Alright

Bad Touch

Scumbag!Hawks | Keigo Takami x Reader

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

Word count: 5k+

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

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

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

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

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

Hawks was your hammer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stay silent.

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

You say nothing at all.

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

A slow blink is all you give.

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

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

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

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

No matter. You try to ignore him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As he expects, you do nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your lip quivers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t…” you cheep.

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

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

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

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

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

You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?” His pupils widen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You like to think he truly is a monster.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You take a deep breath.

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

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

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

Your lower lip trembles, your eyes watery.

Oh. That grabs his attention.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In a way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shudder.

Working the Late Night Shift

Toji and Jin witness something interesting. Tojin + Gonao and a very tiny mamamegu and megumi!

Part of JJK Domestic Tojin AU

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just saw that hawks and bunny s/o and I gotta ask,,,,what would hawks do if his s/o wore one of those playboy bunny outfits?

Hugh Hefner? More like Hawks Hefner, amirite?! Eh?!!

(NSFW)

Time for more feral!Hawks. So I got a little too into this and basically made an alternate version of my other bunny scenario.

Like, Hawks apparently does model gigs for fashion, right? Imagine that he has an S/O that also models, but for things more..mature. He owns just about every product that you’ve been featured in—magazines, advertising, merchandise—he’ll take anything that has your face on it. Such a supportive boyfriend. Just don’t touch any of his pics; there’s mysterious stains and a stickiness to some of them.

And then there was that one job that had you dressed in a playboy-style bunny outfit. As usual, Hawks received his own copies of your photos and…well, it’s too bad you weren’t there to see his drooling face. The next time you see him, you’re surprised to hear just how enamored he is with your most recent photo shoot.

“I never thought you’d look so delicious.”

“Look at you, acting so small and meek in this shot. If only I was there to taste you.”

“This one’s my favorite. So sexy and delectable.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he wanted to literally eat you.

You got to keep the costume in the end, and since your man loved it so much, maybe you’ll surprise him tonight. Hawks had just gotten home from an active day of chasing down several quick-footed villains, and he wasn’t at all ready for what greeted him in the bedroom.

Then again, turns out that you weren’t ready either. You were expecting several possible reactions. Maybe he’d nut on the spot, maybe he’d faint, maybe he’d drop on his knees and thank you for blessing him on this stressful night.

Instead, he just…glares. You’re not sure what to do as he takes a step toward you with the most predatory gaze you’ve ever seen on a human. Hawks has been chasing down villains all evening, his speed and ambushing skills being put to the test. And now he comes home with traces of adrenaline still flowing through his veins, and you dress like this. You’ve got some damn nerve.

With one strong flap, he’s across the room and on top of you. He just stares down at your pinned form, watching you breathe harshly in confusion and slight fear. Any other time, he would stop what he’s doing and apologize. But this cute little bunny, this scared and helpless bunny that’s shaking beneath a hunter’s hold was turning him into something fierce. His lips crash into yours in a violent kiss before he’s licking you all over. You lay there in scared arousal, having no idea how this all got out of hand so quickly.

He’s growling as he tries to remove your clothing, too frustrated and currently too simple-minded to figure it out. When you motion to help him, several feathers are launched, wrapping around your wrists and holding them down. The look he gives you is sharper than a dagger. He doesn’t speak, but the message is clear: ‘No Moving.’

The outfit is officially ruined by the time he gets it off, and with you wearing nothing underneath, the smell hits him instantly, raw and powerful. You can’t deny that his feral behavior was exciting you, especially when he spreads your legs wide and salivates at your dripping cunt.

His mouth was on you instantly, lapping at you so loudly and sloppily that the sounds alone are bringing you close. He’s snarling and whining like a starving animal that’s ecstatic to finally be fed. When you cum, you try your best to free your legs and scoot away from his greedy mouth, but your struggling only riles him up. Prey is tastiest when it struggles. You’re writhing and moaning weakly while he drinks every drop that leaks from your pussy. Eventually, the loud and juicy meal is finished and he releases you, rising to his feet and leaving you in your paralyzed and drenched state.

