Title: Sunday Regret [Yandere Hawks X Reader]

2500 likes!

Took me 3 yearsss

Not the same person, but I really LOVED your Hawks x Winged!reader shot! Can I ask for some kind of spin off, where Hawks is looking after a reader(maybe getting their hairs done, or preening their feathers) and being very possessive about it, cooing what a cute birdie his Darling is, while reader tries not to panic because they dislike ppl touching their wings as a part of trauma? I'm sucker for yanderes being super creepy while doing generally sweet things.

Ah yes, I think every now and then everyone needs a reminder that their yandere is only doing things for them. Because they love them, right? That’s a really good point there, tehe (･ω<)☆ Exactly the reminder we all need in these times, thank you for requesting!! ♥I got a little off-request here because inspiration sometimes wants a different way than the request is, but I hope it’s still enjoyable!

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

If being bound to chains from the walls around you really was in your best interest, you had your doubts. In fact, you had your doubts about a lot of things. Like being kidnapped, held captive in a dark room, with deadbolts keeping the door shut, and presumably, underground. Yes, your wing-quirk was rare, but not to be underestimated, and if anyone knew this, then Hawks.

The only companion you had, was that damn cuckoo clock on the wall opposite from where he held you throughout the door. The sound of the - immensely funny how Hawks found - gift was something you’d never ever forget again in your whole life. How could you? It made sure you never dozed off more than an hour before tearing you out of your much prettier, much more peaceful dreams, and you despised it for it. 

But at least, it let you know about dinnertime. The only time that Hawks more or less managed to keep up routinely. He was worse with feeding you breakfast, and lunch was almost entirely canceled with the job the hero had, but for dinner - he always said - he wanted to be home. Home with his favorite nightingale for bonding and cuddles afterwards, his idea of a relationship.

Yours… not so much.

Food was something you learned to appreciate. It helped you stay sane to have something warm between your teeth, gave you some strength to wring with your captor for the space you needed afterwards. But Hawks- no, Keigo’s views on how you two should hang out, not only differed from yours but also, any you knew ‘normal’ couples did. Then again, what was normal when your partner was a madman?

As much as you resented the cuckoo for its loud, annoying screams of time, you couldn’t help but feel relieved that you’d be let down from your wall prison, able to move your wrists without the metallic clanking against your ears again. Even with two large wings, you were glad to be put back onto your feet, the strain on your wings’ roots - where they were steadied against the wall with metal chains too, becoming harder the longer you had to endure it. You tried not thinking about the fight that would break out in the morning when he demanded to put you up into chains again, believing this was nothing you should be worried right now. Because when you heard the first turn of the lock on your door, you knew you were in for more trouble than the ones still one night away.

Keigo whistled a happy tune as he pushed open the door, his slippers scrubbing over the floor while he carried in a tray of various little bowls. It seemed like typical japanese food, but you were sure there was nothing more than fast food inside. “Hello, my Dove. How’s your day been? Have you been hanging out here?” Snickering about his own joke, you learned to ignore the stupid remarks. 

You had been commendable lately, making sure to have good conversations with him and to humor his need to be close to you, aside from being a little unwilling to get back into chains every day. He at least didn’t seem mad about that, and you sometimes even thought to see the hints of pity in his eyes whenever he did what he thought he had to. So whatever you had built up with him in terms of a relationship, you didn’t want to mess it up with a useless comment when he was in quite such a good mood. 

Turning the switch on the light, the room lit up, even though the heavy curtains usually didn’t allow much light inside, and you blinked a few times to adjust to it. From his pocket, Keigo made a big show to pull out the keys to your chains, and with the hints of a thankful smile, you helped adjust your limbs to make it easy for him to reach the locks. After so many negative sounds, the clicking of them, with the following release of your arms and wings, was a delight rarely experienced by the average human, and you breathed a breath of relief to be freed of your restrains.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, ready to take careful steps towards the table in the corner of the room. However, suddenly he stepped into your field of vision, denying you an easy walk forward, instead, bringing you to a wonky halt. From his grin and open arms, you weren’t sure if he wanted something or if that was just to make you stop, but you decided against trying to pass him, watching his wings sway expectantly with more confusion on your side.

“Don’t you think I deserve a ‘welcome-home’-hug after my long day of work? I’ve been thinking about you all day long! Have you thought about me too?”

Truth be told, whatever had brought him to the conclusion that he deserved anything from you, must have been the same bug that had told him to kidnap you. But once your initial hesitation wore off, you tugged in your wings as tightly as you could to your back, before approaching him. The one-sided hug wasn’t quite what he must have envisioned when he asked for it, but the torture wasn’t long for you anyway.

You only briefly missed his eyes inspecting your wings which seemed to shift every time he moved his hands on your back, but you assured him of his question, which was enough for him to hear for now. “Yeah… Thought about you too.”

However, when you sat there for dinner, Hawks was different enough for you to notice. He was usually the one to always steal from your sparse array of chicken wings and fries, but he seemed absentminded on his chair for the duration of your meal, nibbling on some snagged bone, eyes always falling back over to your wings even when you moved them as far away from his view as possible.

“I think you chipped a feather with your struggling,” he eventually muttered as you wrapped up the bowls, thanking him for the meal. “It’s been bothering me since this morning, what if more are broken?”

You couldn’t help a worried glance over your shoulder, but of course, without spreading them and maybe a few mirrors to see the backside, you wouldn’t be able to determine if everything was okay. “Maybe you should let me take a look-” he offered, a fast hand reaching out for behind your back, but you flinched out of the way fast enough, catching his wrist just in time with a loud, “NO!”

Keigo didn’t spare you the sharp glare from below at your dismissal of his help, letting out a loud hum before retracting back to his seat. You didn’t miss a heartbeat to sit sideways on your chair, bringing your wings as far away as possible from him. “If there’s a broken feather, we need to mend it, Birdy, Darling.”

“I am sure they are fine, just a little… shuffled, yeah.”

“Mhm, I’d still like to see,” he insisted, standing up. He wasn’t a super tall figure in comparison to a lot of his colleagues, but he sure could look menacing when he hovered over you. The only good thing about it was the open space beneath his arm, that you slipped through quickly, giving yourself a mental pat for quick actions.

The only thing you didn’t consider was that Hawks always was quicker. Quicker in hunting people down, quicker in bringing them to the police, and quicker in catching you, knowing exactly what you were going for the moment your eyes fell on the open space. It had been a long time for someone to touch your wings. Even from Hawks, you had mostly kept them away, so you already had forgotten the feeling of a hand brushing into your feathers, gripping them tightly.

With a weak, panic-induced squeal, you stumbled to the side, pulling him with you as his hand held on just a bit tighter under your frantic movements. You could feel the feathers ripping from the root one after the other as he didn’t let go, your breathing picking up speed and lungs unable to handle the stress of the rapid air pouring in and out. Your hyperventilation did nothing to stop him, and with every sound of their fickle stems breaking you remembered more and more the circumstances of your upbringing.

It was just like when they had used you as a feather-maker before. The people you trusted most had regularly plucked them out to sell and make accessories for buyers, even when you bled and asked them not to. This was barely any different, especially not when Hawks clicked his tongue in annoyance the more you struggled.

Not long, and you found yourself in the stranglehold of his arm, bits of fluffy feathers falling from his hand as he finally pulled it away from your wings again, keeping you locked helplessly in his hold. “Calm down, it’s not like I want to hurt you.” There was nothing harder than to calm your racing heart and ragged breath, but you at least tried, especially when the air to breathe became thinner in his chokehold.

“Look, I found the bad boy,” he cooed, holding up his hand triumphantly to show you one long feather he had pulled out, slightly crooked at the end. Though you believed you started to see stars, clinging to his arm desperately, you nodded, quaking a ‘Thank you’ to him as best as you could.

Finally, he let you go, your body sinking to the ground, unable to hold up as every limb seemed to shiver uncontrollably. It took you a good minute to get some control over yourself again, the pain on your neck finally setting in too, and you shuddered just thinking about what just happened. But it wasn’t like Keigo ever gave you time to work through your experiences, especially not when you were so vulnerably open to him now.

You couldn’t possibly have seen his arms coming as they hooked under your shoulders, pulling you back up and over to the bed on which he sat down himself, letting your body glide to the floor. If anyone knew how to treat wings and tickle their instincts, it was Hawks, so it shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did as he drove his hand up your spine, triggering your feathers to ruffle unwillingly. Immediately, you wanted to jump away again, but with a reprimanding ‘Ah-Ah’ his legs wrung around your torso, keeping your locked in your place despite your wiggles. 

