Yandere Keigo Takami - Blog Posts

Fragile Little Thing [Yandere Hawks x Reader]

Title: Fragile Little Thing [Yandere Hawks x Reader]

Synopsis: Your “boyfriend” is having a rough day and he doesn’t appreciate you being such a difficult partner. If you can’t behave, maybe he can’t behave, either. 

For request: a fic with Yandere hawks. Maybe he breaks/ ruins something extremely precious to his darling. Something that money just can’t buy.

Word Count: 1800ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped, abuse

The muffled sounds of Hawks returning to the apartment are all too familiar. Jingling of keys. Click, click, clicking of the locks. You know he’d love it if you greeted him at the door, like you used to do. Which is partially why you choose to remain in bed–though really, you’ve hardly left it since that morning, except to greedily drink water from the tap and use the restroom.

So it comes as no surprise when the door to your ‘shared’ bedroom opens and Keigo stands in the doorway, looking disapproving and sad and–you catch it, in the way his eyebrows furrow–slightly annoyed at the way you’re in practically the same position as when he left: curled up on the bed, holding onto a pillow like a shield in front of you.

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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.

I’m so excited for all the new things you’ll be writing :D if you’re cool with it, could you write hawks with a broken darling and him just providing comfort? I’d imagine that when it comes down to it, hawks wouldn’t be all too happy about having his darling become a shell of who they used to be. I feel like he’d just hold darling and pray with all his heart that he’ll fix the problem.

Title: Sunday Regret [Yandere Hawks x Reader]

Synopsis: He didn’t meant to do it. And now he’ll do what it takes 

Word Count: 1312

Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, mentions of violence

 If he wasn’t in the middle of cooking, he’d probably carry you into the dining room for a change of pace. But he doesn’t want to burn it, lest you get scared at the sound of the smoke detector. 

You haven’t moved from your spot on the sofa in hours. If it weren’t for him, you’d probably still be in bed, tucked on your side, alternating between staring at the wall and burying your face in a tear-stained pillow. 

But it’s not good for you to lay in bed all day, so he carefully picked you up and carried you into the living room after a while. He even left your walker next to you, though you’ve never bothered using it.

You don’t bother doing much of anything, anymore.

At least the living room had more stimulation for you than the bedroom. He worried when you spent hours in there, staring at a blank wall. In the living room, there were books or decor to look at, or he could turn on the TV or play some music, if you wanted. Not that you would say what you wanted, because you haven’t spoken properly in… he doesn’t want to think how long. You’ve made noises. Grunts of assent or disagreement. Sighs. Whimpers, sometimes, at night, when you think he might be sleeping.

He didn’t mean to break you down like this. Truly. How was he supposed to know--know what would happen, and know his own strength. You probably don’t believe him, which hurts (you’re supposed to love him, after all) but he didn’t actually mean to break your leg. You were trying to run, and you made it outside and tripped--all your own fault--and when he’d grabbed your leg as you tried to scurry away, he’d gripped your calf and then.

Crunching. Your screams, no, they were more like wails, primal sounds that made his gut curl. He’s not proud of the way he slapped a hand over your mouth, then, pulling you inside with no delicacy, only hurried fear that someone heard you and might come snooping.

And maybe he shouldn’t have screamed at you after dropping you unceremoniously on the bedroom floor, maybe he should have offered you painkillers right away instead of jabbing a finger in your face and telling you that you could just-deal-with-it.

Maybe if he’d treated you tenderly from the moment of the break, you wouldn’t have become so depressed and downtrodden. The next day, stuffed with painkillers and leg wrapped (courtesy of a favor--no questions, no answers) you simply… stopped existing. You wouldn’t talk, barely nodding or shaking your head at his requests. You stopped bathing yourself--getting to gently bathe you in the tub himself is one perk of all this, he thinks, though he’d never say it out loud. You barely eat, and when you do, he usually needs to feed you.

He’s threatened you with a feeding tube and you didn’t even flinch; he doesn’t want to go that route, but he can always call in a favor. You sleep erratically, sometimes all day, sometimes all night; you stare ahead of you for hours, tears leaking onto whatever pillow is tucked underneath your head. All of his attempts to get you on a sleeping schedule failed, so he stopped trying. You probably needed more sleep to let your broken leg heal, anyway.

He tries to be understanding, because in a way, this is his fault. If he’d been a better boyfriend, you wouldn’t have tried to run from him, and he wouldn’t have broken your leg. (He often reminds himself, that if you hadn’t run away, he never would have needed to grab your leg--but what good does it do to point out that it’s partly your fault, too?)

Besides, he knows that you need lots of forgiveness right now. You’re hurting.  You’re sad. But it’s hard. It’s hard. And he doesn’t blame you, not really, but he wishes he had someone to talk to about his problems. He misses you. He misses watching TV together. He even misses the arguments, in a way. At least you were talking. At least you were feeling something other than the sadness that kept tracks of tears on your cheeks all day.

Maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference in the end. Maybe you would have done this regardless.  It’s not important. What is important--and he knows this in his heart--is that the regrets it, all of it, and he’ll never do it again. And he’s going to make sure you get better by being the best damn boyfriend there is.

“Lunchtime, babe,” he says, quickly scooping together two bowls of rice, some veggies, wanting to keep things light on your stomach. It’s easier to feed you when the vegetables are soft--he worries less about you not chewing properly, at least--so they’re a bit overcooked, mushy in the bowl.

You don’t respond. But it’s okay. He doesn’t expect you to. If anything, this entire ordeal has taught him a lot about considering your needs. He wasn’t exactly a great boyfriend before all this. He got a bit too selfish, making you sit on his lap, getting annoyed if you cried while he made you try on lingerie. Now, though? It’s all about you.

So if he has to miss an interview because you broke down sobbing in the tub and need to be held for a while, so be it. If his new couch gets food stains because you don’t want to get up and he feeds you right from the comfort of the sofa, so be it.

Whatever it takes--he’ll do it.

When he cranes his neck back into the living room, the sight makes his feathers rustle. You’re standing, leaning on the walker he’d left behind, arms trembling from the effort. You got up! It’s the most you’ve done on your own in a long time. A grin instinctively breaks out and he can’t stop himself from practically running up to you, eyes bright, smile brighter.

“I’m so proud of you,” he says, practically breathless from the change. “Do you--shit, this is great, do you want to do something? What do you need? Want to take a walk on the balcony or--”

He pauses when he sees your mouth moving, sees you looking at him with sad, puppy-dog eyes. It’s a tentative gesture, and he’s reminded of an infant, staring at their parents and trying to force through words through unpracticed lips.

“I--I--I…”

He rises up on his toes in anticipation. Moving on your own and talking, all in one day? Maybe this is your breakthrough, maybe this is it, maybe he’s pulled you across that threshold back into health. Back into you.

But you don’t--can’t--finish whatever it was you wanted to say. You huff instead, sighing in defeat, face falling and thick tears dribbling down your splotchy cheeks as you give up entirely.

You burst into short, pitiful sobs, arms shaking violently as your grip on the walker weakens, as your physical strength seems to drop.

