A streak of light permeated his eyelids. His crimson wings flapped weakly, beating against a frigid wall. A yawn escaped his mouth, and he made an effort to stand, once he realised that he was on the ground. He couldn't be sure where he was, or how he got there. Dragging his legs, he repositioned himself so that he was on his knees. He hadn't yet attempted to move his arms, so he thought about planting them on his thighs and using them to help him stand. However, when he tried, he heard the familiar clink of metal against brick. His few muscles rippled as he mentally slapped himself; had he seriously managed to get captured? It was probably the League of Villains. After all, Dabi had made it more than clear that he didn't trust the Winged Hero - not even a smidge.
That was the most logical assumption.
His sharp eyes darted around the room, although, admittedly, it was far too dark to see much. He tried to rely on his ears, but there were no sounds; utter silence had long since enveloped the dimly-lit expanse. He craned his neck to the best of his ability, glancing at his shackles with nonchalance. He sent two feathers to unlock the chains. They successfully accomplished their task, setting him free. A cute pout found its way on to his features, as he rubbed his wrists, in an effort to alleviate some of the pain.
"Aww, I knew I should have put you in a cage."
The distinctive sound of something metallic being dragged across the wall wracked his ears. He wouldn't admit to being nervous - he was never overwhelmed by nerves. Instead, he plastered on that smirk he was so well-known for; it was the same one that, he had been told, radiated beauty. He had mastered the confident façade - it was like second nature to him now.
"I'd still get out." He countered.
He heard a giggle. "I'm sure. I was a fool to think those wretched things would ever hold you."
You were cloaked in the darkness, veiled from his eyes. He could tell now, however, that you were female, and he was positive he had never encountered you before. Surely he would have recognised that voice; it was almost supernatural, as though you were a siren singing a painfully melodic tune. You seemed content to converse with him, despite the situation, and obvious tension circling the atmosphere. It swirled like smoke, rising to form invisible stalactites on the ceiling. They dripped with unease. The hero had heard stories about a certain psychotic girl, but she was smaller than you, with a constant, ear-to-ear grin present on her face.
Hawks narrowed his eyes. "Well, sorry dove, but it looks like I've gotta fly."
You sighed. "You'll need to find the windows first. Oh, and there aren't any doors, either."
"Then how did you get in?" He chuckled.
"My quirk." Your response was short and concise, giving you ample time to set up whatever you had planned.
He could tell something was happening, because he heard the shuffling of feet and the click of heels on stone. As much as his feet appeared to want to remain rooted to the spot, he refused to allow them that privilege. He was not safe here. Definitely not. He wasn't sure how much he could stall if you decided to start speaking again, and he didn't know what you were doing. His guard was high. Like - ice wall around the Antarctic high. That was just a ridiculous theory, of course, but the point was there. He was alert, and nothing would get past him.
...Except, something did.
An otherworldly force collided with his stomach, making him double over and stumble backwards. He didn't feel flesh, however, or even clothing, so you couldn't have hit him. Also, it was impossible for your quirk to have anything to do with super-strength, because you had mentioned either altering the room, or getting in without the need for visible points of entry. His back hit the wall once more, and immediately, he felt metal slithering around his wrists, squeezing him tightly like a cobra smothering its prey. He wondered if you were akin to a cobra, since you seemed to love causing him discomfort. Before he really had a chance to think, a calloused hand gripped his chin. It was a forceful hold, and when his eyes snapped open, hungry (e/c) ones stared back. He tugged at the new chains, even tried to send some feathers like last time, but they wouldn't comply. His brows furrowed in concentration, as he attempted to regain control of his feathers. You looked on in amusement.
"What is your quirk, anyway?" He asked, distractedly.
"That's not something you need to know." You replied.
Then, he enquired, "By the way, where am I? And where's Endeavor? Is he near here?"
"The beast was captured hours ago. I was sent to ensure you were awake."
He nodded. "Cool, cool. Uh...I bet it feels pretty awesome to have the top two-ranked pros in the palm of your hand, huh?"
"Just give up." You whispered, leaning into his shorter figure.
Needless to say, he wasn't going to give up. Although, you had a specific scenario you had been saving just for this guy. He was truly lucky - you were willing to be merciful with him. Well, if he was able to satisfy you. The first round of restraints was a test, to see what he would do. However, he was certainly not escaping these bonds. They were crafted from the strongest metal, a pinch of fairy dust, and more sarcasm than there was water on the Earth (okay, so maybe not, but to be honest, you weren't completely sure what they were made of).
The handsome bird still seemed intent on wriggling out of his shackles. He wasn't paying you any attention what-so-ever. That was a dangerous move, especially for someone you had your eye on. His brilliant speech during the televised ranking ceremony inspired you to take matters into your own hands. After the incident with High End (Dabi was an idiot - he could have killed your toy), you decided to join the League of Villains, and you followed Hawks almost everywhere he went. You became so invested in his personal life, and you knew things nobody else did. That made you very unpredictable and dangerous - one wrong move from the heroes, and their top two would be dead, slain by cold steel, with their blood pooling at your feet. You would do it right in front of the cameras if you so desired.
For now though, you thought you might as well have a little fun with the situation. It wasn't like he would be going anywhere, so he was free game. Smirking, you stepped closer, pressing your hands against his tan coat. His head snapped towards you, and the words rolled off his tongue easily.
"You're eager, aren't you? Y'know, I'd really appreciate it if you let me out of these." He motioned to the chains. "They're kinda uncomfortable, actually. Not that I don't love being tied up - it's really kinky - but I've got places to be, people to save. The usual."
You trailed down to the waistband of his trousers. "Save me, then?"
