#feather play

Hawks sighs as the dull voice of the man at the front of the room drones on,

“Assuming petty crime will continue to be handled by heroes on scene and not require backup, we should be able to focus our main attention on the rising threat of the Meta Liberation Army.”

The speaker is someone he should probably remember, but doesn’t. He meets a lot of people and this guy could easily be the poster child for any of the stuffy bureaucrats Hawks has worked for throughout the years. Having his own agency has its perks, one of which is being able to skirt meetings via a replacement. However this meeting has the rest of the top heroes sitting around the large table that makes up most of the room.

Even Endeavor himself has crammed his massive frame into one of the stiff backed chairs they are all seated in. Without his signature flames, he looks almost comical trying to sit comfortably while the man up front drones on. To his left, Edgeshot listens intently. Next to him, Mirko’s ears twitch occasionally as she and the others have their eyes glued to the suited man still talking about intel Hawks has known for months already.

He sighs and his eyes wander to the empty seat at his right. It’s been months since Best Jeanist publicly retired due to injuries he sustained in Kamino. To the general population’s knowledge, the fashion savvy hero is safe and sound, most likely working on the next bootcut jean trend. Hawks gets an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he looks at the empty chair. Jeanist’s real location is nowhere safe and sound, but rather held in a cold container, a “corpse” waiting to be put on display.

The thought makes Hawks sick to his stomach and while he’s confidant in the plan the two of them had devised, he can’t shake the constant worry in the back of his mind that something might go wrong. It was a huge gamble to bring Best Jeanist himself before the League of Villains, but there was no other way to convince the flame crazed Dabi that Hawks was actually on their side. Dabi’s smug grin of approval as Hawks unzipped the body bag will always be burned into his memory. It was the first time he’d seen the villain smile and he had been surprised when it brought an almost pleasant look to his marred features.

The first thing Hawks had noticed upon meeting with the villain was his eyes. The brilliant blue seemed a stark contrast to the ragged, purpled skin that gave him an almost demonic look. From what Hawks eventually gathered through conversations with Twice mainly, the burns had been a result of a quirk related accident from years ago. After learning the scars were self inflicted, it didn’t take long for Hawks to understand the limits of the fire quirk that Dabi possessed. Sometimes Hawks would find himself staring at he villain. He couldn’t shake the feeling there was something familiar about those eyes and he wondered what Dabi must of looked like before suffering such extensive burns.

Hawks had gotten caught on more than one occasion staring at Dabi, trying to picture him without the destroyed skin and staples. Usually he was good about quickly looking past him, or at something else, but there had been a recent incident where it was just the two of them and things had taken an interesting and unexpected turn. He had gotten caught scrutinizing Dabi as they were in the dilapidated building the League was currently calling home base.

This time the villain spoke up, eying Hawks over the tips of his boots which were propped on the tarnished table in front of the sad looking couch he was lounging on.

“You got a problem with me, birdie?”

His harsh tone was defensive and Hawks quickly tried to brush it off, “Who me? Nah. I was just zoning. Sorry if it looked like I was starin’ atcha.”

Dabi clearly didn’t believe him as he said, “Seems you make a habit of zoning pretty often then.” He cocked an eyebrow, “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were checking me out.”

Hawks hadn’t expected that to come out of Dabi’s two toned lips and it caught him off guard. His feathers puffed slightly as he tried to think of a way to brush it off as another joke, but his usually quick retorts all seemed to jumble together. He ended up just pressing his lips together lest he somehow blurt out anything that might make Dabi suspicious. The silence earned him a low chuckle from Dabi before he stood up. He made his way over to where Hawks was perched atop an old barstool that had come with from the first hideout.

Dabi stood in front of him, hands in his pockets, a look on his face as though he were messing with an annoying child, “You sure about that? We’ve had to work pretty closely for the past couple weeks and I’ve noticed your eyes on me. Makes me curious is all…”

As he trailed off he brought a hand up to fiddle with the material of the signature bomber jacket Hawks was dressed in. Having Dabi so close was making Hawks’ nervous and his wings flattened against his back as he tried to keep his cool, hoping his voice didn’t shake.

“I think you’re mistaken my fiery friend.”

As soon as he let the word friend slip from his mouth Dabi’s hand went from Hawks’ jacket to his throat. His palm was hot and Hawks could feel the rows of staples that went through his palm as he hissed, “We’re not friends.”