It became only worse with the feelings of his hands brushing down your ruffled feather again, spreading them over his lap to get a really good look at them. “There are so many more broken ones. We have to take care of them, you understand that, right? It will only hurt so much to lose a few for the sake of keeping you healthy, I promise.”

“No… please…” you muttered as you heard his words, noticing his fingertips combing through every feather to inspect them one by one. “Don’t be a child now, I know what I’m doing. Just be a good birdie and let me handle this, [Name].”

There was no more resisting his words, Keigo being deadset on fixing your ruined feathers, one way or another. “Take a deep breath,” he advised, and you felt the hot tears roll down your cheeks as those words reminded you of the past. Hearing you following his instructions, Keigo did a trial tug, seeing just how much you’d flinch from it before strengthening his legs around your torso, knowing it would cause a lot of stirring if he really pulled it out.

“On the count of three, my Dove.”

Bad Touch

Scumbag!Hawks | Keigo Takami x Reader

Warnings: Dubcon, Dom/Sub, Yandere themes, Dacryphilia, and Mindbreak.

Word count: 5k+

Commission for: @keilemlucent (my pal <3)​

Against your own will, you're under the care of a dangerous hero. You refuse to go along with his insane wishes. He loses his patience.

bad touch: n. alludes to being sensual with someone against their will (i.e. sexual harassment)

You have a diamond heart. You’re made of pure diamond. A magnificent gem that triumphs in toughness compared to other stones. Pressure serves no match to you, you could remain in a controlled state of panic to complete any stress-inducing task. You were a problem solver who knew how to handle things. Hurtful comments didn’t get to you. No one and nothing could crack your durable exterior.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean that you are invincible to scratches. Under ‘perfect’ conditions, a diamond can scratch and chip like a plain mirror. Place it under a steel hammer, and it’d shatter like a wine glass.

Hawks was your hammer.

You’re not broken yet. That monster of a man has at best scathed the surface of your resilience, but you can tell you’re beginning to tread on thin ice. He’s running out of patience every day you refuse to speak, glance or even regard him. He’s gone as far as to raise his voice in his attempts to mold you into an obedient ladylove. Then after he quickly tries to use the old ‘good cop bad cop’ routine, hugging you with tender holds, acting apologetic.

He seems more emotionally affected by his own actions--or, perhaps he’s just a good actor. It confused you. With the psychological mind games, you can imagine he’s a terrifying interrogator when he uses brute, physical force. Which doesn’t appear to be too far away in your future, as he constantly reminds you. Those reminders have increased in daily quantity.

Hawks has been on edge lately, quick to get angry at your ‘silliness.’ It seems that his inability to make a dent in you has frustrated him. You pride yourself on lasting this long without losing your mind, but you’re starting to fear for your safety. So far this whole kidnapping bullshit has been painless. A bit like plucking hairs; not fun, and quite exhausting.

On his end, he claims it’s a lot like pulling teeth. He’s threatened to yank out a few of yours on more than one occasion.

One of the more difficult times often occurs during dinner. He tries to feed you, and offer you every drink he has in his fridge. Buys you an array of food, from five star meals to fast food. Fresh, organic vegetables to sweet desserts to coax you into appreciating his efforts. You eat when you’re starving, for your own survival. After a while of not eating, of course you eventually gave in. You figured that as long as you continue to allow him to provide your basic necessities, you could survive. In spite of that, you knew you couldn’t have your cake and eat it too. You saw it coming. He began expecting you to display some level of affection in return for ‘keeping your belly full.’

He had wanted you to say, ‘I love you.’ You scowled and shook your head at that request. He was trying to get through whatever cracks he saw. Not wanting to allow him to break that part of your resolve, you refused any and all requests to speak. This irked him.

It became clear that he was wanting more. He started asking you to give him a kiss. Every damned meal, for breakfast, lunchtime and dinner, the bastard would ask for one. You said nothing.

Well, his recent shitty mood and your sparse advancement in cooperation has become a poor match. He’s begun to push it, and he’s not liking the resistance.

Earlier for lunch you ate some large chicken tenders, with a big glass of water. You even caved and ate the orange he offered as extra incentive for another kiss. The both of you must have noticed you were starting to show signs you were running low on Vitamin C, such as your drying skin and the slowly healing bruise you got from falling off the bed when you tried to wrestle away from his needy clutches. You only ate the orange for the sole reason that you needed it. He must have taken that as a sign you were beginning to bend to his will.

“Come on, darling. It’s cheesecake! Have you tried cheesecake before?” He’s trying hard to remain upbeat.

You stay silent.

He slides a plate of pasta over, covered with cheesy goodness and rich with olive oil. “What about this? Ah? Yeah? Smells good, don’t it?”

You say nothing at all.

“Okay, okay. You’re probably lactose intolerant, like me. I’d still eat it, but to each their own.” He breathes deeply, brushes a shaky hand through his hair, then places a bowl of ice cream with a hot brownie sitting in the middle, topped off with whipped cream. “What about some good ol’ ice cream brownie?”

A slow blink is all you give.

“Really? None of these? I’d go nuts for these.” He stares at you with a strained grin, wiggling a spoon in front of you. “You can never be too hungry…! C’mon…! Some little extra, yummy goodness for your cute belly, and all you have to do is give me a big smooch on the lips!”

Your eyes close. You can hear the metaphorical kettle in your head start to whistle.

Hawks sighs audibly, his furry brows twitching, threatening to form a frown. His wings twitch violently. “I know you think I'm mean, but I’m not trying to be!” The hero tugs on your limp arm, intertwining his fingers with yours. He puts emphasis on certain words, speaking to you as if you were a toddler. “All things considered, I think you’re being meaner than me!”

Oh, good. He’s self aware. You’re not sure if that's a good thing.

No matter. You try to ignore him.

The spoon clatters to the table. The sound causes you to flinch, your eyes snapping open to meet his glaring ones.

“...What about another orange?” His voice sounds low, his words quiet. Like he’s gritting his teeth.

You shake your head, stiff. Your eyes show terror. Your face screams hatred.

“What a waste of time, arguing with me.” He blames you, as if you didn’t want to get out of the situation. “Fine. No dessert for you. Just kiss me, damn it, so we can get you ready for bedtime.”

Scrunching your eyes, you prepare for his kiss of death. It doesn’t come. Seconds pass, your eyes peeling open to see the bastard’s disgruntled face.

“My baby, you didn’t hear me did you? Poor thing, all my yelling must have made you go hard of hearing…” He says with such sincerity, it’s hard to distinguish if it’s sarcasm. “Let me repeat myself… Ahem. I said, kiss me so that we can get you into bed.”

Bullshit. You frown at him. He’s supposed to kiss you. You’ll tolerate nothing else.

“Just one kiss. That’s all I’m asking for…!” He’s seething silently.

As he expects, you do nothing.

As you should have expected, he grabs you by the neck and slams your head down into the table. The side of your face collides heavily with the surface of the table, your head bouncing, ricocheting off it like a plastic ball. The recoil from the impact felt a lot like whiplash. You’re paralyzed in shock, sudden pain and fear crippling you from any movement or thought.

You want to cry out in agony, curse at him for being an utter, deplorable demon.

Instead, you sit tharn while the hum of white noise fills your ears. You struggle to spur yourself from your petrification.

“I’ll take your silence as your surrender...” He half smiles-half glowers at you. “Are you going to do as you’re told, or do I need to do that again...?”

The room is spinning, double vision slowly fading. A single, quick head slam. Such power in it. Your cheek burns, throbbing with hurt. Your head feels like it’s going to burst. You don’t think you take another one without passing out. So very slowly, you manage to shake your head up and down.

“Look at that. Much faster results.” He pets the back of your head, bringing his face close to yours. It’s clear in his now softer voice and eyes he’s feeling somewhat remorseful. Though it’s also likely it’s just part of a deceptive act.

Your lip quivers.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to do that… You left me no choice! Come here, poor baby… Kiss me, and I’ll make it all go away.”

You have no choice. You don’t want to experience that awful pain again, neither do you want to fall unconscious. If he’s reached as far as to hurt you, there’s no telling what else he’d do. Suppressing the vomit in the back of your throat, you frailly offer your trembling lips to him.

Immediately, he beams with happiness. There’s a smug smile on his dastardly, ruggish face. He doesn’t spare you the torment of closing the gap himself, however. You're truly forced to go all the way. It takes all the spirit you can muster to put your own lips on his, you feel like you’re doing a horrible thing. Committing a crime. Once your lips graze his, you’re dirty. You want to wipe your entire face off, right in front of him so he knows how much you despise it.

Then the tip of his tongue touches yours. You lurch back, an instinctive move that couldn't have been prevented even if you tried.