He doesn’t wait, and immediately swoops you up in his arms, cradling you as he sits on the sofa, careful of your leg as he tucks you into his lap. You don’t resist as he pushes your head towards his rest, letting it rest there as he rubs your back, stroking softly.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “I’m right here.”

It makes you cry harder, leaning your face into his shoulder like you do the pillows on the bed. Which is good, isn’t it? You’re getting it out. And when is the last time you let him hold you like this without struggling, legs and arms kicking, nails scratching?

So he won’t deny that he enjoys this moment, enjoys getting to comfort you in the way he’s always wanted to; in the way that you’ve always, especially right now, needed.

It might take a long time to get you back to yourself. But he’ll be here, every step of the way, waiting for you to come out on the other side.

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've been a sucker for Poly Dabihawks/hotwings, so can I request poly dabihawks NSFW with a female darling who escaped and almost told the cops what happened but hawks just tells the cops she's drunk, they'd believe the number 2 hero more than some civilian, right? Can you make it 🍥 with collar and leash kink, hair pulling, and sadisim with burns and stuff?

AAA, I love the burnt chicken pair. And of course you can request that!

Shouldn’t have done that 🍥 🎂 🍮

MASTERLIST

Word count: 5k

Contents: Yan!Poly!DabiHawks punishing fem!darling who escapes.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. NON CON, PUNISHMENTS, MANIPULATION, HEAVY SADISM, BURNING, LEASH AND COLLARING, HAIR PULLING, DEGRADATION, FEM!DARLING, DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND DEATH, ORAL (GIVING), BRANDING.

You don’t know how much time you’ve been trapped here, considering that you had no contact with the outside world. The television doesn’t have a news channel for some reason, so you can’t figure out if the world knows you’re still alive, if the world still cares about getting you back to safety.

Tears pool at your eyes, you know Dabi will be angry if he sees you crying again. You don’t want to piss him off, he scares you. And you know that if Keigo sees you crying he’ll force cuddle you, he’ll force you to talk to him about why you are crying, and if you tell him that its because you miss the outside he’ll be the one that's pissed off.

You hiccup heavily, but something inside you sparks when you feel a current of cold air hit your back. Your breath hitches, and you run outside of your room towards the kitchen, where the backdoor is.

Its open.

Its open.

Its a trap.

Or is it?

You step outside for a second, barefooted and feeling the warm sun hit your face. You giggle at it, you’ve missed this so much, tears quickly find their way in your eyes again. 

You take another step, and another, and another, and yet another one. You start walking, getting away from the house of nightmares. You walk faster, trying to find somewhere safe, somewhere you can run to, a friends house, a family members house, something, anything. You start running, the smallest of sounds feeding your paranoia of both men running to catch you. 

You run, not caring about the curious looks of people around you. You don’t care, you need to run, you need to hide, you need to find someone who helps you. You look around, you look at the sky for the menacing silhouette of one of your captors, circling around you like a vulture at a dead animal.

You run again, your feet are burning but there’s nothing you care about except running away. There’s no compassion, nobody offers to help you, nobody offers to lend you a hand, to ask if you’re okay, this feels you with rage, but also with fear.

You keep running away, trying to find a familiar face, maybe an old teacher that you had on high school, maybe a pro-hero that wasn’t completely insane, maybe a friend you hadn’t talked to before your disappearance, that aunt you didn’t see often, the old man that sold you vegetables on the weekends, your boss, a co-worker, anything, anyone, please.

And then you saw it, a police officer. A person who could empathize with you, a person who was also quirk less and could see how to help you.

Hawks enters the house, chirping happily. He brought you your favorite food since he has seen you a bit down this last couple of days and he wants to chirp you up.

“Hey, duckling! I have a surprise for you” he places the takeout bags on the kitchen counter, curious about the fact that there’s not a single sound on the house.

‘Maybe she’s asleep’ he thinks, stepping towards the room. He doesn’t find you there ‘maybe Dabi took her somewhere, I’ll call him’ he thinks again, trying not to panic. He dials the number, the scarred man picking up quickly “ ‘sup, birdbrain?” he asks “everything alright?” 

“Is y/n with you?”

“Why would I take her with me? its not ´bring your baby to work’ day” he says sarcastically, picking up what was wrong in the situation “she’s hiding, Hawks. Don’t worry, she’s hiding on the cabinets again, I’m sure. I’ll come back there, c’mon wait for me” 

“Fine, hurry up” he sighs, hanging up, maybe he’s right, you must be hiding. He’ll let you stay there for a moment, if you come out before Dabi gets here he’ll negotiate something so you don’t get punished. 

And he gets there quick, entering the house panting. “Did she come out?” he asks trying to catch his breath, Keigo shakes his head. Dabi sighs heavily “c’mon y/n, its not funny” he yells towards nowhere “we won’t punish you, doll. Its alright” he’s telling the truth, he can understand why you’re afraid, maybe you broke a plate, maybe you spilled some water, maybe you did something stupid and you’re scared “baby, we’re gonna find you anyways, so come ou-” he can’t finish the sentence, the backdoor of the kitchen opening.

He had to fix the lock, Hawks told him.

Well shit.

Hawks doesn’t even tell him, flying out the door towards the city. You ran away, its alright, maybe you were going to tell them, maybe you were gonna buy something, maybe someone broke in and you were trying to run to safety. 

But he’s boiling in anger when he finds you, you’re trying to reach a police officer. But not so fast, he scoots you in his arms in the blink of an eye, not even giving you a chance to get anywhere near safety.

“What the hell are you doing?” his eyes are sharper than usual, and his voice is stern “better have a good explanation for this” he hisses, lifting you up high “you’re in big trouble, y/n” he keeps talking “this is probably the single most stupidest thing you could have done in your life time” he rushes towards the house “what I’m saying is...” he opens the door and uses one of his feathers to push you inside “you shouldn’t have done that”.

Dabi receives you, is usual mischievous grin is gone, it makes you shiver. He sits you down on the couch, you try to run towards your room, to hide from them, a burning hand stops you. You yell and cover your face in a reflex, Dabi can almost pity you, but that won’t stop him from doing to what he has planned.

“Well, explain yourself” he stands there with his arms closed, cocking a brow while Keigo locks all of the doors. He forces you to sit down on the couch, you’re sobbing and shaking. He has to control the urge to comfort you, to let you cry in his big strong arms while birdbrain scolds you. But he can’t do that, you fucked up big time, and you don’t deserve the treatment he wishes to give you.

You can’t explain anything you did, and you don’t even regret doing it. If only you had told the cops you would be safe by now, that's the only thing you regret about this whole situation. You sob heavily, hyperventilating and trying to find a way to demand them to let you go, tell them how much you despise them, how much you hate that stupidly kind and warm smile Keigo gives you every morning, how much you want to puke every time Dabi calls you a sweet pet name.

“I hate you!” you bark at them, red eyed and completely contrary to your docile and meek attitude. Hawks’ wings puff up, making him look more menacing than before, his eyes sharpen. And one his feathers places at your throat, sharp and ready to slice it open. Your breath hitches, you still bend and break as easily as before. He removes it from there, not a single wound on your body.