Ten minutes later and Hawks is bawling about how he’s destroyed the best outfit in the world, cursing his “damned raptor instincts” to the moon. He buries the remains outside, dressed in all black. You just watch in pure bewilderment while your lower body tingles from small aftershocks, still at a complete lost over what the fuck just happened.

how the great oikawa-san's visit to tokyo to meet kuroo-chan and bokuto went

better than him — touya todoroki

(cross posted from ao3)

wc: 5,272

content: your boyfriend cheated on you, again, and your older brother isn't pleased (or is he?)

warnings: dubcon, incest, minor voyeurism

You nearly threw your phone at the wall when you got the message.

The text was wordless, with only a single video attached from your best friend. It didn’t need an explanation; the video spoke for itself. Your boyfriend was with another girl again, even in the dull atmosphere of the club and through the bad quality of the Snapchat recording, you could make out his stupid face and the hickeys on his neck as clear as day. The taller woman was all over him, hands digging into his hair, pulling his face closer to hers, and you watched as he smiled against her, letting her do as she pleased like he had every right to do so.

You’d had enough, you opted for screaming into your pillow just to let some of the rage out. You could still hear the video blaring on your phone, the club's loud music sounding obnoxiously through the small device. Part of you wished you’d shown up to that event tonight, just so you could be there to beat his ass.

But no, instead, here you were, at eleven in the evening, screaming into your poor fluffy pillow. It felt good, sure, but you still felt like punching something (someone) afterwards. You slapped the pillow a few times, but it didn’t suffice (shocker).

You were only snapped out of your rage when someone knocked on your bedroom door.

“Hey,” Touya said, monotone and evidently fed up with your drama already. “The hell’s gotten into you?”

Your brother had weird ways of showing he cared, even though he would never admit to it. And more often than not, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Go away,” you groaned. You weren’t in the mood for this. Not when you felt like punching someone.

“No,” he said, typical, and then somehow, forced your locked door open.

The sight he was presented with was you on your stomach, face planted into your pillows and your hair completely dishevelled. You kicked your feet on the bed out of frustration, the stuffies and blankets falling off your bed in the process.

“Fucking hell,” he took a step inside and shut the door behind him, locking it. “What I’m getting from this is that you’ve been possessed, am I right?”

“Sure feels like it,” you groaned through a mouthful of pillows, the anger laced in your words perfectly.

“Oh? What’s this?” He said with a smirk. You heard him shift closer and heard the sound of the video change as he took the phone. He rewound it to the beginning, and when he fully understood what was happening, he laughed like he wasn’t surprised at all. As frustrated as you were, you didn’t blame him. You knew he always hated the guy, and obviously, it was for good reason.

“What did I fucking tell you?” And at last, he turned your phone off so the video would stop playing. “Fuck, you want me to kill him for you?”

“No,” you said, finally turning over onto your back so you could face him. He was already in his pyjamas, red flannel pants and a plain white tee that sat perfectly on his frame. And by the way he was standing, you could tell he was angrier than he was letting on.

“Fuck, I wanna be the one to do it,” you continued.

He laughed at that, taking a seat on the end of your bed, picking up a few of the stuffies that had fallen off as he did so. You sat up to face him better, not bothering to readjust your clothes on your body. One of your loose straps was sliding down your shoulder, but it didn’t matter, not when you were comfortable around him. He was your family, after all.

“I don’t wanna see him with you again, got it?”

“Yeah, whatever,” you smiled, you knew he was serious by the way he was glaring at you, and you knew your brother well enough to know he wouldn’t hesitate to kill for you.

“That didn’t sound very convincing, swear it to me.”

“C’mon, Touya, who else do I have?”

“ What ?”

Oh, now you’d done it, hadn’t you?

“I need someone to keep me company, he fills the void sometimes,” you sighed. “I get lonely, you know?”

“No,” he snatched your phone from the bed, “I’m deleting his fucking contact.”

“Touya!” You reached over to grab it from him, but his free hand quickly pinned you down, your back hit the bed, and he hardly flinched as you struggled against him.

“Fuck, where is he? You got him under a fake name?”

“Touya!” You squirmed some more to no avail. “Let go!”

