain fall on your head, that drop turned into ten, then twenty, then fifty, all in a matter of seconds. you nearly fell as you tried to turn back to the somewhat safer option of your tent but the ground below you quickly became mud and slippy causing you to trip, luckily you were able to catch yourself on a nearby tree before falling face first and getting back as fast but safely as you can.

you're soaked to the bone and as the tent finally meets your eyeline it's getting you to walk quicker. you hear something above and you look up the best you can, covering your eyes with your hand but still somehow some water gets in your eyes, looking above you see hawks flying to you. "keigo, what are you doing?! go home, get in the tent, get anywhere. i know it might be different for you, i know you're less fragile than me but it's still raining heavily. what if there's lightning!" you shout at him to the sky.

keigo lands down, water slashing you in the process and getting mud on your trousers. he's careful as he pulls you towards him, making sure his talons won't hurt you and you're pressed against his body, "come." you're confused and you try to move so you can reach your tent but as you look behind you your back straightens as you see your tent. you don't even know if you could call it a tent anymore. the wind has blown it so much that it's just broken cut up fabric tied down by one singular peg, the others already blown away. "come," he repeats himself and pulls you closer towards his warm body before flying away, you can't help but scream as you lift up off the ground and you swear over the rain you can hear keigo laugh. you always wondered what it would be like if he took you up in his wings to fly, you've always thought they were so majestic but you never envisioned it going like this.

it's hard to hear and talk over the heavy patter of the rain but you try anyway. "keigo where are we going?"

"home," he replies and you hear him loud and clear, you don't know if that's because he's louder than the rain or leaning close to you or if you hear it loud and clear because your heart is just beating out of your chest at the answer.

it seemed like a long while of flying but when you finally reached the floor keigo carefully landed and put you down. looking around to where you are you see that you're outside a cave but you don't know that you can call it a cave anymore. at a quick glance from the outside it looks like it was originally a cave but the opening is covered by rocks, wood and other building materials, keeping the inside warm and dry. there's a wooden door to the side and you think you can see a lock on it. the outside reminded you a lot of your childhood home but you can't pinpoint why. "come," he grabs your wrist cautiously with his talons and leads you inside.

a blast of heat hits you when you enter and you immediately warm up, even if it's just a little bit through your wet clothes. it looks pretty barren apart from some small trinkets along the wall and the bed is covered in blankets and other fluffy comfortable things, definitely more comfortable than anything you've been sleeping recently. you stay where you are not moving from the door, not wanting to get everything wet. keigo leaves but comes back a minute or so after with a towel for you and second one in his hand for him.

"thank you," you say quietly and shyly taking the towel from him. after doing your best to dry your hair and dry the rest of your clothes keigo leans down to your neck and nuzzles you while cooing, heat quickly rises to your cheeks and he pulls back and takes you further into his home before dropping your hand and he goes back into one of his back rooms.

you miss his hand in yours but when he returns he's holding a shirt, "for you."

"me?" you point to yourself and he nods. "i don't know if it will fit, i might be a bit small." you tell him but he looks back at you with an easygoing smile that puts you at ease. you know it probably won't fit right, you're not exactly small but you don't have much choice with how wet your clothes are. "thank you," you return his smile. you feel small under his gaze as he looks at you, it seems like he has no plan to leave you alone to get changed or look away. "um, okay, i'll-" you turn away from him and lift up your top. when you take it off and start to fold it keigo holds you from behind, wrapping his arms around you, his wings softly fluttering. you get flustered and wonder what you should do, this isn't normal human behaviour but keigo isn't human maybe this is completely normal for him, although he's never done this before, but maybe he knows how cold you are.

"k-keigo i need to put this on, i'll get cold." he's slow as he takes his hands off you, making you shiver in the process. you quickly get changed pulling on the top that you've been given and pulling down your trousers. you were right about how it doesn't fit you but at least you're dry. the top is thin and covers up to your mid-thigh, the fabric tight along your waist, stomach and breasts but it's still comfortable. you turn round to look at him and twiddle with your thumbs, he smiles at you again and rubs his face against yours, making your cheeks heat up.

"drink?"

"huh?" you ask slightly distracted by how intimate this is.