His breath was hot against the side of Hawks’ face. Hawks could easily send a few feathers out to make some new scars for the villain, but he found himself with a strange dropping sensation in his stomach as a chill ran down his spine. Dabi’s grip on his throat slackened and Hawks let out a shaky breath. However Daib’s fingers didn’t leave his skin. The rough pad of his thumb brushed under Hawks’ ear as the rest of his fingers wound their way in to the unruly blonde locks. Everywhere Dabi touched was hot and the rasp of his voice so close had Hawks shuddering.

“You and I will never be friends, Number Two. This is business between us, got that?”

His lips brushed the shell of Hawks’ ear slightly and Hawks replied breathily, “Y-yep. My bad.”

“Good.” was all that Dabi had said before leaving Hawks gasping for air he didn’t know he’d been holding in.

The experience had been replayed in his mind a few times since then, and he regretted thinking about it again now as he’s seated in what was obviously a very important meeting. He shakes his head a bit, trying to focus on whatever the man is speaking on now, something pertaining to the media.

A few boring minutes go by. Hawks taps his finger on the table but then a shiver makes it’s way down his spine. His feathers stand up slightly as he feels the familiar vibration through a detached feather he forgot he’d left behind at the League’s. It was a larger secondary feather meant to be a sort of back up should he need to try and get information from a meeting he wasn’t privy to. He’d placed it in an area where he thought no one would look, high atop a dusty cupboard in the dingy kitchen. But it was clear that someone had found it as his body automatically honed in on it’s unique frequency.

He tried not to twitch in his seat as he focused on the muddled vibrations that were traveling over the fine barbs that lined the shaft of the feather. Normally converting the vibration into sound and then into words was easy. But he was in the middle of a very important meeting and it was the most inconvenient timing possible. Still, he weeds out frequencies while trying to pay attention to the man at the front.

There’s something familiar about the waves of sound, and Hawks puts his fingertips together, leaning forward to make it look like he is thinking intently as he closes his eyes and focuses. Sorting out the vibrations is like trying to tune to the right radio station and as Hawks finally hones in on the voice of the person holding the feather, he feels his skin get hot.

It’s Dabi’s voice that was speaking, going a bit in and out, but clearly that familiar rasp. Hawks focuses harder until he can finally hear the villain speaking. Dabi says saying something about the feather being in an unusual spot and then his voice is suddenly crystal clear.

“I know you can hear me, Hawks. Didn’t think anyone would find this feather, hmm?”

Hawks’ wings fluff involuntarily as he feels the vibration from Dabi’s hum. He’s holding the feather so close to his mouth that Hawks swears he can feel the hot breath that ruffles the feather as Dabi blows on it.

“So is it just sound? Or can you feel this…” From his place on the couch, Dabi strokes the feather slowly from base to tip.

Hawks’ hands hit the table as he slams his palms down, eyes going wide. There’s a sensation he’s never felt before happening. It feels like his whole body is being caressed, even down to the most sensitive areas.

The other heroes turn toward him and Hawks quickly says, “Wing cramp! Sorry! Carry on.”

He sits back in his seat, clenching his hands tight in his lap as Dabi’s low voice rumbles through his head, “Didn’t know you had such pretty feathers. Hard to see em properly when they’re being used to try and stab you.”

Dabi’s rough fingers trail down the edge of the feather, separating the barbs and making Hawks’ heart beat faster. He can feel Dabi’s touch. It’s something that he’s never experienced or even considered as he’s used feathers as a way to bug a room so to speak. He’s always just brought them back or severed the connection when he was done. He would have never thought the pressure of Dabi’s fingers at the base of the feather as he twirled it would have Hawks nearly squirming in his seat.

“I hope you can feel this, Number Two. You’ve been a little too cocky from the start for my liking.” Hot breath is blown on the feather and then Dabi’s voice drops to a dangerous level, “I hope you’re not out flyin or in say, I dunno, an important meeting…”

He trails off and Hawks’ heart hammers in his chest, not sure what is about to happen. He wonders if Dabi burns the feather would he feel like he was burning too? Was Dabi about to torture him slowly? A sweat breaks out on his brow and then he feels it.

Dabi runs his tongue up the shaft of the feather, slowly, purposefully. He presses the tip against the central shaft and then flattens his tongue against it as he goes back to the bottom of the feather. The stud in the middle of his tongue pushes through the barbules and the intrusive feeling has Hawks doubling over, panting as he looks down to see he’s hard.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He hisses.