“No, fucking tell me where you put him,” he said, gripping onto your wrist tighter, but not once taking his eyes away from your phone screen, angrily scrolling through God knows what.

How he knew your password in the first place, you had no idea.

You groaned, knowing full well there was no way out of this, “I put him under ‘No Caller ID’.”

“Wow, how sneaky,” he said sarcastically. And just like that, he turned the screen around so you could watch him delete all traces of the contact.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, turning your face away from him. “I’ll just be fucking lonely.”

“Hey,” he tossed your phone away with little regard for its safety. “How can you say something like that when you’ve got the coolest fucking brother in the world?”

“Huh? You tilted your head teasingly, “Natuso isn’t that bad, but you know that’s not what I mean when I say I’m lonely. Natsuo can’t help with… some things.”

“Oh? Good thing I wasn’t talking about Natsuo , then,” there was a growl in his voice, and you knew you’d pissed him off, but you couldn’t help but taunt him further.

“Oh? Who’s my coolest brother then?”

With his other hand, he grabbed your free wrist, bringing it up and pinning it above your head beside the other.

“Me, and you fucking know it.”

“Whatever,” you shifted, trying to free yourself, but it was helpless, all it did was cause your clothing to become even more dishevelled on your frame. And even though you felt comfortable around him, you were beginning to feel humiliated, beneath him like this and showing off just a bit too much skin.

“You still can’t help in the ways I need, if you know what I mean,” your tone fell more serious, hoping it would convince him to back off. But if anything, he only got closer, drawing his face down, breathing just inches away from your face.

“Yeah? Why not?” He continued.

“You’re my brother, ” you tried to push him away, but he forced himself on top of you to restrict your movements, sitting so your hips were between his thighs.

“Think I give a shit?”

Your eyes widened and instantly met his. He was smirking, but you still searched his expression for any hint of humour. He had to be joking, right?

“What?” You shifted beneath him again, trying to ignore the odd way his body was pressing against yours, his crotch dangerously close to your own. You moved, not liking the way it only made him smile down at you harder, his grip around your wrists threatening to cut off the circulation. You really were trapped, and if it was anyone else, you’d probably feel scared, vulnerable and exposed like this.

“Touyaaa~” You whined, “Stop being weird, I’ll tell Mom on you.”

“Mm, will you?” His face was only inches from you now, you gulped and ground your teeth together to stay silent. There was no way you could explain something as weird as this to her, and he knew it just as well as you did. He began to close the gap between you, lips just ghosting over yours, your noses barely touching.

“C’mon,” he whispered, “I know I can be better than him.”

You felt like a stranger in your own skin, heart racing and stomach doing somersaults from the contact. You dug your nails into your trapped palms stupidly hard. He was too close, weirdly close. One hand holding your wrists in place, the other reaching down and sliding underneath your chin, eyes staring into yours like you were his prey.

You swallowed.

“You’re really serious, aren’t you?”

His tongue licked the corner of his mouth, and you pressed your knees together unconsciously. You began to wonder what would happen if you just lifted your head, just a little bit, just enough to press your lips against his. You wondered how he would taste, would it feel wrong? Would it feel just the same as it did with other guys? You wanted to know how he would kiss you, his sister, if it was rough or gentle, slow or wet and sloppy.

It took every fibre of your being to fight away those thoughts.

“Stop it, Touya,” you spat. Still mustering whatever strength you could to squirm away from his firm hold.

“Go on, call Mom,” he chuckled. That stupid grin was still painted across his face, taunting you, tempting you. And at last, he let go of your wrists. You sighed in relief, but even now, there was no way you could free yourself. Not when he was on top of you like this. Not when he was so much bigger than you. You shoved a hand out towards him and flinched when you felt his chest against your palm. It was warm, solid, and for a second, you could feel his heartbeat racing, chest heaving with heavy, frustrated breaths. You pulled away almost as fast as you touched him, but didn’t dare move again.

“Oh?” He taunted again. “Fucking fight it, go on.”

As soon as those words came out, the harshness of his language hit your ears, you were a goner. Completely and entirely lost beneath him. You couldn’t fight your body’s natural reactions much longer. And when it became unbearable to not do so, you bit the bullet, and pressed your lips to his.