Yet.

Dabi can feel sadness and anger accumulate inside him, he grabs a handful of your hair. You yell, you scream, you plead for him to let you go, that you didn’t mean it, that you are sorry.

“You dirty fucking liar” he hisses, his grip on your hair is hard and unescapable, he throws you to the ground, your scalp hurts  and tears pool at your eyes. You hear something unbuckle, and your previously closed eyes open wide at the sound, is he going to hit you with his belt?

He sits down, still holding you in place with his hand. If you try to struggle he will hurt you badly, so you only await for what's prepared for you. He pushes his pants down, not all the way, just enough to let his semi-hard cock peek. You start crying now. Your knees are bruised from falling down forcefully, you would expect the blonde to stop him, to tell him that what he is doing is wrong and that they are the ones that should apologize.

But that moment never comes.

Dabi uses the already hard grip on your hair to pull you closer to the head of his cock, your nose and lips touch the thick length and you have to contain the urge to puke at the sight of that pierced dick in front of you. Its bigger than average and you know it, you can see little white hairs growing at his lower abdomen. Its seems hygienic enough, but you just can’t help but be so disgusted about it, maybe its because of the person carrying it.

Keigo smirks, already knowing what Dabi has in mind just by the sight of you being forced on his cock, you open your mouth reluctantly, but he shoves his length inside you quickly, making your eyes crystalize as you gag down on that piece of meat. He gets closer to you, not saying a word, just slowly unbuckling his belt as well. Dabi looks at his golden eyes, sharing a mutual pleasure of finally getting a taste of you.

They had contained themselves, wanting your first time with them to be consensual and loving, but it seems like plans have changed. Dabi pulls your hair as he pulls your mouth away from his cock, instead forcing you closer to Keigo’s. “C’mon, please him” he orders, you don’t say anything. Your eyes reflect the most anger they had ever seen someone had “be a good pet” your eyes open wide and your brows furrow “I don’t want to” you say in a thread of voice, Dabi chuckles gravely “that was an order, not a request” he says, sending a shiver down your spine. 

You open your mouth again, Dabi lets go for a second, letting birdbrain take control of the pace he is going to fuck your mouth with, you try to escape, instead earning a slap on your face, its feels as if you’ve been hit with a hot iron, you cry harder, but none of them comfort you, instead a soft hand pulls harshly at your hair. He inserts his length all the way into your mouth, neatly trimmed blonde pubic hairs tickle at your nose, but the fast pace he fucks your mouth at doesn’t allow you to focus enough on that. You’re tempted to bite down at his length, to chop it and make a bloody mess, would he kill you if you did? Was it worth it to taste your luck like that?

You decide its not, only sucking and pleasing that winged psychopath. “Gonna fill your throat so good” he groans, you internally plead that he doesn’t cum on your mouth, you just hope that he will have the mercy to not stain your insides with his filthy cum. “Watcha’ say? I wanna se her pretty little face covered in cum” he invites Dabi to join on his malicious plan, you want to scream. But when the scarred man joins him stoking his cock, and you feel him pull out, your face gets covered in cum as you gasp for the air that your lungs where craving. Sticky, hot ropes of thick white liquid stain your lashes, nose, lips, temples and every part they can reach. Those monsters on top of you have the audacity to laugh at your teary eyes.

“Aw, don’t cry birdie” Keigo pets your hair, you tense “you owed us this for what you just did, and I think you owe us even more” he whispers the last sentence, this time you tremble.

“Go clean yourself up, whore” Dabi instructs, pulling his pants up and searching for a cigarrette to smoke. You can’t move, instead hugging yourself while tears run down your cheeks. He pulls your hair again, forcing you to stand up. You cry and scream for him to let go “don’t piss me off more, go do what I told you” his eyes narrow “Or are you that dumb of a mutt that you need us to do it? Is that it? Are you just a stupid useless bitch that needs their masters to help them behave?” he asks, you kick and scream trying to free of his grip. Its a pitiful scene, your face is covered in cum and your hair is messy, your eyes and lips are puffy. He smiles at how much power he has over you “well then you should have told us” his smirk grows “we’re always happy to discipline a bad little doggy”.

You only cry and beg him to let go, you’re abruptly thrown to the ground, you curl upon yourself. Trying to catch your breath. You lift up your dress and use the skirt to clean the things that cover your face. You look at the remains attached to your skirt, and you almost gag at how disgusted you feel. Its horrible, you regret every part of this god awful day.

You wonder what would have happened if you didn’t run away, if you compliantly waited for Hawks to get home and told him in a soft voice “I think Dabi left the door open by accident, Keigo”. He would frown and ruffle your hair, and kiss your cheek “its okay, birdie. I’ll fix it in no time”. He would use his feathers to do the job, he would fix it in no time and would feed you with whatever those take out boxes had inside. It would be a nice day, he would let you watch television while cuddling with him. When Dabi came home Keigo would scold him, you would giggle at their fight without them noticing.

“Stupid burnt piece of shit! You left the door open, what if something happened to y/n?? What if someone entered and took her away? You’re lucky they waited for me to get here and fix it”

“Well, you could have closed the door yourself, not my fucking fault” he would smirk as he exhales smoke purposefully on Keigo’s face.

You would kindly ask them to stop fighting, Dabi would sigh and kiss your forehead “don’t worry doll, I won’t kill this stupid bird man” he would smile “yet” he would whisper high enough for Keigo to hear, you would giggle again, this time he notices. His blush and anger disappearing and being replaced with a soft smile.

Maybe if things had been different this situation wouldn’t be happening. They would lovingly caress your body, Keigo would place some soft kisses on your shoulders while hugging you from behind, you would feel his pretty cock rubbing at your back and ass. Dabi would place his thick warm fingers inside you, spreading you open as he coos how pretty you look all flustered.

Keigo would help Dabi force his cock in while he is inside, taking you both at the same time. Your glistening pussy stretched out so lovingly that all of the pain of the double penetration would be forgotten. A sweet night of love making.

But that day would never come, not since you did this.

That’s the worse part, you could have avoided this and you knew, but still chose to obey that primal and irrational part of your brain, Did you even stand a chance of getting away? Would the number two hero leave you alone? Would he even be arrested? As you analyze the situation further you realize how much of a mistake you have made, how wrong it was to do this, how bad you had fucked up.

“I’m sorry” you mumble, hoping it would make things right “you should be” Dabi answers. Hawks seems to have disappeared, you can’t feel his presence nor hear his voice. Quickly there’s a sound at the door, Hawks drops a bag on the ground. Dabi stands up, inspecting what he bought with a smile.

The blonde uses one of his feathers to lift you up and bring you close to both of them. He uses both of his hands to hold you in place, not that you would have tried to run anyways, the burning feeling on your cheek reminds you that you should stay still. “Since you wanted to be a disobedient mutt so bad we bought you this” Dabi smiles, placing something on your neck. You know what it its, and you can’t believe this is happening to you. A collar, pastel pink, with little hearts to make the illusion of spikes, the shackle is also heart shaped, its bigger and it seems it has been designed for a matching leash.