He looks unhappy. “Now, now, little feather…”

His hand moves a fraction of an inch towards you. You can’t stop yourself. You speak.

“Don’t…” you cheep.

There’s a mixture of emotion in Hawks’ expression. Shock, confusion. Even pride. His feathers are sticking up, shifting around in excitement. The ends of his lips round upwards into another cutthroat smile. “...What was that?”

What a nonsensical thing for him to say. You hear him listening to recordings of you all day. No matter. He’s clawed his way in, and dragged you out. Your dignity was all you had left, a teaspoon of which remained. A teaspoon of which you were about to feed him.

He scooches closer, to your dismay. “There's that sweet, musical voice I missed so much! Go on, repeat it!”

You know damn well he heard what you said. He has the best hearing on this planet, he just wants more power of you, the greedy bastard. You hate him. You hate yourself for being afraid of him.

He leans back, tapping his chiseled, scruffed chin with a finger. “...Alright. I feel like it was a bit too harsh... I’m sorry, baby. Do you want to go to bed?”

You nod.

“Okay, sweetie,” he says softly, kissing you on the forehead.

You don’t understand him. You’ll never understand him. He’s bargaining with you, mentally. Playing mind games with you, controlling you with fear and making you feel safe with kindness. You’re caught between wanting to play this game with him for the sake of staying free from his wrath, and trying to gain back your resolve. You know, though, that once this devil of a man has a taste of what he wants--he will never stop.

Your options are limited. You think about them all night long. You can’t sleep. You’re too scared for the future. Today was a turning point, the tides are in his favor. He’s found a way to get to you. He’s not afraid to get ugly anymore.

You haven’t given up yet. If you’re smart enough, you can turn this around. You saw a flicker of regret in his eyes.

You can beat him at his own game. At the very least, you’ll try.

Things have changed a lot since he first hurt you. It’s been quite a while since then, too.

Your plan failed. Although he never said anything to show it, he saw you through your plan to psychologically manipulate him. You should’ve known better.

You’d feign innocence and panic, hoping to string out some sort of sympathy from him. Get him while his guard was down, guilt him into not being forceful with you. Instead of backing down like you’d hope he would, he’d lose his goddamn mind. Shake you around some, yank at your hair, grab you by the upper so hard there’s a mild indentation now. Verbal abuse was common, condescension spat left and right. His reactions were unprecedented. Completely unforeseen. He’d become a scourge in the cruelest sense of the word.

Eventually, your acts of apprehension and fear slowly became reality. They weren’t a planned, tactical form of manipulation anymore, you were fucking scared.

He only returned to his sweeter self when you behaved. After you yielded to him. After he wore you down enough to get inside you, defiling you. He commended you, cooed at you for being ‘such a good girl,’ You didn’t let it bother you so much because you’d go insane if you did. Things went way smoother that way. It revolted you how easily you were changing to fit his mood. Your reasoning was, well... In the simplest words, if the devil was happy, he wasn’t angry. If the devil wasn’t angry, he wouldn’t hurt you. You didn’t like to get hurt. So you keep him happy.

You stopped trying to make sense of anything. If anything, you stopped caring. The deeper you thought about it, the more you felt bad for yourself. The more it made your head hurt.

Headaches were kind of like your superpower, however. You began to develop an innate sense of when Hawks was getting frustrated with you. Whenever you got that sense that he was a tad titulated, you got worried. You could tell by the shift in the atmosphere. His face sometimes, too; lidded, sharp eyes that expected your attention. The stress would make your head pound. Once that tension would come rushing to your head, you knew to stay on the defense. You were to do as he says with as little retaliation as possible. Your headache would leave once your gut told you he was… satisfied?

It was unfortunate that the headache you had now was one of the worst you’ve felt.

Today, he was having a bad day playing hero. Bunch of punks scuffed his leather boots, gave him a hard time so he says. He’s angry as Hell, your sense tells you.

“I’m tellin’ you, sweet thing, today was just the worst…” he complains with a cruel smile. “Why don’t you get on your knees for me and help me relieve some of my stress…?”

Your knees are weak, unsteady. You don’t want to stand up.

You wanted to tell him he was rattling you. If he’s going to use you while he’s angry, he’s going to be vicious. You remember the last time he fucked you for some stress relief. He was rough with you, and you were in so much pain for days. That’s not fair to you. You’ve done everything he’s asked. You’ve eaten his meals, given him attention, showered him affection. He’s supposed to be kind.

“He leans over your shoulder, wings unfolding behind his back, casting a dark shadow over you. “Sweetie. When I tell you to do something, you shouldn't dawdle. You’re not a child.”

Ironic for him to say that, considering how much he treats you like one.

“Please…” The word comes out as an undertone.

“Hm?” His pupils widen.

“Please don’t be mean…” you plead, lowering your head.

“Awwoh, cutie... You don’t like it when Hawks is scary?” he purrs at you, brushing his hand over your cheek.

Your hand curls around his wrist, begging for mercy. “Don’t be rough… Please...”

His boisterous laugh makes you flinch. “Don’t be rough, you say... Scared of a little pain? Don’t you want your lover to feel good, to feel better?”

Your head is spinning. You cannot even begin to grasp what he’s saying.

He lifts you off the chair, kicking it away. “Tough. Patience is for chumps, kiddo. I need that mouth of yours.”

You’re forced on your knees, your face inches away from his pelvis. To your surprise, he doesn’t have a hard-on yet.

He begins taking off his belt, the clinking painful to your ears. His wings are spread out, almost to their full length. Maybe he’s trying to intimate you further, one of his predatory instincts. With wings like his, he’s more demon than human or animal.

You like to think he truly is a monster.

Belt removed, a pair of ruby feathers take it to the chair. He places his hands on his svelte hips, waiting. His teeth peek out from his smile, watching the realization build on your shy face.

“Meager as always, aren’t we?” he chuckles darkly. “You know I like it when you take it out…”

No, he just likes watching your hands shake as you raise them to unbutton his cargo trousers. To humiliate you further, he juts his hips out more, his growing bulge bumping the tip of your nose. You don’t dare grimace, knowing he’d only do it again to spite you.

“Alright, that’s enough.” His pants pulled down enough to his liking, it bunches at the midway of his hips. Not too low that it sags uncomfortably, not too high that it would make it difficult for you to take out his ever growing erection.

It’s nothing new, his choice of briefs. Pure black as his near-slit like pupils, with golden ‘H’s’ printed over the material from the front to the back. To wear one’s own branded underwear, it’s a obvious sign of how full of themselves they can be. Hawks’ never-ending display of egotism could set world records, a feat you know he’d be proud of.

“Go on, sweetheart… Don’t tell me you aren’t dying to get a taste of me?” He shoves your face into him, rubbing himself around your mouth.

The heavy scent of his musk can’t be contained by his briefs. It goes right up your nostrils, loosening a few screws in your head. Every time you got a whiff of his natural smell of arousal, your sense of autonomy seemed to fade. An indescribable feeling, being mentally held hostage. It was bad enough he psychologically gnawed at what was left of your once strong mind, it was in his damned biology to do it. Aware of your own thoughts and actions, your body still reacts according to what registered in your mind, hormones taking control. As involuntary arousal heightens, your body began sending off hormones to feed him.

Pheromones colliding, it seemed the same was happening to him. His aggressive nature instigated, coupled with his ‘bad day,’ he was already being rough with you. Stuffing your face full of his clothed cock, he made sure you could feel him throbbing, pressing the length of his dick so hard against your nose it was painful.

“Mmmm, hahaha… I like that look on your face. You look like you want to cry, it’s cute,” he says, tilting your head back to get a good look at your expression. “What’s the matter, baby? Am I smothering you with too much cock? It ain’t even out yet!”

You take a deep breath.

His hands come around the back of your head, keeping you close to his pelvis to prevent you from backing away. “Pull ‘em down. Use your teeth.”

It takes a lot of effort on your end to pull them down enough, the waistband so tight it snaps from your teeth a few times. He praises your effort in the most praise-less way possible, letting his fat, engorged cock smack your face. It sticks to your face like a wet sock, his balls hitting your chin with a slight sway.

His scent is so powerful. He’s awful, chuckling at your whimpers as he unsticks his cock.

Your lower lip trembles, your eyes watery.

Oh. That grabs his attention.

“Do my eyes deceive me? Is… Is my baby girl getting teary-eyed?”

Hawks stares at your eyes as if they were long, lost jewels. He’s never seen you cry before. He’s never made you cry before. His cock spurts precum at that. He liked making you cry. Those were long awaited tears he never knew he was waiting for.