And, fuck, his lips were so damn soft.

The snakebite piercings tickled your bottom lip, and when you opened your mouth to kiss him deeper, he didn’t hesitate to slide in, teasing your bottom lip with his tongue piercing and biting down gently. You tried to be gentle with him, really, to not rush into things like a starved person, but Touya was starved, hungry and angry. He kissed you like he had a fucking point to prove. A gasp slipped from you as his tongue grazed yours, and you reached up and grabbed onto his shirt with one hand, reaching up for his neck with the other.

There was a stark hardness on top of you as he straddled you. A large hardness that pressed between your legs deliciously. You broke the kiss as you rolled your hips against him, more desperate for any sort of friction than you would ever admit.

Touya laughed a bit at your desperation, “and you’re telling me I’m the one being weird.”

Fuck. You stalled yourself at that. What the fuck were you doing? You opened your eyes after pulling away from him as much as you could, but his cocky expression was unreadable.

“Oh, no” he smiled, reaching down to peck you on the lips once more, “I didn’t say to stop. ”

He rolled his hips, rolled that painfully obvious erection in his pants against your clothed pussy. You tried to fight back a moan, but your efforts in concealing your pleasure were futile when your heart was racing like this, when your breathing was speeding up like you’d run a marathon, even at only the smallest of movements.

“C’mon, sis,” he continued, placing a peck against the side of your neck, “I know you want this.”

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore his taunts, because fuck, you couldn’t deny it now, not when you’d come this far. You squirmed beneath him again, just to feel him, and as if he’d caught on, he pressed himself into you. Your imagination ran wild, making you want to know just how big it was, how it felt in your hands, inside you.

And when he groaned, you knew, well and truly, you’d reached the point of no return.

“Just once,” you breathed, “and we’ll never speak of this again, got it?”

“Mm,” light pecks on the side of your neck became wet kisses, trailing down toward your exposed collarbone. “We’ll see about that,” he muttered against your skin, and you melted beneath him.

His body ran hot naturally because of his quirk, hot hands traced your sides, playing with your loose shirt, pushing it upward and revealing most of your stomach. You let him, squirming about as if you were inviting him to take everything off.

“So eager,” he smiled, finally lifting your shirt just so it could slide over your tits, exhaling shakily at the way they sprung so easily from your shirt. You tried to cover up, but before you could, he had his hands all over you, grasping, groping, pinching.

“Touya…” The sensation was new to you, to have such warm, big hands all over you like this, like they’d been dying for this exact opportunity. “Don’t be so-”

Your words left you as quick as they came when his hot mouth met your chest, tongue beginning at your collarbones, sucking the tender flesh and making his presence known in the form of gentle hickeys and bite marks. Your back arched into the gentle pain, pressing your chest up into him. You felt him smile against your skin at your body’s reaction, not long before biting down harder, evidently craving more of your cute little reactions to him.

“Mm?” He hummed against you as if daring you to finish your sentence. You couldn’t. Your mind was blank, only Touya occupied it. Touya, your brother, and his warm mouth on your skin, wasting no time in venturing further down, making gentle marks on your tits, tracing dangerously close to your nipples and teasing your sensitivity.

And despite everything, the wrongness of it all, you wanted more of him. You wanted to feel him everywhere.

One of his fingers began tweaking your nipple, distracting you from his mouth quickly closing in around the other, circling his tongue around the gentle peak and taking it between his hot lips. The piercings on his mouth touched you in ways you’d never known possible - with a precision that had your legs shaking for him.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, looking down at him, one tit in his mouth, the other held captive by the sweet torture of his fingers. His eyes opened, icy blue and glaring at you were his next meal. Your breath hitched at the sight, but in no way were you scared.

You needed more. So much more.

You bit your lip and pushed against him, harder than before, hoping maybe he would take the hint. He bit down on your nipple, gentle, but hard enough for you to cry out his name.

“Shh,” he pulled away. “You really want someone to hear you?”

“Please,” you continued, arching your hips up into him again, this time, your voice coming out in a high-pitched, pathetically desperate whine.