Hawks lets go of you, a feather on your throat reminding you yet again to not do anything stupid. He places the matching leash on the shackle, he lets you hold the leather piece on your hands, its pastel pink as well, it has your name branded on it. You look at it with pure horror, not knowing what to do or say, your eyes tear up again as Dabi snatches the leash away from your hands, he pulls at it without a warning making you trip, he catches you in his arms before you fall “careful” he teases, and you contain the urge to fall on his arms completely, to let go and just give them the opportunity to take all of you for themselves just like they wanted, to own your body, mind and soul in exchange of a gentle treatment, of a warm bath and a nice meal. But you don’t, you tremble in his arms as he chuckles again “such a little cry baby” he says, he makes you fall to your knees. And both of them are standing tall in front of you, menacing and completely over powering yourself.

“C’mon, mutt” a deep voice gets you out of your mind, startled you look at them “give us a show, you still owe us something for doing that” Keigo smiles, he tugs at the leash, making you remain on all fours. You don’t really know what to do, there’s nothing you can say, only breathing heavily as you start to panic. But they don’t give you time for that, he tugs at the leash again, and your brain engines start to slowly function “you want me to be your dog?” you ask with a shaky voice “yeah, and for starters: bitches don’t talk” Keigo responds, eloquently as always “so better start acting like one and bark” he says. You start crying “I don’t want to! You can’t make me!” you protests, but earn another wave of laughter at you “Aw, we can’t? Pretty sure there’s a million ways we can break you” Dabi hisses with a smile “so... are you gonna cooperate? Or do we have to give you a little incentive?” that last word makes you feel a fear you have never felt. You don’t want to find out what kind of incentive they’re referring to. It could be violence, it could be drugs.

It could be the death of you.

You gather all of your strength, you gather all of your will ‘I won’t break, I won’t break, I won’t break!!!!’ your mind tells you to run, to fight, to find a weapon, but it also yells, it yells ‘be compliant, be nice, be obedient and maybe you won’t get hurt, and maybe things will go back to normal’ and you decide to listen to that part of your brain, its rational, its something that could work. And so you crawl on all fours closer to them, you’re blushing, you’re crying.

And you’re barking.

You bark, you wiggle your ass in lack of a tail, your tongue is lolling out of your mouth as you pant, hoping its good enough. And it pleases them, watching you loose all of your dignity to make them feel happy, to keep your integrity. Are you enjoying yourself while doing it? Probably not, and that awakes something dark in the back of their heads. 

Still, they just watch you put up that pathetic show in front of them, its not even arousing to them, just funny to watch. And they wonder, should they have resorted to breaking you like this a long time ago? Probably not, you weren’t actively disobeying or disrespecting them. But in the back of their heads there’s something that tells them that they should have. Is it curiosity? Or that morbid feeling that accompanies it? There’s just something that they were craving from you and maybe this was what they wanted. 

You stop, sobbing heavily and covering your face with your hands. They already saw you cry, but there’s something in here that makes you feel more vulnerable, is it the fact that your skirt is covered in their semen? That your face has the hand print of one of them? Or is it the fear that Keigo will actually slice your throat open this time? You don’t really want to find out, you don’t really want to know what is it that you fear so much this time.

It just feels so different, you were already afraid, you were already scared, terrified even, of what they could do to you. You were prepared for anything because of this, to get robbed, sold, raped, anything remotely bad that could happen to you. You were already mentalized for it, just not this, anything but this.

It wasn’t the sexual aspect of it that disgusted you so much, it was how vulnerable it made you feel, how naked you feel, how exposed, how deprived of any free will you have been ever since this whole thing started. And it was the guilt, you were feeling guilty about doing this, not only because of the punishment you were receiving, because of what you did. Was this the start of Stockholm syndrome? Maybe it was, you felt guilty. You felt guilty because you could see the sadness in Keigo’s eyes whenever you assumed the bitter memory of you escaping and almost telling someone came back to his head. Because you could see how Dabi wanted to stop this and comfort you, you could see it in his body language, how he bit his lip harshly at the sight of you on the floor, with a slap mark that he caused.

You were guilty because you caused them pain, you caused them harm. Were you the one to blame for this? You didn’t really know, it was all so confusing. 

And you heard them sigh, one of them at least. There wasn’t a tug at the leash, just a pet to your head. You looked upwards, facing the black haired man giving you a warm smile, you cried again, your  lip wobbling as you hugged his legs. “I’m sorry!” you screamed, because you were. 

Hawks was crying to, he hated to cause you pain, and he knew Dabi did as well. It left a bitter taste on their mouth, considering how much they were harmed as children and even as adults, they hated to cause you any sort of pain. They were the ones feeling guilty, they just wanted to stop this.

Dabi helped you get out of your dress, tossing it away as Hawks searched for something more comfortable to put you on. You were naked, but you felt less vulnerable and exposed than before. Keigo entered with an oversized hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, it looked comfortable enough. But just when he was about to help you get dressed Dabi stopped him. Keigo arched a brow, silently asking him what the fuck was he doing. 

Dabi stared at you with his ice cold eyes, wondering if what he was about to do was right. Your punishment had ended, but he still felt that he had to do it.

“I’m sorry” he mumbled, loud enough for both of you to hear it. Hawks blinked twice in confusion, what was he apologizing for. But when he felt the heat emanating from his body he knew exactly what he was about to to.

And the idea didn’t sound as bad as he thought. It would only hurt for a bit, and it was worthy it. The bitter flavor on his tongue returned, and he frowned as he used his arms to bend you over and hold you in place, ass up and face down. You panicked, your breath hitching once again, you didn’t put up a fight, instead wondering when would you hear the belt unbuckling once again, and when would you feel your cunt being forced open by Dabi’s cock.

But that moment never came “please, stay still” his low baritone voice resounded in every single part of your mind. You felt heat close to your ass cheeks, and you wondered what you were about to feel, and as a hot finger started tracing something you could feel the worst pain you have ever felt. It traced a letter, you screamed, ear piercing and throat soaring scream. Hawks grip tightened, as he sent some of his feathers to hold you further in place. You tried to move your hips but it was useless, you were firmly held in the spot. You kept screaming, as he slowly traced his burning hot fingers on your soft flesh, it was as if time had stopped, painfully slow as he branded your ass. You wondered what it said, if it was something derogatory, your mind went away and then came back. Was it the sudden cold that hit the burning mark on your skin? It stinged, it burned so hard you wondered if this is what cattle felt like whenever they were marked. 

Tears rolled down your eyes, sobbing heavily as you wondered why were they doing this. Did they find joy in the enormous amount of pain you were being put through? There were so many thoughts and so many questions. Hawks’ grip softened, as he hushed your cries. They switched places, Hawks’ feathers never left the spot that they kept you trapped in, you felt something sharp now, opposed to cold in the unmarked place of your other ass cheek, you gasped when the tip of said sharp object started to dig into your skin, making you cry again, you didn’t beg them to stop, only letting him finish his already started job. You could hear him sob as he continued moving the sharp blade on your doughy skin. You cried harder, as you felt blood dripping down your thighs and exposed sex. And when he finally removed the blade after tracing a set of patterns that you couldn’t figure out entirely, but assumed were letters. You fainted, your mind left your body and you fell limp on the now stained silk linen bed sheets.

