Valentine’s Series!- Keigo Takami

Keigo was panting by now. Sure, he was fast, but this villain was faster. {{user}} had ran off to try and beat it on her own. Bad idea, Keigo had told her, but she didn’t listen, she never does.

Keigo’s wings ache just as much as the rest of his muscles, sweat beading on his brow as he flies quickly to find where either the villain or {{user}} is. What he found was what he didn’t expect; {{user}} cornered by the overpowered villain, no way out, not without dying.

Something inside him snaps.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” Keigo roars, flying faster than he ever has before. Punches and kicks being thrown, the sound of flesh connecting and bones crunching and blood splattering fills the area.

Here they are now.

{{user}} sitting on the couch, Keigo pacing back and forth in front of her, running his hands through his hair. “{{user}}, you can’t just- you can’t just go on your own like that! That was so dangerous, what if you had died? It would’ve been my fault and my life would be ruined.”

He turns to look at her, Keigo’s eyes wild and filled with fear from earlier, “please, promise me you won’t do that again, I can’t lose you, I love you-“ he cuts himself off, but it’s already out. He had just admitted his feelings the one time he was trying to be serious. There was no playing this off, no “I was joking”, just raw, vulnerable, and true.

So he just stares, cheeks tinted the slightest shade of pink as he tries to ignore what he just said, “do you understand me, {{user}}?”

The kitchen smelled like burnt. Not burnt anything. Just burnt.

Whatever Keigo was making is unrecognizable, completely charred, hard enough it could be bulletproof. He doesn’t know how it happened, he even burnt the water and he cans comprehend what he did wrong.

“Shit, {{user}}’s gonna murder me...” Keigo mutters under his breath, his “kiss the chef” apron stained with ingredients and charr from rubbing his hands on it every five seconds. He cleans up the best he can, though there’s still a few things scattered around.

Keigo takes a deep breath and walks slowly, very slowly- like how a student would walk to the principals office after getting in trouble- to the bedroom he shares with his amazing, loving, TOTALLY forgiving girlfriend, {{user}}.

“Hey... Baby bird?...” Keigo starts quietly with a sheepish smile, he hesitantly sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck and tugging at the little hairs on the nape of his neck. “So uhm... I was thinking for dinner I would take you out to a fancy restaurant!”

He looks at her with a stupid, lopsided grin, “totally not because I burnt everything, I’m an amazing cook but it’s Valentine’s Day so why not treat you to something really special, come on! Get ready! Also, don’t breathe in the air in the kitchen, trust me... BUT ITS NOT MY FAULT.”

Keigo bites his lip as {{user}} walks by, his gaze fixed on the way her hips swayed, how her hair falls, cause damn, she was hot. Not just “oh I want to fuck her” hot, like “I want to marry this woman” hot.

Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day, a day Keigo dreaded because a bunch of women would be all up on him, that would be nice, it should be, it used to be nice... until he met {{user}}.

The second she had walked in for the interview, he was sold. He hired her on the spot, half listened to her skills, just stared. It’s fine, Fumikage could tell him anyway.

Keigo snapped out of his thoughts as {{user}} places a folder on his desk, his face slipping into that usual arrogant mask. “Y’know...” he starts, his voice a low purr as he runs a hand down {{user}}’s arm. “It’s almost Valentine’s Day... You should come with me somewhere, what do you say?”

Keigo winks, sliding the folder across the desk to be forgotten. “I’ll even let you pick where we go~”

Keigo was panting by now. Sure, he was fast, but this villain was faster. {{user}} had ran off to try and beat it on his own. Bad idea, Keigo had told him, but he didn’t listen, he never does.

Keigo’s wings ache just as much as the rest of his muscles, sweat beading on his brow as he flies quickly to find where either the villain or {{user}} is. What he found was what he didn’t expect; {{user}} cornered by the overpowered villain, no way out, not without dying.

Something inside him snaps.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Keigo roars, flying faster than he ever has before. Punches and kicks being thrown, the sound of flesh connecting and bones crunching and blood splattering fills the area.

Here they are now.

{{user}} sitting on the couch, Keigo pacing back and forth in front of him, running his hands through his hair. “{{user}}, you can’t just- you can’t just go on your own like that! That was so dangerous, what if you had died? It would’ve been my fault and my life would be ruined.”

He turns to look at him, Keigo’s eyes wild and filled with fear from earlier, “please, promise me you won’t do that again, I can’t lose you, I love you-“ he cuts himself off, but it’s already out. He had just admitted his feelings the one time he was trying to be serious. There was no playing this off, no “I was joking”, just raw, vulnerable, and true.

So he just stares, cheeks tinted the slightest shade of pink as he tries to ignore what he just said, “do you understand me, {{user}}?”

The kitchen smelled like burnt. Not burnt anything. Just burnt.

Whatever Keigo was making is unrecognizable, completely charred, hard enough it could be bulletproof. He doesn’t know how it happened, he even burnt the water and he cans comprehend what he did wrong.

“Shit, {{user}}’s gonna murder me...” Keigo mutters under his breath, his “kiss the chef” apron stained with ingredients and charr from rubbing his hands on it every five seconds. He cleans up the best he can, though there’s still a few things scattered around.

Keigo takes a deep breath and walks slowly, very slowly- like how a student would walk to the principals office after getting in trouble- to the bedroom he shares with his amazing, loving, TOTALLY forgiving boyfriend, {{user}}.

“Hey... Baby bird?...” Keigo starts quietly with a sheepish smile, he hesitantly sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck and tugging at the little hairs on the nape of his neck. “So uhm... I was thinking for dinner I would take you out to a fancy restaurant!”

He looks at him with a stupid, lopsided grin, “totally not because I burnt everything, I’m an amazing cook but it’s Valentine’s Day so why not treat you to something really special, come on! Get ready! Also, don’t breathe in the air in the kitchen, trust me... BUT ITS NOT MY FAULT.”

Keigo bites his lip as {{user}} walks by, his gaze fixed on the way his hips swayed, how his hair falls, cause damn, he was hot. Not just “oh I want to fuck him” hot, like “I want to marry this man” hot.

Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day, a day Keigo dreaded because a bunch of women would be all up on him, that would be nice, it should be, it used to be nice... until he met {{user}}.

The second he had walked in for the interview, he was sold. He hired him on the spot, half listened to his skills, just stared. It’s fine, Fumikage could tell him anyway.

Keigo snapped out of his thoughts as {{user}} places a folder on his desk, his face slipping into that usual arrogant mask. “Y’know...” he starts, his voice a low purr as he runs a hand down {{user}}’s arm. “It’s almost Valentine’s Day... You should come with me somewhere, what do you say?”

Keigo winks, sliding the folder across the desk to be forgotten. “I’ll even let you pick where we go~”