Title: Sunday Regret [Yandere Hawks X Reader]

Wearing matching t-shirts-- just couple things <3

(it was definitely Dabis idea)

Lee's Masterlist

For haikyuu, this masterlist is divided up by individual teams - so pick your poison!

Quick reminder that all of my content is yandere, so please proceed with caution! Also, for haikyuu absolutely everything is set post timeskip!

Haikyuu

Karasuno

Nekoma

Aoba Johsai

Fukurodani

Shiratorizawa

Inarizaki

Miscellaneous

Hunter x Hunter

Boku no Hero Academia

Kimetsu no Yaiba

General, multifandom:

Headcannons:

Drabbles:

Men that whimper during sex

Men that like watching you touch yourself

Sex Competency/my personal philosophy on 'sex gods'

With a darling that speaks another language

How long do they keep their virginity?

Poly yandere couples in hxh (also mentions possible pairings in kny, bnha, and haikyuu too)

I got more lazy with these as I went on but. Ninja wip woooo

Ok, hear me out. Imagine the yandere bnha thinking that their darlings made something wrong/disobey them and when they deny it the boys get really angry and just aply a harsh punishment. So when they find out that she, in fact, didn't do anything wrong and that she wasn't lying, what would they do? I don't know if this is confusing but it's on my mind now. Could you write this for Bakugou, Izuku and Keigo pls??? ❤️

yandere ! BNHA imagines

TIP-JAR

goodiebag WARNINGS: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, abuse, anxiety, guilt, manipulation, slight mutilation, profanity, Stockholm syndrome

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

“Where’s the knife, Quirkless.” She would have flinched at the nickname if she hadn't gotten so used to it already, and though he had discarded of the title lately it still felt like a second skin to the girl.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't on edge, if he hadn't been looking for a flaw in the perfect evening. “Knife?” She turned to look at him, fiddling with the bow on her neck, the one fasting her apron.

“That was why you were so fucking persistent on helping me in the kitchen... wasn't it?” He looked hurt as he accused, voice only barely holding together, eyes a burning searing cold. “Just so you could take a fucking knife?” 

She wasn't understanding anything, and he’d know that if he’d believed the crinkle of confusion between her brows. 

“I thought we were making progress.” He sighed, cleary disappointed, seemingly contemplating what to do next, how he could and should deal with the situation before he lost ahold of his temper.

“As flattering as it is you thinking I’d have the nerve, skill and imagination to steal a knife from you-” She started, a halfhearted laugh breathed within her words, nearly amounting to a giggle. “I didn't take anything, you must have counted them wrong.” 

“Don't fuck with me!” His attitude-twist had her jump, expression falling then rising as her eyes grew wide, lips shut, suddenly feeling frozen, as though any movement could only be answered by the great ash-blonde’s counterattack. “Just hand it over and I won't have to hurt you too bad.”

She took a step back, hands rising as an instinctive makeshift shield, or to balance herself with the rush of blood suddenly pumping in her system. “Katsuki, I’m telling the truth.” She swallowed, trying to level the growing feral energy she felt surge and ooze from the fueling fire in front of her. “I didn't take it.”

“Bullshit, there’s a knife missing and I didn't take it, no one else sure as fuck did, so that leaves you.” His eyes scrutinized, narrowing in her direction. “You and your silver tongue who somehow managed to trick me into thinking letting you anywhere near the fucking kitchen was a good idea, I should have just left you tied to the bed.” His voice dripped with venom, contained potent danger, ready to kill, ready to sink his teeth in. “Now, I’m gonna count to three, if you know what’s good for you, you’re gonna give me the fucking knife. One...”

“But, I didn't...” She tried, but he wouldn't have her excuses.

“Two...” She stood there, unsure if whether she should run, though not able to answer quick enough. “Three.”

“Katsuki, I swear I didn't take anything.” Tears slipped down her face now as she watched his muscles flex with the white-hot wrath surging through his veins. Her knees grew weak and she knew she wouldn't be able to run anywhere, nor was there any place to run to if she could. 

“Fucking liar...” He turned away, heading back into the kitchen. “Tears won't save you from this one.” 

She heard the crash of his hands fiddling in the cutlery drawer, thinking he might have given the superiority of his math skills a second thought, but saw him return too quickly for that to be the case, eyes too blurry to see what he was holding in his hand, yet having an educated guess what it might be. 