You felt so exhausted, you didn’t have any dreams on that state you were suspended in of pure nothingness. You just couldn’t feel anything, any emotions or any kind of pain were simply devoided from your already broken mind.

You woke up alone, when you tried sitting down on the bed you yelped in pain, when you tried to massage the sore region you found it to be even more painful, you curled upon yourself, breathing slow and deep in an attempt to stand up with the little strength you had. Memories from yesterday flooded your mind. Little bit of sunlight entered through the closed window, you looked outside, you weren’t were you used to be. You focused your eyes, only finding a dim sky, cloudy and dull. You sighed, there wasn’t the small patio in the back of the house as before. Instead a plain of grass and a couple of trees standing in the way of your eyesight.

You stood up, staring at the outside trying to figure out where the hell were you. You jumped in surprise when you heard someone open the door of the room.

“Hey, dove” the blonde smiled “I see you like the view” he says with a soft voice, he brings you a glass of water, your throat feels raw as you thank him. 

“Where are we?” you ask.

“Far away” he responds

Dabi enters the room shortly after, his eyes reflect pain and guilt but you don’t comment on it. 

“I want- I want to take a shower please” you say, expecting them to lead you to the bathroom “No can do, doll” Dabi answers “it will hurt badly, in about a week or so you’ll be able to, but for now you should wait” he kisses your hand, making you blush.

“Is it because-”

“Yes” he seems to not want to talk about it, you don’t insist “you’re gonna be here from now on” he states “just can’t risk you running away again” his voice lowers by the moment.

You don’t know what to say, its not like you would try to run away again, after that “I understand” you respond. Hawks smiles at this, at least you understand the situation and won’t do anything stupid.

Like yesterday.

He doesn’t even want to remember it, he feels cruel, he feels like a bad person. It must hurt, your skin was branded and carved with both of their names. But it was worth it, now you’ll never be able to escape, not without a mark of who you belong to.

Them.

Forever.

I hope you enjoy this, darling

Have a great day/night

Title: Pluck [Yandere Hawks x Reader]

Title: Pluck [Yandere Hawks x Reader]

Synopsis: You tried to run–no, fly–away. And Hawks is going to make sure you never try that again.

For request: Anonymous said:  had a thought and I’d love to hear your input! So like keigo or chisaki with like a darling with a winged quirk and then having to pluck and clip your wings so their little bird doesn’t try flying away on them. Btw can I I just say your writing is super super good and characterization is just *chefs kiss* like every piece of your writing I’m like

Word count: 1000ish

Notes: Yandere, violence

It’s that time again. Which is exactly why you’ve placed yourself in between the couch and Keigo. A very unassuming Keigo. A Keigo who is standing, hands splayed, looking all shrugs and smiles. 

You know, and Keigo knows, that he could easily reach you. He could push the couch aside. He could leap over it, fly over it, and reach you in an instant. But that doesn’t stop you from taking refuge behind it, face set in a petulant frown, wings curled protectively around you.

“Sweetie,” Keigo says, and it’s charming, or would be charming, if you weren’t his captive. “I don’t know why you’re throwing a fit about this. You know what day it is. I put it on our calendar." 

He gestures vaguely towards the kitchen, where you know there’s a large calendar tacked up on the wall, edged by taped-up photos of you and Keigo before everything went to shit. Before he kept you locked up, caged, figuratively–well, figuratively most of the time.

Keep reading

Devoured

Content warnings: Dubious / uninformed consent, inhuman anatomy, tongue fucking, oral sex, implied kidnapping / captivity via a yandere Hawks.

So somewhere on Tiktok I saw the excellent headcannon that Hawks actually has an outrageously long tongue like some birds do, which I adopted into my headspace for the smut appeal.

👅

You're tied to the bed again, it's night time, and Hawks is eating you out. It's something he's done pretty often to you since he stole you away. He's always super pleased when you cum for him. There's a part of you that wonders if he thinks the pleasure makes up for the captivity. It doesn't.

His tongue is in beside his fingers, moving nicely, and making you feel so good. Then he pulls his fingers out. You can't help but buck and whine. It felt so good and now he's depriving you of those clever fingers of his.

Instead he hauls your thighs up and apart until their resting against your chest. Once he has you fully spread open for him Keigo dives further in. He's eating you out like a wild thing. His tongue reaching further and further as he makes desperate moans and growls against you.

That tongue of his going further still. Past where his fingers where earlier, and still pushing in. You feel stuffed, overfull like your about to explode. Still, he somehow fits more inside.

It's too much! Something isn't right about this. There's an instinctual little voice in the back of your head that's screaming. You struggle, but he's stronger than you. Your struggles get you nowhere.

You can feel his tongue lashing against your insides. It's reaching deeper than anything but his cock ever has. He twists and prods it against your sensitive insides with lethal focus. You can't stop yourself from bucking and clenching around him.

He laughs, and you can feel the vibrations all the way up into your guts. It feels like starbursts are popping behind your eyes. There is liquid fire in your veins, and it's winding up tighter with every lick and twist.

Eventually it's all to much. You stiffen, muscles clenching around that eerie tongue, and shatter apart in a violent climax. Your screaming. You can't hear anything over the rushing in your ears, but you can feel the scratch of it inside you throat.

He waits for you to finish. Until the tremors have stopped, and your left laying there exhausted. Once you've calmed some you glance down, and are caught in that intense amber gaze. He waits until he knows your watching to start withdrawing his tongue.

The first inch doesn't seem too strange. The second you push out of your mind. It's the third inch that startles you. Still, his eyes hold you fast. That's the gaze of a raptor, a true predator, and you cannot look away. Everything primal within you screams not to move. Don't even blink.

He looks away first. Once his tongue is out and he's leaning propped up on his elbows he glances down at your shivering body. It's then that it hits you what's so strange about his tongue.

It's still hanging out of his mouth as he pants. It's dripping saliva and other bodily fluids down onto the bed. It's shaped just fine, if a little more pointed at the tip then normal, but it's just so long...

It hangs down past his chin by at least a good inch or so. It's the longest tongue you've ever seen on a person, and just the sight of it makes you shudder.

Hawks catches you staring, and grins. A second later it slides back in, and he closes his mouth. When he opens it a moment later everything looks fine.

"Mmhmn, you like?" He teases.

That was inside of you?

"It's an avian thing." He tells you as he crawls his way up your body and grinds his hard cock against your twitching hole. "Worked out in your favor though, right Babybird? Bet you've never cum that hard on anyone elses tongue. Don't worry, you can more of that later."

That sounds like a promise he's all to hapoy to keep, your opinion be damned.

Scrambled

Yandere Hawks x reader

Content warnings: Yandere Hawks, Dubious consent, implied imprisonment, fake egg laying, breeding kink.

🥚

So we all agree Yan!Hawks has a breeding kink, right? Right.

But... Birds lay eggs.