“Now that… makes me horny.” He growls, keeping one hand on the back of your head and the other to guide his dick into your mouth.

His sadistic pleasure in your tears, knowing he’s going to destroy your mouth with no pity… it brings to tears. You sniff and sob as his cock fills your mouth, your quiet cries stifled.

His cock doesn’t make it too far in, the length of him not easy to swallow. You cough, your gag reflex kicking in. He pushes in, but you fight against him. One buck of his hips, and you retch violently around him. He lets up only an inch, groaning at the way you sputter around him. Additional tears run down your cheeks, forming from your gagging.

“Suck this dick like a good girl…” He thrusts his hips in and out of your mouth, desperately wanting to get deeper. He moans and flaps his wings gently, enjoying the sloppy sounds of you choking on him. “I love feeling the roof of your mouth, but I wanna feel your throat.”

Unpitying, the bastard urges you to take more. The constant forcefulness eventually causes your throat to ease up, allowing you to deepthroat him. Your sinuses open up, your nose runny and burning. His balls make messy claps against your chin, foamy saliva clinging to them.

“That’s it, pretty girl, mmmm…” he grunts, speeding his thrusts up. “You keep that throat open, keep those tears coming…! You don't wanna be baaad, do you?”

He demands you to keep choking on him. There’s no choice in the matter, unless you want to die choking on a big dick that insists on reaching the back of your throat--and it does. You close your eyes from the pressure, until Hawks taps on your temple with a finger.

“I said, keep those tears coming! I want to see those precious, wet eyes…” He coos cruelly.

Your watery eyes, streaming hot tears, connect with his. His eyes are squinted, perhaps from focus. The sharp, black markings around his inner and outer canthi give them a more keen mien. He reads your intimidated demeanor like an open book, taking pleasure once more in his power over you. He’s a scumbag and he knows it.

But he also smells the arousal coming from your inner thighs.

Your torture stops. His cock is removed from your throat rather quickly. You’re left dizzy and nauseous, the familiar mist of horny fully clouding your thoughts. Wobbly from what was practically asphyxiation, you collapse onto your forearms in a slight daze. You use the short time to wipe away the tears smearing your vision. Rustling sounds grab your attention right after, somewhere behind you. You don’t get a chance to see what’s happening. You feel it, instead.

Hawks is downright nude. He’s mounting you like an animal mounting his mate, his smooth chest pressing on your back. His heavy cock is jabbing your clothed mouth as if it has a mind of its own, seeking the warmth of your wet, gooey cunt.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, darling, they’re such a nuisance.”

He grabs the bottom of your shirt, yanking it over your head gracelessly. It gets stuck over your head, under your neck. You wonder if he’s going to purposely leave it, which you wouldn’t mind. Better than having to see his rotten face.

Sadly, he gives it a good tug, removing your safe haven. Your pants, too, come off. He’s not gentle with those either, peeling them off like you would with a doll. Manhandling you with no regard. Though, you suppose that’s just how Hawks views you. His little plaything that he adores.

Once again, you’re stuck between a hammer and anvil. You foresee a very brutal fucking. The throat fucking you barely survived was just the tip of the iceburg. Your brain is more or less on autopilot, but you’re paralyzed. A similar state in animals is often referred to as ‘tonic immobility,’ a last resort little critters such as rabbits use when they find themselves in inescapable danger. Almost like playing dead. Even if you did try to fight him you’d end up in a world of hurt, so perhaps deep down you’re simply sensible enough. It’s best to let nature run its course.

“You’ve gotten so good at following directions, baby feather…” He observes your quiet stance on all fours. “You really wanna be a good little girl and take Hawks’ pounding!”

In a way.

He mounts you once more, assuming his vulgar position on top of you. Cock wagging, bobbing up and down, its slick head bumps your leaky folds. His hand wraps around the base, ushering it to line up where he wants it.

You keen as the head breaches your pussy with a squelch, a sound Hawks moans at. He’s big, trying to force himself in despite the clear resistance. His hands latch onto your hips, dragging you down and back to impale you on his dick. Your walls give and widen to let him in, his cock sheathing to the hilt. You gasp from the fullness, he groans from the tightness.

Your nails dig deep into the floorboards, a sad attempt to anchor yourself. You keep your sights on the floor, staring at your shadows. The bastard’s giant wings look humongous, giving your shadows an ugly, deformed shape. Like a biblical figure of sorts, with blood-dipped feathers raining down.

“You take ol’ Hawks’ cock soooo damn well, don’t you, baby girl?” his breath is ragged in your ears, his chin tickling your neck.

You’re shaking, tears pricking the corner of your eyes for the second time. “Mercy…”

He ignores you, focusing on your body’s grateful clenches. Adjusting his knees, widening your knees apart more, he begins moving his hips rapidly. A short brief period of slow thrusts quickly turned into a pounding. Every drive into you brings your head close to the ground, your hands almost unable to keep you upright. If it weren’t for his raptor grip on your sides, you’d surely bang your forehead. His cock hits your gummy cervix with each thrust, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. With how hard he was pummeling past your poor walls, you’d think he was trying to burst past it.

“God damn, I needed this… I needed this so bad.” He pants, his tongue unfurling like a dog’s. His wings, fluttery and uncurled, twitch wildly behind him.

Jostling your innards shouldn’t feel as good as it does. You can’t deny that Hawks isn’t good at fucking, but he’s definitly selfisn about it. He can also be vile when he wants to, gets a kick out of it sometimes. It’s nasty and agonizing--but it beats getting choked out until you submit.

Your body can’t take it anymore. Your arms become too weak, too sore to hold up your upper half. You end up slouching forward, in a downward dog position. With the side of your face on the floor, you’re getting a mild burn on your cheek from the friction. He feels bigger like this, and has better control in angling his thrusts.

You let him have his way. Hawks seems to like the change in position. He rambles about how wet you are, how good you feel with your ass up in the air. He wants more however, and moves one of his legs up beside you This way, he has an even deeper reach. By now, your cervix must be bruised. Taking hit after hit, serving as a tender cushion for his cock. He brushes past your sweet spot though, after so long. You wonder if he’s always known where it is, and he just chooses to be an asshole.

You let out a strained mewl, blinking away tears that your captor laps up.

“What’s that, baby feather? You’re close?” He avoids hitting your cervix, hitting your special spot with vigor. “This where you like it? Yeah, I can tell by the way you clench… I can fucking feel that...”

His balls, rounded with his seed, hit your clit more frequently. His pace speeds up, your creamy cunt constricting him most pleasurably. The gluttonous pig only lets you have your end when he’s close to his.

“Tell your hero when you’re close, sweetheart…” he groans deep into your ear, huffing. “Because I’m about to blow my fuckin’ load. An’ I’m not in the mood to help you reach it after I’m spent!”

You’re gasping for air, crushed under his weight. Draping over your shoulders are his massive wings, a blanket you didn’t need when you were already hot and sweaty. They don't stay there for long, they lift up and flap intermittently. You take this as a sign that he’s indeed very close.

His efforts increase, until he’s essentially fucking you into the floor. He brings a hand over to your clit, rubbing it with his fingers furiously. You yelp, jerking under him from the overstimulation. Nothing but cock on your mind, you announce how close you are to your orgasm. It doesn’t matter, you cum immediately. What surprises you the most is how you cum; you’re squirting, creating a pool of clear liquid underneath you.

“Ohhoho, that’s a funny sensation…!! Fuck, that’s so hot--hahh… Hahh, fuck, I’m coming! I’m coming, baby, you’re gonna take my cum you sweet angel--!” His ramblings are cut short. A gush of his semen shoots into you, taking hold in the deep pockets of your puny cunt. Leftovers spew out, joining your mess on the floor.

He pulls out, allowing a mixture of fluids to pour out. His fat cock acted like a plug, keeping everything inside you. He hums to himself, eyeing the nice little creampie he gave you.

“Now that… is how you make a man happy.” He slumps down on the ground, laying on his side.

You lay on your side as well, depleted of all energy. You stare at the puddle of cum on the floor, a mess you’d be the one to clean.

You’re suddenly pulled towards him, into his hold. You remain limp, not bothering to speak either. You have no words, you never do.

“See? You were making such a damned fuss, yet you took me like a champ! Maybe we should fuck like that all the time… Like animals.”

You shudder.