“Since you like playing with knives so fucking much, why don't we play a game...” He yanked her wrists forward, sent her staggering into him, crushing the dainty joint in his palm, where if it wasn't for the ear-piercing wail that cut-loose into the air, they could have heard the small cracks indicating a fracture, though Bakugo didn't need to hear it where he felt it pop with satisfactory ease inside his fist, only to push her down on the stone floors, hand flattening out her arm. “Each time you refuse to tell me where you hid your idiotic little escape-plan, your senseless downright insulting form of neutralizing me...” His face a mere inch away from hers as he snarled, spit flying, knife placed at her neck. “I’m gonna carve a reminder of how fucking useless you are into your skin so you never get any of these dumb fucking ideas ever again.”

Her high-pitched screams rung like cacophony through his house, bouncing off the marble walls, filling every room with noise so deafening he was beginning to tire, head hurting at the earth-shattering wails. 

“Where is it, Quirkless?” He growled for the dozenth time, knife dripping with her blood as he just finished etching the last ‘s’ into the flesh of her arm, the fully spelled cruel nickname oozing with a stark vermillion just as rich as his bloodshot eyes staring down at her.

“I- I don't know.” She sniffed, chest heaving as she laid limply, pinned beneath him, cheeks stained and streaked with tears, bloated, nose red and eyes unfocused, looking about ready to pass out. “Please...”

He huffed through his nose, twitching with unstifled rage, growing more and more frayed. “Fine, suit yourself, next will be my fucking name.” He seethed, drawing another defeated sob from out of her hiccuping ribcage. “Wonder where I should write it... the other arm, your chest, your ass?” His stained bloodied fingers grabbed her chin, tried forcing eye contact only to find blank blown pupils falling to nothing, glossed over and delirious, feverish with dew-drops prickled on her forehead and breasts. “Shit... you’re even weaker than I thought...”

He got up, left her to lay there with labored breaths, making a quick journey to find some bandages, thinking he’d be merciful enough to secure her wounds before starting a new one. Feet slapping against stone, stomping through the halls to the bathroom, pulling open the cupboards only to come to an abrupt holt. 

Ice through his veins at the sight of the knife in the drawer. 

The knife he’d put there to cut bandage cloths each time he would brand her with burns whence his temper got out of bounds.

“Fuck...” He breathed, eyes stinging, body so unbelievable stiff as his ears burned upon hearing the soft snivels coming from the living room.

He walked out, bandage-roll in hand, knees feeling wobbly, too weak to support his weight, and the newly settled burden on his shoulders. He rounded the corner, the bloody word carved into her once soft skin the first thing his eyes fell upon, heart clenching furiously in his chest, something clawing at his throat from the inside. 

“I didn't- I- please- I didn't- I-” She simply lied there, all limp, on the cold stone tiles, blood staining her dress, apron ripped off and thrown next to her, sobbing with such little power they were reduced to mere sniffles, her weak limbs not even trying to make her stand up, too exhausted to even support her breathing as her chest rose with labor on each meager intake and seemed to crumble on every slipping exhale.

“Fuck- I know- I- I fucked up.” He kneeled down next to her, mind reeling, spinning, trying to wrap around the volume of what he’d just done, trying to find any means of salvaging what perfection they’d started the day off with when he’d made her breakfast and she’d hugged him, kissing him all softly and giggling as he lifted her up to sit on the counter. Finding there was no other option but to pick up the broken pieces scattered around him, and hope, hope with all his heart that he could fix things.

“No, please Katsuki, I didn't take anything, please-” She cried once seeing he’d come back, body trying to curl away when his hands descended to touch her, his large hands unsure of what to do, what he could, what he should, what he had to. Ashamed and guilt-stricken, rusty daggers stabbing at his insides, twisting in his gut as he picked her heavy arm up from the ground, laying it on his lap to wrap the white strip of bandage around it.

He bit his lip and tasted the metal on his tongue, tears starting to fall as he withheld screaming, his heart being ripped from his chest, quite like how he wanted to rip his hair out, pull his tongue out, claw his eyes out, tear the skin and flesh of his bones. “I’m sorry.” 

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

He’d been going through the regular routine, coming to the bitter conclusion that not everything was up to code. Walking out into the kitchen where his darling had been standing for about an hour cooking dinner, humming a lullaby as she suspiciously went on stirring the pot without a hint of scorn or resistance. 

