honeybuckin10

[honeybuckin10]

Happy Pride specifically to Ridoc Gamlyn we’ll get you a boyfriend soon sweetie

[honeybuckin10]

Cut From The Same Cloth - Part 3 (Ridoc x fem!bi!reader) (18+)

summary: Everyone at Basgiath knows you and Ridoc are basically the same person: charming, chaotic, and completely incapable of keeping your hands — or your flirting — to yourselves. But the rules you made to protect your friendship start to look more like excuses to avoid the truth. Tropes Ensue (friends to idiots to lovers) [w/c: ~6.2k]

warnings (18+ mdni): smut, power play, hair pulling, slight dom/sub dynamics, power bottoms?, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), oral (f receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, language, angst?, fluff

a/n: hello! this is 10% plot, 90% smut. if you want plot, see part 1 and part 2. i don't write smut frequently so please be gentle with constructive feedback :) also, because apparently i have no self control, there will be a short bonus chapter after this. thanks for reading, don't be a ghost reader! i hope you enjoy <3

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

“For the love of all that is good and holy,” Without breaking eye contact, you used lesser magic to shut the door behind you and lock it. “Don’t make me change my mind, Gamlyn.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. You saw a brief flash of a wide grin before he grabbed you by the base of your neck to bring you in again, setting your body on fire. You took pride in the low groan he let out when he felt you bracket his hips. There was nothing sweet or soft about the way he palmed your ass, his fingers sinking into your flesh and drawing you impossibly closer as your tongues battled for dominance in an intricate dance. His fingers only left their perch to play with the hem of your shirt.

You pulled away to assist, licking your now swollen lips. Ridoc whimpered at the sight, eyes nearly rolling back into his head as you peeled off the layer of fabric. Still straddling him clothed from the bottom down, you teased him by rolling your hips against his. A wicked grin plastered your face as you felt him harden beneath you.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his hands slowly trailing from your hips up to your now bare waist. Your breath hitched as his icy touch left goosebumps in its wake.

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” you cooed. Your hips still rocking at a glacial teasing pace, you dragged a finger down the center of his chest to his stomach before slowing to where your bodies junctured.

“I haven’t,” he hissed as his hands tried to climb higher up your body.

Oh, right. The last time you fucked you had only peeled away enough to expose the essentials to make the, uh, union happen. The uncharacteristically serious stolen stares during sparring made more sense in hindsight, when all you wore was a thin tank top leaving more skin and curves on display than usual. The man had been inside you but you’d never actually seen each other naked. 

Despite your position on top of him, you felt suddenly bashful. Thankfully your cheeks were already flushed with lust, so it’s not like he could tell the difference. But the way he made you feel perplexed you. You were confident in your body and your sexuality, but around him? The way he looked at you with a reverence reserved for the gods had you stumbling over yourself and you felt like a shy school girl. He made you feel… beautiful? Not hot, not pretty. Seen. Whole. The realization caused your reticence to give way to desire, and all you wanted to do was make him feel the way he made you feel.

“Then let me show you.” You clasped his hands to pin them down at his sides. His eyes widened and his adams apple bob in his throat at the sudden restraint. You bit back a small smile as you gazed down upon him, sitting a little taller with newfound assurance. His eyes laser focused on your hands as you slowly drew them up your stomach and grazed over the slope of your breasts before they disappeared behind your back to unclasp your bra. He absentmindedly licked his lips at the sight of the slight bounce of your breasts as you set them free.

“I haven’t even touched you,” he rasped, noticing your already pebbled nipples. You didn’t stop him this time as he reached for them again. You took a sharp inhale as his chilled finger tips delicately traced up your obliques. You placed your hands over his to guide him the rest of the way, and gasped when they finally reached their destination. Your eyes fluttered shut and melted into his touch, lost to the pleasure as his thumbs traced little circles around the peaked nubs. You fell forward slightly wanting to be closer to him again. He pushed himself up to meet you the rest of the way, one calloused hand continuing its work on your chest while taking the other into his mouth. Gasps turned into light breathy moans as his tongue swirled, flicked, and sucked the sensitive spot. 

His hand only let go briefly to adjust your position, pulling you further into his lap as he sat upright to get a better angle. You were acutely aware of the slickness gathering in your underwear, largely due to the tent in his pants pressing against you. You let out a louder moan, urgency and frustration taking over. Your hands fell to the hem of his shirt, desperate to remove the pesky layer of separation, but he swatted you away.

“Hey!” you pouted, offended at the rejection. He just shook his head, smiling like the Mona Lisa. “I’m trying to help,” you insisted, this time lowering your hands to his pants hoping it would be more convincing. But he didn’t let you touch him there either. He briefly leaned up to give you a chaste kiss on the lips, warm brown eyes twinkling.  

“You don’t have to do a thing,” he said as you felt him adjust the pretzel you found yourselves in. In a blink of an eye, the feverish skin on your back was on the cool floor.

“What are you…” you trailed off. You felt him undo the laces of your shoes as he took them off, one by one. He moved over your body, the waist of your pants loosening before being tugged off. You grinned as he crawled on top of you, caging you beneath him in another kiss. The floor was cold. He was cold. You were on fire. You were stark naked while he was still fully clothed. The whole thing was lewd and lascivious despite how innocent the kiss was, and the ache between your thighs grew.

He separated from you to trail his eyes down the length of your body. The familiar self-consciousness only Ridoc could raise in you returned under his gaze, but you resisted the urge to cover yourself. Instead you studied him in equal measure, noting that his pants looked painfully tight. The least you could do was lend a helping hand. You needed to feel him again. Whether it was in your hands, your mouth, or down south. Hopefully all three if you were lucky. You lamely reached for him – any part of him - but he pulled himself off you and stood up. You whimpered at the loss of him.

“No,” you whined.

“Fuck,” he huffed, palming his crotch as he looked down at you. “You’re gorgeous.” He said it under his breath, you weren’t sure if he’d meant for you to hear it, but you did. Warmth bloomed across your body, the “l” word at the tip of your tongue. Whether it was love or lust, you couldn’t be sure. You felt pathetic clenching your thighs at nothing when Ridoc should be between them.

Without another word he scooped you up from the floor in his noticeably muscular arms, ignoring your questions and protests as he placed you on edge of the bed. He only took off his boots, and nothing else, before laying himself smack dab in the middle of the bed. He looked at you expectantly with his hands behind his head.

Odd move, but sure, you’d go with it. Maybe he wanted you to go down on him? You began to crawl your way over to him, stopping when you got to his pants, your hand smoothed over the obvious bulge but he grabbed your wrist. Your brows furrowed in annoyance.

“This hardly seems fair,” you stated.

“On the contrary,” he said with a mischievous grin that caused butterflies in your stomach to take flight.

“I’m going to put my clothes back on if you don’t cut it out.” The hand wrapped around your wrist yanked forward. You yelped as you fell onto him.

“I promise, you don’t want to do that.” You felt his breath tickle your ear, his mouth ghosting your skin. It sent a shiver down your spine. You turned your head to look at him.

“Care to share before I wipe that smirk off your face?” You were all bark and no bite, unless he was into that sort of thing. The smirk turned into a toothy grin, clearly pleased with himself.

“Now you’re getting the idea.” You squealed when he roughly grabbed your hips and dragged you forwards until your knees spread wide bracketing his shoulders. His eyes lowered to your crotch that was now inches away from his face, loosening his grip on your hips to draw little circles on your thighs. He licked his lips again. “What was it you said? Seats shouldn’t talk?”

Oh.

Wide palms splayed across your inner thighs and drew upwards, slowing just short of where your panty line would’ve been if you were still wearing any. His breath tickled your glistening entrance causing your whole body to tense. He enjoyed his front row seat watching you squirm as his fingers inched closer to your bundle of nerves but cruelly evaded contact. Your pulse quickened in anticipation, eyeing his aimlessly wandering thumb like a hawk. He followed your gaze.

“Don’t get shy on me now. You have to tell me what you want.”

He gave you only a moment of reprieve as the pad of his thumb gently grazed over your clit. Your hips jerked involuntarily at the touch. 

“You’re an ass,” you hissed. You tried to move his hand back to position but he grabbed your wrist and pressed it tightly to the outside of your thigh.

“An ass who’s going to give you the best orgasm of your life if you ask nicely,” he teased. His playful smile juxtaposed your agonized expression, brows pinched in frustration. You weren’t sure when Ridoc became the pinnacle of control, but you knew your own patience was worn thin. You closed your eyes, a parting farewell to your dignity. Your pride finally conceded to your hunger.

“Please. Please touch me,” you whimpered. He hummed his nonchalant approval.

“See? That wasn’t so hard.”

You were rewarded with his thumb once more, which dipped briefly between your folds before moving up to your clit coated with your arousal. You let out an eager moan as he twirled icy circles around you, his light pressure slowly building with his pace.

Dark dilated pupils darted between your entrance and your face. Ridoc had been holding back – the first and last time with you was quick and messy and unceremonious. He wanted everything to be perfect this time because you deserved nothing less. He wanted to take his time, remember every peak and valley of your body, relearn and memorize how you reacted to his touch. But those breathy sounds you were making – your head tipped back, lips parted, back arched - left cracks in any semblance of control he was trying to maintain. He needed more of you, all of you, and his intrusive thoughts won out in the internal war that waged within him.

“Come here,” he growled. Your pout from the loss of his touch was short lived, turning into a yelp as he grabbed your hips and tugged you forward, finally closing the gap between you and his mouth. Surprise and panic gave way to lust, his tongue replacing where his fingers were moments ago.

Your now free hand flew to his messy hair, the other grabbed the headboard for stability. Your head lolled backwards, losing yourself to the sensations beneath you. The cool air emanating from him, his tongue that switched between soft licks and firm pressure. Up and down, side to side, flicks, sucks. You dared to look down and your inner thighs tensed at the sight below you. Ridoc had his eyes closed, so lost in you. One hand groped for your breast, fondling whatever he could reach, the other firmly on your ass to keep you in place.

His eyes flashed open, feeling your muscles tense around his head. It startled you, but it wasn’t as startling as the hard spank that interrupted his rhythm.  

“Sit,” he commanded. You were so delirious with pleasure you could barely think straight. 

“I am,” you whined, confused at what you had done to deserve this cruel torture. He smacked your ass again, his fingers sinking deeper into your flesh. You accidentally tugged harder on his hair in response, he joined you as another moan fell from your lips.

“No, you’re hovering. I said sit,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I’m going to suffocate you,” you rasped. He let out a small laugh, massaging the muscle beneath him in encouragement. He pressed a gentle kiss to your clit.

“If I die, I die. Actually, considering how many other ways this school could kill me it would probably be a preferable way to go so in a way you’d actually be doing me a favor. Now for the last fucking time –“

That was all the convincing you needed, unable to wait a second longer. The reverberations of his groans absorbed into you as you allowed your full weight to relax onto him. You ground on to his face, applying the pressure you frantically needed. He met your desperation, burying himself in you. White hot pleasure lit you from within when you felt his tongue stiffen, forcing entry into your dripping center. You gripped both hands on the headboard as your hips began to buck, forward and back, the bridge of his nose hitting your clit over and over. The coil of pressure deep in your lower abdomen tightened. His tongue darted in and out of you relentlessly, your walls fluttering. The shallow penetration simultaneously not enough and everything all at once. Oh gods.

Every nerve in your body fired off. The coil inside you snapped and suddenly you were crying out Ridoc’s name and nonsensical praise fell from your lips. His mouth didn’t stop working until he was sure you were completely still, your legs convulsing around his head as you rode out your orgasm.

“Fuck.” His eyes fluttered open at the sound of your voice, the rise and fall of your chest coming into focus. He licked his lips, savoring the remnants of you. Fuck is right. He remembered how painfully tight his pants were as you came down from your high. A smile graced his face again knowing he’d soon be inside of you. He became more alert, however, when you said it a second, a third, and fourth time with more urgency as you rose off him.

“Yes, I was going to,” he chided, hoping to deescalate whatever panic you were in. Did he do a bad job? He’d never gotten negative feedback before, but there was a first for everything. Or worse, were you having second thoughts about all this? Were you about to put another wall up? His mind quickly sifted through everything that could have gone wrong until he smelled something burning.

“This isn’t the time for jokes, Ridoc!” Your voice rose in alarm as you swatted the top of the headboard.

“Hey hey hey! It’s ok, shhh,” he tried to console you, drawing little circles along your back. He got himself out from under you, propping himself up on his knees next to you to examine whatever it was that had you in such distress. “I’m sure whatever it is we can figure it ou-“

Embers flickered and smoke billowed from where hand shaped burn marks branded into the headboard. He let out a raucous laugh.

“This isn’t funny!” Your voice climbed higher, unphased by the rider’s levity, eyes wide with panic. He reached for your hand but you yanked it away before he could touch you. “I could’ve hurt you!”

His eyes softened at the realization and gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Hot stuff, look at me.” He slowly placed his hand over the burning embers that sizzled as they snuffed out, little ice crystals forming over the area. Your breath began to slow. He reached for your hand again and you let him take it this time. Steam rose from where your fingers laced together. “It’s alright, you can’t hurt me. At least not here… with your signet,” he trailed off. You could definitely hurt him. On the sparring mat, with or without signets. His pride and his feelings, if you rejected him after all of this.

You finally looked at him in earnest, melting all over again. You suddenly remembered you were very naked and he was still very clothed. Your steaming hands. The burnt/frozen headboard. It was the most romantic thing you could have imagined. You broke your gaze with him, the rest of his face coming to view. His lips, nose, and chin glistened with your essence. Renewed vigor simmered within you, heat rising back to your cheeks. More steam trailed from your interlocked hands.

“Can I?” you asked meekly. You gently directed your hands towards his face and he nodded, leading you the rest of the way. He placed your palm on his cheek, and leaned into your touch. You held your breath, carefully watching for any adverse reactions but found none. You pulled your hand away, revealing a reddened patch of skin that faded quickly.

“See?” he held your hand again and pressed a delicate reassuring kiss to your knuckles. You nodded, dazed, blood flow no longer being directed to your brain. You brought your hand back to his face to drag your thumb along his chin to wipe away a spot where you’d left your mark. He grabbed it before you could put it anywhere else that wasn’t his mouth. You watched through lidded eyes as his tongue swirled around it, making sure to lick every drop. He released you with a satisfying pop, then extending his tongue around his mouth to make sure he got the rest of you. Another wave of lust coursed through you.

“Now, can we fuck or not? Because these pants are getting really uncomfortable-”

You nearly pounced on him, causing you to both tumble onto the bed. Between sloppy, erratic kisses you both clawed at his shirt to get it off. Your hands claimed the bare space once it was gone, dragging down the ripples of his abs and gently landing over the front of his pants. He groaned at your touch.

Ridoc in that moment accepted his fate. There was no world in which you two were capable of taking things slow. You both dove head first into the deep end, you could ask questions later. You were a hot spring to his tundra - magma bubbling just below the surface, a volcanic eruption waiting to happen at any moment.   

He tugged your lower lip between his teeth as frantic fingers fumbled with buttons. Four hands pushed the waist band of his pants down, setting the absolute monster he was hiding free. Ridoc sighed with relief, and you took the moment to look down and failed to suppress the gasp that left your mouth. He chuckled and his shaft twitched against his toned stomach, eager for your touch.

“Come on,” he tilted his head with a lopsided smirk. “You knew it was big.” He oozed pride and arrogance, which you unfortunately found insanely hot.

“I mean yeah, but I-I…” you stammered, eyes wide. You were flustered all over again thinking about the first time with Ridoc. It was such a blur, but it was a memory you returned to often – when you went to bed, when you were bored in class or training, when you took other people home after a night out. Of course you remembered feeling delightfully stretched and full and the lingering soreness that lasted for two days afterwards. That being said, in the name of efficiency you weren’t exactly paying close attention when he whipped it out. Otherwise, you surely would’ve remembered that you could barely wrap your hand around it.

Your mouth hung open, lost in your reverie salivating at the view in front of you. He stroked himself absentmindedly sprawled across a heap of pillows and your comforter, clearly enjoying your mental short-circuit instead of your usual snarky retorts. He reached his other hand between your thighs, his fingers toying your entrance. You gasped. He grinned.

Yep, still wet.

He wasn’t touching you like he was trying to get you off. He touched you like he owned you, and you were a conveniently accessible toy to pass the time. Your walls fluttered watching him lazily work the both of you like he had all the time in the world. But there was so much lost time to make up for. You couldn’t remember why you had denied yourself for all these months. Had it been a year yet?

“Having second thoughts or have I finally left you speechless?” He would’ve been more serious about stopping, but you were looking at him like he was a mirage of water in the middle of a desert.

You snapped out of your trance. You leered over him, one hand placed next to his head and the other wrapped a possessively around his shaft. His hand fell away, allowing you to pump up and down a few times at an agonizingly slow pace. You brushed your lips against his, but pulled away when he tried to close the tiny gap.