🍰Todoroki/Fem Reader SFW & NSFW Headcannons

Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+; continue scrolling or block if you’re not into this

Warnings; cursing, making out, Shouto is a champ at eating pussy (he has a tongue ring in this), ass eating, vaginal fingering, small bit of spanking, Shouto is a little bit subby in this (his moans & some of the things he says), dirty talk, Shouto has a bit of a praise kink, Shouto holds your hands behind your back when you ride him😮‍💨

Authors Note; sorry if this is too long- I had to complete the headcannons for my favorite three MHA boys sooner rather than later. I love Shouto, he deserves all the good things and a lot of hugs. Hope you all enjoy these headcannons as much as I enjoyed writing them- if anyone would like a specific MHA character or someone from a different anime, feel free to DM me💕

Shouto who comes off as cold, uninterested, maybe a bit of a dick, but who is actually so sweet & so loving, who is actually the kind of person that writes down facts about you so he doesn’t forget them (you found the list in his notes app—you definitely cried), who always buys extra of what he’s eating —so you can have some too (even if you said you weren’t hungry)

Shouto who doesn’t get social cues very well, who tilts his head when he’s confused, who wears a blank, spaced out expression on his face often, who lets you teach him how to read the room a bit easier, whose smile could actually melt ice with its warmth (Shouto makes the most facial expressions when he’s with you— you take that as a win)

Shouto who you met in high school, but weren’t really friends with— or dated until after you all graduated, who you crossed paths with while battling a villain, who you caught mid air when he was falling from the top of a building, on the verge of passing out (he says he swears he saw you with a halo, because he fell in love with an Angel that day)

Shouto who loves to drink strawberry milk, who has so many cartons cluttering the fridge in your home, who also brings you a glass when he’s drinking some, because he’s learned he can also show you he loves you by sharing what he likes with you (you think it’s so motherfucking cute when you are handed a glass of milk out of the blue)

Shouto who decides to be a bit rebellious after he gets out of high school, who wants to try new things, who decides to cut his hair shorter, who gets a nose ring, who pierces his ears (not to mention his tongue ring— you almost fainted when you noticed it the first time🥵) who goes with you when you get your own tattoos & piercings—he often wears jewelry that reminds him of you

Shouto who says his absolute favorite thing in the world is to snuggle up with you on the couch, when it’s raining, when the two of you are wrapped up in a fluffy blanket burrito, watching movies & napping (if it gets a little X rated, who can judge you😮‍💨)

Shouto who is a fucking dry texter, but who sends you pictures of things he knows you love while he’s out on patrol, especially pics of dogs that he encounters (he even ends up bringing one home for you), who gets so happy when you respond with pictures of things you know he enjoys—sort of making your own language with one another

Shouto who likes to wear more of a streetwear style when he’s not working (to your never ending delight), who likes to wear matching clothes with you (shoes, shirts, even matching colors, etc.), who even bought you both a pair of matching underwear (because it makes him feel like a part of you is with him—you did feel a bit smug, knowing you were technically sitting on his face all day)

Shouto who sucks ass at almost every video game, but who can annihilate anyone at Mario Kart, bitter because you don’t think you’ve ever beaten him, (although whenever you and your friends gather at your home, the highlight of the night is watching Bakugou lose to Sho over & over)

Shouto who has stayed close to Midoriya, considering the man as his brother by extension (you love the green haired man & see him often), who goes to the #1 hero for help planning you a surprise party by sending Midoriya a series of increasingly concerning emojis until he agrees (he was nervous he would mess it up—he didn’t)

Shouto who loves to eat peach gummy rings?? (not the only peach he likes to eat👀), who you have woken up to eating the candy at 2:00 am (you just take one and go back to sleep), who memorizes your favorite candy and leaves it for you to find everywhere— even your car (you love Shouto so goddamn much)

Shouto who has told you the story of how he got his burn mark, about his father, his brother and all the horrors of his past, who opened up to you—trusting you completely, wanting to share a side of himself others don’t see (you absolutely cried), who you trust in return—telling him everything about yourself & your own past

Shouto who has taken you to meet his family, meet his mother, who added you to the group chat with all his siblings (they are actually a lot of fun, even if Shouto only replies with one word answer or gifs), who tries to fit his face with more than one expression when he meets your parents (you tell him it doesn’t matter, because he’s perfect for you either way—that earns you another million watt smile)

Shouto who loves you wholly, deeply, completely, who is your soul mate, who is your best friend, who planted the seed of his love in your heart that has grown bigger than a California Redwood tree, who becomes your husband, who you love more than life itself—you’d start a war for this man (he’d do the same)

🍰Warning NSFW Below🍰

Shouto who enjoys kissing, who loves to lazily make out with you, who feels his cock start twitching in his briefs when the kiss starts to get heated & messy, lips slick as they glide together, who gets half hard when your tongue plays with his, whining gently when you tilt your head—flicking the tip of your soft tongue against his

Shouto who likes to lay you on your back in the bed, stripping you until your only in one of his large T-shirts, who likes to push it up your belly—slowly letting it get caught on your tits until he can watch them fall and bounce, who makes you keep the shirt up around your collarbone as his warm, wet mouth sucks on your nipples, pussy throbbing—no doubt wet as fuck now

Shouto who bites over the skin on your sternum, plush lips trailing down your belly until he gets to your pussy, who grips the bottoms of your thighs pressing them backwards to your chest, who gets onto his belly, looking up at you as he licks a stripe from your folds up to your sweet bud, making sure he swirls the cold metal of his tongue ring on the heated flesh of your clit (immediately you’re gripping the sheets, whimpering fuck Sho! when warm tingles radiate down to your toes)

Shouto whose eyes flutter closed while he eats you out, who moans into your pussy—vibrations you can feel throughout your groin, who makes you squeal when he sucks your clit—tongue ring feeling electric with every swipe of his tongue, who eagerly says pussy tastes s’good Angel, can I eat your ass? pretty please baby? (you flip over immediately)

Shouto who gets you both completely naked, whose cock is standing straight out when you take a look at it, who gets your ass in the air, face shoved into the sheets, who rains his hand down on your ass cheek, pain flaring brightly up to your hip, who gives you no break—gripping the thick flesh of your ass and spreading you open, kitten licking at your asshole (you almost scream—once again the sensations increased ten fold by the contrast of his chilly tongue ring)

Shouto who shoves his middle two fingers in your pussy with no warning, tearing a gasp from your chest, who finger fucks you and sucks on your tight hole until your lower belly tightens, pussy clenching his fingers, cumming hard, who fingers you through your orgasm— stroking his cock as he whines to you Angel your pussy is so fucking tight, wanna fuck you so bad, please can I? (you say yes immediately)

Shouto who knows you’re a pillow princess, who loves it, but has actual hearts in his eyes, cheeks flushed a sweet pink when he’s able to convince you to ride him for a little bit—reverse cowgirl style, who props his back against the headboard with a couple pillows, who pulls your hands behind your back—holding your wrists together in one hand

Shouto who spreads your ass with his free hand, whimpering uncontrollably as he watches his cock disappear into your pussy as you bounce in his lap, whose dick throbs and who sucks in air sharply between clenched teeth when you moan f-fucking hell Sho, your cock is so good, so big, gonna make me cum as you throw your head back

Shouto who can only take it for so long before he pushes you off his cock, manhandling you onto your back whispering in your ear gonna fuck your sweet pussy now, okay Angel? as he grips his shaft, feeling how slippery you’ve gotten his cock, sliding his dick all the way in with one thrust—making you cry out and dig your nails into his shoulders

Shouto who bends you in half, knees hooked over his shoulders as he squishes you into a mating press, who fucks you hard, hips curling up into your sweet spot, making you feel each drag of his cock, cumming within the first five strokes—& then again and again and again, orgasms popping in you like water balloons, pleasure gushing all the way up to your brain

Shouto who chokes on his moans as your slick, warm pussy squeezes his cock over & over, voice low & needy when he whines into your ear Angel please, cum on my cock one more time, need it baby, pretty please-m’gonna cum soon

Shouto who does make you cum one more time, who makes you start to feel dizzy from cumming & the angle you’re pretzeled into, you’re able to focus just enough to speak in between moans, saying Sho, hah—oh fuck! Sho, you’re such a good boy, fuck me so well, love your cock Sho, love you baby boy—who cums instantly when he hears your sweet voice praising him, high pitched, needy sounds falling from his lips as he grinds his hips against your ass, cumming in warm, sticky ribbons

Shouto who makes you feel like you have noodles for limbs, breathing heavy as you both feel giddy with the post orgasm glow, who unravels you slowly, pulling out & letting you spread out like a starfish, who flops down on your side, who lets you collect your thoughts—lacing his fingers with yours as you both relax into the mattress

Shouto who eventually gets up to clean himself, who brings you a warm wash cloth and cleans you, who finds the shirt you were previously wearing and some clean panties after he gets dressed, who pulls you into a hug—telling you how much he loves you, planting kisses all over your face & you do the same—Shouto who goes to the kitchen & then brings you a glass of strawberry milk 💕

PokéJanuary Day 40: ELDER 👵

🐛< They are going to grandma's cave together :3

Just for funsies, some sketches of the Once-ler being a big corporate boss who doesn’t read the complaint box. 

starting 2024 with a Toji

That's What You Get (Yandere!Hawks x Pregnant!Reader)

SERIOUS WARNING: This is an extremely disturbing read with themes and topics that include: suicidal tendencies, cursing, verbal abuse, blood, self-harm, infantilism, forced pregnancy, purposeful miscarriage, descriptions of gore, physical abuse and mentions of rape.