Her compliant nature all made sense now.

“So, chicken soup?” He quipped, though she didn't pick up on the bitterness.

She just threw her head back to look at him over her shoulder, soft smile on her face. “Yeah, I know it’s your favorite!” It was so heartfelt he almost believed it.

“Clever.” Her brows furrowed upon the strange darkness in his tone, but shrugged it off, excused it on him being tired after a long day.

She poured the soup into two bowls, picked them up to set them on the table where she’d laid out a nice table-cloth and a small vase of flowers, all swift and graceful. “You say it all the time, I’d have to be deaf to miss it.” He waddled over to take his seat, eyes fixed on her and her antiques all the way, trying to spot an inch of regret in her composure, but finding she sprung around him and fiddled and fussed like the perfect housewife he’d groomed her to be, lying to his face with the bright smile on her lips. “Well, go on. It’s my first time with this recipe.”

“Special recipe, is it?” He asked, sitting down and picking up his spoon, twirling it in his hand, eyes still set on her, an eyebrow slightly cocked.

She looked to him then, head tilting to the side, growing more and more confused by his strange attitude. “No... quite simple actually.” She decided to brush it off, thinking he might perk up after he got some food. “Well?” She nodded eagerly towards his bowl.

“You first.” He smiled, though his eyes still looking strangely... dead.

“Oh, thank you.” She smiled, picking up her spoon, scooping to put in her mouth, then swallowing.

“So it’s only in my bowl then.” He sighed.

“What-” 

“Im not eating this.” He dropped his spoon, letting it clatter with soft yet abrasive thumps on the clothed table.

“Did I do something wrong?” The concerned look on her face nearly had him fooled.

“Save it...” He snapped, getting up with an exasperated sigh, carding his hands through his hair as he paced. “You really thought I wouldn't notice you trying to drug me?” She had gotten up to try and comfort him, yet stopped at the accusation.

“What’re you...”

He gave a curt exhale, a rather short frenzied excuse for a laugh. “It’s a good plan, your safest bet really.” She was simply left dumbfounded as she watched him pace, his wings on edge, hunched and ruffled. “I’m too fast for you to try and run, I would sniff you out if you tried hiding, fighting me would be ridiculous... knocking me out with a few pills was the only way.” She opened her mouth to protest, but couldn't really decipher just what it was he was accusing her off. “So fucking clever, I could almost applaud the effort!” His voice boomed, loud and shrill, taking up the space of the open-spaced apartment. “Too bad you fucked up.” She was getting scared now, heart climbing up her throat as she watched him flail his arms, throwing a tantrum with how upset he was about something she didn't even know what was. “Shit... and I thought I was being crazy. You had me feeling bad for not trusting you and here you are trying to pull shit like this.”

She went against her better judgement and walked toward the bristled feral man, her hands held up to touch him even though it seemed she mind burn at contact. “What are you talking about? Keigo-” “Shut up.” He spat, arm flying and landing a sharp smack across her face, impact and angle sending her to the floor, though not allowing her to recover as the same abusive hand came to grab a fistful of her hair, scalp screaming as he began dragging her across the floors, forcing her to crawl after him where he began stomping to some unknown place, tasting the metal of a popped lip bleeding into her mouth. “Unless you’re gonna apologize or beg, I don't want to hear it.”

“But-” She sobbed, trying weakly to pry his fist from her hair, only to feel him tightening and pulling some more, his pace making her soft knees scathe on the marble floors, burns running down her shins.

“It’s time you understood your place as my mate. Your only purpose.” He dismissed.

She’d gotten rather used to being thrown down on the bed, but not with Keigo’s fierce feathers cutting off her dress with little regard to a avoid nicking her skin, nor with his hand squeezing the life out of her, windpipe crushing beneath his brutal grip. 