“Never. But…” You slithered down his body, feeling his muscles tense underneath you in your wake, until your mouth was millimeters from his cock. You let out an exaggerating exhale, your hot wet breath causing him to twitch. “I can think of something else that might do the trick.” You locked eyes with him, a cruel smile tugged on your lips. His breath hitched as you spat on his tip, making sure he had a clear view of the saliva that dripped from your tongue.

Your room hadn’t gotten any colder, but you could see Ridoc’s breath billow from his lips. His free hand found your hair, and you prepped your eager throat. But instead of pushing your face onto him, he yanked you back exposing your neck.

“I’ll keep that in mind for another time,” he drawled with a lazy smile.

“You’re mean,” you whined, another wave of arousal pooling between your legs.

“I think you and I have very different definitions of that word,” He let out a genuine laugh, even as he guided you back up his chest by your hair, ignoring your moans. “With your mouth? I would’ve been done in three seconds. And then I wouldn’t be able to fuck you. That wouldn’t be very nice, would it?”

You shook your head as much as you were able to in his grasp while he positioned you on his lap. His grip on the back of your head loosed as he sunk his fingers into your now wild mane, his tongue delicately tracing up the column of your neck. A shiver ran down your spine, your chest heaved with ragged breaths of anticipation.

“Haven’t stopped thinking about being inside you since they day I met you,” he murmured against your skin. He lifted his hips ever so slightly as you writhed against his hardened length. “How could I pass up the opportunity now?” he said as he peppered kisses along your jaw line. You looked to the heavens and bit your lip to suppress the unholy sounds your body wanted to let out, simultaneously thanking the gods for this moment and this man and praying you’d survive whatever came next.

His mouth found the sweet spot on your neck and your hips instinctively rolled. The moan you were holding in released as you slid easily over him, coating him with your essence. He smoothed your hair out of your face, revealing your furrowed brow tense with need.  

“I know you’ve been dying to ride this dick,” his breath caressed your feverish skin. His hands found your hips and forced you to grind onto him, hard and slippery. “What are you fucking waiting for?”  

He saw your eyes flash briefly before you grabbed his jaw to bring him into another bruising kiss, your tongue expertly tangling with his. You only let go of his hair to reach behind you to wrap your fist around his shaft. You teasingly dragged his tip between your folds, drenching him, before aligning it with your entrance. But then you stopped. He groaned.

“I’m waiting for you to ask nicely,” you whispered against his lips. He was right, you were dying to fuck him. But now was your only opportunity for payback before you fully lost control. You knew all bets were off once he was inside you.  

“Please?” he asked hopefully.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you,” you cooed.

“Please,” he insisted more firmly, but still laced with desperation and need.

“Please what?” You rubbed his tip against your entrance without offering additional reprieve. The coy smile on your face disappeared when he grabbed your hair again, giving it a firm tug.

“Please ride my cock with that perfect pussy of yours,” he growled slowly, his deep baritone in stark contrast to his previous whimpering. Fuck, you wanted to give in so badly, but you were also having too much fun teasing him.  

“Or else?” you toyed, trying and failing to hide your growing excitement of the potential consequences of your defiance. His hips lifted and you gasped when you felt his tip just barely enter you.

“Or else I won’t let you fucking come the rest of the night,” he taunted, his chiding voice thick with arousal.

You quirked an eyebrow, using all your effort to maintain your composure to not fully acquiesce. But the growing slickness between your legs betrayed your façade.

“You wouldn’t.” He smirked.

“Wanna bet?”

Your legs already felt like jelly but despite how convincing he was, you were no quitter. You took a deep breath and sank your weight on to him, agonizingly slow to adjust to his size until his length was fully sheathed in you. You studied the way his face contorted as he disappeared inside you. A moan drew from his lips and yours, a symphony of euphoria filling the room.

He looked quite pleased with himself, thinking he’d won. But you stopped moving again when he bottomed out, earning another tortured groan from the rider. You took a moment to lace you fingers with his before pinning them next to his head. In the most saccharine tone you could muster, you told him in no uncertain terms who exactly was in charge.

“You’re going to take what I give you,” you said slowly, as you lifted your hips off him at the same pace nearly to the point of dismount, “and you’re going to like it.” You tried not to laugh at his anguished face, his entire body taut with frustration. “Understood?” He nodded fervently.

“Yes ma’am.” You sank back down, engulfing him once more. You smiled down at him.

“Good boy.”

The teasing allowed you time to adjust to his size, as you continued with your agonizing pace. You released his wrists to lean back, your languid hips swirling over him feeling deliciously stretched and filled.

Ridoc tried to stop his eyes from rolling in the back of his head, he didn’t want to miss a second of the show you were giving him. His hands left the mattress and moved their way to your thighs, tracing their way up to your hips. You flinched briefly at his cold touch, but you didn’t stop him as his grip tightened around you to gently guide your undulations. He loved the way your flesh prickled underneath him, the way your breasts bounced in time with your grinding, the way you said his name like a prayer and you probably weren’t even aware of anything coming out of your mouth at this point.

“Fuck, you look so pretty with me inside you.” His voice echoed in your brain, pushing you to delirium. Your established dominance cracked as you melted at his praise. You may not remember everything that happened in the supply closet, but your bodies did. Your hips jerked faster and he began to upthrust to meet them, settling into a wild rhythm. The two of you became more and more unwound as you pressed on to him and he met you with thrusts of equal fervor. Unholy filth fell from your mouth as he hit that sweet spot deep inside you over and over, knocking you forward.

“Ridoc, I-I-“ Stars formed behind your eyes, your vision blurring.

“That’s it, keep fucking me,” he demanded. The sound of slick bodies slapping together thundered through the room. The repetition of your clit sliding against his body edged you closer to the impending waterfall at the verge of your sanity. Overwhelming heat built within you, dizzying ecstasy growing wilder by the second.

You looked down at Ridoc who was entirely enthralled with the vision of you bouncing on top of him, you were sure he’d never concentrated on anything so hard in his entire life. He let you keep going as he wordlessly fitted his hands underneath yours again. You gladly pinned them down, his submission enough to push you over the edge. Pleasure crescendo’d through your body as you collapsed onto him.

Ridoc held you tight to his chest, absorbing your vibrations and heatas you came undone. He wanted to kiss you, but his name had never sounded so good and it would be a pity to cut you off. So he settled on whispering little words of encouragement from underneath you as you rode out the rest of your release.

Your muscles finally stopped spasming, the chill of Ridoc’s body regulating your body temperature. You only had a moment to catch your breath though before you found yourself on your back and Ridoc pummeling into you once more.

Oh fuck

You barely registered the cold damp spot under your shoulder as Ridoc’s hips snapped into you at a punishing pace that had you a moaning mess all over again.

“You feel so good,” you mumbled between messy kisses, your mingled breaths frosting between you. Your nails clawed into his back, drawing him impossibly closer.

He pumped into you, harder, faster, driving you both to delirium with each stroke. Your hips lifted off the bed with the arch of your back, a string of moans and expletives leaving your mouth. One of his hands reached between your bodies to find your clit, flicking the swollen bundle with his index finger. You bucked at the overwhelming sensation, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare close your eyes. I want you to look at me when you come,” he growled between thrusts.  

“I-I can’t,” you whimpered between labored breaths, voice hoarse, overstimulation clouding every inch of your brain.

“Yes you can. You’re doing so good for me,” he praised. You didn’t fight when he pinned your hands above your head, relinquishing whatever little control you had left to him. His thrusts became more uneven and frenzied as he chased his own high.

You did as he commanded, immediately losing yourself in his warm gaze. You suddenly weren’t sure how you could ever look anywhere else. You bit your lip as the pressured continued to build, familiar fire and pressure growing from your core threatening consume your entire body. You felt your walls begin to clench again, your body eagerly anticipating its reward.

You unraveled under him, this time bringing him with you. A blanket of arctic chill enveloped you, icing over the sheets beneath you aside from the spot where he had your hands pinned which you melted. Pulsating waves washed over you as you felt him pour into you, a cacophony of moans filling the room.

He rested his forehead on yours as he came down from his climax, panting cool air down onto your flushed face. You stayed like that a moment, your bodies and minds inextricably intertwined, breath comingling in a cocktail of steam and frost.

Your eyes fluttered open when your heart’s palpitations slowed. You were met with his enchantingly curious eyes boring into yours. You couldn’t think of anything else besides what was in front of you. There was no fighting the stupid grin that etched its way to your face, which he matched with equal force. You blinked a few more times, just to make sure he was real.

“I think my ovaries just high fived,” you finally said when you caught your breath. His laughter rumbled in his chest as he rolled off you, pulling you flush to him and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“That good, huh?” You nuzzled into him.   

“You tell me,” you hummed. He ran a hand through his hair while contemplating his answer.

“I mean, I think I saw through space and time and I can hear colors. But yeah, it was alright I guess.” You laughed, your nose brushing against his collarbone.

“And we seem to have all our extremities in tact,” you said sarcastically.

“No mutual destruction here,” he concurred. Your cheeks turned scarlet again, scenes from your rendezvous already replaying in your mind. You winced.

“Yeah, just my headboard.” He looked away and bit his lip. You squinted at him as he mumbled something under his breath. “What was that?”

“And your sheets,” he added sheepishly, still only just loud enough for you to hear. You frowned and pulled away from him, intently surveying your surroundings.

“What happened to my sheets?” a hint of accusation rising in your voice.

“I’m a nice person and didn’t want to ruin your orgasm by letting you set them on fire. You’re welcome.” Sure enough, you found two holes in the textile the size of your palms with scorched edges, wet and cold with melted ice. You looked back at him incredulously.

“Both easily be fixable,” he tried to reassure you. “A small price to pay, don’t you think?”

Obviously, you weren’t actually mad at him. How could you be when he just bestowed upon you the most earth-shattering pleasure you’ve ever experienced? How could you be when he was looking at you like you personally strung each star in the sky? A surge of boldness came over you. You anxiously chewed the inside of your cheek, your confidence balanced by a healthy dose of apprehension for what you were about to say next.

“And… is this fixable?” He pulled away slightly.

“This?”

“You know…” you trailed off, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. Even though you really didn’t, you continued. “Like what just happened. Us. Is this going to be weird?” You know, the whole reason we said we were off limits in the first place you thought to yourself. Did you just make it weird by even asking in the first place?

To his credit he seemed to seriously consider your ill-worded query, uncharacteristically pensive but clearly not put off by it. You saw the wheels in his head turning.

“I mean, we were already weird. Maybe this is just a different genre of weird.” The weight on your chest lifted slightly, but your anxiety was a mighty beast that was not so easily vanquished.

“Right, but – was this just a hiccup? Do we pretend it didn’t happen?” He scoffed, clearly offended at the mere suggestion.

“If it was just a hiccup, it was a very enthusiastic hiccup. That hiccup had… limbs. And feelings.” Your heart stuttered, you glanced at him with muted surprise.

“Feelings?” you blurted. You didn’t mean to say it the way you did, with biting scandalization. The guilt was immediate, seeing his expression falter slightly at your reaction which one could easily interpret as repulsion at first glance.   

“Gee, I’m sorry my feelings-hiccup disgusts you,” genuine hurt laced in his voice.

“No, no I’m sorry that’s not what I meant,” you panicked, quickly trying to course-correct. “Our feelings-hiccup,” you clarified before proceeding, slowly. “It’s just… it’s delicate, and has a tendency to overanalyze things,” you said meekly.  

Offense and amusement warred briefly across his features before his lips curled upwards into a crooked smile.

“Does it also wear a tiny sweater and sing sad songs in the shower?” Your eyes crinkled up at him.

“How did you know?”

“Because it’s ours.” Your heart thudded disproportionately to his simple words.

“So…” you trailed off feeling vulnerable again, averting your gaze, still bemused by this unfamiliar territory you both treaded.

He sighed, already seeing the mental gymnastics happening in your mind that was working double time. He gently grabbed your chin between his forefinger and thumb, forcing you to look at him.

“Yes, I’m staying the night. No, I don’t want this to be a one time thing. Yes, that means I want to date you. No, I don’t care who knows, including our squad and probably the mailman too while we’re at it. Anything else?”

You blinked a few times, processing the tidal wave of information just thrown at you.

“Well damn, why didn’t you just say that earlier?” you asked in feigned disbelief. He laughed and rolled his eyes.

“I might’ve, if I thought you were capable of emoting in a normal way.” Fair point.

“Touché.” You were self-aware, if nothing else.

“Now that we’ve cleared that up,” he propped himself on his elbow and looked down at you with a wolfish grin, absentmindedly drawing patterns on your soft belly. “Do you want to go for another round or did I wear you out?”

You arched into him, spreading your legs wide as his hand delicately trailed south. Delight and anticipation caught in your throat as you beamed up at him.

“Sheets are already ruined, might as well put them to good use.”  

You could sleep when you met Malek.

@justmymindandstuff @booksobsess @alitaar @amatiswayland

Part 4 Coming Soon!

[honeybuckin10]

Part 3 of Ridoc fic dropping tomorrow, time to get caught up if you haven't already 🫶

Masterlist

Hello and welcome to my page! I am a lawyer by day and fic writer by night. This is a side blog to my F1 page (sbdskate) for other interests. Currently hyperfixated on Fourth Wing, but open to expanding my horizons. While I've been on the platform for a while, I only started contributing my own content recently. This is all still new to me, so please feel free to drop feedback via comments, asks, or DMs. Or use them just to say hi :) Thanks and enjoy!

Fourth Wing

Ridoc Gamlyn

Cut From The Same Cloth (18+) - Part 1 + Part 2 + Part 3 Coming Soon + Part 4 Coming Soon (Ridoc x fem!bi!cadet miniseries): Everyone at Basgiath knows you and Ridoc are basically the same person: charming, chaotic, and completely incapable of keeping your hands — or your flirting — to yourselves. But the rules you made to protect your friendship start to look more like excuses to avoid the truth. Competition, sexual tension, and dick jokes ensue.

MHA

Hawks

Code Blue (Hawks x fem!lawyer!reader one shot): Pre-Meta Liberation Army Arc. A hero’s birthday party on a night off blurs the lines of professionalism between the Commission’s rising junior prosecutor and a certain winged hero.

Hospital Beds (Hawks x fem!doctor!reader one shot): Hawks heals more than his wings after the Paranormal Liberation War attacks.

[honeybuckin10]

Cut From The Same Cloth - Part 2 (fem!bi!reader)

summary: Everyone at Basgiath knows you and Ridoc are basically the same person: charming, chaotic, and completely incapable of keeping your hands — or your flirting — to yourselves. But the rules you made to protect your friendship start to look more like excuses to avoid the truth. Tropes Ensue [w/c: 1.5k]

🖤 Best friends to idiots to maybe lovers 🔥 Banter and slow burn and sexual tension 😏 One bed (eventually), one deal (broken), one mistake (falling for him)

warnings: language, alcohol consumption, making out, heavy petting?, angst?, fluff

a/n: hello! sorry for the break, i thought i was further along with this than i thought but then i got a little carried away so now this is a three part miniseries :) i love feedback whether it's positive or constructive, so please don't be a ghost reader! please and thank you <3

Get caught up on Part 1 here

“Well? Are you ready to go back or do I need to carry you?”

You blinked a few times. Did you miss being a transported to a parallel universe at some point inside the tavern? This was the first time you two had been alone since the sparring incident, he was holding your hand, and somehow he was acting like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

You nodded after a few moments, still visibly confused. He tilted his head, chalking up your slow reaction to booze.

“Yes, you’re ready to go or yes you need to be carried? You know what, that’s on me. Obviously it’s both.” Your fingers detangled and you immediately missed his touch. But he was quick to lower himself to offer you his back which you gladly accepted.

The trip back to Basgaith was quiet. You relished Ridoc’s grip around your thighs while you lolled your head on his shoulder, your arms wrapped around his neck. You were acutely aware of the shift of his muscles under you as he walked, the methodic sway made your eyelids heavy. 

You teetered in and out of consciousness, your dreams giving way to old memories. The times you caught him the morning after a conquest in an obnoxiously good mood. At one point you offered smiles and high fives, but eventually even your subsequent indifference was squashed by jealousy you masked as annoyance. The times he caught you in the same clothes from the night before and racoon eyes, playfully wiggling his brows and questioning in so many words whether your needs were met. “Did you have a good time?” “Do you feel fulfilled?” Most of the time the answer to the former was yes… The latter? Not so much. Though you never actually dignified him with a response beyond an eye roll or a dismissive tease. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” The bedhopping started as a way to merely scratch an itch. But as time went on you secretly hoped it made him claw at himself from the inside, the same way you felt when the tables were turned.

“Alright hot stuff, we’ve arrived,” your eyes fluttered open at his voice. “If you enjoyed your trip, please leave a five star review.”

“Mmm,” you looked around the hallway outside your room, reacquainting yourself with your surroundings.

“You awake back there?” He gave your legs a squeeze. You were now. You tried to memorize the way his fingers dipped into the back of your thighs before he let you down.

“Yeah,” you said with a yawn. He slowly lowered you onto wobbly legs. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Yeah, no problem.” You pushed back the quiet disappointment that he didn’t offer you a different type of ride in response. He looked so good. Your jaw ticked as he casually ran a hand through his perfectly messy hair. “Well this was fun.”