And at last, one hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pants, casually slipping under and moving his hot fingers over your clothed cunt. He pressed down harder, rubbing gently where he knew your clit was, and you gasped.

“Wow,” he teased, “someone really is excited, huh?”

It wasn’t like you could help it, not when his big hands felt that good, touching and grabbing you like he knew your body better than anyone else. He shifted his body above you, giving him enough room to begin pulling down your pants. You moved your legs, making it easier for him to slip the fabric away. He tossed them toward the corner of your room, knocking something over in the process, and when you looked up to check, he pressed his lips against yours again, pushing you back down onto the bed and trapping your there, entirely bare beneath him.

He didn’t even give you a moment to breathe before his hands were tugging at the waistband of your underwear, pulling and grabbing until he gave in, tearing the material in two in one swift motion.

“Touya!”

“Hm?” His middle finger found your clit, and your eyes fell closed. “C’mon, tell me how much you fucking love all of this.”

You frowned at him, “just fucking do it.”

“Tell me,” he repeated, “tell me how much you love your brother's hands all over you.”

“Stop,” you breathed, something like dread or guilt filling your gut at his words. But judging by his expression, he felt nothing of the sort. He slid his tongue along his front teeth, maintaining that smirk like the asshole he was.

“So fucking wet for me,” he slid his finger through your folds, achingly slow. “You don’t need to say anything, I know you love it.”

You wanted to hit him, push him off your bed and call for someone to get him the hell out, but your hands were far too busy tugging on his shirt, aimlessly pulling and trying to get it off. He understood quickly, and momentarily took his hands away from you to quickly pull it over his head. He aimlessly tossed it away, and this time, you didn’t care where the hell it landed. As long as he got back to whatever he was doing.

“Poor thing,” he cooed, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles on your clit, his middle finger tracing your slit and teasing your entrance. “You know how wrong this is, but you just can’t bring yourself to fight it, can you?”

You dug your nails into his bare shoulders, almost hard enough to draw blood, but he only laughed as he pushed his finger in knuckle deep.

Without any warning, your grip on his shoulder loosened, but your whole body went tense. Even just one of his fingers filled you up so well, the warmth of it was enough to make your eyes roll back. He smirked when your hips started to buck against it when he didn’t move right away, as if he was pleased by just how desperate you were to feel more of him.

He stayed like that for a moment, simply letting you fuck yourself on his idle hand. And eventually, one finger became two, and he angled his hand in a way that allowed you to grind your clit into his palm. You could feel yourself growing wetter, spilling and leaking all over his hand. And if he hadn’t already felt it, he definitely heard it. The lewd squelching was the only sound to fill the silence except for the sound of both of you breathing, deep, heavy, and both of you undeniably desperate for more.

“Fuck,” you breathed, “don’t m-move.”

You were close already, you’d worked yourself up too much, and his fingers were too damn big, reaching every place inside you without him even having to move an inch. You were so close, and you’d gotten there all by yourself. All he had to do was stay still for a second longer.

You should’ve known Touya wouldn’t cooperate with you.

“Nah,” he pulled his fingers out, painfully slow, making sure to brush it against your clit on the way out. “Not yet.”

“F-fuck you,” you said, collapsing beneath him in an attempt to catch your breath. You heard only the obnoxious sound of Touya sucking his fingers clean above you. Groaning around them like you were the best thing he’d ever tasted.

It was fucking disgusting.

You loved it.

You wanted to know what his mouth felt like between your legs, tongue lapping you up while those big hands of his held your thighs, keeping you still for him while his shoulders forced your legs apart.

“Please, Touya,” you whined. He hovered above you, eyes raking your body as his hands came down to hold you by the waist.

“Poor thing,” he smirked, “about to cum already, and I’ve hardly done anything to you.” You shivered at his words, and when his eyes met yours again, your heart skipped a beat.

“Please-”

You were cut off by the sound of somebody moving outside. The sound of light footsteps was enough for both of you to freeze, staring at one another wide-eyed as someone made their presence known in the room next door.

