Boku No Hero Academia One Shots [Book 2]

Keigo Takami ღ Hawks

Rooted to the ground by tight and unwavering, yet invisible vines, Hawks could trace your teasing movements only with panicked eyes. With the visor discarded, accessibility to his face had drastically improved - this was exactly the ecstasy-induced moment you had so dreamed of. The man, from all appearances, failed magnificently to veil the terror which crept like the Reaper into those gorgeous hazels and quivering lips. It was an entirely unexpected emotion, perhaps originating from the fact that you were seemingly unaffected by the presence of the Number One Hero. Rather than sparing even a single glance towards the flaming gorilla, you instead immediately approached Hawks.

Caressing his stained cheek with feather-light touches, you gushed, "I saw how easily you defeated our Nomu! Watching you fight got me so excited - I just had to meet you!"

Typically, such comments would be greeted with hearty laughter, and then promptly buried underneath all his other obligations. However, an all-encompassing, homely warmth flickered from your fingertips, igniting and amplifying every miniscule feeling of arousal within him. Despite the delicate ghost-touches refusing to abandon his cheeks, that fiery sensation of combined lust and terror plunged forth into his deepest crevices, providing the usually-collected blonde with an ungodly erection. The greatest compromise his body was willing to make, apparently, was to slowly cross one leg in front of the other, partially shielding his ever-tightening crotch area from view. A groan of frustration, perhaps even desperation, attempted to escape those luscious-looking lips, yet a devious force repelled it.

Whether by hallucination or simply pure fear, Hawks' widened axinites glimpsed a forbidding wooden chest, secured with both padlock and chains. He supposed that it must be the final resting place of his heart, for neither light nor air could permeate, and the container was far too small for an entire human cadaver. As he gazed further into your irises, the monotony of screams and hasty footsteps died out. Nothing could encapsulate his thundering heart more in that moment, than your otherworldly beauty. Distinctly, he recognised the next sequence of events in a slowed-down reality, savouring each second after your lips collided. He didn't - he couldn't - bother about the TV crews, still stationed around the area. His mind failed to recall the pro hero standing beside him. Nothing could possibly cheapen the kiss you bestowed upon his lips; even Sleeping Beauty's prince would have been ashamed, as his mediocre kissing surely couldn't be compared to that which was so, incredibly masterful.

Coaxing Hawks' tongue out to dance, to enjoy the beautiful symphony that became of your moans, a hand slithered around his neck, holding him in place. This, you had desired for an eternity - perhaps longer. The moment was frightfully perfect, and everything else just seemed to fade away, into a sea of nothingness. In a matter of seconds, the lip-embrace exploded with an unparalleled passion, wherein you dipped Hawks' head slightly, purely for show. You didn't care in the least for his reputation; as long as he crawled back into your palm, willingly, you would achieve your greatest desire.

A sly squeeze to his clothed cock signalled the finale of your epic, televised make-out session. You released the panting blonde, watching until that single string of saliva, connecting your lips, was finally severed. Planting another, more demure kiss on his cheek, which crackled like an ebbing fire, you smiled.

"It was lovely to meet you, after so many sleepless nights!" You cooed, obviously fuelled by his confused, and slightly conflicted, expressions. 

"Well...I'll leave for now, I guess, but I'll be back to properly claim you, sometime soon! Watch your back, little bird! ~"

As your form disappeared amongst the smoke and flame, the spell both grounding his feet and delivering his heart to Nirvana, broke. His feathers ruffled, then collapsed around him. It would be utterly deplorable, to show his crimson-painted face to the world. Gently, he touched the cheek which your lips had claimed, outlining the still-crackling, kiss-shaped brand you had imprinted upon him. The beating of his heart grew even more intense. Giving something so important to a foreigner, a villain, no less...

Oh, curse the fates! What devilish plan had his mind concocted? 

[Word Count: 704]