“This is the only thing you’re any good for, only thing you’re made for, only thing you are. Just my little breeding-bitch, nothing else.” He spat as he ripped her panties down, dug his nails into her thighs while kicking her legs apart as she heaved and spluttered for more air, coughing in a fit once he removed his hand to better spread her open, her dress in tethers around her bruised body, skin once soft now sliced in a thousand small bleeding cuts, her hand weakly coming to push at his pelvis, as she was rendered unable to speak, only hiccup and cough and cry. And Keigo didn't waste any time, spitting on his spitefully erect cock, the only moisture he’d deemed necessary as he pushed inside her dry unprepared tight entrance, feeling her tense up beneath him, felt her panicked sobbing in the way she beat at his chest as he laid down on top of her, all his weight squeezing the breath from out her lungs as he let go of spreading her thighs open in favor of catching her bothersome fists, pinning them into the bed with a crushing grip as he started rolling sharply and harshly and rapidly into her. Growls erupting from someplace deep within his throat, no shame, just white-hot blinding unforgivable rage.

He climbed off once he’d emptied himself inside her, grabbing her arms, he lifted her only to throw her limp body down on the ground. “Mutts sleep on the floor.” He spat, blood still oozing from spliced skin, open wounds around her wrists where he'd clawed, neck almost ripped open beneath the impact of his teeth marking her, throat sore from screaming, yet still continuing to haul up painful bleeding sobs. 

And though he’d made it such a point that breeding was her only usage, made her say it, made her beg for it, made her thank him, he still went to find a pill, yet with the rush of what he’d just done coming to a crash he was left feeling dizzy in the spiraling downfall of his frenzy, adrenaline fizzing out and nerves starting to prickle, messaging his temples to soothe the oncoming headache, finding quite ironically he could use a pill or two to soothe his nerves, the same kind she’d tried drugging him with earlier. 

She curled up on the floor, hugging her body for comfort, bruises and cuts stinging hot against the cool carpet. 

He padded into the bathroom, unbothered by her cries, thinking they were justified, deserved. Hands casually reaching towards the pill-bottle in the medicine cabinet, popping the cap and throwing two circular, not oval, pills down his throat, face contorting at the foreign feel of them on his tongue, realizing, slowly and mortifyingly, that the taste was sweet instead of bitter, as they were supposed to be. 

Grabbing the bottle and turning it in his hand to read the label, eyes scanning and widening, blinking once, blinking twice, whispering a small breathless. “No...”

He ran back into the bedroom, cursing all the way, cursing himself all the way.

He’d mislabeled the bottles. One bottle containing what pills he’d used to take to calm himself during his ruts before finding a better outlet in his darling, the other bottle full of OxyContin. The rut-pills naturally having way less pills inside, which was why he counted that at least fifteen pills where missing this morning.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck...” He cursed, had no mind for anything else as he rounded the corner and stood in the threshold, scared to enter, scared to breathe as he listened to his darling pained whimpers and shattered breaths. His darling still lying exactly where he’d left her, limp where were it not for the wrecked way her ribcage would rise and fall, he’d think she was dead.

Instinctively he sent his feathers out to help her up quicker than his legs could carry him over, though she recoiled at the fluttering of them, whimpering as she backed herself up into the corner of the room, sitting with her knees tucked tightly to her chest, her arms swung around them to shield herself, head hung as she winced and chocked on her cries. 

It felt like dying, the a jagged rock lodged in his chest, it felt like death, like sickness, spreading throughout him, cold and vicious, with no mercy as he began crying too.

“M’ sorry, I’m s- so sorry, sorry, I’m sorry, ple- please-” He begged, but her huddled frame was shaking in terrorized shock as she began rocking back and forth, toes curling into the carpeted floors. “Please- please, Angel.” He reached out a second time, this time not letting her flinching stop him, taking her hands in his, both equally shaking. He knelt, head hung and bowing to rest against her feet. “Forgive me...” He started kissing, first the top of her foot, then her calf, hand held loosely inside his, lips mushed to kiss the top, then her knee, pulling her into his lap, hugging her close, cradling her head to his neck, other hand splayed on her back, arm securing her tightly against his chest. “I’m sorry...”

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

Izuku came home earlier than usual, though instead of being suspicious, she felt overjoyed, welcoming him home by the door, helping him tread his jacket off his broad shoulders, hanging it up for him on the hanger to be placed inside the closet neatly, standing up on her tippy-toes as he leant down to plant a juicy kiss to his cheek, all just in the order he’d taught her. Perfection. Getting ready to ask him how his day was, before he beat her to the punch.

“Sweetie?” He asked, slight lilt in his tone.

She just smiled in return. “Yes, Daddy?” Feet placed beside each other and standing straight and perfect like a little doll.