He knows the other heroes are staring and he has to get out of here now. He stands up, awkwardly bring a wing forward to cover himself explaining in his familiar carefree chirp that he needs to go stretch his wings for a second. “Betcha didn’t know you could get a charley horse in a wing haha.”

The laugh is forced and he knows the heroes all raise their brows at him as he shuffles out the door and into the nearest bathroom. He slams the door shut to the stall and stands there, shivering as he tries to calm down. But then Dabi’s tongue is back, curling around the top of the feather.

His voice is so loud inside Hawks’ head, “Does that feel good?”

Hawks clamps a hand over his mouth as he tries not to make noise as Dabi’s surprisingly skillful tongue dips through the barbs on it’s way down to the afterfeathers, which he sucks between his lips carefully. The feeling goes straight to Hawks’ crotch, almost as though the feather is connected to each of his erogenous zones, which are many since he’s a pretty frisky guy and he’ll be the first to admit it. But he’s never been pleasured like this before.

Dabi’s rough voice chides, “It’d be quite the sight to see you coming undone from merely a feather.”

He rubs the downy barbs between his fingers and Hawks whimpers, throwing a hand out to hold himself up as he feels pre starting to leak from the head of his swollen cock. His mind is everywhere at once, and yet he can’t deny the ripples of pleasure that go through him when he feels Dabi blow on the feather again.

He cries out as Dabi’s teeth bite down on the end of the hollow of the shaft and tears come to his eyes. As though Dabi can see him, he says, “Too much? Here how bout this.”

Dabi’s fingers go back to caressing the center shaft slowly and Hawks can’t stop the jerk of his hips. He’s so hard and he’s torn between trying to just make himself cum to hopefully stop things, or to see what else Dabi can do to him with a single feather.

The thought sends heat down over his shoulders and he decides to press his forearm against the stall, leaning his head on it while he brings the other hand up to cover his mouth.

He muffles what would have been a loud moan as Dabi flicks the the top of the feather. His hips rut against nothing. The drag of the fabric of his boxers pales in comparison to Dabi’s wet mouth returning to the hollow of the feather.

“Ah! Fuck…” Hawks bites his hand to stop the lewd noises threatening to spill out of him.

Dabi’s tongue somehow finds the small hole at

the end of the feather and he flicks the wet muscle against it before sucking. It’s the damp heat of his mouth pressed around the feather that has Hawks cumming with what’s nearly a sob. He makes a mess of his boxers, never even having had a chance to try and pull them down to cum into some toilet paper or something.

His legs shake and then they give out, landing him on his ass by the toilet, a panting, sweaty mess. Tears drip down his cheeks and his wings are still twitching from the aftershock of the most intense orgasm he’s had in a while. He doesn’t even know what he’s gonna say to the other heroes, let alone how he’ll be able to even look at Dabi anymore. But, maybe Dabi will think he didn’t feel it if he can play it cool.

Smoothing things out with the other heroes is easy enough. One text of a made up emergency placates them. Hawks is more than fast enough to be in and out of his loft for a shower and fresh clothes before he needs to be back at the Leauge’s that evening. He tries to calm his nerves, as he raps his knuckles on the door in the rhythm the crazed fanged girl showed him. He’s too preoccupied to notice when the door actually opens and then his knuckles brush on the solid chest of the one person he hoped to avoid at all costs.

One of Dabi’s arms drapes over his shoulders, pulling him into the hideout, which is still empty. Hawks sees the feather brought up before him, looking how he feels. Wrecked, wet in places with barbules dislocated and the softer downy curling from spit and friction.

Dabi chuckles as Hawks’ eyes go wide and his wings puff. The arm around his shoulder moves down to his back. Dabi’s broad, warm palm spreads through the middle of his shoulder blades where his wings meet. Hawks can’t help the gasp that falls from his lips and then Dabi’s gravely voice is in his head again, this time with hot breath against his ear and hands that are already exploring Hawks’ pliant body.

“If you really are so desperate to be friends, how bout we add on a few benefits? How’s that sound, songbird?” Dabi rubs the feather between his fingers again and Hawks whimpers as Dabi grins.

I'm torn between going for a cover all and wanting a new card...maybe I'll be an over achiever and do both!? I'm having an absolute blast!

As always, it's here and on my AO3. ❤️❤️❤️