An innocent look adorned your face, as your fingers delved into his pants and skimmed the leaking tip of his half-erect member. His breathing grew more laboured, and his eyes fluttered closed, then open, as he fought to steady himself. You blinked cutely, bit your lip, and glanced up at him. The visor covering his eyes was slipping, edging ever so slowly down his nose. You palmed his length through those striking 'Flame Hero: Endeavor' boxers he seemed to adore. His trousers were hanging at his ankles now, giving you a delicious view of his lower half. He sucked in all the moans and shaky breaths threatening to spill out. He really didn't want you to know how much he was enjoying this. That would likely open up a whole other can of worms, that he was not in the least bit prepared for.
You took advantage of him concentrating on what escaped his lips, to reach all the way into his boxers, past his forming erection. You circled a single digit around his hole, feeling the skin prickle. You giggled, then prodded it against his soft flesh, trying to be patient as you waited for it to be fully sheathed. When that happened, you poked it around, curling it and brushing against his walls. You knew the kind of state he would be in - torn between the phenomenal pleasure and the agonising pain. You guessed nothing had ever been inserted into him before.
Adding a second finger, you made sure to twist and scissor them. You were attempting to force some sounds out of him, because so far, he had mastered the art of staying so incredibly silent, that you couldn't be sure how much you were actually affecting him.
"Come on, sing for me ~" You cooed, pressing a third and final digit into his gaping hole.
He grunted, but refused to allow any other noises out. You growled, pulling all of your fingers out simultaneously, and leaving Hawks breathing heavily through his nose. However, you didn't miss the dissatisfied whine that slipped past his lips. He seemed to notice, and instantly turned scarlet. Licking your lips, you moved backwards slightly, sat down in front of him, and tugged your pants off. You spread your legs, reaching into your panties. You inserted three fingers at once, causing a shudder across your whole body, and a moan that would have put Sherlock's ringtone to shame. A bead of sweat rolled down your forehead. You fiddled with your top, adjusting it so that one of your breasts was now on display. You grabbed it, kneading it with your hand. Throughout all of this, your captive's gaze was focused. He found himself unable to look away, despite the knowledge that, just to be a decent human, he really should. This was so wrong, on so many levels, and it was made worse by the throbbing, full-sized erection protruding from his Endeavor boxers.
"Birdy..." You groaned, showing him your soaking panties. "I realllly need you...ah! N-Now..."
He swallowed the lump of nerves piling in his throat. His stomach was on fire, and it wasn't because of some inbuilt power in his boxers, although they had been custom made (he was such a fanboy), and they had the Flame Hero (and current number one!) plastered on them. He wasn't grinning, obviously (he was a grouch), but Hawks was feeling the same kind of heat - when that guy got fired up, and was destroying the enemy (sometimes literally, to the distress of the other pros), he was grinning. It could be quite frightening.
Oh yeah - Endeavor.
"Where...is Endeavor?" He asked, cock straining against his stomach.
You laughed. "Is that really...nngh...what you want to...know?"
He panted. "Where - Where is he?"
"Such a...ah...loyal bird." You purred, tilting your head to the side.
That compliment went straight to his dick, and he hated the way it twitched in anticipation, as though it wanted to be inside you already. You were eyeing it, and spotted that slight movement; it flinched like a scared cat, or a sexually-constipated human. Removing your fingers with a satisfying pop, you tugged off all other offending garments, including your panties. You were now completely exposed to the Winged Hero. His eyes roamed your figure with an unnatural amount of lust. He cursed himself for giving into temptation.
"Will you take me?" You questioned; sin was laced in your voice, and it cascaded off your tongue.
He gulped, ignoring his guilty conscience. "Yeah."
You smiled, and it nearly made him melt - his heart was beating fifty miles an hour, and his legs felt like jelly. He wanted to melt into a puddle and remain on the floor for evermore. You glided towards him (tunnel vision, clearly), straightening up to release his hands from their restraints. His visor lay cracked and abandoned on the floor. He flicked the buttons on his coat, opening it, then tossing it aside. He made short work of his shirt and headphones. He wouldn't allow for any distractions. He grabbed a gentle fistful of your (h/c) locks, turning you around. A hand grazed your rear, but before you could think, his giant member slammed into you. Your back arched; he was in so deep, slapping your walls mercilessly. He set a rigorous pace, almost animalistic, as he pulled out all the way to the tip, then rammed back into you. His grip on your hips tightened with every thrust.
"Nngh..." He groaned.
In a matter of seconds, he had you flush against the hard ground, moaning his name and mewling loudly.
"Hawks...Hawks..." You were chanting like your life depended on it.
It encouraged him, and eventually, he hit the bundle of nerves that had you arching your back as much as humanly possible, screaming and balling your hands into fists. Your knuckles soon became a hot white, as he bumped the pleasure up to the extreme. He kept one hand in your hair, turning your head so that your beautiful sounds weren't muffled by the floor. You became incredibly tight, and he knew you were close. He thrust in a few more times, allowing you to cum. He rode out your orgasm, getting himself ready for release.
"Do you want my chicks?" He asked, his brazen demeanour returning.
A sliver of drool ran down your chin. "Ah...fufu...yes. Y-Yes."
"Here you go then."
He came, shooting his seed straight into you, letting the remnants of the sticky substance trickle down your legs. You were panting heavily, leaning on your elbows and trying to collect your thoughts. He watched your body slacken and collide with the ground. He sat back, putting a hand on his forehead to check his temperature. He looked around, but saw no escape route. He would just have to wait until you awoke, joints stiff and semen nestled in your womb. For now, he wrapped his arms and wings around your form, offering protection from bad dreams.
[Word Count: 2395]