"drink? keep you warm." he gestures to you and then gestures to another room. you nod your head, not knowing what drink you're saying yes to but happy to be warm and experience what drinks keigo likes and drinks, it might just be tea you'll have to wait and see.

you feel a bit uncomfortable just standing around and you don't notice any chairs so you perch yourself on the bed, hoping keigo won't mind. when keigo comes back he's wearing different clothes and he's holding two mugs, you smile at him and you notice he doesn't smile back. 'did i do something wrong? he's not smiling. maybe i was wrong about him not minding about me sitting down on the bed, i should of just stayed standing up.' keigo is holding onto the mugs so tightly that his hands are turning white. "i'm really sorry keigo, i didn't mean to make you angry," you rush out as quick as you can, hurrying to get up but as you start lifting off the bed two feathers rapidly leave keigo's wings and pins you down to the bed by the top you're wearing. you've never seen him do that before so part of you is thinking about how impressive it is, the other part of you worried and confused hoping he'll forgive you for whatever accidental mistake you made.

keigo places the cups down on the side. "i'm sor-" before you can finish your sentence, he moves on top of you, making your eyes widen, at that moment you see his eyes, heavily dilated looking down at you tenderly but hungrily.

"do you like?" he asks stroking your chubby cheeks.

"like?" you ask confused.

"nest." he kisses your nose.

you're not one hundred percent sure what you're saying yes to but you think he's talking about what you're laying on and you do like it, it's warm and cosy and you could stay here for ever. "i like it very much. i could stay here forever."

keigo trills when he hears you say that, "did a good job?"

you never thought keigo would be one for seeking approval but you suppose everyone does. "amazing job." you nod your head and lift your hands up to his wings and run your hands through them making him shiver. after all that's happened you're still surprised as he gently bites your lip, a silent request for you to open your mouth and you grant him access, parting your lips, keigo taking the lead controlling the movement as your tongues intertwine and you kiss. you have no idea how much time goes by, so caught up in the moment, it could of been three minutes or thirty for all you know, all you know is how good everything feels.

as you move apart you open up your eyes to see him smirking at you, your cheeks are hot. he kisses the corner of your mouth and squeezes your plush thighs before gently trailing his knuckle up and down your inner thigh, slowly inching up your, his, top. keigo brings both his hands to your outer thighs and slivers up the rest of the top until he sees your hips, eyes practically glowing as he nuzzles your neck again.

at some point while all of this was happening he started rubbing his hard dick along your thigh, getting precum everywhere, you had no idea when was able to take off his clothes.

this time he uses his talons as he rips up your underwear leaving you bare and maybe you should be scared of how close his talons were to you but you weren't. he uses his knuckles again and brushes along your opening, he thrills when he feels how wet you are and before you even realise it he's slowly pushing himself into you. he sees you wince and kisses all along your neck and pauses for a second, then continues just as slow as he was before not wanting to hurt you. when he's fully in he waits and kisses you all over, touching all over your body, your hips and stomach especially, groping and squeezing. keigo feels you start relaxing around him and starts moving, slow thrusts in and out of you, not wanting to hurt you.

keigo's thrusts start to speed up uncontrollable as he kept feeling you clench around him and how wet you are, almost feral, animalistic. a white creamy ring forms at the bottom of his dick and he becomes more and more feral. you moan loudly and bury your head into the soft blankets and materials. "feel so good!" you cry out mumbled against the pillows. you ball your fists up into the covers, holding onto them tight and keigo goes harder.

"you feel good too. i'll keep making you feel good," he leans down to your ear and kisses your cheek. you nod your head even though it wasn't a question and keigo's eyes dilate even more than they have been. he touches you very gently, circling against your clit and kisses your pulse point, delicately sucking a mark on your neck. his pace stays the same, still fast. your back arches and you feel the coil in your stomach winding up more and more, so close to snapping. you whine as the coil in you snaps and you cum, body tight in an arch before shaking.

keigo smirks as he watches your body fall and go limp. he picks up your legs and folds you in half, gripping hold of your thighs tightly and his pace increases so fast that it leaves you breathless, your body bounces and he watches you ravenously. "gonna give you my seed, gonna make you a pretty mummy." keigo chokes a groan and holds onto you tighter. you should be trying to move away and tell him no but you don't, instead you clench tighter around him and nod your head rapidly in desire, you've never wanted something so badly. warm ropes of cum spills into you filling you up. keigo smirks and peppers your face with kisses.