“Why’dyouholdmyhand?” You asked quickly before you could lose your nerve or sober up. His eyebrows shot up momentarily, but otherwise he seemed unphased. He shrugged as he played with his pockets.

“It looked heavy, so I thought I could hold it for you.” He bit his lower lip, trying but failing to hide his own amusement. Dull heat began to rise in your body, but you crossed your arms to hide your fluster.

“You’re not using pick up lines on me now, are you now Gamlyn?”

“Of course not,” he faux scoffed, a hint of a smile dancing on his lips. “We’re friends. Squad mates. Remember?” His eyes bore into yours with an intensity that didn’t match his teasing voice. You couldn’t tell if it was playful or accusatory. 

“Right. Friends. It would be entirely inappropriate.”

“So inappropriate.” Had he been standing this close to you the whole time? He gave a small laugh. “Besides, I think we’d kill each other if we ever tried.”

“Definitely mutually assured destruction,” you agreed sarcastically, fighting your own smile. “The only way this ends –“

“-is with me in a body bag and you pregnant, on the run,” he laughed as he finished your sentence. You gave him a light shove.

“This is serious,” you insisted, though your words fell flat through your own fits of giggles.

“Never said it wasn’t,” his said as his laughter slowed, but his smile never faltered. “Well I don’t know about you, but I feel a lot better now that we’ve cleared all this up.” You rolled your eyes as you tried to ignore the boyish charm of the man in front of you. You dramatically placed your hand over your chest.

“Oh yes, what a weight that has been lifted.” Your words dripped with sarcasm to mask the actual daggers in your heart in the reality of the exchange. Thank gods you were a good actress, if nothing else. It was funny how the universe toyed with you. The small annoying weed that started as relationship of proximity and convenience planted its roots deep and flourished into an uncontrollable, wildly blossoming forest that covered every part of you. He was gravity itself and you were the moon pulled into his orbit. You were down bad and there was no future in which you ever got back up.

You faked a yawn to put an end to whatever sick twisted torture this was. “As much fun as this has been, I’m gonna go to bed now.” It wasn’t phrased as a question, but you couldn’t hide your tone that subconsciously sought his permission.

“That probably makes sense, it’s like two in the morning.” You gave him a small smile.

“Right. Well.” No more stalling. “Good night, Gamlyn.”

In one moment you were turning to open the door to your room, in the next you were being dragged by your forearm and his lips crashed into yours in a fiery kiss that enveloped every part of you. He pulled you impossibly close, as though afraid you’d float away. Your shock was short lived, and you meet his lips with equal force. You gladly granted him entrance when you felt his tongue press against your lips. They danced in unison, setting an erratic pace for roaming, desperate hands eager to reacquaint themselves with forgotten lands. There were too many places to explore to stay in one spot for long. Arms. Back. Waist. Ribs. Shoulders. Neck. His had lowered to the small of your back when he suddenly pulled away, leaving you panting. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were so earnest it nearly broke you. Your stomach dropped.

No, no, no it wasn’t supposed to go like this. You can’t lose him.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have –“ Oh, he thought he did something wrong? Your pupils dilated and you cut him off before he could spew any more nonsense.

“Like hell you should’ve,” you murmured as you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and greedily pulled him back to your mouth.

The force of impact caused you to stumble backwards, your body hitting the door behind you with a light thud. His initial disbelief dissipated in an instant, your teeth clashing briefly in the messy display when you felt him smile into the kiss. He cupped your face between his hands, which would’ve been a sweet gesture if it wasn’t accompanied by the sinful feeling of being sandwiched between his pelvis and the door. You writhed against him, desperate for more pressure and friction, eliciting a happy hum from the rider. He obliged, sliding his knee between your legs where his thigh provided some relief as you shamelessly rolled yourself against it. His mouth absorbed a soft moan that left your lips, and he used the opportunity to slip his tongue in with ease. His hands glided down your face to your neck, a thumb firmly tilting your chin upwards to get a better angle. All the while your right hand blindly palmed the door, your left still busy playing with his hair, realizing things were escalating quite quickly. You both toppled into your room when you finally found the doorknob.

Giggles filled the air as he caught your arm mid-tumble, breaking your fall. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his chest as you laid on the cool hard floor. With your torsos glued together, you could feel the quickened rise and fall of his chest with yours. You perched your chin atop your hands on his chest and he lifted his head to meet your gaze. His eyes only strayed from yours to watch his fingers run through your hair, astutely observing the way each strand fell perfectly back into place. 

“Are you sure?” he whispered. He was trying so hard to be respectful, which you certainly appreciated. But like a kid on his birthday waiting to open presents, he did a horrible job of hiding his eagerness.

“For the love of all that is good and holy,” Without breaking eye contact, you used lesser magic to shut the door behind you and lock it. “Don’t make me change my mind, Gamlyn.”

Taglist: @justmymindandstuff @booksobsess @aamatis-blog1p

Part 3

[honeybuckin10]

WIP Wednesday

Maybe he wanted you to go down on him? You began to crawl your way over to him, stopping when you got to his pants, your hand smoothed over the obvious bulge but he grabbed your wrist. Your brows furrowed in annoyance.

“This hardly seems fair,” you stated.

“On the contrary,” he said with a mischievous grin that caused butterflies in your stomach to take flight.

“I’m going to put my clothes back on if you don’t cut it out.” The hand wrapped around your wrist yanked forward. You yelped as you fell onto him.

“I promise you don’t want to do that.” You felt his breath tickle your ear, his mouth ghosting your skin. It sent a shiver down your spine. You turned your head to look at him.

“Care to share before I wipe that smirk off your face?” You were all bark and no bite, unless he was into that sort of thing. The smirk turned into a toothy grin, clearly pleased with himself.

“Now you’re getting the idea.”

- Cut From The Same Cloth (Part 2) - Coming Soon!

Part 1 here

[honeybuckin10]

You can't tell me this wouldn't be Ridoc in a relationship

[honeybuckin10]

[honeybuckin10]

Cut From The Same Cloth - Part 1 (Ridoc x fem!bi!reader)

summary: Everyone at Basgiath knows you and Ridoc are basically the same person: charming, chaotic, and completely incapable of keeping your hands — or your flirting — to yourselves. But the rules you made to protect your friendship start to look more like excuses to avoid the truth. Tropes Ensue [w/c: 3.7k]

🖤 Best friends to idiots to maybe lovers 💫 Banter and slow burn and sexual tension 😏 One bed (eventually), one deal (broken), one mistake (falling for him)

warnings: smut (18+), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), language, alcohol consumption, angst, fluff

a/n: hello! this is my first time writing for ridoc/fourth wing. i just got caught up on the series and needed more of this cutie patootie. it ended up being longer than i thought so i decided to break it up into two parts (this will not be a long form series). i love feedback whether it's positive or constructive, so please don't be a ghost reader! please and thank you <3

Insufferable, unpredictable, and filthy were frequent adjectives used for the two of you. Your signets were polar opposites, but you and Ridoc shared the distinct quality of being shameless flirts. As squad mates who shared the same schedule, it didn’t take long to realize you had the same taste in men and women, which frequently led to friendly competition. A typical night out consisted of one of you spotting a new target which would inevitably turn into a race to see who could end up in their bed. Even when you declared victory, sure enough he’d try to turn the evening into a group project. Not that you would mind having a third. And it’s not that you didn’t often think of the many possible uses of Ridoc’s various extremities – but you would cut your nose to spite your face before you would give him the satisfaction. Plus, it would be a violation of the rules you put in place after Day One.

Once upon a time on Conscription Day, in what can only be described as a fit of adrenaline and severe lapse in judgement, you found yourself in the cadet’s bed. “Bed” is a generous term – it was actually a supply closet. Admittedly, it hadn’t taken much. It started while in line to cross the parapet, when the chatty boy in front of you simply would not shut up as you did your best to keep your nerves and mental fortitude in check. Initially you thought it was some kind of weird power play or mind games, but as time passed you realized he was genuine which was somehow more concerning. He continued to make wise cracks even after you all witnessed several more people fall to their deaths, and you concluded he was clinically insane. But his humorous distractions did actually calm you. It was a shame – you liked him, but his chances of making it were slim to none considering how little he seemed to take this seriously.

“See you on the other side, hot stuff.” You were sure the wink he gave you before disappearing into the rainy fog would be the last time you saw him, so you said your mental goodbyes. But after praising Malek and Zihnale and every other God for your own survival when you reached the other side, you were pleasantly surprised to see the recognizable mop of curly brown hair as you skimmed the bodies of the crowd of your new classmates.

What happened next is still a blur to you, but what better way to celebrate being alive than to cave into your most carnal desires? He turned and locked eyes with you, gave you a dazzling smile that turned into a smirk, exchanged some words, snuck down a hallway, took right and a left and another left, found an unlocked door. Before you knew it your back was pressed against a wall with your pants discarded somewhere, his pooled around his ankles, and the dark haired jester between your legs pummeling himself into you as you held onto him for dear life doing your best to stifle the moans that threatened to spill from your mouth.

“I’m Ridoc, by the way,” he huffed between thrusts. “So you know what name to scream when I make you cum.” The statement was punctuated by him roughly squeezing your ass cheeks.

If he wasn’t making you see stars you would’ve rolled your eyes. You didn’t miss the smug grin he gave you before burying his face into your neck. You were too far gone to think of a coherent, let alone witty, comeback.

“Y/n – oh, fuck!” You bit his shoulder as his hips shifted, hitting a new angle that made you unravel.

“Y/n, a pretty name for a pretty pussy –“ you pressed a finger over his mouth.

“Shhhhh, seats aren’t supposed to talk,” you whispered. The way the fucker’s face lit up before he had the nerve to take said finger in his mouth and suck on it…

In the blink of an eye, your feet were on the ground, your face and hands were pressed into the wall after he flipped you around. He briefly got on his knees to lick the apex between your things before standing again to line himself with your entrance. Your surprised yelps quickly turned into moans that he muffled with the palm of his hand, while his other wrapped around your waist and moved south until he found your clit.

Other than the fact you could barely walk straight and he likely left a hand shaped welt on your ass, you didn’t think much of the rendezvous. It was just a way to let off some steam. That is, until the very awkward moment when names for squads, sections, and wings were called out and you realized you would be seeing way more of each other than you thought. While you were visibly mortified, Ridoc was downright giddy when your name was called after his. One of you had to be the adult in the situation, and it clearly wasn’t going to be him. So after your first dinner as a group you pulled him aside to have a stern talk, in which you agreed that what happened earlier was a one time thing and that going forward your relationship would remain strictly platonic for the good of the squad.

Despite the verbal agreement, you two were cut from the same cloth. Much to the chagrin of those around you, you still teased and flirted and bickered with each other to no end.

There was the one time he tried to grow a mustache and you nearly choked on your breakfast.

“Ok, I’ll bite. What’s with the caterpillar on your face?” Rhiannon gave you a light shove as you struggled to keep a straight face.

“Don’t tease him, I think it’s brave that he’s trying something different,” she said, trying to keep the peace. Ridoc gave a mischievous grin and you braced yourself for what you knew was going to be a wildly inappropriate comment.  

“Oh, I thought you might want something to hold on to for later.” Rhiannon mimicked a vomiting sound, while the rest of the table let out a collective groan.

You laughed and threw a napkin at him. “Thanks, but I prefer a clean surface to sit on.”

Violet pushed around the remaining food on her plate before dropping her fork. “I think I just lost my appetite.”  

“You guys are disgusting,” Sawyer muttered under his breath, looking away as Ridoc pretended to wipe his face with the napkin.

There was the other time you two wouldn’t stop giggling during class because you found a way to turn every word that came out of Professor Grady’s mouth into a that’s-what-she-said joke. And the time you sat by the window in your room during a storm taking bets on the number of lightning strikes when you knew Violet and Xaden were getting frisky. Then there were the ongoing prank wars, which only got worse when your signets manifested. It was one thing to move a chair when you were about to sit down, or adding an abhorrent amount of hot sauce to his food when he wasn’t looking. It was quite another to freeze the door to your room shut after you got back from the showers leaving you in the hall in a towel. Or to cause him to burn his mouth on the suddenly boiling glass of water he was drinking.

But perhaps most concerning were other times when the teasing would stop. Like the times after training where you would feel his eyes rake over your body in a way that made you feel nervous and shy. Or worse, the time you sparred each other and the world around you seemed to disappear.

Time was a flat circle. You weren’t sure how long you were on the mat with Ridoc but your bodies were slick with the sheen of perspiration and your breathing began to labor. You were over half way through the year, you’d won against others but for some reason you’d yet to win a round against him. And now, he had you on your stomach with your hands behind your back. His hot breath tickled the shell of your ear.

“This feels familiar.”

“Shut up, Gamlyn.”

“Do you yield?”

“Fuck you,” you choked out, your cheek pressed to the floor. The reverberations of is chuckle vibrated up your spine.

“I’m starting to think you’re letting me win.” You felt heat rise to your already flushed cheeks.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Are you sure? Because I think you like it when I put you in these positions.” You gasped when you felt his hips press into you, and it took everything in your power not to arch your back to meet him. You thanked the Gods that he couldn’t see your face, which would have given you away immediately. Your eyes squeezed shut with the goal to take you out of your current predicament, but it only made matters worse transporting you back to the supply closet after parapet. If only he would just grab your hair and move his hand…

Wait. You’re on a mat. Sparring. In front of your peers.  

“Shut up, Gamlyn!” With every ounce of energy you had left, you rotated your hip back as hard as you could while hooking your calf around his. It wasn’t pretty or orthodox, but somehow you ended up straddling him with your forearm against his neck pressing down on his airway. You dared to make eye contact, and found his twinkling chocolate orbs dancing with excitement. The corners of his mouth tugged upwards despite the limited flow of oxygen. You knew in an instant what he'd done and hated the next words that left his mouth.

“I yield.”

Your nostrils flared. You got your win. You should’ve been happy. But the taste of failure lingered in your mouth because you knew the victory wasn’t real. You wondered if the others could see through the facade. You got up and left as quickly as you could before anyone could offer their congratulations.

After what you determined to be an appropriate amount of time brooding in self isolation, you ventured from your room to shower off the remaining shame from earlier. Only to be stopped in your tracks by the sight of a shirtless Ridoc in nothing but a towel hanging from his hips, water droplets falling from the ringlets beginning to form in his damp hair. Neither of you moved for a few moments. This felt like a test.

Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down.

But you couldn’t help yourself, and your eyes darted ever so briefly to his bare tanned, toned chest, down to the happy trail that routed down his perfectly sculpted abs and playfully disappeared beyond the towel. It was a millisecond. Maybe he won’t notice, you stupidly thought. But of course he used your moment of weakness to clear his throat.

“My eyes are up here,” he finally said with an arrogant smirk.

“Fuck you, Gamlyn.” He took a step forward, blocking your path.

“You know, you keep saying that and not following through. It’s quite disappointing.” You rolled your eyes.

“It’s not funny, Ridoc. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to go shower.” He took another step forward, blocking your path again. You gritted your teeth, his chest now in your face. “Can I help you?”

“Weird, I was going to ask you the same thing,” he said with far too much enthusiasm. You looked up at him, at least one of you was enjoying this little interaction.

“I’m really not in the mood.”

“I’m not moving until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you grumbled as you attempted another side step without success.

“Really? Because I’ve never seen you move that fast in my life, and that’s including the time you practically sprinted to the great hall because you found out they were serving rum cake.”

“I wasn’t feeling well,” you said under your breath.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Now if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were deflecting –“

“You shouldn’t have let me win!” you finally blurted. “You heard Emetterio, it does us both a disservice.” He stood there a moment, and could tell he was trying to choose his next words very carefully.

“How do you think I’ve felt every time we’ve sparred?” You blinked a few times.

“What?”

“You’ve gotten so much better since the beginning of the year. I think the first month or so the losses were in earnest. But I’ve seen you fight against Rhiannon, Sawyer, Violet, Jack, and even some of the second and third years. You are better than me, that’s not an opinion. I know you could win if you wanted to. But I can feel you holding back when it’s us, so what gives?”

Oh.

“I…I…” you suddenly remembered your friend was still almost naked in front of you, making it very hard to concentrate. And very close. So close that you could smell him - like the air after it rains. Fresh and minerally, with hints of moss and pine.

You looked up to meet expectant eyes, devoid of humor. Oh, you were so screwed.

“It’s ok, you can tell me,” he said so softly your knees nearly buckled. Your gaze followed in slow motion as his hand moved to cradle your face. You tried to ignore how nice the chill of his fingers felt against your flaming cheek. This new serious Ridoc was scarier than any dragon or gryphon. For an ice wielder, he had the uncanny ability to make you melt. Your heart felt ready to beat its way out of your chest. You tried to talk again, but your mouth was dry from hanging open for however long you’d been a stammering mess.