Where your eyes showed fear and apprehension, Touya’s showed challenge - some sick kind of excitement. Without taking his eyes away from you, he tugged at the waistband of his pants, rough as if in a hurry to be rid of them. He made no effort to conceal the sound of his belt, tossing the heavy thing to the side of your room and allowing it to crash against the wall.

You were about to protest, to scold him and tell him to stop, but once he’d pulled his pants down enough to reveal his boxers, he held his palm over your mouth, fingers holding your jaw firmly and tilting your face up toward his. You whined as he palmed his cock through his boxers, and he chuckled when your eyes widened at the sight of it. Even through the tented fabric, you knew something that big would struggle to fit all the way inside of you. When your eyes slowly drifted back up to meet his gaze, the asshole looked way too damn pleased with himself. He bit his bottom lip with a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly more than ready to devour you, his sweet little sister, whole.

You glared at him dangerously as he pulled his boxers down, just enough to let his cock bounce out, the thing was twice as big as you’d imagined it, thick and the length of it adorned with various barbell piercings.

You learnt something new about your brother every day, huh?

The ring on his tip was larger than the rest, already glistening in precome and just begging to tease the deepest spots inside of you.

With his boxers pulled down around his thighs, Touya moved his hands down to your thighs, forcefully pulling them apart to make room for him to get even closer. You exhaled through your nose as he ran his fingers between your folds again, smiling that same cocky grin as he pushed two fingers inside of you again, curling them right against your desperately needy g-spot. You clamped your eyes shut, fearful to make even the smallest of sounds as the person just outside continued to make noise by your bedroom door. Your nerves danced in your stomach as Touya shifted closer, and when you felt his bare erection against your thigh, your stomach flipped.

His fingers left you again as soon as he felt you begin to shake, the bastard.

And then you felt him press the head against your entrance. He teased it, moving ever so slightly so the coldness of his piercing could be known, and just when it got too much, he pulled his palm away from your mouth.

You gasped for air, as if your supply was somehow going to run out. “Touya-”

“Shh,” Touya soothed as he lifted up one of your legs to rest against his chest. You allowed him to do so, but not without making the apprehension visible in your expression.

There was no way you could be quiet like this, and whoever was outside was bound to catch on.

He pressed his cheek against your calf and waited for your body to relax before carefully pushing himself all the way inside - slowly, agonisingly so, but somehow still nowhere near slow enough to allow you to adjust to his size.

And fuck, did he stretch you fucking perfectly.

You whined, pathetically and far too loudly. But that didn’t matter, because evidently, Touya didn’t give a fuck about who heard you. He pulled out and shoved himself inside with no warning as if it was his goal to break you, to provoke you, to let them hear all of your adorable sounds.

He gripped you firmly and pushed in again harder, balls slapping against your ass as he bottomed out inside you. You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out, and fuck, it didn’t even matter anymore, because you didn’t want him to stop. You needed him to keep moving to give you some sort of relief from the pressure in your gut. You needed him to fuck you until you forgot your own name, forgot about that stupid boyfriend of yours, and maybe so you could forget about the fact that the guy fucking you was your own older brother.

“So fucking tight,” he muttered and dragged his teeth along the skin on your leg, lips grazing your flesh hungrily. He looked down at you as you covered your face with your hands, squirming pathetically and vulnerably beneath him. He had to fight the urge to pluck them away from your face, he wanted to see how desperate you were, but your sounds told him more than enough.

“Please,” you begged, quiet enough so that only he could hear. “Go faster.”

He wanted to listen to you, every urge in his body was telling him to do just that. But more than anything, he wanted to hear you. Touya didn’t give a fuck who heard you. He wanted you to beg for it, to tell him you’ll never go back to that scum of a boyfriend and trust him instead. So he slowed down, even if it killed him to do so. He pumped out slowly, never sliding his cock in all the way, simply teasing you with the head.

“What the fuck,” you whispered through your teeth. “ Touya,” you scolded him, as if you had any right to do so as the younger sibling.

“Show me your face,” he smirked, “Come on, I wanna see you.”

You threw your hands to your sides, glaring at him as soon as your eyes made contact with his again.