“What did you do today?” It’s quite normal for Izuku to ask, liking to watch his little girl bounce with passion, all shy and giddy and awkward as she drones on about the lack of substance in her day with that unrestrained childlike candidness he’s forged her into.

“Uhm...” She blinked, face in wonderment. “Well... I woke up, had a bath, dressed up.... ooh, made the bed, then I played in the garden for a bit, or... for a very long while actually, I picked some flowers and made a flower-crown, and had another bath because of all the mud-”

“Come here, Bunny.” He cut off her rambling, despite it being cute, curling his finger at her to come over as he sat down on the couch. He patted the couch-cushion beside him, not his lap, which could only mean he wanted one thing. She did what she knew from experience he wanted, propping her knees up to kneel beside him. “Lie down, you know what to do.” Ass arched up over his lap, short frilly skirt hiking up her thighs, revealing her pretty cotton panties, with her face mushed in the other couch-cushion on the opposite side of him. “You want to try that again?” He stroked the ample skin of her butt, cupping one cheek in his palm and messaging calloused fingers over the soft skin, fingering the hem and snapping it back to smack her skin lightly.

“Try what again, Daddy?” She asked, unquestioning of his request, folding her feet while having them raised in the air, pearl-white socks pulled neatly over her knees beginning to roll into the crease of her bent legs.

“What did you do today?” He stroked down the back of her bare thigh, other hand leveling on the small of her back, fingering a lock of hair that laid splayed there.

“But I just told you-” Her voice still sweet and childish and girly, just the way he liked, bordering on whiny as she tipped her head back to give him a perplexed look.

“Hmm, give me your hands.” She folded her arms behind her back, let him grab ahold of both her wrists in one of his massive palms, strong finger curling around them, as he continued stroking the goose-bumped flesh of her behind with the other, lifting her skirt higher, now laying it to rest in the slope of her back, leaving her pink cotton panties on full display, hugging her round bum, all exposed atop his lap. “Tell me again. One more time for me, Bunny.”  

“I don't understand, Daddy?” She asked, feeling her breasts begin to ache with how they were squished against the cushions of the sofa, the underwire to her bra cutting into her flesh in the forced position.

“No? You don't understand?” Deku patronized. “Maybe this will help.” His hand left the soft skin it hand been fondling, his other hand tightening around her wrists, bracing for the recoil that was sure to rush through her whence his raised hand struck down with force upon the unsuspecting plush flesh.

She wailed, arms trying to pull free at once, just like he had anticipated. Her booty wiggling to shake the pain away, feet thumping down into the cushions.

“Why do you think Daddy’s punishing you?” He asked calmly, hand stroking the abused flesh of her bottom as she sniffled into the plush surface her head was resting on, thighs shivering.

“I- I don't kno- know.” She hiccuped, sobs ricochetting through her chest as her one ass-cheek stung with blood like fire.

“No? You don't know?” His hand lifted, coming down hard once again. “How about now?” Voice calm, iced and leveled, strict but soft.

“No, please-” She begged through her sobbing fit, hands uselessly struggling behind her back, cramping in his unmovable death-grip.

“Does Bunny want another slap?” He asked, condescension drowning his tone, dripping like venom as he once again messaged the welted flesh of her ass.

“No-” Her voice was mumbled and slurred through tears, wet like a moan, yet hurt like a bawling toddler who scraped their knees on the pavement.

“No? But you seem to like it so much.” He pulled at the bruised flesh, pinching it between his fingers, making her arch to try and reel away from his touch, a whimpering whine leaving her.

“I didn't do anything, Daddy please!” Squealing like a little piglet, as he worked the ample fat of her butt in his hand, kneading it like one would do dough.

“Think again, I’m sure it’s simply slipping your dumb little brain.” He mocked, eyes keen and lightning-like as they look down at her face mushed against the couch, her lips blubbering like a fish, nose red and runny with the tears coating her cheeks, drool dribbling down her chin from the heavy wrecking sobs.

“No daddy, I-” Another branding landing of his large hand against her unprotected abused and bruised skin.