“I don’t know,” you said slowly. It wasn’t entirely a lie, just willful ignorance to your own growing feelings. Ridoc’s brow furrowed in disappointment and the pang of guilt in the pit of your stomach was immediate. “I guess you just catch me when I’m tired.” Lie. “But it’s not on purpose, I swear.” Not a lie. “I won’t hold back next time, promise.” Hopefully not a lie.

His silence was deafening as a wave of guilt-induced nausea crashed over you. You stepped aside again, and this time he made no effort to move. “Let’s just consider us even for now,” you said in defeat as you passed him.

“Yeah, I guess we’re even.”

Things mostly went back to normal after that, or so you told yourself. You tried to ignore the fact that he rarely sat next to you anymore during class or meals. He was still there, just a little further away. You didn’t lose anything so there was nothing to miss. Besides it was for the good of the group, right?

Then there were times like these, where you were in the same tavern, drinking the same liquor, and hitting on the same people when things would turn particularly contentious. Neither of you seemed to have much luck on your rare night out in Chantara. You’d both struck out on the rugged infantry cadet with auburn hair and a five o’clock shadow. There was the pretty blond healer, but she apparently had a boyfriend who proceeded to spend the rest of the night throwing metaphorical daggers at the two of you.   

You squeezed yourself next to a cute red head at the bar while pretending to wait for the bartender’s attention. You gave the girl a once over before gently grazing her shoulder.

“Oh my gods, I’m sorry but you look so familiar. Do I know you?” She turned to look at you, brow raised.

“Excuse me?” You feigned deep thought, tapping your finger against your cheek before landing with the punchline.

“I know what it is,” you rested your arm on the bar, cradling your head in your hand. Nonchalance was never your strong suit, but you did your best. “I think I’ve seen you in my dreams.” Sure enough, you were rewarded with a giggle and a light swat at your hand.

“So what’s your success rate with that line?” she teased.

 “You tell me,” You leaned into the bit, flashing an innocent smile. “It’s either 100 or 0 depending on your answer.” You both laughed, even when she rolled her eyes in fake annoyance. “So what’s your name?”

“Yevette,” she leaned in and cupped her hand around your ear to be heard over the din of the tavern. You felt familiar eyes on you, but you ignored the hastened drumming in your chest. You played with a ringlet of Yvette’s hair as you leaned close to her.

“What are you drinking, Yevette?”

“Gin and tonic.” You smiled before leaning over the bar, making sure it pressed against your breasts for maximum cleavage as you tried to flag down the bartender for real this time. She leaned into you again, placing her hand on the small of your back. “I never got your name.”

“Oh, how rude of me! I’m –“ the bartender was suddenly in front of you but placed a drink down. You looked at him visibly confused. “Sorry, we didn’t order this?”

“I know, it’s for her. Curtesy of the guy down there.”

You stared down the bar to find the culprit, trying to hide your frustration at the cock block. Sure enough, a smug Ridoc raised his glass to you before taking a sip. You were going to kill him. Just not here. But definitely later. You shot him the most loathsome glare you could muster before turning around, but Yvette and her drink were nowhere to be found. You gave the bartender an exasperated look, but he just shrugged.

“Sorry, kid. Better luck next time. You still gonna order something?” You sighed.

“Scotch. Neat. Please.”

You sulked over your drink, until someone practically shoved you to the side as they tried to squeeze into a spot at the bar where they clearly didn’t fit. You were ready to give them a left hook until you recognized the perpetrator who still seemed far too pleased with himself. You may not be willing to punch him, but you still smacked his arm with enough force that would leave a mark

“So hot stuff, where’s your new frie – ow!”

“Saboteur!” He massaged his arm, but the smirk on his face didn’t slip.

“Hey, if she could be swayed by a free drink from just anyone it was never going to work out so actually, I think I did you a favor.”

“Don’t talk about Yvette like that, we really had something going,” you pouted. “Besides, since when do you care about the people I go home with?” You gave him a double take. “Actually, I’m surprised she’s not with you.” Ridoc took a sip of his drink, keeping his eyes forward.

“Eh, not my type.” You narrowed your eyes at him, ignoring the fact that he dodged your first question.

“Well I know that’s not right because (a) that girl was everyone’s type, and (b) you and I always go after the same people.”

“If I’m being honest,” he leaned into you, and you found yourself holding your breath as you focused on particular stain on the bar. “apparently I tried the same pick up line you pulled on her. She, uh, didn’t seem to like that very much.” You slowly turned to look at each other before you both snorted and dissolved into belly aching laughter.

“Gods, we must be out of practice,” you finally said as you caught your breath.

“Or everyone else has bad taste,” Ridoc countered. For some reason heat pulsed through your body at his comment. You hoped the dim lights in the tavern masked whatever shade of red you were turning.

“Well, A for effort I guess. Cheers.” Your glasses clinked, but by the time you put them down on the bar you couldn’t remember what was so funny. He was so close. You mentally noted to thank Imogen for whatever extra hours she was putting in training Ridoc, because you could feel the ripple of every muscle of his arm against yours…  

Another person shoved their way to the bar on the other side of Ridoc. Unlike you, he did not try to start a bar fight and instead shimmied out of the way to make room, ending up behind you. You turned to face him as he leaned forward to check in.

“You ok?” he half yelled.

“Yeah I’m good.”

But you spoke too soon. It only seemed to get more packed as people pushed their way to the front to get their next rounds. The wave of bodies had a domino effect as the person behind Ridoc bumped into him which caused him to bump into you. Your eyes widened as you felt his body press against yours. Moss and pine filled your nostrils as you tried to maintain your composure despite the fact that you could feel every contour, from the contents of his pants to his firm pecs that squished the soft of your chest. You were on fire again but his body cooled yours as the chaos around you continued.

“Uh, are you done or are you getting another round?” Part of you was grateful for his normalcy, but also slightly offended that he was so unphased by your predicament. You looked over your shoulder at your empty glass, anywhere but his eyes.

“I think I’m good. I just got really tired and I don’t think I’m drunk enough to handle… whatever this is,” you said as you looked around the wall of bodies.

“Good, me too. Let’s go.” Without another word he grabbed your hand, which was somehow more shocking than the full frontal contact you just shared, and led you through the increasingly sloppy crowd until you were outside. You’d lost track of Violet, Rhi, and Sawyer but they were adults, you were sure they could handle themselves. The cool night air was sobering. You took a few deep breaths before you realized you and Ridoc were still holding hands.

Your gaze trailed from your intertwined fingers up his arm, until you found him staring at you. Your armor of liquor slipped and you suddenly felt very self-conscious under his watch. He squeezed your hand to bring you back to earth.

“Well? Are you ready to go back or do I need to carry you?”

-

Read Part 2 here

[honeybuckin10]

hi I know i'm years late to this but I just got into the empyrean series and found out there's not enough ridoc fanfics so i'm gonna try and fix that

[honeybuckin10]

i’m obsessed with the mum from ponyo. driving single lane on a cliff edge? drift those turns in your nissan cube. husband has to work an extra shift? tell him to fuck off in morse code. pet fish turned into a child on your driveway? adopt her. town drowned in a tsunami? leave your 5 year old in charge, he’s the man of the house now

[honeybuckin10]

Hospital Beds - a Hawks x fem!doctor!reader One Shot

Summary: Hawks heals more than his wings after the Paranormal Liberation War attacks [wc: 4.6k].  

Warnings: mentions of mental health struggles, mentions of character death, descriptions of wounds, swearing, angst, fluff, comfort, potentially unpopular Hawks opinions. characters slightly aged up.

a/n: started writing thinking this was gonna be cute and flirty, ended up taking a kind of serious turn (still otherwise cute and flirty with happy-ish ending). might do a spicier part 2 at some point. as always, don’t be a ghost reader pls and ty <3

Hawks’ eyes were focused on the window, lost in thought. There was a crowd gathered outside Central Hospital. From the muffled voices through the glass, it didn’t sound like they were there for support. He felt the span of his back against the hospital bed, a sensation both foreign and grounding. The space where his wings once were stung slightly at the contact, despite the heavy nerve blockers he assumed were administered earlier.

“Back again so soon?”

You broke him from his trance as you shut the door behind you. Your eyes immediately scanned his monitors, a pleasant smile never leaving your face.

“At some point, we really do have to get your heart rate checked out.”

He didn’t actually have a high heart rate. But the machines he was hooked up to always went crazy whenever he got sight of you. He was too embarrassed to say anything, though he wondered if you noticed why his charts never reflected any underlying conditions when his vitals were checked by others.

“You’re not a very good patient, you know. Though now that you can’t talk, perhaps you’ll actually listen.”

He tried to respond, but quickly remembered he couldn’t open his jaw, not very much at least. No sound came out of the small gap between his lips.

You had treated Hawks on several occasions now, usually after incidents involving fire. Most were minor. He’d come in and joke that he’d done it on purpose to see you. You’d roll your eyes, every now and then you’d even dignify him with an actual response: ‘nice try’. But his injuries now were unlike anything you’d ever seen. You knew it was bad when he didn’t try flirting with you. Then again, it’s not like he could even if he wanted to.

Your tone was light and breezy, but the furrow in your brow betrayed your façade.

“I’m only joking, of course. But in all seriousness, your trachea was severely damaged from the smoke inhalation during the attack. Fortunately you narrowly avoided respiratory failure, but you won’t be able to use your voice for a couple of weeks. Lucky for you, technology has advanced enough that you won’t have to carry around a notepad everywhere you go. We recommend using the voice app on your phone.”

You handed him his cell phone, when Hawks noticed a plastic bag of personal items behind you with unknown origins. You followed his eyes to see what was distracting him.

“Oh yes, a young man named Tokoyami brought you a change of clothes and some other things you may need while you were out. Said he was your mentee.” You paused, searching for some kind of reaction. You thought it might brighten his spirits. His eyes widened somewhat, but there was still no smile. “It’s clear you’ve had a big impact on him.”

Tokoyami. His mentee. A child. More memories of the battlefield came flooding back. Twice. Dabi. He knew you hoped that bringing up his pupil would put him at ease. But Hawks was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt that he had put the student is such a dangerous situation.

“I also spoke with Dermatology. They informed me that sixteen percent of your body is covered with third degree burns, another twenty percent second degree, and twenty-two percent first degree. Given the severity and location of the burns, you’re also at risk of developing contractures that could compress your airways in the future so we’ll need to keep a close eye on that. Once your wraps come off, they’ve prescribed you a topical treatment that you’re to use three times a day until everything is healed. You’ll also be started on an oral antibiotic immediately, which you’re to take for three weeks.”

He attempted to use his new voice.

“What about wings?” You took a deep breath. Not good.

“I’m getting to that. I’m going to adjust your bed a little first. Are you able to lean forward?” He nodded as the bed rose up and the angle of his back moved more upright. He winced, unable to hide his discomfort but did as you instructed.

“I’m sorry, I know this is painful for you. I’m going as quickly as I can.” You talked through how you were examining his dressings, that his biggest risk at the moment was that the wounds would get infected, and that the dressings would need to be changed again before the end of the day.

“I think they will grow back. But it will be painful and it will be slow. You must be patient during this time and you’ll have to stay out of the field for a while. I’d recommend taking a well-deserved break until they’re fully healed.”

Bedrest sounded like Hawks’ personal hell. He only nodded his head. He didn’t have the energy to protest.

“You’ll also need to go through a psychiatric evaluation before rejoining field.”

Hawks let out a muffled groan. You let out an exasperated laugh.

“Really, you didn’t make a peep when I was examining your open wounds but you draw the line at psych eval?” You watched as he typed out his next thought.

“Waste of time.” Your eyes softened.

“First of all, this is standard procedure. Endeavor, Mirko, Eraserhead, all those UA students are going to have to get one too. Second, even if it wasn’t, what you – what you’ve all gone through would cause even the strongest soldier some kind of stress. We want to make sure that you’re all in the right headspace so that you’re the most prepared you can be going against whatever this enemy is. You have to take care of yourself first before you can take care of others.”

Hawks sat there a moment in silence, absorbing your words. Wondering whether you would be so sympathetic and kind if you knew the truth. He began typing.

“I killed someone,” the unnatural voice said. It came from him, but it didn’t feel like him. It echoed against the walls of the sterile room, void of emotion.

You pulled a chair next to his bed so that you were slightly below his eye level.

“I heard. That must be a lot to carry.”

“You hate me.”

“I don’t.”

“I’m a bad person.”

“You’re not.” You paused, choosing your next words carefully for the fragile hero. “I don’t know what your world is like. I wasn’t there so I don’t know exactly what happened. But I do know that we are both in the business of saving lives, albeit in different ways. My guess is you made a split second decision on what was in the mission’s best interest to save the lives of your colleagues and ultimately the lives of civilians. Nobody has a crystal ball to know whether that was the best or right choice. But it was a life or death situation, and you did the best you could in the moment. It’s natural to feel remorse and guilt, but you can’t let it debilitate you for the rest of your life either.”

What right did you have to comment on such things?

“You’ve never killed someone,” he countered.

“I have. In my OR. There are some people that can’t be saved, no matter how hard you try.”

“I think he was a good person,” he typed, wondering if that negated everything you just said.

“Good people do bad things all the time. It doesn’t make them bad people.” He sighed, swallowing the searing pain as harsh air passed through his lungs. You watched closely as the hero studied his bandaged hands, refusing to make eye contact. “For now, the best thing you can do for yourself and Japan is rest. We need you.”

He sat with your words. It didn’t dawn on him until long after you left the room that you weren’t just talking about Twice.

-

As you warned, the days passed at a glacial pace. He didn’t enjoy how quickly he acclimated to talking through his phone. He had growing pains from the nubs of his wings that began to poke through his skin. Each day brought a revolving door of doctors and healers and other specialists, by whom he was constantly poked and prodded and observed. Hawks hated every minute of it. Almost every minute.

You came in daily to monitor the progress of his wings. It was the most painful part of his recovery. But you entered his room with a smile and sunny disposition, like you weren’t about to inflict torture on him for thirty minutes. The air hurt his exposed back when you removed the old bandages. It stung when you applied antiseptic to cleanse the area. It felt like he was going to pass out when you ran your gloved fingers along the growth that was coming in. He felt all the more pathetic laying on his stomach as you did your work.

But you did your best to distract him with bad jokes and hospital gossip. Not that you had to put in that much effort. Your presence was distracting enough.

On the fourth day after the battle, you finally got a chuckle out him. What’s black and white and black and white and black and white? He shrugged as you applied ointment. A penguin falling down the stairs. You quickly realized that your methods may have been faulty as his laugh devolved into a coughing fit, his lungs still weak.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Try to remember your box breathing.”

He held his breath at the top of his inhale. Four, three, two, one. Exhale. Four, three, two, one. He repeated this for a minute before his breath finally returned to normal. He gave a thumbs up. I’m ok.

Relief washed over your face. “I’m sorry I made you choke on air. But glad to see you in better spirits today.” He began typing.

“I’m always in good spirits when you’re around.” You bit back a smile no one could see as you started redressing the incoming wings.

“Ah, there he is. Yeah, you’re definitely starting to feel better.”

“Can’t you tell? I’m the pinnacle of health.” The gallows humor was hard to miss despite the monotone robotic voice, the statement in stark contrast to his fully bandaged and hospitalized body.

“You will be, soon enough.” You finished applying new bandages. “That’s it for me today, unless there’s anything else you want to share.”

“Capricorn. 27. Single –“

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” You pulled off your disposable gloves, turning to hide the blush creeping up your neck. “I already knew that from your chart. Nice try,” you teased.

“Didn’t know you were stalking me.”

“Goodbye Hawks, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You knew your faux sternness was hardly believable, as you caught him wink before you closed the door.

-

Two days later you bumped into Hawks and Best Jeanist in the hallway. You broke into a wide grin when you noticed the two heroes, pleasantly surprised to see just how much progress your patient had made in such a short time.  

“Good morning gentlemen.”

“Good morning Dr. y/l/n,” Best Jeanist said with a small bow. Hawks was visibly confused about his formality.

“Please, there’s no need for that. It’s just good to see you back in the land of the living.” Best Jeanist helped fill in the gaps for his perplexed cohort.

“Hawks, Dr. y/l/n was part of the team who developed the drugs to put me in a temporary death-like state to convince Dabi that you’d killed me. We can thank her for setting us up for success to get you undercover.” Hawks knew he missed out on a lot during his covert mission, but had no idea how many parties were involved outside the ordinary network of hero agencies and the Commission. You blushed at the praise.

“It was nothing, really. You guys are the ones doing all the hard work.”

“Truly, we are in your debt,” Best Jeanist piled on. You weren’t used to so much flattery and you had a job to do so you tried to end the conversation.

“Anyways, I have to get to my next patient. Jeanist, keep an eye on your partner. It’s good for him to walk around a little bit but make sure he doesn’t overdo it.”

“I won’t let him out of my sight.” He gave another bow.

“I’m right here,” Hawks typed, unamused by the turn of the exchange.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, Hawks,” you yelled over your shoulder before disappearing down the next corridor.

The session later that day was nothing out of the ordinary. The nubs sprouting from his back had formed into tiny but well-defined wings and he was able to sit up during exams as opposed to lying face down on the hospital bed. All signs of positive progress.