"keigo have you seen how messy tsunagu's clothes are! it's a nightmare washing them all the time!" you complain scowling as you pick up your youngest sons shirt.

keigo chuckles and comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing you behind you ear, "he's such a troublemaker." you shiver as you feel his breath against your skin and his voice so close to you, he smirks.

it's been five years since you first stepped foot in your home, it's been five years since you and keigo first had sex. in those five years a lot has changed, your relationship included. you and keigo have no problem communicating anymore, both now speaking the same language with keigo learning how to write and read everything too. you have two boys together and they're wonderful. you got married and it was one of the happiest days of your life. you've practically abandoned human civilisation, by your own choice. occasionally you'll go into town if you need something but you stay in the forest most of the time. you've met keigo's friend and they all call him hawks, even the ones he's known since children. you asked him why he told you to call him keigo when you first met especially since everyone calls him hawks and he told you it's because he knew as soon as he met you that you were his mate and you would spend the rest of your life together.

"i know a way to calm him down." you hear the mischievous tone in his voice.

you play along, "oh?"

"i think he needs to be a big brother." he pulls you closer to him and rubs your soft stomach.

grinning wide, "really?"

keigo hums and kisses your neck. "yeah birdie, a little one he can help and look after will keep him out of trouble." he nuzzles against you and plays with your stomach. he turns you around to look at him, holding onto your hands and smirking. nonchalantly asking, "what are we aiming for this time? a girl or another boy?" he taps his finger to his chin, "i'm thinking girl."

"i'm thinking a girl too," you smile fondly and kiss his nose. keigo's wings flutter out when you kiss him and you giggle.

there was no doubt about it, keigo was an absolute prodigy in bed. he was a mind altering experience in the sheets. and although he came off cocky and self-absorbed, there was nothing that got keigo off more than your pleasure. he could just tell you hadn’t been with anyone as good as him, and your body language with him boosted his ego enough by itself. but when you couldn’t help but spew how amazing he made you feel, that pushed him over the edge more than anything. maybe it was all selfish in the end.

however, keigo never understood your hesitation to let him give you oral. he let you go down on him, more than he’d like to admit, but he had never gotten the chance to reciprocate that pleasure. and there was nothing on this earth keigo takami loved more than eating pussy. when he was younger and whored around more, it was his favorite thing to do to all the girls he slept with. and he wanted to eat you, so bad he could taste it.

he asked repeatedly for months, and you always said you didn’t like it, that it was uncomfy for you. but really, you’d never even had your pussy eaten, and you only didn’t want to because you didn’t want to be judged. your taste, whether or not keigo would like it, was all you worried about. keigo didn’t bother with it anymore.

that was, until he had one particularly fucked day when you were off. you hadn’t heard from him all day, but you had taken the day to take care of yourself, even having time to take an everything shower. you felt fresh and pristine awaiting your boyfriend’s arrival in his apartment, in the soft robe he kept for you at his place. your hero stumbled through the doors dramatically, eyes locking on you in an instant.

“hi, baby!” you chirp from the expensive couch, leisurely sitting with your legs crossed, phone open with some thread talking about your boyfriend. he stomps over to you, throwing his gloves off and pushing his glasses up on his head. by the way he’s acting, it’s obvious to you he had a rough day. before you can even offer him anything to relax, though, he’s dropping to his knees in front of you, wings lazily spread out to block most of your vision.

“i want to eat you out, baby. please,” keigo begs, pawing at your thighs and the robe that covered them. his request makes you tense up for a moment, you were used to fucking some nights when he’d walk through the door, or even give him head, but never this.

“why don’t i do something to make you feel better?” you suggest, leaning down to catch your boyfriend’s lips in a quick kiss. surprisingly, he shakes his head no, only continuing to feel his way around your legs.

“no, i wanna taste you.”

you move back on the couch, disconnecting your legs from his hands. keigo can tell you’re nervous, unsure about such an intimate act, but right now, he’d do anything just to get his tongue on the sweetness in between your legs.

“what if...i taste bad? what if you don’t like it?” you question, trying to stall and convince him that maybe he doesn’t actually want to eat you out—but there’s a fire in the back of his eyes that says he’d determined. he won’t go anywhere until he gets what he wants.

“trust me,” keigo begins, grabbing your hand to kiss the back of it, “i’m gonna love it, no matter what,” and he drops his head to rest it on your thigh, “and you will, too. please, let me.”

needless to say, you couldn’t say no to your boyfriend anymore. not when, within record time, he had you sprawled out on his huge bed, kissing your body as he works his way down to the place he’d wanted a taste of, forever. his wings shudder when he gets in between your thighs, able to smell the arousal off of you, off of your sweet pussy he’d wanted to have like this. you yelp when he kisses over the fabric of your panties, sloppily trailing his lips and tongue all over the slit hidden by cheap cotton.