Picture this: Hawks shoving a collection of little egg shaped vibes inside of you. He crams as many of them in there as he can. Then he plugs you up, ties you down, and leaves you there for hours. You're left alone, writhing and shaking as the vibrations absolutely wreck you. No safeword, no mercy, and no way to escape the vibrators logged deep inside you as they rearrange your guts.

Eventually your capture returns. You're a trembling, over stimulated mess on the nest bed, and he's never seen you looking better! It gets him so hard seeing you all full up with his eggs. Your belly bulging, thighs shaking, and that pretty hole of yours all plugged up. Keeping his brood good and safe like a good little breeding hole.

Such a perfect mate! He's sure you'll do just as good laying them for him.

Hawks pulls you up so your sat on your knees in the center of the bed. He has to support you, because your legs are still wobbly from the last several hours, but he doesn't mind. He pulls you tight to his chest, pops that plug out, and starts pushing down on the top of you bulging stomach.

"Yeah sweetheart. Push them out for me. You're doing so good now." He croons in your ear.

You can feel him pressed up against you. He's hard and throbbing, rutting against your ass, but he's careful not to get in the way of you "laying" the eggs.

Between Hawks' rutting, the pressure on your stomach, and the still on going vibrations from the eggs you're inundated with sensations. The easiest thing to do is give in and lay the eggs, so you do.

It's a lot of effort. Your muscles are all exhausted from the last several hours and a few orgasms. Still, you bare down and push.

The vibrators are surprisingly hard to push out. Eventually thought the first one shifts down and starts to drop. You can feel it the whole way out. It runs up against your sensitive walls as it slides down. The vibrations causing you to shudder and sob.

Hawks just shushes you, eager for the main event.

The first egg pops out in a gush of fluid. Hawks had been kind enough to use quite alot of lube when he was cramming you full. Now it's dribbling down your thighs and making a mess of the bed sheets.

Once the first egg slides out, which was both a strange sensation and a pleasant release of some of the pressure inside of you, you start pushing in ernest. You're tired. You want this to be over with. You want to finish up and go to sleep already.

The moment Hawks sees the first egg he goes feral. He grabs your jaw, wrenches you head around, and devours your slack mouth. In-between kisses he's snarling and panting in you ear. "Oh, oh fuck! Yeah baby, you're doing so good. Keep pushing, keep fucking pushing! I want to see you lay our eggs! Fuck!"

The next one slides out a little easier. Your body has adjusted to the movements necessary and the feelings becomes retinue. Soon enough another egg is slipping from you body. Then another.

You lose yourself in a haze after that. You push until an egg slides out, Hawks gets excited, showers you with affection, then shoves down on your belly to begin the dance anew.

When the last egg slips out in a dribble of fluid you assume that's it. You're finished. There's nothing left inside of you. Hawks' hands keep pressing on your middle for a moment, trying to encourage you to push, before the lack of internal vibrations register.

He counts the eggs laying between your spread knees, and moans. Then he wrenches you backwards until you're seated on his cock.

"Look at them. LOOK AT THEM!" He grabs your chin and forces it downwards so you can see. "Look at our brood. Ours. My perfect mate, I filled you up so well, and you took it all! Fuck! All mine, you're mine!"

All you can feel is his thick cock splitting you open, and his swollen balls slapping into you with every thrust. He's hitting you so hard and deep. It's like he's trying to carve the shape of himself inside of you. Distently you realize the punched out noises your making are breathy gasps and screams. You can't hear anything except Keigo though. He commands every bit of you.

He litters you neck with sharp nips and bites. Both sides of it will be black and blue by morning, but for now all you can do is slump against him like a ragged little fuck doll as he uses you.

He slides one hand between your legs, and that's all it takes. Your climax washes over you in an electric wave so powerful that you black out. There's a roaring in your ears, and then nothing.

-

You come back to yourself sometime later. It could have been seconds, or hours. All you know is you and Hawks are still kneeling above the eggs, and he's still positioning away inside of you. You can feel it as he slams into you one last time, and then stills. He's balls deep and throbbing as he cums. The warmth squirting sensitive places inside of you, but he doesn't let you escape. Even as you writhed and begged he held you until he was certain you took all of his seed.

Then he pulled you down, and laid your shivering body down on a dry part of the mattress. He was still nestled deep inside, keeping his cum in, and pressed up against your back. It jostleled you when he lent over and began switching off the eggs one by one.

"Looks like I'll have to recharge them for next time." He sighed.

Ice flooded your veins. "Next time?"

"Oh Babybird," he chuckled. "You didn't think this was a one off thing, did you? I have a whole 'nother box of these we haven't even opened yet. I'm thinking of working you up to double didgets . Doesn't that sound fun?" He asked in a mocking coo.

A quick count of the eggs spread out on the bed informed you that there had only been five inside of you. Hawks wanted to double that.

"No." You wheezed, but he only laughed.

You both knew he wasn't giving you a choice.

Been thinking about Yandere Keigo...

TW: Kidnapping, murder, noncon, isolation, stalking, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome

Reader has gender neutral pronouns with afab body

Keigo Takami isn't the worst yandere, lucky you. When you pique his interest, he'll try to be nice about it. He'll approach you and make a bit of small talk, before asking you out.

Say yes? Pefect! He'll give you the time of your life!

Say no? Oh... That's fine! But please be wary, Keigo isn't giving up so easily.

If you refuse, well, coincidentally your boyfriend, if you have one, has been murdered the next day! Oh my god! No boyfriend? It's your best friend. And guess who's at your door? Keigo! Here to comfort you over the loss.

How did he know? He hacked into your social media Well he looked at the victim's phone to get some ID, and his lockscreen was a picture of you and him.

Wait, how do you know where I live? He followed you home the day you rejected him He was on patrol and saw you through the window.

He'll be there for you, comforting you, rubbing your back gently as you cry into his chest and soak the fabric. All while you don't see the grin on his face.

Odds are you'll probably develop a close friendship. Visits from Keigo happen often, and he'll try to win over your affection with gifts. He stalks you to find out what things you like He's just so considerate!

Soon he'll ask you out again, "We've gotten to know each other a lot better, now, so I hope you wouldn't mind dinner at my place?" Please accept the offer. Keigo doesn't want to be yandere, he really doesn't! He just wants a nice, normal relationship.

But if all else fails, yes, he will kidnap you.

Like I said before, he definitely isn't the worst yandere to be stuck with. No chains, no restraints. He'll let you wander around his penthouse to your heart's content! Yes, you heard me right. He keeps you in his penthouse. Pretty risky. But not to worry, he'll just threaten you with his quirk. One feather on your neck, while he stares down at you with sharp, narrowed eyes, telling you that you better keep quiet. And ta-da, guess who listens? Wouldn't want to worry the rest of the apartment complex, now, would we?

In terms of punishments, he doesn't really do those. He has no need for them. His door has six locks, which he explained in great detail that it was to keep the paparazzi out. And don't even try to escape through the window, unless you feel like falling 40 feet to your death. If you manage to really piss him off though, he'll lock you up in his master bedroom with no entertainment. No books, no TV, nothing. He'll give you food and water, but not much. Oh and please don't eat it all, he's not letting you out for bathroom breaks, either.