He watched wistfully as you documented your observations, swaying his legs off the side of the bed like a child.

“They’re coming in quite nicely, I’m really happy with where you’re at.”

“Great what do I need to sign to get out of here?”

“Ahhh not so fast. You have to stay at least another two days and even once you’re discharged, you most certainly are not ready to return to active duty.” He pouted underneath his respirator mask.

“You’re no fun.”

“Sorry, just doing my job.” You proceeded to check his other vitals before heading out. First you took off his mask to check his lymph nodes, pressing your fingers firmly against the outer side of his jaw, moving down his neck. He was acutely aware of the lone thin layer of latex that separated you. He couldn’t stop the warmth that crept up his face, thankful that most of it was still covered. His flushed cheeks may have been under wraps, but he couldn’t hide his quickened pulse from you. You put on your stethoscope and instructed him to breathe deeply a few times, the cold metal circle moving from his upper back, to lower back, to his chest.  

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Your lungs are sounding better but your heart’s beating like crazy.”

He feigned surprise, which was much easier when he didn’t have to control his own voice. “Really? That’s odd, no one else’s said anything.”

You pulled up his chart again to check the inputs of all the other practitioners who’ve treated the hero since his arrival at Central Hospital. All values normal.

“On a scale from one to ten, how much pain are you in at this point?”

“Two or three.”

“Are you feeling nervous about anything?” He chewed his lower lip trying to think of a way to get out of this, knowing that if he said no you would run more tests which would be unnecessary and prolong his stay.

“Yes,” he lied. Kind of. He actually was a little nervous, though definitely not for the reason you likely thought. You brought your chair next to his bed again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” A loaded question.

“No.” The good thing about talking through his phone and the mask was that he could get away with saying less. Sympathetic people tended to not ask follow up questions.

“Okay. Well, you know I’m always here if you ever want to talk.” You spoke slowly, your reassuring voice laced with uncertainty. It was difficult to get a read on him when you couldn’t hear the tone of his voice or see his face. “Do you have any questions?” He nodded.

“Will you go on a date with me?” You almost choked on your own saliva. You blushed, but forced yourself to remain stoic.

“I’m very flattered, but there are strict protocols against physician-patient relationships.” Your stern message was undercut by your stammering, high pitched squeak.

“What if I promise to never get hurt again?” You tried not to smile, knowing it would only egg him on. You were failing.

“You shouldn’t be making promises you can’t keep.”

“What if I find a different doc?”

“You’ve gotten awfully good at talking through your phone,” you muttered under your breath.

“Can’t hear you.” Despite his mostly covered face, you could tell from the crinkle around his eyes that he was enjoying every moment of this interrogation.

“I-I’d have to take it up with the Board of Ethics.”

“That’s not a no.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Can I say one more thing?” You sighed, bracing yourself for whatever nonsense he was about to spew.

“I’d rather you didn’t but legally I think I have to say yes.” You watched as his thumbs frantically moved over the keyboard.

“Thank you for taking care of Best Jeanist. This operation wouldn’t’ve gotten so far without him or you.”

“Oh.” Your felt your heartbeat in your throat. “Again, just doing my job. Glad I could help.” You fiddled with some papers. “Let’s try this one more time. Do you have any other questions… about your health.”

Hawks shook his head, looking exceptionally pleased with himself. Despite the fact that you wanted to scold him for the bizarre interaction, you were reassured by his pleasant disposition, one you hadn’t seen since he arrived.

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

-

Tomorrow rolled around but you entered an empty sterile room, bed ready for a new patient. After a few seconds your confusion passed and you saw red.

You stormed down the hall in search for any hospital staff, until a poor resident had the unfortunate luck of being in your path.

“Where the hell is my patient?”

“I-I’m sorry?”

“Room 3409. Yesterday my patient was there and today the room is empty. He wasn’t ready to be discharged so where is he?”

“I-I-I don’t know ma’am, I’m sorry.”

“Dr. y/l/n, this is a hospital, not wrestlemania if you could keep it down please. And stop traumatizing the junior residents.” Hawks’ pulmonologist emerged from his office and tried to placate you. You glowered at the first young doctor as he silently excused himself from the conversation that was definitely beyond his paygrade.  

“Please tell me he got moved to a different wing.”

“I’m afraid not.” He spoke again before you could let out another outburst. “I warned him of the risks of a premature discharge, to which he insisted he was feeling fine and that those were risks he was willing to take. I had him fill out some paper work and a consent form and he left this morning.” Your nostrils flared as you silently seethed.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that so I don’t have to report you. Oh, and one more thing…” The doctor took a deep breath before proceeding, worried he may end up the subject of your wrath. “This is probably terrible timing, but – he requested to take you off his care team,” your eyes widened “…and should he be re-hospitalized that you not be involved.”

“WHAT?” You continued mumbling a string of profanities under your breath. The doctor continued slowly and calmly.

“He made it very clear it had nothing to do with the quality of care he received from you. But he uh, mentioned something about a potential conflict of interest.” He took a step back as you burned an imaginary hole through his head with your retinas. “I cannot emphasize enough how much I do not want to know any more information about this.”

“There is no more information about it because it doesn’t exist!” You wanted to scream. “Fuck him. Fuck you. Fuck this hospital. I’msosorryItakethoselasttwoback.” You stomped your foot down like a petulant child before storming off. “FUCK!”

-

By the next day you had cooled off, that is, until you saw Hawks loitering outside Endeavor’s room as you were making your rounds.

“YOU!” you boomed. Hawks’ excitement to see you was quickly replaced with fear as you approached and you were close enough that he could see the rage steaming off you.

“Hey doc,” he said sheepishly.

“Don’t you ‘hey doc’ me.” You were very close to his face. He was sure he would’ve felt your breath if he didn’t have the stupid respirator mask on. For a split second he thought about taking it off but realized that would only further enrage you. “What the hell were you thinking?”

He began typing but you swatted his hand before he could answer. “Ow.”

“And you –“ Best Jeanist would be the next recipient of your verbal lashings. “You said you would keep an eye on him. Liar.”

Hawks had never seen his colleague scared before, but there was a first for everything.

“He just wanted to come for a ride-along, I promise he stayed in the car the whole time!”

“I have never been more disappointed,” you said in a low voice. Best Jeanists bowed.

“I am very ashamed and deeply regret my actions. I am sorry.” That seemed to pacify you momentarily. You returned your wrath to Hawks.

“I told you you’re not ready to return to the field. And now I hear you’re refusing to receive treatment from me? I cannot explain to you how embarrassed and insulted I am.” You allowed him time to type this time as Best Jeanist stood there as witness, desperately wishing for the floor to open below and swallow him whole.

“You’re right. I’m not ready. But this enemy is moving too quickly, time is of the essence. I’m in good enough shape that I can help off the field. I’m sorry I went against your professional judgement.” You continued to glare at him with pursed lips.

“And?”

“And I was being proactive. I’m taking you on that date.” Your face flushed immediately while the avian hero somehow remained shameless. You did your best to maintain your composure.

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.” You crossed your arms defensively.

“After a stunt like this, I wouldn’t be so sure. Plus, since you’ve already taken it upon yourself to be discharged I’m not sure why you’re even here.”

“Now that we know about the Todoroki family connection to Dabi, we need to gather intel. Also need to consolidate info from those at the Jaku Hospital attack. Off-field work, if you will.” Your eyes narrowed, only to be met with undeterred playful golden irises.

“Fine, I’ll allow it. But I feel the need to make it known that I’m not happy about it.” The injured hero smiled again.

“Thanks, doc.”

“Again, our sincerest apologies for the mishap.” Best Jeanist did his best to make up for his companion’s clear lack of repentance.

You only gave the heroes a parting glare as you walked away.  

The rest of the day passed, otherwise uneventful but long and exhausting. You kept a professional and pleasant face for the benefit of your patients, but it was getting hard to maintain after all you’d seen in the last seven days since the attacks. Yes, there were cases of miraculous recoveries in the face of overwhelming trauma. But far more frequent were lives that were forever altered by all that had transpired, not just for patients themselves but all the other souls connected to those individuals. The hospital was at capacity, and each bed represented not just one person but a web of lives that now had to face a new crippling reality. If you thought about it too much you could cry – which you did, in the nearest break room or supply closet if had even just two minutes between appointments. Thus, your favorite part of the day became doing paperwork in your office at the end of your shift. It was methodical and soothing, and allowed you to disassociate.

It was at that moment when you were enjoying your oasis that an intern rushed into your office, disturbing your peace.

“There’s an emergency on the top floor, you need to come quick.” You immediately got up and followed her down the hall and up the elevator, asking clarifying questions about the situation.

But when you entered the room in question, all you saw was a picnic blanket on the hospital bed, two champagne flutes, a bottle, and the number two hero. The intern shrank in the doorway.

“I’m really sorry, he said he would send me a bunch of merch if I could get you here.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” You rubbed your temples, hoping it would transport you to another dimension where you never went to medical school and thus would not be here. “You are not to accept a single thing from him, do you understand?” The intern nodded aggressively. “Now go, I’m sure you have better places to be, ideally with a patient who actually needs help.” The intern scurried away without another word.

“And you,” now turning to Hawks. “Bribing medical professionals? Super illegal.”

“Sorry.” His mischievous eyes said otherwise, clearly undeterred by your scolding. You scoffed.

“No you’re not.” He shrugged. You took a closer look at the set up. “Seems kinda wasteful, doesn’t it? You can’t even drink.”

He turned the bottle to show the label. Sparkling nonalcoholic cider. The corners of your lips tugged upwards, threatening to betray your steely exterior.

 Any semblance of a smile quickly vanished, however, when he removed his respirator mask.

“What are you –“ He spoke before you could protest or before he lost his nerves.

“I’m going to be gone for a really long time after today. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Or if I’ll be back.” He cautiously grabbed your hands. “Regardless of which it is, I really want to make sure I don’t break any promises.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in when he paused. You suddenly found it hard to keep eye contact.

“This is a hospital, not the Make A Wish Foundation.” Despite your icy response, you made no effort to pull your hands away from him. He gently rolled his thumb over your knuckles, trying to memorize every ridge and crease.

Most of his face was still covered in bandages, but you liked that you could now see how his lips curved into a lopsided smirk, punctuated by laugh lines that formed around the corners of his mouth. You liked knowing that you were responsible for it. Your mind concocted imaginary circumstances of other things you could do to get him to make the same perfect expression.  Your eyes lifted to meet his when you were done daydreaming.

“I thought they were one in the same.” He was insufferable. His arms fell to his sides when you separated yourself from him. For a moment he almost looked like the defeated shell of himself that was in your care a week ago. But it was quickly washed with relief when he saw you grab the bottle.

“You are the worst patient I’ve ever had.” A satisfying *pop* echoed in the room. He knew your words were hallow, as your acquiescence was rewarded with the hero’s bright eyes and heartfelt smile that made your heart beat in time with the little bubbles that evaporated around you. You handed him a glass of cider, his fingers ghosting over yours as he took the flute from you that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not your patient anymore.”

[honeybuckin10]

I swear trying to write smut feels like:

His hands were hands and then the fingers were in the hand and the hand was with the fingers and the fingers had the hand in the other hand then the fingers dragged to the hand with the fingers and it was hot

[honeybuckin10]

Masterlist

Hello and welcome to my page! I am a lawyer by day and fic writer by night. This is a side blog to my F1 page (sbdskate) for other interests. Currently hyperfixated on MHA, but open to expanding my horizons. While I've been on the platform for a while, I only started contributing my own content recently. This is all still new to me, so please feel free to drop feedback via comments, asks, or DMs. Or use them just to say hi :) Thanks and enjoy!

MHA

Hawks

Code Blue (Hawks x fem!lawyer!reader one shot): Pre-Meta Liberation Army Arc. A hero’s birthday party on a night off blurs the lines of professionalism between the Commission’s rising junior prosecutor and a certain winged hero.

Hospital Beds (Hawks x fem!doctor!reader one shot): Hawks heals more than his wings after the Paranormal Liberation War attacks. - Coming soon!

[honeybuckin10]

Code Blue - a Hawks x fem!lawyer!reader One Shot

Summary: Pre-Meta Liberation Army Arc. A hero’s birthday party on a night off blurs the lines of professionalism between the Commission’s rising junior prosecutor and a certain winged hero when secrets are exchanged [wc 5.2k (I'm so sorry)].

Warnings (nsfw): swearing, drinking, workplace romance, mutual pining, angst and fluff, everyone’s a dummy, mature themes, smut-ish, heavy petting. Characters slightly aged up (mid-late 20’s).

a/n: first time writing for Hawks and/or MHA, would love feedback. please don't be a ghost reader!

Nights off for heroes were few and far between. So when they did happen, usually all Hawks wanted to do was catch up on much needed sleep. But it was Best Jeanist’s birthday, which was how he found himself begrudgingly ordering a round of drinks at the bar for the handful that had gathered to celebrate their friend and colleague.

For the sake of Best Jeanist, he did his best to hide the fact that he was in sensory overload. His feathers only amplified the already deafening bass of the live band, coupled with the loud conversations, and the clinking of dishes, glasses, and silverware.  

“Happy birthday! Sorry I’m late,” he heard the squeaky voice behind him. He turned around to see you giving the birthday boy a friendly hug before handing him a small gift bag with a card sticking out. You were a prosecutor for the Hero Public Safety Commission’s District Attorney's Office. Due to the nature of your work, you crossed paths frequently with heroes to gather evidence and build case files to justly put away villains.  

The first time Hawks met you, you bumped into him in line at the Public Records Department on the second floor of the courthouse. Literally. Your face was buried deep in a case file, the *click clack* of your heels echoing as they hit the linoleum floor. Not paying attention, you walked right into Hawks’ wings, causing you to drop the plethora of papers in your arms.

-

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention!” you said, not even realizing at first who exactly you had bumped into, though you did think it was odd that you had to spit out a feather.

The halls of the courthouse, like any government building, were unfriendly, bureaucratic and slow. Annoyed, he was going to tell you to watch it. The words began to form in his mouth, but fizzled when he turned around and saw you crouched down awkwardly trying to gather all your papers, your range of motion clearly limited by your stiff skirt suit and precariously balanced in your heels. At one point your hair was probably pulled back in a sleek bun, but more than a few strands were now falling out of place. He felt bad. So instead of telling you off, he knelt down to help you pick up whatever was left on the floor.

“It’s ok, these things can be hard to miss sometimes.”

Confused, you looked up to meet golden irises and a sly smirk. Your already rosy cheeks deepened from pink to red upon realizing who was in front of you.

“Oh my God. Mr. Hawks Sir. I’m so sorry.” You immediately got to your feet, straightening out your posture. Your eyes fell from his face to the very prominent crimson wings that hung majestically behind him. You grimaced. “Wow I guess I was really out of it.”

“No worries.” He handed you back the rest of the strewn files, your fingers just grazing. “So… come here often?”

He earned a small laugh from you, finally able to put you at ease somewhat even if only for a moment. “No… or yes? I’m not really sure yet. This is my first case.” A newbie lawyer, of course. You gave a strained smile, but the furrow in your brow gave your nerves away.

“Ah, welcome to hell. Prosecutor or public defender?”

“Prosecutor.” He smiled.

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other, then.”

“I hope so.” Ever the professional, he was sure you didn’t mean for it to come off as anything more than introductory pleasantries. But he couldn’t help the little beat his heart skipped that caused his wings to flutter slightly. He hoped you didn’t notice.

“NEXT!” The voice of the elderly woman at the front desk boomed, hoarse from years of yelling and cigarettes. Hawks took one more look at you as your eyes kept darting to your watch.

“Why don’t you go ahead of me?” he offered. He could have introduced you to Beyonce and he was sure he wouldn’t have gotten the same reaction. You looked like a little kid on Christmas morning, but you did your best to hide your eagerness.

“Are you sure Mr. Hawks?”

“I’m in no rush, I insist. And please, just Hawks.”

“You’re holding up the line, you have five seconds to decide before I’m kicking you both to the back,” the old lady deadpanned. You looked at each other, eyes wide, both biting back shit-eating grins.

“You heard her,” he said. He took a step back, bowing slightly with an arm extended to motion you through.

“Thank you,” you mouthed wordlessly to him as you slid past.

“Good luck.”

-

That was almost two years ago. Since then, you picked up more high-profile cases, including the arrest and sentencing of Stain and had begun to make a name for yourself as a rising junior prosecutor. Two years of various long and agonizing depositions, witness prep, thousands of boxes of files combed through, late night arraignments. Almost two years of brushing elbows in the trenches, and this was his first time seeing you outside of a work setting. But for your voice, he wasn’t sure if he would have recognized you.

Your hair, free from its ordinary confines, fell effortlessly down your shoulders and framed your face perfectly. Sure, occasionally he thought about what your body might look like out of a suit, but the reality was better than anything else his imagination could concoct. Had you always had curves there?