“Bad bunny, you mustn't tell lies.” He chastised, letting go of her wrists in favor of entangling the brutish hand in her hair, holding her skull in his palm as he dragged her up, other clawed knuckled paw manhandling her into kneeling over his lap, her trembling little body doing nothing but abide by his direction, sniveling and sniffling, hiccuping on beaten shuddering breaths as she blinked to make the brimming tears fall out of her sore eyes, lids puffy and eyelashes glossed, looking so adorably vulnerable when wincing at his fingers digging into the delicate softness of her hips, keeping her seated, ass blossoming with lilac and maroon. “My little pet tried to escape today, didn't she?” His eyes were set and stone-cold as he narrowed them slightly at her, left eye mildly twitching every second or so.

Her hands held onto his arms, more to balance herself as she cried than for his sake. “What... no-” She mumbled out between sniffs and bleating, eyes too dewy to focus, mind too clogged to be thinking of much more than her aching flesh.

“No?” His voice mimicked her frail timber. “Then how come I know you tried opening the door to the mudroom at exactly 2.37 in the afternoon today?” He quirked a brow, nostrils flaring at the building potent brew of rage within him. “Care to explain what you where thinking?” 

Chest heaving sporadically, still with her sobs she tried formulating what muddled answer she could. “I- the rain-”

“The rain!” He stated, voice sharp and booming, not buying whatever sorry excuse she was trying to sell him. “Gotta do better than that, Bunny.” He almost felt offended with how little she’d prepared for this, he would have thought she’d come up with something better than the weather.

She sniffled. “I- I didn't want to ruin my shoes in the mu- mud, and my boots are in the mudroom, bu- but the d-door was locked, so I went barefoot instead, I’m so- sorry-” She managed to blubber out, breaths hitching, toppling her words, voice cracked and uneven in her rambling.

“Boots? Barefoo-” He asked, but answered his own question by backtracking to what she’d said about spending the day in the garden. “You weren't trying to leave?” He stated, again more like the answer to his own question.

She whimpered like a pup, small pained cries. “Leave? Why... why would I leave?”

He stared at her for a moment, features soon drawing back, a shrouded mind clearing, biting his tongue. “No reason...” He answered her bleary confused features, hands softening in their grip on her hips, nails dislodging from digging into her skin. “Don't walk barefooted when you’re outside, I don't want you to get sick.” He saved himself, casting the events and the punishment onto the measly crime.

“I won't ever do it again, I promise!” She shook her head, arms swung around his shoulders, pushing her head into the nook of his neck for comfort, basking in the familiar scent of cologne, rubbing her teary face off on the color to his shirt, kissing his throat, laying its worship, body pressed flush against his, hips shimming to better slot herself down on his lap.

Her actions were well received, a little too well with how rigid and uptight and exhausted he was in the wake of his fading anger. “Good girl.” He sighed, pleased. Large hand finding her cheek, cupping it and her chin to pull her up to face him. “It’s been a long day, give me a kiss.” She didn't hesitate, soft bloated lips pressed primly into his, welcoming how he liked to suck on her bottom lip, welcoming how his teeth liked to chew on it, knowing how to make herself useful, petite hands finding his chest, working at the perfect pace in unbuttoning his shirt, hips rocking like they’d been taught to awaken what was kept inside his pants.

TIP-JAR

FOLLOW-UP ASK

I redrew the one from last year

original:

Yandere!Hawks x Broken!Reader

Summary: Hawks regrets breaking you.

Warnings: yandere themes, injury mentions, blood mentions, physical and emotional abuse mentions, suicidal ideation, attempt mentions, forced captivity

Word count: 1.1k

The cool glass pressed against your forehead. The nightlife never got boring from up here. The lavish apartment Keigo had kept you in was dark, dinner ice cold on the table by now. He’d warned you it was going to be late by the time he got home, but you decided to wait nonetheless.

He would’ve expected dinner at 6 anyway, late or not. The cameras still watching your every move. You had prepared dinner, as usual, the routine he’d molded you to fit, it was something Keigo credited to you becoming a perfect housewife.

You hated it.

Your previous attempt at finally being free of the cage he’d put you in still throbbed. You were—quite literally—caged in like a common parakeet. It didn’t help that he called you “dove” either. Now, you couldn’t even really breathe properly without threatening to pop the stitches in your back.

You could feel the gashes stretching as you leaned forward against your knees. Keigo’s handiwork serving as a blatant reminder that if you were going to try and fly away, you would have your wings clipped.