Keigo will keep you isolated until he's convinced you've learned your lesson (it's fine he can sleep on the couch). Minimum time to be locked up is two days, maximum is a week. It may sound like a short time, but really, all you can do is just lay around and think about your actions, so it'll feel like a lifetime.

He's sweet. He likes spoiling you. Giving you expensive gifts, he even trusts you to use your phone as long as he gets to look through it at the end of the day.

He's kinky, too. He loves oral more than he actually likes fucking you. You're so fucking hot when you're on your knees, sucking him off, milking his cock for his cum. And don't get me started on the way you squirm and moan as he sucks on your clit, two fingers inside you.

BDSM, CNC, roleplay, everything is on the table for him. Expect him to switch in up in the bedroom every now and then. Oh, you might like to know that he's a switch. Prefers being dominant but he'd be down to let you peg him.

But the real problem comes when spring arrives. When Keigo starts rutting. He would never force himself on you, until he's in heat. If you have an animal based quirk? Good! You two can be in heat together! Any other quirk, or quirkless? Eh... Just play along and be a good little birdie. Because mark my words, hide all you want, Keigo will find you. Don't even scream either, he'll keep his sharpest feathers right next to your jugular, a looming threat as he rapes your pussy, breeding you nice and full.

When you develop Stockholm syndrome, he'll start letting you have more freedom. Quick walks around the city, late night flights over the beach, he may even let you visit his agency.

But your relationship will never be made public. He will say he has a partner, but will never reveal your identity, same goes for your children when you have them. He doesn't want you to be targeted by villains, or even worse, the press finds out about the kidnapping.

Over all, Keigo Takami is a semi-normal yandere. He'll be good to you, if you're good to him in return.

Author's Note: I'd choose Shigaraki in a heartbeat but I've been having a Keigo brain rot and I can't get him out of my head. Doesn't help that I purchased volume 27, either. I'd gladly trade places with Twice, goddamn.

Hunted Down (Yandere Hawks/Keigo Takami x Reader)

           Love wasn’t something that you could run from.

           Hawks had told you that time and time again, reminding you constantly that love wasn’t something that just stood by patiently. No, it was something that ran after what it wanted, that refused to stop until it got it. In the beginning, when he had tried to teach you about love, it had been to let you know just how pointless running would be. It was to show you that you would never be able to escape him or his love for you.

           But it was only now, as you ran through the woods, stumbling over roots and skidding in the mud, that you realized the full truth of what Hawks had been telling you. As much as he loved having you with him—keeping you with him—his love was predatory, something that needed to keep moving. It was not content to simply soak in having you there, as wonderful as it was. Not when chasing you gave Hawks a thrill like nothing else in life.

           No, Hawks and his love needed to hunt.

           That was what you had realized when Hawks had set you back down on the ground just outside this forest, having left his apartment and the city far behind. Folding in his wings, he had reached out to brush a lock of your hair, his calloused hand stroking your cheek as he did so. Not quite sure what to make of either his actions or that gleam in his eyes, you had just stood there, awaiting an answer.

           “You get a ten-minute head start,” was all that he said, not offering any more explanation than that, not even as you stood there for several long moments. At first, you were only trying to figure out what he meant. Once you realized it though, you continued to stand frozen, unable to tell if he was serious. But then, after you took one step back, and then another and another, all the while he stayed in the same spot, staring at you with that same exhilarated grin, you suddenly tore off, not looking back.

           Exactly how long ago that had been you weren’t sure. Had it been five minutes? Or had it been nine? Was he already after you? Had he been this whole time? Were those crunching leaves and snapping twigs caused by animals, or by the winged hero, determined to make the chase more of a challenge by staying earthbound, considering how certain he must have been that he would catch you? Were those creaking branches simply waving in the wind, or were they being pushed aside by the gust of Hawks soaring past?

           Each one of those questions pounded in your head with each step that you took, and every other second you swore that you saw Hawks through the trees. He was teasing you, you could feel it, keeping his distance just enough to make you think that you might have a chance, when deep down you knew the truth. You knew it even as you tore through the undergrowth, pushed yourself past countless trees. It was unavoidable when his gaze was boring down on you from god-knows-where. The truth was that no matter how far you got, how safe you thought you were, his love would never stop chasing you, he would never stop chasing you. He—

           “Caught you.”

           His voice was just at the shell of your ear, so soft that at first you thought that you might have imagined it. But when you felt his wings begin to encircle you, felt his arm wrap tightly around your waist to make you turn to face him, you knew that it was over. Taking one look at Hawks’ hungry gaze, you knew that you had never had a chance, not when you were up against the full force of his love. And when Hawks saw that realization dawn in your eyes, too big for you to push aside or hide from anymore, his grin only grew wider.

           “That was fun,” he murmured, lifting your chin so that your lips just barely brushed against his, a predator sampling his captured prey. “Want to play again?”

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So Far (Yandere Hawks x Reader)

Title: So Far

Synopsis: Follow up to “So Close.” Hawks realizes that in order to build you up as the perfect partner, you’ve got to be broken down first.

Word Count: 2163

Notes: yandere, choking, violence, food deprivation, malnourishment 

You wish you could stand up and properly stretch. But the unassuming crawl space that Keigo unceremoniously pushed you into after bringing you “home” was too small for that. The ceiling was low, and 

You pull your knees up against your chest and wince at the pain in your thighs and legs. The floor was concrete, and the drop had hurt–enough to bruise, at least, but the dim lighting from a single, small window didn’t really provide an opportunity for you to check.

You flinch when you hear the half-sized door open, and not a moment later does Keigo enter, ducking his head  to avoid hitting the ceiling. He has a tray with him, which he sets down in front of you. A glass of water and leftovers from the other night, still streaming from the microwave.

Your stomach seems to growl on cue, but you fight the urge to reach for the food and instead stay still. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of feeding you right now.

Keigo sighs, as if sensing your defiance, and crouches down until he’s sitting on his heels. He stares at you. You stare back, hoping your gaze looks braver than you feel.

“This is my fault,” he says, finally. Low and sad, you can see his lips curling downward in a frown. “I shouldn’t have done this.”

Keep reading

I’m so excited for all the new things you’ll be writing :D if you’re cool with it, could you write hawks with a broken darling and him just providing comfort? I’d imagine that when it comes down to it, hawks wouldn’t be all too happy about having his darling become a shell of who they used to be. I feel like he’d just hold darling and pray with all his heart that he’ll fix the problem.

Title: Sunday Regret [Yandere Hawks x Reader]

Synopsis: He didn’t meant to do it. And now he’ll do what it takes 

Word Count: 1312

Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, mentions of violence

 If he wasn’t in the middle of cooking, he’d probably carry you into the dining room for a change of pace. But he doesn’t want to burn it, lest you get scared at the sound of the smoke detector. 

You haven’t moved from your spot on the sofa in hours. If it weren’t for him, you’d probably still be in bed, tucked on your side, alternating between staring at the wall and burying your face in a tear-stained pillow. 

But it’s not good for you to lay in bed all day, so he carefully picked you up and carried you into the living room after a while. He even left your walker next to you, though you’ve never bothered using it.