Hawks had always thought you were pretty. But being the Number Two Hero with a predominantly female fan base, he wasn’t necessarily phased by looks. What did phase him was that big brain of yours. You wouldn’t be good at your job if you weren’t insanely intelligent with a work ethic to boot. Hawks realized he had a crush on you after the first time he saw you try a case in person. It was a trial for one of the villains he had taken down and you enlisted him as a witness. Seeing you in court charm every single juror in your opening and closing statements, expertly cross-examining hostile witnesses, keeping your cool in the face of a disrespectful opposing counsel – that’s what got his heart going a mile a minute.

So now here you were in the wild, not in a suit, saying hello to everyone like the social butterfly you were. Your exposed skin was like the answer to a riddle he didn’t know he was trying to solve. He tried not to stare, staring was rude. Staring was also causing his wings to have a mind of their own, puffing up and fluttering away ever so slightly. He turned his back again to hide them, and took a sip of beer trying very much to go unnoticed.

“Um, excuse me ma’am. I’m going to need to see some license and registration for the absolute dump truck you got behind you,” said a devilish Mirko after tapping your shoulder. Your laughter rang out, cutting through the other noise in the bar. Hawks tried to pretend he didn’t hear it, though the corners of his mouth threatened to tug a smile out of him. She’s not wrong.

“Hawks, doesn’t y/n look good in this ‘fit?” He didn’t know how or when, but he was going to kill Mirko. He blamed it on her sixth bunny sense that she’d somehow sniffed out his feelings for you - though it was probably the fact that she noticed he stopped entertaining one-night stands months ago.

“Mirko, have you considered that y/n would like to have a night out without being harassed?” Even in the dim lights of the bar, he could tell your cheeks were flushed. And despite the nonchalant act he was trying to put on, he was sure his face was about the same.

“Hey, I was just giving a compliment,” the bunny said mischievously. She gave Hawks a wink as she backed away, but not before mouthing “If you don’t fuck her, I will.”

“Hi,” you said cheekily, blissfully unaware of the chaos around you.

“Hi Counselor,” he said, no longer able to contain his smile. He dipped down to give you a hug, hoping the way he inhaled your perfume went undetected. His senses were permeated with vanilla and cedarwood, followed by the smell of your floral shampoo. The warmth of your body spread across his chest, and he tried to memorize the way your soft hands felt so small resting on his shoulders. Reluctantly he pulled away.

“So how much catching up do I have to do?” you asked. Hawks swirled around the last of his beer.

“This is my second, but I can’t speak for the rest of my – uh - colleagues,” he said as he glanced at Mirko who was now forcing Best Jeanist to take a shot.

“Ah, I see,” you said slowly, following his line of sight.

“So what can I get you to drink?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“You buying me a drink, Hawks?” He rolled his eyes as you elbowed him in his side wiggling your eyebrows.

“I needed a refill anyways and my tab’s already open. Don’t let it get to your head,” he teased back.

“Oh don’t you worry, I will.” The bartender placed two beers in front of you. You took a long sip, as you watched the hero swirl is drink. Something was off and you were going to get to the bottom of it.  

What Hawks was actually thinking as he stared at his beverage, was that he suddenly had no idea what to say or do with his hands.

“So are you going to spend the rest of the night cowering in the corner? Didn’t think you’d be the wet blanket of the bunch.” He nearly spat out his beer.

“I’m not a wet blanket,” he said defensively.

“Prove it.” You stuck out your hand. “Since you bought me a drink, I think I owe you a dance,” you said with a smirk. He looked at you thoughtfully.

“You owe me nothing except your friendship.”

“Oh we’re friends now? I thought we were colleagues,” poking fun at his earlier comment. He didn’t like the hole you were digging him into. He could flirt with a brick wall, yet for some reason the workplace flirtations that had escalated for two years between you two were not translating to the place where they would be most appropriate.

“I, uh, tend to get in the way. Better not.” He tilted his head towards his back where his wings hung lamely.

“Oh come on don’t be a party pooper,” you gave an encouraging smile. His eyes met yours only for moment, but looking at you was like looking directly into the sun. So he kept his eyes on your hand while he found himself uncharacteristically tongue tied. He took your extended palm, but didn’t budge when you tried pulling him off the barstool. He sensed your breath hitch as he held you in place. Your eyes traveled from your now interlocked hands to his face. “Hawks…?”

*beep* “We got a code red. I repeat, code red. Over.” *beep*

The noise came from your purse, pulling you both out of whatever trance you were in. He raised an eyebrow. Sure enough, you pulled out a walkie talkie and brought it to your mouth.

“Rescue effort deployed, over.” *beep*

His golden orbs finally met yours, your eyes swimming with sympathy.

“I’ve been summoned. I don’t know what’s going on here, but come find me when you’re done sulking, yeah?”

He released your hand and watched as you disappeared into the dance floor, but not before he saw you ward off an unwanted suitor leering over Mount Lady who was still gripping the sister walkie-talkie.

He settled back into the bar seat and chugged.  

“I thought you were fun at parties.” Best Jeanist saddled up beside him, dropping off his empty round. Hawks groaned.

“Not you too.”

“It’s my birthday, you’re obligated to be nice to me. Not that I thought it would be so difficult for you.”

“It’s my first night off in months man, I’m just a little tired.”

“We’re all tired, that’s no excuse.”

Hawks felt guilty, Best Jeanist was right. Embarrassment bubbled in his gut, though maybe that was just the beer.

“Relationships are like a new pair of high quality jeans –“

“Please stop.”

“At first, the fibers are stiff. They take a while to break in, may even feel uncomfortable at first. But after a few wears, the fabric relaxes and molds to the wearer. The perfect denim…”

“Are you done?”

“No. You knew she was going to be here tonight so what gives?”

Hawks ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

-

You and Hawks had been at it for hours. You let out a low groan.

“Can you grab that box for me? I can’t reach.”

Hawks couldn’t help himself. You looked so cute on your tip toes arms extended. The persona you exuded in court was bigger than life, but outside that you were quite ordinary. He liked that you weren’t so infallible that you were beyond the need for his assistance.

The boxes of evidence filled the office, floor to ceiling. You had gone through most of them, only one pile was left. Technically he didn’t have to be there, but he’d bumped into you in the halls of the HPSC long past most had left the building. You explained your plight that the other junior associate assigned to the case with you had bailed. It was for one of the villains he’d captured anyways, so he volunteered to help.

“Yeah, I got it Birdie.” He walked over to where you were, but you didn’t budge. Stubbornly you continued to wave your arms as though you’d be able to summon the box clearly out of reach through sheer will alone. It was, in a word, adorable. So he perched himself behind you, pressing against your backside to absolve you of your struggle. He was being mindful of space - was the story he told himself, which was a lie. It would also be a lie to say he didn’t enjoy it.

You inhaled sharply and instinctively closed your eyes, his cologne infiltrating your nose. It’s not that you and Hawks hadn’t made physical contact before, it’s just that it was mostly in the form of professional or friendly touches. Like handshakes or pats on the back or nudging arms. There had only been a handful of other times where there was accidental increased contact, and each time felt like an out of body experience. This was no different. You tried not to push your ass into him as he reached above you, relishing the warmth of his body against yours. Meekly, you let your arms drop to your sides as a shiver rolled down your spine.

You only turned around when you heard him drop the box on the ground. You let your back land on the stack of boxes against the wall. You drank in his form, mere inches away from you. Jacket and gloves long discarded, you admired the veins in his forearms and the contours of his muscles that shown through his shirt. You knew he caught you staring, but you didn’t mind.

Hawks stared right back at you, silently enjoying the way the collar of your blouse, now partially unbuttoned and lopsided, showed off your clavicle. Your hair once perfectly coiffed now fell in a loose bun, strays falling around your face. Your half-lidded eyes beckoned him to close the tiny gap between you.

Maybe it was sleep deprivation that he forgot who you were (his coworker) or where he was (inside your office in the building of the HPSC). All sense of rationality went out the window the moment Hawks decided to take a step forward. Your eyes followed as he placed a hand next to your head, then trailed up the length of his arm back to his face, finally focusing on his lush lips that were suddenly very close. You held your breath as you patiently waited for impact that never came. His beeper went off, startling you both and cutting the moment short.

-

That was last night.

You were a lawyer. You followed rules. You enforced rules. Not that sleeping/dating a coworker was illegal, but it felt like you were doing something wrong. You weren’t each other’s superiors or subordinates, you weren’t in the same department, you checked the Commission’s bylaws and there was nothing else explicitly prohibiting romantic relations between employees. But you were still scared to disrupt the status quo.

You didn’t think much of it at first. You knew Hawks flirted with anything with a pulse. So you didn’t see the harm in giving him a taste of his own medicine every now and then. You weren’t sure when you started having actual feelings for him. It might have been a few months ago when you got to your office in the morning after a long night of work, only to find a coffee and a crimson feather on your desk. When had you told him your coffee order? All you knew was that the exchanges that once felt like an inside joke now seemed like cruel and unusual punishment, a reminder that you were nothing special and that this was just how he acted with everyone.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been out on the dancefloor. Your feet were starting to hurt. Mirko had fed you two shots and you were now nursing the remaining ice from your second gin and tonic. With clear liquor and cloudy eyes, you felt your confidence draining as the night wore on, no sign of The Winged Hero in sight. Did you go too far? Did you horribly misread last night’s events? Was he avoiding you?

You felt a pair of hands grip your hips, pulling you out of your daydream and realizing you had no idea where everyone else was. Your hand flew to your purse to grab your walkie-talkie.

“Don’t tell me you’re about to code-red me.” Your eyes immediately lit up as you turned around, too much alcohol in your system to play coy.

“You came!” Your hands excitedly drummed his chest. Your grin was infectious. He leaned in to make himself heard over the speakers.  

“Of course I did. Just took a while to find you, you’re pretty short.” His hot breath tickled your ear.

“You think I’m pretty?” you drawled, a lazy smile plastered on your face. The initial panic in his eyes softened as he realized your mistake. He didn’t have the heart to correct you, nor were you were wrong.

“That’s not what I – yeah… you’re pretty.” You pressed yourself up into him on tip toes, cupping a hand around his ear.

“Can I tell you a secret?” His heartbeat quickened, his own sobriety lacking along with his social filter. He should have shut it down, but instead he said:

“Always.”

“I – “

“Hey, watch it with those things.” His wings, again having a mind of their own, had inadvertently fluttered a drink out of a nearby patron’s hands - and he wasn’t happy about it. He was about to apologize, but you beat him to the response.

“Clearly it was an accident, why don’t you watch it you bitch-ass – ” On one hand, he thought it was very sexy how you tried to defend him. On the other, you were simply not threatening no matter how hard you tried and the last thing Hawks wanted right now was to ruin what felt like the most important moment of his life with a bar fight.

“I am very sorry sir, it was an accident. Feel free to use my tab the rest of the night,” he said to the man as he picked you up by your midsection and carried you away before you could finish the sentence. Even as you retreated, you continued your death glare towards the stranger who was left very confused.

Hawks placed you down in a corner where his wings and your sharp tongue hopefully wouldn’t cause any further disruptions. He leaned his back against the wall just to be safe.

“So do you usually go around starting bar fights?” he said with a smug smile.

“Me?! He started it and I was defending your honor,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “You’re welcome,” you said defiantly. To your dismay, the hero let out a hearty laugh. “Hey!”

“I’m sorry. You’re right, you were very scary,” he finally got out as his laughter slowed.  

“Don’t lie,” you pouted.

“It was really cute.” He was still laughing, but you were starting to sober up.

“I said don’t lie.” Your meek voice was barely audible in the still boisterous bar. His eyes softened at your hardened expression.

“I-I wasn’t.” He was suddenly very aware of your surroundings, which was next to the line starting to form by the bathrooms. Loud chit chatter and crying coming from the ladies’ room mixed with sound of someone audibly vomiting from the men’s room was not exactly how he pictured this going down. He took your hand and started walking again.

“Ugh, where are we going now? Our friends are still there,” you groaned. Friends. Why was that word so easy for you, yet rolled off his tongue like sand paper?

“We can go back inside in a minute, but I want to talk.” He’d led you out the backdoor of the bar. You looked around, clearly confused.

“Dude, what is happening?”

“I couldn’t hear you in there and we were next to the bathrooms.”

“So you dragged me out to an alleyway next to a literal dumpster. Got it.” He looked around just to check if you were correct, which unfortunately, you were.

You couldn’t be serious with each other if you tried. Snorts and stifled giggles filled the alley, overpowering the dull bass from inside.

“I guess I really know how to set the mood, huh.” He scratched the back of his head, admiring the scenery.

“I didn’t know there was a mood to be set.” Your tone was inquisitive, free of judgement. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? You’ve been acting weird all night.”

Hawks took a deep breath, trying to gather his growing nerves. But he was a coward who’d rather fly into a burning building than share his feelings so he deflected.

“You said you were going to tell me a secret in there. What was it?”

Your felt your cheeks immediately burn. The liquid courage you had before was wearing off so you volleyed back.

“You have to tell me a secret first,” you said defensively. Hawks rolled his eyes.

“I’ve already told you two secrets tonight, you just weren’t paying attention.”

“Like wha- oh.” You brought a hand to your mouth to cover the audible gasp that left your lips. You wondered if Hawks was embarrassed. If he was, he hid it well under the guise of a knowing smirk. It was at that moment you noticed how his gilded eyes shone spectacularly under the dim glow of the nearby streetlamp. Perhaps the embarrassment, if any, was also pacified by how clearly flustered you were by the culmination of all that had transpired in the last 24 hours. You crossed your arms. “Well… I still need one more secret from you.”

“Wow, three for the price of one? Now you’re just overselling it.” He stopped teasing when he saw you pouting again. Not a playful pout, but the kind that made it look like you were about to break. He never thought of you as fragile before. He grabbed your hand, averting his gaze.

“You have to promise to keep it a secret, ok?” You nodded, squeezing his hand for reassurance.

“I promise.” He took a deep breath, finally gathering the courage to look you in the eyes again.

“Keigo.”

“What?”

“Keigo,” he said again. “Keigo Takami. That’s my real name.” Your eyes widened in horror realizing you’d made him compromise his own security. You frantically began scanning your surroundings for any unintentional witnesses. He grabbed your shoulders to steady you.

“Oh my god, Hawks, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to –“

“Shhhh it’s ok there’s no one else around. You didn’t force me, I want you to know. Please, call me Keigo.” He watched the rise and fall of your chest, trying to monitor your labored breathing. Again, this was not going as planned. Not that he really had a plan to begin with. But even if he did, causing you to go into cardiac arrest surely was not on the list. Your breath finally started to slow.

“Keigo,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. You liked the way his name felt on your tongue, so you said it again. “Keigo.”

He tried to suppress a smile, watching how the corners of your lips tugged upwards. His hand, seemingly acting on its own, stroked your hair as he continued to sooth you.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” which was another way to say he’d never heard a more beautiful sound in his life than his real name falling from your lips.

He tried to lighten the mood, not wanting to cause you any more distress than he already had over the course of the night.

“Not to brag, but this better be one hell of a secret ‘cause–“

He didn’t get to finish the sentence. You grabbed him by the collar to bring his lips to yours in a messy, fervent kiss that took his breath away but was over in the blink of an eye before he could act or process.  

You pushed him away slightly as you caught your breath, looking just as surprised as he was about the whole ordeal.   

“I-I’m sorry I should’ve asked –“

He crashed into you as he held both sides of your face, afraid you may float away if that beautiful mind of yours started to overthink as it often did. The force knocked you into the building behind you, but you didn’t mind. Wandering hands traveled over each other’s bodies, both eager to explore foreign skin. Your tongues danced in unison as you body tingled under his erratic touch, grabbing your arms, back, hips, waist, hair, whatever he could hold onto unable to stay in one place for long.

You couldn’t stop your own hands from feeling the muscles you’d watched from afar for so long, enjoying the ripple of his abs, the sturdiness of his chest, finally landing around his neck. You pulled him impossibly closer, spiteful of the little space that still separated you. His wings protectively caged around you, shielding any prying eyes from your compromising position.

In an extraordinary display of restraint he kept a hand on your ribcage, his fingers delicately ghosting the band of your bra over your clothes, his intent clear but never crossing boundaries. You smiled into the kiss deciding to take advantage of the new privacy as you placed your hand over his to guide it to its true destination. He let out a groan that reverberated against your lips as he squeezed the soft flesh under him, still in disbelief that he should be so lucky to experience all that had only existed in his imagination. He swallowed the soft moan you let out when he grazed his thumb over your sensitive nipple that peaked through the fabric of your top. You rolled your hips forward desperate for friction, and he eagerly returned the favor. You gasped at the feeling of his bulge against your pelvis, which you realized was the first time you’d come up for air since you locked lips.   

His mouth traveled down your neck until he found a sweet spot that made you squirm. Your hand also made its way south, but your path was halted by his calloused hand when you reached the waistband of his pants. Hawks might fuck you in an alleyway outside a bar, but Keigo wanted to build you the softest nest to lay you on because you deserved nothing less.

He nuzzled his face into the crook of you neck as his other hand drew little circles on the small of your back.

“Technically… that wasn’t a secret,” he whispered into your skin. Your chests rattled against one another as laughter escaped your lungs.