“what did you do today?” keigo asks, leaning back for only a second to pull off the pesky garment separating you from his mouth.

“u—um,” you mutter, going silent when he hungrily spreads your thighs open, looking at your folds like he hadn’t seen food in 10 years.

“tell me,” he softly demands, looking up at you with those gorgeous golden eyes—you melt. he kisses up the sensitive flesh, outright teasing you until you begin to speak.

“um, i—i woke up, at like, 9:30,” you slowly begin, labored breaths puffing out of your lungs.

“yeah?” mwah, “what else?”

it’s sick the way he enjoys seeing you so ravished and nervous, all over a little pussy eating. but he’d be lying to himself if he said it was easy to hold back right now. keigo can see that you’re dripping arousal at the compromised situation, and how desperate you are for a little contact—even if it’s something you were inexperienced with.

“and then, i made breakfast—keigo—,” you whisper his name as his tongue comes to swipe, just once, over your sensitive bundle of nerves. it sends shockwaves down your spine from how sensitive and aroused you are—it’s intoxicating, and you want more.

“what’d you have, pretty?” his voice is teasing, and his head rests upon your inner thigh again, waiting for you to answer him.

“i made—mm,” a light moan bubbles from your throat when his tongue swipes again, “a smoothie, and—and eggs,” your words draw themselves out, shaky and slow, as you fight the urge to shut your thighs around keigo’s head. his tongue traces tight small circles right on the tip of your clit—tender and attentively—he knows how much better it feels to start off slow, tame.

keigo threatens to stop his movements, slowly pulling away from you. it’s a game to him, really, to see how much you can take before you’ll never want it to end. and to think you were so scared about it—but keigo’s getting off on it more than you. shakily sighing, you swallow and continue speaking.

“then, i cleaned—i cleaned my apartment, some.”

keigo could laugh at your stammering, but instead decides to indulge you more. he lays his tongue flat and wriggles side to side, covering the upper half on your cunt entirely, before taking a long lick up. your legs shiver, his wings perk up, he notices the reaction and whimper you give and he does it again, and again. you squeeze your eyes shut, getting lost in how heavenly it feels, but keigo stops, shattering your pleasured trance. you whine.

“after that, i came over here,” you pause for a second when keigo’s tongue begins to lap at you again, “and—baby,” you whimper out for him again, dragging out the ‘y’ and lulling your head to the side, “cleaned here, too.”

“how sweet,” keigo coos, pulling back entirely from your cunt, “trying to keep my apartment nice to come home to, hm?”

“mm—mhmm!” you hum, the simple sound stuttering out as keigo dips his tongue down into your sopping hole, fucking you with his tongue. his nose nudges against your clit at the same time, warm muscle constricting inside of you, sending stars into your vision. “then i—showered, and shaved—,” you’re trying so hard to not let the pleasure overcome you. keigo can tell. he’s too good at this type of thing.

your thighs mindlessly spread wider, inviting keigo in even more. your hips stutter and barely grind on his face. the little stubble he keeps is rightfully soaked now, dripping with the arousal he conjured up so easily. you can feel his tongue all over you, lapping up and down your wet folds, paying extra attention when he gets to around your clit. he flicks and circles the bud and wraps his lips around it to suck lightly.

sweaty fingers of yours thread through his hair, knocking his glasses off, you’re pushing his head into you because it’s all so good. keigo’s wings stutter and move around a little, finding pleasure in the way you’re pulling his hair, the way you’re now grinding all over his face, losing yourself in the feeling. and losing yourself you are, as that knot grows in your abdomen towards your release.

“keigo,” you moan, so sultry and like you hadn’t ever before, “i’m gonna cum!” your voice is slutty, needy, and your boyfriend can’t get enough of it.

keigo hums something, muffled by your cunt, the vibrations sending a shock through your core. you mewl out a choked moan, loud, and it lets keigo know to not stop, keep going to get you there. he continues to mumble words into your cunt, sliding his mouth and nose all through your folds, shaking his head side to side vigorously to literally drown in the pussy. yours is the only one he’d drown in, of course.

with a nasty moan, you topple over the edge, it’s almost too much for you. your orgasm is intense, toes curling and hips stuttering, trying so hard to ride yourself through it. keigo takes a few more long licks through your folds, stopping when your thighs begin to shake from the overstimulation. he draws his head back from your cunt, a long string of arousal connecting to his chin, a lazy, satisfied smile on his face. cocky bastard.

“see, told you i’d like it.”