Please read with caution as you have been warned of the heavy subjects present in this story.

You wondered to yourself what you did to deserve all of this.

What god had decided to push all their anger unto your poor, unfortunate soul with such mercilessness?

What events led you to meeting a red-winged devil pretending to be an angel?

A hot hand grabbed at your hand without warning, yanking it away from your mouth. A trail of bloodied saliva followed and you only then noticed the familiar taste of blood on your tongue.

"Can you fucking stop?" Dabi hissed, turquoise eyes glaring deep into your hazed ones. "Do you want Hawks to lose his shit again?"

Yes, is what you wanted to say. You wanted Hawks to watch as you bit into your fingers with little thought. You wanted him to see how numb you were from all his abuse. You wanted him to know that he did this.

He was the reason you were broken now.

You didn't answer his question or even bother to truly look at him, only bringing your other hand to your mouth and biting down.

Your nail cracked against your teeth and felt slight satisfaction when Dabi cursed again and had to grab both your hands to keep you from doing any further damage to yourself.

"God dammnit, Y/N!" He growled, grabbing the attention of nearby league members scattered about the hideout. "Can someone please take this stupid bitch? I am not babysitting that hero's fuck doll today!"

Entering the room with a long sigh, Mr. Compress switched places with the purple-skinned villain, a first aid kit in tow.

When Dabi exited from the room, a dry chuckle left you but disappeared just as quickly as it came.

That's how most feelings worked for you now. They'd come and go. You were never allowed to truly feel anything for longer than 10 seconds.

Compress eyed you disappointingly, "It's not funny, Y/N." He scolded as he began to wrap your fingers, "Hawks told you to take better care of yourself. The more you put yourself at risk, the harder this pregnancy will be in the long run.

You stilled at that, nausea rising to your throat at the painful memories of Hawks holding you down against the cold, tiled floor and his warm, smooth cum filling your bruised cunt to the brim despite your cries.

That was followed by many more nights painted the same way.

A month later, you found out you were pregnant after Hawks had tested your toilet water.

The bastard was happier than ever but that happiness went right out the window when he caught you attempting to throw yourself down a set of stairs later that day. You'd even looked him in the eyes as you'd started to fall.

It was too bad that he'd caught you. That fall definitely would've done the trick.

After numerous other attempts, the hero finally decided that while he was gone, someone had to be with you at all times for both you and the baby's parasite's protection.

"Done-" Compress finished wrapping the bandages around you fingers, "-Have you eaten lunch yet?"

No, you hadn't. You hadn't moved from your curled position on the couch since Hawks left way earlier that morning.

To please Compress, you ate a few bites of what he made you and sipped some of the soup Hawks had packed for you.

Soon, you were back in your corner of the couch, filling in the permanent dent that you’d made from sitting there for so long.

You shivered as you hugged yourself.

Despite wearing a sweater and leggings with thick socks, you always felt so cold. Even if you were sweating, you were still cold.

You wondered why that was.

And now that you were left alone with your thoughts, you began to wonder other things.

Was your family regretting giving you to Hawks?

How long had it been since you'd seen them?

Did they even care?

What would they think if you escaped now and showed up pregnant?

Would they even believe you if you told them what Hawks did?

They’d probably think you were a slut.

A good for nothing whore that would do anything to get money.

Your head felt like it was about to explode.

Everything felt so meaningless now.

Why did this happen to you? Why couldn't you get control of your life again?

You placed a hand on your stomach, feeling the small hump that would soon be bigger and heavier in just a few months.

And then you'd have to push it out while it tore your pussy apart. Then you'd have to heal for who knows how long, taking care of a screaming, shitting lump while Hawks goes out and lives however he pleases.

As he always has.

...

Were you really supposed to just sit here and accept that?

That's what Hawks wanted you to do.

But how the hell could you?

"Baby, I'm back!" Hawks beamed as he walked up to you, stealing a kiss to your cheek. His smiled faded slightly, however, when he saw your bandaged fingers, "Aw, (Y/N), were you biting your fingers again?"

You didn't answer. You never really did anymore, much to his annoyance.

He sighed deeply and turned to Compress, asking him about how you'd done throughout the day. His expression only soured further at the villain's words and he glanced down at you with unimpressed eyes.

"Alright, thank you guys again for watching her-" He picked you up bridal style, "We'll be back next week as discussed."

The flight home was eerily quiet. You could tell that Hawks was upset with you. But he couldn't be nearly as upset as you were. But you knew he never thought about how you felt.

Everything was always about him.

When you both got home to his condominium, he sat you on the couch, unwrapping and examining your damaged fingers.

His lips were downturned and his brows were furrowed. His golden eyes weren't as bright as they'd been previously.

He wasn't happy with you at all.

Good.

His face made you giddy for some reason and you couldn't stop the corners of your lips from twitching upwards. It was so great that you could almost laugh with genuine joy.

Hawks' snapped his eyes up to you with wide, unbelieving eyes.

Shit, you must've laughed without realizing it.

No, wait.

You were crying.

"Oh, (Y/N), it's alright.” He cooed, “I know you'll do better for me and the baby next time, right?" That was a threat and you felt your mood plunge at the mention of the baby parasite resting in you. "Right?"

"Yeah..." You mumbled robotically. You could give less shits about the baby.

Hawks wasn't happy with how you'd responded but shrugged it off with a mumble of 'pregnancy hormones' and started to make dinner.

Ever since he’d found out you were pregnant, he made you take it easy. No unnecessary movement, as he liked to phrase it.

“So…” Keigo started, washing some rice in a bowl, “you’ve got your first appointment coming up next week. How’d’ya feel?”

You touched your growing stomach underneath your loose t-shirt. Was it really time for that?

No, no this couldn’t be.

If Hawks made you wait too long, you won’t be able to get rid of it and then you’ll really be stuck.

Nausea came back full force and you retched aloud, stomach curling. You turned away from the table and threw up the little bit of lunch you’d had earlier.

Keigo was by your side in a flash, rubbing your back when you continued to retch and gag.

“The morning sickness is becoming more frequent now, huh?” He asked, “Here, rinse your mouth with some water.” His feathers brought over a small cup of water and a bowl for you to spit into.

After rinsing your mouth out, you glanced up at Keigo, something you hadn’t done in a long time and saw how he visibly brightened when you did so.

“Please, Kei… I don’t-I don’t want this.” You told him honestly, your voice heavy with misery.

He instantly frowned at that, lips turning downwards and eyes going sharp, “What did I tell you about talking like that, (Y/N)? What the hell is wrong with you?!” He snapped, feathers shaking.

You stared at him as if he weren’t there and shrugged, “I guess you won’t know until the baby’s dead.”

“You don’t mean that.” He seemed to be telling himself that because deep down… deep down he knew that you meant it. “(Y/N), you don’t mean that.”

You felt the corners of your mouth lift again, “I’m not going to my first appointment because there will be no baby. Hell, there weren’t even be a (Y/N) to take to the appointment.” Now you were really smiling, no more tears to give.

Hawks feathers shook more, a hopeless look graced his features as he brought a hand to his mouth, “(Y/N), I-“ He looked away from your wide smile and void eyes, he couldn’t stand to look at you anymore, “What is happening to you? A baby is supposed to make you happy! Why isn’t this working?”

He walked away without another word, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

A burning smell caught your attention and you stepped over your vomit puddle to turn off the chicken he was cooking on the stove.

You took the pan off the still hot burner and placed it on the back one.

If only a burn could kill you.

A glint in your peripheral vision caught your eye and you snapped your head towards the sink. Your eyes widened.

There, like the forbidden fruit, sat a large kitchen knife. You realized Keigo must’ve left it when he was arguing with you.

Now was your chance.

You gripped the knife in both your hands.

You hadn’t seen a knife in so long. Keigo had locked them up when you started ‘acting up’.

You lifted it above your head.

Deep breath in.

Hold it.

You swiftly brought the knife down into your stomach. It slid right in like butter and you surprisingly didn’t feel anything.

With a shaky breath, you looked down and stumbled awkwardly as you struggled to pull the knife back out.