“You’re an ass,” you said through fits of giggles. He nipped a little more at your neck, encouraging you on. “If you’re going to make me say it… I wanted to kiss you. Tonight. And last night. And the day before that. And the week before that. And –“

He kissed you once more to cut you off, but this time it was sweet and soft. It made you feel calm and centered. So when he pulled away, you decided to share more.

“Can I tell you another secret?”

“If it’s anything like the first one, absolutely.” He brought your captured wrist to his mouth, leaving a trail of small kisses over your hand. Your heartbeat that finally started to slow picked right back up.

“I’ve never flown before.” You not-so-subtly glanced at his wings before looking back at him, eyebrow raised. He gave you a wicked grin.

“Yeah I can give you a ride little bird. Not to be presumptuous, but uh… your place or mine?” You pretended to think hard about the proposition.

“Hmm. I’d say appropriately-sumptuous, and… dealer’s choice.” Hawks had found his way to your neck again which made thinking straight quite difficult, but you persisted nonetheless. “Though… maybe we go back inside and table this for another hour. I feel bad leaving without saying goodbye.”

Hawks moved up the column of you neck until his breath was in your ear.

“I’m gonna go on a limb and say, I think it would make the birthday boy very happy if we didn’t.” Despite the blush that crept to your cheeks knowing you may be the subject of workplace gossip tomorrow, your core clenched in anticipation at his words. The hero could tell from your dazed expression that it was time to go. That was, at least, until the walkie-talkie in your purse went off again.

*beep* “Code blue, y/n where are you? Over.” *beep*

You could see his sails deflate when you pulled out the device, assuming once again that his plans were foiled. Not one to put up a fight, he moved towards the door to reunite with everyone. But you didn’t budge, squeezing his hand to hold him in place. He watched closely as your other hand brought the walkie-talkie to your mouth. The playful twinkle in your eyes told him all he needed to know.

“The eagle has landed in the nest. Over.” *beep*

[honeybuckin10]

The “oh I could definitely write this fanfic in under 5000 words and it really wouldn’t take me that long” voice in your head is actually the devil speaking

[honeybuckin10]

Takami Keigo(Hawks) x Reader Fic Recs!! (Tumblr/Ao3/Wattpad)

My Hero Academia Fic Rec Masterlist

lay low (take it slow) ✨by @andypantsx3/andypantsx3(college student! reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut) What even was the right google search for this situation? How do I sew someone back together without passing out? How do I not barf on the pro hero I’m stitching up? Or, Hawks’ game of double agent lands him in the shaky hands of one (1) very unequipped English major.[COMPLETED]

Falling for You ✨by @flannel-cladpika (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff)Every year, on your birthdays, you two will switch quirks.[COMPLETED]

Golden ✨by @meganshinsou-tm (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) When you touch yoursoulmate for the first time a thin gold line with be etched around your wrists.

Soul Chicken by @hitsuackerman (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) Soulmate AU where the first words your soulmate says to you are written on your wrist and while Hawks has an absolutely unhelpful phrase written on them, y/n has something….unique.

Bird Hunting | Pt.2:Bird's Nest✨ by @a-n-conrad (oneshot, soulmate au)In a world where your soulmate was found through a symbol appearing on your left forearm, hinting at the quirk of your soulmate, you had to admit that you were lucky. You already knew who your soulmate was. The only issue was that there was really no way for you, an ordinary person, to get anywhere near the number 2 hero.

Petals and Feather✨ by @a-n-conrad(oneshot, hanahaki au, angst with happy ending) You’ve finally gotten a job as a sidekick after graduating from UA about a year before. But after working with Hawks for a few months it starts to get a bit hard to breathe. How are you supposed to fix a case of Hanahaki disease when you happened to fall in love with the most emotionally unavailable hero alive? [COMPLETED]

BNHA Soulmate AU Week Day 4: Save Your Soul by @writing-freak (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff)part of soulmate au week; everyone has colorful marks on their skin where their soulmate touches them for the first time. you’re determined to hide your soulmarks: a pair of hands on your waist.[COMPLETED]

“you really have got nothing to do on a friday night”  by @bakugohoex (oneshot, fluff)in which your friend keigo invites you to a pro hero event as his plus one, the event leads to a lot more than you expected.[COMPLETED]

Little Moments by @bnhascribbles (oneshot, fluff)Just Hawk's early morning visit.[COMPLETED]

lavender latte✨ by luxdeoro (coffee shop au, fluff, mutual pinning)You serve Hawks a lavender, oat milk latte. Not only is he hooked on your drinks, but he's hooked on you as well.[ONGOING]

a spoonful of sugar✨✨ by Mossful (fluff, angst) In which the Reader bakes and Hawks eats.[COMPLETED]

Pocket Full of Feathers✨ by forthesanityof1 (fluff, humor) You are an investigative journalist starting at a new agency. A chance meeting brings you and Hawks together and starts some odd behaviors on his part. You dismiss it, but end up meeting the hero again and again over time. Slowly, you start to realize things are occurring both within and outside of your control.[COMPLETED]

(Quirk)y Days✨✨ by wotefokizbrunch(fluff, angst, hurt/comfort) In a world where 80% of the population has some wacky power, it is expected for strange shit to happen on accident, or even on purpose, like that one time a villain hit Hawks with a deaging quirk; he left that morning for work his grown ass self and then you had to pick his 5-year-old-self up from the agency.[COMPLETED]

and i've gotta crow ✨by dashielldeveron(enemies to lovers, ) “We’re engaged to be married.” No, you are not. After an accident that was that bastard Hawks’s fault, you decide to play along with your diagnosis of amnesia, among other things, because how far can you make your former bully bend over backwards for you?[COMPLETED]

Color Blind✨ by HeroAssociation(soulmate au, fluff, angst with happy ending) Takami Keigo, otherwise known as the Winged Hero Hawks, had one such mark. He never expected, nor looked for, the person that would change it. Then he found you by accident.[COMPLETED]

The Harpy ✨by romanceisdeadbutimnot(enemies to lovers, fantasy au, fluff) Desperate for adventure you volunteer to check the monster traps protecting your small village. To your surprise you catch a wounded half bird half man, and decide to nurse him back to health.[COMPLETED]

What's Got Your Feathers In A Bunch? by darkenedniqhts(oneshot, fluff, humor)When Hawks saves you from a villain attack, you hit it off surprisingly well, considering the circumstances. Everything is going great, until he meets your roommate.[COMPLETED]

Compelling/tumblr by @bnhascribbles/ ScatteredScribbles(oneshot, hurt/comfort) Hey listen, I’ve got a lot of baggage when it comes to my quirk. Could you repeat the word “yes” if you’re here of your own free will? Oh, and since you’ll probably say that either way and since I’m an emotionally compromised freak, just know that I’ll never actually feel secure in our relationship. This’ll definitely be a recurring thing, and it’s probably gonna be the reason why we end terribly.[COMPLETED]

 Blush by @flannel-cladpika (oneshot, fluff)[COMPLETED]

Headlines✨ by @bnhascribbles(oneshot, fluff) Holding up the newspaper in plain view, you take steady, ominous steps towards his desk. “Any last words, birdbrain?”[COMPLETED]

Stuck In An Elavator With You by @yeahimaloser (oneshot, fluff)he hadn’t really dated anyone before (not seriously anyway), so when he began to develop feelings for a certain someone, he was surprised, to say the least.[COMPLETED]

The Sky is Everywhere by @dira333/Fogfire(oneshot, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending)Post-Break up is before the Break up…[COMPLETED]

Sometime Around Midnight✨ by 0weCrew(friends to lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending) All you wanted to do was enjoy a quiet night looking up at the stars. But fate decided to mess with you instead, and Japan's favorite birdbrain crashed your pity party of one by scaring you shitless.[COMPLETED]

Preening✨ by royalwilds(oneshot, fluff)Hawks loves your hair, playing with it, brushing it, washing it. you realize that it comes from another instinctual nature of his. You try to figure out how to return the gesture.[COMPLETED]

Babybird by Pomenocti(oneshot, fluff)Just Hawks being a dad.[COMPLETED]

Crash✨ by ivan_glee(oneshot, fluff)In which Reader is sunbathing and gets an unexpected visit from the No. 2 hero.[COMPLETED]

A Lungful of Smoke✨ by UnluckyAmulet(oneshot, fluff) As if nearly dying today wasn't bad enough…now you have a crush, too. Damn it.[COMPLETED]

Little Bird by alaskasmonsters(oneshot, fluff) Hawks wasn’t just the charming number two pro-hero the world knew him as. No, he had other sides to him, sides only you, his roommate, had the privilege to uncover. Especially his more birdlike quirks. Like how much he relaxed when people took care of his wings…[COMPLETED]

crawl home to me✨ by Hawnks (supermintfluff)(oneshot, strangers to lovers, hurt/comfort) What is a hero besides determination and hunger? What is a lover if not a resting place?[COMPLETED]

Shiny Things by royalwilds(oneshot, fluff) Hawks has more bird-like tendencies than you initially thought. He likes to present you with odd items as gifts and finally you figure out why.[COMPLETED]

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery by galatiq(oneshot, fluff, humor. coffee shop au) When you put a coffee shop and a nasty storm together, apparently you get Big Bird from Sesame Street crashing into your window. [COMPLETED]

Flowers, Wings, Smirks and Quirks (Ingredients for Love) by ENDisI (oneshot, angst with happy ending, hanahaki disease au) Why was it when you joked about Hanahaki not being real, fate just slaps you awake and tells you "Oh, it's true. You didn't know?" [COMPLETED]

i am your salvation✨ by luxdeoro(oneshot, angst, hurt/comfort) Keigo loses his wings and most of himself, and you're around to try and pick up the pieces.[COMPLETED]

Balcony by RyeTarts(friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst, smut<18+>) After saving you from an office building fire, Hawks thinks that your paths were no longer intertwined. Oh how wrong he would be.[COMPLETED]

Birds Of A Feather by CheerieCherrie(fluff, explicit skippable chp.6) You move to Japan for a change of pace in your hectic life. It doesn't happen, thanks to one chaotic bird man.[COMPLETED]

[honeybuckin10]

Code Blue - a Hawks x fem!lawyer!reader One Shot

Summary: Pre-Meta Liberation Army Arc. A hero’s birthday party on a night off blurs the lines of professionalism between the Commission’s rising junior prosecutor and a certain winged hero when secrets are exchanged [wc 5.2k (I'm so sorry)].

Warnings (nsfw): swearing, drinking, workplace romance, mutual pining, angst and fluff, everyone’s a dummy, mature themes, smut-ish, heavy petting. Characters slightly aged up (mid-late 20’s).

a/n: first time writing for Hawks and/or MHA, would love feedback. please don't be a ghost reader!

Nights off for heroes were few and far between. So when they did happen, usually all Hawks wanted to do was catch up on much needed sleep. But it was Best Jeanist’s birthday, which was how he found himself begrudgingly ordering a round of drinks at the bar for the handful that had gathered to celebrate their friend and colleague.

For the sake of Best Jeanist, he did his best to hide the fact that he was in sensory overload. His feathers only amplified the already deafening bass of the live band, coupled with the loud conversations, and the clinking of dishes, glasses, and silverware.  

“Happy birthday! Sorry I’m late,” he heard the squeaky voice behind him. He turned around to see you giving the birthday boy a friendly hug before handing him a small gift bag with a card sticking out. You were a prosecutor for the Hero Public Safety Commission’s District Attorney's Office. Due to the nature of your work, you crossed paths frequently with heroes to gather evidence and build case files to justly put away villains.  

The first time Hawks met you, you bumped into him in line at the Public Records Department on the second floor of the courthouse. Literally. Your face was buried deep in a case file, the *click clack* of your heels echoing as they hit the linoleum floor. Not paying attention, you walked right into Hawks’ wings, causing you to drop the plethora of papers in your arms.

-

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention!” you said, not even realizing at first who exactly you had bumped into, though you did think it was odd that you had to spit out a feather.

The halls of the courthouse, like any government building, were unfriendly, bureaucratic and slow. Annoyed, he was going to tell you to watch it. The words began to form in his mouth, but fizzled when he turned around and saw you crouched down awkwardly trying to gather all your papers, your range of motion clearly limited by your stiff skirt suit and precariously balanced in your heels. At one point your hair was probably pulled back in a sleek bun, but more than a few strands were now falling out of place. He felt bad. So instead of telling you off, he knelt down to help you pick up whatever was left on the floor.

“It’s ok, these things can be hard to miss sometimes.”

Confused, you looked up to meet golden irises and a sly smirk. Your already rosy cheeks deepened from pink to red upon realizing who was in front of you.

“Oh my God. Mr. Hawks Sir. I’m so sorry.” You immediately got to your feet, straightening out your posture. Your eyes fell from his face to the very prominent crimson wings that hung majestically behind him. You grimaced. “Wow I guess I was really out of it.”

“No worries.” He handed you back the rest of the strewn files, your fingers just grazing. “So… come here often?”

He earned a small laugh from you, finally able to put you at ease somewhat even if only for a moment. “No… or yes? I’m not really sure yet. This is my first case.” A newbie lawyer, of course. You gave a strained smile, but the furrow in your brow gave your nerves away.

“Ah, welcome to hell. Prosecutor or public defender?”

“Prosecutor.” He smiled.

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other, then.”

“I hope so.” Ever the professional, he was sure you didn’t mean for it to come off as anything more than introductory pleasantries. But he couldn’t help the little beat his heart skipped that caused his wings to flutter slightly. He hoped you didn’t notice.

“NEXT!” The voice of the elderly woman at the front desk boomed, hoarse from years of yelling and cigarettes. Hawks took one more look at you as your eyes kept darting to your watch.

“Why don’t you go ahead of me?” he offered. He could have introduced you to Beyonce and he was sure he wouldn’t have gotten the same reaction. You looked like a little kid on Christmas morning, but you did your best to hide your eagerness.

“Are you sure Mr. Hawks?”

“I’m in no rush, I insist. And please, just Hawks.”

“You’re holding up the line, you have five seconds to decide before I’m kicking you both to the back,” the old lady deadpanned. You looked at each other, eyes wide, both biting back shit-eating grins.

“You heard her,” he said. He took a step back, bowing slightly with an arm extended to motion you through.

“Thank you,” you mouthed wordlessly to him as you slid past.

“Good luck.”

-

That was almost two years ago. Since then, you picked up more high-profile cases, including the arrest and sentencing of Stain and had begun to make a name for yourself as a rising junior prosecutor. Two years of various long and agonizing depositions, witness prep, thousands of boxes of files combed through, late night arraignments. Almost two years of brushing elbows in the trenches, and this was his first time seeing you outside of a work setting. But for your voice, he wasn’t sure if he would have recognized you.

Your hair, free from its ordinary confines, fell effortlessly down your shoulders and framed your face perfectly. Sure, occasionally he thought about what your body might look like out of a suit, but the reality was better than anything else his imagination could concoct. Had you always had curves there?

Hawks had always thought you were pretty. But being the Number Two Hero with a predominantly female fan base, he wasn’t necessarily phased by looks. What did phase him was that big brain of yours. You wouldn’t be good at your job if you weren’t insanely intelligent with a work ethic to boot. Hawks realized he had a crush on you after the first time he saw you try a case in person. It was a trial for one of the villains he had taken down and you enlisted him as a witness. Seeing you in court charm every single juror in your opening and closing statements, expertly cross-examining hostile witnesses, keeping your cool in the face of a disrespectful opposing counsel – that’s what got his heart going a mile a minute.

So now here you were in the wild, not in a suit, saying hello to everyone like the social butterfly you were. Your exposed skin was like the answer to a riddle he didn’t know he was trying to solve. He tried not to stare, staring was rude. Staring was also causing his wings to have a mind of their own, puffing up and fluttering away ever so slightly. He turned his back again to hide them, and took a sip of beer trying very much to go unnoticed.

“Um, excuse me ma’am. I’m going to need to see some license and registration for the absolute dump truck you got behind you,” said a devilish Mirko after tapping your shoulder. Your laughter rang out, cutting through the other noise in the bar. Hawks tried to pretend he didn’t hear it, though the corners of his mouth threatened to tug a smile out of him. She’s not wrong.

“Hawks, doesn’t y/n look good in this ‘fit?” He didn’t know how or when, but he was going to kill Mirko. He blamed it on her sixth bunny sense that she’d somehow sniffed out his feelings for you - though it was probably the fact that she noticed he stopped entertaining one-night stands months ago.

“Mirko, have you considered that y/n would like to have a night out without being harassed?” Even in the dim lights of the bar, he could tell your cheeks were flushed. And despite the nonchalant act he was trying to put on, he was sure his face was about the same.

“Hey, I was just giving a compliment,” the bunny said mischievously. She gave Hawks a wink as she backed away, but not before mouthing “If you don’t fuck her, I will.”

“Hi,” you said cheekily, blissfully unaware of the chaos around you.