You don’t bother doing much of anything, anymore.

At least the living room had more stimulation for you than the bedroom. He worried when you spent hours in there, staring at a blank wall. In the living room, there were books or decor to look at, or he could turn on the TV or play some music, if you wanted. Not that you would say what you wanted, because you haven’t spoken properly in… he doesn’t want to think how long. You’ve made noises. Grunts of assent or disagreement. Sighs. Whimpers, sometimes, at night, when you think he might be sleeping.

He didn’t mean to break you down like this. Truly. How was he supposed to know--know what would happen, and know his own strength. You probably don’t believe him, which hurts (you’re supposed to love him, after all) but he didn’t actually mean to break your leg. You were trying to run, and you made it outside and tripped--all your own fault--and when he’d grabbed your leg as you tried to scurry away, he’d gripped your calf and then.

Crunching. Your screams, no, they were more like wails, primal sounds that made his gut curl. He’s not proud of the way he slapped a hand over your mouth, then, pulling you inside with no delicacy, only hurried fear that someone heard you and might come snooping.

And maybe he shouldn’t have screamed at you after dropping you unceremoniously on the bedroom floor, maybe he should have offered you painkillers right away instead of jabbing a finger in your face and telling you that you could just-deal-with-it.

Maybe if he’d treated you tenderly from the moment of the break, you wouldn’t have become so depressed and downtrodden. The next day, stuffed with painkillers and leg wrapped (courtesy of a favor--no questions, no answers) you simply… stopped existing. You wouldn’t talk, barely nodding or shaking your head at his requests. You stopped bathing yourself--getting to gently bathe you in the tub himself is one perk of all this, he thinks, though he’d never say it out loud. You barely eat, and when you do, he usually needs to feed you.

He’s threatened you with a feeding tube and you didn’t even flinch; he doesn’t want to go that route, but he can always call in a favor. You sleep erratically, sometimes all day, sometimes all night; you stare ahead of you for hours, tears leaking onto whatever pillow is tucked underneath your head. All of his attempts to get you on a sleeping schedule failed, so he stopped trying. You probably needed more sleep to let your broken leg heal, anyway.

He tries to be understanding, because in a way, this is his fault. If he’d been a better boyfriend, you wouldn’t have tried to run from him, and he wouldn’t have broken your leg. (He often reminds himself, that if you hadn’t run away, he never would have needed to grab your leg--but what good does it do to point out that it’s partly your fault, too?)

Besides, he knows that you need lots of forgiveness right now. You’re hurting.  You’re sad. But it’s hard. It’s hard. And he doesn’t blame you, not really, but he wishes he had someone to talk to about his problems. He misses you. He misses watching TV together. He even misses the arguments, in a way. At least you were talking. At least you were feeling something other than the sadness that kept tracks of tears on your cheeks all day.

Maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference in the end. Maybe you would have done this regardless.  It’s not important. What is important--and he knows this in his heart--is that the regrets it, all of it, and he’ll never do it again. And he’s going to make sure you get better by being the best damn boyfriend there is.

“Lunchtime, babe,” he says, quickly scooping together two bowls of rice, some veggies, wanting to keep things light on your stomach. It’s easier to feed you when the vegetables are soft--he worries less about you not chewing properly, at least--so they’re a bit overcooked, mushy in the bowl.

You don’t respond. But it’s okay. He doesn’t expect you to. If anything, this entire ordeal has taught him a lot about considering your needs. He wasn’t exactly a great boyfriend before all this. He got a bit too selfish, making you sit on his lap, getting annoyed if you cried while he made you try on lingerie. Now, though? It’s all about you.

So if he has to miss an interview because you broke down sobbing in the tub and need to be held for a while, so be it. If his new couch gets food stains because you don’t want to get up and he feeds you right from the comfort of the sofa, so be it.

Whatever it takes--he’ll do it.

When he cranes his neck back into the living room, the sight makes his feathers rustle. You’re standing, leaning on the walker he’d left behind, arms trembling from the effort. You got up! It’s the most you’ve done on your own in a long time. A grin instinctively breaks out and he can’t stop himself from practically running up to you, eyes bright, smile brighter.

“I’m so proud of you,” he says, practically breathless from the change. “Do you--shit, this is great, do you want to do something? What do you need? Want to take a walk on the balcony or--”

He pauses when he sees your mouth moving, sees you looking at him with sad, puppy-dog eyes. It’s a tentative gesture, and he’s reminded of an infant, staring at their parents and trying to force through words through unpracticed lips.

“I--I--I…”

He rises up on his toes in anticipation. Moving on your own and talking, all in one day? Maybe this is your breakthrough, maybe this is it, maybe he’s pulled you across that threshold back into health. Back into you.

But you don’t--can’t--finish whatever it was you wanted to say. You huff instead, sighing in defeat, face falling and thick tears dribbling down your splotchy cheeks as you give up entirely.

You burst into short, pitiful sobs, arms shaking violently as your grip on the walker weakens, as your physical strength seems to drop.

He doesn’t wait, and immediately swoops you up in his arms, cradling you as he sits on the sofa, careful of your leg as he tucks you into his lap. You don’t resist as he pushes your head towards his rest, letting it rest there as he rubs your back, stroking softly.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “I’m right here.”

It makes you cry harder, leaning your face into his shoulder like you do the pillows on the bed. Which is good, isn’t it? You’re getting it out. And when is the last time you let him hold you like this without struggling, legs and arms kicking, nails scratching?

So he won’t deny that he enjoys this moment, enjoys getting to comfort you in the way he’s always wanted to; in the way that you’ve always, especially right now, needed.

It might take a long time to get you back to yourself. But he’ll be here, every step of the way, waiting for you to come out on the other side.

Title: Pluck [Yandere Hawks x Reader]

Title: Pluck [Yandere Hawks x Reader]

Synopsis: You tried to run–no, fly–away. And Hawks is going to make sure you never try that again.

For request: Anonymous said:  had a thought and I’d love to hear your input! So like keigo or chisaki with like a darling with a winged quirk and then having to pluck and clip your wings so their little bird doesn’t try flying away on them. Btw can I I just say your writing is super super good and characterization is just *chefs kiss* like every piece of your writing I’m like

Word count: 1000ish

Notes: Yandere, violence

It’s that time again. Which is exactly why you’ve placed yourself in between the couch and Keigo. A very unassuming Keigo. A Keigo who is standing, hands splayed, looking all shrugs and smiles. 

You know, and Keigo knows, that he could easily reach you. He could push the couch aside. He could leap over it, fly over it, and reach you in an instant. But that doesn’t stop you from taking refuge behind it, face set in a petulant frown, wings curled protectively around you.

“Sweetie,” Keigo says, and it’s charming, or would be charming, if you weren’t his captive. “I don’t know why you’re throwing a fit about this. You know what day it is. I put it on our calendar." 

He gestures vaguely towards the kitchen, where you know there’s a large calendar tacked up on the wall, edged by taped-up photos of you and Keigo before everything went to shit. Before he kept you locked up, caged, figuratively–well, figuratively most of the time.

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