Blood started to soak your t-shirt and stain it dark red. A metallic smell clung to the air and you raised the knife above your head again.

This was easier than you’d thought.

You brought the knife down at an angle and groaned, the pressure of your stab felt like a punch.

One more stab should do the trick.

“(Y/N), I got off the phone with your pediatrician,” Keigo started from the bedroom you both shared, “Turns out, you’re just going through a pregnancy depr- (Y/N)!” He screamed seeing the blood on the ground.

Feathers shot towards you and you smiled wildly as you were pinned to the ground.

Keigo turned you on your side and you let go of the knife, letting it stay in your stomach.

There was no need to do anything else. You’d gotten rid of it for good.

He sobbed loudly in your face, his eyes screaming with despair. He didn’t even recognize you anymore, just like how you hadn’t recognized him for a long time now.

His screams of why were only met with one answer.

“Because, that’s what you get.”

Morning Routine [nsfw]

(Wakatoshi Ushijima x F!Reader)

a/n this is something i wrote and edited today in a single run >.< I wanted to release a haikyuu fluff fic for my tumblr debut but i was just possessed by something this morning and rolled outta bed and just typed this up hehe.. reblogs and comments appreciated!! i have like 12 unfinished works rn and i am busting my ass off to get those finished and published! please be on the lookout for more from me!

summary:: wakatoshi has a bad habit-- his morning routine revolves around you. more specifically, cumming to the sounds of you. warnings:: wakatoshi is highkey a creep/stalker but this fic is fluffy i promise music rec!:: 2fast by superm <AKA the song i listened to when writing> word count:: 1.9k

6:33 AM, the blinking clock reads. 

He doesn’t even need an alarm now. 

Silently, Wakatoshi rolls over, reaches over to his nightstand and grasps the two items he needs most– lube and toilet paper. 

Sighing, he sits himself up, leaning against the headboard of the bed, and, as if awaiting instructions, goes very, very still. 

In a way, he is waiting for orders. You just aren’t aware that you’re the one giving them. 

6:34 AM. A mere minute before you’re up and he can get started with his day. It doesn’t feel right, yet he can’t stop. Shaking his head, Wakatoshi shifts his weight around, impatient. 

I should stop. 

There it is. That nagging voice of reason that scolds him every morning. But really, at this point, he can’t function normally without you. 

There’s a certain amount of stress that comes with carrying the title of ace. All the papers praising his skills, cheering fangirls, and words of encouragement from coach only added to the ever growing expectations that people had for him. 

Luckily, when he was a senior in high school, Wakatoshi had discovered what best alleviates this pressure– not meditation, not Tendo’s comics, but sexual relief. 

Every morning, a quick handjob does the job, gets him into prime condition. He even checked with his primary doctor to ensure it’s safe and healthy to release everyday– “you’ll be fine, Wakatoshi, as long as you don’t consume too much porn,” the old man had advised kindly. 

He took the doctor’s words to heart– since he had discovered this method of relief, Wakatoshi had never viewed porn. Some of his teammates laughed at him when they found out he almost religiously avoids it, but he doesn’t want to contaminate his brain with potentially intrusive or disturbing visions. His imagination has always been enough, after all. 

Until he met you.

In a way, you’re both a blessing and a curse– probably the latter, he admits to himself. Because since he’d met you months ago, the only thing that’s been able to get him up is you. 

He’s never slept so well, his skin has never looked so clear, and, most importantly, his condition on court has never been better. He’s considered the possibility of you being a goddess, or possibly his guardian angel and can only rule those out with the fact that you, like him, masturbate. 

More accurately, masturbate. Every. Single. Morning. 

Then he hears it. The first soft moan. Wakatoshi glances at the time– 6:37 AM. You’re getting a slightly late start today. 

No matter. He lifts his hips, gently rolls down his gray sweats to his lower thigh. He’s already hard. He doesn’t even have to touch himself now to get excited. Your quiet voice and the thoughts of you are enough.

Poor you. You’re unaware that despite residing in a luxurious, single-person room reserved for school athletes, the walls are criminally thin. 

Wakatoshi pops open the lid of the lube, squirting a glob into his warm hand. He throws aside the bottle, barely registering as it bounces off the bed, only intent on listening into the sounds of you and your body. 

When he first grasps his cock, he has to hold back a groan. Despite it being an everyday routine, he still feels the same surge of pleasure as when he first started this nasty habit months ago. 

You're breathing slightly more heavily now, and he hears the sounds of your fingers inserting and exiting your body at a familiar pace. He follows along, carefully stroking up and down. 

He wonders where you’ve learned this from, because you always go at the perfect pace. Somedays, you go slower, teasing yourself, pausing just before you orgasm, but it’s always. 

It’s always exactly what he needs.

God. He knows this is wrong, even as he pumps faster with his left hand to keep up with your quick fingers. It feels so good. 

Next door, you’re beginning to let out soft cries.

He presses his thumb against the tip, holding back a moan of his own as he envisions you jerking him off. 

He’s seen your hand before– extra soft from being in gloves for multiple hours daily as a fencer. 

Thinking about your sport has him thinking about his, and now he’s back to thinking about how wrong this is. But he can’t help it, he’s already tried to give it up once– yielding horrible results. 

The day he held back and skipped a morning fap session with you was also the hardest day of his life. He had found himself unable to focus in lecture, especially grumpy towards Tendo’s typically bearable antics, and worst of all, all his hits were off. 

“Your schedule must be off,” his captain had said, casually tossing a ball high into the air.

“Bad sleep? Rough morning?” 

Wakatoshi had blinked at him wordlessly, wondering how the tall setter had guessed accurately. 

“It’s fine,” the third-year had reassured him, “just get back on track tomorrow.”

With that, Wakatoshi had found himself ‘back on track,’ masturbating with– no, to you– every morning. 

You’re moaning out loud now, almost whimpering. His cock pulses in his hands, veins bulging, growing hotter and heavy. Fuck, he just wants to see you right now. Your cute face, your sexy neck, gorgeous arms... 

He can almost see it now– your smooth thighs shaking and twisting as your small hands would grasp your pillow. He’d make you feel so good, he just knows it. He’d lean against you, kiss your neck and ear before whispering how good you are, how you’re making him cum, how much he loves you! 

You’d cum, and he wouldn’t stop. He’d want to see your eyes roll back over and over again, and he’d memorize every inch of your face.

Wakatoshi holds back another groan. His fisted hand feels so good against his cock, especially as it imagines it’s your tight pussy. 

Contrary to what Tendo believes (the only one to know about this bad habit) it wasn’t just your soft moans and quiet gasps that had him clenching his sheets as he lifted his hips.

He had long fallen for you, since you had first locked eyes with him in the long hallway. 

There was something about you. The way you always smile up at him gently– not in the way that other girls smile at him, as if they want something (usually his number)– but a genuine smile, eyes crinkling slightly.  

This unexpected attraction was only exacerbated when you sat next to him at the first-years’ dinner party. You smelled so fucking good and listened to his words with actual interest, asking him about his family and laughing at his lame jokes.

Unfortunately, he was also scared. 

He had heard about the countless rejections you’d dished out since the first day of university. 

Despite his perceived sexual ignorance, Wakatoshi knew everything there was to know– he was popular, too, in his own right. Tall and lean, there were girls throwing themselves on him left and right. 

But he only wanted you. 

Today, he must be extra stressed (especially with that upcoming psychology exam that he hasn’t studied for yet) because he’s so, so close, yet can’t seem to finish. 

Fine then. 

He leans over, grabs his cell phone. He only does this in emergency cases, which occurs about once or twice a month. 

Swiping up, he’s greeted by his photo gallery, opened the night prior for this cause. 

In his locked gallery awaits dozens of photos of you. 

Obviously none were taken by him! 

Wakatoshi’s a creep, but one with manners and boundaries. 

This gallery is cluttered with headshots of you from the school’s official website, silly photos of you that were sent into the college athlete’s group chat, and his favorite– photos of you from your close friend who sells them to him at fair prices, starting at $10 minimum. 

None are suggestive. But they still rile him up, maybe because the only connection he has with you is through your early morning activities. 

Wakatoshi desperately taps on the newest picture he bought for $40, quadruple the usual price– he can hear your breath hitching, and he knows you’re almost done. 

He wants to finish with you so bad. 

He was going to save this picture for next week, when he knows you’ll be gone for the fencing nationals and he’ll have to cum without you for an entire miserable, dreadful, god-forsaken week–

but he doesn’t care now. Nothing matters. 

It’s a glorious photo– when he heard your friend had it, he had grabbed her by the shoulders and demanded a price. 