Not that you ever had wings in the first place, nor the ability to fly. However, diving headfirst off the balcony was enough of an 'escape' attempt for him to punish you. Two deep gashes on either side of your spine, held together by string and pain. The marks were a reminder that death as a freedom was torn away, the pain being more than you could ever handle.

You couldn’t get out of bed for two days post punishment, the bruises from the beatings adding on to your pain. Keigo made sure to smother you with kisses and care before returning to work, a reminder that his punishment was "for the best".

You didn’t want to try and escape again. Besides, a bird without wings had no reason to leave the cage, right?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a thump on the balcony. A familiar jingle of keys and a jiggle of the door handle, and suddenly he was home.

“Hey there, little dove,” Keigo chirped, discarding his gloves and jacket on the dining chair. His eyes surveyed you, then the room, “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to dinner, since it’s probably cold, do you wanna order takeout?”

You stayed quiet, he’d never offered to order anything, always insisting you should cook. Was this a trick?

When you didn’t answer, Keigo strode across the room until he was in front of you. His hand was placed firmly under your chin, yanking your jaw up to meet his gaze.

His hardened features suddenly went soft.

Keigo searched your face for any sign of defiance, any hint that you’d try to hurt him, or yourself, but there was none of that.

“Dove,” Keigo started, “I asked you a question.”

You swallowed roughly, struggling against the position he was holding you in.

“I-it’s ok, I can just remake it.” You offered, trying to push yourself up and off the windowsill.

As soon as you stood he stopped you firmly by your shoulders, still searching your face, your body. To him, something wasn’t right.

“What’s up with you?” He asked blatantly.

You froze, was this another trick question?

“I..” you started, not being able to tear your eyes away from his gaze, “I’m just hurting.”

You answered honestly, not sure if that was what he wanted to hear.

He sighed, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, making you wince.

“It’s ok if you don’t make dinner tonight, dove, we can order in Chinese food or something. A new restaurant just opened up down the street, would you like to try that place?.” He asked softly.

It was your turn to search his face for any hesitation, any sign this was a trick, but there was nothing.

You slowly leaned into his chest, searching for warmth, for any hint of love that would show you he wasn’t upset with you.

Keigo gently wrapped his arms around your waist, careful not to hurt your back any further. This softness was your answer. He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head.

In his mind, Keigo felt bad. Images of you screaming and crying under him as he used his own feathers to cut into your back, only minutes after he had laid several strikes on your entire body. He remembered your sobs for hours after your punishment. Rocking back and forth while he stitched you up and bandaged you until you cried yourself to sleep. Today marked one week since it happened.

Keigo could sense a change in your demeanor since the moment it happened. You were more submissive now. He didn't have to ask you to clean up or make dinner anymore. It was done without asking, often better than he expected.

You clung to him now, afraid of his next move.

"Dove," He started, pulling away from you, "I'm serious this time, we can order food. I know you're not feeling well."

"Keigo, it's fine-"

"Y/n." He shushed you once more. "It's ok."

You accepted defeat, realizing he wasn't going to let up.

"I'll order as soon as we clean you up." His hands slipped under your jacket, tracing over the wounds.

Taking your hands, he gently pulled you towards your shared bedroom. You were instructed to lay face down on the bed, removing your jacket to reveal the array of bandages underneath.

Keigo sent his feathers to retrieve medical supplies while he cut the old bandages off your body.

Both of you were silent as he carefully cleaned up some of the stitching and dried blood. God there was just so much it felt like you were coated in a thick layer of it. It was painful, too. Dealing with gashes that large and so many bruises had Keigo wincing at the sight of his work.

He also took into account how many times you whimpered or winced at his touch. No doubt about it, you really were in pain, so much pain. As he finished rebandaging your back, he took into account the dark bruises that had yet to show any signs of improvement. God, how hard did he hit you?

You didn't really move as Keigo put away the supplies and walked around the bed, laying on the sheets with you. He was on his side, wings hanging off the bed as you stared at each other.

You didn't even notice you were crying until he frowned at you. He pulled you into him gently, letting you cry out whatever you were feeling.

Internally, he hated himself. Keigo didn’t like this new you. There was no fire inside you anymore. He was happy to have a housewife, but not at the cost of you losing yourself.

Keigo wept silently as he held you, realizing how badly he had broken you.