What was supposed to be intimidating, a show of your frustration, only caused your stomach to sink. That same guilt, the looming knowledge that Touya was your brother, hung over your head like a bad omen of some sort. His face was usually so familiar, but not like this, not when he was looking at you like that.

“Good girl,” he cooed, pressing a kiss into your inner thigh. And fucking finally, he started moving again, hips snapping against yours unapologetically as his pace quickened.

Your entire body shook from the impact, and clearly, your poor bed frame felt it too. You cringed at the sound of it squeaking, combined with the sound of someone still lurking around in the room next door. Touya chucked, pounding into you even harder as if making as much sound as possible was his goal this whole time.

You couldn’t stop him now. You felt like you were going to split into two when he fucked you like this. You trembled and whined each time his cock bottomed out in the same spot, clashing into your sensitive walls violently, hitting places nobody had ever reached before, especially not like this. He reached places you didn’t even know you had.

“Fucking hell, Touya,” you spoke, shaky and wet as your eyes clouded with tears. You couldn’t handle it, he was too fucking big, too fucking good at this, and he’d effectively fucked you to the point of forgetting your stupid boyfriend already.

Fuck it, Touya was all you needed, it didn’t matter, not when it felt this fucking good.

“Yeah?” He said through a grunt. “Tell me how good I am, sis.”

You knew what he wanted you to say. As if it wasn’t already obvious.

“You’re-” You whined, “ fuck , you’re better than him.”

He rolled his hips into you before leaning down, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, Touya” you cried in his ear as his head fell snugly into the crook of your neck.

He smiled, you felt it against your skin. And of course, he didn’t stop this time.

He fucked you like he meant it, like he’d been waiting for this moment to come for years. It was overwhelming, the way his cock slammed into you and all but tore you apart. His body was warm, too warm against yours, and when his mouth found your neck, teeth grazing the vein and lips sucking harshly, you just about forgot who you were. You couldn’t hold on like this. You were trying to, just to savour it longer, to take in more of him, but it was an impossible feat.

“T-touya,” you stuttered, he chucked, knowing exactly what you were trying to tell him. Your cunt clenched around him perfectly, sucking him in and teasing his release out of him too. “Touya, oh my god.”

“That’s it,” he breathed as he slammed into you impossibly hard as if he was trying to force it out of you. “Fucking come for me.”

You whined his name as you came, only barely managing to stifle the sound of it in his neck. Your entire body shook as he rocked you through it, fucking you relentlessly through your high. Tears were still threatening to spill from your eyes and your legs tightened impossibly around his waist.

“Good,” Touya groaned into your ear, “so fucking good.” You could hardly hear him, not when you were this high. All you knew was him and his cock piercing you like there was no tomorrow.

You barely registered his hips stuttering, and he dragged his teeth over your skin, earning the faintest sigh from you as he bit down even harder than before.

And finally, he came, never giving you any warning before spilling deep inside of you. You whimpered as the warmth filled you, oozing through you and spilling out around his cock as he held you there in his tight embrace. You laid there as you both tried to catch your breath, bodies sweaty and hearts pounding, both of you evidently being hit with waves of what the fuck just happened.

Someone shifted in the room next door again, reminding you of where you were,but neither of you moved. Touya only pulled out of you slowly, wincing slightly at the sight of his come spilling out of you.

He hadn’t meant to, really . (Maybe a little).

But you saw the amused smirk on his face as he sat up, and you felt your body erupt into flames. Shocked at just how fucking proud of himself he was.

He ran a single finger between your folds, gathering the evidence of him that was beginning to leak out before gently pushing it back into you. You gasped when he curled his finger, body shaking pathetically at just how sensitive you were from such a small movement. He looked so fucking proud, too proud, as he studied you, listening to your tiny whimpers and cries as he teased his little sister's oversensitive cunt.

You were fucked.

Because despite everything, you loved every second of it. The wrongness of it all, the secrecy. It all made it so much better.

“Told you,” he taunted, “you’ve got the coolest fucking brother in the world, huh?”

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.

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

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

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

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

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

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

Yours… not so much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“On the count of three, my Dove.”

Fruit Ninja