You. On the beach. Under an umbrella. Lying on a purple towel.

He had paid an extra ten dollars for the motion picture– so he could watch you go from ass up onto your back, breasts jiggling and cheeky smirk in full action.

That’s enough. 

He holds his fist tight–one more pump and he’s finished, but he wants to make sure you’re cumming first– and he hears it– to his relief, you’re moaning and whispering– “‘m cumming!” 

Yeah, he’s cumming too. His hips lift again, and he drags his closed fist downwards against his wet cock. His vision blurs. 

“Fuck!” 

He can’t help it, today’s orgasm is especially strong, taking control of his full body. He’s shaking, mind barely in control as he continues to slowly pump to ride out the whole orgasm. After all, that’s what you’d do, right? You’d keep riding him, even as he finished and begged you to stop. 

Thank God we came together.

Sometimes, you bait him. More often than he likes, you switch it up, holding yourself back and not allowing yourself to cum before masturbating all over again for an even more powerful orgasm. Those days suck– when he’s already softening, cum all over his large hands, and you’re still going. 

He hears your bed squeak, and he sighs– as soon as it starts, it’s already over.

6:45 AM, his phone reads. Wakatoshi tosses it aside.

Thankfully, he had pulled his phone away in time, avoiding tainting the device with his release. A few times a month, he gets careless and cums onto an open picture of you, causing him to have to run through his shower extra fast so he can leave time to wipe down the device.

Rolling off the bed, he heads towards the shower leisurely. It’s also become a part of his routine to time his shower. It makes him feel even more intimately connected to you. 

Wakatoshi’s grateful you take long showers– you’ve never taken less than 24 minutes to shower, typically, they last about 34 minutes on average. That gives him the time to jump out first and wait to exit his room at the same time you depart from yours. 

Under the heat of warm water, he’s usually consumed with thoughts of you, impossible thoughts, like maybe you know. 

The wall between you and him is equally thin, and your hearing may be as equally good as his…

Maybe you know, and you like masturbating with him. 

And then, just as a precaution, he douses himself with cold water at the end of his shower, and those thoughts dissipate with the steam escaping towards the vent. 

Like everyday, Wakatoshi laces his shoes, sprays on his favorite cologne (that your friend claims you like) and inhales, bracing himself to see you. 

As he hears your feet shuffle, he pushes his door open first, stepping out into the warm hallway.

“Good morning, Wakatoshi!” You greet, eyes brightening. He nods, gulping. That’s an acceptable form of greeting, right?

As the two of you walk towards the elevator in silence, Wakatoshi can’t help but hope that this morning routine won’t be coming to a stop anytime soon. 

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

a/n and that's a wrap :,) i really hope you liked and sorry the ending is highkey shit LOL as i kept editing i kept adding and removing more and more and honestly that's kind of my biggest weakness:: i'm never satisfied with my work and i'm scared ppl won't like it ... but i'm trying to overcome that!

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omegaverse/hybrid au, size difference, pet-play, predator x prey, collaring, handcuffing

fem reader

Think about being a bleating little bunny hunted down by two big bad wolves…

Your fear tastes so good – layered thickly in the air – so sweet in their mouth it’s almost painful how hungry it makes them – seeped and soaked and stained on the bed where they keep you collared and leashed for their own personal use.

You drive them both wild with your aroma and all your cute little struggles where you try so adorably to shove them away and crawl out of their reach. It’s never any use, and yet you still try despite being so stupidly small beneath them – so tiny it only takes one of their hefty hands to have you completely overpowered.

But they’re as sweet as they can be – as sweet as your smaller body allows them to be when it so obviously isn’t meant to take their thicker fatter meaner cocks in its petite little holes – prepping you on tongues and big fingers until you’re as loose as you get before stuffing you with something that’s always going to be too big for you.

They have to tie your hands to something – where despite them being fruitless in their effort, they can become bothersome to leave free – often attaching them to the loop in your collar, so you keep them to yourself all cutely while they mark you with their fangs – making you into a pretty artwork with coarse fingers rubbing your perky little nipples into sore nubs.

You’re really just too cute; it’s cruel – looking up at them with those adorably big eyes and that button nose wrinkling on each little sniffle when you beg them to let you go. Lop-ears sadly framing your face – so soft in their hands and so sensitive it makes you bite your lip all preciously each time they give them a little nibble.

You sob under their touches – knees shaking – as one of them laps at your clit with a bearded chin tickling your puffy pussy-lips, gnawing some on the swollen flesh while slurping your hole. His thick and eager tongue paints through your slit again and again and again on an unrelenting repeat – similar to the eager tail whipping behind him – swallowing all your juice down – growling ferally at the maddening taste while your thighs sweetly tremble around his jaw.

Your other predator bites on the plump of your ass, leaving spotted rings in his wake. Cupping your buttcheeks – fully fitting in the palms of his mighty paws – he cards his claws into the fat and spreads them wide open for an attack on that pretty tight little ring hidden between them. You always whine so sweetly for him – your cute fluffy cottontail doing a little dance while he circles your rim with his tongue – warning you of what’s to come later in the day when he’s finally had the taunt hole fully stretched and as ready as it gets to take his fat knot.

He moans into you while thinking about it – about your cute bunny butt swallowing his meat and being blown full of his thick creampie. Going livid at the mere thought alone – his cock bobs impatiently against his happy trail while he forces restraint upon himself – knowing how if he tries splitting your poor little butt on his pole now, he’d most likely tear you in two.

Instead, he amuses himself by prodding the pretty hole with the tip of a very special golden carrot – fresh batteries turning your rim numb while he slides ring after thicker ring inside you until you close around the tuft of golden leaves at its end. Tugging on his cock impatiently, he places his head – fluffy pointy ear-down upon your belly – listening to the drums echo inside you as he turns the vibrations up high enough to feel it through your skin. 

Of course, he wants to make sure that his precious little bunny is prepped and ready before subjugating you to a good butt-fuck – being kind enough to satisfy himself with your mouth until then – making you cry and choke around his thickness, swallowing his cock down your tight throat until your little nose burrow in the dark curls around his base – watching the pretty furrow between your brows beg for air as your eyes roll back and turn white with desperation.

He lets you suck his balls as mercy once you’ve choked him down long enough – to the point you’ve lost your pretty voice – gripping one of your lop ears, he holds it tightly by the base – thinking there's nothing cuter than spitting on your chubby bunny-face while you dizzily comfort yourself by nuzzling his sack so sweetly. 

Your pussy is left alone after it’s made swollen by a handful of orgasms, but not before the abuser slaps his handiwork with a grin. He wipes his chin off your slick, then grabs your other free ear – messaging the softness as he pulls your mouth off the other’s sack and onto his cock – fucking the pocket of your cheek while you sob from their rough handlings – fearing they might just tear your poor ears off.

They both stand above you as you kneel for them by their feet, lolling your teary lips against their heavy balls – groaning as you give them all sloppy, open-mouthed kisses as they fight for space in your tiny mouth – telling you to beg for the cum stored inside while you slide you pink little tongue over them until they drip with your drool. Then, making your lip and mouth the spine of their shafts, sliding both fat manhoods between your plump lips until making you take one head at a time, licking the slit clean of slaty precum.

But more than childsplay with their cocks on your cute face, they like propping your other two holes – make you moan and cream on them – entirely obsessed with fucking you full of the two of them – pushing in so deep, they have you screaming and shaking in uncontrollable spasms as you clamp down hard around them.

It feels extra sweet when they fuck you at the same time – feeling the other through the wall separating the holes – timing their thrusts – pushing in until completely sheathed down to the base, bottomed-out with their knot swelling up inside you, pumping you full of hot cum before sloshing out – leaving you panting and twitching.

Both holes fluttering around their absence – they inspect them to see how good they have your little bunny-holes stretched – grinning at the sight of both entrances gaping for them as though they can’t wait to be taken by their big dicks – both chuckling deeply when seeing how much of their cum your tightness pushes out before they fuck it right back inside you again – completely mesmerized by the big belly bulge the two of them are making in your tiny body – taken and riveted by the thought of breeding you despite knowing that it would be impossible for you to carry either of their pups. 

None of it keeps them from emptying the full value of their balls inside you for the umpteenth time – both of them slobbering at your neck while messaging you with big hands on your tits and hips, hissing out carnivorous desires your feeble constitution doesn’t understand before they sink their teeth down hard into the soft flesh of your vulnerable neck – claiming you as both their pretty little prey and silly little mate.

BNHA – EndMight, EndHawks, BakuDeku, KiriBaku, DabiHawks, ShigaDabi

JJK – Toji x Shiu, SatoSugu

HQ – Miya twins