He never intended it to be like this.

daddy’s favourite issue - enji todoroki

rating: e (18+) reader: f summary: loving the great endeavor was a euphoria you never wanted to quit. he was an inferno, a blazing glory of an old man who doesn’t talk to his kids because they all hate him. he’s a bad man wrapped in the packaging of a good guy, a hero.  tags: smut, rough sex, riding, sugar daddy au, filth.

Keep reading

What if he opened his mouth like a baby bird when he was hungry before the HPSC trained it out of him

Uhm excuse me what the actual fuck are you doing in my hous

What will happen if we combine Scumbag! Hawks + BirdBrain! Hawks? 👀👀

Dealing With an Asshole Bird (NSFW)

(This is more obsessive than scummy, but I hope it pleases!)

Warning for Yandere vibes

— Birdbrain!Hawks is a dumbass, but he’s a powerful dumbass. If he has his sights on you, you’re gonna have a hard time escaping.

— You’ll find this bastard in your home somehow, tidying up your room to impress you. He’s very patronizing as he describes how messy your ‘nest’ is. “Good thing you’ve got an organized guy like me around to help you out. Lucky girl!” He brought some of his belongings as well, and combines your stuff with his to transform your bed.

— Don’t lay on the bed. Settling on the nest that he made tells him that you accept his proposal to be your mate. Turn around and go sleep on the couch or something. Actually, just leave the house.

— Wait, don’t do that either. What are you gonna do, tell people that the Number 2 hero broke into your house and began aggressively rearranging your things? He’ll just chase you down and get everyone on his side in no time.

— Well I guess you’re Hawks’s mate for now. At least the sex is good. He’ll always give you a grooming session after doing the deed, but he’s still talking down on you every other minute. “You’re always such a mess after I fuck you. At least I’m not the type to bang and leave. Without me, you’d just be lying here...all sticky and fucked out.”

— Hawks negotiates with the Commission until they allow him to bring you along during work. After all, he can’t let his careless and helpless mate out of his sight. The Commission is very aware that he’s an idiot bird and will entertain his avian side if it means he keeps doing his job well.

“You can’t just put me in danger while you fight villains!” You say.

“Aww, my baby bird forgot that she’s talking to one of the top heroes. Like I’ll let you get hurt on my watch. You’re so precious ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵘᵗᵉ ᵈᵘᵐᵇ ᵇᶦᵗᶜʰ.”  

— He’s extra flashy around you, using unnecessary and extravagant moves while you try to stay out of harm’s way. If you try to run off when he isn’t paying attention, he’ll screech and hop around in a tantrum. To prevent an angry birb, praise him and feed him strips of meat every time he rescues someone or catches a villain.

— He’ll become a panicked squawking mess if you escape him, and the Commission is going to hunt you down because “Hawks is going apeshit so get your ass back over there.”

— You’ll get a scolding once you’re returned to him. A surprisingly angry one. “Do you know how dangerous it is running off alone? You don’t have any talons or wings to defend yourself with!” Try tossing a dark cloth or blanket over his head. The darkness will calm him and he’ll quickly forget what he was so pissed about.

— What are you doing eating that solid food? You might choke, silly bird. Let Hawks eat and regurgitate your meal. Now it’s mushy with a coating of wet love! You’re just staring at the gross pile of pulp while he eagerly stares at you like:

“Hawks...uh...this is very sweet of you, but I can eat whole foods just fine. In fact, I’m not even hungry right n--”

“Nevermind this shit looks bomb and I can’t wait to gobble it up.”

— I know you really don’t want to, but try to keep your ‘meal’ down while he’s around.

— You’re not allowed to be near mirrors alone. There’s always another winged bastard hanging out with you. Hawks has no idea how he keeps getting into the house, and he looks just like him, like he’s trying to fool you. And knowing how clueless you are, it might work! For all Hawks knows, you probably brought the imposter home because you thought it was him!

“Hawks, calm down! It’s you in the mirror!” You say.

“Are you serious? You really can’t tell me apart from this asshole?!” He says while sounding truly hurt by your words.

— He attacks the mirror, shatters it, and knocks himself unconscious. When he wakes up, he discovers that the phony is finally gone! Sure, Hawks may have blacked out and is suddenly covered in cuts, but the bastard is finally gone! Serves him right!

— Ah shit the fake fucker is back in another mirror.