“Hi Counselor,” he said, no longer able to contain his smile. He dipped down to give you a hug, hoping the way he inhaled your perfume went undetected. His senses were permeated with vanilla and cedarwood, followed by the smell of your floral shampoo. The warmth of your body spread across his chest, and he tried to memorize the way your soft hands felt so small resting on his shoulders. Reluctantly he pulled away.

“So how much catching up do I have to do?” you asked. Hawks swirled around the last of his beer.

“This is my second, but I can’t speak for the rest of my – uh - colleagues,” he said as he glanced at Mirko who was now forcing Best Jeanist to take a shot.

“Ah, I see,” you said slowly, following his line of sight.

“So what can I get you to drink?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“You buying me a drink, Hawks?” He rolled his eyes as you elbowed him in his side wiggling your eyebrows.

“I needed a refill anyways and my tab’s already open. Don’t let it get to your head,” he teased back.

“Oh don’t you worry, I will.” The bartender placed two beers in front of you. You took a long sip, as you watched the hero swirl is drink. Something was off and you were going to get to the bottom of it.  

What Hawks was actually thinking as he stared at his beverage, was that he suddenly had no idea what to say or do with his hands.

“So are you going to spend the rest of the night cowering in the corner? Didn’t think you’d be the wet blanket of the bunch.” He nearly spat out his beer.

“I’m not a wet blanket,” he said defensively.

“Prove it.” You stuck out your hand. “Since you bought me a drink, I think I owe you a dance,” you said with a smirk. He looked at you thoughtfully.

“You owe me nothing except your friendship.”

“Oh we’re friends now? I thought we were colleagues,” poking fun at his earlier comment. He didn’t like the hole you were digging him into. He could flirt with a brick wall, yet for some reason the workplace flirtations that had escalated for two years between you two were not translating to the place where they would be most appropriate.

“I, uh, tend to get in the way. Better not.” He tilted his head towards his back where his wings hung lamely.

“Oh come on don’t be a party pooper,” you gave an encouraging smile. His eyes met yours only for moment, but looking at you was like looking directly into the sun. So he kept his eyes on your hand while he found himself uncharacteristically tongue tied. He took your extended palm, but didn’t budge when you tried pulling him off the barstool. He sensed your breath hitch as he held you in place. Your eyes traveled from your now interlocked hands to his face. “Hawks…?”

*beep* “We got a code red. I repeat, code red. Over.” *beep*

The noise came from your purse, pulling you both out of whatever trance you were in. He raised an eyebrow. Sure enough, you pulled out a walkie talkie and brought it to your mouth.

“Rescue effort deployed, over.” *beep*

His golden orbs finally met yours, your eyes swimming with sympathy.

“I’ve been summoned. I don’t know what’s going on here, but come find me when you’re done sulking, yeah?”

He released your hand and watched as you disappeared into the dance floor, but not before he saw you ward off an unwanted suitor leering over Mount Lady who was still gripping the sister walkie-talkie.

He settled back into the bar seat and chugged.  

“I thought you were fun at parties.” Best Jeanist saddled up beside him, dropping off his empty round. Hawks groaned.

“Not you too.”

“It’s my birthday, you’re obligated to be nice to me. Not that I thought it would be so difficult for you.”

“It’s my first night off in months man, I’m just a little tired.”

“We’re all tired, that’s no excuse.”

Hawks felt guilty, Best Jeanist was right. Embarrassment bubbled in his gut, though maybe that was just the beer.

“Relationships are like a new pair of high quality jeans –“

“Please stop.”

“At first, the fibers are stiff. They take a while to break in, may even feel uncomfortable at first. But after a few wears, the fabric relaxes and molds to the wearer. The perfect denim…”

“Are you done?”

“No. You knew she was going to be here tonight so what gives?”

Hawks ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

-

You and Hawks had been at it for hours. You let out a low groan.

“Can you grab that box for me? I can’t reach.”

Hawks couldn’t help himself. You looked so cute on your tip toes arms extended. The persona you exuded in court was bigger than life, but outside that you were quite ordinary. He liked that you weren’t so infallible that you were beyond the need for his assistance.

The boxes of evidence filled the office, floor to ceiling. You had gone through most of them, only one pile was left. Technically he didn’t have to be there, but he’d bumped into you in the halls of the HPSC long past most had left the building. You explained your plight that the other junior associate assigned to the case with you had bailed. It was for one of the villains he’d captured anyways, so he volunteered to help.

“Yeah, I got it Birdie.” He walked over to where you were, but you didn’t budge. Stubbornly you continued to wave your arms as though you’d be able to summon the box clearly out of reach through sheer will alone. It was, in a word, adorable. So he perched himself behind you, pressing against your backside to absolve you of your struggle. He was being mindful of space - was the story he told himself, which was a lie. It would also be a lie to say he didn’t enjoy it.

You inhaled sharply and instinctively closed your eyes, his cologne infiltrating your nose. It’s not that you and Hawks hadn’t made physical contact before, it’s just that it was mostly in the form of professional or friendly touches. Like handshakes or pats on the back or nudging arms. There had only been a handful of other times where there was accidental increased contact, and each time felt like an out of body experience. This was no different. You tried not to push your ass into him as he reached above you, relishing the warmth of his body against yours. Meekly, you let your arms drop to your sides as a shiver rolled down your spine.

You only turned around when you heard him drop the box on the ground. You let your back land on the stack of boxes against the wall. You drank in his form, mere inches away from you. Jacket and gloves long discarded, you admired the veins in his forearms and the contours of his muscles that shown through his shirt. You knew he caught you staring, but you didn’t mind.

Hawks stared right back at you, silently enjoying the way the collar of your blouse, now partially unbuttoned and lopsided, showed off your clavicle. Your hair once perfectly coiffed now fell in a loose bun, strays falling around your face. Your half-lidded eyes beckoned him to close the tiny gap between you.

Maybe it was sleep deprivation that he forgot who you were (his coworker) or where he was (inside your office in the building of the HPSC). All sense of rationality went out the window the moment Hawks decided to take a step forward. Your eyes followed as he placed a hand next to your head, then trailed up the length of his arm back to his face, finally focusing on his lush lips that were suddenly very close. You held your breath as you patiently waited for impact that never came. His beeper went off, startling you both and cutting the moment short.

-

That was last night.

You were a lawyer. You followed rules. You enforced rules. Not that sleeping/dating a coworker was illegal, but it felt like you were doing something wrong. You weren’t each other’s superiors or subordinates, you weren’t in the same department, you checked the Commission’s bylaws and there was nothing else explicitly prohibiting romantic relations between employees. But you were still scared to disrupt the status quo.

You didn’t think much of it at first. You knew Hawks flirted with anything with a pulse. So you didn’t see the harm in giving him a taste of his own medicine every now and then. You weren’t sure when you started having actual feelings for him. It might have been a few months ago when you got to your office in the morning after a long night of work, only to find a coffee and a crimson feather on your desk. When had you told him your coffee order? All you knew was that the exchanges that once felt like an inside joke now seemed like cruel and unusual punishment, a reminder that you were nothing special and that this was just how he acted with everyone.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been out on the dancefloor. Your feet were starting to hurt. Mirko had fed you two shots and you were now nursing the remaining ice from your second gin and tonic. With clear liquor and cloudy eyes, you felt your confidence draining as the night wore on, no sign of The Winged Hero in sight. Did you go too far? Did you horribly misread last night’s events? Was he avoiding you?

You felt a pair of hands grip your hips, pulling you out of your daydream and realizing you had no idea where everyone else was. Your hand flew to your purse to grab your walkie-talkie.

“Don’t tell me you’re about to code-red me.” Your eyes immediately lit up as you turned around, too much alcohol in your system to play coy.

“You came!” Your hands excitedly drummed his chest. Your grin was infectious. He leaned in to make himself heard over the speakers.  

“Of course I did. Just took a while to find you, you’re pretty short.” His hot breath tickled your ear.

“You think I’m pretty?” you drawled, a lazy smile plastered on your face. The initial panic in his eyes softened as he realized your mistake. He didn’t have the heart to correct you, nor were you were wrong.

“That’s not what I – yeah… you’re pretty.” You pressed yourself up into him on tip toes, cupping a hand around his ear.

“Can I tell you a secret?” His heartbeat quickened, his own sobriety lacking along with his social filter. He should have shut it down, but instead he said:

“Always.”

“I – “

“Hey, watch it with those things.” His wings, again having a mind of their own, had inadvertently fluttered a drink out of a nearby patron’s hands - and he wasn’t happy about it. He was about to apologize, but you beat him to the response.

“Clearly it was an accident, why don’t you watch it you bitch-ass – ” On one hand, he thought it was very sexy how you tried to defend him. On the other, you were simply not threatening no matter how hard you tried and the last thing Hawks wanted right now was to ruin what felt like the most important moment of his life with a bar fight.

“I am very sorry sir, it was an accident. Feel free to use my tab the rest of the night,” he said to the man as he picked you up by your midsection and carried you away before you could finish the sentence. Even as you retreated, you continued your death glare towards the stranger who was left very confused.

Hawks placed you down in a corner where his wings and your sharp tongue hopefully wouldn’t cause any further disruptions. He leaned his back against the wall just to be safe.

“So do you usually go around starting bar fights?” he said with a smug smile.

“Me?! He started it and I was defending your honor,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “You’re welcome,” you said defiantly. To your dismay, the hero let out a hearty laugh. “Hey!”

“I’m sorry. You’re right, you were very scary,” he finally got out as his laughter slowed.  

“Don’t lie,” you pouted.

“It was really cute.” He was still laughing, but you were starting to sober up.

“I said don’t lie.” Your meek voice was barely audible in the still boisterous bar. His eyes softened at your hardened expression.

“I-I wasn’t.” He was suddenly very aware of your surroundings, which was next to the line starting to form by the bathrooms. Loud chit chatter and crying coming from the ladies’ room mixed with sound of someone audibly vomiting from the men’s room was not exactly how he pictured this going down. He took your hand and started walking again.

“Ugh, where are we going now? Our friends are still there,” you groaned. Friends. Why was that word so easy for you, yet rolled off his tongue like sand paper?

“We can go back inside in a minute, but I want to talk.” He’d led you out the backdoor of the bar. You looked around, clearly confused.

“Dude, what is happening?”

“I couldn’t hear you in there and we were next to the bathrooms.”

“So you dragged me out to an alleyway next to a literal dumpster. Got it.” He looked around just to check if you were correct, which unfortunately, you were.

You couldn’t be serious with each other if you tried. Snorts and stifled giggles filled the alley, overpowering the dull bass from inside.

“I guess I really know how to set the mood, huh.” He scratched the back of his head, admiring the scenery.

“I didn’t know there was a mood to be set.” Your tone was inquisitive, free of judgement. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? You’ve been acting weird all night.”

Hawks took a deep breath, trying to gather his growing nerves. But he was a coward who’d rather fly into a burning building than share his feelings so he deflected.

“You said you were going to tell me a secret in there. What was it?”

Your felt your cheeks immediately burn. The liquid courage you had before was wearing off so you volleyed back.

“You have to tell me a secret first,” you said defensively. Hawks rolled his eyes.

“I’ve already told you two secrets tonight, you just weren’t paying attention.”

“Like wha- oh.” You brought a hand to your mouth to cover the audible gasp that left your lips. You wondered if Hawks was embarrassed. If he was, he hid it well under the guise of a knowing smirk. It was at that moment you noticed how his gilded eyes shone spectacularly under the dim glow of the nearby streetlamp. Perhaps the embarrassment, if any, was also pacified by how clearly flustered you were by the culmination of all that had transpired in the last 24 hours. You crossed your arms. “Well… I still need one more secret from you.”

“Wow, three for the price of one? Now you’re just overselling it.” He stopped teasing when he saw you pouting again. Not a playful pout, but the kind that made it look like you were about to break. He never thought of you as fragile before. He grabbed your hand, averting his gaze.

“You have to promise to keep it a secret, ok?” You nodded, squeezing his hand for reassurance.

“I promise.” He took a deep breath, finally gathering the courage to look you in the eyes again.

“Keigo.”

“What?”

“Keigo,” he said again. “Keigo Takami. That’s my real name.” Your eyes widened in horror realizing you’d made him compromise his own security. You frantically began scanning your surroundings for any unintentional witnesses. He grabbed your shoulders to steady you.

“Oh my god, Hawks, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to –“

“Shhhh it’s ok there’s no one else around. You didn’t force me, I want you to know. Please, call me Keigo.” He watched the rise and fall of your chest, trying to monitor your labored breathing. Again, this was not going as planned. Not that he really had a plan to begin with. But even if he did, causing you to go into cardiac arrest surely was not on the list. Your breath finally started to slow.

“Keigo,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. You liked the way his name felt on your tongue, so you said it again. “Keigo.”

He tried to suppress a smile, watching how the corners of your lips tugged upwards. His hand, seemingly acting on its own, stroked your hair as he continued to sooth you.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” which was another way to say he’d never heard a more beautiful sound in his life than his real name falling from your lips.

He tried to lighten the mood, not wanting to cause you any more distress than he already had over the course of the night.

“Not to brag, but this better be one hell of a secret ‘cause–“

He didn’t get to finish the sentence. You grabbed him by the collar to bring his lips to yours in a messy, fervent kiss that took his breath away but was over in the blink of an eye before he could act or process.  

You pushed him away slightly as you caught your breath, looking just as surprised as he was about the whole ordeal.   

“I-I’m sorry I should’ve asked –“

He crashed into you as he held both sides of your face, afraid you may float away if that beautiful mind of yours started to overthink as it often did. The force knocked you into the building behind you, but you didn’t mind. Wandering hands traveled over each other’s bodies, both eager to explore foreign skin. Your tongues danced in unison as you body tingled under his erratic touch, grabbing your arms, back, hips, waist, hair, whatever he could hold onto unable to stay in one place for long.

You couldn’t stop your own hands from feeling the muscles you’d watched from afar for so long, enjoying the ripple of his abs, the sturdiness of his chest, finally landing around his neck. You pulled him impossibly closer, spiteful of the little space that still separated you. His wings protectively caged around you, shielding any prying eyes from your compromising position.

In an extraordinary display of restraint he kept a hand on your ribcage, his fingers delicately ghosting the band of your bra over your clothes, his intent clear but never crossing boundaries. You smiled into the kiss deciding to take advantage of the new privacy as you placed your hand over his to guide it to its true destination. He let out a groan that reverberated against your lips as he squeezed the soft flesh under him, still in disbelief that he should be so lucky to experience all that had only existed in his imagination. He swallowed the soft moan you let out when he grazed his thumb over your sensitive nipple that peaked through the fabric of your top. You rolled your hips forward desperate for friction, and he eagerly returned the favor. You gasped at the feeling of his bulge against your pelvis, which you realized was the first time you’d come up for air since you locked lips.   

His mouth traveled down your neck until he found a sweet spot that made you squirm. Your hand also made its way south, but your path was halted by his calloused hand when you reached the waistband of his pants. Hawks might fuck you in an alleyway outside a bar, but Keigo wanted to build you the softest nest to lay you on because you deserved nothing less.

He nuzzled his face into the crook of you neck as his other hand drew little circles on the small of your back.

“Technically… that wasn’t a secret,” he whispered into your skin. Your chests rattled against one another as laughter escaped your lungs.

“You’re an ass,” you said through fits of giggles. He nipped a little more at your neck, encouraging you on. “If you’re going to make me say it… I wanted to kiss you. Tonight. And last night. And the day before that. And the week before that. And –“

He kissed you once more to cut you off, but this time it was sweet and soft. It made you feel calm and centered. So when he pulled away, you decided to share more.

“Can I tell you another secret?”

“If it’s anything like the first one, absolutely.” He brought your captured wrist to his mouth, leaving a trail of small kisses over your hand. Your heartbeat that finally started to slow picked right back up.

“I’ve never flown before.” You not-so-subtly glanced at his wings before looking back at him, eyebrow raised. He gave you a wicked grin.

“Yeah I can give you a ride little bird. Not to be presumptuous, but uh… your place or mine?” You pretended to think hard about the proposition.

“Hmm. I’d say appropriately-sumptuous, and… dealer’s choice.” Hawks had found his way to your neck again which made thinking straight quite difficult, but you persisted nonetheless. “Though… maybe we go back inside and table this for another hour. I feel bad leaving without saying goodbye.”

Hawks moved up the column of you neck until his breath was in your ear.

“I’m gonna go on a limb and say, I think it would make the birthday boy very happy if we didn’t.” Despite the blush that crept to your cheeks knowing you may be the subject of workplace gossip tomorrow, your core clenched in anticipation at his words. The hero could tell from your dazed expression that it was time to go. That was, at least, until the walkie-talkie in your purse went off again.

*beep* “Code blue, y/n where are you? Over.” *beep*

You could see his sails deflate when you pulled out the device, assuming once again that his plans were foiled. Not one to put up a fight, he moved towards the door to reunite with everyone. But you didn’t budge, squeezing his hand to hold him in place. He watched closely as your other hand brought the walkie-talkie to your mouth. The playful twinkle in your eyes told him all he needed to know.

“The eagle has landed in the nest. Over.” *beep*